AN: So once again it's very late here, but I wanted to get a chapter out for this. This means I got a chapter out for three fics today. It's not the best I've ever done, but it's nothing to sneeze at. Tomorrow I've got a lot of stuff that's got to get done, so I'm not sure how much time I'll have for writing. If I get a chance, though, I'll try to get another chapter out for something.
I hope you enjoy! As always, I appreciate all of my readers! Let me know what you think!
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On Tuesday morning Carol woke up very early. She was supposed to watch Michonne's girls and she argued with Michonne for a substantial amount of time over the phone the night before. She wasn't going to have Michonne loading the girls in the car before they had to be awake, driving all the way over to pick her up, and then taking her back to her house to unload the babies before Michonne even had to be at work. That was just too much. Carol insisted on walking, and she had continued to insist on it until Michonne had finally given in.
Carol wasn't sure how long it would take her to get to Michonne's house by foot. She considered that it would probably quite a long walk, but she'd never actually checked to see how far away it was or how long it took her to walk anywhere. She wasn't even positive that she'd actually walked that far in one straight shot at any given time. She walked to Lula's Diner the morning before, but that was a short walk, nothing like the hike she was attempting this morning.
Carol dressed and put her sneakers on, sure that anything else would be entirely impractical. She picked up the phone and dialed Michonne's number. When Michonne answered, before the first ring had even completed itself, it was obvious that she was still asleep. Carol hated waking her up, but that had been one of Michonne's stipulations to her plan. She wanted to know what time she left so that she could try to calculate what time she should arrive. Carol had no idea how Michonne intended to that, since she had no idea herself when she'd arrive, but Michonne was a person who needed control and needed a lot of it, so Carol wasn't going to fight about whether or not she'd call her when she was about to start her journey.
After a brief conversation, Carol hung up the phone and left the apartment, locking the door behind her. She eased down the steps to the building, feeling her way more than anything. There was no light in the stairwell and it was still dark outside, so there was no light filtering in from there either.
As soon as she was on the street and headed in the direction of Michonne's house, Carol began to feel nervous. There wasn't anybody out and about at this hour and she felt very alone walking down the sidewalk. For a moment she cursed herself, and then she cursed Ed. Sweet Junction was her home. It had always been her home. Yet now she felt uneasy just walking down the sidewalk simply because it was dark. She'd never been afraid of the dark before, but now she was.
The fear of the dark was something that had surprised her. She'd never realized it was there until Saturday night when she'd settled into her apartment and locked the door behind Michonne, promising not to leave for any reason and to call if she needed anything at all. She'd been thrilled with her apartment at first that night. She'd walked around the entire thing, touching nearly everything, thankful that Michonne had insisted in purchasing a few small items to set around and decorate the place with so that it felt more like a home, more like her home. Then, however, it had gotten late and it had gotten quiet. The only sounds that Carol could hear that night were some strange stomping sounds coming presumably from the apartments above her, and the occasional voice or noise in the hallway outside the door.
And that was when she realized she was afraid of the dark. As she'd made her way from one room to the other, attempting to keep her mind entertained so that she wouldn't dwell on any unpleasant thoughts, she'd realized that she was afraid of going into any room if the light wasn't on first. She'd surprised herself, almost as if she didn't even know she was doing it, when she realized that she was snaking her hand around the bedroom wall and the bathroom wall each time she got ready to enter the room and searching for the switch to bathe the room in light before she passed into it. She wasn't exactly sure what she was afraid to find there, but she couldn't control the part of her that panicked now when faced by a dark room.
And now the whole town was dark, and it was eerie. Carol took a few deep breaths as she walked and tried to calm herself. She didn't want to be afraid. She especially didn't want to be afraid of things that she couldn't even identify. Before, when she'd been with Ed, she'd felt like she always knew what she was afraid of. She was afraid of hearing his car in the driveway. She was afraid of hearing him slam the front door because he only slammed it when he was drunk or when he was angry and neither scenario meant good things for her. She was afraid of him, and the smell of hard liquor on his breath, and the pain she knew was coming when he looked at her in certain ways. Those had been things that she had been afraid of, but she'd known what they were, and she'd known why they struck terror in her heart. Now, however, it seemed she was doomed to be afraid of the dark and she had no understanding of why.
Out here, at least, she could argue that she might be afraid that Ed was there, that he was hiding in the dark somewhere and watching her. Maybe he was plotting some revenge against her, and she was legitimately afraid of that. She was afraid that he would be furious when he received the divorce papers and that he might try to beat her, or even worse. That could explain her fear of Sweet Junction bathed in the dark, but it couldn't explain her fear of her own apartment. The door and windows were locked. No one passed in or out without her knowledge. There was no reason at all to believe that Ed was inside her apartment, that he might be lurking in the bathroom or in her bedroom waiting for her. There it was all her imagination.
