The Spare Room
Summary: The bills keep piling up and if Daryl Dixon has any hope of improving his life, he and his brother are going to have to find someone to fill their spare room. The problem is that while he can't stand his new roommate, he finds himself falling for his roommate's girlfriend. Caryl. AU.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters that you recognize from the Walking Dead.
Chapter 2
"Ya gonna like him," Merle predicted, grinning over at Daryl.
"Doubt it," Daryl growled, collapsing onto the couch, still wearing his boots and overalls from work. Merle had been hounding him about the prospective roommate since lunchtime, when Merle met the man in question. His name was Ed Peletier and he worked at the local hardware store. Over lunch, Merle had been told to go to the store to order some parts and Ed had been the guy to help him. Merle had offhandedly mentioned that they had a room to rent and Ed had said that he was just saying to his girlfriend how he needed to find his own place. Apparently the man had been living with his parents since high school.
"Don't be a wet fuckin' blanket, Baby Brother," Merle said, strolling into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water, "This is a good damn thing. One step closer to savin' a little dough."
"We don't even know this guy," Daryl protested. He leaned his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. He had a damn headache coming on thanks to the early hour he had to wake for work, the hot Georgia heat, and the incessant chatter from Merle.
"So we get to know him," Merle said, coming back into the room with his head tipped back as he drained his glass. He polished off the water and set the glass on the coffee table, "He's your damn age…give or take a year or two. Works at a hardware store. What's not to like?"
"Probably lots of things," Daryl grumbled, "Bet he snores or sleepwalks or some damn shit."
"And why d'ya care?" Merle wondered, "Guy's got himself a lady friend so I don't think he's interested in shackin' up with ya."
"Fuck off," Daryl groaned, "My room's next to the spare one and the walls in this place are paper thin. Bad enough I can hear you."
"Get ear plugs," Merle shot at him as he wandered around the room, "The hell's the remote?"
"The hell ya care?" Daryl asked, raising his head up, "Only get two damn channels."
"And whose fault is that, Penny Pincher?" Merle snapped back, "Wanna watch the news."
Daryl rolled his eyes and then began the process of kicking off his boots without actually bending down to unlace them. He'd never understand Merle's fascination with the news. Daryl really wasn't that interested in who was getting bombed or which politician got hauled in for fucking prostitutes. Merle, on the other hand, watched the news every day when they got home from work. Daryl suspected that Merle only did it so that he wouldn't run out of things to complain about during the next workday…and Merle complained a lot.
The brothers moved to Cranwall five months ago at the urging of one of Merle's pals. Merle had pissed off the wrong people up in Louisville and was looking for a place to lie low for a while. Their boss, Danny, had put Merle in contact with Hal Larken, the director of the local county's road crew. Danny and Hal apparently went way back so Hal was pretty willing to give the Dixon boys a chance. They both got jobs working for the road crew and while it was hard work, they were well-paid for it, especially Merle because he had his tickets to operate a bunch of different heavy duty equipment. Daryl was not so well-trained and was placed on the ditch spraying crew. His job was to walk the ditches behind a truck and spray herbicide on any trees growing there. The idea was to kill the trees before they grew large enough to hide wildlife from motorists and before their roots could fuck with the road. It was a shit job. The chemicals stunk and he had to wear plastic white overalls over his clothes. They got fucking hot. In addition, the rules were pretty damn finicky when it came to spraying. If it was too windy, Daryl couldn't spray or he'd risk the wrath of angry farmers as they bitched him out for getting chemical in their crop. On those days, Daryl and his partner, Kevin, would go out into the county and replace busted up road signs. It was exhausting work and while it paid less than Merle's job fixing roads, the pay was still better than a lot of other work Daryl had done over the years.
The money was the reason the Dixons stayed in Cranwall. Daryl's heart was set on saving for college and though Merle grumbled about it, he was the one who suggested that they stay so that Daryl could save up. Merle himself had no interest in saving, but was willing to stay in the town so that Daryl could scrape together his money.
Daryl succeeded in kicking off his boots and then worked the plastic overalls off his body. Technically, he was supposed to throw them out after each use, but they only had so many of these things in Daryl's size. Going a size bigger meant he'd be tripping over himself and going a size smaller meant he'd split the overalls in the ass area and give Merle a good laugh. Daryl threw the overalls by the door and then heaved himself up to go take a shower. After that, he had every intention of going to bed and sleeping until morning. All thoughts of his new roommate could wait until the man was actually moving in.
0 – TSR – 0
Two days later, Daryl was sitting in the passenger's seat of the spray truck, chewing on his sandwich as he bounced his knee up and down.
