It's here at long last! The next chapter in Daryl's adventures! I know you guys have been dying for this chapter and here it is! I really hope you guys enjoy it! Oh and do not worry, there is no DarylxCarol pairing in this fic. They are simply two beaten and abused souls drawn together to heal each other. C:
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Walking Dead.
Dale was a simple man, at least that was his opinion of himself. He'd been called somewhat philosophical too, but he wasn't one to acknowledge what others thought was inspiring, at least about himself anyway.
Before, Dale was guardian to Amy and Andrea. They saved him from despair after his wonderful wife lost her fight with cancer. Now, Amy was dead and Andrea was trying to find closure for her sister's death. He still watched Andrea carefully, still worried she might one day choose to "opt out" as Daryl had once said.
He sat in an old lawn chair perched on the roof of the Winnebago, fiddling with his watch absently while keeping watch for any Walkers.
"Dale?" A boyish voice called. "Hey Dale, do you know where Andrea is?"
The elderly man leaned over and peered down at Rick's son, who was panting and shifting from foot to foot impatiently.
"Well, last I saw her she was going out on patrol with Shane."
Dale stopped himself from spitting the man's name, knowing that the boy still looked up to Shane in a way.
"Well...do you know when they'll be back? I really need to show her somethin'." Carl asked, energy and anticipation coursing through his 12-year old body.
The scruffy man looked at his watch, then the sun, and back to Carl. "Well they left about an hour ago, so they should be back already."
Panic got him out of his chair and prepared to climb down to alert Rick, when the distant roar of a pickup was heard. With a quick thanks, Carl sped off towards the approaching truck, kicking up dust as he went.
Shaking his head, Dale grabbed the binoculars and watched Shane roughly park the truck and step out, giving Carl a high-five before striding up the porch steps. He shook his head again and eased back into the lawn chair, dropped the binoculars in his lap and fingered his rifle.
"Andrea! Hey!"
The blonde woman stopped on the first step and put a hand on her hip, smiling at the boy.
"Hey bud, what's up?"
Carl smiled, "I just wanted to show you something real quick."
Andrea quirked an eyebrow. "Right now? It's almost dinner time y'know."
The boy grabbed her wrist and tugged her off the step. "Yes now! It won't take long! I promise!"
Reluctantly, Andrea let herself be dragged around the house, but before they rounded the corner, Carl stopped and told her to close her eyes.
"Excuse me?"
"Aw c'mon Andrea!" He whined, "Please? It'll only be for a minute."
She thought about it, only a tad bit suspicious, but eventually gave in. She closed her eyes tight and swore on Girl Scout's honor she wouldn't peek.
Carl, finally satisfied she wouldn't look, grabbed her larger hand and half walked, half dragged Andrea around the back of the house. He grinned when he spotted Daryl and Glenn standing where he'd left them.
Gripping his hand tighter, the blonde followed the boy's every step. She was never good at trusting someone to lead her in the right direction, physically or metaphorically. As a child, trust exercises were her nightmare. On the random days the teacher or a coach wanted to hold "class/team bonding" time, the first exercise was the trust fall. Andrea always caught whomever she was entrusted to catch, but when it came her turn it was different. No matter how many times they reassured her, she could never make herself fall completely backwards and into the arms of her trustee.
As Carl and Andrea got closer, Glenn stopped talking idly with Daryl and prepared for a show. Daryl smirked at the Asian before stooping down and, without hesitation or grimace, scooping a small lump of rotten innards into his right hand. Glenn covered his mouth with one hand and pinched his nose with the other, keeping himself from laughing or snorting.
"Are we there yet Carl? I thought you said this would be quick?" Andrea queried.
"Don't worry," Carl replied calmly, "We're here."
The two stopped and no one moved for a few seconds. After the pause, Carl slowly approached Daryl and grinned like a cat. The Dixon transferred the slimy mess into the 12-year-old's hands and grinned back. With a nod, Carl turned to Andrea and stopped.
"Ok Andrea, are you ready?"
She put a hand on her hip and turned her head in the boy's direction. "Yep. Hit me."
Glenn and Daryl bit back snickers at the remark, knowing what Carl had would really hit her good.
Carl held his grin, "Ok just hold out both your hands. Don't worry it's nothin' gross like a bug or anything."
Andrea's brow furrowed in suspicion and she hesitated.
"C'mon Andrea! Trust me!"
The plea worked and the older blonde reluctantly held out both hands together, praying that the kid wasn't lying.
