Chapter Two!
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His lungs were frozen. His lips were tight. His fingers strummed on his knees and the muscles in his face twitched almost uncontrollably.
The woman was trying to kill him.
He just knew it.
Daryl had practically seized up the moment Carol dared to run her hands through his hair- and sure, he knew she was trying to get the loose stray strands out, but it was still far more touching than he'd expected.
And it felt like a lightning bolt had struck his spine.
He jumped a bit in the chair when her fingers skimmed his scalp again, and he knew by the way she sped up the cutting that she had noticed. His reaction was making her nervous. Or worried.
Or both.
Daryl chewed his lip and tried not to let another pathetic little whine escape his throat. After all, what kind of person freaked-the-fuck-out over having someone play with their hair?
A freak, smart guy.
A growl rumbled when his lungs finally gave way to exhale, and Carol stopped cutting again. He sat rigid in the chair and waited for her to shock his system again: to resume whatever amazing magic-touching shit she seemed to have a talent for, to send his gut rolling again in a way that he couldn't quite bring himself to hate.
But she had stopped and backed away from the chair.
"Okay…done. I think this is as good as it's gonna get without a set of clippers for your neckline."
Daryl craned his neck back to watch her behind him, and caught the way she ran her eyes across his face with that all-too familiar look of concern in her eyes.
As if she was trying to figure him out. Again.
He stood from the chair and faced her; reached up to run a hand through his hair to gauge her handiwork, and found the length to be about what it was when he and Merle first joined the group at the quarry.
Carol stood fingering the scissors in her hands and she seemed to be waiting for his opinion.
Her eyes met his and she offered one of those quick little half-smiles before lowering her gaze.
Daryl felt his throat close when he realized she was staring at his mouth.
Was she waiting for him to say something?
Or…
His fingers wrapped around the cool metal of the lawn chair as he snatched it and began folding it up.
"I'll just…set this back by the RV."
He didn't give her chance to respond as he rushed past her, his face hot and head light.
"The ticks and chiggers are gonna be getting bad again soon; need to make sure everyone is careful in the woods, have them check themselves after…." Rick had been yapping for several minutes, relaying his concerns and plans for the onset of spring, and while Daryl listened, his mind was not entirely focused on the man's words.
Hiking the crossbow upward to rest against his shoulder, he jumped a fallen limb and picked up the pace to catch up to Rick's retreating figure. They'd walked to the edge of the perimeter set to scout for walkers, the camp by now half-a-forest and a few fields away. Rick took lead as usual, and that was fine by him.
Daryl would admit by this point that the man was good at what he did; Rick was a natural leader and a good man at that….
The latter wasn't as important to him, but he figured it counted for something.
The edge of the park's grounds circled around back toward the campsite, and several old trails branched off in the woods to lead to different areas. He and Rick had followed the grown-over stone trail that led to the 'haunted' cabin at the other end of the park, checked it for walkers, and then headed down another toward the creek that had apparently been used for arrowhead hunting once upon a time.
Daryl eyed the soft flow of the water as they followed the creek back to the tree line.
He wondered if she'd care to come do such a thing with him…
"Daryl?"
His head snapped up and he found that Rick had already broken out into the field and was preparing to head back across the grounds. He could see Rick's hand raise the Python an inch, caution in his body language as he craned his head to seek Daryl out through the trees.
"I hear ya'; comin'."
Rick's shoulders relaxed and Daryl slung the crossbow over his own and moved faster to catch up again.
He ignored the relieved look on Rick's face as he brushed past him.
"Let's go. This heat's hell already."
They were halfway back when Daryl saw it.
Rick was going on about something again, his daughter's name floating to Daryl's ears every two seconds and a laugh following nearly every time. Daryl was sure the fatherhood thing was special and all, but he really didn't give damn how many times the girl had smiled at Carl that day, or how strong a grip she had for a baby….
But Daryl didn't tell Rick that.
Figured it was easier to let the guy boast.
He froze when the flash of color and movement caught his eye, and Rick instantly lowered his own stance and pulled the Python back out, following Daryl's nod toward the trees on the opposite side of the field.
They crept closer, moved slow, and Daryl stepped in front of the other man as they recognized the human figure. The sight of the crossbow met his eye and he let it hover over the target for a few seconds as he closed in…
And then the short clipped hair and purple tank-top came into view.
"Dammit." Daryl lowered the bow in a flash of anger, jerking his head up to see Carol moving along the trees, head down and body crouched slightly as if looking for something.
