Carol and Daryl have separate talks with friends who try to help them before they meet to decide what their next step should be.
Full of Grace
I feel just like I'm sinking
and I claw for solid ground
I'm pulled down by the undertow
I never thought I could feel so low
oh darkness I feel like letting go
if all of the strength and all of the courage
come and lift me from this place
I know I can love you much better than this
full of grace
full of grace
my love
- Sarah McLachlan
"Just you?" Eric asked, sitting on the porch swing, looking at Carol who was coming up the side walk. She had a cloth bag in her hand and a pensive look on her face.
"Not sure." Carol replied, continuing up onto the porch and joining him on the swing. She unslung her bag and let it rest on the floor at her feet.
Eric put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a side hug. He placed a kiss on her temple before releasing her. Carol stayed close, feeling so low it was all she could do not to cry, leaning against him, accepting the comfort he offered.
"Did you talk to him?" Eric asked, "Tell him how you felt?"
Carol nodded yes.
"And then everything went to hell again last night with the fire..." she said. "There was no time to really talk this morning either. I haven't seen him all day. I came straight here from the Clinic."
"It's Spaghetti Tuesday—where else would you be?" Aaron asked smoothly from the doorway, holding a bottle of red wine and four glasses. Coming closer, he set the glasses down on the end table and started to pour the wine for each of them.
"No Morgan?" Carol asked, knowing that their house guest being absent would please Daryl if he decided to make an appearance.
"He's out communing with nature." Aaron said, gesturing with the bottle towards the fences.
"Also known as communing with Sasha." Eric said archly, taking his glass of wine from Aaron.
"Really?" Carol asked with surprise.
"He's been going out on perimeter patrol with her the last few nights. Not sure if there's any more to it than he needs to get outside the walls as badly as she does." Aaron shrugged.
"That's where they were last night?" Carol asked. Sasha had been there in time to help fight the fire, but she wasn't one of the first on the scene.
"She stopped by to get him after dinner and they came back in when Spencer called in the Code Red." Eric said. "I saw them."
Eric saw a lot that went on in the neighborhood from his favorite place here on the porch.
"And I see someone else on his way down the block..." Eric said with a smile.
Carol followed his gaze line and saw Daryl, moving towards them as quickly as his crutches would allow on the sidewalk. When he saw her sitting on the porch drinking wine with the other two men, he slowed and a look of relief washed over his face. He made his way through the yard and up onto the porch, breathing only slightly heavier than usual.
"Good evening, Mr. Dixon." Eric said in mock formal tones.
"Daryl." Aaron said, offering him a glass of wine.
"You weren't there." Daryl said, ignoring their hosts' greetings and speaking directly and somewhat accusingly to Carol. "I went to the house and you weren't there."
"It's Tuesday." Carol said, frowning at him, "I eat here on Tuesdays whether you and Aaron are here or not."
"It's Spaghetti Tuesday—where else would you be?" Aaron repeated to Carol and tried handing Daryl his glass again.
Daryl scowled at him and kept staring at Carol.
Aaron and Eric exchanged a look and then Aaron made a slight head motion towards the inside of the house. He sat the wine bottle and glass back down and then Eric stood up.
"Sit down, Daryl." Eric said, using his cane to stand and offering Daryl his seat.
"What?" Daryl reacted slowly, staggering back a bit when Eric passed in front of him, following Aaron inside the house.
"We have to check the garlic bread...or something..." Aaron called back and then the screen door slammed behind him and Eric.
"Are you going to sit?" Carol asked, taking a sip of her wine and then setting it down on the small table next to her.
"You movin' in here?" Daryl asked in a tight voice, pointing to the bag at her feet.
Carol looked down at the bag and then picked it up and handed it to him. He shuffled a little so he could free up his hands to hold the bag while still leaning on the crutches.
"Open it." she told him.
All it held was a Tupperware container half full of misshapen cookies.
"My turn to bring dessert," Carol said flatly.
Daryl let out a heavy huff and handed the bag back to her. She tossed it back down onto the floor.
