AN: Hi everyone! Sorry it's been a couple of days on this one.
I hope you enjoy the chapter. As always, I appreciate very much hearing from you, so let me know what you think!
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The sound of pounding on the door in the middle of the night, coupled with Lincoln almost launching himself from the bed and clattering down the stairs and through the house to bay at the door snatched Carol rudely out of her sleep. For a moment she sat in the bed, the noise continuing and struggled with the accompanying disorientation.
Finally she came to her senses and threw back the cover, getting up and finding her oversized t shirt thrown over the post at the foot of the bed. She pulled it on, not caring if it was inside out or even facing the right direction. She started through the house, Daryl stirring as well.
As Carol walked through the kitchen toward the door, the sound of Daryl's feet pounding on the floor caught up with her and he grabbed her by the shoulder, snatching her back a little.
"Fuck ya doin'?" He spat.
"I'm going to see who's at the door," Carol answered back, her voice still heavy with sleep.
"Ya don't open the fuckin' door in the middle of the night!" Daryl said. "I'll get it, and it better be damn important!" He said, his voice raising as he closed in on the door. He looked through the peephole, but Carol knew it was too dark to see anything since he hadn't bothered to switch on the light to the carport. Daryl unlocked the door and pushed Lincoln back with his foot as he cracked it open. Carol stood to the side, scratching an itch on her leg and wondering what was going on that would have someone beating on the door at the ungodly hour.
Daryl yanked the door open and slid Lincoln back with his foot hard enough that the dog's toenails lost their traction and he sailed back at least a foot.
A moment later Andrea came through the door, a box under her arm. She didn't speak until she was inside and Daryl had shut the door and locked it.
"Fuck ya doin' here in the middle a' the damn night?" Daryl asked, scrubbing at his eyes with his fist.
Andrea glanced at him and then at Carol. She was wearing jeans and an oversized button up shirt and Carol realized she didn't have any shoes on.
"Can I just stay here tonight?" She asked. "Just for the night."
"What's goin' on?" Daryl asked.
"Sure, you can stay here," Carol said. "We don't have furniture in any of the extra rooms, but the couch is yours if you need it."
Andrea directed her attention toward Carol and nodded in her direction, only slightly visible in the darkness of the kitchen.
"Thanks," she said softly, "I appreciate it."
Andrea pushed past Daryl and went into the living room dropping her box near the couch and immediately sitting down on the piece of furniture. Carol went to get her the one extra pillow that they had and a blanket out of the linen closet. Daryl remained firmly planted near the door.
"What's goin' on?" He repeated.
Carol gave Andrea the pillow and blanket and walked over to Daryl, putting her hand on his shoulder.
"Why don't you go back to bed?" She said. "It's late and we can all get some sleep. Andrea can explain in the morning if she feels like it."
Andrea whispered a thanks and Carol heard the shuffling around of Andrea getting situated on the couch. It was apparent, also, that Lincoln had already selected this as his newly desired place to sleep and would be keeping the woman company for the few hours that they all would have left to sleep.
Daryl reluctantly shuffled forward and back in the direction of the bedroom fron whence he had recently come, the excitement over for the moment. Carol followed behind him and crawled immediately into bed, not paying much attention to whether or not he was in bed as quickly as he'd gotten out of it.
She didn't know why Andrea had shown up in the middle of the night with a box of her things and needed to sleep on their couch, but Carol wasn't going to press and she wasn't going to turn her away. Andrea always explained herself, but this wasn't the hour for explanations.
Carol felt Daryl's arm go around her and close tightly around her ribcage, jarring her a little as he tugged her toward him. He was snoring before she could even think to go back to sleep and she imagined that he'd hardly been fully awake for the entire event. She closed her eyes, determined to get some kind of rest in the hours that remained before what was typically a rude wake up call.
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Daryl woke up and groaned. Carol was up…of course she was up. He could vaguely remember that Andrea had showed up at the house the night before, but it almost seemed like a dream. There wasn't much that was clear about it in his memory beyond the fact that she had come, they'd shared some sort of exchange, and he imagined that when he made his way through the house she'd be there.
Daryl got out of the bed, still wearing his boxers from where he hadn't bothered to take them off after Andrea's arrival, and stepped into the bathroom.
