Noxi: Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates it! I hope you all are doing well after last night's mid-season finale.
I think you all were pretty receptive to the MPOVs so I think I'll continue to add them – there are certainly plenty here contrary to what I said before! Thank you, as always, for your continued support.
The Walking Dead belongs to Kirkman and AMC
Nothing But a Trick
Sophia lay in bed, listening to the birds sing, thinking they were happier than she'd been in a while. She pulled the covers over her shoulders, shivering against the cold morning air, thinking back to yesterday.
It had been colder, like it was on purpose. She could barely stand it, standing there in the cold, watching as the box lowered into the ground, and mom held her hand. Watching as her dad was lowered into the ground like he was one of the treasure boxes she buried only to dig up later. He wasn't a treasure box. She didn't want to dig him up later. She wanted to ask mom if this was the last time they would ever see him again. She wanted to know if the box could keep him down there forever. She wanted to know why everyone was crying.
She thought they were supposed to be crying. Everyone else was and she knew something about this was sad.
But she wasn't sad, and neither of them had cried.
xXx
If there was one thing Carol had learned best, it was how to move a stubborn horse. Sometimes they required a gentle hand with a gentle voice. She'd whisper to it softly, coaxing them to do what she needed.
And sometimes, it was simply a matter of how hard to put your foot down. Sometimes you just had to let them know that you were in charge and this was how it was going to be.
"I told you," she said, feeling more frustrated as the conversation went on, "no work." She could see him hesitate at the cabin door, still holding his side, his jaw clenching. There was a darkness in his eyes that she hadn't seen before and it made her weary. What had she missed this past week that had him on edge?
She knew he still wasn't ready. It'd only been a week for goodness sake. He expected to be on his feet, working with large animals and working. But how he planned on moving anything heavy with a fractured rib she certainly wanted to know.
She knew better than that. He was being foolish. She'd encountered enough broken bones to know that he needed a month at least before she would want him to go near the heavy lifting. She had made that mistake plenty of times herself and had paid the consequences for it. She wasn't going to let him do the same.
If he pushed himself, he'd only hurt himself further. If he did that, he'd be set up longer than he would want.
"Look – "
She held up a hand, taking a deep breath. She was growing impatient, her own nerves biting at the bit. She'd been fighting off help from everyone in town all week. She'd been fighting off Rick all week. She'd been fighting off her own problems. Her patience was wearing thin and she knew it was only a matter of time before something came out. It didn't help that the funeral had been yesterday and everyone thought that giving her food, or their sympathies or offering her help on the farm would somehow make her feel better. It was even worse when they were avoiding her. They would look at her sidelong, like she couldn't see them. Like she was some freak in a circus.
Nothing was making this better.
"Don't you dare," she said, closing her eyes, hearing how harsh they were even in her own ears. But she didn't want him to push his body. Not when it needed to mend. Not when she was going to need him.
He couldn't do anything right now to help, though she would never tell him that, and she didn't need him to hurt himself further trying to.
"You need to get better," she murmured, meeting his gaze. He looked angry, and in pain, and if she didn't know better he was having trouble looking at her. He chewed at his thumb, shifting agitatedly.
"I ain't gonna sit around and do nothin'," he growled. She sighed heavily, watching as his body grew tenser, coiling up like a knot. She wasn't going to let him work. That was one thing she would not budge on. If he got hurt worse while trying to prove he was still useful, then she'd never forgive herself. And it didn't mean that there weren't things he couldn't do around here if she needed it. He needed to take his time.
But there were no words that she could give him to convince him he could rest and still be useful. She was going to need him. Ed was gone. Nothing could take that back now. All she had was herself in this world now. And Sophia.
But that didn't mean that this man, standing like a wounded animal in front of her, couldn't also be a part of that world.
He'd proven something to her last week when he brought Sophia back to her. He could say whatever he wanted to her, but nothing would change her mind about him now. He'd done that because there was good in him. There was a good man inside of him that he didn't let anyone see and she believed that and no one could convince her otherwise.
He hobbled down the stairs at her prolonged silence, wincing along the way.
"Daryl," she said, stopping him with a hand on his arm.
"I said I ain't lyin' around!" He pulled away from her roughly, gasping as he teetered precariously.
And this time, she didn't stop the anger. She reached out to steady him, gripping his arm tighter than she thought she would. He looked down at her hand, the surprise on his face mirroring the feeling inside of her. But she didn't let that stop her.
"Now you listen to me Daryl Dixon," she said firmly, "I don't want you to get hurt again." She could see the disbelief in his eyes and knew she'd said the wrong thing. But she couldn't deal with it right now. She couldn't fight with him when he wasn't willing to realize that she did need him.
She just couldn't do this.
"Just – " she said exasperated, pushing his arm away, "just go sit in the field with the horses!" she yelled, and turned away, storming back to the house before she said anything more. She should have handled it better. She should have been nicer. She should have been doing so many things differently.
