AN: Firstly I want to say how enormously grateful I am to the response to the first chapter. I realise it was a little dark, a little unusual, and this chapter is a tad lighter. Don't settle in too hard, though, I don't intend for it to stay that way.
I also want to make mention of another fic I've been reading on the site called The Man I Am by Tahllydarling. So far, other than one other review, I am the only person who has reviewed it. This is a good fic…please go and give it a chance and reward people that can actually write well and in a compelling manner? It can be so disheartening to get such a lack of response and I'd for her to think her writing is bad.
Now, on with the show….and, well, if you feel so inclined, I kind of like reviews too. I definitely love hearing what you think and to know someone is making the effort to read and think about it.
Chapter Two
Carol couldn't even look at Rick as he left the tower to open the gate for them. Her eyes were locked on Daryl's jaw so she saw the tip of his head in acknowledgement of their leader, then his thumb as it strayed too close to his teeth and he started chewing at the jagged skin that never, ever seemed smooth. She was still shaking as she lifted her hand and tried to swat his hand out of his mouth.
"Don't do that," she told him, her voice wavering and weak. "You'll make it bleed."
"Hey, you got your nervous habits and I got mine. Did ya hear me tell you to stop havin' a panic attack?" He grinned at her and Carol was grateful that it was close to a full moon so she could see his face and the many emotions he'd flit through until he found a safe one he was happy enough for her to see.
She tried to smile, but now that they were travelling slowly over the bumpy dirt drive out of the prison, new tears stung at her eyes.
"No," she conceded, feeling more miserable than when she'd first flung herself out of the cell block. "You saved me again, as usual."
He flicked a wary glance her way and Carol bunched up against her door, wishing she could make herself say they should go back instead of leading him out of safety for something so foolish as her being unable to go back inside.
"Wouldn't you do the same for me?"
That made her sit up straight. There was no question she'd lay down her life for his, if that's what it took. She couldn't say that with equal certainty regarding any other member of their group, as much as she loved them all, but she could for him. Telling him, though, might be too much touchy feely than she guessed Daryl could handle, and after months of making it plain to him she found him attractive with all her suggestive teasing, she wasn't willing to put her heart any more on the line and have it smashed to pieces. She'd be more humiliated by him knowing how she truly felt about him than she was letting him see her completely meltdown over a stupid dream about Ed, of all people.
The quiet was stretching toward discomfort and Carol could feel the car slowing, Daryl's incredulous gaze swivelling toward her. He needed an answer and the words were all fumbling around in her head. "You never need saving, so it's not an issue."
"That's bullshit." A harsh breath was expelled from his lungs and then a humourless bark of laughter hung in the air like stale smoke, leaving Carol with a sense that she'd somehow deeply hurt his feelings. "You think I wanted to come back after I found Merle? After I had to kill my own brother?"
Remembering that night was painful—as much for her as she thought it absolutely was for Daryl. It hadn't been at all hard to hold him all night while his heart broke and then scrambled to put itself back together again before continuing their fight with the Governor. Seeing his pain and not being able to control how much of it ate her up inside, that was where the difficulty lay. That was where she was torn open and vulnerable, and yet she'd dealt with it as Daryl clung to her body through the night, his wet face pressed into her throat as she rocked him and held him toward sleep. She'd have been more broken if he'd sought comfort from anyone else but her.
"I…I just thought—"
"Forget it. It don't matter none." He was angry. It was unmistakable now and Carol didn't have the first clue how to diffuse the situation. He couldn't stay mad or their danger would escalate while they were out here, driving around aimlessly in the dark, the car's headlights possibly attracting who knew which threat to them first.
"Yes." The single word squeezed past numb lips, her heart in her throat. "If you need saving, I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you're safe." The confession tumbled from a throat that felt like it had been slashed raw, emotion clogging it closed now so she couldn't speak even if she wanted to. Unsteady, confused oceanic blue eyes trailed to his face, watched as incredibly he blinked rapidly and swallowed hard, but the hurt was vanquished enough to leave him with that small, barely there smirk she recognised and adored.
"Good."
The confessions were hard for him, too.
They drove for two hours and the whole time Carol felt dread buzz away within. Guilt ate her up. The fuel. They were wasting so much of it simply because she needed to get away from the Woodbury people, from the people she'd spent the last year surviving with, from the ghosts that haunted her home. Merle hid in there now, alongside Lori and T-Dog, and she felt just as guilty and sorry for his loss as she did for the others. She'd goaded him that last day. Made him choose and probably ended up pushing him away even more. Questioned the extent of his loyalty to his brother when he couldn't commit to the same people that Daryl had. Merle was there for Daryl, and Daryl was there for them. What she hadn't said and she should have, regretted now with a billowing ache in her soul, was that Daryl was there for Merle, too, and that Merle's life mattered to them now, because he mattered to Daryl. God, she'd screwed it all up so spectacularly, and she'd caused such an awful loss to the one man she'd do anything for. Hindsight was always cruel, and she was getting sick to death of all the loss their decisions cost them. When were they going to start making the ones that meant they stopped losing the people they loved?
