AN #1: Slamming a little chappie out tonight because I feel so inclined. ;p I'm trying to slowly age the Caryl, so if I'm doing it wrong/weird/too slow/too fast please, for all that is holy, don't let me embarrass myself! I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not write for or own AMC or The Walking Dead
OoO
Carol took the first watch that night.
He tried to take it, but Beth very rudely pointed out that he had slept maybe fifteen minutes in the past two days, and so he was shot down.
He sent her as pointed a look as he could bear to give the battered girl, and she answered with a roll of her baby blues and a glare.
"I'm not an idiot. I knew you were faking."
The lines on her forehead made him feel sorry for her more than it aggravated him.
Carol gave him a look from her place at the fire, stared him down at that. She gave him a look he was well-versed in. He had seen it more times in the past year and a half than he could count; anytime he had slipped the better half of his portion on Lori's plate, whenever he took a double watch, the times he had sacrificed a coveted chocolate bar to a sullen Carl.
He could hear her mantra echoing in his memories:
You need to take better care of yourself. You're important to us, to me.
But it still sent a wave of nausea in his gut, the way she looked at him. The way she saw straight through him, always had.
And it went both ways, it wasn't that he found it creepy the way she knew him. They were close, or as close as he could be with someone. He knew her, too.
No, it was that there was someone he couldn't hide from. He had grown up keeping every emotion in check, never letting anyone see anything but anger and insolence. It was all he was, what he became. Angry. Violent.
Mean.
It was her that had started to draw him towards the light, take him back. She saw him better than he saw himself, and she helped him discover the virtues his mother had given him, that he had suppressed in his need to survive.
He was terrified of what she saw that he hadn't found yet.
He knew he could be selfless now, ocassionally. She told him so. She told him he was honorable, had a sense of duty.
But there were other things. Other things she would figure out.
How he had almost given up that first night. How he had lost himself in his grief momentarily.
How he had actually considered killing Beth.
How he was a coward. How he had run and hid from his father all those years, how he had tasted the dust bunnies beneath his bed while his mother and Merle tasted blood. He had no courage. He had let them be beaten within an inch of their lives, and all he had done to help them was pray.
He had prayed and prayed for God to save his mother, his brother, him.
And God had taken his mother in return. And his brother, now. And probably his father.
Maybe, in some way, God had answered his prayers.
But there were other things. Other things he couldn't think of at this moment, but that he was sure were there, lurking beneath the surface, ready to strangle the good in her, choke it and kill it and suck all the life out until she was just a husk again, a shadow of a woman who was terrified to speak.
It wasn't okay. It didn't feel right, her knowing him. He couldn't let his demons, his evil, taint her.
It wasn't okay.
oOo
The girls insisted on sleeping on either side of her. Beth wanted to have Judith beside her, too, but Carol put her foot down there. She said that Judith would keep her up, and she needed to sleep.
And since Carol had first watch, and Tyreese was barely adequate, it was him who bounced her and rocked her until she went to sleep.
All six of them squeezed onto that unzipped sleeping bag, Daryl and Mika on the edges, with Beth, Lizzie, Tyreese and Judith in-between.
Carol situated everyone before she took her place on the other side of the little fire. He didn't miss the way she switched Mika and Lizzie so that Lizzie was in-between two people. She wanted to make sure that it was as difficult as possible for her to get up unknown to the others.
And the way she put Tyreese between Judith and her, so that there was an obstacle.
Every action of Carol's was deliberate, thought out, strong.
He settled uncomfortably close to the edge, the baby between him and Tyreese. He had wrapped her back up in his vest as night had fallen and Carol informed him that there were no blankets for her.
Which meant he was freezing his butt off.
The little fire was doing little against the night breeze.
He didn't really want to sleep, anyway.
His body ached, his eyes felt dry and sucked of all life. He knew he needed to sleep. But he wasn't going to. He wasn't.
He wasn't going to think of how he had let Beth be deprived of the father to her baby. The grandfather to her baby. He wasn't going to dwell on how she shuddered, even in her sleep, or how her mouth let out little mewls of fear and sorrow and pain from her dreams.
Just a little girl. Just a girl.
He wouldn't think about how Carol's ribs were prominent, even under her jacket, how her spine poked through her skin when she bent. He would not allow himself to look at Judith's dirty face and think of how she wouldn't have a proper bath with her duckie and that sweet smelling baby soap in who knows how long.
He wouldn't think about it. And he sure as he'll wouldn't dream about it.
But Carol was watching him. He knew she was. He could feel those eyes boring holes into the back of his stained button-up. He knew he had to relax his muscles to trick her, start breathing easier. Stop jumping at every crackle from the fire and actually settle down.
Easier said than done.
He eventually lulled himself into a twilight sleep, not really under but not really awake, either. It was dreamless, but he was still aware of Beth's soft sounds, the snaps of wood in the fire, Judith's quick baby breathing.
It wasn't until Tyreese got up to relieve Carol that he roused himself fully.
He watched her as she settled down in his place, only to lean up on one elbow and reach forward to the little girl.
He felt himself reach towards her, aggravation mounting in his gut as Judith began to protest, not fully awake yet, but soon to be. Carol ignored his hand and hushed the girl softly as she flipped her over on her back and covered her again with the vest.
Judith quieted quickly, her hand making its way into her mouth above the leather, her eyebrows drawn in unhappily in sleep.
Carol leaned back down and ran a single finger over her forehead, tracing the shiny auburn bangs down to her nose, sighing slowly.
"She's not a year old yet," she whispered softly, her eyes fluttering closed for a couple seconds, then opening lazily to look at him.
He felt his heart rate increase slowly, a rising drumbeat, as she stared him in the eyes, switching between them, flicking at his lips.
He swallowed. Felt his mouth go dry.
Carol's gaze shifted back to the baby quickly, as if she could sense his slight fear and unease. "If it's ever just you, don't let her sleep on her belly," she said quickly, all business. "Don't smoke around her, either. They're SIDS risk factors."
He shook his head at her, confused. Him alone with Judith? Why would he ever be alone with Judith?
Well. Why would he have ever been alone with Beth?
He didn't argue her down, but sent a questioning, tired look her way. When she didn't answer at first, he sighed. Closed his eyes for a couple seconds, relishing the feeling of rest, and then opened them again to look at her.
She sighed. "Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. She could just die in her sleep, and there would be nothing you could do about it."
He felt a cold black hole open in his stomach, swallowing all warmth and what little security he had felt a second ago. He found himself immediately counting Judith's breaths to himself, watching for her little chest to rise and fall in a rhythm.
"You forget," he mumbled. "That there're any...any other dangers." She offered a small half-smile and glanced back up at him.
He lowered his head onto his folded arms and breathed deep, images of undead babies flying circles in his thoughts. He blinked several times, tried to evict the little horrors from their nest in the back of his mind.
He closed his eyes and turned his face to the ground, tried to keep his breathing under control.
He felt a soft hand on his back and he immediately flinched at the contact, the sensation of someone touching him kindly there alien and terrifying.
She didn't move though, kept rubbing small circles along his spine and humming lightly. He felt ashamed at flinching. It felt...different, but almost comforting to have her touch him.
His shirt was thin, though. He knew she could feel the ropy scars beneath it. He felt her trace them as her fingers followed their pattern, curling back into circles at the last second.
He felt himself relax. It was okay. She had seen them before. It was okay.
It was okay. This was okay.
OoO
AN #2: Thanks so much! Let me know how you liked it.