And yet, she just couldn't figure out how.
xXx
She heard her mom slam the front door open and even though she was awake it surprised her. She turned over, Sierra lying at her feet and stared at the open door. Mom never slammed anything. Mom never got angry enough to do anything like that. Usually it had been…
She sat up in bed, looking at Sierra as Sierra looked at her with that lazy look in her gold cat eyes. She listened to the sounds of her mom at the end of the hallway, waiting to see if Sierra would get up and go to her, because as much as Sierra loved her, she loved mom best. They all loved mom best. She loved mom best.
When she couldn't hear anything she stood up and went to the door, peering around the doorway.
She nearly ran out but stopped, gripping the door frame tight as she watched her mom collapse against the wall and slid to the floor. She sat there with her knees drawn to her chest, arms hugging them. She waited, fighting the urge to run to her mom and to not bother her. She didn't know if this was one of those times where she needed to leave her alone or not. How many times had she caught her dad doing things to mom, hitting her so bad that mom couldn't even get up right away?
Mom would just sit there on the floor, staring straight ahead until she curled her knees to her chest and laid her head against them. Sophia would stand there for as long as it took mom to get up and move again. Sometimes mom cried, sometimes she didn't.
But every time she got back up again. No matter how bad it hurt too.
"You can do this," she heard her mom whisper as leaned back to stare up at the ceiling.
"You can do this," she whispered even more fiercely. Sophia watched and waited as her mother sat, softly banging her head against the wall trying to get the will to stand up again.
"You can do this," Sophia whispered, fighting back the tears. She should have gone to her. She shouldn't leave her alone like this.
But then she sat forward, breathed deep and pushed off the wall, standing up. She took a few deep breaths, as she stared at the ceiling and then she strode into the kitchen.
Sophia's eyes burned and she turned back to the bed, climbing in next to Sierra, pulling her into her lap, holding her close. She buried her face in Sierra's fur, letting the tears go, crying quietly.
Her mother never gave up.
And that was the most important thing in the world.
xXx
Dale led Hatcher, his old white out into the field. He walked behind him slowly, picking at the grass at his feet as he went.
"Come on Hatch," he said with a chuckle, tugging him along gently. Hatch blew air through his noise, sounding like an old man being told to do something he didn't want to.
"Oh stop that," he cajoled, rotating his shoulder. "I'm not any younger than you and I still get up to work every morning." Hatch nudged him in the back and Dale laughed, reaching for the gate. He swung it wide, watching as Bluebird galloped around the field, shaking her head, a whinny echoing in the air. Even when she passed by Outlaw, who continued to stare at them as if he were going to kick them every time someone approached.
He shook his head and led Hatch into the pen, closing the gate behind him. Outlaw was a project that he wasn't sure he was prepared to handle. But Carol, she had always given everything to her children. And it didn't matter if Outlaw became an impossible case. She would never give up on him. She would let him live here and she would work with him his whole life if that's what it took.
He turned to undo Hatch's lead when his eyes fell on a shape near the fence. He looked closer, and realized that Daryl was sitting against it, hunched over something. He patted Hatch's side, and walked over to Daryl.
He watched him sit straighter, wincing as he did. Dale shook his head. Daryl was gonna push himself as far he could until he could start working again. But he knew Carol wasn't gonna let him get away with it. If there was one thing she was good at being, it was stubborn. She may have suffered under Ed's hand but she never let the rest of them suffer for it. If she could do anything to make their lives better, she was doing it.
Carol was the gentlest soul he'd ever worked for, especially given her situation. It was one of the only reasons he had never left.
"Good morning Daryl," he greeted. Daryl grunted in return and bowed his head, focusing more intensely on his whittling. Dale had never seen someone with such a fine skill who looked like he would never have picked it up in the first place.
He stood there in silence, watching as Daryl worked until he decided to sit beside him.
Daryl's hands stopped moving but that didn't stop Dale. He felt his knees groan with the effort as he lowered himself to the ground, leaning back with a sigh. He could see why Daryl had picked this spot. He could see the entire farm from this position from his own Winnebago, to the barn and the shed where Outlaw had been kept. And then there was the house where Dale could just make out Carol's shadow moving about in the kitchen.
And if he listened close enough he could just hear the river behind him, rushing quietly. Daryl had chosen this spot well.
"The hell you want?" He glanced over, Daryl's hands still sitting in his lap.
"Just admiring this pleasant view you've found," he answered, ignoring the bite in Daryl's voice, watching as Hatcher idled near Molly, picking at the grass. Most of the horses were out today, enjoying the last bit of fall weather they were getting. Winter was coming on fast this year and he could smell the cold in the air. Snow would come early and he didn't like that.
Daryl grunted next to him, and picked back up the whittling. Dale watched, and he saw a shape taking form.
"Which one are you making?" Daryl looked up, shocked as his hands shook a little.
"What?" Dale gestured to the field where the horses roamed.
"Which horse are you shaping the wood into?" Dale could see the surprise in Daryl's eyes. Maybe the wood wasn't supposed to look like anything yet. Maybe Daryl hadn't expected anyone to figure it out. Maybe he didn't want anyone to know.
But he wasn't going to deny that it was nice to see.
