They had done it! The prison was theirs!
Once it had sunk in, Daryl punched the air in victory as he heard Carol laugh…
They turned to each other, gun and crossbow forgotten as they clumsily hugged, squeezing each other before drawing only an inch away…
Daryl froze…
They were so close.
The light in Carol's eyes changed from joy to something a little more indescribable, which made him suddenly afraid.
"Are…" she whispered, fluttering her eyes and wetting her lip with her tongue… the motion stirring within him… "Are you ok?"
He had to bite back his fear; never done him no good in life to this point and wasn't about to start.
"I'm good," he told her, trying to keep the shiver from his voice…
She regarded him…
She don't believe you… Merle stated…
Daryl didn't suppose she did…
Why don't you let her show you a thing or two?
Would that actually be such a bad thing? He could just reach forward and kiss her then let the adrenaline pumping through their veins do the rest.
Especially when she was gazing at him like that; like he was the only perfect thing in this messed up world…
A shot rang out below them and Daryl startled, entirely breaking the moment… "We should get down there."
Carol ran her hands down her clothes, breathing in deeply and nodding in agreement.
They left the watchtower.
()()()()
The prison lawn seemed secure enough; nevertheless, Daryl had set up his camp on the upturned bus not too far away from the campfire, but granting enough distance to let him alone to his own thoughts.
Thoughts that were so mixed up that he could hardly tell which one he should face first.
Then there was Carol.
He thought of her more and more each day…
Damned near drove him crazy…
But it seemed that, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't leave her alone.
He couldn't explain it.
And what was more… she didn't seem to want to leave him alone either…
That's when he heard her climbing up the coach-frame; bringing with her a plate…
"It's not much," she apologised immediately, "but I knew if I didn't bring you something you wouldn't eat at all…"
Daryl appreciated it; he knew she was right… so he happily threw the cooked goods into his mouth and figured he should make a comment… something funny to break the moment…
He had it! "Yeah… I guess little Shane over there has got quite the appetite," he snickered.
Carol huffed a laugh before reprimanding, "Don't be mean…" She turned to look about the group at the camp… "Rick's gotten us a lot further than I ever thought he would, I'll give him that."
Daryl huffed, supposing it was as close as she was ever going to get to an apology for what she had said about the man before they had arrived at this place…
But Carol suddenly darkened, muttering, "Shane could never have done that."
Didn't need to tell him that! Daryl had never trusted that home-wrecking, self-important scmuck!
Before his internal rant could honestly take hold, Carol rolled her shoulders, angling her head in discomfort… causing him to ask, "What's wrong?"
She shook off the moment, explaining, "That rifle… the kickback…" she gripped her on shoulder, rolling it against her hand for some small relief, "I'm just not used to it…"
Shooting wasn't an easy thing to get used to… he remembered his experience was like being kicked in the shoulder by a mule…
Best thing for him was when his mom had given his sore muscles a rub… sooo…
"C'mere…" he mumbled, slightly embarrassed but determined to help; setting down his plate, cleaning his fingers and roughly turning her away to work on the tight tendons and sinews in her shoulder…
She let him work his fingers about her, feeling the muscle tense and relax as she breathed into the air… he had found a tight cluster only a few inches down from her neck that he pressed into, relentlessly rubbing the tension away and hearing her quietly sigh at the release…
He felt a small smile on his face as his fingers hardened at the point of her pleasure, kneading the knot in her shoulder until she sighed again, a little more audibly…
It made him feel good; made him feel…
Shit! What was he doing?!
His fingers stilled.
The blush hit his cheeks as he realised he was enjoying the moment a little too much and distracted, "We better get back."
Carol smiled to herself and turned a little toward him; Daryl tried not to betray himself… but he couldn't meet her eye…
"It's pretty romantic," she said quickly, turning to him and flicking her eyes over his frame and sucking in her cheeks… "Screw around?"
Daryl felt a stone in his throat! He couldn't breathe, let alone swallow in order to answer and he was certain his eyes were bulging! So, in a panic, he blew a derisive sound… hoping the gut-wrenching feeling in his stomach would abate…
Thankfully, Carol began to laugh…
So she was joking?
