Chapter Ten

A/N: This chapter is full of triggers, so here's your warning. Carol shares a piece of her past with Daryl, and some of the things she's suffered at Ed's hands. Might want to skip this chapter (or at least the first part) if you're easily triggered. Thanks, as always, for reading! You guys rock!

Carol held tightly to her little bundle of dirty clothes wrapped up in her towel as she followed Merle and Sophia up the path. Her eyes darted surreptitiously to her side where Daryl walked, sneaking glances every few steps. She'd somehow made him uncomfortable with her confession, and now she didn't know how to fix the tension which had risen between them.

Merle glanced over his shoulder, a wicked grin curling his thin lips as he took in Daryl's posture and the stiff set of his shoulders. "C'mon, you two … this ain't no time fer a romantic moonlit stroll. Ain't no tellin' what's lurkin' in those woods."

"Shut up, y' asshole," the younger Dixon growled, shooting his brother the finger. He felt his face heat, looking over at Carol as she laughed softly beside him. "He don't bother you with all his innuendos an' crap?"

She gave him her full attention, the left side of her mouth still quirked up in a smile, happy to see his unease was fading. "Why should I? He was only teasing. Siblings do that, I'm told."

His pace slowed even more, allowing Merle and Sophia to go on. She adjusted her own gait, remaining at his side. "You an only child? No brothers or sisters out there lookin' for y'?"

Carol shook her head. "Nope. No one. Not even friends."

Daryl stopped, taking her right hand in his left and pulling her into his side without a thought, only the need he felt to offer her comfort urging him on. "Surely y' have friends out there wonderin' where y' are."

They were barely moving now, simply ambling along the path, focused on their conversation. It made her feel warm to be so close to him, and not just physically. She could feel him letting go, letting her in, drawing her closer and strengthening the bond of friendship which had formed between them. It gave her the courage to share herself – her true self – with him, instead of the woman Ed had made her into.

"My parents … I was never really close to them. They had their own lives from the beginning. I was a mistake, one they never failed to harp on. They were happy when I met Ed, just as charmed by him as I was. I think they were just glad to be rid of me," she said in a dull tone, nothing like the soft voice she usually used when in his presence. "Sometimes I wonder if I married Ed because I was so unhappy at home. It wasn't bad at first, our marriage, not until after that first year, I guess."

Daryl listened quietly, afraid if he said anything, she'd withdraw into herself again. He squeezed her hand to let her know he was listening, a gentle touch which betrayed none of the rage he felt tightening his chest.

"He was laid off … the first time he hit me, that was his excuse. I thought it would be ok. It was a one-time thing. God, I was so stupid," she retorted with a bitter edge.

"You're not stupid," he growled lowly. "You were afraid. Being scared don't mean you're stupid."

She swiped angrily at her tears, keeping her gaze on the path so she wouldn't have to look at the accusation surely evident in his eyes. Why didn't you leave him? Why did you stay? You must've enjoyed being his whipping post! "Yes, Daryl, I was stupid … for staying. I just thought it would get better when we moved to Atlanta. He had a new job, better pay, a nice house …"

"But?"

Carol bit her lip, silence falling between them. She gripped his hand harder, refusing to let her fears overwhelm her. Ed couldn't touch her anymore, and it was all due to the man at her side. She knew he had his own emotional scars and how hard it must be to let her in. She had to show him how much she wanted to let him in as well. She wasn't going to hide from him.

"It just got worse," she continued. "He wouldn't let me work, kept me at home to take care of the house and to make sure I had dinner on the table when he came home. I wasn't allowed to have any money. He handled the shopping and the bills. He even started buying my clothes, where I had no choice but to submit or go naked. I was so alone in my misery; I didn't even realize I was pregnant with Sophia until my second trimester. When he found out, the beatings stopped … at least until we knew for sure I wasn't carrying the son he wanted."

Daryl felt his face heat as rage rolled over the length of his spine. His hand tightened painfully on hers and she yelped. "I'm sorry," he apologized, lifting her hand in both of his as he stopped on the path, his thumbs gently smoothing over her mistreated digits. "You should've slit the bastard's throat in his sleep."

"I thought about it. Believe me, I thought about it."

"I can understand now why you wouldn't want to give Soph a brother or sister," he said, resuming their trek back to the tent.