Glancing at Glenn and Daryl, Carl plopped the disgusting "surprise" into Andrea's hands.
With a loud shriek the blonde popped open her eyes, saw the "surprise" and dropped it like a hot coal.
Carl, Glenn, and Daryl burst out laughing. Holding their stomachs and gasping for air while Andrea stood shell-shocked. The effect quickly wore off and anger flooded her body, changing her face from tan to bright cherry red.
"You ASSHOLES!" She began, clenching her bloodied palms tightly. "WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?!"
Daryl was the first to speak, the other two still unable to stop laughing. He smirked with such mirth that Andrea's blood began to boil.
"Don't get yer panties in a twist Barbie, it was just a prank."
Andrea gritted her teeth at the nickname, hating the name ever since she was little.
"A PRANK?! You think this is FUNNY?!" She fumed. The blonde pointed accusingly at Daryl, who stood completely unfazed. "Lori was right when she said you were a bad influence!"
Despite the chord it struck, Daryl forced himself to chuckle and say, "Since when do you agree with Olive Oil?"
Andrea stomped over and attempted to give the blonde redneck a good punch to the face, but she was thwarted as he easily caught her wrist in his big paw.
"Let me go!" She spat angrily.
He stopped smirking and turned serious for a moment. "First lesson of a fight: only start one if you know you're gonna win."
He pulled her closer and spoke in a lower voice, "And don't you ever compare me to what that bitch thinks of me."
Andrea yanked her wrist away and glared at the redneck before stomping off towards the house. Glenn and Carl finally caught their breath and stood wiping tears from their eyes as the trio watched the blonde storm off. After only a few strides she turned, locked her smoldering blue eyes onto Daryl's, and promptly gave him the finger. Turning again she stalked off around the corner of the house and was gone.
Carl stared after Andrea, confused, and turned to the two older men. "What did that mean?"
Glenn answered first. "It's called flipping the bird or flipping someone off."
The boy thought about this a moment. "Ok but, what does it mean?"
"Fuck you," replied Daryl.
"Oh."
A light tinging noise drifted from the house, signaling dinner was ready.
Carl glanced at Glenn and Daryl before tromping back to the house, the two in his tracks. As they got closer, Glenn put a hand on the kid's shoulder.
"Hey don't sweat it, Andrea didn't mean that for you. You know she cares about you," he said. "We all do. She meant that for me and Mr. Asshat over there."
Daryl snorted, "Glenn's right. Don't take it ta heart kid."
Carl looked up at the two of them on both sides before smiling happily. "That's good. I was afraid she hated me now."
Glenn and Daryl laughed at that, making Carl smile even more. The three rounded the house together and climbed up the steps quickly. Lori stood on the porch waiting and hugged her son before kissing his head and pushing him inside. She nodded to Glenn with a smile as he passed. Daryl nodded to her and started inside, but Lori held his arm back.
"Stay out here a second. I need to talk to you."
The blonde sighed and stepped back onto the porch, stuffing his hands in his pockets and waiting. Lori moved away from the door and over to the railing of the porch before speaking.
"Look Daryl, I know you and I haven't really seen eye to eye but..." She trailed off and he looked at her expectantly. "What I'm saying is that I've wronged you more than you've wronged me."
Daryl blinked in surprise, but kept his expression passive.
"I...I told Andrea one day that I thought you were a bad influence on Carl. I'm sorry about that. I was just...stressed out and took it out on you."
Lori looked out over the farm, into the trees, and sighed. Daryl was confused and a bit uncomfortable. He wasn't used to anyone apologizing to him, especially a woman. He ran threw his mind what to say, but as always with "feely talk" as Merle called it, Daryl was at a loss.
"I'm glad Carl's taken a liking to you," she stated. "I used to think between Rick and Shane he would learn all he needed to know about defending himself or...surviving I guess. But with the world the way it is now, I know that only you can do that."
The Dixon brother shifted his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms. He studied Lori for a moment and thought about what she was saying.
"What are you gettin' at Olive Oil? That you want me ta teach your boy to fight?"
She sighed and wrung her hands. "Yes. Shane is...changing and I don't know what's wrong with him lately." Lori stopped a moment, then continued, "Rick is fine but he's so worried about others in the group and the farm and finding Sophia that he just doesn't have the time."
"Then he needs to make th' time," Daryl replied.
Lori looked even more stressed than before. "He can't Daryl! He's so stressed as it is! Especially now that I'm pregnant..."
Rubbing his eyes, Daryl groaned, "Fine. you want me to teach him to shoot? Hunt? Kill?"
