Jasper

Chapter 4: What is Needed

"The seeker embarks on a journey to find what he wants and discovers, along the way, what he needs."― Wally Lamb, The Hour I First Believed

She watched him walk away, her mind turning like a whirlwind as his words played over and over in her head. "You're wrong," he said softly. "Wherever you are, that's where I belong. I told Rick before I left that it was both of us or neither. You're home to me, Carol. I ain't leaving you." Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought he'd be the one to lay it all on the line. Daryl could be counted on to be a man of his word. If he said it, he meant it and that was that. You're home to me. Those words made her heart stutter-step and leap joyously. She didn't know whether to laugh or weep so she did neither. She turned to the abandoned house instead and studied it as she waited for him to return.

It was sad to have so few good memories of a place she'd lived for fifteen years. The only ones were of hours spent with just Sophia for company. This house was the only home the girl ever knew. So many firsts happened here. First words, first steps, first bike ride, first birthday party, and Sophia's first kiss although Ed would have killed her if he knew. Johnny Chambers was a tow-headed stray from a few streets over. He came by at least once a week to ask if Carol would let Sophia come out and play. She relented and then watched from the back door as the pair took to the yard.

Carol decided to wash the dishes in lieu of her usual chores so she could keep an eye on them. She huffed out a laugh when Johnny, taking his fate in his hands, leaned in to plant a quick dry kiss on Sophia's shocked mouth. Her eyes rounded until they took up most of her face and she darted a quick look toward the house. Carol ducked behind the curtains, her hands covering her mouth to stifle her laughter. She couldn't hear what was said but the big smiles were enough to give them away. It was the first time Carol admitted to herself that her baby girl wasn't a baby anymore. She was growing up all too soon.

She shook her head, pulling herself back to the present and feeling wetness on her cheeks. Her baby didn't get to grow up. There were so many firsts they didn't get, so many regrets she was left with now that Sophia was gone. She breathed Ed's name like a curse and bent to pick up a loose piece of concrete from the pitted sidewalk. Part of her, the part that was born after the world went to hell, wanted to burn the place to the ground and walk away whistling. Her fingers curled around the gravel, fighting the urge to let it fly, to break and tear until there was nothing left of this place and the life she had here. She felt the stone bite, cutting into the palm of her hand. "You're not that woman anymore," she muttered under her breath.

The sound of his returning footsteps pulled her head around. She glanced back to see him with a backpack slung over his shoulder and his crossbow in hand. His blue eyes narrowed as they took her in, taking note of her wan expression and the wetness on her cheeks. "Gonna be dark soon," he observed quietly. "Best be getting under cover." His eyes flicked past her to the house, his lips pressed into a thin white line.

"Not here," she revealed. "I couldn't…that is…I can't…not here." Her fingers tightened involuntarily on the rock and she gasped as she felt a warm wetness seep out. "Shit," she muttered, flexing her hand and shaking off the tiny drops of blood dotting her lifeline. His curse echoed hers as he gently grasped her hand and pulled her closer. "I'm okay," she assured him. "It's alright, Daryl."

"Woman," he bit out. "Don't pull away. Not now." He pulled a rag out of his back pocket and wound it around her hand. "Not here. Fine. Whatever. Where then? We need to get going or we're gonna get caught with our asses hanging out."

She clenched her fist and wiggled her fingers, testing the play in the bandage. "There's an emergency shelter over on West Church Street. It's strong and there's food and water. I'm staying there." She laughed softly at his shocked expression. "I knew about it from before. This is a small town and not a lot went on. When they started evacuating, most folks headed to Atlanta. That's where Ed wanted to go. I figured if I was coming here, the emergency shelter would be my best bet."

The corners of his mouth quirked in to an approving smile as he rolled the gravel between his palms. "Sounds good," he turned on his heel and headed back the way he'd come, pausing to look back at her. "Best to take mine. That old beater of yours would be lucky last another week." When she made no move to follow him, he stopped but didn't turn to face her. "Either I go with you or you come with me. It don't matter to me. I meant what I said, Carol. If you're staying, then so am I."

