Chapter Three

Daryl stared blankly at his brother as Merle dropped an entire bag full of craft supplies at Lori Grimes' feet. Looking at the former school teacher, he didn't believe her eyes could get any wider. "For th' kids. Might keep 'em busy," he mumbled before moving off. The only thing he kept for himself was a small bag of multi colored dyed feathers. He tried to ignore the unfamiliar rush of pride over his good deed. That wasn't who he was. He didn't do things like this when there was nothing in it for him. He'd let himself think of Carol's girl, and how much she would enjoy having something besides lessons to occupy her time. Shit! She was making him soft.

Lori had to rescue the plastic bag from the excited children she'd been trying to teach for the past hour. "Um … thank you, Merle … that was very thoughtful," she stammered, flummoxed as to why the hardened redneck would give a damn about the children in their camp.

Merle nodded and began making his way back to his own campsite with his brother. "Is there somethin' I should know about?" Daryl asked, barely able to conceal the teasing glint in his eye. "Y' decided t' have a go at courtin' th' teacher? Don't think ol' Shane's gonna like that much. For fuck's sake, Merle. You're gonna ruin your reputation if y' go all soft an' actually start carin' for someone other than yourself."

"Shut it, lil brother," Merle warned, taking a seat in the grass by the tent. "I did it fer th' kids. They don't deserve what's happened t' 'em.. So, when we ran across th' Pick-n-Save, I just thought t' see if'n there was some craft stuff t' keep 'em busy. Peach likes this kinda stuff."

He picked up the headdress he was making with Sophia and opened the bag of colored feathers, weaving some red, blue and yellows in with the dark browns and grays they'd taken from the turkeys several days ago, just so he didn't have to see that look of befuddlement on his brother's face. He wasn't going to admit working on the project kept his mind off of how badly he wanted a hit of meth, cocaine, acid … hell, he didn't really care what.

"She came looking for y' earlier, but I told her you'd gone on th' run with T and Glenn," Daryl said, lowering himself down with his back to the log next to the dormant fire pit. "You're gettin' attached to her, don'tcha think?"

"No more'n yer gettin' attached t' her mama," Merle countered. His eyes searched her out, finding her with Jacqui and Andrea where they were by the communal campfire chopping vegetables for their evening meal. "How's she doin' anyway?" Fuck … there he went, giving a shit again.

Daryl grunted, his shoulders lifting in a shrug. "Haven't seen any of th' usual signs of abuse on her, but she's pretty clever at hidin' her bruises."

"Maybe ol' Ed's noticed how protective you've gotten in regards t' her an' is just biding 'is time."

"Maybe." Daryl reached for the canvas sack at his brother's side, wanting to see for himself if Merle had brought back anything useful. "So, Martha Stewart, what'd y' bring me?"

*.*.*

Carol knew she was in trouble when Andrea came to her and asked, "Carol, do you think you could ask Daryl to come help move more stones around the fire pit? Hector and Jim have an idea to build it up where it can provide more heat with less light."

She stared at the woman with a deer-in-the-headlights look. "Er … why would you want me to ask?"

"Well, y'all are friends, right? I see you hanging out together all the time," Andrea went on innocently. "He's got such a chip on his shoulder, so I thought it would just be better coming from you."

"He does not!" Carol squeaked defensively. Her cheeks went up in flames as the other woman gave her a knowing look.

Andrea smirked. "It's ok if you don't want to. I suppose I could have Shane ask him."

Well …just …shit!

*.*.*

Yep, she was in trouble.

"What do you do with your leftovers when you don't cook with us?" Lori asked one morning as she scrubbed out one of the larger cookpots, her nose wrinkling at the congealed mess within.

Carol nearly dropped the spoon she'd been using to stir the cauldron of sickly sweet cream-o-wheat. "I don't usually have leftovers," she said, fighting back the color spreading up her neck. "Ed has quite the appetite."

Lori shot her a dubious look. "But Daryl usually gives you a larger portion of the game he kills, doesn't he? I'm sure Ed can't eat it all."

"I need to go check on Sophia!"

Carol bounded to her feet. There was no way she was going to tell the woman – no matter how close they'd grown over the past weeks – that she had begun bringing the brothers a portion of the meals she cooked for her family. Not even Ed knew she would ladle up two bowls – no matter what she prepared – and bring it to Daryl before she ever thought to feed her husband. It was the least she could do for the hunters considering how hard they worked to keep everyone fed. And besides, she thought with a grimace, she'd tasted Merle's cooking.

