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 32

Daryl was up early the next morning. It was habit, he supposed, along with waking up in a strange place. Merle was still conked out in the bed beside his, so Daryl went about getting ready for the day. He showered and then grimaced at the fact that he'd have to put on his dirty spray clothes again. They were all he had. Normally, he wouldn't care so much, but he was going to a hospital. He didn't want to be the asshole that came in with some weird ass bacteria on his clothes that made everyone in there sicker than what they were.

After he was dressed, he decided to head outside. Maybe walk around a bit. He was getting antsy anyhow. He stepped out onto the outdoor walkway and located the steps to get down to the ground. He decided to stick close to the motel, walking around the grounds, and then, when that got boring, he walked a couple of blocks down the street. At about quarter to eight, he figured it was time to head back to the hotel. Everyone was probably up and getting ready to go.

When he got back, he found Carol's dad putting his briefcase into the trunk of his car.

"Morning, Daryl," Mr. Taylor greeted.

"Mornin', Sir," Daryl said back, "Everyone up yet?"

"They're both up and getting ready," George assured Daryl, "Your brother was a bit upset when he woke to find you gone. He came over pounding on our door to see if we knew where you had gone off too."

"He knows I like to walk 'round a bit," Daryl said, frowning at the thought of Merle getting upset over him being gone.

"I think he's a bit on edge after what happened yesterday," George explained, slamming the trunk down. That made sense. After all, Merle was the only one who knew that Ed was out on the loose.

"Guess I shoulda left a note or somethin'."

"The main thing is that you're safe," George said, smiling over at him, "I'm sure your brother will be relieved. Carol too."

Daryl shuffled a bit and looked to the ground to hide the embarrassed flush on his face, "She, uh…was upset too?"

"She was worried after you, yes," George informed him, making Daryl's face further change colour. After a moment of silence, George said, "You and Carol are quite close, aren't you, Son?"

"Yes, Sir," Daryl managed to get out. George nodded his head.

"I heard about the way that you protected her from Ed when he was hurting her. Thank you."

Daryl was about to say that it was nothing, but he stopped himself when he looked up at George. There was a seriousness in the other man's face that stopped him. He remembered that Carol was George's daughter. Daryl realized that his actions on Sunday had meant everything to the other man.

"You're a good man, Daryl," George continued, "If there's ever anything that you need, I would be more than happy to help you."

"Thank you, Sir," Daryl said respectfully, "but that's not necessary."

"Just know that the offer stands, Son," George said, "For anything."

Daryl honestly couldn't think of a thing that he would ask George Taylor for, but he didn't argue the offer any further. He knew it would be disrespectful to do so. At that moment, Carol emerged from the room her and her father had shared. Her hair was still damp and she was wearing the same jeans and t-shirt from yesterday. Her bruises were starting to become less prominent. She stepped onto the balcony and smiled down at them.

"You're back," she greeted Daryl.

"Yeah," Daryl replied, unable to think of anything intelligent to say.

"I just have to comb my hair. Is Merle out yet?"

"Not yet, Sweetheart," George called up, "Take your time."

Carol smiled brightly and then disappeared back into the room. To Daryl, I was like a cloud had come to hide the sun away.

Suddenly, he could think of something he wanted quite badly from George Taylor.

"Uh…Sir?"

A knowing smile appeared on George's face as he said, "Yes, Daryl?"

"I…uh…well…uh…"

George waited patiently for Daryl to stammer out his request.

"See, um…I, uh…well…when Carol's…um…when she's ready, I'd…uh…like to…um…take her…um…uh…go out…um…date her-"

"Are you saying that you would like to date my daughter, Daryl?" George asked calmly.

"When she's ready to date again, yeah," Daryl replied, staring down at the ground and kicking at the dirt with his shoe. George was silent for a moment, contemplating what he could say to the shy young man before him.

"You have my blessing," he said, shocking Daryl into looking up at him. He had been sure that he had blown it. George continued, "The only thing you said right now that made any sense at all was 'when she's ready' and that tells me that your first concern is the same as mine: Carol's wellbeing. That's what I want for my daughter, Daryl. A man that does right by her…a man that cares for her and would never hurt her."

"I never would, Sir," Daryl promised.

"I believe that, Son," George told him, "See…the thing about Carol is that she's got a kind soul. Too kind. She's afraid of letting people down and she puts everyone else ahead of what she wants. Ed…Ed abused that. He took advantage of her. You aren't the type to do that. I know that. I just want to remind you of it. Above everything, Carol is still my little girl and even though I failed spectacularly at it, it's still my job to protect her. One day, when you have a daughter, you'll understand."

"I reckon so," Daryl said, "I won't forget it."

"Good," George said, clapping him on the shoulder. Daryl tensed under the touch, but he tried not to flinch away. If he did, George ignored it and asked, "So, did you see any decent breakfast joints on your walk?"

0-TSR-0

Merle was a bit thankful that Daryl had the distraction of Kevin. It kept the boy from going with Merle to the other side of the damn hospital to see Merle's doctor and Daryl had been pretty determined, especially when Carol made the comment over breakfast that Merle looked flushed. It wasn't that Merle didn't want his brother's support. It was just that he didn't want the boy…or anyone else for that matter…to see him vulnerable. Merle Dixon prided himself on the invincible reputation he had built up for himself and he'd be damned if he'd let anyone see it tarnished.

