AN: Wow! I am so humbled by your response to this little fic. I know people loved the little easy conversation they were developing and I hope that continues in places. This chapter is Daryl, so maybe that's why it isn't so easy, LOL. Anyway, would LOVE to know if you are still enjoying, or want more, and even welcome suggestions ;) Happy reading! Now I'm going to have some lunch. One more day till school holidays!
Chapter Three
He awoke with Carol curled fully into his body, her head burrowed into his chest, her leg wedged between his and her hand tucked into the waist of his pants—underneath his shirt. Her fingers seared his flesh and sent blood rushing to his dick. If she flexed her fingers she just might reach the tip of it. It was a fight not to move—he wanted to move. Not to get up and run away from her, but to shuffle closer and take things to a new place.
He wasn't sure when things had switched on in his head. When that moment finally occurred when he knew he and Carol were something beyond whatever he was with Glenn, or Rick or Maggie. He wanted to do more than just talk to her—he wanted to take her pain and banish it, he wanted to make her smile and laugh, and he wanted to show her that he cherished every selfless moment where she put him ahead of everyone in their group, including herself. He wanted to taste her and know if she was as sweet as he suspected. He wanted to bury himself in her heat and he wanted to reply to just one of her embarrassing jokes with confidence and assurance. He wanted her and he was tired of waiting for something to happen. Tired of waiting to discover enough courage to kick him in the ass and force his hand.
He'd sensed, when he'd found her struggling to breathe outside their cell block, that she was feeling the same noose strangling the life out of her that he did, only he'd so far managed to put a braver face to it. He hadn't wanted Rick to bring all the remnants of Woodbury home with them—didn't know why they couldn't have just left Tyreese and Karen to look after them and form their own new community without their former nutjob leader there to taint their progress. So many extra bodies were a strain on their resources, a strain on their emotions, and it meant that there was just about nowhere left in the place where a body could escape for a bit of peace and quiet. It wasn't hard to decide not to argue when Carol said she needed to get out, needed to leave. The call of the world beyond the prison fences was a strong one, and Daryl couldn't deny that the opportunity for them to be out on the road together, even if just for a couple of days, held its own appeal. Offered him a chance to make things right between them without the group staring at his every move. Without judgement and unwanted advice being shunted at him from all directions.
Without those other women who'd apparently noticed how good he looked when he moved, watching and waiting to see who he'd choose. As far as he was concerned, he'd chosen long ago, she just didn't know it yet.
He grinned a little at that. He knew she hadn't meant to reveal that she watched him so closely, but knowing that she did made him blush. It had been a very long time since he'd wondered what a woman thought of him—probably not since high school if he was honest. Women had been a mystery that he'd been uninterested in unravelling, learning far more than he cared to just from observing Merle whenever he was around, and when he wasn't, well, he still had his daddy to deal with. Unlike Merle, he'd never managed to escape the bastard, still living and hunting with the man that had cheated him of a normal life until the walkers had risen up and taken a well-deserved bite out of him.
Now, he was wondering what it was about him that Carol watched. What it was about him that drew her to him. He was nothing special, had little to offer, but he wasn't such a fool to turn her away if she wanted him—not when he wanted her so fiercely he thought he could shatter from the waiting.
It was a mystery to him what she saw in him, but not one for what he saw in her. No one had ever fought for him before, and she seemed to be constantly in battle in an effort to defend him, protect him, shelter him, teach him. Love him. It had all finally come together to complete the circle in his mind and he felt like there was no more waiting left in him. No more reason to keep his distance. It was time to man up. He could never be what she deserved, but at least he could be a step up from Ed Peletier, and he could protect her and hopefully make her happy. For whatever time they had left.
It took a Herculean force of will to shift her off his body and when her fingers got twisted in his waistband before he managed to slide them out, his own face contorted in excruciating pain. God, he wanted her. Wanted to know what her hand would feel like gripping him. Wanted to know if the wet, raspy surface of her tongue would tip him over the edge. The thought alone had him close enough.
He paused as he rolled, his face so close to hers, his lips barely a breath away from her mouth. He couldn't risk her waking up in the middle of a kiss, though. That would be humiliating beyond reason. If he was going to get his shit together and do this, he was going to do it right. Maybe after they'd found that dress and shoes she was so interested in getting for the wedding.