Daryl held his gaze a moment before sighing. "Bluebird," he mumbled, and Dale glanced up to see Blue prancing about Outlaw, testing him further. But Outlaw didn't do anything. He just stood there, tail flicking as Blue nudged him and danced around him and whinnied at his backside. But not once did Outlaw make a move on her. Not once.
And Dale wasn't even surprised. Carol had always been able to judge a horse.
"I didn't know you could whittle," he commented, keeping an eye on the two. Daryl made a noise like it wasn't anything special.
"Ain't nothing," he brushed off, hands moving deftly over the wood, the shape of Blue taking a more specific form. "Just something someone taught me."
Dale could hear the weight behind that statement. It wasn't just something that he picked up from just anyone. It was a skill that had been passed on to him by someone important.
"Hm, well, it looks like a good skill to have. Good for the hands. Good for keeping your mind sharp. Whoever taught you that must have been important," he said off-hand, watching Daryl out of the corner of his eye. He hoped he hadn't stepped out of line. He wanted Daryl to feel comfortable here and he knew this past week had been one hell of a ride.
Anything more to push him and he just might leave. And Carol didn't need any more people to leave right now.
Daryl chewed the bottom of his lip, and there was a moment of thought that crossed his face. It lasted for a long while, to the point where Dale didn't think he would share.
"Bluebird," he called sternly, watching as she went on to bother Hatch next. Hatch wasn't as patient as Outlaw seemed to be, and he wouldn't put up with Blue's antics. She peered back at him and playfully trotted away.
"My brother," he muttered. Dale turned, wondering if he had really heard him. That was a bit of information to store away.
Daryl continued whittling, eyes cast down. Dale didn't say anything, hoping that Daryl wouldn't stop.
"When I was young he'd…" Daryl's hands slowed as he looked up, eyes taking on a faraway look. "This was his thing then…" His hands were shaking then as he gripped the small knife tight and Dale could see the memory in his face as it twisted, morphing into something dark.
"Ain't nothing but a damn hand trick," he muttered angrily, whittling faster, shaving away more than was probably intended.
xXx
She burnt it; the grilled cheese. She burnt the food. Never had she ever burned food before. She'd been staring out the window, thinking about Sky Dancer, thinking Outlaw, about Daryl, about Sophia's question to her in the car and she had lost time.
She had burnt food.
Ed.
She turned around, gripping the edge of the sink, waiting for him to come rushing down the steps asking what the hell the smell was and wondering why she'd burned his lunch. The fear of the pain that awaited her gripped her so tight her stomach began to ache.
And then it hit her – he wasn't there.
She swallowed back the lump in her throat and turned back to the food, watching the black mess smoke softly. She reached forward to open the window, breathing deep as the cold air blew across her face.
Ed was gone. Ed was gone. And no one was going to hurt her for burning food, or not cooking breakfast on time. She didn't have to do things by his schedule or keep track of his moods. She wouldn't have to take a beating, or give him sex when he wanted it. She was alone now. It was just her.
She was a widow.
She released a breath, as her chest lightened.
She was a widow and that didn't even bother her like she knew it should have. And for once since all that had happened, she smiled.
She picked up the pan and began scraping the grilled cheese out into the garbage. She didn't know what she was going to do now that Ed was no longer there. Winter was coming early this year. She could feel it in the air, and with one less person to work the farm, even if he had been more trouble than necessary sometimes, he was still muscle when she needed it. Now she only had Dale and Daryl.
Two men for more than a hundred head of cattle and six horses, not including Nettle. She knew they were all good, but she wasn't sure they were that good. If the winter was coming on early it was only going to get rough as well.
She sighed, scrubbing at the pan vigorously, feeling like she had just gained another problem instead of losing one.
"Should we leave it on the porch or knock?"
Carol stopped washing the pan, hearing the voice drift through the open window. She leaned forward and caught sight of two heads poking around the front porch.
"I think we can just leave them here. It's cold enough that they won't spoil." Carol dropped the pan into the sink and fled from the kitchen, not even bothering to dry her hands. She flung open the front door, knowing exactly what was happening.
When she stepped out she nearly tripped over something and when she looked down, it was a pan at her feet.
"What's the meaning of this?" She looked up in time to see Patricia and Donna step back warily, their hands clutched behind them.
"We were, uh, just stopping by," Donna said nervously, continuing down the stair backwards, looking to Patricia for help. Carol stepped outside, her wet hands propped to her hips.
"We brought you food," Patricia said softly, looking sympathetic.
Carol glanced down at the several dishes that had somehow made their way to her porch. She had no idea how any of them had gotten there.
"Oh these all aren't from us," Patricia said quickly. "A few people from town thought you might like…some food. To help." Now Patricia was taking a few steps backwards and if she hadn't Carol would have pushed her along. She liked Patricia, had always been friendly with Otis and Patricia. But right now, she didn't need this.
There were eight dishes in all, filled with food. Food she had never asked for. Food that people thought she needed. She bent over to pick one up and found a casserole in one, something Jeanette probably made by the design on the dish.
She stared at it for a moment, listening to the sounds of more car tires pull up to the house, and she couldn't help but hate the sight of it all.