He knew that the doctor had the ability to tarnish it.

A nurse helped Merle remove the brace and though he normally would have made a crude remark about her helping him remove other things, he stayed silent. This was important damn business and with how worried Merle had been about his appointment, he wasn't about to fuck with any of it. Besides, he really didn't feel up to it. It felt weird being without the brace for an actual reasonable length of time. The only time Merle had been without it was when he was showering.

He sat through an x-ray and then had to wait in a little room for the doctor to come and tell him what he saw. In Merle's opinion, the room was too damn hot…much too hot for his liking. Still, the waiting was the worst part, Merle decided. Even the day before when he had been waiting for Daryl and for news on Kevin, he had about driven himself crazy with all the thoughts that could've been.

Merle was doing the same thing again as he waited.

He figured that they'd see that his arm was healing. Broken bones tended to do that. He also figured that they'd poke and prod at him and ask questions about what he could and couldn't feel.

That was the part that had Merle feeling anxious.

Merle couldn't feel a damn thing from the middle of his arm down. He felt the pull of the area they had done surgery on, but aside from that, he felt nothing.

He tried to move his fingers.

Nothing.

He glared at his hand and this was how the doctor found him when the door was opened.

"Hello, Mr. Dixon. Sorry to keep you waiting," Dr. Gould said, sitting down at the desk and opening up Merle's folder.

"Ain't no thing," Merle muttered, swiping the sweat off of his brow.

"Well, we've reviewed the x-rays," Gould announced, "It appears normal, but there is a bit of a shadow that I can't account for."

Merle blinked in confusion, "Shadow?"

"It could be nothing. Our machine is ancient and needs updating, but I would like to ask you some questions."

"Ask away," Merle said with a shrug.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Hurts sometimes, but nothin' I can't handle," Merle said.

"Glad to hear it," the older man said, jotting something down, "Any numbness?"

Merle glared down at his hand and nodded tersely.

"And where is it numb?" the doctor asked, using his feet to move the little rolling stool closer to Merle.

"From the middle down," Merle grudgingly answered honestly. This was another reason why Merle hadn't wanted Daryl around. The boy would've overreacted upon hearing the truth of the matter of Merle's arm.

Just as Merle had predicted, the doctor began to poke at him with his pen, trying to elicit some sort of response. Though Merle could see where the pen was touching, he couldn't feel it, at least not until the pen got closer to the stitches, "Felt somethin' there."

"But nowhere else?" Dr. Gould asked, his brow knitting into a frown, "Merle, can you raise your index finger for me?"

Merle tried.

Move, you little bastard, Merle silently screamed at the digit. He focused everything on lifting the finger.

Nothing.

The doctor jotted more things down and then he looked at Merle with a troubled frown, "I noticed that you look flushed. Do you feel hot right now?"

"Pretty hot yeah," Merle admitted, nodding his head. The doctor got up then and reached for a thermometer. Merle frowned, "It's my arm that's the problem, Doc."

"It is," Dr. Gould agreed, insisting on taking Merle's temperature. He jotted the number down and then pressed a button to call for the nurse.

"What's the issue?" Merle asked, his words slurring a bit.

"I think you may have a bone infection, Merle," the doctor replied grimly.

"How the hell do I got an infection?" Merle wondered, "I been taking the pills."

"Yes and it's a good thing you have been," Gould said, "The antibiotics prevented gangrene, but this infection would have been caused by a fracture that we missed in your initial exam. As I said, our x-ray machine leaves a lot to be desired. Another fracture could also explain the numbness as a bone could be pressing on a nerve. I'm going to have the nurse take you for a CAT scan. If I see evidence of a bone infection, we're going to need to operate today."

"Today?" Merle asked, "Fuck…I…"

"There's no other option," Gould told him, "As it is, you may have waited too long as it is. If the infection is too severe already, we may even have to amputate. This needs to happen, Merle."

"Amputate?" Merle spluttered, his eyes wide as he stared down at his arm. The doctor put a hand on Merle's shoulder.

"You've been lucky so far, Merle. You could have had compartment syndrome from being pinned and that is a much worse thing. We're going to do all we can to save the arm, Merle," the doctor promised.

0-TSR-0

Daryl followed Carol as the nurse led them back to Kevin's room. He was anxious about seeing his friend. He wanted to know that Kevin was okay, but at the same time, he was ready for the blame to be put on him for putting Kevin in that situation in the first place.

Still, when they entered the room, Kevin greeted them with a bright smile.

"Hey, Guys!" he greeted. Daryl was floored. He looked so normal…well, aside from the obvious. Both of Kevin's legs were in casts and elevated by wires. He wasn't wearing a shirt, but he had a thin green blanket over his chest. Daryl could see a bandage peeking out. There was also a bandage around his head. His eyes were dark underneath, but he was wearing a replacement pair of glasses that his mother had brought to him earlier that morning.