"I wouldn't leave without telling you." Carol said, looking up at him. The look he gave her back said they both knew she'd tried to before. "I won't." she said more softly, promising him.
Daryl stared at her and then finally nodded. He left his crutches propped up against the railing, took off and set down his bow and then limped over to sink down onto the bench beside her.
"But you don't want to go home with me either." Daryl said in a low voice.
Carol leaned against his shoulder, both of them facing forward, the truth hanging in the air between them.
Four hours earlier
After the meeting in the Armory with Rick and the others, Daryl had needed to find a place to think. He was frustrated with his friends even suggesting that Carol could have been the one to kill the captive Wolves. If anything, since they had been here in Alexandria, Carol had been too willing to include Rick in her plans, holding back on any actions until she'd discussed them with him and Daryl.
Rick had been the one to go off half cocked and attack Pete, the information provided by Sam through Carol about the abusive nature of the household he lived in giving the Constable enough pretext to go after what he'd wanted in the first place, another man's wife.
After living through the ordeal with Shane, Daryl just couldn't wrap his head around what Rick had been thinking in his pursuit of Jessie. In some ways the sad end of the couple mirrored what had happened with Shane and Lori. Rick had killed the one and the other had died trying to save her child.
Daryl crutched down the back streets of the small fortified town, heading for the farthest part of the wall, telling himself that he was going to check on the progress of the work on Eugene's surveillance system, but really just needing to be alone and think.
By the time he got to the gardens, his aching arm pits and sweat drenched shirt forced him to slow and pause under the shade of one of the peach trees at the edge of the fenced in space where several people worked at harvesting the fall vegetables.
A spirited discussion coming from the plot in front of him drew his attention. A tall pale redhead dressed in jeans, boots and a form fitting blouse showing off her slender figure was arguing with a short dark haired Hispanic looking woman, the billowy peasant dress she wore doing little to conceal the fact that she was quite pregnant.
The women reached seemed to be disagreeing about whom should pass first through the gate leaving the enclosure. The redhead was carrying a large wicker basket filled with produce, but instead of letting her companion hold the gate open for her to pass through she tried to shift her load onto her hip so she could hold it open for the smaller woman.
"Oh, for the love of Gaia! Just get the fuck through there before you drop it!" the dark haired woman said loudly and the red head snorted at her and finally went through the gate.
"You two ever stop bitchin'?" Daryl called out in a lazy drawl as the women drew closer.
"Daryl!" the dark haired woman cried out happily, shading her eyes and squinting over at him.
"Dixon!" the redhead said with narrowed green eyes and then turned to her partner to snark, "Did you bring the flea spray, 'licia?"
"Now be nice, Claire—we're inside the walls now—he must've bathed recently. Perhaps even using flea shampoo on that dead muskrat he calls a haircut." The other woman said, adding, "You have to feel sorry for his woman though—all that wear and tear on his crotch riding that bastard of a bike must give him some difficulties..."
Felicia reached in the basket Claire was carrying and pulled out a freshly harvested carrot, holding it up by the greens so the phallic root stood straight and vertical, but then slowly let in fall to the side, illustrating the innuendo.
"Leave my crotch outa this—ain't got no problems in that department." Daryl, said, a blush starting at his collar line. He shook an admonishing finger at them.
"If you say so, Biceps—but anytime you feel like talking about 'lil Dixon's shortcomings, just give us a shout." Felicia said archly, with a mischievous smile.
"For two women who don't drive stick, you sure like to talk about my dick." Daryl grumped good-naturedly, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.
"You saying it all comes back to penis envy, Dixon?" Claire asked archly.
Daryl just shook his head at the psychologist and snorted.
"We've missed you, Daryl." Felicia said more quietly, coming close enough to pull him in to a careful hug.
Daryl allowed the embrace, but froze when he felt the odd sensation of the child within her swollen belly punch or kick against him as she held him tightly.
Claire and Felicia were the women that he and Aaron had found a few weeks ago on their recruiting mission. Sheltering in an abandoned strip mall on the outskirts of Langley, they had made use of everything available in the stores and restaurants, barricading themselves in the walk-in freezer of a butcher shop at night or when a herd came through.