She didn't need this. She didn't need any help from anyone. This was charity and she was not a charity case. She could cook her own food and she could certainly take care of her family.
"I don't need this," she said abruptly, holding the dish up. Donna glanced at Patricia nervously.
"We just thought you might like some comfort, in this time," Patricia said softly, ever so sweet. Rick and Lori approached the house and Carol got angrier at the sight of Rick. She knew what he was here for and suddenly she didn't want him on her property.
"I said I don't need it," she said angrily.
"Carol, is everything alright?" She turned to Lori who was fast approaching the porch and held up the food for her to see.
"I don't need this!" she yelled, agitated, feeling like her chest was going to explode. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and those who needed her.
"Carol, people just want to help. It's okay," Lori said softly, trying to placate her.
"It's not okay," she spat, throwing the dish down the steps, watching as the food splattered across the ground. The women look appalled and Carol should have been grateful the dish didn't break. She was probably going to have to return it. But she didn't care. She didn't need these people's charity. She wasn't useless.
"If you can just calm down," Lori called, shuffling Patricia and Donna out of the way.
"Don't you tell me to calm down. Don't you condescend to me." Lori stood stunned, and Carol watched as Patricia and Donna scurried away, hoping to avoid the argument any further. Rick stood back, watching her uncertainly and she was glad that he did otherwise she would have tore into him as well.
"No, Carol that's not what I – "
"Everyone either avoids me or overprotects me," she snapped, feeling like she should stop while she was ahead. She couldn't believe the nerve of them.
"I lost my husband, I'm not useless," she barked. She heaved an angry breath, and turned back around, flinging the door open.
"Carol!" Rick called. She spun on her heel, and stepped forward, letting the door slam shut against her shoulder. The anger boiled inside and she wasn't going to let him say one damn thing.
"Get off my property Rick. Unless you have a warrant I don't want to see you here again," she seethed, feeling more protective than she had in a long time.
And then she left them standing there, stunned and stormed back inside where she collapsed in the hallway and didn't get back up again.
xXx
Daryl finished whittling the horse and he wasn't happy with it. He'd told Dale he was makin' Bluebird and that had been the intent. But somewhere along the way he'd let his emotions control his hands and he lost the shape. He'd shaved off too much wood, and put in too much definition around the hips, less around the face. He'd done alright with the mane but he couldn't stand to look at the face. Too long and uneven.
He wanted to throw it away but…
He couldn't. He'd made it for a reason.
He sighed and set it to the side, watching as Outlaw slowly made his way over to Hatch, the old white horse that Dale had led into the field. He didn't ever remember meeting that one, but he figured out quick it was Dale's. Horse was too much like him not to be.
Outlaw stood by him warily, waiting to see what the old horse would do. And when he did nothing, Outlaw slowly began to graze and relax, just the slightest. Horse was still wary around all of them but Daryl could see he was trying.
Maybe that said something.
Sky Dancer still stood in the same place, staring at the house. Daryl knew he was watching Carol. Horse had been doing that all morning. Even when she'd stormed out when those ladies had been bringing food to the porch and she'd given them a run for their money.
Daryl couldn't believe the sight of her, yelling at all those ladies, tellin'em off. Now that was a sight. He chuckled, gripping at his side. He didn't think Carol had it in her to get like that. But then, he'd seen her this morning.
"I don't want you to get hurt again."
He stared off, not really believin' she'd said it to begin with. No one…
He glanced down, running the knife along the back of his hand, over the scars that riddled him. No one had ever said nothin' like that before. Sure, Merle did whatever he could to stop the ol' man from hurtin' him, whether it was takin' the beatings or whatever new mark he wanted to inflict on them. But Merle wasn't like this.
Merle was tough, and hard. He was the uncorked whiskey you left on the back porch for a few days. He was the old leather belt that was ready snap from too much use. He was the dog they bred to fight, and if you had enough meat scraps for him, he'd serve ya good. You put another fighter in front of him, he'd take him out. And if you gave him something to protect? He did what he did to protect it. But one wrong move, one wrong word, look and he'd tear you limb from limb.
Merle had been good in the only way Merle knew how.
But this, this was something different. He didn't know how to handle people tiptoeing around him, and treatin' him like he was chipped glass ready to drop. He didn't know how to handle this gentleness. The last time someone had grabbed him like that they'd meant to hurt him. He didn't know what kindness was.
He couldn't believe she'd raised her voice like that either. Didn't think she had it in her. Course, everyone had the strength to do a lot a things. He just didn't think he'd ever witness a woman like Carol gettin' like that.
He didn't really blame her. People bringing you all that food like you couldn't take care of yerself. People always asking you if you was okay. People constantly botherin' you or avoidin' you. Goddamn pony show. What did they think she was? A cripple now that her husband was dead? She'd been doing a whole lot more shit when he was alive. Why hadn't they been cooking for her then? Why hadn't they been takin' care a her then? Why didn't they care then?
He shook his head. People confused him.
People just didn't get it. Woman like Carol had been takin' care a herself for a long time and they wanted to come around now and do something about that?
