Hershel and Daryl left the cell and by the look on Glenn's face, he was eager to talk about something. After perching on the edge of her bed, and once they had discussed how each were feeling physically, Glenn broached the subject.
"Do you remember?" he asked, his brown eyes searching hers.
"The farm?" replied Carol, "That dream or hallucination or whatever the hell it was? Yeah, I remember."
Glenn leaned forwards, "Do you get what it meant?"
"I think it was some experience we both had where we were in the same place subconsciously."
The younger man's eyes brightened with vigour, "C'mon Carol. Those voices at the end were fro the people we care about and who care about us. I came back for Maggie. You know the reason you're here."
Carol closed her eyes for a moment, "Maybe," she answered, sitting up and crossing her legs in front of her, "When I was out of it and he was here, I thought….no. It's nothing. Forget I said anything." She glanced down at the thin bedspread and began to pick at it.
"Hey,"Glenn tugged at her wrist, "Tell me, talk to me. It's not nothing."
She sighed, "I thought he said something. About how he felt."
Glenn studied her for a second before a grin broke out on his face. Keeping his voice low and glancing to the door, he said, "Well then, that's it. You absolutely cannot ignore it. You have to ask him about it. We all know you're crazy about each other."
"Pfft," she snorted. "And watch him freak out?! You know he's never going to open up, Glenn."
"Carol," Glenn chided. "You could be dead right now. We could all be dead a hundred times over. You should've been gone at least twice, but you're here. Because of him, remember. He saved you when the farm fell and when you were tracks in the tombs. Somehow we got the chance to come back this time, don't waste it. Our luck will run out eventually and could all end in the blink of an eye. There's a reason we got to wake up, there has to be. Seize the chance to live, you made that decision when you didn't want to stay at the farm. Please." The rest of his words died in his mouth as Daryl coming back into the room. He gave her a meaningful look before heading out to find his wife.
"What was that about?" enquired Daryl, sitting down heavily on the chair by her bed. He leaned forward and placed his folded arms on the edge of the mattress, studying her. He noticed that her freckles had become more apparent on her still pallid face and there were dark circles under her eyes.
Carol sighed, "Nothing." She flapped her hand dismissively and then smoothed at her top. "Glenn was just getting philosophical about second chances after our brush with death."
Daryl looked puzzled and wondered what their friend had been saying to Carol.
"He was going on about having a second chance and seizing the chance to live." She rolled her eyes, "It was all very dramatic, you know, talking about how everything could be snatched away at any time, so we all shouldn't waste a second. Sounded like a superstitious old woman." She failed to mention that Glenn was trying to talk her into making a move on the man before her. A romantic move. After their shared out of body experience, Glenn was convinced it was a sign that she and Daryl were meant to be.
The hunter stared at her unable to formulate a reply, damn Glenn, trying to meddle. "Hmmmm," was all he said. He'd noticed her voice was raw, and husky found he liked it. They sat in amicable silence, as they often had whilst spending evenings together.
"How is everyone?" Carol asked shifting position in bed so that she was on her side, an arm under her head, looking up at him. The vest she had on had ruffled up around her stomach area and caught Daryl's eye. He could see faint scars on the pale skin. He appreciated the glimpse of her body but it felt wrong when the marks on her showed how much pain she'd been subjected to. He swallowed and averted his eyes, trying not to feel a swell of anger at that prick of a husband of hers. At least the asshole was dead, if he hadn't fell foul of a walker, then maybe the real Carol would never had emerged. She pulled her top down and he studied the floor as he filled her in on the below par meals they had endured and the drop in standards generally.
"I best get back to the grind tomorrow then," she gave a low chuckle, "To think, I always felt like a burden."
"Ya anythin' but a burden," he answered truthfully. "Don't ever think that!"
"I clearly have my uses," she joked, eyes twinkling.
"Yeah," he replied, "Maybe you do have one or two." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "No one cooks up squirrel stew like you do…."
