Author's Note: Thank you for your kind words. Praxid asked me what bow Carol uses and I picture her with a recurve bow. :) I can see this growing to around the 13/14 chapter mark, possibly a little more, the last three chapters were originally condensed into 1.5 but I elaborated a bit. This chapter was meant to be like, three paragraphs long but I got a leeeeeetle bit crazy.
TWDTWDTWD
He stayed with her that first night. Beth brought dinner up for them both, a tray laden with the spoils of their trip and it made him angry to look at it. He wanted to throw the tray down the stairs. Tinned pudding was not worth her getting stabbed in the leg. Still, he settled for clenching his fists against his sides when the young girl settled the tray at the end of the bed with a smile.
"Is that rosemary I can smell?" Carol asked, as she pushed herself up to a sitting position, Beth leant over to prop the pillows behind her.
"Yeah, Lori put it in the rabbit." Beth answered her. "And I got you these." She reached into the pockets of her hooded sweater and fished out two cans of soda, setting them on the bedside table.
"Thank you Beth." She said to the girl, who nodded and left as quickly as she came, most likely eager to get to her own meal. Carol leaned forward to grab the tray and drag it closer, but Daryl got there first, pulling his own plate off the tray before sliding it into her lap. He leant over her to reach for the soda cans, popping the tab on hers and setting it onto the tray.
"Thank you. But my arms do work, you know." Carol joked, picking up her fork.
"You need to rest. Everythin' heals quicker that way." He told her, propping his plate on his knee to eat his own meal.
She just smiled at her plate and continued digging her way through the instant mashed potato, occassionally sipping soda. They ate in silence, as was their way most of the time, Daryl just shot her a glance every now and then, which Carol pretended not to notice. As soon as she put her spoon down after her last mouthful of dessert, he cleared the tray from her, getting up to take it downstairs.
"I'll be back in a minute." He told her, disappearing down the stairs.
As soon as she heard his footsteps tail off, she threw the covers back, shimmying herself to the edge of the bed. She'd been waiting for the opportunity for a couple of hours now, wanting to use the bathroom but not wanting to cause a fuss. Daryl surely would call one of the other women to help her and she couldn't bear such a fuss over her needing to pee. Its was mortifying enough earlier that day, all of them crowding round the dining table, witnessing her gasping and sobbing.
She clutched the bed post tightly as she lifted herself off the edge of the bed, trying to push her weight onto her good leg. She took a tentative step forward and caught herself just before she stumbled head first into the dresser. She stopped herself from crying out, biting her lip and braced the thigh with the palm of her hand. Using the boxes surrounding her walls, as well as the other furniture, she managed to make it to the door, finding it easier to use the leg if she touched the ground only with the ball of her heel.
She reached the top of the stairs and fumbled for the banisters, getting a good grip on them, using her arms to hold her weight as she swung herself slowly down the steps, hissing everytime she made contact with the next one. Her whole leg seemed to be throbbing, although Hershel told her that would be normal for the first few days. She'd only made it down four of the fifteen steps when she heard Daryl returning. She cursed inwardly for the tongue-lashing that was sure to come.
He had a grimace on his face the moment he turned the corner, pounding up the steps to meet her.
"Where the fuck do you think you're goin'? He growled at her. He didn't even wait for an answer before he scooped her up, ready to take her back to her room.
"Put me down, Daryl! I need to use the bathroom!" She protested, thumping him none too gently on the shoulder. He stopped in his tracks and drew her closer to him to turn on the narrow staircase without bumping her head or feet.
"You should have fuckin' said. I woulda brought you down an' got Lori to help." He took the stairs slowly, kicking the bathroom door open with his foot. "I'll go get Lori." He muttered, making to set her down on the chair in the corner of the room.
"No, don't. Please." She fisted the shoulder of his shirt in her hand. "I got halfway down the stairs. I can have three minutes of privacy to use the bathroom. Please, Daryl."
He set her down on the chair gently, gazing at her in assessment. "Three minutes." He told her, backing to the door. "I'm waitin' outside. Don't lock the damned door." Without waiting for her to respond, he shut it lightly.
He leant against the wall as he waited for her, huffing to himself folding and unfolding his arms. There she went again, pissing him off as usual. The woman didn't know when to just listen to him. She spent her whole life listening to some lazy bastard, doing everything he asked from her, but for him she wouldn't listen to a damned word he said. It made him beyond angry that she was struggling to do this when she didn't have to.
Carol flushed the toilet and hobbled to the sink slowly, resting against the edge of the bathtub to wash her hands and brush her teeth. She relished the few minutes of being able to do something for herself. It had been only a few short hours since she'd started being "babysat" but it was already getting tiresome.
Daryl would be even more unbearably protective. She knew that when she walking properly again, she would have an even bigger fight on her hands about getting out of their self-styled compound. She wondered if he even noticed the hypocrisy in his behaviour of late. He'd taken her out, taught her how to defend herself so that she could be self-sufficient. So she could contribute to the group in more essential ways. Now, he was completely betraying that ideal, wanting her to be the group's little surburban housewife once more. Not that she dismissed the role so easily, because she still enjoyed the cooking and the cleaning. It brought a little bit of civility in times where it was easy to be savage. But it was restricting and Carol refused to be to locked away in a little bubble ever again. She lived a lifetime in Ed's shadow and now she was enjoying her freedom.
Not that she was ever comparing Daryl to Ed, of course. Despite what less-informed members of the group might have thought, they were poles apart in terms of personality. Daryl was not selfish, in spite of his rough-around-the-edges demeanour. He provided for the group daily despite the risk to his own life. He went in to town for things he didn't even feel they needed because someone asked. Not like Ed, who sat on his ass all day watching others do the dirty work.