As Carol continued walking she tried to think of any happy thought that she could to chase away the fear that was growing inside her without her permission. She thought about her apartment and the things that she might eventually purchase to make it even homier. She thought about the possibility of getting a pet, someone to keep her company in her little place and curl up with her at night. She thought about when she'd be able to take the next steps in her new life and she'd buy a little house to call her own and a car to drive so that she didn't have to walk everywhere and didn't have to feel guilty about inconveniencing others. But the thought of the car only led her thoughts in a loop right back to the fact that she was walking alone, and even though the sun was beginning to come up over the horizon and it was spilling some of it's light around her, it still wasn't as light out as she wanted it to be. She tried to speed her steps, sure that the faster she moved, the more likely she was to outrun her fear.
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Daryl was bitter this morning. He'd woken up expecting breakfast at the very least. Andrea had stayed the night again, though she and his brother both would protest if he were suggest that this was a regular thing. He was quite sure that even if she were to arrive at their house with a few cardboard boxes holding whatever she might own, they would both say that there was nothing going on between them besides the casual fuck. And maybe there wasn't, but he felt like casual fucking was leading to a lot of slumber parties, and for the life of him he couldn't remember his brother ever having had a woman spend the night before unless they'd both been so damn drunk that they'd passed out. And even then it had only been a night at the most, and there was no breakfast in the morning. That wasn't what Daryl was seeing here.
This morning, though, Andrea hadn't made breakfast. She'd come into the kitchen as Daryl was tying his shoes and she'd been already dressed, though she didn't exactly look as though she was awake for any stretch of the imagination. Merle had stumbled in after, dressed as well, except for the boots that he carried in his hand.
Merle needed a ride to work. The request hadn't exactly been formed in the way of a question. It was more a statement. It was something he expected Daryl to comply with despite the fact that Hershel Greene's farm was in the opposite direction of the housing development that Merle was now working in. Andrea's car, a puke green Pontiac that looked more like it belonged in a junkyard than anything else, had broken down on Friday. That's where they'd disappeared to all day Saturday. Merle, the self-taught mechanic that he was, had spent the day trying to get the damn thing running, but it had been to no avail. Andrea had taken him to work on Friday, and Monday Daryl didn't have to work so Merle had taken the truck, but today was a day when everyone had somewhere to be.
And so here they were, setting out earlier than Daryl had intended to leave, no one having eaten breakfast, and Daryl was playing chauffeur. They'd crammed into the cab of the rusty Ford. Daryl was supposed to take Merle to his job clear across town, and then he was supposed to drop Andrea off at her house, which apparently was on the opposite side of town and on his way toward the Greene farm. Daryl was hungry, he was crowded, and he was likely to be late for work.
They drove along in silence. Daryl assumed that either of his two riding buddies could very well be suffering from a hangover, or they were sleepy at the very least, and he didn't miss the conversation that they weren't having.
As they drove, though, Daryl spotted someone walking along the side of the road. Had they still been inside of town he might not have thought it very peculiar. He'd have probably thought it was someone heading to Lula's Diner to try to get one of the famous omelets before all the Early Bird Special customers got there and got the best seats. They were off the main road, though, and the person was almost running along the grassy side. As he got closer, his stomach clenched. It was Carol. For whatever reason he could recognize her stature easily, and her hair was a familiar and dead giveaway.
"What the hell's she doin'?" Daryl asked to no one in particular.
"Who?" Merle asked, his voice sounding groggy.
"Carol, why the hell is she runnin' down the road out here?" Daryl asked. He slowed the truck down and reached across Merle to try and crank the window down. Merle realized what he was doing and set to rolling the window down himself. Carol sped up as Daryl slowed the truck and he let his foot of the brake to roll forward a little to catch her. "Hey!" He called out the window. Carol looked over her shoulder for a moment, still maintaining her speed, but finally she slowed and then stopped. Daryl braked the truck right next to her. "What'cha doin' runnin' down tha road out here?" He asked. He realized it was none of his business, but he couldn't just leave her running down the road. What if she was running from something, or from someone?
"I'm not running," she protested, panting for air. "I'm walking, or I was."
Daryl almost laughed.
"Fastest damn walkin' I ever seen," he said. "Why the fuck ya walkin' down the road out here?"
"I've got somewhere to go," she said. "I've got a job. Is that OK with you?"
They weren't close to the apartments, and Daryl thought that if she'd maintained that speed for that distance, she was probably damn near exhausted. He didn't think he could run that far, not if nothing noteworthy wasn't chasing him.
"Lemme give ya a ride," he said. Both Merle and Andrea turned to look at him. He wasn't really sure why he'd offered to give the woman a ride, but it had sort of slipped out. If he was driving these two yahoos all over the place, he thought, he could be a few minutes late for dropping Carol off wherever it was that she was going. Hershel seemed to have a soft spot for her anyway, so he would likely forgive Daryl his tardiness if he explained the situation, and he'd gladly work a half hour overtime if he had to.
