Chapter Four
A/N: WARNING: Violence, domestic abuse, people getting shot in the ass …etc, etc.
Those who'd gone on the supply run … Shane, Morales, Garcia, and Ed … were not in the best of moods when they returned the following day as the sun was making its way down over the edge of the horizon. Merle had brought them several turkeys from his morning hunt, and he frowned as he paused in his instructions on how to debone them for the spaghetti Carol had mentioned wanting to make from the can goods she'd been inventorying. "Oh, this don't look good," he said to his brother where they sat in the shade of Dale's camper.
Shane looked fit to be tied, and not even a welcoming smile from both Lori and Carl seemed to lift his spirits. Morales and Garcia looked as if someone had died and Ed looked smug. Daryl's lip curled up into a sneer as the man passed, making his way to his wife as the others were doing. He was pleased to see Ed's smile vanish as Carol turned away and gave her attention back to Merle. She'd deboned plenty of chickens in her life – turkeys couldn't be that different – but if being instructed gave her a few moments more away from her husband's company, she'd gladly play dumb.
Ed threw an arm around Carol's shoulders, pressing his weight onto her slender frame until she winced, making it clear he wouldn't be tolerating any of her excuses that evening. "C'mon, woman; you can cook dinner at our own fire."
"But I promised –"
"Now, Carol," he barked. "I don't give a damn what you promised these people. I'm yer husband and it's my needs that need seeing to."
"Ok … just a sec," she stammered, shooting a pleading look at Lori. "Do you think Sophia could maybe spend the night with Carl?"
Lori stared daggers at Ed before reaching out and giving Carol's hand a gentle squeeze. "Of course, she can, Carol. They'll have a great time."
"Thank you," she whispered in relief before Ed dragged her away.
"I swear that man is never going on a run with us again," Shane told Merle as Daryl climbed to his feet to follow after Carol. The hunter was unable to get the look of fear and revulsion she'd worn out of his head.
"What'd he do?" Merle asked.
Shane shook his head. "I'd think he had lead in his feet. Slowed us down at every turn and then thought he was too good to pull his weight. Sat in the truck while the three of us did all the work. Lazy fuck," the former lawman lamented. "Nevermind his dumb ass. We were able to find some things which hadn't been picked clean. We just need to get the truck unloaded. Should last us a couple more weeks and supplement what you and Daryl have been supplying in the way of meat."
Merle nodded to Daryl, silently telling him he'd help out while his brother kept an eye on Carol. Daryl kept his distance, but not so far he couldn't hear what Ed and Carol were talking about.
"We were worried when it got so late and y'all still weren't back yet," she said, stepping out of his domineering embrace, one arm wrapping protectively about her waist, the other rubbing roughly at the back of her neck with each step which brought her closer to their tent.
"That's whatcha get when you depend on a bunch of wetbacks," he sneered.
She took offense at his racist remark, but Carol knew better than to verbally disagree. Daryl was only a few feet behind them on the path and her skin hummed with awareness, knowing he was simply biding his time, waiting for Ed to step out of line. A few more steps and they were at their own little campsite. Her fierce protector was forced to move on to his own, and she quickly urged her husband into his favorite lawn chair, gathering a fresh pack of cigarettes and a warm beer for him. Even the lack of ice for their cooler didn't seem to dispel his urge to drink.
Carol hurriedly went through their small stash of canned goods and found some beef stew. It didn't matter what he ate, he never had a kind word for her hard work. She just hoped it would appease him. With a full belly, and the fatigue he was sure to have suffered on the run, perhaps he'd fall asleep early and leave her be.
It wasn't meant to be, however. She could see it in her husband's sloe-eyed gaze, the way he licked his lips in anticipation. A shiver skittered along her spine, a thousand angry bees buzzing beneath her skin, a warning of what was to come. She tried to remain as still as possible where she knelt there by the fire. It was all she could do not to flinch away from his touch as he let his fingers trail over the bare skin of her arm revealed by her sleeveless shirt. No, please no, her mind screamed. Please not where Daryl can see. It would be unbearable for him to witness her shame. She couldn't even chance a glance across the path to see if he was there in his silent angry vigil.
Carol forced a smile to her trembling lips as she raised her gaze to the man beside her. "I think I'll go get ready for bed," she intoned, praying he'd just let her go.
