AN: So I figured you needed a little check in with Daryl here. I might try to get something out somewhere later tonight, I'm not sure if it'll be this fic or not, but I've got some things that need to be done around here right now.
It's really interesting to see how everyone's reacting to what our couple is going through right now. I guess for me, there's no good guy and there's no bad guy. There are two people who have issues to work out, and they're working them out as imperfectly as we all do sometimes. But I really do appreciate hearing (reading?) your perspectives on things.
I hope you enjoy the chapter. Let me know what you think!
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When Daryl woke up his head was pounding so bad that it didn't even feel like it belonged to him. He pulled himself up in the bed and slowly got up, the pounding making so ridiculous it was making his teeth feel like they were vibrating. He hoped to hell there was a bottle of aspirin or some shit in the bathroom because if there was he was going to take as much as he figured he could without killing himself.
The bathroom cabinet was a plethora of bottles of shit and Daryl found what he was looking for. He knew two was a typical dose so he figured four was fine. He palmed the pills, tossed them in his mouth and washed them down with the tap water.
Coming back into the bedroom he glanced at the fluorescent lights on the alarm clock. It wasn't even morning. It was afternoon by any standards.
Daryl sat down on the side of the bed and rested his pounding head in his hand. The other was all wrapped up and it ached but he could barely feel the ache of it over his head.
He'd fucked up the day before running his damn truck off the road. He regretted the hell out of that shit right now, but honestly it was about all the fuck he regretted when he thought about what had happened.
Carol didn't want to marry his ass. He wasn't good enough for her. She could call it whatever the hell she wanted, but what it boiled down to was the fact that he wasn't fucking good enough for her. He'd suspected it once upon a time and then he'd convinced himself that he was wrong. He'd told himself he was fucking brainwashed by Merle…by his old man…by every fucker that had ever made him feel like he was just a piece of shit…but he'd lied to himself. She'd basically said it. She might not have used the words exactly, but she'd said it.
When he'd stormed out of the house he didn't know what to do or where he was going. He'd thought about going to see Hershel at first, but Hershel Greene couldn't fix this shit. He'd thought about going to see Merle. Hell, he owed the bastard a fucking apology. Merle had called that shit in the air and Daryl had broken his jaw over it. Merle was an asshole, but he knew what the fuck he was talking about.
But Daryl hadn't seen anyone. He'd driven to the Water Ho and checked for Merle, but when the man wasn't there he'd sunk down into an empty booth by himself and thought while nursing the drinks that he ordered.
Carol didn't want to marry him and he wasn't wanting to hear shit about Ed Peletier. He didn't believe in hitting women. He'd never believed in hitting women, and he wouldn't ever hit Carol. That was just plain fact. In fact, he was pretty damn sure that if he'd had any inclination at all to give it a try, last night might have been the first damn time he'd have tried to knock her ass out, and he didn't even like the fact that he felt that way.
He'd spent his time at the bar thinking about the fact that he'd let himself think they could work this whole damn relationship out. He'd let himself actually start to think that they were going to get married and they were going to have kids…and they were going to live in the fucking fairytale that she'd created, the one that so closely resembled what the hell he thought it all ought to look like if you were one of the lucky ones that lived a life like Hershel and Miss Jo.
Except Carol didn't want to marry him. She'd play at the rest of the game, but then it was really all a game, wasn't it? It was really more or less the same damn thing that Merle and Andrea had been doing except the words were different. They'd live together, say they loved each other, but at the end of the day there wasn't any getting married. Carol wasn't willing to be his Miss Jo. She wasn't willing to stand up, like Miss Jo did, and admit that she was marrying a fuck up, but it was a fuck up she was willing to forgive and spend the rest of her life with…
It was like his asshole of a brother had always said. Women didn't marry Dixon men. That's not what they were good for. They were good for a roll in the hay, but at the end of the damn day they weren't some prince riding up to someone's castle to sweep them away. When the roll in the hay was done, it was on to greener pastures. Carol would play with his ass…but now he knew she was looking for something better and she was waiting to see when that prince was going to come riding up on his noble fucking steed.