She didn't answer him; she couldn't get the words past the knot in her throat. Instead, she walked to the Ford, opened the driver's side door and pulled out her own bag. She retraced her steps to the front walk and stood there, staring at the house. It didn't hurt anymore, standing here looking at the ruins of her former life. It was somebody else's slideshow. That Carol was gone and the one left behind had been tempered by fire. She felt his eyes on her, watching and waiting. "You ready?" He asked softly. She nodded and took a last look before veering away.

Her steps faltered as she neared the car, remembering the last time she'd reached for the passenger door only to find it inexplicably locked. The door clicked open and she slid inside, dropping her bag at her feet. "Straight out and turn right," she directed, keeping her eyes fixed out the front window. She bit her lip as the Hyundai slipped into gear and began to move. "It's about 4 miles down the road." She folded her hands in her lap and watched the familiar buildings pass in silence. The feel of his fingers twining with hers startled her, made her heart leap even as her hand tightened around his. "I'm glad you're here," she mouthed quietly.

This time it was him that didn't answer. He just kept driving but he didn't let go of her hand.

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They were about two miles from the shelter when he broke the silence. She felt his eyes on her before he squeezed her hand to get her attention. Until then, she'd been staring out the window, watching as the familiar buildings slipped past. "Do you want to talk about it?" His fingers traced the delicate lines of wrist, feeling her pulse flutter at the contact.

"About what?" She breathed, not trusting herself to meet his gaze. "Why I left without any argument? Why I did it? Why I came here?"

Daryl snorted under his breath. "Not what I meant but we can start with those if you want." She forgot herself enough to turn toward him, her blue eyes wide and wondering. "I know why you did it. Rick told me that. You did it because they were in pain. They deserved better than to die like animals in a cage. You did what you had to." He glanced at the road than back to her. "I already figured out why you came back here so we don't need to go over that again. I get why you left too but I don't agree with it. You wouldn't alone, Carol. You didn't have to take it all on your shoulders."

Her voice broke on a muffled sob as she looked away to swipe furiously at her eyes. "You had enough on your plate. The run to the college was dangerous without you worrying about me. I didn't think Rick would tell me to go. I never thought it would come to this."

"He's a dumbass," Daryl bit out. "So are you if you think that I don't worry. Why do I tell you to stay safe, dammit? It's not that hard to figure out."

Carol shook her head, once again refusing to meet his eyes. "Rick had his reasons and he thought they were good ones, Daryl. Sasha and I took down two of our own. It wasn't in cold blood and I never meant for things to go the way they did."

"If he wanted to do things right, he should have waited for us. He didn't do that. He went back to his old ways and to hell with what anybody else had to say." Daryl made the turn into the Community Center Lot and shut off the engine. He let go of her hand and clutched the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white. "I came here hoping you'd go back with me. They're your family. That's where you belong."

She drew up her leg, turning toward him with her hands clasped in her lap. "I love them," she said baldly. "I love them more than anything but I don't think I can go back. I don't. They won't see me the same and I can't blame them. I'm not the same person I used to be."

"You're still you," he bit out. "You are. Fuck, Carol. We've all done things we wish we hadn't, even Rick. That don't mean we can't come back from them. You didn't kill them in cold blood. You put them out of their misery. You did it to protect the rest of us. That's you. You ain't a fucking murderer." He blew out a breath, staring blindly out the window toward the cinderblock building. "Michonne said you might not come back and I'd have to decide where to go from there." He braced his arms on the steering wheel and dropped his forehead on top of them.

Carol watched him silently her heart going out to him as he visibly struggled to control his emotions. "You don't have to stay," she offered quietly. "I'll be alright, Daryl. You can go back."

The leather creaked in his unyielding grip. "Dammit, I already said I'm staying with you. Quit fucking telling me to go. It ain't happening."