Ed's grin widened, and she felt her stomach roil with dread. He didn't speak, didn't rise to follow, but she knew not to let that lull her into a false sense of security. When he was silent was when he was most unpredictable. The blustering she could handle; the silence made her quake with fear. His dark eyes followed her as he took another long drag off the Marlboro clutched in his meaty fist, and she was sure his mind whirled with the debaucheries he planned to visit upon her healing flesh. She still carried his marks from the last time. She wondered if she'd ever once be able to look into a mirror without a fresh bruise on her pale skin.
Peletier guzzled down the last of his beer and stubbed out the cigarette beneath his shoe, his gaze narrowing as he watched the older brother return to his campsite carrying two bowls of whatever had been prepared at the communal campfire. It was unnerving the way the younger brother always seemed to be watching Ed and his family. Those Dixons had a way of looking at you, all quiet menace. It made him want to sleep with a knife under his pillow.
Carol was lying on her left side when he entered their tent, facing the back wall of the nylon structure, the thin blanket pulled all the way up to her chin. She could feel his gaze on her and fought down a shudder of revulsion. She startled when he spoke and knew the horrors of the night were only beginning for her.
"Here," Merle said, holding out a bowl of spaghetti to his brother. "Brought y' some dinner."
Daryl didn't even bother to look up, his narrow-eyed gaze focused on Carol's no-good husband. "Not hungry," he murmured.
Merle shook his head as he sat down next to him, setting the bowl close to the fire to keep it warm. "C'mon, lil brother, it's your favorite. Not as good as what mouse makes for us, but it's decent."
Daryl remained silent, wishing he had a bottle of Southern Comfort to dull the pain in his chest. It killed him to know she was so afraid, to know the big man had the potential to crush her body as well as her spirit. He knew better than anyone what it was like to have no hope for something better. She was so different when she didn't have Ed looking over her shoulder, all warm smiles and shy glances. He wished she could be like that all the time. But he couldn't help someone who didn't want it.
Merle polished off his bowl and sat back against the log, using it as a backrest for his aching muscles. "How long y' gonna let this go on?" he asked, loudly sucking his teeth.
"What?"
"Y'know what!" Merle grouched. "You cain't help somebody who don't want it. Are y' in love wi' her? Is that it? Does Darylina have a lady love?"
"Shut up!" Daryl shot him a quelling glance. He'd been wondering when his brother would start on him with the innuendo. "No … s'not like that, Merle."
"Know what yer problem is? Y' think y' can save everyone an' y' cain't. Stop making this about mama, boy! That fine woman over there is never gonna see y' for anythin' but what ya are … a filthy redneck not worth th' time o' day. Time t' move on, lil brother."
Daryl sat up straighter as he tuned out his brother's rant – he had to listen to it every time Merle got a bug up his ass and things weren't going his way – a soft whimper carrying on the mild breeze. "Shut up, Merle. Didja hear that?"
"Hear what? Great, now yer imaginin' things, for fuck's sake."
He wasn't imagining things. He was sure he'd heard Carol. Daryl took the second bowl of food Merle had brought and shoved it at his brother, hoping he'd eat and engage his mouth in something besides useless chatter. The sharp sound of flesh meeting flesh was unmistakable, and the hunter drew himself up onto his knees, his senses alert as he reached for his crossbow.
"Daryl, don't y' do it, boy! You'll bring down all kinds o' trouble on our heads," he hissed. "Then how're y' goin' t' be there for mouse an' her girl., huh?"
The color drained from his face as he heard her voice pleading for mercy. "Please, Ed, no!" A shrill scream … ripping cloth. Daryl was on his feet and halfway across the path when she fell through the tent enclosure.
"You're chasin' after those damn Dixons like a bitch in heat and you can't even have sex with your own husband? Fuckin' whore!" Ed bellowed, reaching down to where Carol cowered, one of her delicate hands tightly grasping her torn pajama top. He reared back with his ham-like fist, moving around her kicking legs to get a better angle to strike her. His heavy boot caught her hip, and she reeled under the force of the kick, curling in upon herself with a whimper of pain.
Daryl saw red, his rage consuming him. With a roar, he let a bolt loose from the crossbow, uncaring if his aim was true. He didn't care where it struck the man, nor did he care if he killed the bastard. All he cared about was saving the woman he called friend. He could hear Carol crying, Merle yelling as he pounded after him, and Ed yowling in pain as he tried to pull the arrow out of his left ass cheek.
Caught off guard, Ed wasn't prepared for Daryl's full weight to come hurtling out of the dark at him. The hunter mourned the loss of his precious bolt as it snapped in half, he but reveled at the pain it was causing his hated nemesis. He planted a knee in Ed's groin, ensuring more pain, his weight increasing pressure on the bolt's sharp tip as he ground the man into the dirt. And then the world came crashing out of orbit as he heard Carol cry out in pain as she tried to stand, her voice filled with despair as she called his name and begged him to stop.
