AN: I have to say thank you again to everyone.
I'm really surprised by this story. I was nervous about writing it because it's AU, and I just didn't know if anyone would be interested in something completely AU like this. It's very encouraging to see that you all seem to really like it!
So here we go. This might be my last update for a bit while I turn some attention to my other neglected stories, but I'll be back, no worries!
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When Daryl rolled over, stretching his back a little, it took him a second to remember exactly where he was and what was going on. He rolled to the side and opened his eyes to see Carol staring back at him, lying on her side with her head resting on her hand, her elbow holding her up.
She smiled at him.
"Morning, sleepy head," she said.
Daryl didn't feel like he'd slept too long. It seemed dark in the apartment still. He moaned a little, still coming to.
"Mornin'," he said, smiling. "What time is it?" He had to go to work, and as much as he hated leaving where he was right now, he didn't want to be too late and possibly irritate Hershel.
"It's OK," Carol said softly. "It's still early. You've got time."
Daryl became aware, then, that they weren't alone. He looked down at the mattress and the damn little puppy was curled up, sleeping, right against Carol. She smiled at him, rubbing her finger over the puppy's back.
"What's the damn dog doin' in the bed?" Daryl asked.
Carol narrowed her eyes at him.
"Shhh…don't say that," she said. "He was sad. It was his first night away from his mommy and his brothers and sisters. He was crying and needed to sleep here."
Daryl eyed the dog and sighed. The furry little bastard was sleeping peacefully, not even aware that he was right in the middle of them and definitely blocking any hope of morning sex. Still, he figured he'd give the fur ball a break. It had gotten him back here, and that was something he'd been failing at up to now.
"Fine," Daryl said, "how long have you had him up here?"
Carol smiled at him and turned her attention back to gently rubbing the puppy.
"A little while," she said. "I couldn't sleep and he started crying, so I took him out and then I brought him in here with me."
"Ya went outside in the dark?" Daryl asked.
Carol nodded.
"I didn't go far. Just to the grass," she said.
Daryl assumed there wasn't much to worry about. Ed was in prison at county, wherever the hell that was. Michonne spoke about it often, but he'd started to think of it like Oz.
"What do you think…" Carol said, "about the name Lincoln?"
Daryl didn't care. He honestly didn't care one damn bit what she wanted to name the dog. She seemed to care, though, and she seemed to care that he cared about it. He moaned a little.
"Ya like it?" He asked.
She nodded, smiling at him again.
"Then it's fuckin' perfect," Daryl said.
Carol giggled.
"Do you want breakfast?" She asked. "I know Michonne bought stuff for pancakes. I don't know if I have link sausages, but I can check."
Daryl smiled at her, still trying to wake up entirely. He chuckled a little. He couldn't believe that she still remembered them talking about pancakes and link sausage even though she'd been in some kind of medicine cloud.
"Yeah," he said. "Breakfast is good."
"Yeah?" She asked. She leaned over, kissing him and he moaned into her mouth wishing that they were going somewhere else with this but knowing that she was about to get up and make breakfast and then he was going to Hershel's farm.
Carol pulled away, then, and got out of bed. Daryl was surprised when she slid the puppy, Lincoln they were apparently going to call him, against him and the dog whined a little and settled back down with a sigh.
"I'm going to start breakfast, you stay here and cuddle until it's ready," Carol said.
Daryl watched as Carol dressed in pajamas and he settled into the realization that he was expected to lie here and cuddle with the puppy. Carol left the room and Daryl listened as she wrestled around in the kitchen, the clinking of pots and pans going on.
"I've got bacon, but not sausage," Carol called. "Is bacon OK or do you want me to see if Andrea has any sausage?"
"Bacon's fine," Daryl responded.
Daryl lie there for a few minutes with Lincoln next to him. He wasn't sure about this. How was it that the little dog had weaseled its way into the bed? And how was it that he was supposed to be cuddling with it right now? He sighed and crawled out of the bed, pulling on his underwear and pants. He needed to get a clean shirt at least from across the hall at some point. He passed into the kitchen and sat at the table watching as Carol went about making breakfast.
"Where's Lincoln?" She asked, turning to look at him.
Daryl was still adjusting to the fact that the household now held an all-important member and this member's name was Lincoln. He shrugged a little.
"Still in the bed," Daryl said.
Carol rested her hand on her hip for a second.