Night had lifted enough now that he could make out more shapes in the shed around him. No matter where they were, they always sought out weapons. There had to be some knives in there, something used for cutting open the sacks of meal. As the space lightened up even more he found several, and even a small machete. He collected them together and left them near his pack, gathering up his crossbow to take a quick look outside. First, he bent down and hesitantly curled his hand around Carol's shoulder, shaking her gently.
Still half asleep, she moaned happily, a sweet smile curving her lips as her hand reached up to link her fingers with his. She kissed his knuckles and he sucked in a surprised breath. Maybe he shouldn't have been so hasty to get moving.
"'Mornin', Daryl."
He dropped to his knees beside her as she rolled onto her back, blinking up at him as he continued to hold her hand.
"'Mornin', sleepyhead." He cracked a grin, encouraged by how easy it was to be with her, how easy it was to feel her hand entwined with his. He tugged on it, making her sit up. "I'm gonna go take a look around outside, see if there's anything worth taking before we move on."
Carol nodded, then slowly untangled their fingers and stretched both arms up over her head, knees drawn up to her chest and arching backwards. She reminded him of a cat, all sleek lines and lazy grace and he wanted to bury his face in her neck and nuzzle her flesh with his teeth. He stood up fast and turned away, a flush working its way to an inferno beneath the skin.
"Be right back." Making quick work of the sacks propped against their exit, he slipped out into the early morning and sucked in several deep breaths, fresh, biting air filling his lungs. He smiled. It felt good to wake up beside her, sharing his first words of the day with someone who cared that he was around. Sure, the whole group valued him, cared about him, but when Carol looked at him he could tell there was something different. Something deeper that she felt that the others didn't. It warmed him from the inside out and he was going to do something about it so she knew he felt it, too.
He hadn't seen much the night before when he'd pulled into this place. Standing along the main road now he was surprised he'd seen enough to even stop. There were maybe five buildings scattered along the road before it continued on to better things. The supply store and storage shed behind it where they'd slept, what looked like a school house, a doctor's surgery—old-fashioned-like with the doctor's name carved onto a wooden shingle that hung along a dainty picket fence, a gardening supplies store, and a bar. A bar in the middle of nowhere. Daryl chuckled at how typical that was. Before he'd even crossed to it he could see there was no point going inside. The place was thoroughly looted while the doctor's house seemed untouched. Good to see assholes around had the right priorities. Daryl shook his head before heading straight to the house, cringing as the front gate squeaked open. Two elderly walkers turned to greet him the second he broke through the front door and then he knew no one else had been there. He took them out cleanly, one with an arrow to the brain and the other felt the slide of his blade as it sank through a soft eye socket. They thumped to the floor and he quickly stepped over them, careful to watch they didn't reanimate and start snapping at his heels. It wasn't like Rick was there to hack off his foot if he needed him to. The very thought of being restricted to crutches to get around made him shudder. They'd be damned if he was hamstringed like that. He'd be useless, not able to hunt, to fight.
He went to the kitchen first, found a box of granola bars unopened at the very top of an empty pantry. He needed a chair to reach it, explaining why the old couple had managed to polish off everything else they'd stashed away and leaving this and a forgotten mousetrap with a handful of other useless pieces of crap so high up they couldn't reach. Seemed a strange thing to make it up to that shelf, considering the other things. He took the pack of matches and a bottle of kerosene and as he rooted around the cupboards and drawers he found a squeeze ketchup bottle that might be useful as well as more knives. Never knew when a good Wiltshire would come in handy. He raided the bathroom, grinning in delight at the stock of toothbrushes the old couple had hoarded, though he left their denture paste where it sat with a grimace. He barely glanced in the bedroom, only thinking once he'd found the doctor's office that maybe the old man had clothes Hershel would love, shrugging and forgetting about it as soon as he found the cupboard sorted with samples, testing kits, bandages and a bag that contained all standard doctor implements—a stethoscope, the little light thing for checking pupils…more shit that Daryl had no clue what they did but figured Hershel probably would.
He'd barely finished packing everything into a medium-sized bag he'd found in the cupboard when he heard the unmistakable rumble of a truck's engine as it rolled slowly down the street. With a hunter's grace, he sidled up to the window and peered through the sliver of a gap. His stomach dropped like a rock and his blood ran cold. He knew the driver. Martinez pressed his foot on the gas and the truck jolted forward, but not far enough, stopping just short of the end of the road before it continued on toward an uncertain destination.
Daryl swore under his breath as three men exited the truck. That black prick who had tried to take his crossbow back at Woodbury, cocky, overconfident Martinez and the fucker of all fuckers, the Governor himself. Daryl narrowed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to leave his hiding spot and beat the shit out of his brother's murderer. It's what Merle would do, damn the consequences. It was remembering those consequences that held Daryl back now, forcing him to think.