"Need somethin'?" He asked Carol, yawning.
Her groan told him no and a glance at the clock told him it wasn't quite time for her to need anything except for him to leave her alone and keep Lincoln out of the bathroom. He passed through the house and looked for the dog, finally finding him on his back pretending to be a teddy bear for Andrea who was either asleep or dead on the couch.
"Lincoln, let's go piss," Daryl hissed at the dog. He needed to go to the other bathroom, but he wanted to let the dog out before he decided to turn the living room into the Mississippi River. Lincoln didn't stir. "Lincoln! Let's go!" Daryl said, raising his voice. The dog did turn his head a little in Daryl's direction, but made no other movement to obey. "Stay the fuck there then," Daryl said. "Gonna obey me one damn way or the other."
Daryl stepped into the hall bath, relieved himself, and when he was done he went into the kitchen, switched on the coffee pot and loaded bread in the toaster for Carol.
Finally he shuffled over the couch where Andrea was sleeping and pushed at her shoulder. She moaned but didn't move. Daryl had only woken the blonde a few times when he lived with her and he knew that Andrea was difficult to wake when she wasn't in the mood to get up. He pushed at her again.
"Gotta wake up," he said. He really didn't know if she had to wake up or not. She might have a day off that he didn't know about, and if that was the case then he was waking her unnecessarily, but if she had somewhere to be then she'd probably be pissed if he let her sleep right on through it.
Daryl continued to harass Andrea until finally she stirred and sat up, her hair webbed over her face. For a moment she looked as though she had no idea where she was, how she'd ended up there, who Daryl was, or even how she'd acquired the furry teddy bear that was Lincoln who was still flopped on his back beside her.
After a moment, though, realization crept across her face and she squinted her eyebrows, running her hand through her hair and pushing it back.
"What time is it?" She asked.
"Time for ya ta get up if ya workin' today," Daryl said.
Andrea sat up and Lincoln rolled over. Now he was interested in going outside and he moved to his steps and descended them, looking at Daryl with expectation.
Daryl started toward the door to let the dog out in the yard.
"Where's Carol?" Andrea asked, squealing out a yawn from the couch.
"Dyin'," Daryl said. "She'll resurrect herself in just a lil' bit. Ya want somethin' ta eat?"
Andrea got up from the couch and shuffled into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out the carton of orange juice without responding to him. He stood by the door waiting on Lincoln to finish his rounds and watched Andrea.
"I can make pancakes," Andrea said. She chuckled a little. "Just like old times."
Daryl didn't feel like turning down pancakes. These mornings he didn't push Carol to make breakfast and she seldom volunteered. Beyond toast or cereal, he didn't get much in the mornings. He figured it was enough that Carol still made him lunch, even though she looked like she was turning green the entire time she made his sandwiches. He just assumed asking for pancakes might be a bit much.
"Ain't gon' turn my nose up at 'em," Daryl said. He let the dog back and dug him a treat from his jar without any pomp and circumstance, though most mornings he required the dog to at least look sufficiently excited about it.
Andrea dug around in the kitchen while Daryl leaned against the bar watching her.
"Ya gonna tell us why ya here?" He asked finally.
"Oh…" Andrea said, setting to work making the pancakes. "Hmm…" she hummed. "Well that's easy enough. I'm here because your brother's an asshole and I didn't think it would be nice to wake Michonne and both her kids up in the middle of the night."
"So ya came here an' woke us up?" Daryl asked.
And somewhat glared at him over her shoulder.
"I'm making your stupid pancakes," she said. "Shut up before I poison them."
Daryl chuckled.
"Not that I ain't known already that my brother's an asshole," Daryl said, "but what'd he do this time?"
Andrea shook her head and sighed. Daryl thought she looked pretty well exhausted and he wondered how much she had slept before she arrived on their couch.
"Doesn't matter," she said. "Basically he told me to get the fuck out, so I did."
Daryl bit at his cuticle. Since he'd known Andrea, he knew that Merle had told her to get the fuck out about nine thousand times, and that was only when he was listening. It was something Merle said with almost the same regularity that Daryl told Carol he loved her. In fact, Daryl was starting to suspect that in whatever language that Merle spoke it might mean the same damn thing.