"But why?" She demanded in a panic-stricken tone. "Why would you do that? I have to ask, Daryl. I have to know." His jaw flexed, fingers loosening and tightening on the wheel. His gaze flicked sideways to meet hers than away again. She didn't expect him to reach into his pocket and withdraw a green stone that he dropped without explanation into her hand. "It's jasper," she said in surprise. "What's that for?" She couldn't help but think back to a similar scene and a Cherokee rose tucked into the cracked neck of a Budweiser bottle.

"Mrs. Richards wanted me to keep an eye out," he muttered. "Her husband died right before we went to the Big Spot on that last run. She wanted it to be his marker. I found this on the medicine run to give to her."

Carol swallowed noisily, thinking back to the elderly couple that originally came from Woodbury. They were married for over forty years before the dead started walking. The two of them were always together until he fell ill and passed away in the night. Carol was one of the first to arrive in their cell after the fact and took Mrs. Richards aside as Dr. S attended to her husband. "Why are you giving it to me?" She questioned hesitantly.

He wavered, his mind going back to the conversation he'd had with Mrs. Richards just a short time ago. It had been on his mind more often than not since they'd talked…more so after the run to the college and coming back to find Carol gone. Even now, he could close his eyes and see every minute.

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(One month before events in 30 Days without an Accident)

Daryl ambled across the courtyard with his crossbow hanging loosely over his shoulder. His gaze marked out the others grabbing a bite to eat before they headed out. The Big Spot had the potential to be a gold mine if they could get it clear. He and Sasha had already scouted it and today they were going to rig up some decoys to pull the walkers away from the entrance. If things went according to plan, they would have a wide open path when they went to clean out the store.

He saw Carol glance toward him, her lips quirking up as she gave him a little nod by way of hello. He nodded back, angling his steps in her direction. He knew from experience that she probably had his part already set aside, knowing that he'd want to get away as soon as possible. She saw him coming and reached under the counter to pull out a covered plate. He couldn't help but grin at her, pleased in spite of himself. She never failed to look after him, whether he needed it or not. That was her way and he'd have better luck keeping the sun from coming up than to try to change her.

He was halfway across the courtyard when Mrs. Richards called his name and gestured imperiously toward the empty seat beside her. He flicked an apologetic glance in Carol's direction before heading for the old woman. "Need something, Mrs. Richards?" He asked as he dropped into the chair.

Her faded green eyes narrowed behind her thick glasses as she looked him over. "Need a haircut, boy," she grated. "Can't see a thing with all that hanging in your eyes. You come see me when you get back and I'll cut that back for you. You go wandering around half blind and one of the biters will take a piece out of you and that will be that."

"Yes ma'am," he replied hesitantly. "I'll see about that shortly. Don't want to bother you though." He shifted uncomfortably under her steady gaze. "Did you need something?"

Mrs. Richards' eyes grew glassy as tears beaded in the corners before slipping down her cheeks. "I wanted to ask a favor. I figured you'd be my best bet since you're out there more often than not." He worried his bottom lip, but nodded and gestured for her to continue. "My Hyram died a few days ago. Didn't know if anybody told you?" He shook his head silently, his eyes fixed on her face. "Well enough of that. I hoped that you'd keep your eyes open for some jasper stones. I'd like to use that for his marker." She pulled a stone out of her skirt pocket and showed it to him. The sides were worn smooth from being handled, the hue a bright and brilliant green. "He gave this to me on our first outing, said it matched my eyes. I've kept it with me for forty-six years now. The Lord willing, I'll be with him again soon but until then, I want to put this with him. Will you keep an eye out for me?"