"What's with you?" Kevin Jones asked from the driver's side as he scrapped the last bit of rice pudding out of the little plastic dish. Daryl glanced over at his work partner with a raised eyebrow.
"Ain't nothin'," Daryl replied. Kevin set his spoon down in his lunch box and pushed his square-framed glasses back up his nose.
"You're fidgety. Shaking," Kevin observed, nodding towards Daryl's bouncing leg, "I haven't seen you this worked up since Merle disappeared up to Atlanta for that week back in March."
Daryl scowled, hating that it was so easy for Kevin to read him, but then again, they did spend ten hours a day together. He huffed and explained, "Ain't no big thing. New roommate's movin' in after work is all."
"New roommate?" Kevin asked, perking up, "Anyone I'd know?"
Kevin probably did know Peletier. Unlike Daryl, Kevin grew up in this town. He was nineteen and took a year off to make some money. In September, he was going to school for engineering. He was some kind of brainiac.
"Ed Peletier," Daryl said, "Ya know him?"
"Oh yeah," Kevin said, reaching for his second sandwich, "He was a senior when I was a sophomore. He was a big footballer until he got in a car accident that screwed up his knee. Last I heard he was dating Carol Taylor."
"Who's that?" Daryl asked, only because he figured that if Ed was living in his house, he'd eventually have to meet the girlfriend.
"Carol Ann Taylor?" Kevin repeated, "She was in my class. Still don't know what she's doing with him. All through school, she was this good girl. Never partied. Never went out with anybody. Then she turned eighteen, went to one party, and the next thing you know, she's going steady with Ed…and she could do a lot better than Ed Peletier. Word is that her momma and daddy don't approve. They probably heard all about what a horndog he was in high school…and her dad's been known to have it out with his pa. Mr. Taylor works at the bank and doesn't like the way Mr. Peletier runs his car lot. Mr. Peletier likes to screw his customers over…charge them a ridiculous amount of money for a lemon. Mr. Taylor don't like that," Kevin prattled on. Daryl supressed a groan. He should have known better than to get Kevin started on something; the man could go on for hours with the gossip. He was worse than a damn girl…and Merle had a theory or two about why that was. After letting Kevin continue talking about the Taylors and the Peletiers for another minute, Daryl began the process of zipping up his plastic coveralls, which were now more brown than white at this point, and reached down for the green neoprene gloves that he was required to wear.
"Hey, I thought it was my turn to go out," Kevin protested, noticing that Daryl was getting ready to go back outside.
"Give me a half-hour," Daryl grumbled. He opened his door and stepped out into the heat, which was made about five degrees hotter by the fucking overalls, and moved to the back of the truck, flicking on the generator and pulling to hose out of its roll. Then he resumed his spraying, squeezing the nozzle and aiming for the trees in the ditch, dousing the leaves with the foul-smelling chemical. In a week's time, those trees would be dead. Merle often wondered if Daryl the tree-hugger ever had an identity crisis over killing the defenceless trees in the ditch. Daryl just told him to fuck off. Kevin pulled the truck forward, creeping up the road, and Daryl began to walk on the shoulder, spraying trees as he went. It was a lame, boring job, but it was still better than driving. Daryl liked being able to stretch his legs and walk. Spraying distracted him and made it so he didn't have to think about the intruder that would be invading his home in six hours.
0 - TSR – 0
It wasn't in Merle Dixon's nature to help other people unless he was getting something out if it. In this case, he was getting a break on rent money, so he figured that he should lend his new roommate a hand with the bed, the dresser, and the four boxes that Ed had to cart into the house. Daryl still wasn't home from work, which wasn't uncommon. It was a nice, clear day with little to no wind to speak of so chances were that Daryl and Kevin would stay out as long as they had daylight. It was probably for the best, Merle thought as he carried a box labelled 'football trophies' towards the spare room where Ed was cursing as he put the bed together. Daryl could be a fidgety little asshole, especially if he was around new folks. Heck, Merle wouldn't be surprised if Daryl ran straight for his room when he actually got home.
"Wanna hold this end up?" Ed asked, gesturing to the bedframe. Merle set down his box and then walked up. He saw the problem quickly and turned over the piece that Ed was having trouble with.
"Might be easier this way," Merle supplied, holding the piece while Ed screwed it in.
"Fuckin' brain's all fried as hell," Ed grumbled as he worked, "Eight damn hours doing nothing but inventory."
"Ain't that the shit, Man," Merle agreed, "Try ten hours on damn packer goin' back and forth over asphalt all damn day."
"Jesus and I thought I had it bad," Ed chuckled, "What I wouldn't give for a beer and a good fuck."
"I could help ya out in the beer department, but ya on ya own in the fuckin'," Merle said, reaching for another piece of the bedframe.
