Chapter Twenty-Three

Daryl shared a puzzled look with Carol before they both hurried down the hallway to Marty's room. He really hoped the girl hadn't found some sex toy that he'd have to explain. Oh, hell no! That shit wasn't happening. What went on between that woman and her partners was no one's business but her own, and he couldn't see himself living through the embarrassment of educating a twelve-year-old girl on the depravities of the world. Not to mention … Carol would hand him his balls. He winced visibly, not knowing what to expect.

She beamed at him when he entered the room. In one hand she held a broken cuff - which he was certain belonged to the set they'd left on a rooftop in Atlanta - and in the other, a very familiar penlight with the initials M.D. scratched into the handle. It meant the world to his brother, simply because Daryl had bought it for him as a birthday gift. It was one of those little multi-tool things with a penlight, screwdriver, bottle opener and nail file. It wasn't much, but Merle had always liked it.

"Don't you see," Sophia gushed. "He was here. He came to Marty for help."

"Daryl, look," Carol said, pointing to the trashcan next to the bed. It was full of bloody bandages. "He must've hurt himself getting out of the cuffs."

Daryl remembered the broken screwdriver and mangled chain which had connected the cuffs and could only imagine what had happened. There was no doubt, though, that Merle had injured himself. "Well he can't be too bad off if he ain't here."

"And there's this too," Sophia said, holding out a folded piece of paper with Daryl's name scrawled across the front.

He looked down at the chicken scratch which could only be his brother's sorry excuse for handwriting and reached out a tentative hand to take the note from the girl. Carol gave him a nod of encouragement, and he slowly opened it, not sure if he even wanted to know what it said.

Lil brother -

I don't know if'n you'll even get this, but I wanted y' t' know I ain't dead. Sorry t' disappoint. Them bastards who left me there are gonna be mighty pissed, I'm sure. Got more than a few words fer Officer Friendly.

Marty patched me up, but we cain't stay. Her brothers are missin' and now I owe her, so I gotta help 'er look. I'm gonna swing back by the quarry t' see if'n yer still there instead of back at th' bunker tryin' t' read this.

I'll catch up t' y'. Have y' ever known me not t' find y'? Tell Peach t' stay safe. I'll kick yer pansy ass if'n y' let sum'thin' happen t' her. Keep yer head up, Darylina.

-MD

"He's alive," he breathed, letting relief wash through him. "Digger an' Randy done gone missin' and he's tryin' t' help Marty find them. Said he'll catch up t' us."

Carol let her own relief show as Sophia bounced on the balls of her feet. It was the happiest she'd seen the girl in days. "See, baby, I told you he'd be alright."

"I know, Mama, but now we have proof."

Carol leaned down and pressed a kiss to her daughter's brow. "I'm going to see about dinner. You mind Daryl while you're on watch."

Daryl watched Carol leave the room and then was nearly knocked on his ass as Sophia threw herself at him, her spindly arms wrapping around his waist. "Th' hell!?"

Sophia grinned sheepishly and let him go. "Sorry … I'm just really glad he's ok. D'you think he'll come back here? Can we wait a few days?"

Daryl frowned, not wanting to get her hopes up. There was no sure way to tell if Merle would come back to the bunker or how long it would take to find Marty's brothers. "A few days, I guess." It was all he could promise her at the moment.

*.*.*

Daryl drew deeply on his cigarette and slouched down on the side of the roof. It was quiet - had been quiet for a while - but he wanted to get his shift done early. He had his reasons. He wanted everyone to get done with all their bitching and complaining before he had to go down there and listen to it. He wanted to go down and have dinner with Carol and Sophia and then fall into a nice deep sleep for a couple of hours. Was that too much to ask? Of course, it was. Instead he had to listen to Rick and Shane argue about where they'd go next, who got the bigger bedroom, what they'd do if the owner came back or whatever else they could piss and moan about.

He exhaled a cloud of smoke and watched Sophia make another turn along the perimeter of the roof. She was taking her watch very seriously for a twelve-year-old pre-adolescent. It wasn't fair to the children, having to grow up so fast.

She settled along the edge next to him, and he had to willfully force himself not to scoot away from her. It was just when Sophia turned that wide eyed blue stare on him - much like her mother - it felt like she was attempting to make off with his soul. "Got somethin' on your mind?" he asked softly, eyeing her with a sideways glance.