"Ain't the first damn time he's told ya ta get the fuck out," Daryl said.
Andrea chuckled and shook her head. Daryl could tell she wasn't fully awake because she moaned a little against her own exhaustion.
"No…no the first time," she said, "but it's the last damn time."
Daryl wasn't sure what to respond. He didn't know the circumstances behind Andrea's self-eviction, but he was sure he was going to find out what the hell happened. He scratched his head.
"I gotta go check on Carol," he said. "Ya gonna be OK?"
"Go on," Andrea said. "I'm fine. Your food'll be ready when you get back."
Daryl made his way through the house and toward the bathroom. He found Carol already up and rinsing her mouth out over the sink, leaning on it with one palm supporting her. She looked up at him and eyed him through the mirror.
"Ya OK?" He asked.
Carol nodded and wiped her face with the hand towel.
"I think I'll live," she said. "Everything alright with Andrea?"
Daryl shrugged.
"I don't know," he said. "She's makin' somethin' for breakfast. Ya don't gotta eat it if ya don't want none."
Carol snickered.
"Thanks…I don't want any," she said. She turned around and switched the light off, coming toward him and wrapping her arms around him. He hugged her back and rubbed his hands up and down her back for a moment as she swayed against him. "Did she say what happened?" Carol asked.
"Just said Merle was bein' an asshole an' told her ta get the fuck out so now she's here," Daryl said.
"Sounds about right," Carol said. She pulled slowly away from Daryl and then started through the house. "Merle is an asshole," she said as she walked.
"Hear, hear!" Andrea called, putting a plate of pancakes on the dining room table. Carol chuckled. Daryl went straight to the table and slid the plate to his customary seat, sitting down and thanking Andrea before he started eating.
"Ya shirt's on backwards," he called to Carol.
"Don't care," Carol responded, making her way toward the coffee pot.
"Didn't reckon ya did, but don't want'cha ta care an' then call me an asshole too," he said.
Both women chuckled in response, not realizing that he was at least somewhat serious about the statement.
"So what did the charming Merle Dixon do?" Carol asked. She offered Andrea a mug for coffee and then poured another one which she brought and sat in front of Daryl. Daryl looked at the mug of black coffee and considered asking for cream and sugar before he finally decided to get up and get it himself. If he was about to be caught in the middle of two women discussing the asshole actions of men, he didn't want to fall victim to anything that might fill his cookie jar up for the evening.
"It's stupid…" Andrea said. "Or rather what started it is stupid. Basically we started fighting last night…and I don't even remember what we started fighting about. But it turned into a game of let me tell you everything I hate about you and the next thing I know he's launched into one of his famous Merle speeches about the evils of women," Andrea changed her tone of voice and waved her free hand around to imitate how she saw Merle as acting when he launched into one of his speeches. "So when he gets done I called him on his bullshit." She shrugged and took a drink from her coffee mug. "He told me to go fuck myself and to get the hell out…and I'm tired of hearing it…so I got the hell out."
Carol nodded knowingly. Daryl didn't say anything. He stuck to eating his pancakes. The report sounded like a typical night with Merle when he was in a mood. Unfortunately for Merle, or fortunately for him, depending on whether or not you believed the philosophies that he vomited, last night he had finally managed to shake Andrea.
Whether or not she would stay away, Daryl thought, that was still to be determined.
"Ya really leavin' him? Like for good?" Daryl asked, finally.
Andrea nodded.
"I'm really done," she said. "Unless Merle Dixon comes to find me and he comes with one hell of an apology, I'm done."
Carol reached over and rubbed Andrea's shoulder, squeezing it a little.
"Well you're welcome to stay here as long as you need to," Carol said. "It's not much, but the bed is all yours."
"Thanks," Andrea said. "I'm sure it won't be more than a couple of days. I just need to find somewhere that's renting. I don't want to rent in that building. I don't want to look at his face every damn day if I can avoid it."
"Ya know he ain't meant it," Daryl offered. "Why don't'cha just go make nice with him an' then ya ain't gotta drop a couple hundred bucks for a place ta rent."