When did existing alongside a group of people that were once strangers not that long ago become the people that meant the most? Did she really love them or was it just the natural result of being stuck with people you'd never have chosen under normal circumstances.
Carol's gaze rolled over Daryl's profile, watching the moonlight reflect off his cheekbones, and wondered while her heart fluttered a strange, syncopated beat. Would she have loved him if she'd met him before all of this? If she'd stumbled upon him in any other circumstance than braving the end of the world, if Sophia had never been lost, would he have made her feel like she was the most important person in the world? Would he have ever let himself be her friend if Merle still lived? Or was it all just a cruel joke that the world played on them now, leaving them cramped with groups of people they'd never have associated with in another lifetime?
It didn't matter. Whether her emotions and feelings had been manipulated by the existence of walkers, it meant nothing. It was what it was, and Daryl was there, beside her and taking her away from the place and people that were causing her anxiety. He was giving her the chance to breathe and that made him more special to her than anything else she had left. That made him the most real person she knew.
"Where are we going?"
"Nowhere special. Just drivin'."
Oh.
It suddenly hurt to breathe for a whole different reason. How selfless his decisions were. It took everything she had to accept he'd do this for a friend when she'd long wished for so much more. In another man, such a devotion to giving her what she needed would have reeked of love, but for Daryl it meant a depth of friendship she believed he'd been previously unfamiliar with. It made her heart ache for the pure beauty of its meaning, and so she let go of those wishes for more and allowed herself to relish this as being the precious thing it was.
"Aren't you tired? You want to find a place to sleep or just drive around all night?" She was worried about him not resting. None of them had had much sleep lately, and now with new people crowded into their space, it stupidly seemed harder than ever. Carol found the possibility of a stranger watching her sleep infinitely confronting, wishing not for the first time for a proper room with a solid door and a lock so she could shut the rest of the world out when she needed to. She had a whole new respect for prisoners. It was a cruel punishment that their every move was so easily viewable—even though she knew the necessity in their case, it was hard to think anyone could ever grow accustomed enough to be fine with it. And if she wasn't, she didn't mistakenly think Daryl was either.
"Yeah, we should rest somewhere. What do you want to do tomorrow?"
What did she want to do? Like they were out sightseeing, vacationing like a real couple. Carol's heart started racing without her permission.
"Can we go shopping? I'm in dire need of a new dress and matching shoes."
Daryl snorted before side-eyeing her. "You got somewhere classy you need to be I don' know about?"
"Obviously you've fallen out of the loop, Dixon. We're hosting a wedding soon enough. I want to wear a dress I can swirl in."
She could see his eyes widen at that as he darted another look her way. She wondered why when they could barely see each other in the dark. "Why would you be wantin' to swirl?"
"Dancing, Daryl. One must dance at a wedding. God, I miss dancing. Haven't done that in a really long time."
"Yeah? I ain't never done that. Might need lessons."
Carol had the distinct impression that he might be blushing, her guess taking root as he nervously started chewing at the ragged skin around his thumb again.
"I can do that," Carol offered quietly, wanting to kick herself for being completely unable to hide the husky strain of longing from her voice.
"I'll warn you now, I've likely got two left feet."
Carol wasn't able to hold back her laughter. "Oh, please. You're more graceful than those deer you hunt."
"Good Lord, the things you say, woman. I don't know if I should be offended or—"
"It was a compliment, Daryl. I'm not the only woman who notices how good you look when you move."
That confession might have been a bit much but fortunately Daryl responded by intently watched the road, diligently ignoring the implications of what she'd said, his gaze darting around searching for movement as they came to a short street sparsely lined with buildings. He travelled the length of it before pulling off the road and driving up behind what looked like a feed store. He parked and turned off the engine and lights, telling her to stay put while he took up his crossbow and flashlight. Feeling sick still about what she'd just revealed, Carol nodded and then didn't move a muscle, keeping her expression as neutral as she could even though her heart was thudding expectantly.
The silence was deafening. The potential for noise just barely sat there, slightly out of reach, and Carol wrapped her arms around herself and waited, said silent prayers that Daryl would be fine, that her foolish needs hadn't left him outside stranded in the dark amongst a group of walkers.
When her door was yanked wide open, she almost shrieked. Daryl shone the flashlight inside the car and then held it under his chin, Blair Witch-style, rolling his eyes at her and she realised he'd kept it off as he'd returned to the car and was enjoying the fright he'd given her.
"You ass," she hissed as she took a not-so-gentle swipe at his chest, twisting in her seat about to get out.
"Yeah, but you love me anyway."
Carol remained silent, shock stealing her words, obliterating her senses.
"Think we can bunk down inside that store for now. Don't see nothin' about so we should be safe so long as we keep quiet."