Sophia shrugged, letting her fingers caress the ebony finish of her bow. "Perhaps. You feel like talkin'?"

He looked blankly at her. What were they supposed to talk about? She was twelve, for fuck's sake. If it wasn't about her bow or watch or survival training, what could they possibly have to discuss? "'Bout what?"

"Mama," she said matter-of-factly. "How long have you liked her?"

Daryl frowned. "Y' know how long I -"

Sophia shook her head. "Not as a friend, silly. I meant how long have you like liked her."

He shot up off the ledge and stalked away, doing his own sweep. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck as he felt her gaze follow him. He figured if he ignored her, she might give up on her line of questioning. Not her, though. Sophia had patience few adults possessed.

"It's ok if you do, y'know."

One thing he'd found when dealing with the Peletier women was he was shit when it came to conversation. If he wasn't tongue-tied like an untried youth, he nearly always lost his temper. "You're imaginin' things, kid, seein' stuff that ain't there," he scoffed.

She chewed thoughtfully at her cuticle. Dear Christ, now she was picking up his bad habits. "Really?" she asked with an innocent smile. "So, that wasn't you with her in the shower last night?"

He gaped at her, stunned. "What!?"

Sophia tilted her head to the side, her smile growing wider. "Don't try to pretend either. I saw two bodies behind the glass when I poked my head through the door. I know it was you."

He tried to think of a lie, but came up empty. An excuse? One perhaps she'd believe? Fuckkkkk! "I was drunk, and … um …."

"Just happened to fall into the shower with her?" she giggled.

"It wasn't like that," he protested, feeling the need to defend Carol's honor. "She hurt herself on the soap dispenser thing and I was trying to see if she was bleeding or not. I wasn't bein' a pervert jus' tryin' t' see her naked!" He sighed mournfully. "Then I saw her scars."

Sophia grimaced and balled her little fists in her lap. "We're lucky my dad didn't kill her. Was she upset? That you saw?"

Daryl shook his head and sat down once more at her side. "Not after I showed 'er mine. Yer mama's not th' only one t' have 'em."

She cast him a quizzical look. "Did you tell her you love her?"

"No!"

"Why the hell not?" Sophia arched a brow at him. "What's the problem? You love her; she loves you … it's really not that hard to figure out what comes next. Or at least that's what happens in those cheesy romance novels Mama reads." She fluttered her lashes and made kissy sounds. He looked horrified.

"Y' better stay outta y' mama's books," he hissed. "And what goes on between me an' her ain't none o' your business."

Sophia sighed dramatically. "I guess I should be talking to her about all this instead, huh?"

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Jus' because. I swear y' can be as manipulative as m' brother," he grumbled. Gawd, what was he going to do with the minx? "Carol thinks I was too drunk t' remember what happened last night, an' if y' don't mind, I'd like t' keep it that way."

Sophia gaped at him. "But why? If you care for her -"

"She don't want me, Soph. I'm jus' her friend, s'all. Leave it alone ok?" he murmured in a dejected tone which brooked no objection. She could've sat up there all night and spent her time better chatting up the moon.

Merle was right. They were both too stubborn to see what was right in front of them.

*.*.*

Carol made herself eat the food she'd prepared. She'd found some ground venison mixed with pork sausage in the freezer and made hamburger steak for their supper. It had been easy and delicious even if she had to use dehydrated onions instead of sweet Vidalias. Instant potatoes weren't so bad when topped with the rich brown gravy covering the steaks and canned green beans had never tasted so good seasoned with crispy bacon. Marty was a treasure and she just hoped she'd get the chance to thank her for her hospitality.

Yet no matter how good the food was, she couldn't get Jenner's last little bombshell out of her mind. How was she supposed to tell them? They had every right to know, and keeping things from them was only going to make the existing animosity between them worse. Was it something she wanted the children to know? Should she talk to Daryl about it first? He listened to her, treated her as if her thoughts and opinions were important. She'd always been told how to act, to think, to submit, and she had to admit she liked the way he treated her. With respect. But would the others be so quick to believe her?