"Oh, I do love cooking stuff up," she said, raising an eyebrow and unleashing that smile, the one that he pictured in his head whenever he thought about her, the one that brought about stirrings he had been trying to dampen, even though she only had to glance in his direction with those eyes to turn him on. He was glad to be sitting down otherwise his excitement would be hard to hide and now was not the right time, she'd only just come round. He swallowed hard and rubbed his hands together to shift his attention from her beautiful face.
"So," he said, "About you getting'back to the grind…"
Carol looked at him, her smile fading.
"Hershel said you can go back to your own cell, but you gotta rest for a day or two." His eyes flicked up to her face, knowing what was coming next.
"Oh Daryl, I can't do that," she sighed "I have my jobs to do everybody needs me to pitch in and we need to get back to some sort of normality here."
He regarded his hands again, nodded slightly and chewed his lip, considering his next words carefully. "Everybody does need you, sure. But you ain't much use to anybody if you're not at full strength."
She opened her mouth to protest, but he gently placed his hand on her right one where it lay on the bed. She looked down at it. Yet another physical interaction she hadn't initiated, her heart raced.
Daryl continued, using that soft tone he reserved for her, "Everybody needs you to be a hundred percent. Hell, I need you to be, otherwise there's no one to cook up them squirrels I catch," he stumbled over the words, averting his eyes, "Please rest. For – do it for me." The last sentence tumbled out of his mouth, almost begging her to agree. He waited a moment before meeting her gaze, unsure if she'd be angry at the emotional blackmail he'd deployed.
Her eyes narrowed and she arranged her features into a look of mock outrage, "I can't say no to that, can I, Dixon?" She removed her hand from his and playfully punched his shoulder. "I'll take it easy for a day. Two days max."
Daryl broke out into a smile, "Had to play dirty cos I know you'd never agree otherwise, woman."
"Oh, I'll get you back," she warned, raising her eyebrow and trying to appear serious, "You have no idea how dirty I can play…" She clapped her hand to her mouth, realising how that sounded and coloured slightly.
Daryl's eyes widened, he enjoyed seeing her blushing over her flirtations, usually he got red and flustered. "That a promise?" he replied, a smile playing at his mouth and his dick hardened at the thought.
"I – er –" she started, before she laughed and gently hit him again, "Stop!"
He laughed, a genuine, carefree sound that shocked her. She'd never witnessed that before, there hadn't been a lot of opportunities for fun and merriment and Daryl's usual demeanour was one of irritation and seriousness, with the occasional snort or momentary chuckle. That laugh lit up his face, made him seem younger and carefree and she knew he had no idea how attractive he was. She bit back the urge to take that face in her hands and kiss him.
She realised she'd broken out into a grin along with him and she wished that moment would never end but she rearranged herself into a sitting position, her back against the cold wall, her legs stretched out, crossed at the ankle and hanging off the bed adjacent to Daryl's right arm.
He glanced down at her long slim limbs and chewed on his lip. He longed to run his hand from her ankle, up her thigh and back again. His excitement grew again and he looked down at his hands. "I can help you back to your cell," he said, trying not to imagine how silky her skin probably felt, though if he stood now, the tent in his pants would be unmissable.
"That sounds like an offer I can't refuse, taking me my bed." She had retorted without thinking and realised she had let the words tumble out unheeded. Her cheeks flushed again and she dropped her eyes to her hands in her lap.
He sat back in the chair and regarded her, part of him enjoying the sensation of her being flustered around him, but also waiting for a certain part of himself to relax.
"Sorry," she mumbled, "Think I'm still a little out of it. From the fever, you know."
He raised an eyebrow, a half smile playing with his lips, "Uh-huh," he answered, still marvelling at her awkwardness. "Maybe you should get sick more often."
Her eyes widened at his words before her face broke out into her trademark dimpled grin. "Stop." she repeated, chuckling again.
Suddenly her face changed and she wrinkled her delicately freckled nose, "I could really use a shower, probably smell worse than the dead." She tilted her head, "Don't worry Dixon, I wouldn't expect your help in that area, but maybe you could see if the generators can be fired up a little?"
He snorted, "Way you been talkin' you could use a cold shower." He thought he'd probably need one later when he thought over their playful interaction in delicious detail.