"Well will you go get him?" She asked. "He could fall out of the bed. He's too little to get down off of it. He probably needs to go outside, too. Would you mind taking him out?"
Daryl sighed. She was making breakfast, the least he could do was take the dog out he supposed. He could get a shirt on his way out anyway.
"Fine," he said. He passed back into the bedroom and scooped up the dog.
"His leash is by the door," Carol said when Daryl passed back through with the dog in his arms. "Thank you!"
"Yeah, no problem," Daryl said. He ignored the fact that he hadn't bothered with his shoes, grabbed the leash, and decided to stop across the hall for a shirt before he slipped down the stairs with Lincoln, who was now whining again, in tow.
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Daryl followed Lincoln around while the puppy bounded through grass that was far taller than he was. It itched on Daryl's feet, and he started to wonder for the first time why it was that their landlord was an asshole that wouldn't even cut the grass before it started to look like the Amazon out there.
Lincoln was taking his sweet time, nose to the ground, plowing through the tall grass. Daryl was sure that the dog had been quicker going for the women. It was almost like he knew that Daryl just had to suffer through this because Carol would somehow know if he didn't let the dog finish his business at his own speed.
When the dog was finally done, Daryl snatched him up before he had time to do much more than look at Daryl like he expected him to cheer for him like Carol and Andrea had done the night before. He carried the wiggly creature up the stairs and stepped back into Carol's apartment, putting the dog on the floor and unhooking the leash.
"Was it wet?" Carol asked.
"Huh?" Daryl asked.
"Was the grass wet?" Carol asked.
"No," Daryl said, shaking his head.
The puppy bounded around his feet and Daryl kept stepping around it. Michonne had brought the dog a whole damn toy store of toys to play with, but right now it seemed much more interested in trying to bite the bottom of Daryl's pants leg.
"Sit down," Carol commanded. "Your breakfast is almost done."
Daryl sat in his chair and ignored the little dog that kept pulling at his pants and trying to drag his foot away, not realizing that it lacked the strength necessary to move Daryl at all.
Carol brought Daryl breakfast and then went back to get her own. He was already eating by the time that she sat down.
"Good," he mumbled.
She smiled and cut off a piece of her pancake, holding it down and offering it to Lincoln. He lost interest in Daryl's pants leg and came over, taking an unusually long amount of time to decide if he wanted to taste the pancake bit. Finally Carol put it on the floor and left it there for him to decide while she ate.
"Dog's gon' eat pancakes now?" Daryl asked, his mouth full.
Carol shrugged.
"It's just a taste. He went outside, he should get a treat," she said.
Daryl chuckled.
"Don't'cha think ya might be a little too excited 'bout the dog?" Daryl asked.
"Lincoln," Carol corrected. "Everyone has to use his name so he starts to get used to it."
"Lincoln," Daryl said. "Don't'cha think ya might be a little too excited 'bout Lincoln? I mean he's just a hound dog."
"He's not a hound dog!" Carol protested.
Daryl chucked again and nodded.
"Yep…yeah he is," Daryl said. "Ain't nothin' bad really, but he is a hound dog."
Carol looked over the side of the table at Lincoln who had decided the piece of pancake was of really no interest to him. Nose to the floor he was now beginning to explore the area more. Daryl watched him too and when he looked back at Carol she looked like she was pouting over her breakfast. He immediately knew that he'd done something wrong.
"What's the matter with ya?" He asked.
"Why are you being mean to Lincoln?" Carol asked. "Why did you get him if you don't like him?"
Daryl felt sorry for teasing her. He reached his hand across the table and tapped her arm.
"Don't be sore," he said. "I was teasin' ya. Ya wanna be excited about Lincoln then ya go ahead an' be excited 'bout him."
Carol didn't look fully like she believed him, but she did halfheartedly smile. He decided not to tease her too much. Apparently Lincoln wasn't territory for teasing.
"I've got to take him to the vet today," Carol said. "He'll need his shots, and I need to make an appointment to get him fixed while he's little."
Daryl coughed a little.
"Ya mean ya gonna cut off his nuts?" Daryl asked.
Carol looked at him and he didn't like the way she was smiling.
"He's little. He's not going to miss them and he doesn't need to be sniffing around and looking for girlfriends when he gets older," Carol said.