Daryl didn't stop her doing anything that she took pleasure in. He only ever tried to protect her, cushion her from all the bad things in the world. As frustrating as it was, she knew he wasn't doing it to hurt her or to gain something from it. It took her a little time to switch on to what he was trying to do and it surprised her a little. He cared about her. He cared about the group, as much as he tried to dismiss any such notion, but he particularly cared about her. The thought made her smile as she dried her hands and reached out for the pot of moisturiser on the bathroom shelf. She smoothed the cream liberally over face, her skin had gone tight after all the tears that had fallen. She was screwing on the lid when there was a soft knock on the door and Daryl entered without waiting for a response.
"I didn't keel over and die." She told him, reaching out to put the cream back.
"Was longer'n three minutes." Was all he said, reaching over to pick her up.
She sighed but didn't say anything. Resistance was futile. She raised her arms, feeling like a small child and let him scoop her up to return her to her room.
He set her down on the bed, drawing the covers back up and tossing the book she had sitting on the dresser next to her on the bed.
"I'm gonna get candles. Don't even think 'bout movin' again." Her warned her, pointing his finger at her.
She mock saluted him and he smirked. She picked up the book when he left, flicking to find her last read page. He returned less than ten minutes later, candles in one hand, a bottle of water tucked under his arm and his duvet bundled up under the other.
"Hershel wants someone to stay up with you tonight." He told her, by way of explanation, tossing the duvet on the floor alongside her bed, before pulling a lighter from his pocket and setting the candles down on her bedside cabinet to light up the room that was dimming quickly.
"You don't have to, if you don't want to." She told him, watching him spread the duvet out.
"I know." He fished out a little orange bottle from his pocket and plucked two pills from the vial, handing them to her before unscrewing the bottle of water and passing that over aswell. "It'll help you sleep. Pain always gets worse when ya try to get to sleep."
Carol tipped her head back to swallow the white capsules, taking a swig of water. "They won't knock me out, will they?" She asked fearfully, only realising to ask after they slid down her throat.
He shook his head. "They ain't sleepin' tablets. Just painkillers, make ya bit drowsy though."
"Let's hope we don't get attacked by Walkers tonight then." She said conversationally.
"We won't." He kicked his boots off and pulled a worn paperback from his back pocket, before sitting down on the floor, parallel to her.
"Don't sleep down there." She leant over the bed, to skim her hand over his shoulder and was pleased when he didn't freeze at her touch.
"I slept on worse places than a floor before, Carol." He told her, leaning back on his elbows.
"You don't have to, there's plenty of room up here." She instantly regretted how the words came out of her mouth. It sounded like she was propositioning him. Not that she wouldn't want to be like that with him - she cut herself from that train of thought quickly before he saw her blush. She knew he cared about her, it was definitely different to how he felt with the others. And she cared about him. It had been slow burning, for her, most definitely. She'd conditioned herself not to look at men over the years, it was safer that way. But when she saw the way he looked for her daughter, she knew instantly what kind of man he was and it was attractive.
But they were both screwed up. Ed was her only relationship. Not exactly the best example of how a couple should work. He hardly ever spoke of his past, certainly never mentioned any girlfriends, although he'd told her that he never got married or even close to it. She got the impression that he didn't have much experience in that department either. He never touched any of the others unless it involved a fight. He used to freeze at any attempt at contact from anyone, even her at first. Now he was more relaxed about her proximity to him, only occassionally being startled by her touch.
"I don't wanna hurt your leg." He answered her finally.
"There's plenty of room." She blurted out and she mentally kicked herself the minute the words were out. Talk about sounding desperate, she thought. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but it's more comfortable."
He looked at the bed, then her, gaze travelling down to her leg and back to her face again.
"Fine." He pushed himself off from the floor, walking round to the empty side of the bed as she pulled the rest of the quilt back allowing him to sit beside her.
They read in silence for over an hour, until the sky went completely black and even candlelight wasn't enough to read her book easily. Or maybe it was the drugs kicking in, Carol thought. She turned down the corner of the page and tossed the book on the floor. Daryl followed suit and helped her move the pillows from behind her back so she could lie back.
"You can keep reading. The light won't disturb me." She told him drowsily, thumping her pillow into shape.
"Nah, I'm good." He leant over her to snuff out the candles on her side of the bed before doing the same to ones nearest to his side.
"Thank you for looking after me Daryl." She murmured. She could feel her eyelids getting heavier, but she reached out and touched him, hand brushing his jaw and neck blindly.
He didn't say anything at all at first and Carol thought she had made a massive faux-pas. But just as she made to move her hand, he reached up with his own and stroked her fingers lightly, running his hand up her wrist as she settled her own against his throat.
"Anytime." He replied, his voice thick. He released her forearm and shuffled closer to her, turning on his side to face her, even though he couldn't actually see her at all, draping his arm over her hips as she moved her hand to his hair. She fell asleep before she could even blush at the thought of what she was doing with this man.
She woke up easily, long before dawn. Her first thought was that she felt warm. Then she realised why. Daryl had shifted even closer to her in his sleep, his leg hitched over her one good one, his arms tight underneath her chest, fingers splayed against her ribcage. He'd buried his face on her shoulder, she could feel his hot breath against her neck. She moved her arm from under her pillow to rest over his and he tightened his grip on her in his sleep.
Taking the tablets long before her usual bedtime, combined with half a day's rest the day before, meant she could quite easily get up for the day, if her leg allowed it. Today, she decided, she would sleep in. Her bed, and the man inside it, were far too comfortable.