There would be no stopping him now. He rained blow after blow over Peletier's face, feeling his knuckles tear open when they connected with bone. When he couldn't bear to hit him anymore, he grabbed the bastard's ears and slammed his head into the ground. With every blow he reminded himself of Carol's pain, Carol's suffering, Sophia's fear and sullenness. His vision was a raw red haze, fueling his desire to rip and tear.
"Daryl, please … you're killing him!" she cried as Merle and Shane – who'd been on guard duty and had heard the fight break out – struggled to pull him away from her husband.
"Geroffme!" he growled, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly with exertion and rage. "Get off me!"
"Not until you tell me what happened?!" Shane bellowed, trying to hold Daryl off from finishing the job.
"Fuckin' bastard shot me," Ed managed to utter from his prone position. He rolled to his side and spit out a mouthful of blood and a broken piece of a molar. "First I find out he's fuckin m' wife and then he shoots me in the ass with that infernal bow of his."
"What?" Dale sputtered, having come to diffuse the situation. His gaze swung to Carol who was still sitting where Ed had dumped her on the ground. She sported a split lip and a gash over her cheekbone from his heavy hand. "I'm sorry Ed, but I just can't believe that of Carol."
"I never touched her!"
"That's bullshit, and you know it!" This from Merle, outraged on his brother's behalf. "Don't matter what she was doin', though. It don't give 'im th' right t' use her as a punchin' bag."
Daryl jerked his arm out of Shane's grip and moved to crouch down next to Carol. He whipped his poncho over his head and wrapped it around her trembling shoulders. His icy gaze held just the right amount of menace to hold the rest of them at bay, no one wanting to get close to the manic hunter. Many more came to see what was going on and Daryl glared at Andrea when she was brave enough to kneel beside the injured woman.
"Oh, Carol, I'm so sorry, I – "
"Now you're sorry," he scoffed. "Where were y' when she was hidin' her bruises, huh?" He looked to those assembled. "All o' you! Where were y' when she needed help, when she was sufferin' in silence? Bunch of fuckin' hypocrites. It's all good if y' don't look at what's goin' on. Just bury your fuckin' heads in th' sand and hope he don't kill her."
"Daryl, now calm down, son," Dale said in that patient tone of his. "We're not going to ignore what happened here tonight."
Ed groaned. It was a wonder he hadn't lost consciousness. Carol was sure it had to do with that thick skull of his. "Yeah," he slurred. "He needs t' be arrested for assault."
Merle's laughter rang out through the camp. "Guess what, Ed?" he sneered. "Deputy Dawg here cain't arrest nobody. There's been a breakdown in government because of all this shit. The most y' can look forward t' is whatever th' group decides fer y'. Tell us Ed … how many friends y' made here in th' camp?"
"Me?!" Peletier gasped. "I'm the one he shot!"
"I was protectin' Carol," Daryl argued. "And I'll continue t' protect her from th' likes of you."
"Why don't we ask Carol what she wants?" Glenn suggested as he came to kneel next to Dale to check over Ed's wound. He grimaced, knowing it was going to be a little slice of hell when the broken shaft was removed.
Carol, chin already tucked tightly to her chest, quailed at being the center of attention. Her cheeks burned, and wished she could just flee into the woods, take Sophia and just run, but she knew Daryl – and likely Merle too – would come after them. She pulled the poncho more securely about her trembling form and slowly raised her gaze to her friend who wanted nothing more than to protect her, to save her. She could see it in his guarded gaze, that need for her to choose him.
"D-Daryl?" she asked, silently cursing herself for sounding like the little mouse Merle claimed her to be. "I-Is your offer still open?"
Some of the tension drained off of him, his shoulders dipping almost imperceptively in relief. Finally! He gave her a stiff nod. He turned to glower at the man who'd caused her such infinite misery. "Y' hear that, Ed Peletier? She ain't yours no more. You can consider this your walkin' papers."
"You can't take my wife!" Ed's bellow turned into a groan as he tried to move.
"I'm not takin' her, y' stupid son of a bitch … she's choosin' t' leave y'."
Dale pushed his bucket hat further back on his head and rubbed a hand over his brow. "Carol, are you sure this is what you want?"
She nodded.
"Fine, go, y' fuckin' bitch! But you ain't takin' Sophia."