And she could say that it was Ed, but what the hell was Daryl supposed to do with that shit anyway? He wasn't Ed Peletier. He couldn't do a damn thing about the man. Ed Peletier was in prison, and whether or not he stayed there, or whether or not some damn body even offed the son of a bitch, he'd always be there. Daryl knew well enough that the people who fuck with your head aren't gone, not even after they die.
But he couldn't change what Ed had done and he couldn't take that away, no matter how damn much he might want to. Ed was there, he'd been there, and there wasn't a damn thing that Daryl had to do with any of it. He could understand why Carol did some of the shit that he did and he could try to change shit or watch out for it. He understood why she looked panicked we he yelled and lost his temper. He even understood why she flinched if he moved around too damn much when he was mad. He understood that shit and he was fucking sorry for even reminding her of the asshole she'd been married to, but he couldn't take that away.
And him not marrying her wouldn't take that shit away either.
When Daryl left the Water Ho the alcohol in his system and the anger and hurt coursing through his veins had him thinking he was right in the first place. Carol didn't think he was good enough to marry. She was going to wait for some damn prince. But he didn't know what the fuck to do about it. Was he supposed to give up and just get the hell out of there like he should have done? He should have just stayed the fuck away when he'd left. He wanted to be with her and he was miserable without her, but it was going to be a lot fucking worse now. It was going to be a whole hell of a lot worse when he had a kid. The when the fucker did show up…the one that Carol would want to marry…the one that was good enough and she trusted not to be like fucking Ed Peletier…then he'd have to watch that fucker not only take Carol away but take his damn kid away too. The whole damn package. He'd have been better off to stay the fuck away and not even get a kid involved in this shit.
Still, he'd left the Water Ho, tipping his head at Loretta's jolly damn face, and walked out to the truck, not really knowing where the hell he was going. He didn't want to go see Merle. He couldn't take the fucker's smug "I told ya so". Merle had been smart enough to unload Andrea's ass.
And Daryl had thought Merle was being an asshole about it. He'd thought that Merle was fucked up for not being with Andrea and accepting that he'd found someone even though he thought he wouldn't ever find any damn body. But Merle had been the smart damn one. He'd known that eventually Andrea would move on…and hell, maybe she was.
So Daryl had just been driving empty back roads. The same stupid ass back roads he drove all the damn time. The same ones he'd driven taking Carol parking that night in the middle of damn nowhere. The whole damn time his mind just reminding him of all the shit that he'd known in the beginning and lied to himself about. All the shit that he knew now.
And the worst fucking thing about the whole situation was that he loved her. He knew he fucking loved her. He loved her like all those cheesy ass movies said he was supposed to. He loved her like Hershel Greene told him love was supposed to be. He loved here more than he even knew what to do with, but she didn't love him the same damn way. She didn't love him enough to want to marry him and she didn't love him enough to trust him, and that was what hurt more than any of it.
Carol didn't trust him. She didn't trust him to not be like Ed.
And somewhere around that realization he'd suddenly realized he'd drifted too deeply into his thoughts. He realized suddenly that he was driving too damn fast. He was trying to make the truck keep up with his thoughts and he'd drifted into the other lane. If his damn mind had been working at all he might have been just fine. He could have just slowed the fuck down and got back in his lane, but his brain wasn't thinking rationally. He'd jerked the wheel out of panic and the damn truck had gone off the road and damn near flipped sideways as he slammed into one of the deep ass ditches.
He hadn't realized it, though, until the ambulance was there and they were fucking with him and trying to get him to tell them who the hell he was and where he lived. He was almost back into himself when he got to the fucking hospital. He couldn't remember the number to Merle's apartment, so he'd finally given them the house number…it was burned into his damn brain…but he hadn't wanted Carol to come.
He didn't want her sympathy for having gotten hurt. He could do without her fucking sympathy and her "let me help you" bullshit. It almost made him angrier to think of her trying to help him just because he'd gotten hurt…just because he'd run the truck off the road…when he wouldn't have done that shit at all if he hadn't been so stark raving mad over the fact that she'd more or less let him know that she didn't trust him, and she wasn't planning on making this something that was going to last for fucking ever…this was just some damn kind of game, exactly what the hell Merle had called it a few times. She was just going to string him along like a cat with a mouse until she got tired of that shit and then he was out to the curve. He wasn't good enough to marry, he wasn't good enough for her, and he wasn't even a good enough man for her to believe that he wasn't going to be an epic asshole of Ed Peletier proportions.