"I'm fine," Carol called back. She started to walk, this time at a normal pace. Daryl took his foot off the brake and let the old Ford creep forward a bit.
"We all got places ta go too," he yelled. "Get in tha truck an' we'll all get there a helluva lot faster than if we keep doin' it like this."
"Go on, then," Carol called back, not looking at him now. "I'm fine, I said. I can get there on my own."
Daryl lifted his foot again, lurching forward just a little.
"You're sure a hard headed bitch, ain't'cha?" Daryl called, chuckling a little at the stance she'd taken while walking. She turned and looked at him like she couldn't believe that he'd had the nerve to say it to her and he chuckled again at her face. "Come on, now, I ain't playin' no more. Get in tha truck or I'ma send Merle out ta get'cha," he called, softening his tone a little.
Carol stopped walking then and turned to face him.
"Looks like your pretty full, there," she said.
"Nah, there's always room," Daryl said. "You two scooch over," he commanded at Merle and Andrea. At first they both regarded him like he'd lost his mind, and maybe he had, but finally Merle shrugged and started to scooch. Andrea wriggled her way around until she was sitting in Merle's lap and Merle was as close to his brother as he could get without things getting really awkward inside the cab of the truck. "See? We got plenty a' room, so come on an' get in so we can all get where tha hell we headed."
Carol sighed, but she stepped toward the truck and pulled the door open. The ground off the road was lower than the level of the road and she struggled trying to pull herself in. Merle finally reached an arm out and caught her, pulling her into the cab. She pulled the door of the truck closed gingerly and it promptly popped back open, swinging out.
"Gotta close it like ya mean it, sugah," Merle said. "Ain't no delicate thing."
Carol nodded at him and slid to the edge of the seat, floundering for the door. Merle reached his arm out again and caught her by the back of the pants, holding to her as she swung out, fighting against stiff hinges of the door. Finally she pulled it back and slammed it shut with all her might. It stayed closed and Merle released his grip on her. She wriggled a moment in the seat, very likely from wedgie that Merle had offered her to start her day off right, and Daryl took his foot off the brake and steered the truck back onto the road.
"So where the hell ya goin'?" Daryl asked.
"Michonne Williams' house," Carol answered. Daryl looked around Andrea for a moment, but Carol wasn't looking at him.
"Ya gonna have ta tell me more than that if ya aim ta get there," Daryl said. Everyone else in Sweet Junction might know where this Michonne lived, but Daryl wouldn't have a clue even if it was a town monument.
"Just keep going on this road," Carol said.
Daryl grunted and continued on. Merle's destination was just ahead. He'd probably have gotten to work earlier if he'd taken off walking just when they'd stop to negotiate with their hard headed hitchhiker. Daryl pulled into the driveway of the house that Merle was working at, following his brother's instructions. Carol looked at him quizzically when he put the truck in park.
"Gotta make a delivery," Merle said. He stared at Carol and she stared back at him. Finally she realized that this meant that she needed to get out of the truck. She opened the door she'd fought so hard with earlier and dropped out of the cab. Andrea slid off Merle's lap and followed Carol out of the door. Finally Merle etched his way over to be freed from the very confined space that he'd been trapped in. "Got myself some fuckin' wood ta walk off 'fore work now, brothah, I hope ya happy," he growled in a whisper at Daryl just before he exited the cab. Daryl chuckled in response.
Daryl looked around at the few workers who were already milling around the job site. No doubt they were wondering about the clown car of individuals that had just pulled up. Merle waited while Andrea crawled back inside and Carol followed her. Then he closed the door with a slam, leaning against the still open window.
"Don't'cha worry 'bout me later," he said. "I reckon I can find someone 'round here that's willin' ta give me a ride."
Daryl nodded his understanding and backed the truck out of the driveway. The two women sat silently, side by side. Carol only spoke to direct Daryl in the direction of the place that she was going. When they got there, Daryl pulled into the driveway. A woman came out of the house as he was pulling up, wearing her pajamas and balancing a baby on her hip. On further inspection Daryl realized it was the lawyer woman. He waved at her from the cab of the truck as Carol wrestled the door open and slid out.
"Thanks," she said, slamming the door.
"No problem," Daryl said. "Next time don't take so damn long gettin' in."
Carol waved at him and walked toward the pajama clad, baby sporting, lawyer. Andrea slid over next to the door and Daryl backed the truck out, turning it in the opposite direction. He kind of wished that Andrea hadn't been in the truck. He felt like Carol might have talked more if Andrea hadn't been sandwiched in between them. Daryl thought about it and determined that he was going to try and fix that Pontiac when he got off work at Hershel's. Merle was a decent mechanic, that much was true, but Daryl knew that he was better than his brother at a lot of things, and if the bag of bolts could be saved, he was likely the man that would be able to save it.