Merle kicked him in the side, scowling down at him. "Don't talk about mouse that way!"
A disjointed sob tore loose from her throat, her panicked azure eyes filling with tears as they met Daryl's. "As if we'd let her stay with y'. She needs her mama, not some abusive prick like you," Daryl spat.
Shane rubbed a hand over the back of his neck as he shifted from foot to foot. "Alright, so this is how it's gonna be? Carol, are you sure you want to stay with the Dixon brothers?"
"Daryl's my friend. He and Merle are good men, and I know we'll be in safe hands with them," she said to the former lawman.
He accepted her decision. "Well, let's get Ed patched up before he bleeds out."
"What're we goin' t' do with th' bastard after that?" Merle wanted to know.
"We can't just kick him out. You know what's out there," Dale said, the whole situation leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
Daryl picked up his crossbow and slung it over his shoulder, then bent to scoop Carol gently into his arms, careful of any injuries she may have acquired that he couldn't see. "I don't give two fucks what y' do with 'im, but if I catch him anywhere near Carol or her daughter … I will kill him."
Shane scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed as he dropped to his haunches outside the tent Lori shared with her son. He called to her, weariness heavy in his voice, but who wasn't weary in this new world with the real threat of danger around every corner. She appeared almost instantly, her entire upper body leaning from the enclosure.
"Hey," she greeted, her eyes wide. "What was with all the yelling? I thought I heard a woman scream."
He kept his voice low, not wanting to wake the children inside. "Everything's settled now, but it's nothing good. How are the kids? They asleep?"
"Yeah, they're fine … sound asleep." Lori reached out and laid her hand on his forearm as she searched his face. "Now tell me what's happening."
Shane figured he might as well tell her the whole story since everyone would know by morning anyway. "Ed accused Carol of sleeping around with the Dixon brothers and beat her up."
Lori gasped, her hand rising to cover her mouth in horror. She glanced over her shoulder at Sophia curled up in a spare sleeping bag, thankful the girl had been there instead of in her parents' tent. She shouldn't have to witness such things. "Is she alright?"
He snorted. "She's gonna be bruised up for a bit, but I don't see Ed laying hands on her again. Not after Daryl shot a bolt through his ass and took Carol away from him."
"Wait … what?! He shot Ed?" she asked incredulously. "Did he kill him?" She'd never understood why Carol stayed with him, and in her book, his loss wouldn't be mourned.
Shane didn't miss the bloodthirsty note in her voice. He knew Lori had gotten closer to Carol in the last month as they'd shared chores and the budding friendship between their children. "No, he's alive. Daryl made Carol choose … she could either stay with Ed or accept Daryl's protection. She chose Daryl." Again, he rubbed his big hand over his face. "Did you know about them?"
Lori arched a brow. "They're not like that, Shane. There you go jumping to conclusions," she scoffed. "You can't believe Ed and his wild accusations. Carol and the brothers are just friends."
"I didn't think Daryl Dixon had friends. The chip on his shoulder is bigger than that iceberg which sunk the Titanic. The only person who could make a worse friend would be that brother of his."
"Why? Because they're prejudiced, racist rednecks?" she asked, having heard him say that more than once about the Dixons. "Hmm, Deputy Dawg?"
"You know I hate it when you call me that," he grumbled.
She shot him a pointed look. "Because I know you were a good cop? Well, I'm sure they don't like it when you call them rednecks. See my point?"
"Yeah."
She switched gears, wanting to hear the end of the story. "So, what happened to Ed? I'm sure he wasn't too happy to have her defect to the enemy camp, so to speak."
Shane shook his head, still reeling from the night's events. "Dale and Glenn are patching him up. Not only did Daryl shoot him, he also beat the crap out of him. So, even if Daryl allowed Ed near Carol, Ed wouldn't have the strength to touch her."
"I'm glad. She's suffered enough," Lori said quietly, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off a chill.
"You knew she was being abused?"
"Everyone knew. We just didn't do anything about it. We should all feel ashamed of ourselves."
He nodded, looking away guiltily.
"What are we going to do about Ed once he recovers? I really don't think it's a good idea to let him stay here with us."
"Dale's against making him leave, so I guess we're stuck with him," he said.
"This is going to blow up in our faces, mark my words." She yawned and looked back at the children who slept on peacefully. One last question lingered at the forefront of her mind before she said goodnight to him, however. "Shane? Did you by any chance take Daryl's crossbow away from him? For shooting Ed?"
Shane snorted. "Do I look crazy to you?"