"Just teach him how to shoot and fight. Maybe when he's got those down you can show him how to hunt but..."
He waved her off, "Yeah I know. No killin'." Daryl saw her pained expression and added, "Don't think he'll hafta know how anyways. Seein' as he's got us."
Lori nodded and pulled back her hair. "Thank you Daryl. I appreciate it." She wiped her hands on her jeans before stepping inside.
The smell of fresh cooked food almost made the redneck drool. Opening the door he was greeted by more delicious scents drifting from the dining room. He could hear voices, but he didn't hear any silverware scratching against plates as the group began to eat. Curious and hungry, Daryl walked through the small foyer and the voices quieted. Slowly, the blonde came to the dining room and stopped in surprise.
The table was loaded with steaming food, the hot air drifting from each dish to the ceiling and into the other rooms. There was a bowl of fresh green beans, mashed potatoes, carrots, and even some biscuits and rolls. Butter and jelly were set neatly beside a serving knife, and on the other side was a small cup of gravy. In the center sat the deer he'd caught earlier, perfectly cooked and steaming. Looking around he noticed everyone's plate was empty, the silverware untouched.
Everyone looked back at him with smiles of gratitude and friendship, although Andrea still looked pissed and Shane...well Shane looked like he always did.
"We were waiting for you," Rick said.
"Yeah, can't start without you," Glenn followed, Maggie nodding in agreement.
Carol patted the empty chair next to her and smiled. "C'mon Daryl. You're apart of this group too."
Daryl felt a shard of guilt bury deeper in his chest at seeing the empty chair. 'That should be Sophia. Not me.'
The blonde made his way around the crowded table and sat beside Carol, who patted his arm and smiled again.
"We need to pray first," Maggie spoke up. She looked at her father, "It's what mom used to do every meal."
Nodding, everyone joined hands. Daryl hesitated, but Carol gently took his right while Beth took his left. He hadn't prayed at a meal since he could hardly remember. His momma was the one who taught him his prayers as a kid, always saying to thank God for each meal, each blessing he gave them. For awhile, even his old man and Merle would pray with him and his momma at meals, but after some years old man Dixon got drunker and shittier and Merle got older and colder. Still, Daryl remembered her praying with his small hand in hers, her head bowed and her voice as soft as a lamb's.
Bowing his head, Daryl waited, but when no one said a word he looked up. Again, everyone was looking at him expectantly, as if waiting for something.
"Go on son," Hershel urged.
Surprised, Daryl began to scramble in his mind for something to say, some excuse that he couldn't, shouldn't, be the one to thank the Lord for their meal. Carol gently squeezed his hand reassuringly and it reminded him of the prayer his momma loved the most.
Clearing his throat uncertainly, Daryl began the prayer.
"Bless us O Lord an' give us thy gifts, which we are about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord...Amen."
Everyone released hands and started dishing out the food.
"That was a damn good prayer Daryl," T-Dog praised as he grabbed the bowl of potatoes.
Hershel cleared his throat at the swear. "That was a good job son. Thank you."
Daryl nodded at the old man before reaching for a biscuit. Before anyone had a chance to try and cut themselves a slice of meat, Rick stood and called for silence.
"Now I know this isn't a holiday dinner or anything but...Well, I think Daryl should cut the meat." His eyes met Daryl's, reflecting genuine appreciation.
Daryl was silent for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. Carol nodded her head at Rick and said, "I think that's a great idea Rick. Daryl caught this deer for us and we never asked him to."
She nudged the blonde until he grunted and stood. "Don't know why yer pesterin' me woman. We needed food an' squirrels ain't gonna feed everyone."
Rick made his way over to Daryl and handed him the carving knife. The Dixon brother hovered the knife over the deer for a moment, glanced around at the faces, and started cutting. He cut Lori a piece first, then Carl and Rick. As he served the meat, the number of praises and thank-you's he received mounted. He tried to think of a single time in his life before all this when he'd been thanked so many times in one day. The blonde felt a tug on his cracked lips when he couldn't think of a single one.
"Here woman. You need to put some meat on them bones."
Carol eyed the plate of meat with surprise, "I can't eat all this Daryl. You and the others need it more than me."
Daryl sat in his seat with his smaller portion and began piling potatoes beside the meat. "I ain't askin' you to eat it all. I'm tellin' ya to." He gave her a pointed look before offering her the potatoes.