"I'll do what I can," he said slowly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

She patted his shoulder, not letting on when he flinched at the light contact. Turning back to her breakfast, she took a bite and chewed slowly, appearing to be lost in thought. He made as if to rise but stopped when her gaze swung toward him again. "He was my best friend, you know. We were never apart for one day for close to fifty years. He was my best friend, boy, knew me inside and out just like I knew him. You probably think I'm a silly old woman grieving for my dead husband. That's alright if you do but let me tell you, there's something to be said for being friends first. Those parts of you that don't make sense, when you meet the person you're supposed to be with, they make sense. That person makes you better and you make them better, boy. When you find it, you latch on and hold on with everything you've got, you hear me."

He opened his mouth to tell her he'd heard every word but stopped as another light touch on his shoulder pulled his head around. Carol gave him a small smile and set his plate down before nodding to Mrs. Richards and heading back the way she'd come. His gaze followed her before flicking back to the now silent woman studying him thoughtfully. He dropped his eyes back to the plate and started wolfing down his food so that he could get the hell out of there. Gulping down the last few bites, he rose to his feet and looped his crossbow over his shoulder. "I'll keep an eye out for your jasper," he promised gruffly. "Need anything else?"

Mrs. Richards gave him a beautiful smile and patted his arm appreciatively. "No, son, that's all. Keep yourself safe out there. A lot of folks around here would be heart sore if anything happened to you." She looked past him, causing him to follow her gaze, to where Carol was overseeing the last of the breakfast preparations. "She's a good friend, boy. You're lucky to have her."

"We all are," Daryl returned quietly. "She runs this damned place. We'd be lost without her."

Mrs. Richards nodded but her eyes were knowing behind the steel rims of her glasses. "Get along with you," she waved him off. "I've got stuff to do and can't set here jawing with you all day unless you want me to give you that haircut now."

"Maybe next time," he answered as he ambled off. "I'll keep an eye out for your stuff."

"I know you will," she said softly as she watched him catch Carol's eye across the pavilion and nod before taking off. "You're a good man, Daryl Dixon and I'm not the only one who sees it."

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"I want to hold on to something good," he muttered. "Mrs. Richards told me if I found something worth having then I needed to latch on and never let it go. It took me a while to figure it out. I ain't always gonna know the right thing to say or do. I will fuck up. You need to know that." He looked uncertain, a red tint riding high on his cheeks. "Not a lot makes sense in this world anymore but you and me, we do. We make sense."

He saw her eyes close, her fingers squeezing the jasper almost to the point of pain. His heart fell as tears began to roll silently down her face. He started to reach for her only to pull up short when she looked at him with a little smile playing about the edges of her mouth. "Let's go home," she spoke softly, reaching up to swipe ineffectually at the wetness on her cheeks.

"You mean here," he gestured to the building looming in the distance. "If this is what you want, that's what we'll do."

"No," she returned slowly. "I mean home, back to the prison."

Daryl smiled a warm wide smile that lit up his whole face. "You sure," his eyes bore into hers, demanding an answer. "We don't have to, Carol."

"I'm sure," she reached for his hand, twining their fingers together. "We do make sense, you and I. I trust that and I trust you. Everything will be fine. It will. I know it."

He nodded and tugged her in to drop a quick kiss on her smiling mouth. "We'll rest up, get our shit together, and then head for home." She could only shake her head by way of reply, his unexpected actions shocking her into silence. He quirked a brow, huffing out a laugh at her bemused expression. "Come on, woman, I ain't got all day."

She had to laugh, the joy spiraling through her leaving her no other choice. "Right behind you, Pookie," she grinned at him when he shot her a 'are you kidding me' look over his shoulder. "I mean Daryl."

He chuckled lightly and reached again for her hand as they walked toward the emergency shelter. "Sure you did," he groused. "Sure you did."

It ends…..

A/N Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, and favorite this story. It really means a lot to me. I haven't gotten the hang of these characters yet but every time a new notice rolls into my inbox, it boosts my confidence that I'm headed in the right direction. Come see me on Tumblr if you're so inclined. I'm there under whowhatsitwhich as well. Thanks again. It was an honor to write this for you.