Claire had almost shot Daryl as the men searched the sporting goods store next door for anything useable. Aaron's clean cut look had made her curious though and stayed her hand when they also willingly surrendered their weapons, asking for a chance to explain who they were.
Aaron had given his usual spiel about the ASZ: the walls, the safety of the place, the good people, but Daryl didn't say much. At first Felicia's pregnancy seemed to throw him, make him skittish. He left for several hours right after the women had decided to come back to the Zone, returning with a half dozen rabbits, which he wordlessly skinned, cleaned and then handed over for cooking.
During the two days they'd stayed there, Daryl continued to scavenge the area, his bike allowing him to make a wider sweep than they had been able to do on foot and brought back things like pre-natal vitamins and baby formula. However his silent kindness made the women nervous—Claire thought he was claiming Felicia and the kid as his own—so she confronted him, telling him point blank that they were together; a committed in-love couple.
Daryl explained that they'd reminded him of someone, the woman he loved and her best friend. That he'd seen how his woman, Carol, had taken care of her pregnant friend and then how they'd saved her baby when she died. He assured them he wasn't after Felicia or her child, his dick was already spoken for and he was glad to hear they weren't interested in it.
The women had a forthright and no-holds barred attitude about sex and sexualities and had no trouble with the Dixon mouth, spouting at least the same level of obscenities in their everyday speech as Daryl, maybe even close to Merle level.
During the trip back to the Zone, they had all gotten along well, but the women had mostly spoken with Aaron while riding together in the car. Daryl was solicitous, and they felt comfortable enough with him to tease him, but he didn't really reveal much about himself after the small glimpse he'd given them about Carol and Lori.
When they'd gotten to Alexandria and saw what a conservative community it was, the women decided to play it very low key. The failure of the attempted ruse about Claire being a medical doctor had made them want to lie low, until people had let their disappointment fade into the background a bit.
When she'd revealed to Deanna that she was a psychologist, Claire had expected to have the residents approach her about counseling sessions, but so far none had. Some seemed intent on looking to their faith for a way to cope and they'd gravitated towards Gabriel and his church; others were thrown by the women's obvious relationship—they wore matching wedding bands and referred to each other as "wife"—and yet others were afraid that if they delved too deep into what had happened to them since the Turn, they'd simply fall apart.
They liked Daryl, liked his quiet compassion despite his rough ways, and thought they'd see more of him when they got to the ASZ, but he'd been busy with the preparations for the Wolves and spent whatever free time he had with Carol. The house they'd been assigned was on the other side of town and without a specific invitation, they hadn't sought him out.
Though they'd met her when she'd brought their welcome basket, they hadn't realized that the prim and proper Carol who worked at the Pantry was Daryl's Carol until after Pete's death and the business with the Wolves. when Felicia's prenatal care had fallen to the women staffing the Clinic, including Carol. The reserved petite woman with the grey hair and shrewd blue eyes seemed an unlikely match for the gravel voiced hard ass with a heart of gold they'd gotten to know a bit on the road.
"How have you been?" Felicia asked, concerned after feeling the tension in his body and releasing him.
"I'm fine." Daryl said, leaning back against the tree to take some weight off his leg and then looking her up and down and squinting at her belly, "You look like a happy tick, on an ol' coonhound, ready to pop!"
"That is the most disgusting description of pregnancy I think I have ever heard." Claire said, setting her basket down and grimacing at him. She made no move to embrace him, more respectful of his "keep away" non-verbals than her wife.
"Ain't no lie." Daryl shrugged, making both women shake their heads at him.
"Any progress in figuring out what happened last night?" Claire asked, knowing he would be in the thick of the investigation.
Daryl's eyes became troubled and he shook his head no.
"I was thinking—maybe I could help." Claire offered tentatively. "Working up a profile of who would do something like this—it's...it's what I used to do."
"Claire!" Felicia said anxiously, looking worried.
"It is? Thought you were a headshrinker." Daryl asked, frowning.
