Author's Notes: Thank you. I believe some of you are pleased that they finally got down to it. ;)
TWDTWDTWD
The knocking on the door was faint at first, Carol only heard it in the back of her mind, as if it were the soundtrack to a dream she couldn't quite recall and she merely turned from her back to her side facing towards Daryl on the bed. Eventually, she became more alert and realised that the knocking was coming from the door to the study, still soft yet persistant. She nudged Daryl awake and jumped up from the bed, grabbing the first article of clothing she could reach, which happened to be Daryl's shirt and jamming it over her head. She heard Daryl behind her scrabbling for his pants as she twisted the key in the lock, yanking the door open.
She expected to see Rick or Glenn at the door, maybe calling Daryl to help dispatch some Walker that had strayed over the property boundary. What she didn't expect to see was Beth, hair dishevelled from sleep, clutching a mug of what looked like very weak coffee.
She tugged the shirt down her thighs bringing the door over half her body to hide her half-naked form somewhat, pushing out a hand to Daryl, gesturing that there was no emergency. He cursed under his breath, dropping his crossbow and slumping back on the bed.
"What's wrong?" She asked the younger girl, rubbing a hand over her eyes. Beth thrust the mug out to her, head to the floor.
"I tried to make breakfast, to-to help out. And I thought it would take longer, but it's nearly done, but I think I'm messing it up. Will you help me?" Beth blurted out her words quickly and Carol blinked slowly, trying to make out the meaning in her sleep filled haze.
"What time is it?" She took the mug from the girl, grimacing inwardly at her poor coffee making skills. It had to be early if even Daryl was dead asleep, he was always the first one up in the morning.
"I don't know. It's hasn't been light for long." Beth shifted her weight from one foot to another and Carol let out a small sigh.
"I'll just get dressed, two minutes. Thank you for the coffee." Beth nodded and scarpered back to the kitchen and Carol shut the door, allowing herself a grimace as she took a sip of the weak coffee, sugared way too much for her taste. Daryl had returned to the bed, pants still on but boots lying on the floor, one arm resting to shield his eyes.
"I've got to go help her before she ruins breakfast." She told him, setting the mug down to find her underwear and pants.
Daryl just let out a huff and she just shook her head in amusement. He was clearly unimpressed. She wasn't exactly thrilled to get up either, after all they had hardly any sleep last night and she was pretty sure he would've intended to wake her up for things that did not relate to breakfast.
"It's important to her. And it's important to make her feel better." She chided him lightly, slipping her panties on.
"It's even more important that ya get ya ass in this bed." He told her, grabbing her by the waist as she walked past him for her pants. She let him drag her to sit down beside his head, his arm slipping under the shirt to feel her skin against his fingertips.
"You haven't had enough already?" She asked, patting his cheek lightly, quirking her lips at his behaviour.
"I can skip whatever crap she's cookin' up for whatever you can cook up." He mumbled into her skin, face pressed into her back.
"Is that your best line? It needs some work." She joked and Daryl pushed her away half-heartedly and she slipped away from him to finish dressing. "Get up and get out of here already. I'll make sure there's something edible for you when you get back if you bring me something to cook for dinner."
He just grunted at her and she resisted ruffling his hair, like her fingers itched to do. Instead she just picked up the mug of coffee, leaving him in peace.
TWDTWDTWD
She didn't think it were possible for people to mess up powdered eggs, but Beth was exceptionally capable of doing do. The worktops were littered with half a dozen tins, residue of powdered egg and something sticky that Carol suspected was honey. There were two tins of ham, one opened and sliced haphazardly, the other was only a little way opened, the key to peel back the aluminum had been snapped.
"Right." She took a deep breath and rolled up her shirt sleeves. "What were you trying to make?"
"Eggs, tinned tomatoes, ham and there were some cracker things in the cupboard, I think they are still in date." Beth shook the box in question.
"Alright. I think we'll have to give these eggs a miss and make some fresh." Carol tried not to make a show of how difficult it was to scrape the dried and burnt mess into the sink. "Now, Carl and Glenn won't eat the tinned tomatoes, so we'll open a tin of spagetti O's for them. Lori isn't very good around ham these days, so we'll give her some extra eggs and I think we have a breakfast bar around here for her too."
Carol busied herself with tidying the empty tins and cleaning the dirty work surfaces, directing Beth in the direction of the plates and cutlery that would go out on the kitchen table for Carol to serve food.
She'd managed to discard the inedible messes, trying not to show disappointment in the waste. Every mouthful counted and nothing got thrown away if they could help it. Still, Beth was trying and Carol knew the importance of that. The younger girl reminded her of herself, just a few weeks ago. It was important to feel valued, to find a place in their little group. She was finding hers and she would help Beth find her own too.
Daryl came through the kitchen, crossbow shouldered and Carol handed him a bag of crackers and a cereal bar. He nodded his thanks and made room for Beth to scurry past him with a slightly frightened look on her face as she reached for the glasses.
"Now, Beth." Carol ignored Daryl as he leant against the counter, crunching on his breakfast and continued to teach Beth the art of cooking for such a fussy group when you mostly cooked over opened fire with canned and powdered ingredients. "Glenn and Carl are the fussiest eaters usually, if it resembles a vegetable they'll usually push it around their plates, so don't waste food by trying to force some actual vitamins into their diet. Lori is kind of sensitive to meat smells, but she can usually handle some rabbit especially if it's been seasoned." Carol pushed the empty tins into a refuse sack and handed them to the other girl.