"Probably am on my own tonight," Ed said sourly, "My girl keeps blowin' me off…and not in the good way. Says she don't wanna get caught sneakin' out of her parents place."
Merle snorted, "The hell? She's still livin' with Ma and Pa? Ya cradle-robbin'?"
"She's livin' at home while she's back from school," Ed explained dryly, "Has all these big ideas about goin' to cookin' school and openin' her own food joint. Pain in the ass, all this schoolin' shit. She don't realize that once we're married, the only asshole she's cookin' for is gonna be me."
Merle laughed as he waited for Ed to screw in the next piece of the bed, "So ya tyin' ya ass down to the broad that ain't into fuckin' ya? Good luck with that."
"Hey, she's into it," Ed corrected, fiddling with his screwdriver, "Took me half-a-damn-year and a few drinks to get into her pants, but now I got her damn near trained. Got rid of all the God-fearin' bullshit that her momma drilled into her head."
"Sounds like ya got ya hands full with that one," Merle observed.
"Yeah, she's a handful, but worth it. Great fuckin' body. Handful of tits. Damn tight too," Ed boasted, "Got her eatin' out of the palm of my hand. Ain't givin' that shit up."
"To each his own, Man," Merle said, "Me…hell, I ain't ever tyin' my ass down. I can feed myself, my baby bro cleans up after me, and I can get me a piece of ass anytime I want. The fuck would I ever want a wife for?" he asked rhetorically, "Let's finish this shit up and get some damn beers."
0 – TSR – 0
Daryl did not like this new arrangement at all. When he walked in the door around eight, he went right for the shower and then to his room. Now he was standing at his door, hesitant to go out to his own goddamn kitchen to make himself a sandwich. He could hear Merle laughing it up with the new guy on the other side of the door. He cursed himself. He wasn't supposed to feel like a stranger in his own damn home, but here he was, made to feel like he was the outsider simply because there was another body living in the house.
For so long, it had been just Daryl and Merle and Daryl was fine with that. He didn't do strangers. He only interacted with people when he needed to. He had few really close friends, the closest being Merle and Kevin. He preferred it that way. In his experience, people only screwed you over, especially if they didn't know you from Adam. He expected Ed Peletier to be no different.
And now, everything was changing. Daryl would have to adjust to having another person in the house. He'd have to learn to accommodate someone else's schedule and put up with someone else's habits. That seemed like a daunting task.
The rumbling of his stomach reminded him that he was hungry and would need to brave the living room at some point so that he could get to the kitchen. With a steadying breath, he gripped the doorknob and twisted it, pulling the door opened. He stepped into the living room and was greeted enthusiastically by his brother.
"The hell ya been, Boy?" Merle asked, getting to his feet. Daryl noticed that he was swaying a bit, something that wouldn't bode well for work tomorrow.
"Work, shower, and now gettin' food," Daryl answered, trying not to focus on the fact that the new roommate that was sitting in Daryl's spot on the couch.
"Work-o-holic, my baby brother," Merle told his new friend, "He's savin' shit up to be a tree-hugger."
"Shut up, Merle," Daryl sighed wearily. The new guy got to his feet and turned to look at Daryl, who tried to remain as still as he could.
"I'm Ed. Ed Peletier," the man introduced himself.
"Daryl Dixon," Daryl said in kind, shaking the man's hand and letting go at the first opportunity. Ed was exactly like Kevin had described him. He was a bulky guy with the beginnings of what would be a pretty prominent beer gut in a couple years. He had short, dark hair with a stubble beard. He had beady dark eyes that were red-rimmed on account of the joint he had just shared with Merle.
"Nice to meet ya, Man. Gonna have a beer with us?" Ed offered up one of Daryl's own beers to him. Daryl shook his head.
"I'm beat. Gonna chow down and then hit the sack. Five AM comes fast," Daryl declined, moving towards the kitchen to escape the conversation and Merle's teasing. He had a feeling that this roommate thing was going to be an exercise for his patience.
He really wasn't looking forward to it.
TBC
AN: Thank you all for all of the kind words! It was fantastic to hear your thoughts on this. So, Ed is moving in and Daryl doesn't like it. I think I might have channelled a little bit of Sheldon Cooper from Big Bang Theory when I was writing him. Daryl's job as a ditch sprayer is actually based on a job that I did to earn money in the summers. I chose it just because it conflicts with Daryl's desire to become a wildlife biologist and gives Merle plenty of ammunition later on. Kevin is actually based on one of my old co-workers from that job. He'll be popping up quite a bit. We'll get to see more Carol next chapter...and she'll get to meet the Dixons :)
Please let me know what you think so far!