T-Dog and Glenn were on watch after having eaten, and everyone else was taking turns in the two bathrooms. Carl and Sophia were quietly discussing what DVD they wanted to watch before bed. It would be the perfect time to slip off with Daryl and have a private conversation, to get his advice before she let the cat out of the bag.

"Why ain't y' eatin'?" he asked around a mouth full of potatoes. "Food's prob'ly stone cold by now."

Her lips twisted into a grimace as she stared down at her plate. "I need to talk to you about something, Daryl … before I decide to tell the others."

He set his empty plate on the coffee table and took hers to set atop it, seeing as how she wasn't likely to eat anymore. "What's wrong? Did somethin' happen while I was on watch?" He was fairly calm. He didn't think Carol would bring up what had gone on between them in the middle of the living room where just anyone could listen in. At least he hoped not.

"Remember when Dr. Jenner held me back?" she asked, staring down at her fidgeting hands. "He told me something, and I need to tell everyone, but I don't know how."

Daryl took her in, her bloodless face, how she wouldn't meet his eyes, the fidgeting she did when she was trying to hide her fear. "Don't be scared, Carol. It's jus' me. Y'know y' can tell me anythin' an' I ain't gonna judge y'." It surprised her when he pulled her closer into his body where they sat side by side on the couch. "There … now ain't nobody can hear whatcha gotta say."

Carol sighed, reveling in the closeness he shared with her. He wrapped her in warmth and chased away most of her fears. "He … he told me we all turn."

Daryl shot her a puzzled frown. "Well, yeah, we already know that. Y' get bit an' y' turn."

She shook her head, her wide cerulean eyes rising to meet his steady gaze. "No … he said it doesn't matter if we're bitten or not. When we die, we turn."

"Shit," he breathed, raking a hand through his shaggy hair. "Why th' hell would he tell y' that!?"

"I don't know … unless it's true," she whispered, looking around them to see if anyone had overheard, but the others were all involved now in choosing a DVD. It had been too long since they'd had even a semblance of normal. "Maybe he was trying to warn us? We have a better chance of surviving if we're armed with knowledge which can help us."

"Well I coulda gone on dumb, ignorant and stupid a while longer," he grumbled.

Carol bit her lip in indecision. "Do you think we should tell them?"

"Oh, yeah," he drawled sarcastically. "It'll give Rick an' Shane somethin' else t' argue about. Should be loads o' fun."

*.*.*

"He could've been lying," Lori argued. "He'd already tried to lock us in with him to die."

Daryl sat quietly on the couch, listening to the group discuss the news Jenner had given Carol before they'd left the CDC. The only thing holding him in place was Carol's soft hand twined in his and her head resting against his shoulder. She was calmer now after telling everyone, and she was right. It was information which needed to be shared. She couldn't have in good conscience kept it from them.

Rick pulled his wife back against him and wrapped an arm about her thin shoulders. "Why would he lie? The man was fixing to die, Lori. He didn't have a reason to lie to us."

"Maybe he was trying to scare us," Shane offered with a shrug.

Dale leaned his head back against the loveseat he shared with Andrea. "Whatever reason Jenner may've had to tell Carol; I don't think he was lying. I believe he thought this was the last bit of information he could provide in our bid for survival. We need to take it at face value."

"Yeah, but -"

Daryl cut Shane off. He was tired and aggravated, and all their blathering was grating on his last nerve. "But nothin'! Man, the only way we gonna prove 'im wrong is for one of us t' off themselves. Y' wanna volunteer? I know I don't have a problem if y' wanna sacrifice yerself for the good o' th' group. Carol? Y' gotta problem with Shane offin' 'imself?"

"Daryl, stop," she chuckled. "No one is offing themselves to test the theory. But I for one do not want to become one of those things … Ever!"

T-Dog and Glenn, having been pulled from watch to hear the news, both shook their heads. "I don't either," Glenn said firmly.

"Y'all best look like promising to put me down before I ever get a chance to turn into one of those geeks," T intoned.

Sophia scooted back against the couch where she sat with Carl on the floor, and rested her head on Daryl's knee. "So, we make a pact. If anyone dies, we make sure they stay dead. For the good of the group."

The others looked solemn, but determined. "I agree with Sophia," Rick spoke up. It was the first time the girl had smiled at him since he'd met her. "For the good of the group."

"Can we watch our movie now?" Carl whined.