Daryl got up from the bed, finally, and decided he needed to call someone to go and get the truck. He didn't know anyone who did towing, but someone in Sweet Junction had to offer those services. He couldn't be the only asshole that ever needed it. He saw how many drunk son of a bitches left the Water Ho on a regular basis and he wasn't even about to believe that he was the only person who ever ran a vehicle into a retaining ditch.
Daryl shuffled through the house trying not to step on the dog. He was pissed as fuck at Carol but it wasn't the dog's fault. The dog was good enough for her ass…
As Daryl made his way into the kitchen to start looking for the phone book he glanced and saw her sitting on the couch, reading something, and his blood boiled a little.
No, he wasn't like Ed Peletier…because if he was he didn't even want to know what he'd do to her right now.
"What do you need?" Carol called.
Daryl ignored her and kept looking. She was coming, though…coming to help him. Coming to probably cry about how he'd left and it had upset her because it didn't fit right into the fucking game that she was playing. She was so damn upset that he wasn't OK with the fact that she didn't think he was good enough and that she didn't believe that he wasn't Ed.
Daryl turned around as soon as he felt her hand on him. For a moment he got angry at himself. He loved this damn woman. Part of him wanted so damn bad to just forget the whole fucking thing. Part of him wanted to tell her it was all alright and he'd play the game for as long as she let him just to be with her…and he knew he wanted to play it as long as he could…but the other part was angry with her and angry with him for realizing this was a game and he really was going to get burned, just like Merle said. If he continued to play the game…the game he didn't want to end…then he was just setting himself up. He was consciously procrastinating when the pain would come, but it would come.
"There ain't no fuckin' phone book in this house?" Daryl asked.
Carol raised an eyebrow at him.
"What do you need a phone book for?" She asked.
"Gotta find some damn body can get my truck outta that fuckin' ditch," Daryl said, trying not to let all the anger in his voice seep out. He didn't know what he wanted to do about the situation and he didn't know what was going to happen between them, but he wasn't going any damn where until he had a vehicle.
"Andrea already called Ron," Carol said. "He's taking your truck over to his shop. We can go over later and look at it. It's not a good idea for you to be driving right now so I thought that Andrea could drive the truck back if it's not too bad…"
Daryl growled. He didn't have a truck and now he was trapped with her and she was wearing that damn sad expression on her face that just pissed him off in the moment. He suddenly wanted to go back to bed.
Daryl pushed by her and started in the direction of the bedroom.
"Please, Daryl!" Carol called. "We need to talk about this!"
Daryl turned around. They had to talk about every damn thing. They talked and they talked and it seemed to help…or at least he thought it did until yesterday and now he wasn't so damn sure.
Daryl walked over and pulled the chair out from under the dining room table and sat down. If they were going to talk about this shit then they might as well get it over with. Maybe it would help him figure out what the fuck he was doing…what was the best move to make. Did he keep playing the game and postpone the pain, or did he just go ahead and accept it now?
Carol walked over and took a seat across from him. She looked at him and he didn't know which one of them was supposed to start, but he felt like she had a whole lot more to say in this damn situation, so he just waited.
"Daryl, I didn't mean I wouldn't marry you…" Carol said.
Daryl raised his eyebrows.
"Ya said ya didn't think it was a good damn idea ta marry me," Daryl said. "So what the fuck does that mean in your language, 'cause I'm thinkin' I don't speak that one."
"I meant right now, Daryl," Carol said. Daryl closed his eyes for a minute. Sweet Jesus he was not going to be able to keep his cool if she started crying. He was going to have to walk away to keep from choking her if she started that sobbing shit. He didn't know if it was supposed to make him feel sorry or what, but right now it was only going to piss him off. "I just don't think that right now is the right time. I need time, Daryl. I just got divorced from Ed…we haven't even been together that long and we've fought half the time we've been together…and with all this going on with Ed…"
"Stop! Just fuckin' stop!" Daryl said. "I can't take the shit with Ed right now. I ain't fuckin' Ed Peletier. I ain't never gonna be like him but I can't change not one damn thing that fucker ever did. Whether his ass rots in prison or he's on our fuckin' doorstep tomorrow don't change shit about you and me, Carol…or at least it ain't supposed to."