I don't think she was joking, little brother… Merle sounded in his head, should have jumped at the chance… gonna take her some time before another offer like that…
Fuck off Merle!
He had to get out of there… leave the confusion behind… so he bent to crawl down the bus announcing, "I'll go down first."
"Even better!" Carol cried happily.
Daryl almost chocked on his words… what could he say? There was only one thing he could plead… "Stop…"
And she did…
Should have let her explain a little more…
Shut up Merle!
Here's hoping you don't regret it, little brother…
()()()
Why was it that this was all he seemed to know these days?
Daryl reveled in the thrill of danger; he was acclimatized to it… it focused him, made him sharp and gave him purpose. It was the only reason he was of any use to the crew he had around him; only thing Rick really needed him for.
It was a simple thing, move, control, contain and secure… In another life he may have taken this skill to a professional level… maybe the army… but you only get one shot and his was pretty rotten as it was.
So, he figured, this was the next best thing.
Disaster; walkers had invaded the prison somehow… locate, destroy and make everyone he had grown used to safe.
He almost didn't have to think about it… until he saw it lying in the middle of the floor in the bowels of the prison.
Such a small thing… but it shattered his resolve far more effectively than any rampaging hoard of zombies could.
After finding T-Dog not a few meters away, the sight of Carols abandoned headscarf shook him… it was hard to even process what he was feeling.
She had to be near… had to be.
That's when he heard the metallic thunking of a door being endlessly pushed and bouncing back off the thigh of a corpse. The room was blocked… but there was almost certainly a walker behind the door…
The silk of Carols scarf tightened as Daryls hand squeezed into a fist… it couldn't be her, could it?
You're going to have to see…
Daryl felt his head shake…
You ain't gonna wanna leave her like that if it's true…
He couldn't! Couldn't think on it… not at that moment…
You'll have to face it, little brother.
Not now!
And as he moved through the rest of the crisis, he tried not to think of the scarf now tucked safely into his pocket but it was almost impossible not to wonder and fear…
All it would have taken was for a lucky son-of-a-bitch to sneak up on him in that moment and he would have been a gonner…
But the end of the crisis came with the surprise revelation of sabotage and betrayal… and that little shit, Andrew, had caused all of the death and pain.
They buried T-Dog, Lorrie and Carol later that day… the others had headed inside.
Daryl couldn't process it all, but the next day arrived and he found himself stood at the unmarked and empty grave of Carol Peletier… Didn't seem right.
She had been through so much and faced every challenge… to be taken away over revenge against someone else…
Carol hadn't even been found. Part of him hated that. He knew that, at some point, he would see her again. But when he did see her those blue eyes that sparkled when they turned to him would be dull and lifeless, her skin would be sallow and grey and she wouldn't know she had ever been the one person that made Daryl Dixon feel like a real person…
He should have told her while he'd had the chance.
Shouldn't have let anything stop him.
He was scared; who wasn't scared.
That's why he was here, staring at the blank wooden cross that marked her memory. He hoped he could finally manage to say the words to her in death he had never said in life… but being close to someone, caring that way… it was never something could face.
Having someone to care for only meant you lost that bit more when they went away.
So he was caught; wanting and not wanting… and he still managed to lose.
The flower in his hand was soft, the great, white petals of the Cherokee rose offered little comfort as he laid it down on Carols grave. Seemed like it was the least he could do.
Daryl sniffed back the feelings running through him and laughed a little, wondering where the hell Merle was when he needed him…
Right here, little brother.
Then why don't you say something.
Merle was silent a moment, What do you want me to say?
I don't know, Daryl toes the dry mud at the graveside, tell me I'm full of it and that she was just some doll I coulda done without saving time and again and that I don't owe her nuthin' and that feelin' sorry for somethin' we never have won't change nuthin'.
Merle was quiet again…
Say somthin'… Daryl pleaded.
I'll miss her too.
Tears sprang up in Daryls eyes… He didn't know how to deal with this…
C'mon, Merle suggested, I have an idea on what we can do…
Daryl already knew what he was going to suggest… it was his brain, afterall…
Let's go kill some walkers!
And, with that, Daryl headed back to the prison.
()()()