Daryl shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Lincoln," he said to the puppy that was nosing through the pile of toys that Michonne had gotten him and not paying them a bit more attention than a man in the moon. "I ain't had nothin' ta do with the fact that she's plannin' on cuttin' ya nuts off."
"Daryl!" Carol scolded.
Daryl chuckled.
"Sorry, but it's important that he know that as a man I ain't behind that shit," Daryl said. "You the one that's scissor happy."
"It's not like he knows," Carol said.
Daryl chuckled again and went back to his breakfast. He figured that if the conversation had gone in this direction it would be better for him to eat his food and get out of there before she got any other ideas.
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Daryl sat on the tailgate of his truck eating the sandwiches that Miss Jo brought him for lunch. He nodded as Hershel came out, carrying his own lunch.
"Mind if I join you, son?" Hershel asked.
Daryl shook his head and Hershel hoisted himself onto the back of the truck with a little more effort than it usually took Daryl to get up there. Hershel took a bite of one of his sandwiches.
"You know," Hershel said, "when I was even younger than you I used to eat on the back of my daddy's truck with him while we took lunch."
Daryl nodded.
"How's that old truck you got running for you?" Hershel asked.
"She's a good truck," Daryl said.
"I just never see you driving her," Hershel said. "I didn't know if she let you down."
Daryl shook his head.
"I give her ta Carol," Daryl said. He knew that Hershel knew about what had happened to Carol. Apparently the whole town knew about it and talked about it all the time. It was the most exciting thing to talk about from what Daryl could tell. Daryl didn't mind talking to Hershel about Carol either. Since the whole thing happened he hadn't felt the need to hide the fact that he went over to Michonne's to see her after work, and Hershel even let him off early some days just to go.
Daryl wasn't sure if he could call what he had with Carol a relationship or not, but he was certain that Hershel knew there was something there.
"That was mighty nice of you," Hershel said.
Daryl shrugged.
"She needed a truck," Daryl said. "She ain't had no way ta get nowhere an' she didn't need ta feel like she was always havin' ta ask for people ta do for her. Now she can go anywhere she needs ta go."
"Still," Hershel said, "a lot of people would have just kept it for themselves if it runs."
"Weren't for me anyway," Daryl said, finishing one of the sandwiches and unwrapping the second from the paper towel. "Ya ever had a dog?" Daryl asked, chewing a bite of the second sandwich.
"Not in a while," Hershel said. "We have some barn cats now, you've probably seen them."
Daryl nodded. One of the barn cats was lazy and fat because it had eaten twice what it should have in field mice. The other one, the black one, was a hell cat and damn near clawed his eyes out one day when he heaved up a hay bale without realizing she was behind it. Damn near scared them both to death.
"Why, son? You thinking about getting a dog?" Hershel asked.
Daryl shook his head.
"Carol's got a damn hound now," he said. "She's 'bout crazy over that thing an' I don't know if it's normal."
Hershel chuckled.
"Let me tell you the story of the Roscoes," Hershel said.
"The Roscoes?" Daryl asked.
Hershel nodded, taking a drink from the mason jar of sweet tea he'd rested on the bed beside him.
"When I first got married to Jo," Hershel said, "her uncle gave is this black and white dog. It was a Collie. Jo loved that thing. She got it two days after we got back from our honeymoon and I was pretty sure that she loved the dog more than she loved me."
Daryl nodded a little, but didn't interrupt Hershel since it was clear that his story wasn't done.
"So Jo babied this little dog just like he was a kid. I swear when Shawn was born she was only just a little more taken with him than she was with that dog, though Shawn came along a few years later. Anyway, Daryl, she named the little dog Rosco."
Hershel paused and chewed a bite of his sandwich and Daryl waited.
"So one day I come in the house and Jo, she was working then at the feed store in town, well she wasn't home that day. So I come in the house and Rosco was dead in the kitchen floor. I don't know what happened to him. Don't know if he had a heart attack or ate something, but he was dead. I panicked. I knew that it was going to break Jo's heart that the little thing was dead," Hershel said.
"So what'd ya do?" Daryl asked.
Hershel chuckled.
"I did what any reasonable man in love would do. I drove all over Sweet Junction and half the surrounding area that day, after burying Rosco of course, until I found another dog that looked just like him. I pulled up in the yard with the dog and told Jo I took him driving," Hershel said.
Daryl chuckled.