Carol sighed and shook her head, her eyes misty as she looked over at his strong profile. "It's not that I didn't want more children, but how could I bring another child into that mess? I was already terrified he'd one day turn his abuse on Sophia. Ed made sure I couldn't anyway."

She nearly plowed into his back as he made his way around the truck and stepped under the tree where they'd pitched the tent. "What?! What d'you mean he made sure of it?!" he hissed, pressing into her personal space until his brow rested against hers.

Carol gasped, her hands rising to his upper arms to brace herself for his anger. She knew he'd never hurt her, but his rage was something to behold, all quiet menace and deadly threat, and she couldn't help the little thrill of fear which shot through her. "Daryl …" she breathed, pressing closer to wrap her arms around his neck, her fingers kneading gently into the corded muscles along his nape. "Daryl, please," was all she could think to say. Please what? Please hold me? Kiss me? Don't go over and kill Ed with your bare hands even if he does deserve it? she thought frantically.

Her heart thundered a pounding tempo against her ribs, but she didn't let go. "Tell. Me!" came his feral growl, his breath fanning hotly against her ear, his hands clenching into fists so tightly his knuckles cracked.

The wind picked up, the rain which had been threatening all day nearly upon them. She shivered, whether from the dramatic drop in temperature or his close proximity, she didn't know. His hands came up to tentatively settle at her waist. That light touch was all she needed for the rest of the wall to come down. With a brush of his fingertips he was assuring her of his protection, his friendship, his loyalty to her, and she was able to let go of her pain and fight her way free of the fear which had been so much a part of her life for what seemed like an eternity.

"Tell me," he coaxed, some of the heat leaving his voice as he felt her relax against him.

Carol burrowed into his chest, unable to meet his gaze, her arms slipping from his shoulders to wrap about his waist. "I was leaving him. I'd found where he'd hidden the bank statements. I took his debit card, had his pin, the keys to the car and a bag hidden under the stairs. Thought he was asleep … " She somehow found it easier to speak when she didn't have to look into his face and see the horror written there.

"Fuckkkk," he cursed, pulling her closer, one hand coming up to cradle her head against his heart. He was already fucking everything up, just as he'd predicted. Instead of offering her the comfort she deserved, he was only adding to her pain.

"I didn't know I was that close to the top of the stairs. He grabbed me. I don't even remember the slap … just falling. I never thought I would stop falling. God, it hurt so bad … so much blood. When I woke up in the hospital I thought I'd lost her. I'd been unconscious for three days. Somehow, she survived the fall, but … " Her voice was flat, emotionless, otherwise she would have broken down at the thought of losing her daughter and there would have been no way to stop the tears. "I can't have any more children, Daryl. It's just one more thing he's taken from me."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his thumb stroking gently over the short hair at her nape. "I feel like an asshole for makin' you tell me all that."

Carol snorted and pulled out of his arms. "And how else are we going to get to know each other better, huh?"

He nodded, following her to the tent flap which Merle had left unzipped for them. "Wait here a sec," he said, slipping inside to grab his pack. She hadn't moved, trusting him to come back to her. He gestured for her to move over to his usual spot between the log and fire pit, quickly following her. "He's never goin' t' be able t' hurt y' again, Carol."

She tilted her head to the side, so she could study him better in the dim glow of the fire. "I know that, Daryl. You and Merle are just itching for an excuse to kill him."

Daryl snorted and poked at the muted embers, silently cursing the wind. She noticed he didn't deny her claim in the least. "I'm serious, woman … stop fuckin' laughin'." He reached into his pack and pulled out a box, sitting it on her lap. Her gaze shifted upwards, wariness making her squint at him. "G'on, open it."

His expression reminded her of a kid on Christmas morning. She was sure then about the contents. It had to be a weapon … a weapon as a gift? But then that just went to prove to her the state of the world in case she'd forgotten. Slowly, she lifted the lid of the cedar box, her eyes widening as she took in the gleaming blade and polished ivory handle. The blade had to have been at least six inches.

"Like it?" he asked uncertainly, glancing between her and the knife. "I'll sharpen it for y' tomorrow when I get back from hunting. Merle'll be with y' most of the morning."