She could keep quiet. She could keep very quiet. In fact, Carol wasn't so sure she should open her mouth ever again because every time either one of them said something, her hopes grew. Hope was a dangerous commodity these days, and she hadn't been lying about seeing the new Woodbury women making eyes at him. She had to remind herself that he'd left the confines of the prison for her, gone against Rick's natural wishes and concerns for their safety for her, and as hard as it was to believe he felt more for her than friendship, she had no doubt in her heart at all that he'd not do the same for any other member of the group.
While she stood unsteadily waiting for him, he gathered supplies from the car—blankets that were always left there in case they ever got stranded, bottles of water and his pack that he'd brought from the prison. He handed her the blankets and led the way to the door of the supply shed in the back, his crossbow held aloft, ready in case a surprise stumbled out moaning and hungry for them. He'd already broken into the shed, doing a second search to double-check they were alone before he closed it and barred it with a few sacks of grain, Carol holding the torch so he could see what he was doing. There was a big window next to the door and she kept an eye to the outside, trying to detect any suspicious shadows. There was nothing. For all she knew they could be the only two people in the world, definitely the only two people in this tiny town, in this storage shed.
"Hey, best turn that off now so no one can see the light from outside."
Of course. She clicked the torch off and reached for Daryl in the dark, snagging his jacket sleeve, her hand boldly sweeping down to capture his hand so she could place the torch there for him to put in his pack.
"I can keep watch if you want to get some rest," Carol said, gasping when Daryl took a step closer to her, seized her hand back in his grip and tripped his way to a space on the floor he'd found clear earlier.
"Long as we stay quiet and don't go flashing lights around, we should be fine. Come on, spread those blankets out."
Carol shook one out on the floor for them to lie on, not wanting to risk sleeping on whatever littered the surface beneath their feet, and then plopped down beside Daryl, giving the other blanket a quick flick to open it up to cover them. She remained sitting, nervous about being so close to him in the dark. Everything seemed so much more electric when she couldn't see, so much more real, so much more potential. Possible.
Her pulse jumped as she heard him detach his knife and let it tumble to the floor beside his crossbow and pack. She heard him recline to his back, sucked in a startled breath when his hand closed around hers, prying her death grip from the edge of the blanket, then curling his warm palm around her waist and tugging her down to lay beside him. She landed on his arm and went perfectly still, leaving Daryl to place the blanket around the pair of them. He did nothing to remove his arm from around her shoulders, instead tightening it around her and pulling her inward, flush against the hard length of his body. The leather of his vest cooled her suddenly hot cheek and before she knew what she was doing, her fingers curled into the other side of it, grasping it so tight she didn't think she'd ever let him go.
"You scared me tonight. Ain't never seen you like that before." His breath tussled her hair and Carol sighed, sinking further into him and grasping at everything he was willing to give her, registering his concern and belatedly wishing she hadn't worried him as much as she had.
"Haven't had a panic attack for a while," she confided, remembering the last one when Ed had been pounding on her and then had made a move to find Sophia. She'd lost control of herself then, had thrown herself in front of him, striking him with her weak little fist, then tried not to die as he really laid into her. "Kind of funny that they're caused by extreme stress and it took an overcrowded prison instead of herds of walkers to make me lose it."
"Yeah, well, told you it was a tomb."
"An' I told you it's our home. I meant it, you know. We're safe there—"
"Which is why you were nearly pissin' yourself to get out of there," he scoffed. "An' why you were in such a hurry to get out here."
She sighed. How could she explain this crunching, grinding dread that overwhelmed her head, telling her she had to get out—that there was something she had to find out beyond those prison gates? Something she had to do?
"I can't explain why." The words came out brittle, mumbled into his chest yet so clear he didn't have to bend closer to hear them. He bent closer anyway. Carol had never been physically closer to him than she was now, not even when they'd rode away from the farm together on his bike. Not even when he'd carried her out of that cold, dark place where she thought she was going to die. Without realising it her leg had somehow tangled around his as she clung to him. He turned on his side, facing her, his other hand splayed across her hip. Her lids fell closed as her senses were overwhelmed, her lips parting slightly to be moistened nervously with her tongue, only to be dried by his breath so close to her face.
"I feel like we're waitin' for something," she admitted breathlessly, heat and want bursting to life deep in her belly.
"Well it ain't gonna be a party dress and stilettos." In the dark his nose brushed against hers and Carol gasped, so hungry for more, for the taste of his mouth on hers but too afraid to take that final step. Her fingers dug through his vest into his back, fear flagging her every impulse to run when her heart just wanted desperately for her to fall that final distance.
In the charged quiet between them, she realised Daryl's breathing had slowed and evened out and she grinned. Here she was, burning up with need to touch him, and he was so resistant to her goodies that he was falling asleep.
"Go'sleep, woman. Can hear you thinkin' all the way over here." His nose bumped against hers again and Carol sucked in a painful breath. What if…
"There's barely a hair's breadth between us." She wiggled forward a fraction, but the almost torturously hesitant peck she worked herself up to, finally fell on relaxed, unresisting, unresponsive lips. She was too late. Daryl was asleep.