"I don't want to make nice with him, Daryl," Andrea responded. She put her hand on her hip and Daryl saw a bit of sour attitude wash over the blonde. "You know, until you and your brother rolled into town I was just fine on my own. I'll be just fine on my own again. That's what fucking Merle Dixon never realized. I don't need his ass. I'll find a place to stay and I'll be just fine…just like it's always been."
Carol put a reassuring hand on Andrea.
"Don't worry about finding a place right away. Take your time. You're not imposing here. If we had a bed in one of the other rooms you could just stay here. It's not like we have tons of company passing through that need a guest room," Carol said.
"You're sweet," Andrea said. "I appreciate it, I really do. I just need a couple of days to figure out what to do and to get my ducks in a row. I promise that I'm going to try to stay out of your way and everything. I just need…I just need a couple of days."
Carol nodded.
"Don't worry about it, Andrea. We've all been in situations like this. You'll get back on your feet in no time and until you find a place you just relax. This is your home too. Isn't that right, Daryl?" Carol said.
Daryl finished the last of the pancakes and washed them down with part of the cooling cup of coffee before he bothered to respond.
"Damn straight," he said. He got up to take his plate to the sink.
The truth of the matter was that he wasn't thrilled with having Andrea camp out on their couch, but he could tolerate it and he certainly wasn't going to be the asshole that told her she couldn't stay there because he did know what it felt like to be in a situation where you needed somewhere to go, just until you got things figured out.
He also hoped, honestly, that he could get ahold of Merle somehow today and have a talk with him. Maybe he could work something out. Perhaps the situation wasn't as dire as it seemed. After all, everything looked worse in the middle of the night after a long fight than it did the next day. Perhaps things could be smoothed over and Daryl could see Andrea happily headed off to live with Merle again and leave their couch vacant for Lincoln and Lincoln alone.
"You guys are the best," Andrea said with a smile. She swiped at her eyes. "Do you mind if I take a shower?" She asked.
"No, you can use either bathroom you want, but we're in and out the master bath," Carol said, "so the hall bath might be better. Just grab towels out the hall closet and help yourself."
Andrea thanked her and patted Daryl on the chest, smiling, as she walked by. He waited until she had her towel and stepped in the bathroom to turn to Carol.
"Ya know I gotta talk ta Merle," he said. He sighed.
Carol made a face.
"Good luck with that," she said, snickering. "I'm just glad it's you and not me. He may have actually fucked up this time, though."
Daryl narrowed his eyebrows.
"Merle's fucked up plenty a' times," Daryl said.
"Maybe," Carol responded. "But this time he may have fucked up good enough to lose Andrea. If he doesn't want that, though, I hope his knees are in pretty good condition."
Daryl chuckled and pulled Carol to him. She put her face against his chest and he closed his eyes a moment, enjoying the feeling as she rubbed her cheek against him. He pulled away slightly and tipped her face up with his finger, kissing her and exchanging flavors with her.
"Mmm…" she said when they broke apart. "Sweet."
She smiled at him and winked.
"Damn straight I'm sweet, woman," Daryl said.
Carol chuckled in response.
"See if some of that won't rub off on your brother," she said.
"I know," Daryl said. "I'ma see if I can't leave Hershel's a bit early and try ta catch him 'fore he gets off work an' can do somethin' stupid like run off ta the fuckin' Water Ho an' try ta drown himself."
Carol nodded her understanding at him.
"Eat'cha toast, woman," Daryl said. "Feed my damn kid. I got ta worry 'bout Merle's sorry ass today so I don't need ta be worryin' that'cha gon' black ya ass out somewhere."
Carol chuckled.
"I'm working at Michonne's," she said. "Do you really think she's not going to make sure I eat something?"
Now it was Daryl's turn to chuckle. Carol had told him, and he hadn't believed it at first, but now he kind of did, that Michonne set an alarm on a watch and made Carol eat at least something every two hours while she was at work.
"Fine," Daryl said. "Eat at least one piece, though."
"Deal," Carol said. She went toward the toaster to get her toast and Daryl excused himself toward the bedroom to get dressed for work. It seemed like he might have his work cut out for him today, and he was thinking that Hershel's cows were going to be the more agreeable part of his day.