Author's Note: Thank you for the amazing reviews. I read every single one.
TWDTWDTWD
Daryl was a hard teacher. She should've guessed it by her pre-dawn wake up call but that was nothing compared to this. First, he showed her how to carry the bow, across her chest, over the strap of the quiver, chastising her for holding it where the string and the wood of the bow met. There was no small talk as he lead her round the back of the house, just taking her off the edge of the property where the trees weren't so close together.
"We'll start with a basic non-moving target, get you used to using it. He had a can of spray paint with him, drawing two circles, one inside the other. She took the bow off and reached over her left shoulder to pull and arrow from the quiver. He slapped her hand away.
"Not yet." He told her. Apparantly there was a lot to learn about using a bow and arrow before you could actually use the bow and arrow. He spent over half an hour explaining to her the ins and outs of the bow, telling her what every part of it was called and what it did. She thought that this was perhaps the most he had ever spoken to her, ever. He spoke with passion and certainty. It made her confident that there was nobody better than him to teach her.
Eventually, he let her position to shoot it, repositioning her like a doll until she was stood how he wanted.
"Stop bein' so stiff. You're gonna hurt yourself after a coupla arrows." Carol took a deep breath and tried to force herself to be calm. It was hard though, when he was breathing down her neck, watching the smallest of moves that she made.
Her first three arrows were a bust. They didn't even hit the tree and she was ashamed to even be standing there. She couldn't do this. He must have known she couldn't do this. Is this what he wanted? To prove to her that she was no good handling a weapon?
Daryl didn't flinch when she missed her target. He wasn't even looking at the target. He was watching her and how she was held the bow, how she held herself when she used it. He wanted to know if his instinct was right and that this would be the perfect weapon for her. Carol was graceful, he knew that. She held herself delicately, like a ballet dancer and moved quietly, the best qualities to have for hunting and tracking. She listened. She heard everything. She wasn't like the other women, gossiping and hollering.
She sighed when her fourth arrow hit the tree, several inches shy of the red target. She moved forward to pull it out and he reached out a hand to stop her.
"Leave it til you run out." He told her, gesturing for her to continue. "Again."
She lost count of the amount of arrows shot that morning. She'd gone back to collect them several times and with every one she shot, her aim was getting better. The last two dozen all shot within the outer circle, creeping closer to the bullseye. Still, Daryl didn't say anything. He stood just an arms length away, his own bow on his back, occassionally nudging her elbow or foot, silently telling her to reposition herself.
Eventually, she heard her name being called from the house, Lori, she thought it was. Without saying anymore, they pulled off the remaining arrows from the tree, loading them back into the quiver, before heading back to the house.
Lori was pacing the porch when they returned, Rick and Glenn loading the van for another run. Without giving her a chance to say thank you for the morning, Daryl stalked off into the house, getting his things together for the run into Newtown. Lori shot her a look as she came up the porch, spotting the bow and arrows over her shoulder.
"Where were you?" She asked. "You've been gone for hours!"
"Sorry, I forgot the time." She walked to the kitchen, suddenly realising how thirsty she was, Daryl walked out as she walked in, his backpack in one hand. He nodded as he brushed past her and she heard the ignition of the van a few moments later. Lori stood and watched her from across the room as she drunk a bottle of water without stopping.
"What were you doing out there? Where did you get that?" She gestured to the bow still on her back.
"Daryl got it. From the weapons place. We were only out on the edge of the trees. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you."
Lori went to say something else, but became distracted when she spotted Carol's arm, her cardigan sleeves rolled up past the elbow. "Shoot Carol, what happened to you? Did you fall?" Lori reached out for her wrist and for the first time Carol noticed that she had skinned her forearm. It was red raw, parts of it oozing blood and the sight of it made her feel queasy. It started to sting and she hissed as Lori ran her fingers over it. She brought her own hand up to touch it and noticed her fingers. The backs of them were also red, blisters were on the verge of forming.
"It's because I'm not used to it." She fumbled under the sink where they kept some of their most basic first aid supplies. She tore open the alcohol wipe with her teeth and wiped the shallow cuts with it, gritting her teeth, feeling the sting that meant that it was working to clean them.
"You're trying to use that thing?" Lori looked incredulous, but she rushed to help Carol apply the bandage.
"Daryl's teaching me. I'm not any good yet, we only started this morning."
"But, why?" Lori, applied a gauze to the worst of her arm, before starting to wrap her arm from wrist to elbow with a crepe bandage.
"Because it's time I learned. I mean, everyone needs to know how to defend themselves right? It comes to something when your boy knows how to defend us better than I do." She flexed her fingers, before she applied padded bandaids to each one that was suffering.
"Why a bow? Why not a gun or a knife? Surely they'd be easier on you?"
"I don't know. Ask Daryl. I didn't ask for one specifically. It makes sense though, can't be wasting bullets on me, not now we're struggling with what we have. Plus, it doesn't make any noise. It'll get better. Look at Daryl, his hands are fine now."
"He was using his bow long before the Walkers came, Carol." Lori threw the empty packets into the trash bag and slid the first aid kit back under the kitchen sink. "You don't have anything to prove here, you know that right? You work just as hard as everyone else."
"It isn't that." Carol said, although she wasn't being entirely honest with her answer. "I want to do this. The world isn't going to change. It's not going to get miraculously better in our lifetime Lori. I know we want it too...but all we can do is change and grow with it. To make our lives better. So this is me, making our lives better. Trying to anyway."
Lori nodded and Carol realised belatedly that this was probably not what the expectant mother wanted to hear.
"I know, when we left the farm...you were angry with Rick. I know you wanted to go. Are you preparing to leave us?" Lori spoke the last sentence hesitantly, as if she didn't want to hear the answer.