*.*.*

Two movies later … Daryl's face scrunched up in disgust as he stared at the TV screen. How could they've gone from a nauseatingly cute tale about a little clownfish and then a movie about superheroes to a zombie horde who had a group of yahoos trapped in an underground facility? He was beginning to question Sophia's taste in movies. "What th' hell is this? What happened t' the one with th' big green dude?"

Sophia grinned up at him where she sat on his left beneath a thin blanket. "That one ended while you were making more popcorn," she explained. "This one's about a virus that spreads through this facility called a hive. Kinda like it was at the CDC, and they have to try and get out before time runs out. You ever seen it?"

He reached for another handful of buttery goodness, trying not to move around too much and wake Carol where she slept against his shoulder. He'd tried to get her to go to bed when she'd started nodding off halfway into the first movie, but she'd wanted to stay there on the couch with her little family. She'd been more exhausted than she'd thought though.

"No, I ain't never seen it. Ain't there enough horrors in th' world without havin' t' watch it on TV?" Not that he cared what was on the screen. He was much too happy just laying back in the recliner built into the couch with Carol nestled into his side. "This crap's gonna give y' nightmares," he complained.

Carl let out a loud snore where he dozed with his head on his father's lap. Lori had passed out some time ago in the crook of his arm, and the poor man was trapped beneath them. Rick chuckled. "I'm glad Lori fell asleep before they put on this little gem. She hates horror movies."

Everyone else had gone to bed, and Daryl didn't know how much longer his stamina was going to hold. Shane and Andrea were next on watch, and Rick and Dale after that. He should have plenty of time to sleep before he'd be called on again. It couldn't be good for Carol to sleep scrunched up on the couch either. "Y' stayin' in here with th' kids?" he asked Rick. Sophia would probably stay up all night watching movies if he didn't put a stop to it.

Rick shrugged and looked down at his wife and son. "I'll probably try to get them to bed when this one is over."

Daryl wiped his greasy hand on his pants and gave the girl a stern look. "Y' can finish th' movie, but then y' get your butt t' bed. And don't let me find out y' went upstairs without a grownup. Your mama'd have both our asses."

Sophia nodded and turned her gaze back towards the TV. "G'night, Daryl."

He let the leg of the recliner down and scooted to the edge. His arm was trying to go to sleep before the rest of him thanks to the weight of Carol's head against his shoulder. It was a good pain, though, one he was coming to associate with his woman. He slipped an arm beneath her legs and hefted her onto his lap to assure his grip. She didn't stir. Parts of his own body applauded as he breathed in her sweet fragrance. She must've availed herself of the shower while he'd been on watch.

Realizing he couldn't delay any longer, he stood up carefully with her cradled in his arms and made a silent trek to their appointed bedroom. It felt strange being in old man Comeaux's personal space, but it wasn't as if he'd be coming back to claim it. He stood next to the bed for a long moment, simply gazing down on her upturned face, reveling in the feeling of her body pressed tightly to his before laying her gently atop the sheet.

Daryl watched as she curled up on her side, a frown forming between her perfectly sculpted brows. He shucked off his shirt and kicked off his shoes before joining her and pulling the blanket up over her shoulder. Still, she continued to frown in her sleep. He wondered what demons she might be battling in slumber. He hoped they'd go away before they brought on a full-blown nightmare.

The ticking of a battery-operated alarm clock was the only sound to be heard over his unsteady breathing and her soft snuffles as he laid on his side to face her. He knew he should try to sleep, just as he knew he wouldn't be able to as long as she was making that little sound of distress. He scooted closer and reached out for her hand resting between them. He brought it up and pressed a feather light kiss to her fingers, his hooded gaze watching as her features relaxed. The gesture eased the knot of tension in his own chest, to see his touch bring her comfort.

Carol inhaled deeply, a breathy sound of relief. Her fingers tightened on his, and she used his grip on her to pull herself closer, to fit herself against his lean lines as if she'd been made to rest there. "Daryl …" She breathed, caught somewhere between reality and the realm of dreams.

The hunter's eyes cracked open as her sweet breath fanned hotly over his lips, still minty from the toothpaste she'd used. All thought of sleep vanished in a heartbeat to be replaced by a frenetic hum of sensation just beneath his skin. She was so warm and soft and lovely, and he couldn't quell the desire beginning to race through his veins.

