AN: Here we go, another little chapter. I hope you enjoy!
I'm putting this out here as I keep updating. I have been absent because of real life, and I'm likely to be absent again. Things might not be as regular as I would like them to be, but I'm not abandoning anything. I'll update when I can.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Carol woke up only because she could feel that her bed…which was really Daryl, though she'd forgotten how they'd fallen asleep when she'd lost herself in probably a deeper sleep than was prudent in their current situation…was shifting around.
She tried to lift herself off of him before she was even fully conscious, aware of the fact that she was probably too heavy for him, but he caught her around the arm with a hand.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "Weren't trying to wake you up."
Carol looked around. It was morning, though it hadn't been morning for long. The light was just breaking through the sky and the night wasn't a distant memory yet. There was no one stirring around them other than a Walker that was right outside the window of the truck, almost pressing its disgusting, half-rotted face against the glass.
Carol groaned at the creature and then remembered that she was trying to stop squishing Daryl…and she was suddenly aware that he was dealing with other situations of the morning, and he was clearly trying to keep her from noticing it.
She decided not to say anything about it since he was clearly trying to shift his body away from her.
"It's OK," she said. "I need to check on Sophia."
Daryl groaned and helped Carol off him.
"Gotta take a piss," he said. "I can check on her if you wanna just stay in here."
"I have to pee too," Carol admitted, suddenly needing to go worse now that it had been presented to her as a possibility.
Daryl looked at her, his eyes still swolled with sleep, and for a moment she thought that he looked like he didn't believe that she even went to bathroom and less likely that she was suggesting that she might need to go with him.
But then he seemed to snap out of his sleepy consideration of the fact that she might have to relieve herself and he grunted at her, a sound of approval. He twisted enough in the seat to get a look at the Walker that was hovering outside the window.
"You might oughta go out with me," he said. "Don't think you'd do good ta go on ya own."
"I could go on my own," Carol said, defensively. "I can take care of myself."
Daryl chuckled.
"Might can," he said, "but that don't mean you gotta be dumb about it."
Both of them shifted around, finding themselves now out of their twisted position and into a position of sitting side by side.
"Come on," Daryl said. "Get…a knife or…what you got?"
"I have a knife," Carol said.
"Get that…let's go," Daryl said. "I'll get rid a' this dirty bastard an' we'll hope he ain't got no friends waitin' over there in the trees."
And that was all the discussion that seemed necessary to Daryl because he spilled out of the truck, killed the Walker that was loitering outside, and then practically pulled Carol out behind him. She followed him quickly, closing the truck door behind her, and then trotted with him across the road and down into the bushes on the other side of the bank.
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"Don't think I don't know what you was doin' all damn night," Merle growled to Daryl when they'd dismissed themselves to go hunting in an attempt to bring something back for the group to eat. They were staying put, parked in one place, for at least a few nights. There was really nothing else to do. They had no idea where they were going and no idea what their next plan of attack was. The group wasn't much in the practice of moving, keeping to the road, in the way that Daryl, Merle, and Alice had been, so it seemed easier to simply keep them in one spot until they had some idea of a destination that they were trying to make.
Daryl hated to admit, though, that while he heard Rick and Shane talking about some magical destination that they might find…now a military base to replace the CDC…he was almost convinced that there was simply nowhere left to go. They could travel until the road ran out, but they weren't going to simply drive right up into some kind of magical land where they left behind everything that they'd seen and done so far.
But, for the time being, they were simply camping and hoping that Rick, who had pretty much put himself in the position of being their unquestioned leader, would figure out what they could do to save themselves from the situation they were in.
"Weren't doin' nothin' all damn night," Daryl responded, momentarily bored by his brother. He'd rather be hunting alone, but he couldn't do that with the world that it was now. He'd even rather be back at camp…at least then he was in the company of better conversationalists than Merle Dixon. "I was sleepin' all damn night. Not like you…checkin' out the damn shocks on that car."
Merle chuckled to himself.
"You tellin' me you ain't tastin' that pussy?" Merle asked. "End a' the fuckin' world, lil' brother."
Daryl made a face at Merle. Merle laughed in response and hummed at him.
"Mmm hmmm…lil' brother done got him a taste a' somethin' he likes? 'Bout damn time, Derlina. I was beginnin' ta wonder if ya ass knew what the hell ta do with it," Merle said, crunching through the leaves in front of him without a care.
"I know what the hell ta do with it, Merle," Daryl said. "I just don't feel the fuckin' need ta do it with every woman I meet. What the hell's gonna happen? When you done with that blonde you just had ta up an' save? What the hell happens then?"
Merle hummed.
"Fuck…don't matter," Merle said. "What the hell's gonna happen? Look around ya, lil' brother. We all gonna die for too long."
"Then why save the blonde?" Daryl asked, stopping his steps long enough to kill a Walker that was ambling toward them, another not two feet away. They were thicker in the woods and Daryl had an odd sensation that they were going somewhere. In fact, it seemed almost like the mindless corpses had more of an idea of a destination than they did. "You really believe we all gonna die, why the hell'd you save the blonde?"
Merle didn't respond, but his facial expression did change slightly. He grunted and continued walking in the direction they were going. He believed they were tracking deer. At best they would probably come back with a raccoon or two.
Merle's chosen silence on the matter spoke more volumes than his words might have. Merle Dixon could talk his way out of anything, but often his words were bullshit. Sometimes it was a good rule of thumb that Merle's silences held a lot more actual information than anything that came spilling out of his mouth.
He didn't believe they were all going to die…but he wanted to. Believing they were all going to die would make it easier to accept if they did. It was the same old song and dance with Merle…and maybe with Daryl too. Not getting attached, or at least pretending not to be attached, would make the loss easier. Not caring would make it not hurt. Not getting hopes up meant that they could only be dashed so hard against the rocks of reality.