Lori's hand reached for Carol's, her gentle grasp preventing her friend from leaving. "Carol, it's ok … I'm not going to tell anyone. Carl mentioned it the other day, that's all."

Carol still couldn't meet Lori's gaze, panic beginning to rise. Please don't let Ed find out, she prayed.

*.*.*

"It wouldn't hurt y' t' pay attention, Merle. Y' might actually learn somethin'," Daryl said, grinning at his brother over the light of the campfire.

"Hafta admit … it does smell good," Merle nodded, moving one of his pawns forward on the board. His gaze swung to Sophia who sat across from him wearing the feathered headdress over her strawberry blonde locks. "How many spaces can this move again?"

She giggled as he frowned over the unfamiliar pieces. "It's not that hard," she said patiently. "My friend next door taught me in one afternoon. This one is a pawn and it can move forward one or two spaces …"

Carol stirred the gravy, making sure it wouldn't clump before she added the venison tenderloin back to the large cast iron skillet. She couldn't remember the last time she or her daughter had felt so relaxed and carefree. She was cooking dinner over Daryl's campfire, sharing his space, and enjoying his company … and she couldn't be happier. She wondered if she were truly free of Ed if this was what it would be like to be part of the family Daryl wanted to share with her.

"What're y' smilin' about, Mouse?" Merle called to her.

"I was just thinking how nice it is to be free for one evening," she answered honestly. Merle had been better since his brother had put his foot down and refused to do his bidding. He'd gained a new respect for him, and it seemed to be doing them both a world of good. She wasn't sure what would happen if Merle were to go on a run and find 'a fix' – as Daryl had put it once in an unguarded moment – but for now he was doing well, content to stay put with the quarry camp. She knew he would be reluctant to part ways with his brother. At the end of the world, they needed one another.

Daryl wrapped a towel around the handle of the pot he'd used to parboil some carrots and potatoes and passed it to her, so she could add the vegetables to the stew she was preparing. "How long is Ed going to be gone on this run? Did Shane say?"

"All I know is what Ed told me." Her voice lowered into a comical tone as she mimicked her husband's deep voice. "I don't trust those idiots to bring back the right brand," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Seriously, though, you cannot just run out to the corner store and buy a pack of cigarettes and a case of beer as if nothing is happening."

"Dumbass," Daryl muttered under his breath.

Merle shared a downright evil grin with his brother, one which Carol didn't miss. She dropped her spoon in the skillet, her lips parting on a small gasp. "You two planned this, didn't you?! How?"

"Don't get yer panties in a knot, Mouse," Merle chuckled.

"Just told Shane Ed should contribute. And since he's pretty much useless around camp … we thought he should go on a run," Daryl added, his mouth crooking with smug satisfaction.

Sophia swiped up the game pieces and stored them away in the storage compartment on the board, her mouth screwed up in a frown. She cast her eyes downward, feeling guilty for hoping her father wouldn't come back at all.

Merle looked at her worriedly. "Somethin' wrong, Peach?"

"Just tired," she offered lamely. She curled up on the blanket she'd been sitting on and laid her head in Merle's lap. The look of tenderness on the man's face nearly caused tears to form in Carol's eyes. She didn't know him well, but anyone with eyes could see the gentle kindness he held in his heart for her daughter. It was as if he had suffered something in his past which let him bond with Sophia, a shared pain and the need to help her through it.

It was a bittersweet smile which touched his lips as he rested his hand atop Sophia's soft hair. "It's ok, Peach. We'll save y' some supper."

Carol barely noticed when Daryl scooted closer to her, his voice rough. He seemed equally affected by this softer side of his imperturbable brother. "It's good t' see y' so happy an' smilin'." He rubbed his palms on his pants nervously. "Y'know it could be like this all th' time if you'd – "

She removed the hot skillet from the fire and set it aside with a final stir. "Don't," she whispered so only he could hear. "Please, don't." She couldn't tell him it was getting more and more difficult to tell him no. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to accept his offer. Despite his gruff exterior, she wanted nothing more than to give in and do as he wanted, to become a part of his family where she was wanted and cared for, where Sophia was treated well and wouldn't ever have to fear her father again. "Just let me have this one night where I know Sophia is safe and we're surrounded by people who I'm proud to call my friends."

Merle pulled a flask from the inside pocket of his vest and lifted it in salute to her. "I'll drink t' that!"

*.*.*

When it came down to it … the choice was taken from her hands and placed firmly into Daryl's. And now that she was his, he'd be damned if he'd let anyone or anything hurt her again. Especially Ed Peletier.