"Just two scoops please," she answered. "Look Daryl, you, Shane, Rick, T-Dog - everyone here needs this meat. I don't need it. Really I - "
She stopped when his eyes narrowed dangerously, his hands slowly putting the bowl in the center of the table.
"And why not? Do you think yer gonna be able to protect yourself with them stick arms?"
Carol was confused at what he meant. She knew that in this awful world, self-defense was number one next to owning and using a weapon. She'd been wanting to ask Daryl if he could at least show her how to use a knife or fight, but with Sophia still missing the blonde was spending as much time as he could trying to locate the lost girl.
She grabbed a roll and began buttering it, "No, but -"
"Tomorrow. First thing in th' mornin'. I'm teachin' ya how to defend yourself. Then I'm goin' out in those damn woods and bringin' back your lil' girl."
The mother was shocked and couldn't speak for a moment. When she found her voice he waved her off, signaling the decision was final. Shaking her head and smiling, Carol filled her plate and dug in, relishing this short time of peace and happiness. A pang hit her when she reminded herself that Sophia was still out there, alone, hungry, and scared. Stealing a glance at Daryl, Carol reassured herself that he would find her daughter and continued to eat.
Hungry. Hungry and scared.
Those were the two things that dominated the young girl's mind as she sat shivering in the tree. Her blue shirt was ripped on the edges and filthy, the dirt and mud-splotched khaki capris faring no better. Leaves, stray cobweb strands, and dirt caked her short hair.
'Momma's gonna kill me.'
She rubbed her arms, trying to warm the pale, scratch-ridden flesh. She kept her lower lip slightly pouted, due to a drying bloody split on the delicate skin. Her small body shivered against the cold breeze, her teeth chattering loudly in her head.
'I wish Daryl was here. Then at least I'd be safe...'
The young girl had been spending the past chilling nights in the trees, knowing that the Geeks could neither reach nor spot her, especially in the dark. The trick was to keep silent and not fall off while sleeping. The first wasn't too hard, but the second was tricky. She had to maneuver her body between branches so that even if she leaned either way, her body wouldn't tumble onto the ground and possibly onto a hungry Walker.
She clutched something in her right palm tightly, looking at it every now and then and smiling. It was a small blade, unsheathed and bloody. Her small fingers traced the edges carefully, etching the designed hilt and returning to the blade's tip. Looking up, the young girl clutched the knife closer and closed her eyes, drifting off into a light slumber.
The sun was just peeking over the horizon when Daryl Dixon knocked on Carol's bedroom door. The sleeping woman opened her eyes groggily, yawned, and muttered a mumbled, "Just a minute."
Throwing on her long sweater, Carol opened the door and blinked in surprise at seeing the younger Dixon at her door. "Daryl?" She whispered so as not to disturb the others. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"
The blonde quirked a thin eyebrow at the woman. "Not unless wakin' up at the crack a' dawn is a crime."
Carol then noticed Daryl was fully dressed. He wore a dull, navy blue long sleeve button-up, his brother's leather vest overlaying it. His dark, worn jeans matched along with the scuffed boots, which finished the ensemble. The redneck's beloved crossbow was strapped across his chest and hung fittingly on his back.
"Well why are you waking me up at dawn?" He rolled his blue eyes and replied gruffly, "Because I'm teachin' ya to fight woman."
After going through her memory of the evening before, Carol snapped to attention and hurried to get dressed.
"Don't put no fancy clothes on. Jus' some jeans and a shirt. I already got ya a jacket."
Carol hurriedly got dressed and met the blonde outside, who was waiting on the steps of the porch with a blade in his hand. With a simple jerk of his head, Daryl led the woman through the morning fog to a small grove of saplings away from the house, but just in sight. The fog was damp and made Carol's jeans stick to her thighs, making her uncomfortable. Daryl didn't seem at all bothered by the mist, ignoring the dampness sticking to his clothes and straggly hair.
"Alright, have you ever held a knife before?" He began as he twirled the knife.
Carol gave him an exasperated look, "Of course I have! I use one everyday, or at least I did. I made Sophia's lunch - "
"Not a damn butter knife!" He growled. "I mean an actual blade. Y'know, swiss army knife or somethin'."
She shook her head. "No, I grew up around pacifists." She gave him a strange look, "Ironic huh?"
The redneck sighed and shook his head before getting closer and holding out the blade. "Take it. I have my own. I'll show ya how to hold it first, then different ways of cuttin' an' stabbin'."
The two spent 30 minutes on how to properly wield a knife before taking a quick break. Daryl got to telling Carol how he'd first learned to use a hunting knife. Afterwards he showed her how to stab an object properly.