"No. I promise. I was angry, that's all. I didn't mean it. He was just dealing with it the only way he could. I'm staying here Lori, honestly." She nodded to her and headed up the stairs to put her bow and arrows away.
As she took the stairs two at a time, she believed those last words. She was going to stay with the group. She wanted to stay. If Daryl trusted Rick, so would she.
TWDTWDTWD
Daryl was ready to punch Glenn if he didn't shut up anytime soon. The kid couldn't stop yapping. Silence made him nervous and he was worse than usual. Sure, he was an alright kid, even if Daryl would never admit it. Glenn was hopped up with the anticipation of the scavenge. Having lived on Hershel's farm meant that foraging was not such a necessity and the boy was itching to get back to it.
The rule of the game was to do as much as they could until 4pm or until the van was full. They were edging into the town shop by shop, home by home. Walkers still roamed the place, although they tended to be scattered, rather than the large numbers they were used to.
Daryl felt alot of the crap they were getting was unnecessary. Seriously, when every day it was a mission to feed the group, was a kitchen table really the answer? Lori's list consisted of baby crap and clothes for her growing stomach but Daryl would be damned before he helped that bitch with her spawn. He was leaving that to Rick and Glenn.
"So, like, maybe we should go further into town today, if there's time. There might be another gun shop." He bobbed up and down in his seat in the middle and Daryl took his hand off his gun to elbow him in the chest.
"Cool it, man. We stick to the plan." He told him, firmly. Rick's head was in the clouds today and he wasn't about to let this scavenge run astray.
Carol's list was burning a hole in his pocket. He didn't even need to take it out, he had memorised the it the day before. Shampoo and girl's crap, boots, a hat and other clothes were the only things on her list that could be classed as personal items. Everything else were general items, things they all needed. Medical supplies, cleaning items, blankets and towels. He was glad she was practical, unlike Maggie and Beth who had put fucking face cream and chocolate on their lists, like they were going to fucking Walmart with a shopping cart.
But Rick on insisted in taking it if they could find it. Keeping everyone's spirits up was important apparantly. Daryl didn't give a shit about anyone's spirits. He just cared that there was enough food on the table that they didn't have yet and that Walkers didn't come rip them to shreds in their sleep.
The first store was a clothing boutique. It was the small designer kind, women's mannequins still stood dusty in the window, wearing last Spring's fashions. Daryl took out two Walkers that approached them as Glenn busted the door's lock. He knew straight away that the things he and Carol would want would not be in this store. He stood outside the door, letting Rick take the lead in, whilst Glenn got the bags out to fill. They continued in this fashion for another clothing store, this one for children, Rick picked out things for Carl, who even Daryl had noticed had grown substantially in the last few weeks. They found plenty in a small pharmacy. Daryl took the lead in this one, knowing more about prescription medication than the rest of them. Rick watched the door whilst Glenn scoured the aisles, first for the women's personal things, then Daryl suspected, for the fucking face cream Maggie wanted. Boy was going soft, he noted.
They were about to head back for the day, when he spotted the window of a camping store. After taking some tables from a cafe, as well as raiding the kitchen for the industrial sized tins and jars, he asked the men to hold up for this shop and they agreed, despite the clock rapidly approaching 4 pm.
Rick used his knife on a Walker before they crossed the street, it used to be an old lady, some of the setting rollers still in her matted hair. As soon as they got in, he headed straight for the women's section, finding the boots. He eventually found a size 7, a black lace up pair that looked like army surplus, and stuffed them in the backpack. Amongst the army surplus clothing, he spotted a warmer jacket for himself and picked up a few more for whoever wanted them. He found one for Carol too, a dark brown leather coat, covered in pockets and zips. It would do. He was pleased to have got the most important stuff so fast. The rest would have to wait for another day.
He chose to drive back to the house, speeding to make up the time they lost. No-one liked being out of the house after dark. They didn't set up a guard. There wasn't a good watch point anyway. Most of the windows on the lower floor had been boarded up, every door locked and barricaded at night.
As if they had been watching it from the door, most of the group came tumbling out as the van pulled up the porch.
"You're late!" Maggie gave Glenn a hug, before pulling away to help unload the van. There were three tables to carry in, that when pushed together, would give them enough room to all sit down to eat.
Carol was one of the last to come out and straight away Daryl noticed the bandaged arm and fingers. He'd expected this to happen, it did when you first started using a bow and soft skin had yet to harden, like his. He handed her one of the chairs from the cafe.
"You got it?" She nodded her response. "I think Glenn picked up Neosporin. Should help with that." He nodded towards her arm, he noticed her moving it stiffly, the aching had already kicked in. He wondered if she would be prepared for round two in the morning.
TWDTWDTWD
He woke up as the sun rose, a lie in for him because he knew it wouldn't be his turn to head into town that day. He was going to use the time wisely, after more practise with Carol, he was going to go hunting, something he hadn't done much of in this forest and see what game was available for the taking.
He picked up the coat and boots for her and crept up to her room again but was surprised to find it empty, the bed neatly made, her nightdress folded on her pillow. Going back down the stairs to the kitchen he found her drinking a cup of coffee at the table, flicking through an old magazine. She looked up when he came into the room and he spotted her bow resting against the table leg.
"Morning." She greeted before draining the last of her coffee.
He nodded and wordlessly handed over the coat and boots. "This is great. Thank you Daryl." She toed off her sneakers quickly and slid the boots on, lacing them up deftly. She slid the jacket on, after pulling the tags off, zipping and belting it to try it for size. It fell at mid-thigh, roomy enough to put on a thick sweater underneath if she had to. "It's a perfect fit. I'm grateful."
"S'alright. You ready?" He didn't wait for an answer before making for the door, heading into the chilly sun.
She pulled the zip up a little higher before slinging on her quiver and bow. She was ready.