"I'm sure he's thrilled," she murmured dryly. The elder Dixon easily grew bored following her and Sophia about to ensure Ed didn't bother them. "I've got a ton of laundry to do."

He frowned, a furrow appearing between his brows. "Not too much. You're still healin'. Day after, I'm takin' y' huntin' with me."

"What? Daryl, I know nothing about hunting. I'm going to scare off all the game," she groaned. It was imperative to their survival what he provided for them. She didn't need to go tromping after him through the brush making enough noise to bring a herd of walkers after them.

Daryl leaned back against the log behind him and rummaged once again through his pack, ignoring her protests. "No arguments. You go where I go. End of discussion."

Carol opened her mouth to do just that, not appreciating his high-handedness one bit, only to have him shove a piece of semi-melted chocolate onto her tongue. "Oh. My. Gawd! Where'd you get chocolate?!"

He smirked and held the rest of the candy bar out of her reach. "Marty keeps one in the register. She's got low blood sugar."

"Shame on you," she chuckled, though not in the least bit serious. Not if she could enjoy something she never thought she'd taste again. Carol moaned as it melted on her tongue. "That's just soooo good."

"Jesus! What's goin' on out here? I swear if y'all wake Peach and she starts natterin' away in my ear again, I'ma skin y' both!" Merle hissed as he stuck his head through the flap to tell them off.

Daryl tossed a handful of Andes mints at his brother's head.

A slow grin spread across Merle's face, his blue eyes twinkling. "What'd y' do t' mouse? She looks like she's about t' –"

"Don't y' say it, asshole!"

Carol laughed at the both of them and then leaned over Daryl's lap to grab one of the chocolate mints he'd thrown at Merle. "G'nite, Merle."

He snatched up the remainder of the chocolates and ducked back inside with one more warning to keep it down. "Don't do nothin' I wouldn't."

Daryl snorted and split the rest of the candy bar with her. "There ain't nothin' he wouldn't do. Sick fuck," he mumbled.

"He's trying, Daryl. It seems he's mellowed since y'all have been here at the quarry," she contemplated aloud. "He wasn't very nice when you first got here."

He nudged her shoulder with his own when she fell silent. "You're right. If he hadn't changed a bit, I never would've let Sophia get close t' him." The wind picked up again and Carol rose to her knees to get ready to go inside. "Wait. I have somethin' else for y'."

She sat back down, steadily munching on her treat. "You're going to spoil me and then there'll be no living with me, Mr. Dixon," she teased, eagerly anticipating the next item he pulled out of that magic sack of his. Her hands trembled as she stared down at the handgun he laid upon her lap. "A gun?"

"No," he hedged, taking out another and handing it to her. "Two guns. Y' need your own weapons, Carol."

"Couldn't I just use yours?"

He clucked his tongue against the back of his teeth and shot her a look of disgust. "Woman, how are y' still alive?"

"Because you're my friend and you look out for me," she shot back stubbornly. "Daryl, seriously, I hate guns."

He was swiftly losing patience with her. "Carol … suck it up. This is th' kinda attitude that's gonna get y' killed. There's too many horrors in th' world now, real things for y' t' be scared of. Guns ain't one of 'em. Weapons are what's gonna keep y' alive … keep your girl alive. If you're not gonna do it for yourself, then y' damn sure better do it for her."

Carol wrapped her hand around the grip on the butt of the .45 caliber pistol and brought it up for a closer look, the words 'chief's special' emblazoned on the side. As much as she hated to admit it, the weapon felt right in her hand. "You'll teach me? I don't want to take any chances with Sophia's safety."

"We'll start on our huntin' trip. By th' time we get back, y' should have a basic knowledge of how to shoot. Merle's gonna work with Sophia with her bow too." He brought out the last item he'd gotten for her, the thick leather belt he'd chosen to hold her weapons. He'd already attached a holster for each of her pistols, a pouch for extra ammo, and the sheath to store her knife. "I got her a knife too," he added in an aside. "Don't want her to get caught off guard. There will be times when she can't always use her bow, and I don't want her without a way to defend herself."

Carol watched him stow her gear back in the pack and set it in her lap. It was now her responsibility, and she found herself excited he would be the one to train her. He'd already saved her in so many ways. Now he was going to make sure she and Sophia would survive.

Daryl prodded the dying fire with a long stick, his gaze reflecting the tiny flame. "You should get some rest," he mumbled.