"I know that you're not Ed, Daryl, and I know that you're not like Ed. I can't help how I feel, though," Carol said.
Daryl shook his head.
"Ya can't help how ya feel…fine. So how do ya feel?" Daryl asked.
"I'm…I don't know, Daryl. I don't know if I'm scare or if I'm worried…I don't know, but when you say marriage it just seems overwhelming. What about you? Aren't you scared of it? When we moved in here you lost it over soap…" Carol said.
"I ain't scared a' gettin' married," Daryl said. He was feeling calmer already and he was starting to think the stupid fucking dining room table was magical or something. Either it was that or the fact that Carol seemed…maybe…like she wasn't singing exactly the same tune she'd been singing the day before. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking? "I been thinkin' 'bout it an' I just ain't scared a' marryin' ya. I can't figure out one damn thing that's gonna change 'sides ya gonna be my wife…an' everybody's gonna know it. Our house ain't gonna change…I ain't gonna change into no damn body different. You gonna be Carol Dixon…and I reckon if Lincoln's got a fuckin' last name we gonna change that shit too…but ain't nothin' really changin'. So what the fuck ya scared of if it ain't me?"
Daryl paused a minute and watched as Carol was obviously thinking through it.
"An' I swear to ya right now if ya fuckin' say Ed's name I'm gettin' up from this damn table," Daryl said.
"I just don't want things to go bad, Daryl. I don't want you to feel like you're trapped…I don't want you to think that…" Carol paused. "I don't want you to want out, Daryl. I don't want you to decide you hate me…"
"Damn it," Daryl said. "I asked ya ta marry me…I was the one that fuckin' asked, Carol. Ya don't want ta fuckin' marry me 'cause ya think ya gonna find some damn body better or 'cause ya don't fuckin' trust me…and that's the shit that really fuckin' hurts right there…then at least man the fuck up an' tell me that's your fuckin' problem, but don't turn this shit 'round on me. You the one, Carol, not me that's runnin' scared a' this shit."
"I do trust you," Carol said.
Daryl shook his head.
"No…ya don't," he said. "If ya trusted me then I wouldn't have ta hear shit about Ed all the fuckin' time."
Carol narrowed her eyes at him.
"I'm sorry that I'm not as quick at getting over things in my life as you and your brother are," Carol said. "I haven't had years to put this behind me."
Now it was Daryl's turn to narrow his eyes at her.
"I ain't sayin' I'm perfect an' I got a shit ton a' problems too. Right now you got your fingers all up in one my own fuckin' wounds an' ya just diggin' around for gold or some shit…but it don't mean I don't want ta be with ya ass an' figure out how the hell ta make this shit work whether it means we got to sit every fuckin' day for the rest a' our damn lives across from this table an' talk about shit," Daryl said.
"And I'm fine with that too," Carol said. "You think I don't want to marry you because I don't trust you or I'm looking for someone else? Guess what, Daryl, that's the same voice in your head…it's the same one I have that makes me worried that when we get married things might work out the same way they did the last time I got married…The words are different but the voices are the same."
"And I'm tellin' ya that I ain't gonna turn into fuckin' Ed!" Daryl protested.
"And I'm telling you that even though I wasn't ready to get married, I'm not looking for anybody else…and I do trust you," Carol said. "Maybe it's me that I don't trust…I don't know what it is, Daryl…I do want to be with you. I want to be with you forever…and I want us to have a family together…and I want us to be just like Hershel Greene and Miss Jo and Dale and Irma. I want that…but I'm not sure I'm ready to get married."
Daryl sighed. He wasn't as mad…not really. The mad had dissolved. Now he was more frustrated or hurt. He didn't know what to do about this. More than the idea of marriage, he wondered if this was some kind of trap they were both caught in. It felt like there wasn't any escaping. Whichever way they turned there was something jumping up at one of them.