"How do you remember all this stuff?" Beth asked, awestruck.
Carol let out a chuckle. "Been doing it long enough. T-Dog, Rick and Daryl are pretty good eaters, although I know T-Dog isn't struck on fish, not that we get all that much of it. So don't bother giving him the tinned stuff if you can." Carol used a knife to pry the aluminum from the broken can of ham. "Can you just drop that stuff outside, by the other bag?"
Beth nodded and skirted around Daryl to get to the door and Daryl pushed himself off the counter to tuck the remaining crackers back into the cupboard.
"How do ya remember that crap? And why do ya even give a shit? If Glenn and Carl wanna be fussy idiots, let 'em starve." He told her.
"Because it's important to them. Like I remember that you don't really like curry sauce or hotdog sausages. It keeps things a little bit more normal 'round here."
Daryl quirked an eyebrow at that. He didn't recall ever telling her he wasn't particularly keen on either of those things. He ate what was available without fuss, although it always took him that little bit longer to finish his plate when it was something he didn't like. He didn't know whether he was impressed or a little bit fearful that she noticed something as small as that. How closely did she watch him?
"It's not just you I've learnt these things from." She told him, whipping the tea cloth she held against his arm. Carol saw the look in his eyes, the kind of look someone might have when they realise they had a bunny boiler on their tail. "What else have I got to do? You said to me once, that having some worth wasn't about using a gun. I have to find my worth in other ways and if that means being a Stepford wife, then so be it." She stopped when she realised that her words were inching closer to a speech.
He just nodded and Beth tumbled back into the house, huffing slightly. "There's a deer down the bottom of the garden." She told him, a hand rubbing across her brow. Daryl perked up instantly at her words, stalking out the door without a second look at either of them and as he headed up the garden path she could see him scanning the area, looking for his prize.
"Ok, how about we wait for a few people to wake up before we actually begin cooking? We'll get some coffee on, prep a few bits and then see who's about after that." Carol asked the girl, almost as if it wasn't her idea at all and Beth nodded her agreement.
"Carol, why is Daryl so scary all the time?"
Carol just laughed and turned herself back to the cupboards, hoping to find some better coffee.
TWDTWDTWD
That evening, there was venison for dinner. It took him hours to find the deer, a runt of a thing that looked like it needed a good meal itself. It wasn't his finest kill, but it would do for a couple of meals. He cleaned it himself, handing Carol chunks of flesh to slice up and cook. She wasn't squeamish at all, despite her aversion to using a weapon on a Walker, simply rolling up her sleeves and getting on with it. Beth and Carl lingered in the background, he washed up outside and watched the three of them through the kitchen window, Carol's head was bent down low, but he could see she was speaking to them, but the two watched with an expression of morbid curiosity that only children had and he heard Beth's squeal when Carol lifted her hands to them, fingers waggling, red with blood.
He had to stop himself from smiling at the scene, it was getting way too Brady Bunch meets the Addams Family for his liking. They needed to move on from this house, it was too small and it way too difficult to get some privacy. Daryl preferred the tents they used back at the Greene farm, where he could pitch up as far away as he wanted, free to come and go as he pleased. Now someone always knew where he was, what he was doing. It was kind of nice, to know that it was actually important to the rest of them. That what he thought could be important, that what he did was relevant. He had a say in the safety of the group as whole. But it was kind of shit scary too. There were expectations. Requirements to be met. People looked to him.
He put forth the idea of getting further north to Rick that evening. They'd always intended to go as far as they could, no set destination in mind, just thinking of getting away. He thought perhaps they were getting too comfortable here, but Daryl wasn't. It wasn't just the property they squeezed themselves into, but the area itself. The town nearest wouldn't be enough for them, the forestry wasn't good enough for hunting and the river not close enough. It just didn't feel right. Even if they just made it to Nebraska or Iowa he would be happier. He'd been deer hunting in Nebraska once and he knew that there would be pheasants and wild turkey. Nebraska was one of the less populated states too, which meant more supplies and less Walkers. And they usually got snow in the winter.
Rick seemed reasonably favourable when he mentioned it that evening, getting the maps out to have a look at potential routes.
"I've been wondering about whether the snow and the cold will affect the Walkers. Wouldn't they just fall apart? Or freeze?" Rick pondered.
"Yeah, but the cold could end up killin' us too. It's gonna slow us down and if it don't slow 'em some, then it's over for us too." Daryl cleared his throat, turning his gaze back to the route Rick had traced out with his finger.
"We've got to try. But Nebraska, it's the last stop. This side of winter at least. Glenn found a more detailed map of Nebraska in the library in town today, there's a couple of places worth looking at, for a more permanent place. A holiday resort, a national park, couple of the more isolated trailer parks and an army base."
"It's gonna take weeks to check these out, clear out any Geeks, build supplies." Daryl didn't want to put a dampener on things, but he suspected Rick was living a little in a fantasy world. He knew of the sheriff's hope for some authority to be found, take them in, keep them safe. Daryl did not have the same faith. In the old world, he had learned from a young age to distrust authority and he held firm in that belief now. They were on their own. "There's noone out there waiting for us, Rick."
Rick took a breath, turning away from Daryl and the maps. "I know. I know that. I do." He ran a hand over his weary face. "We'll get going day after tomorrow, then."
Daryl nodded. Nebraska it was, then.