Rick stepped forward and released a breath.
"Just Carol. What's she doing so far from camp alone?"
Daryl met the man's eyes and felt his lip curl.
"Don't know; she knows better than that shit."
And he was about to remind her of that.
He watched her for a moment, hovering behind a tree out of her line of sight.
Woman was a curiosity when she focused on something; her brows were furrowed and her mouth a tight line, fingers laced together and tapping the opposite knuckles as she searched the ground.
Daryl felt his spine stiffen again when her tongue shot out to run across her lips and she sighed at herself.
He was glad then that Rick had chosen to go on ahead to the camp, trusting him to bring Carol back safely.
He felt sure the man would have a prodding word or two to say about Daryl's spying.
She wasn't far from his hiding spot, and if she'd just turn and look in his direction, she'd surely spot him. But she had crouched to the forest floor by another tree and seemed to be busy with something.
Daryl caught the flash of white below her tank-top, the bottom edge rising above her jean-line and showing the skin of her back.
A bead of sweat broke onto his brow and he stepped out from behind the tree with a silent curse.
"What're you doin'?"
She jumped, coming very close to barreling backward onto her ass and he tried to maintain his scowl despite the amusement of it. She was, after all, being a fucking idiot wandering about by herself.
He watched her compose herself, a hand flying to her chest and a knee landing in the dirt to steady her reeling body. She looked up at him and he towered over her with purpose.
"I was—"
"The hell you doin' out here alone? Drop your brain somewhere and forget to pick it up?"
She stood then, and he stepped back at the way she seemed to lean towards him. His harsh tone had no effect, and that was usual nowadays.
Woman had built a freaking forcefield against his insults and it both impressed him and drove him near crazy.
His gaze dropped to the hand she extended, palm up and open and he easily recognized what she held.
"Carl fell from the tire-swing not too long ago, skinned his elbow up. Lori washed it but I thought some aloe would help."
The thick, thorny leaves in her hand oozed a bit onto her skin, but her fingers closed around them and she shrugged at him.
"Now that I think about it, I should've just dug up the whole plant to bring back to the camp…"
Daryl watched her reach down with her free hand to brush the dirt from her jeans, turn the hand over to wipe the moisture from her brow, and straighten up to smile at him quietly.
He fidgeted under her stare and remembered to be angry at her.
"No one goes too far alone. You know that. Tryin' to get yourself killed?"
"I checked with Andrea before crossing into the tree line. She could still see me through the binoculars."
He blinked as she immediately rebutted him and he huffed.
She gave him that amused, curious look that he hated (but didn't) and he circled her halfway before invading her space deliberately.
"Pretty sure she cain't see you this far in. Don't be stupid. Kid don't need aloe; that's what scabs are for." He tried then, so hard, not to raise his voice. It'd been some time since he last lashed out at her, and damned if he didn't regret it to hell and back.
But he'd growled, and she'd heard it, and she still smiled at him like the whole conversation was one big joke.
Teeth sank into his lip and he stepped closer, the heat of her skin hitting his own as he breathed into her face:
"You even think to bring a weapon?"
The sound of a knife being unsheathed had him looking down to find the metal blade glinting in the sunlight that fought through the trees, and he bit back his smirk.
It was his pocket knife, and he'd given it to her not long after they'd settled in the camp.
Never seen her strap it to her hip, though; but then, he'd never really thought to look at those hips before…
Carol slid the blade back into its sheath and looked out towards the field.
"We should get back, so I can get this aloe to Carl."
He hadn't moved back from his closeness to her, and he watched as the muscles in her face moved with her jaw. Her eyes flickered to his and he took a step away to let her breathe.
Raising his eyes to the forest ceiling, he gauged the time of day and realized midday had just passed. The heat would get worse before getting better, and they ought to head back to camp beforehand.
Daryl looked back to the direction he and Rick had trekked from and his mouth made a decision before his brain could:
"You said you wanted to get a whole plant to take back, right? Come on; boy's skint elbow can wait a few more minutes."
He could feel her hesitation the entire time they walked, the tension in the air as she took her time and continuously looked back toward the camp.
Damn woman was too motherly, too fixated on taking care of everyone; the idea of doing something for herself was obviously nerve-wracking to her. Daryl stopped as he neared the creek and turned on her.
"Carl tear his arm clean open?"
She was watching the edge of the trees again when he snapped, and her eyes were wide when they met his.