Carol rolled her eyes and tapped his arm playfully with her foot. He stood, "I'll go start up the power for some warm water, then when you're done gettin' cleaned up, we'll get you back to your cell." He failed to add that he would have happily scrubbed her back. He reminded himself that she was still recovering from the virus and didn't want to get too inappropriate, she had only just returned from death's door, after all. Although being inappropriate with her was a fantasy that would keep him awake that night, he was sure.
"Daryl," she began, looking serious. He loved hearing her saying his name, still immersed in his heated train of thought, he recalled part of one of the scenarios which ran around his head involved him making her say it as her hands scrunched up the sheets on his bed. He licked his lips at the imagined image, but dampened down his mind to concentrate on what she was going to say. He needed to get a goddamn grip, instead of sitting fantasising like some hormone ridden teenager.
"Would you let me know when they're burying Beth? I want to be there, she was a sweet girl." She dropped her eyes to her lap once again as she filled up.
He moved back to the chair and lowered himself into it, grabbing her left hand in his. "Hey," he said softly, ducking his head to try to catch her gaze. She was concentrating on her hands in his in an effort not to cry. "'Course you'll be there, think it'll be later on today." A tear slid down her cheek, tracing a well worn track left after all those shed for their loved ones. It made its way across her jaw and down her neck, Daryl fighting the urge to wipe it away with his mouth. He hated seeing her cry, words dried up in his mouth and he just wanted to envelope her with his body, to hug the hurt away. Here he was, surly Daryl Dixon, fretting over a woman's sadness. He could scarcely believe that the end of the world had allowed him to find his own new world in Carol. She began tracing her thumb over his knuckles and he almost melted at her touch. Dismissing his thoughts again he took his other hand and placed it under her chin, raising her eyes to him, where they instantly filled and overflowed as her chin wobbled.
"She was just a kid, Daryl." Carol wept, "She'd lost so much. She was always seeing the good in everything. Then there's Hershel and Maggie! They – I -I…just...it should have been me. She had more to offer this world. " Her words trailed off as she used the back of her right hand to wipe away the tears.
Daryl chewed at his lip, barely able to listen to her talk like that. He dropped her hand and climbed onto the bed beside her, placing an arm around her slender shoulders, his body pressed into her side. She leaned into him and he placed his cheek against the top of her hair.
"Don't ever talk like that," he scolded gently. He wanted to tell her that her even thinking that terrified him, that he refused to contemplate his life without her in it. She was like the sun to him, and even in the relatively short time that they'd been in each other's obits, she was always there. Forever on his mind, his first thought on waking up, before sleep and when returning to the prison. He'd heard the phrase 'light of my life' before and had always dismissed the cliché, but now he understood the notion. He rarely cast his mind back to that time after T-Dog's death when it had been assumed that Carol too had been lost. He'd genuinely felt bereft during those days when she'd been stuck in the tombs, the realisation had hit him then that she'd always been around him, even if only in his peripheral vision or the background, his one constant. With her gone, he'd lost the person he was closest to.
Her tears fell onto his plaid shirt and he closed his eyes; he also couldn't bare her crying or upset. Hadn't been able to ever since Sophia stumbled out of that barn and he'd immediately grabbed Carol and held her as though physically trying to keep her body and her heart from breaking.
She pulled away and wiped at her eyes with her hand again. "Sorry," she mumbled, those blue orbs of hers shimmering with sadness, "Its so sad. Should be used to it by now, but it never gets any easier to deal with." She looked at him, her expression radiating sorrow.
Daryl sighed, "I know. I'm tired of losing people too." His voice was soft, gentle, that one he reserved only for her. His tone touched her soul and in that moment, she was glad she had survived. Then felt guilt at such a selfish thought. A tear slid down her freckled cheek and he reached up to swipe it away gently with his thumb, cupping his face with his hand.
She leaned forward into his touch, into his personal space and he took an involuntary breath, realising he could close the gap between them and try to kiss it all better. Their eyes locked together and they were inches apart, Daryl's hand still on her face. His gaze dropped to her lips before roaming back up to her eyes, he could hear his heart thudding in his eyes as everything else fell away and all that was left was her.