Sometimes he didn't wonder if it was just so they felt better. Cos they didn't do something long before and all they got to do is this now. Damn waste is what it was. Failed attempt to try and console yourself when you hadn't done anything. He remembered a whole buncha kids tryin' to be all nice when his Ma had left him when he were a kid. He just wanted to punch'em in the face. Half of'em had been real jerks.
They didn't mean it. They only felt bad cos he was comin' in with more bruises than before and his Ma wasn't there to do nothin' about it no more. And now, they all could see it.
People were assholes.
"Daryl." He jumped, biting back the cry of pain as he flinched to the side. He turned around, holding back as the pain seared hotter, and saw Sophia squatting behind him. Why did everyone feel like they hadta come see him?
"The hell are you doin' out here?" he barked. She didn't flinch at his words, didn't respond right away. She just watched the horses for a moment in silence.
"I saw my mom," she whispered. He grimaced, and glanced back, seeing that she wasn't in the kitchen. He thought she was supposed to be in school.
"Ain't you supposed to be in school?" She smiled a little, and sat on the other side of the fence, fiddling with some grass. He could see her pack slung over her back as she hunched over her knees.
"Mom doesn't like people trying to take care of her," she said, pulling at her shoelaces now. He leaned back and breathed deep, letting the pain numb. "I didn't think she'd get that upset though," she murmured.
Daryl grunted, knowing that people were different. He'd never taken charity either.
"Hey," she said suddenly, hand reaching out between the posts next to him, "what's this?" He didn't even have time to stop her as she picked up the horse next to him.
"I – uh…nothing," he mumbled, hiding his face. He hadn't wanted anyone to see it. She turned it over in her hands, and a smile crept over her face.
"It's Blue," she whispered softly, as her fingers grew gentler with it. She looked up at him. "It's pretty," she said with that wonder in her voice that he had always admired about kids. They never knew how to hide nothing that ever meant something to them. If they really liked it, ya knew. If they didn't, ya knew.
"I fucked it up," he mumbled, hating that it looked so deformed. He saw Sophia staring at him and then he realized what he'd said.
"Shit," he muttered, and then bit his lip, staring at her pleadingly. "Don't listen ta me. I'm say stupid shit." And then he heard himself saying it again, and growled in frustration. "Just a dumb redneck," he muttered, waiting, knowing he should a been more fuckin' careful round this girl, should a kept his damn mouth shut.
But then she smiled, her lips curving up just the slightest. And Daryl stared like he'd never seen nothing like it before. It was the most open smile he'd ever seen and he didn't see none a the fear he usually did in her eyes.
"I don't think you're dumb," she whispered, holding the horse tight to her chest as if it were a prized treasure.
Her smile grew broader as the silence stretched between them, and he cleared his throat, feeling stupid.
"Well I am," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head, "stupid. Don't know nothin' about nothin'." And she just kept smiling, tucking her chin to her chest. He watched as she shook her head, fingers caressing the horse lovingly.
He had no idea what to do. He weren't good with kids, and he sure as hell didn't want to fuck it up with Carol's. Girl had enough shit on her plate that she didn't need him adding to it.
"Can I keep it?" she asked softly, looking up at him. He nearly said no, and he wanted to. But he could see in her eyes that she wanted it. That damn genuine feeling that he'd been searching for his whole life. She actually wanted that worthless piece of junk.
He swallowed the emotion in his chest, clenching his jaw, and nodded, unable to say no.
"Keep it," he grumbled. "Not like I got any use for it." And he watched as her face lit up, her hand reaching through the fence post to grab ahold of his shirt. He flinched back in surprise but she didn't seem to notice.
"Thank you," she murmured before turning around and taking off toward the river.
He watched her back disappear before him, and all he could think was how he'd made her happy with a shoddy piece of wood. One piece of wood had made that little girl, who'd suffered so much and not deserved one lick of it, happy.
And that had been his goal all along.
He ducked his head, and buried the feelings in his chest before it consumed him.
xXx
She had been hoping that the rest of the day would go quietly, and she would be left alone. But as she was cleaning out the stalls she heard the approach of tires on the road and sighed heavily, pulling herself up and gathering her strength to send away whoever it was. She didn't want any more visitors for the day, especially after what had happened earlier.
She walked out of the barn, petting Lincoln as she went and stopped short at the sight of Hershel's truck parked out front, the trailer with it.
"Hi Carol." She smiled as Beth, Hershel's youngest daughter, jumped down from the truck and approached her without any hesitation, and pulled her into a warm hug.
Carol held back for a moment, feeling those small arms grip her tight before responding. She wrapped her arms around Beth, laying her head against her shoulder softly.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered in her ear, and Carol stiffened, "I know things were hard, but I know this isn't easy either." She closed her eyes and bit her lip to stop the sudden tears.
She knew Beth, knew the young girl to be sweet and good-natured. But her words, no matter how she had intended them, nearly had her collapsing in her arms.
Because even if Beth didn't understand it had always been hard and it still wasn't easy. And to hear the words out loud meant so much to her. She swallowed back the sudden lump in her throat, clearing it softly and pushed away before she truly fell apart.