As they drove along, having the longest part of their morning trek together, Daryl noticed that Andrea had turned her body in the seat to face him more than to face the road, and she was watching him.
"What tha hell ya lookin' at?" He growled. He lit a cigarette and let it hang just at the window in his side. Out the corner of his eye he could see the blonde smirking at him.
"You're sweet on Carol Ann," Andrea said.
"Fuck ya talkin' 'bout?" Daryl asked, annoyed already with her mouth. It was too damn early in the morning for a healthy dose of Andrea unless she was offering him a plate with bacon and eggs on it, and he hadn't seen not one bite of that this morning.
"You just had to give her a ride," Andrea said. "You're sweet on her, that's why."
"Ya don't know what'cha fuckin' talkin' 'bout," Daryl growled. "Just 'cause I give a woman a ride don't mean I'm sweet on her at all. I'm drivin' you right now, ain't I? And I can tell ya that I ain't tha least bit sweet on ya, I don't even like ya all that much."
Andrea chucked at him. She ran her hands through her hair and yawned before she returned to smirking.
"You've been stompin' and snortin' all morning since you heard you were gonna have to give me and Merle a ride, but as soon as we see Carol Ann goin' down the side of the road you turn into a white knight that's gotta pick her up or be damned trying," Andrea said.
"I ain't no fuckin' white knight, neither," Daryl said. "I couldn't just leave her ass runnin' down the side a' the road. Ya know her husband's crazy as fuck. What if he'd a' seen her out there just trottin' along? Don't tell me ya wouldn'ta done the same damn thing."
"Mmmm, I probably would have picked her up," Andrea said, "but I've known Carol Ann most of my life. We woulda picked her up for different reasons, you and me."
Daryl didn't want to talk about this anymore. He wasn't sweet on Carol. He'd never been sweet on anyone. It was one of the things about him that had always driven Merle nuts. Merle was always trying to find some woman to share his bed, even if he only wanted her for a night. Daryl hadn't ever wanted any of the women that they'd run into, no matter how hard Merle had tried to get him to take one of them home. Daryl had long ago become convinced that he just wasn't made from the same stuff that his brother was made for. He didn't even know how to be sweet on a woman.
"Shut yer mouth," Daryl said finally. He saw Andrea smirk again and he took the final drag on his cigarette, tossing the spent butt out the window.
"Fine," Andrea said, "but I just thought you should know, since I figured you might not have figured it out yet."
"An' ya done figured out ya was shackin' up with Merle?" Daryl asked, frustrated. Andrea chuckled.
"Me and Merle ain't nothing serious," Andrea said. "I like Merle. He entertains me. In return, I entertain Merle. That's all there is to it. I can move on whenever I want to."
"That's what a lotta addicts say too," Daryl said.
"You're probably right," Andrea said. "Your brother's good at what he does, since you brought it up, but I'd hardly say he was addicting. Besides, I've never had much of an addictive personality."
Daryl continued on without speaking and Andrea responded in the like. When he finally reached the rundown house she shared with another woman that Daryl had heard her speak of, but had never met, he turned into the driveway.
"Ya need ta cut ya damn grass," he growled. "Ya could lose a person out here."
"Can't," Andrea said. "Don't got a lawnmower. We just let it grow until it pisses the old woman two doors down bad enough and she nags her husband to come down here and cut it. Sometimes it gets damn near like a forest, but in the end we always win."
Andrea heaved the door of the Ford open and wriggled out. She slammed the door and Daryl called to get her attention as she started to walk off. She turned and walked back, standing just beside the door.
"I'ma come by when I get done at the Greene farm," Daryl said. "I'll see what I can do ta get ya damn car runnin'."
Andrea smiled.
"I'd appreciate that," she said. "I'll see about having you something to eat when you get here. Any requests?"
"Don't care," Daryl said, "long as it ain't got no onions in it."
Andrea smiled again.
"No onions, coming up," she said. She walked backward toward the house for a minute, banging her hand on the hood of the truck before she finally turned and trotted toward the entrance.
Daryl sighed and pulled out again heading for the farm and already practicing how he was going to explain to Hershel why he was late. He didn't want to explain to him everything that had happened, so he figured at best he might just stick to telling Hershel that he'd offered ,Carol a ride so she wouldn't have to walk what he figured to be easily seven or eight miles.
He tried to put Andrea out of his thoughts and to ignore completely her accusations that he had any feelings for Carol that went beyond those that he would feel for anyone that he saw trekking down the side of the road at a solid jog. He liked her because he thought she was a nice woman, and she had a nice smile, but he wasn't sweet on her. Even if he knew what it meant to be sweet on a woman, she was a married woman, and he was sure he wasn't sweet on a married woman.