Daryl put his arms on the table and immediately became aware that though the aspirin he'd taken had done a good deal to relieve the thumping going on around his brain, his arm hurt now when he didn't think not to move it.
"Lemme ask ya somethin'," Daryl said. "How long ya reckon it's gonna take ya before ya think that'cha ready ta marry my ass…'cause I gotta figure out how long I think I can wait 'fore I'm too damn paranoid that this is some kinda fuckin' game an' ya just gonna up an' run off with some damn body 'cause ya know ya can do better than my ass."
Carol visibly bit the inside of her mouth. Daryl could see tears dampening her eyes, but he did at least have to give her credit that somehow she wasn't sobbing. He was grateful for that. He really couldn't take the sobbing…especially not right now…and he probably wouldn't even feel as calm as he did in the moment if it had been part of what was happening right now.
Carol looked around for a minute before taking a deep breath.
"I don't think that I can do any better than you…" Carol said. "And I don't know how to tell you how long it'll take me before I'm not worried anymore…the only thing I know to say is that I'm sorry…and I never meant to hurt your feelings or to make you feel like I don't love you or I don't want to be with you."
She was quiet for a moment and Daryl waited. It was obvious that she was going to say more but she was trying not to cry and he was willing to give her time if that's all she needed not to start bawling.
"I will marry you," Carol said. "I shouldn't have said that I wouldn't…I'll marry you."
Daryl thought about it. He didn't know if he was right or not, but he wondered if she was only agreeing to marry him to make him feel better. If she was placating him with the acceptance of the idea. Granted, it wouldn't change the fact that they got married…and it probably wouldn't change what ultimately happened in their lives, and at this moment he had no damn idea what that would be, but he didn't want her agreeing to marry him to placate him. He wasn't a small child and if she married him just so she could say she'd tried to make him happy, then he doubted he'd ever feel like it was something she really wanted to do.
Daryl wasn't really sure what to do in the situation at all. He wasn't even sure how he felt about it. He thought she was rejecting him completely…he thought she didn't think he was good enough…he thought she didn't trust him to be like Ed. Now he wasn't sure what he thought and what he didn't think. He was feeling mixed up enough that he doubted he'd know whether or not to scratch his watch or wind his ass.
He shook his head.
"I ain't askin' ya ta marry me no more," Daryl said.
Carol looked at him, a look of hurt or shock or something on her face.
"Are you serious?" She asked. "You don't want to marry me now?"
Daryl shook his head.
"Ain't said that," he said. "But I ain't askin' ya now an' I don't want ta marry ya right now."
Daryl got up from the table. Whether or not she thought the conversation was over, it was over for him. He felt like ass and suddenly he felt like he'd been drug through hell he was so damn tired. Coming down off the pissed off feeling that had stayed with him even in his stupid medicated stupor of the night before had him feeling like he just wanted to put his heavy, throbbing head down. And even if they considered continuing the conversation, he didn't think he could go any farther…not right now…not until he'd had more time to even figure out how he really felt about the whole damn thing.
"Where are you going?" Carol asked, hitting her feet. Daryl could see her chest was heaving. "Please…Daryl…we've got to talk about this…."
"We done talked about it," Daryl said. "I ain't goin' no damn where so ya cool ya fuckin' jets. I'm goin' ta lay the fuck down 'cause my brain feels like it's gonna explode. You can go do whatever the hell it was ya was doin'. Ain't no damn body gettin' married today."
Daryl started toward the bedroom.
"So that's it?" Carol asked behind him, her voice cracking a little but thankfully clearer when she continued. "You just don't…we're not…" She sounded frustrated and Daryl though he could second that emotion at least. "You don't want to marry me?" She asked finally.
"Not right now," Daryl said. "Don't know if I might feel like it eventually. Reckon we'll just have ta see what happens."
Daryl went into the bedroom then, closing the door behind him to keep both Carol and the dog from following him. He lie down in the bed and thought, at first, that he'd probably just end up lying there and trying to make sense of all that was going on in his head…and he did that for a while, but after a bit, sleep won out over even the mess that his mind was.