She hadn't done that yet since Ed had died and she wasn't going to now.
"Thank you," she murmured hoarsely, and squeezed Beth's shoulder gratefully, watching as a big smile graced her face.
"Of course," she said sweetly.
"Carol," Hershel greeted, extending a hand to her. She took it gratefully, as he placed the other over hers, holding it gently.
"Good to see you," he said warmly, his eyes crinkling. She nodded, still holding back the emotion. She took a breath and looked at the trailer.
"What brings you here?" She didn't remember calling Hershel, or making any plans. And no one had told her about anything. This was a surprise and she wasn't sure she was ready for any more. She was quite ready for things to settle down.
Beth turned to Hershel and smiled broadly. "Can I daddy?" she asked excitedly and Hershel chuckled before nodding.
"Hershel, please, whatever it is I don't need any more surprises. I've had enough going on these past few weeks, and I'm sure…" Hershel watched her as she fell silent, his smile growing wider as each second passed.
Carol couldn't believe it. She should have known, but with everything that had happened hope seemed like such a far-off thing. And this had certainly never crossed her mind.
She watched as Beth walked down the ramp, and pulled a horse with her. But it wasn't just any horse.
"Oh my god," she gasped, hands covering her mouth as her knees shook.
Beth pulled Tiger Lily down the ramp slowly, coaxing her softly.
"I wasn't ready to part with her after our meeting," Hershel said as Beth led Tiger Lily toward them slowly, patiently. Tiger Lily looked around tentatively and Carol approached her, stunned, unable to find the words. She had given up on this horse because Ed would have made her life here hell.
"Hershel, I…" She couldn't do this. It – it just wouldn't work. She wouldn't be able to take the workload. They were already tight as it was.
But then she met Tiger Lily half way, sliding her hands along her cheeks, and it was right.
Tiger Lily was a little hesitant but Carol was patient. And that patience only needed a moment before Tiger Lily was leaning into Carol's touch, leaning into her chest and snuffing softly.
Carol almost cried.
"Maggie and I have been working with her," Beth said cheerfully, passing her the reigns. "She's a lover deep down, even if she's wary of people." Carol couldn't stop staring at her, couldn't stop caressing her face, watching as those eyes stared at her longingly. She was beautiful, and she was here, and she was –
"Mine?" she whispered. Beth nodded, the smile on her face so big Carol couldn't help but return it. She laughed, leaning her head forward against Tiger Lily's.
"I'll take care of you," she whispered, rubbing her neck. Tiger Lily closed her eyes and pushed against her.
"She likes you," Beth murmured, still smiling.
She felt a gentle hand along her back and turned to see Hershel behind her. "You're sure?" he asked.
She turned to Tiger Lily, their eyes connecting and she knew it wasn't even a question. She would take Tiger Lily, no matter what it would do to her.
"There's nothing stopping me now," she whispered, meeting Hershel's gaze. Because there was nothing stopping her now. Maybe it would put a strain on everything. Maybe it might have been a mistake. Maybe she would break herself trying to care for this farm now.
But it wouldn't matter.
She would love Tiger Lily, and care for her. She would treat her with kindness, and give her a good home. She would show her what a family was and protect her from the evils of this world. And she would never let her suffer again.
Ed hadn't been able to take this away from her after all.
Hershel nodded, like he'd been expecting that answer, and squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. "Then we'll leave you to it."
"Bye Lily," Beth said, reaching forward to rub her generously. And Carol watched as they walked away, Tiger Lily shifting a bit nervously before her. She rubbed her softly, cooing to her.
"If you need anything," Hershel called from the truck, tilting his head knowingly, "don't hesitate to call now." She bit her lip to stop from crying and nodded. She raised her hand in farewell, Hershel doing the same.
And she watched as they backed away, leaving her alone with Tiger Lily.
And the bit of loneliness that had been eating at her today, that had been trying to overwhelm her, grew smaller. And she didn't feel like everything was falling apart.
xXx
Daryl had sat out in that field all day, watching as Carol and Dale had gone about the farm, doing their work, taking care of things all day. He tried to ignore it as the pain in his side echoed on, but eventually he just couldn't take it anymore.
This was exactly what he didn't want.
He got up unsteadily, and walked after Carol as she led the last horse into the stable, leaving Outlaw and Sky Dancer outside again for the night.
It hurt with each step he took, and by the time he reached the gate Carol was already walking back out. And when he saw her face he stopped short. He wasn't sure what he'd been planning on sayin' to her, but now it was like he didn't have any words.
So he just stood there, staring at her, growing nervous as time passed.
"Daryl," she called confused, approaching him. He wanted to turn and walk away. But he knew with his injury he wouldn't get far enough away from her.
"I-uh, I'm feeling fine ta work," he muttered, trying to stand up straight as he could without letting the pain show. He needed to work. He couldn't sit here and not do nothin' again tomorrow or all week for that matter. It was gonna kill him if he had to sit around and watch them all work double just cos he couldn't do shit.
He could feel Carol's eyes on him, and he felt the sweat build on his skin, and when he looked up she was staring at him.