If you didn't feel anything, you couldn't feel the things that you didn't want to feel.
The problem was that you couldn't avoid feeling. The numbness was an act. The feelings were real. The attachment, the caring, and the hope…they were all real. And so was everything that followed when they were destroyed.
But you would never get Merle Dixon to admit that. And Daryl wasn't going to press because he didn't want to admit, at least not aloud, that he and his brother were very different in some ways, but they were very much alike in others.
They guarded silence for a long time. They guarded silence while they killed the approaching Walkers, while they hunted down a few squirrels and four rabbits, and then they guarded it on the way back to camp while they killed more Walkers.
And Daryl felt it was safe to change the subject because it was clear that his brother, though he'd been the one to introduce the earlier conversation, didn't want to continue in the vein that they'd been talking about before.
"It seem ta you that them nasty things is headed somewhere?" Daryl asked.
Merle grunted.
"Our camp," Merle said, matter of factly. "I'm pretty damn sure they can smell us. They smell the whole damn bunch of us."
"You reckon they can see?" Daryl asked.
Merle hummed.
"Gotta see somethin' or they asses'd be stuck up against damn trees an' shit," Merle said. "They can see. Prob'ly can smell."
"You think they can hear too?" Daryl asked.
As something of a test, perhaps, Merle whistled sharply at two that were close by and hadn't seemed to notice them yet. The sharp whistle he let out snatched the attention of the two Walkers and Daryl and Merle planted their steps to wait for them to walk toward them, each of them stabbing the nasty son of a bitch that got closest to them.
"Can hear too," Merle said nonchalantly as he cleaned his knife off on his pants.
"What you reckon that means?" Daryl asked. "I mean…if they can hear us, smell us, an' see us…we ever gettin' away from 'em?"
Merle hummed again.
"Only if we outrun 'em," Merle said. "They pretty damn slow."
"Sittin' in one damn place, though," Daryl said. "Ain't gonna work. We just…hell…we ducks on the water, Merle. We just waitin' for the fuckers ta walk up an' pick what they like best ta eat."
Merle chuckled.
"I knowed that for a while, Daryl," Merle said. "You just now catchin' up?"
Daryl chewed his lip. No, he wasn't just catching up. He was just verifying some of his suspicions for himself, perhaps, but he wasn't just catching up.
"Rick an' Shane," Daryl commented, "they still think we goin' somewhere else. They still figurin' we gonna find some military base an' the government's gonna just up an' save us all."
Merle chuckled. Daryl didn't believe it any more than his brother did, but he didn't find their situation as humorous, perhaps, as his brother did. Or maybe he wasn't hiding behind his laughter at the moment.
Merle stopped his steps without explanation and Daryl followed suit. Merle turned to look at him, his face set with seriousness.
"Government ain't savin' nobody," Merle said. "Don't know if they ever have before…but they sure as shit ain't savin' nobody now. If they was, you think they'da blowed up they big ole science building like that? We're on our own now, brother. We live or we die…that shit's on us. Ain't on no damn government no more. Ain't on no military. We live or we die, that's on us."
"You don't think there's safety at no base, do you?" Daryl asked, already knowing the answer.
Merle hummed at him again.
"Might be," Merle said with a shrug. "They prob'ly still there…but they ain't no government comin' out ta give us no ticker tape welcome."
Daryl chuckled at that and Merle echoed it.
"We find a base," Merle said, "we might just make that shit work…hell…block it off...I don't fuckin' know. But what the hell we got right now? Right now we just settin' up ta get eat. These fuckers ain't gonna stop comin', so we ain't got much choice but ta keep goin'."
"You gonna tell Rick an' Shane that?" Daryl asked. "They set on us campin' until they figure out where the hell we headed next."
Merle hummed again and looked around, turning his body in a full circle as he looked around the wooded area that surrounded him.
"They ain't comin' fast," he said. "Reckon it ain't gonna hurt ta let 'em live in they little fairy tale a day or so. Get us somethin' good ta eat. They decide ta hit the road before long, ain't no need ta break it to 'em that they got 'em some damn pipe dreams goin' on. They'll figure that shit out soon enough."
"So we just hang out for a couple days, Merle? Knowin' all the damn time that the damn nasty assholes is comin' for us? We just hang out an' pretend we don't know what the hell we doin' until they decide it's a good damn idea ta shake it on down the road a piece?" Daryl asked.
Merle picked up his steps and headed on toward the camp.
"Do what the hell we always done, Daryl," Merle said. "Get what the hell we can outta right now…'cause they ain't no guarantees for tomorrow."
Merle stopped again, looking over his shoulder at Daryl and Daryl had to stop his steps quicker than he'd planned to keep from plowing into his brother's broad back.
"'Sides…folks like Rick an' Shane? They ain't listenin' to a couple damn idiots like you an' me…ain't no damn body gonna listen ta you an' me," Merle said.
And Daryl knew that it wasn't that Merle was trying to dig for some kind of compliment, and he wasn't trying to dig for some kind of affirmation. He wasn't even pitying himself or Daryl with his statement. He was just bluntly presenting the truth. People like Rick and Shane…and probably a good number of other people that made up the group they were travelling with…made up their minds about how things were and often lived convinced that their social standing made them right. They weren't interested in what a couple of redneck brothers they looked down on had to say about a thing besides hunting in the area.
They wouldn't listen to a word that they had to say about how the group should proceed from there.
"They might listen ta Al," Daryl said. "She's got that fancy degree…might just listen to her."
Merle hummed again and then laughed as he crashed back through the thick underbrush.
"Just might," he said. "Good damn thing Al listens ta us."