Dumb red-neck! Merle reprimanded as Daryl left the RV.
And he knew his brother was right.
What was he about, bringing the woman a flower?
He told her about the Cherokee rose and how it meant hope; he just prayed it wasn't a harbinger.
Carol listened, not being able to answer for tears…
Daryl couldn't take it and tried again to comfort her, telling her Sophia would like the Winnebago now it was clean… but she said nothing…
He wasn't helping, so he left, closing the door behind him and immediately hearing his brother.
She just lost her child, Merle continued, and you're bringin her blooms like a frickin' sophomore.
"Shut-up," he hissed at the voice, turning to walk into the forest.
But he was stopped by Carol calling his name…
He turned back to the door as it opened…
Carol smiled the moment their eyes met; Daryl tried to catch the strings of his soaring heart.
"Thank you," she said, shyly curling her shoulders and inching a little closer to deliver an unexpected and appreciated kiss on his forehead…
Daryl fumbled for words, so said all he could say… "Stop…" There was no need to thank him, he was glad to help her… he would happily search to the ends of the earth if it meant bringing her little girl back.
He hoped she could see that in his eye.
Part of him thought she did; because she gave a honey-sweet smile and closed the RV door.
Daryl lingered a moment in the warmth, as good as the sun had been through the window that morning gone by…
Then the chuckling began again in his head… Honey-sweet? You fucking pussy.
Daryl huffed and turned toward the farm.
A horse. He figured he needed a horse…
()()()
So, it turned out that taking an arrow, nearly drowning, having a walker munch on the leather of your right toe-cap and then being grazed by a bullet to the temple constituted a really, really bad day.
But the hours kept passing and the days rolled on, so Daryl figured it was nothing to think on all that much.
Hershel had cleaned him up some and now he was resting in bed, mulling over where that river would lead him once he was able to get out there searching again.
And no matter the injuries, blood loss or pain… he figured it was curing… like steel; making him stronger.
Now he was stronger, he could head out again and find the little girl who owned the doll he found. He was going to find Sophia… and he had to track the river…
Daryl was that deep in thought he hadn't noticed the door open behind him until Carol came into the room and he whipped up the covers over his back before she noticed him move…
"How are you feeling?" She asked, holding a tray of food for him.
But, too embarrassed that she may have seen his back as he turned, he quickly dismissed, "About as good as I look," and hunkered down in the bed, wishing she would leave before asking…
"I brought you some dinner," she said, and he turned to her voice, seeing the plate of food and only wanting her to go and save his embarrassment… but she added, "You must be starving."
What could he say? He just wanted her to go and not to see him like this… broken and useless to her and her daughter…
But as he shifted in the bed he was aware of Carol leaning down to deliver a kiss to his torn temple…
The feel of her cool lips pressing the bandage made him pause and in that split-second acknowledge the want for that connection; with that knowledge came the fear of being that close to someone…
So as she pulled away from the gesture, all he could mumble was, "Watch it on the stitches."
Smooth, slick… Merle sneered in his head, you finally get an in and-
"I need to tell you something," Carol said.
And he couldn't help but turn to listen…
"You did more today for my little girl than her daddy did for her in his whole life…"
Ha! Merle laughed, she thinks you're a fine man…
Daryl cringed, turned away and covered the duvet over himself, "I didn't do anything Rick or Shane wouldn't have done."
"I know," Carol said quickly. "You're every bit as good as them. Every bit."
The door closed.
What was he doing?
What the hell was he doing?
()()()()
Fuck that asshole, Shane, anyway! What the hell did he know about survival?
Sure, he was a cop. Big, fucking whoop.
Like those pansy-ass bastards ever had to want for anything.
Goddamn badge boy didn't have a clue.
And Carol… fucking Carol… She'd just gone ahead and taken it all away.
All of it.
She'd given up.
Given up on Sophia.
Given up on the chance he might find her.
And what was worse… he'd lost his temper; the one and only thing he'd inherited from his deadbeat father… only part of himself he hated. And when he said hated he meant in the whole sense of loathing and fear.
It made him a different man; a man he had been running from since before he knew there was any light in him.
Was there light in him now?
He had lashed out and called her a dumb bitch… Dumb for giving up on him and Sophia…
But the sound of her footfalls following him halted and he hadn't the patience in that moment to turn back,
Had to have hurt her, a comment like that, Merle observed, given what her white-trash husband used to say…
The comment made Daryl fall to his knees and, before he knew it he was screaming to the sky before collapsing on the ground.
…
Hey…
….
Hey, dummy…
"Not NOW Merle!"
…
Yeah, well… I ain't got forever…
Daryl heard himself growl.
Now you just stop that boy and do one thing for me…
Grudgingly, he agreed, "What?"
Look up.
Daryl groaned.
But a promise was a promise… and when he looked up, his chest began to swell…
Roses.
Cherokee roses filled the bush.
There was hope! God, he had known that!
And before he had registered the movement, he found himself running back to the camp and battering on the door of the RV…
Carol opened the door, brow furrowed in confusion as Daryl held out his hand in offering.
She paused a moment, doubtless considering their meeting earlier but something in her eye hardened… and she reached out to take his hand.
A little too enthusiastically, Daryl pulled her along until she followed him.
When they reached the lakeside he looked to the flowers and announced, "We'll find her."
She smiled; the expression erasing any anger, any pain… anything that seemed to hurt before as she looked from him to the blooms.
So he took the chance to say he was sorry for what he'd said, fully expecting a mouth-full… but she forgave him for the simple fact he wanted to look for her little girl…
And then she asked, "Why?"
Daryl felt himself frown but she seemed genuinely confused, "All this time, I just wanted to ask you…"
What could he say?
He wanted that little girl to be alive. He wanted her mother to have hope and smile again. Because the world was shitty enough without that extra pain. And maybe, just maybe, "'Cause I think she's still out there."
And that was worth everything.
So while Carol looked him in the eye and let his affirmation breathe flame onto her lapsed faith, Daryl tried to stop the swell of emotion swirl up in his chest…
Gods-damn… do I hear violins?
Cursing Merle, Daryl quickly added, "Truth is… what else have I got to do?"
And even though he could see her watching him from the corner of his eye, he saw her move forward and take a petal to touch… "We'll find her," she confirmed, "we will."
Finally! There was a little relief.
Daryl found himself smiling…
And Carol knew… "I see it."
Perhaps she did… perhaps she saw more than what he was saying.
But for now, Daryl was comfortable knowing she was beside him by the lake, looking at the flowers and sharing that moment…
Whatever else was coming for them, they had this moment; long may it last.