He knew what delights were hidden by the little cotton sleep shorts and tank top she wore. He recalled every detail with crystal clarity, the firm globes of her perfect breasts with their dusky nipples, the sweet indention of her waist, the smooth curve of her hips …

His hand traced the outline of her hip atop the blanket and slipped around behind her of its own accord to palm one tantalizing cheek of her glorious ass, pulling her tightly against his straining erection. She whimpered softly, her breathing picking up to match pace with his. When had he lost control over his body? Gawd! I'm a fuckin' pervert takin' advantage of her while she's sleepin', he groaned inwardly. Why's she gotta feel so damn good?

Carol's fingers twisted in his hair, her nails scratching languorously against his sensitive scalp. This was ok, right? He chewed anxiously at the tender inside of his lip as he waged war with his conscience. He wouldn't even be debating it if she didn't mean so much to him. He'd simply take what he wanted and find the sweet relief he so desperately craved. But this was his Carol, the only woman alive who'd ever had a chance of claiming his heart. It was hers for the taking, he was coming to realize whether he wanted to or not. She'd wormed her way inside his head, sunk her nails into his heart and latched onto his very soul. All he could do was sit back and hope she didn't fling it all back into his face and call him stupid for thinking she could ever want him.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, and he couldn't fight off the shiver of pleasure spiraling uncontrollably up his spine. "Fuckkkkk, woman," he growled lowly, his lips scant inches from the petal softness of her mouth. It would be so easy to give in; to finally see what ecstasy he could find in her kiss.

And while he was busy contemplating everything wrong about what he wanted to do to her, with her and for her, she mewled impatiently and closed the distance between them. He swore his heart stuttered to a screeching halt in that one perfect moment when her lips brushed his. It was innocence and chaste longing and fire and a whirlwind of sensation all rolled into the most intense bout of lust he'd ever felt. Fuckin' hellfire!

He was afraid to move, terrified to wake her, but at the same time he was scared not to. What if this was his only chance? Would it be worth the risk of her anger? Or having her distrust him? No! And for once his entire being was in harmony. His heart and mind weren't at odds. "Carol …" he gasped, having made up his mind to wake her. But she seemed caught in whatever visions her subconscious had conjured.

She took advantage of his open mouth and nipped down on his lower lip. Her hand curled over the side of his neck, her fingers digging into the tendon which strained beneath his skin and she sucked gently, her own moan rising to meet his. She's not asleep. She's awake an' she wants me …this …whatever this is, she wants it too, he told himself. Jus' a little more an' I'll let 'er go.

"Mmmm, Daryl," she murmured, pulling him towards her until he was nearly lying half atop her and then pushing him away in an effort to wrest control of the kiss away from him. "Mine …"

Oh, gawd, she did not jus' claim me! What the hell was going on in her head? He couldn't even pawn her imaginings off on some dream lover, not when it was his name on her lips. Who knew she could be such a passionate little spitfire in her sleep? He shivered. What would she be like when awake and in full control of her faculties. He was seconds away from losing it and she'd done nothing but kiss him. Oh, he was so far in over his head he was never going to see the surface. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to.

Her hot little tongue slithered past his teeth to duel with his, and he arched into her. He gave it all and surrendered to the onslaught of her sweet mouth. If she moved her hands away from his chest and let them venture lower, he knew he'd embarrass himself. He couldn't find it in himself to care.

Carol moaned again and then sighed. Her body shifted as she nestled down into his warmth and then she was still. Daryl gaped at her, his mouth hanging open. "Aw, hell no! You've gotta be shittin' me," he growled. He'd heard of sleepwalking and he'd heard of talking in your sleep. Hell, Merle had been known to have entire conversations in his sleep and not remember a damn thing the next day … but this here … what the fuck was he even supposed to call this? Sleep fuckin'? And how was he supposed to broach the subject with her without sounding like a stark raving lunatic?

Whatever he decided, it wasn't helping the problem in his pants. He scowled down at the tent his erection was making under the blanket. So much for me gettin' any sleep. It didn't help any that he could hear his brother's amused laughter echoing through his head. He eased himself out from under Carol's slumbering form and grabbed some clean clothes from his pack. One of the few times he'd likely have a hot shower available and he needed an arctic chill.