"He's a good man."
Shane turned to see Lori quietly close the front door before standing beside him.
"I don't know Lori, I mean yeah he caught that damn deer for dinner but..." He watched Carol successfully stab the marked feed bag filled with leaves. "I still don't trust him. Especially around Carl."
Lori set her jaw and turned her hard eyes on the former deputy. "Why the hell not Shane? He's been hunting for us since the day he and Merle joined us at the quarry. We never asked him to do it, he just went out and brought back some squirrels and rabbits if he could."
She looked out at the duo by the trees again. "He may be vulgar and temperamental sometimes but that's just how he is. I accepted that yesterday and you need to as well."
Shane struggled to think of something to say, but his brain couldn't think of any viable accusation of the redneck. "Well what about-"
"Dammit Shane just give it up! That man has been searching every day for Carol's daughter. Every day. You gave up on her days ago." Lori glared at Shane's bowed head angrily.
"Would you have done the same if it had been Carl? Would you have just given up on my son?"
The man did not reply and she took that as her answer. Fuming, the dark-haired mother headed back inside and slammed the screen door behind her.
The next day, Daryl, T-Dog, and Rick looked over a map of the area, looking for key points to patrol for not only walkers, but Sophia as well.
"I'll check up on this ridge here, take a horse on up there an' see if I can spot 'er."
Rick and T-Dog nodded in agreement. "Sounds like a plan man," T-Dog replied.
"Yeah, but you're gonna have to ask Hershel about that horse." Rick looked back at the house, "I'm not sure if he'll be too willing to lend one of his horses to strangers."
T-Dog shrugged before Daryl could speak. "We shouldn't be too stranger-like to them now. I don't see a reason why he can't trust us with a horse."
Jimmy, a neighbor of Hershel's, stood awkwardly in the background. He'd volunteered to go out with this group on patrols for Walkers. He hadn't gotten to take any out yet, and his hands were itching to do more than just the usual farm stuff, pretending the world hadn't gone to hell.
The trio had finished the small debate and grabbed their weapons. Jimmy spotted a shotgun on the crate and reached for it. Rick grabbed the gun before the teen could take it.
"Whoa, hold up." Rick started, "You ever handle one before?"
Jimmy shrugged, "No, but if I'm goin' out I want one."
"Yeah, and people in hell want slurpees."
Daryl hitched his crossbow over his shoulder and walked off, leaving Rick, T-Dog, and Jimmy to go on patrol.
"Stubborn old fart."
After relaying his plan to Hershel, Daryl had fought to keep somewhat civil as he and the old man went back and forth, before Hershel finally relented.
"If I see a single scratch on one of my horses, you can bet you're gonna know about it."
Daryl brushed off the threat, which was mild at best, and strode over to the stables. He could feel his anxiety rising, his excitement at going out again to look for Sophia climbing. He never even tried to think that she was gone, never to be seen or heard from again. Didn't even let the thought that she had been bit and was now one of the walking dead enter his mind. The younger Dixon was determined to go through hell and back to bring Carol's daughter back alive.
"Hmm, Nelly. I guess you'll do." He stated as he grabbed the bridle, saddle, and the rest of the riding gear hanging on the stable wall.
The horse named Nelly was chestnut and a thoroughbred. Her mane was still glossy and she looked and sounded well fed. Daryl had to give it to Hershel, he definitely took pride in his horses. He understood now why the old man was so reluctant to allow a stranger to take one out in the woods.
Once he mounted Nelly's back, he settled himself into the saddle and grasped the reins, trying to remember that long forgotten day he'd gone horseback riding with his momma and Merle.
"A'right girl, c'mon," He said calmly, pressing his heels into Nelly's sides and sending her into a trot.
Nelly didn't seem nervous about this unfamiliar rider and continued at a smooth trot, happy to finally have someone on her back again. She nickered softly, sensing the excitement in the air around this strange man. She could smell the woods on him and she knew that she could trust him.
As he rode, Daryl couldn't help but glance over at the group's camp. He could smell the beginning of dinner and immediately saw Carol bending over the fire with Lori by her side. The women heard the horse moving through the grass and stopped to look, waving to Daryl and smiling hopefully. He nodded to them, catching Carol's eye one last time before turning his attention to the woods looming in the closing distance.
'I'm comin' Sophia.'
So, was it worth the wait? Leave me a review and let me know! I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I can't wait to start the next. :D
~Paperhearts