"What? No…"
"Then stop fidgeting. He ain't dyin'."
"I know, it's just—"
"Just nothin'. Relax, will you? There're a few aloe plants near the creek here. We'll dig one up and be back in time for you to play doctor."
She smiled at him then, and Daryl ducked his head away from the sight.
Stop smiling when I snap at you, woman. Just ain't right.
The creek came into view and they broke off the trail onto the dirty forest floor, and Daryl scanned the ground with trained eyes. He remembered seeing some of those plants near the trail as he and Rick had checked the area, but for the life of him he couldn't pinpoint their location again.
"Damn. They may have been farther up the creek side." He mumbled to himself more than to her, but when she responded with a hum of acknowledgement to show she'd heard him, he stopped to turn back to her again.
"See that old sign down there?" He gestured past her to a bend in the creek, where a leaning wooden post was set up by the trail.
"Yeah?"
"Says the creek is full of arrowheads. Or it was, anyway. Don't know if folks had dug em' all out before everything ended…"
His change of subject wasn't on a whim; Carol relaxed and looked down at the creek curiously, and Daryl felt his chest tighten and his lip quirk in his victory.
As she leaned over the bank to stare into the water, she made another humming sound and glanced over at him.
"Maybe we could look for some next time…"
Daryl's lungs seized up again.
He nodded with a short grunt and turned away before she could see him smile.
The grass in the fields was growing high quickly, and Daryl glanced back at her without breaking stride.
"Watch your feet; snakes are probably hiding from the sun right now, but I wouldn't take chances."
The woman behind him shifted the small plant in her arms and bent her head down to scan the ground as she walked.
The sun was trying to lean to the west now, late afternoon on the way and they still had a field-and-a-half to go. It would have been easier to follow one of the forest trails back to camp, he knew, but it was safer to cross the open space where they could be spotted by whoever was watching them through the rifle scope on the RV.
A cooler wind blew through the grass and Daryl inhaled the familiar smells of the wild, his body naturally calming as a result and his grip on the crossbow loosening just slightly. A sigh escaped behind him and his step faltered at the blissful sound.
"It's nice out here. You can smell the flowers."
His smile was hidden but he let it come.
"….Yeah."
A sudden gasp was her response, and the moment was destroyed by the fear he heard in it.
Daryl whipped around to find Carol staring at something to her right, and his hands clenched the bow tight as he followed her pointing finger.
A figure trudged and stumbled across the grass towards them, balance practically non-existent, arms flailing loosely at the sides.
Walker.
He took aim quickly, and Carol stepped farther back to give him space.
Its head was in his sight and his finger tightened on the trigger…
And then an arm shot up at them.
"Don't shoot!"
The hell?
The man disappeared suddenly and Daryl realized he'd collapsed into the grass.
Crossbow raised and ready, he approached the fallen figure quickly but cautiously. He wasn't the type of person to put it past a man to fake something like this in order to ambush them….
The man was still moving when they reached his side, and he heard Carol whisper God's name to herself at the sight of him.
Clothes and skin dirty and torn, the guy looked like he'd been crawling through briar patches for days. Brown hair, speckled with grey, stuck to his sweaty forehead and equally brown eyes fought focus on them as they leaned over his body.
A hand raised in a pathetic attempt at defense.
"Please don't…"
Daryl felt Carol's warmth beside him and instantly shot his arm out to usher her behind his back.
Growling his words he shoved the bolt into the man's face and demanded,
"You bit?"
The figure licked his split dry lips and shook his head.
Not enough.
"Answer me, asshole. Are you bit? Tell me before I let this bolt loose in your eye!"
"No, no—I'm not bitten, I swear. Please…I've been runnin' for days, I just need—", the slurred words went silent as his eyes rolled back into his head and the man proceeded to pass out in the middle of the field.
Daryl allowed the bolt to hover over the unconscious man's head for a few seconds, considering his options. It'd be so much easier to just pull the trigger and get rid of the stranger without making a fuss about it….
Movement stirred behind him and he watched as Carol stepped into the line of fire, crouching to lean over the man's limp body.
He jerked the bow away and glared down at her as she laid one hand on the guy's forehead, dropping the aloe plant to lift her other to lay over his heart.
"I don't see any blood."
I can fix that.
"I think he was telling the truth; he doesn't seem bit."
Don't know that for sure, woman.
"Daryl…."
Jesus, don't say it…
"…he needs help. We should get Rick."
God. Dammit.