"What?" he barked, switching his weight to his other foot.
"Daryl" she said, watching him, biting her bottom lip, eyes flickering to his side. "It's just…"
He watched the hesitation cloud her eyes and he knew what she was gonna say before she even opened her mouth.
"Ya know, don't even bother," he growled as he turned around and left, knowing he was useless. If she'd a just let him do more than just sit on his ass then he wouldn't have to feel like a fuckin' kid who needed coddlin'. He could take care of himself. He could still help. He could be useful.
"Daryl wait!" she called but he didn't stop. He kept walking as fast as he could away from her. He heard the gate open, and he knew he didn't have anywhere to go inside here but he kept going. He didn't need her to see how weak he was, how weak he felt.
"Daryl," she said exasperatedly, and he turned just as her fingers curled around his arm.
He froze as her fingers dug into his skin slightly, and he couldn't help but look down at her hand in shock. That was the second time she'd touched him today like that.
Her grip loosened as she caught his expression, but she didn't let go. He looked up in time to see the hesitation cut clear across her face, and she swallowed hard.
"Daryl please," she begged, as her hand fell away from his arm, fingers grazing across his skin. He almost flinched back at the shiver that ran over him, and he shut it down fast.
"What?" he snapped, stepping back. "The hell you want? You don't want me to work, but you ain't kicked me out yet. Doesn't make any damn sense," he muttered angrily.
She sighed and rubbed her arms. "I need you to just listen to me," she said meeting his eyes. "Just listen." And it was like she was trying to tell him something with her eyes. "I need you to get better," she said softly, hugging herself tight, nails digging into her skin.
"I need you Daryl," she said tightly, the worry shadowing her face. He took another step back, unable to believe the words comin' out a her mouth. No one had ever needed him before. No one had ever told him they needed him. Not like that.
"Don't think that I don't," she murmured, and turned away, her shoulders heaving.
"What do I have left if you're gone too?" she whispered, gazing up into the sky.
Daryl didn't think he meant nothing to nobody, ever, and he wanted to tell her she were wrong and that he couldn't stay here. But as she walked away, her head pulled into her chest he just couldn't find the words.
xXx
"Sophia?" Dale turned the corner to Bluebirds stall and found Sophia sitting in the hay, Lincoln at her feet, and Blue picking at the hay below her. She only looked up at him briefly before turning back to her hands, turning something over.
"Hey Dale," she said absently. He watched her for a moment, as she stared at the wooden piece that Daryl had been working on earlier.
"Hey," he said, realizing what must have happened, "Daryl give that to you?" Sophia looked up confused.
"No," she said slowly, "I asked him if I could have it." It didn't sound right to Dale, but Sophia had never really been one to lie.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she said, holding it up, a wondering smile on her face. And Dale knew then that no matter what Daryl's intention of the thing may have been he couldn't have been able to deny that face.
He laughed. "It sure is." He turned, heading off to finish locking up the rest of the stables, checking that everyone was tucked in for the night.
"Make sure you head on inside soon," he called, smiling when he heard her small 'yeah' follow.
xXx
She was sitting on the porch, watching as Daryl continued to sit vigilantly in the field with both Sky Dancer and Outlaw. She hadn't expected that after what had happened earlier. She'd expected him to yell at her, to get angry, to run off again.
But he'd surprised her. He'd stayed there, in his corner of the field and watched them like it had become the one thing he could hold onto. She hated that it was all she could give him right now. She hated that she had pushed him into that. She didn't want him to feel like he was obligated to stay here.
She had never wanted to make anyone feel like they couldn't leave. She'd been forced to stay here, in this situation her whole marriage. She wasn't that person. Didn't want to be.
But she couldn't deny that she was glad that Daryl had decided to stay there. The more he stayed around the horses, the more comfortable he became around them. And sooner she'd be able to start introducing him to them without fear of him rejecting them all.
Regardless, it was getting colder as the sun began to set and she wasn't sure how far he was going to take it. It wasn't so dangerous up there that she couldn't leave her horses out to pasture, but that didn't mean she couldn't worry either. If Daryl wanted to stay out there all night, and it made him feel useful that way, she wasn't going to object.
So she got up, carrying the blanket from the swing and headed for the field, feeling the ache in her back. She'd done a lot of work today and that wasn't going to change. Plus with the new addition of Tiger Lily, things were going to be even busier.
She sighed.
Just like Ed to die on her now.
Daryl glanced up as she approached and immediately dropped his head once he made eye contact. She sighed, knowing that despite what had happened earlier, she was going to have to accept it. Whatever was going on with him, they would get through whatever this was.
Because he was still here.
"Daryl," she called, draping the blanket across the fence, leaning her elbows over it. She looked down at him for a moment, watching as he stroked Vangeline who sat in his lap.
"Vange?" Daryl's hand stilled and Vangeline glanced up at her briefly, before looking away and ignoring her completely. Just like Vangeline. She was as fickle as they came. One minute she loved you, one minute she didn't. She was everyone's lady, and no one's.