"I was a criminal profiler." Claire admitted. "Worked out of Langley."
"Holy shit." Daryl mumbled. Langley was where the headquarters of the CIA had been located.
"When it all went down—the Turn—we knew, before anyone, how bad it was going to get. That's why they cleared out DC, this whole area so early on." Claire said. It was the same thing Deanna had told Rick when they'd arrived. She and her family had been trying to get back to Ohio, but were turned back, ending up here in the Zone.
"But she waited too long, making sure everyone she worked with, everyone in her apartment building, was out and safe." Felicia said fondly, taking Claire's hand. "Looters stopped her, beat her, and took her car..."
"They took everything." Claire said simply. "I ended up at the place you found us—I used to shop there..."
"My husband, Paul, and I were stationed at the Joint base—Air Force." Felicia said. "Computer tech support. We were tasked with keeping the lines of communication open during the evacuation, but then the chain of command just fell apart. The CO tried to hold it together, but people started to lose it, opting out when they heard the CDC was gone, that there was no cure; people turned without being bit...we lasted about six months after that, until the supplies ran low at our base. He told us to just go; we'd all die there if we didn't try to find a way out."
"So how did you—when did you—?" Daryl tried asking, his confusion apparent. He'd just assumed they'd been together before, like Aaron and Eric. He hadn't wanted to imagine how Felicia had ended up pregnant, knowing all too well what could happen to a woman out there. That she'd had a husband wasn't something he'd ever considered.
"Paul and I made it as far as the outskirts of Langley when we got cornered by a small herd. Claire heard the shots and found us, saved us, but Paul was bitten..."
"We took off the leg." Claire said and Daryl suddenly remembered the women had been living in a butcher shop and he grimaced, thinking of Hershel and the sound of the hatchet as Rick tool off his leg.
"He lived, but we had to stay put while he healed." Felicia said. She looked lovingly at Claire and then over at Daryl, as if wondering if he'd understand what had happened next. "My husband and I loved each other, Daryl, very much, but as we all worked so hard to just stay alive, we also fell in love with Claire and she with us."
Daryl looked down at the ground and scratched the back of his neck again. He looked up at the women from under his long bangs and slowly nodded.
"So you was... all three...together...?" Daryl asked hesitatingly, trying to wrap his head around the full implications of that. Knowing Aaron and Eric had opened him up to the realization that love was just love; the couple's gender didn't matter much. As far as the sex part went, in his days running around with his brother he'd personally witnessed a man getting it on with two women and vice versa, but the idea that the three of them could all be in love with one another and not be jealous? He wasn't sure he was buying that.
"Does that bother you?" Claire asked, trying to read his expression.
"He dead?" Daryl asked the first question he could articulate. There had been no sign of a third person when Aaron and he had found them.
"Yes, about a month ago." Felicia said tearfully, and Claire put her arm around her shoulders comfortingly.
"Raiders came when we were sleeping—Paul was on watch, locked us in the fridge, fought them off, trying to save our supplies; kept them from finding us." Claire explained.
"Sounds like he was a good man." Daryl said with gentle sympathy, "I'm sorry you lost him."
"We still have part of him." Felicia smiled through her tears, putting both hands on her abdomen.
Daryl nodded. However unconventional their relationship had been, it was clear the child was a product of love, not pain, and for that he was glad.
"You're a good man too, Daryl." Felicia said, "You brought us here where there are walls, plenty of food, safe homes, medical care..."
"The occasional attack by an insane megalomaniac with delusions of godhood..."Claire said breezily, back to giving him crap.
"Never said it was perfect." Daryl shrugged, knowing this world was a paradise for men like the Lupus Dei and the Governor. There would always be another of their kind trying to take what they had here.
"Davidson's still our biggest problem, but whoever took out his men could be a threat as well." Claire returned more seriously. "Vigilantism can't have a place in a civilized community. I really would like to help track down the perpetrators if I can."