"Did she buy it?" Daryl asked.
Hershel nodded a little.
"That isn't the best of it," Hershel said.
Daryl smiled and waited to hear what the old man was going to say next.
"So Rosco eventually became a farm dog as much as anything else. He'd go out with me to work and come in at night. And Jo, she worshipped the dog. She'd do anything just to make that dog happy. As it turns out, though, one day Rosco got in a bad way with some of the cows and he got trampled pretty badly. Wasn't going to pull through, and there was nothing to be done about it. By that time, Shawn had been born and Jo was out of town visiting her Mama with the baby. So once again, I buried old Rosco and I went and scoured the area. It was harder that time, though, because Rosco was older and he was smarter. I found a dog that looked a lot like him, though, paid the man three times what the dog was worth, and brought it home," Hershel said.
Daryl chuckled.
"And she bought it that time too?" He asked.
Hershel nodded and laughed a little.
"So here I was, thinking I was a clever fellow. Jo fawned over our brand new baby boy, and she still had her beloved Rosco and was none the wiser to the fact that I had buried two Roscoes by the old fence line out there. That was, until one night. Rosco hadn't been out with me at all to check on the cows, and he wasn't in the house when I got in from work. Jo was doing something with the baby, so I slipped out to see if I couldn't find the dog, scared to death that I was going to have to either find another Rosco or finally break Jo's heart and tell her that Rosco was gone," Hershel said.
"Did ya find Rosco?" Daryl asked.
"I did. I found Rosco in the barn. In the corner of the barn was an old shredded up quilt folded up, and big as day there was Rosco laying on that blanket with all five of his puppies," Hershel said, laughing. "I never even knew that the third Rosco was a girl until then. Of course, later, Jo came out while I was trying to figure out what to do about Rosco's children. I thought she was going to freak out, but she just smiled at me, the way she always does when something falls apart. She told me that she'd put the blanket out there for Rosco's pups. She told me that she'd known all along about the Roscoes, and she still keeps up with the little headstones she made for all three of them to this day."
Daryl shook his head a little.
"So she knowed all along that Rosco weren't Rosco?" Daryl asked.
Hershel nodded.
"She did. She said she knew right away when she met the second Rosco that something had happened, but she figured that it meant so much to me that she wasn't going to say a thing. Then when the third Rosco turned out to be a girl, she kept that to herself too. Jo knew about the Roscoes, but I wouldn't have ever known she knew if the final of the Roscoes hadn't had pups," Hershel said. "Thing is, Daryl, that women go crazy over things like that. They're like babies, but for as crazy as they seem sometimes, women tend to have it better together than even we do."
Daryl nodded and smiled.
"I hope nothin' don't happen ta Lincoln," Daryl said. "I ain't tryin' ta find no more hound dogs 'round this place."
Hershel laughed again.
"I don't recommend the practice of the Roscoes. It would have been easier to just tell Jo. In hindsight I know she would have understood," Hershel said. "What'd ya say the hound's name was, son?"
"Lincoln," Daryl said.
Hershel nodded and eased himself off the tailgate.
"Well, I'm sure that however she's acting with Lincoln is just like she should be acting," Hershel said. "Just remember, she's never as crazy as you think she is, you just don't think the same way that she does."
Daryl nodded and balled up the paper towels in his hand. He hopped off the back of the truck and took the jar of sweet tea he had, chugging down the rest. He started toward the house after Hershel to throw away the trash and return the jar.
"Should I say somethin' ta Miss Jo 'bout the Roscoes?" Daryl asked, chuckling.
Hershel turned around and looked at him.
"It's best to let sleeping Roscoes lie, boy," Hershel said.
Daryl smiled to himself. He would let Carol act as crazy as she wanted over Lincoln, if that's what made her happy. He hoped he never had to get wrapped up in something quite as crazy as the Rosco situation, but strangely he didn't see the story as being something that he couldn't see himself getting tangled up in too. He chuckled, though, realizing how much trouble Hershel must have gone through to find matching Roscoes, and all the time Miss Jo had never let him know that she was in on his secret. Daryl could imagine her, smiling at him the way she always did, and all the while knowing that he was trying to pull the wool over her eyes with a brand new dog.
Daryl was starting to realize this relationship stuff was a lot more complicated than it looked. Andrea was right, from the outside, people made it look easy, but things weren't always what they seemed.