He was stuck on the wrong side of the road. Carol was back with their car at the supply shed, probably unaware of their sudden danger, and while the Governor and his men were at the very end of the street walking their way back, Daryl had already done the math. There were only five buildings for them to investigate, three if they skipped the bar like he had and the doctor's where he now stood. They'd find her in minutes—and then his imagination went into meltdown. He had to force himself not to picture her dying as that monster shot her like he had Merle, leaving Daryl to put her down like he'd been forced to before. Fought himself to not imagine the filthy pricks laying their hands on her, or worse.
Lifting the bag, he ran for the back door, thanking God for small mercies when it cracked open noiselessly. He clung to the side of the house, his crossbow shouldered while he flicked the safety off his revolver.
There was no way he could get across the road and back to Carol without them seeing him. Adrenaline spiked and pumped through his body and a sudden sweat settled against his skin. He hadn't known this level of fear since he'd been pitched against Merle in a battle to the death in Woodbury's arena. This time he feared for Carol, and while he watched Martinez stand in the middle of the street, his high-powered rifle slung casually across his shoulder and his preferred baseball bat making graceful arcs in the air, he felt like kicking his own ass for not taking the risk and kissing her when he'd had the chance.
He rocked on his feet, panicked gaze darting back and forth trying to find some avenue of escape. He could hear their voices as they stood out in front of the bar, talking out a plan for checking the rest of the place. Leaving was now urgent and Daryl scowled, coming up empty on ideas. They were too far away for him to take aim, though the idea of shooting the Governor right in his other eye was a pleasure Daryl thought might do him for life.
He was sure they were going to pass right by the bar, seeing it as a waste of time like he had, but the dumb bastards kicked the door in anyway, their leader sauntering his way in like the arrogant asshole he was, and Daryl almost laughed when he came backing out fast and a swarm of at least fifteen walkers stumbled out the doors after him. The chaos allowed him to slip across the road and he wasted no time getting behind the supply store to the shed around the back. Carol was packed, throwing the blankets and his pack in the back from the front seat when he sprinted to the car and jumped in.
"Put the belt on," he hissed at her, frantically starting the car and flooring the accelerator as she clicked it into place. Her saw her hands were white as she readied the gun he handed to her and a white hot rage tore through him. She couldn't start shooting—she'd be hit for sure. He wasn't losing her now. "New plan," he decided as the car jumped from the grass onto tarmac, wide, furious eyes watching him as the car barrelled to an escape through the walkers still fighting the Governor and his men. Daryl counted two walkers left and knew they'd be in their truck and after them straight away. "Get on the floor."
Carol stared at him, not understanding and he almost shoved her there himself when the first gunshot blew out the back window.
"Get the fuck on the floor now," he growled, then concentrated on their escape as best he could.
He was going too fast, watching trees whizz by at a blur but even as he slumped down in his seat, he could hear the truck behind him, not gaining but then the bullets that rained down on them made that not so important. Soon they'd blow out the tires or the fuel tank and they'd either go up in a ball of flames or crash, leaving them both dead or incapacitated. Right, accelerate it was. He pushed the car to its limit, a quick glance in the rear-view showing they were making some headway, but if they had any chance at all he had to get them off the road. They had to get into the woods.
It took too long for them to drive enough ahead that the bullets no longer hit the flimsy metal of the car, and he knew it wasn't going to be long enough to pull off and hide before their enemy blew through. He was going so fast he could barely see the options, but when he saw a driveway into a motel, he swung a hard right and cursed at the spray of gravel that might be indicative to their pursuers.
"Get the pack. Hurry." He slammed on the brakes and the car skidded violently, mounting the cement slab outside one of the motel rooms.
Carol was up and out the door, grabbing up his pack and the blankets and trying to stuff some bottles of water in there before he grabbed her arm and the doctor's bag, crossbow slung over his shoulder, and dragged her around the side of the building. He just hoped they'd not see the gravel torn up at the entrance or the discarded car in the parking lot, though he figured it would be hard to miss once they drove in and saw it mounted like it was and almost ploughing into the room. They just needed time, just minutes to disappear before the Governor's truck circled back to discover their car and come in after them.
He didn't have time to try and camouflage their escape. The only thing he was confident about was the woods, so with a last, longing look at the vehicle, he grabbed Carol's hand and led her between the trees.