Daryl knew her offer was genuine, but the idea of letting someone else in on all of the past history of his group worried him. How could an outsider understand what had led up to their actions? What they'd lived through? Seen from an objective view, could the actions taken against the Termites at the church or what Carol had done at the prison—hell, even the kid that Carl had killed during the Governor's raid or the final confrontation between Rick and Shane—could any of that not be seen as pre-courser to the killings last night?
"I'll see what Rick thinks—he's in charge." Daryl finally said, his tone non-committal. He pushed off the tree, thinking he should get going, now with even more things to contemplate, but Felicia's hand on his forearm stopped him.
"Wait...I know you're really busy, Daryl." Felicia said, exchanging a look with Claire, who smiled and nodded back in agreement. "But we were hoping you and Carol could come for dinner some time."
Daryl grimaced involuntarily. He wasn't even sure where Carol would be when he got home tonight. She'd been pretty adamant about moving out last night before the fire and subsequent events. The last thing he wanted with Rick making noises like she was under suspicion was to make her think he didn't support her, but running away from her problems would only make them worse in the long run.
"Shit." Daryl muttered, leaning back against the tree and running his free hand through his hair, feeling overwhelmed. He was running on adrenaline and caffeine and anxiety.
"Daryl?" Felicia asked, concerned at the look of exhausted misery that now showed on his face after what she'd thought was a simple invitation.
"Why don't you come over and see our place now? You have time for a cup of coffee?" Claire asked, picking up her basket, coming closer and giving him a patient look, "Or maybe a beer?"
Daryl understood that this was an offer to listen, in a professional capacity if need be, to whatever was going on with him. He took a deep breath, intending to say no, but found himself nodding in agreement and following them out of the garden.
Four hours later, Aaron and Eric's porch
"I need you to do something for me." Daryl finally said, taking Carol's hand.
"What?" Carol asked, holding onto his hand like a lifeline, feeling pulled down by the undertow of emotions, afraid of hurting him, afraid of being hurt by whatever he was going to ask of her.
"I want you to come with me after dinner to talk to someone." Daryl said carefully.
"Who?" Carol asked, her back stiff, wondering if Rick had asked him to bring her in for questioning about the Wolves. She'd been expecting it; another reason she was so down tonight.
"You know how we been workin' the book?" Daryl asked, "That it said we should maybe talk to a therapist when we got to a certain point?"
"You mean Claire, Felicia's wife." Carol said, keeping her voice neutral. She didn't know them well, but Claire claimed to be a psychologist now, after the ruse of her being a doctor had been unveiled. Carol didn't think any worse of the woman; she'd done basically the same sort of thing, except she'd lied to make herself seem less competent.
"That sound like somethin' we could try?" Daryl asked, feeling like he was walking on egg shells, not knowing if he was pushing her too far.
Carol looked at his guardedly hopeful face. If he was willing to open up and talk to someone else about everything that he had been through in his life, all of that darkness, to try and heal, how could she do any less?
"I wish I had half your strength and courage." Carol said, pulling him close and holding on tightly as he put his arms around her.
"I just know I can do this better—love you better than this—if we can both get past this fear." Daryl murmured.
"Okay." Carol said, "I'll try."
Geographical Notes: Langley Air Force base is in McLean, VA, northwest of Washington, DC, only about 26 miles from Alexandria, VA, which is south of DC. The Joint base there shares space with other government agencies, including the CIA. And just FYI, Quantico, home of the FBI academy and lab facilities, the NCIS and a huge Marine base, is only 39 miles south of Alexandria, just off I-95, the route on Abe/Morgan's map from Atlanta. Eugene was right. They really should do some exploring in those places on the show!
AN: I rewrote this chapter three time to get the tone right. I kept feeling I was spending too much time on the OCs, (ship name Clairicia?) but I wanted Daryl to understand more of what kind of people they were before he'd agree to open up and trust them enough to bring Carol to see Claire. I also wanted to parallel Carol's friendship with Aaric.
Observant Daryl understands the possible instability of multiple members of his group and worries about what any deeper objective investigation into the Wolves killings could reveal. As Rick said to Gabriel, "We've all done something."
Thanks for reading! I appreciate every favorite, follow and especially those who have the time to review!