"I didn't know you liked cats," she said, more than a little surprised. She didn't really pin Daryl for a cat person, or an animal person really but that was something to judge with time she supposed.
"Don't," he said on a sigh, petting Vangeline once again. She cozied into his lap further, and Carol could practically see the smug satisfaction on her face from behind. She gave a little ahh.
"Then it's you Vange likes," she said, watching as they both sat there patiently, in each other's company. It surprised her that he would let Vangeline sit with him and that he would reciprocate to her wants. Vangeline was a temperamental cat, and she didn't just pick anyone. Seemed she too had taken a liking to Daryl.
Daryl shrugged his shoulders, grunting. She smiled.
He was going to continue to surprise her.
"Vangeline doesn't like many people," she said softly, setting the blanket down at his side carefully. He looked up at her side-long, lips pursed. "But when she does she won't ever let you forget it." Daryl looked down at the cat in his lap and she nearly laughed out loud. He looked as if he realized he had gotten himself into something he wasn't ready for.
"It's alright," she said, thumping the fence post as she turned to leave.
"Vange won't let you down. Once she's with you, she's with you." She smiled gently at Daryl over her shoulder, and went back to the house.
xXx
Daryl watched Carol make her way back to the house as the clawing in chest subsided. It wasn't the cat, but he wished it had been.
It was her. The way she'd smiled at him, a small hopeful thing that he didn't really understand. He didn't know hope. He didn't know what it was like to be happy. All it did was make him feel uneasy.
He felt nails dig deep into his legs, and he turned to Vangeline sitting in his lap, catching her eyes glowing up at him.
"What?" She stared at him for a long moment before retracting her nails and closing her eyes slowly.
But it wasn't her. It was the way she had made him feel while she'd smiled at him. It made him feel wanted, needed. Something he hadn't felt in a long damn time.
"No," he growled softly, hands curling in the blanket next to him. He couldn't think that. Couldn't let himself get caught up in that feeling. One day she would realize that he was worthless and a stupid redneck and he'd be gone from here.
One day he'd have to leave all this.
He looked around, taking in everything that he'd come to appreciate in such a short time. This past week had been different. He'd come to hate how much he loved it here. This was like the home he had never had.
This was the like the home he could have.
But he couldn't. He couldn't let himself fall for that. She'd see just how useless he would be soon and that would be that. No use in gettin' his hopes up when they'd be shattered soon.
He sighed, pushing away the pain in his side, in his chest and leaned his head back, staring up at the darkening sky.
It was cold, but the night would be beautiful. Already the sun was setting and splashin' color across the sky like a painting he'd never see. He could pretend it was still Georgia and not even have to worry about –
He turned too fast at the sound of tires on dirt, and flinched, but watched as headlights speared across the farm. He stood up abruptly and Vangeline ran off. He didn't think Carol had been expecting anyone else today and it was gettin' late in the day.
He saw her run off the porch and toward the car and he realized what her hurry was about.
It was a police car.
Rick stepped out of the car and Carol talked with him quietly, gesturing wildly as he pushed a paper in her direction. He wasn't sure this was going to end well, but he wasn't in good enough shape to do anything about it.
He opened the gate and stepped out, making sure it swung shut behind him and approached the others quietly. He made sure to keep the barn in front of him as the voices drifted louder towards him.
"Carol, I'm sorry, but you left me with no choice. This is a town affair now – "
"Rick, I swear on everything I own I won't let you do this." There was a noise, and Daryl peeked around the corner just in time to see Officer Shane grab Carol by the wrist and pull her away from Rick.
"Carol, we gave you your chance to let us do our job the easy way," Shane said evenly, releasing her wrist then. "You didn't give us but no choice to do it the hard way."
Daryl felt a sudden urge to slam the officer's face into the hood of the car. He slipped out from the barn and the shadows and approached them, knowing he could do nothing but not able to stand by and just watch.
"The hell you want?" he growled, feeling some satisfaction as they both whipped their heads in his direction. If they thought putting a hand on Carol was okay after what she had been through then they were wrong.
Rick nodded to Shane and he stopped short, as something suddenly didn't feel right.
"Dammit Rick, no!" Carol yelled grabbing his arm, surprising Daryl again.
And then Shane was pulling a pair of cuffs out and had him by the arm, and Daryl didn't think.
He just slammed his fist into Shane's face before buckling under the pain of his side. Shane groaned once before wrenching his arms behind his back without regard for his side, and Daryl yelped out in pain before biting down hard on his lip to stifle it.
"Rick, don't you do this. Don't," Carol pleaded angrily, watching helplessly as Shane hauled Daryl to the squad car and stuffing him into the back.
And as he thought of all the times that he'd faced the back of a red and blue he had never once cared to watch the scene that had unfolded outside. It had never mattered. Merle had either been with him, or Merle had made a quick escape. But now, as he watched Carol argue and fight with Rick and begin to cry, he began to wonder what it was that he had been missing all along.
A/N: So I just teased the hell out of you guys, I know, but...just wait. Thank you for reading as always! You are the best!
p.s. I also haven't watched the last 2 episodes of TWD so please don't spoil me if you leave a review! Thanks!