"What about you?"

"I'll take first watch. I don't trust those yahoos down there," he said, pointing to where Glenn sat atop the RV with Dale's rifle. "Merle will relieve me in a few hours."

Carol crawled to the tent flap, shivering over the nip in the air, unable to resist one last glance over her shoulder at her enigmatic friend. The world as she knew it was in chaos, yet she'd never felt more alive, or freer. And it was all due to one hot-headed redneck who cared more than he was willing or able to admit.

*.*.*

Daryl face-planted directly onto his pillow as he crawled into the tent. Merle had relieved him, finally, and all he could think of was climbing into his bedroll for some much-needed sleep. Not that he'd get it. Sleep had never been his friend. Letting himself find slumber was simply asking for the nightmares, the terrors of his mind finding their way into his consciousness. It was a part of him he wished he could banish, but it was like his daddy had always said … you can wish wit' one hand an' shit in th' other, boy. He laid his crossbow down at his side between his bedroll and the tent flap, there near to hand should he need it.

He was bone weary, the stress of his hunt that morning, followed by the run they'd made to Marty's, weighing heavily upon him. He rotated his neck as he laid on his back, the bones popping loudly. He was getting too old for this crap, he thought miserably. Closing his eyes, he focused his senses, his ears prickling as he listened to Sophia's soft snores and Merle's muted curses where he sat outside under the awning at the front of the tent. Merle hated the rain for the simple fact it dulled the senses and obscured hidden dangers. It left him nervous, and Merle Dixon did not like to be nervous. Especially when he was responsible for others. It was doubly hard when those others happened to be his family.

Family … the word skated around the outer rim of his mind, his eyes opening to land on Carol where she slept at his side. He raked a hand over his face, an ache in his chest as he remembered her story from earlier. What the hell was he going to do about her? All his life, he'd built up walls to keep people out, only allowing Merle to get close. What was it about this woman which left him feeling so vulnerable? It mattered to him now what happened to her, to her daughter. Carol mattered. It wasn't just a physical attraction – and he wasn't about to lie to himself and say it wasn't there – but something about her which burrowed deep into his battered soul and begged for him … all of him.

Daryl groaned softly and slammed his head back onto the pillow, wincing when he felt the ground beneath the canvas flooring. He couldn't allow himself to let her in, couldn't form a more intimate attachment than he already had. It would hurt too much if he failed her. He would keep his distance and protect her as best he could, teach her and hope she was able to learn to survive. She didn't need to be burdened with his past when she had so much trauma in her own, and he just didn't think he'd ever have the courage to bare himself before her. He didn't know if he could stand the pity in her eyes, not from her.

Yanking himself back from the dark place in his head, he rolled onto his left side and closed his eyes, concentrating on the sound of the rain against the tent, hoping it would lull him to sleep. It very nearly worked, too, but then he heard Carol shift under the sleeping bag she shared with Sophia, the nylon making a soft susurrus of sound. She was restless, making him want to reach out to put a calming hand over hers, to squeeze her fingers and assure her she was safe, to stave off the nightmares causing her distress. Unconsciously, he scooted back, his bedroll moving with him, closing the distance which separated them. He didn't touch her, but surely his presence would soothe her, wouldn't it?

A tiny whimper rose to meet his ears, and he squeezed his eyes shut, turmoil rife within him as he tried to think of something to do to ease her back into a deeper sleep. Damnit, he wasn't equipped to handle this, and asking Merle was just out of the fucking question! He listened to her shifting for a moment more before a startling wave of gooseflesh erupted on his skin brought on by her warm breath at the back of his neck. He fought off the images assaulting his mind and the panic rising in his chest, his hands clenching into fists where they were clasped tightly over his chest. It wasn't time to think of his own tortured past and his father's cruel hands. This was Carol. That thought kept him still, letting her find her spot in his back and the comfort she sought.

Her sweet sigh was music to his ears as she pressed her brow to his nape, her body curving into his. He took a deep breath, the tightness in his chest easing. Again, he wondered, why she and she alone had the ability to bring him such peace with the simplest of touches. It didn't matter, though. He would eventually figure it out … sooner or later. But for now, he was able to slip into sleep for the first time in years without the terror of his nightmares revisiting.