"Hey, you," Carol said back, approaching the bed and giving him a peck on the forehead before she sat in one of the chairs, "How're you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a car," Kevin replied with a grin. He nodded towards Daryl, who was still awkwardly hovering in the door way, "Come in and take a seat. You look awful, Man."

Daryl did what he was told and sat down beside Carol.

"What's eating you?" Kevin asked him, "You look like you just stole a cookie from the cookie jar."

"Kev, I…I shouldn't've told ya to go to the house-"

"Don't be doing that!" Kevin chided him, "It wasn't your fault."

"I told ya to go, knowin' that…" Daryl trailed off and cast a guilty glance towards Carol. Kevin's shrewd gaze picked up on it immediately. He knew that Daryl hadn't told Carol anything about what had happened the previous day. He reached over for Carol's hand.

"Got some bad news for you," Kevin told her.

"What?" Carol asked, confusion all over her face.

"Ed's a wanted man," Kevin said, "The cops suspect him of beating up Veronica Creedy on Saturday night. He was released on bail before he was a suspect though."

"Veronica," Carol murmured, "His ex?"

"Guess it was pretty bad," Kevin continued, "She's in a coma up in Atlanta. Daryl and I found out about it yesterday from a farmer down by where Veronica's body was found. We went to try to talk to the cops. That's where Daryl was yesterday. They were searching his truck for evidence and he was worried that Ed might go by the house, so I came over. I saw Ed sitting outside the house in his dad's Mercedes."

"Ed was the one who hit you," Carol pieced together, looking like her heart was breaking.

Kevin nodded, "I was the stupid one. I shouldn't have approached him. I ended up threatening him…telling him that the cops were on their way to arrest him for Veronica. That clearly didn't work out like I had planned," he said with a wry chuckle, "The cop that came to talk to me this morning said that they'd be looking for him, but as of right now, no one knows where he is."

Carol closed her eyes and took several steadying breaths.

"I'm sorry, Care," Kevin said sympathetically, "I don't think any of us realized how bad he was."

"How can…why…he…" Carol stammered, "I'm so sorry, Kevin."

"It isn't your fault any more than it is Daryl's," Kevin assured her, glancing between the pair, "It was all Ed's. He's the one that made the shitty decisions that he did. Let's just all be thankful that we're all here and alive. I'm gonna be fine. You guys are okay. Heck, even Merle's good. Why, this mighta been a good thing. Merle and I can bond over the fact that we're both wrecked up by the same asshole. Where's he at anyhow?"

"Gettin' his check-up," Daryl answered, "The one about his arm."

"Hope everything's good on that," Kevin said, "I can imagine that Merle could be one crabby patient."

"You're definitely not crabby," Carol observed, managing a small smile.

"No reason to be," Kevin shrugged and tried to hide a wince at the action, "I got hit by a car and lived. That makes me a very happy camper."

"If there's anything you need, just let us know," Carol said to him, squeezing his hand.

"The only thing I want is for you two Debbie Downers to actually smile," Kevin told the pair of them, "Things are good. Take advantage of it. Be happy."

"We are happy," Daryl muttered.

"Then show it," Kevin urged, "Life's too short. Now let's see a damn smile."

Daryl and Carol exchanged glances and then put on their best smiles for their friend. If Kevin could be happy, then what right did Carol and Daryl have to bring him down? Daryl couldn't help but to remember what Carol had said the night before. She was right. There was nothing that could bring Kevin down. Not even getting hit by a car could dim that smile.

The three of them talked a little longer before Bev Jones entered the room, carrying a Styrofoam bowl of vanilla ice cream.

"I can come back," she said.

"The ice cream will melt," Kevin reminded her, motioning her inside, "You know Daryl and Carol Ann, don't you, Mom?"

Bev beamed at the pair of them, her curls bouncing as she walked up to the bed, "Of course I do. They were here all night waiting for word about how you were doing. You have some wonderful friends."

"The best," Kevin replied, taking the bowl from his mother.

"We should probably let you rest," Carol said, squeezing his arm a final time, "We want to see you better."

"And you should probably make sure Merle's not causing too much havoc," Kevin quipped with a grin. Daryl smiled.

"Take care, Man."

"Remember: be happy!" Kevin called as they left.

Daryl shook his head as he and Carol walked down the hall, "You were right. Nothin' can bring him down."

"He loves life…even when he's stuck in a hospital bed," Carol shrugged. They walked in silence for a moment, both unsure of what to say or how to broach the topic of Ed. Finally, before they rejoined Carol's father in the waiting room, Daryl turned and stopped her.

"I…I'm sorry I didn't tell ya."

"Why didn't you?" Carol wondered.

Daryl sighed, "I wasn't sure how to. I mean, we were already so upset by what happened to Kev and…I dunno…I figure one crisis at a time…"

"Were you afraid that I couldn't handle it?" Carol asked softly. Daryl winced. That had been one of his reasons for not broaching the subject the night before.

"Yeah," he admitted honestly, "I mean, ya had a lot of bad shit happen lately and…hell, the last thing I wanna do is add to it. I don't wanna ever do nothin' to hurt ya and I figured tellin' ya that your ex is a real piece of shit wouldn't make ya feel so hot."

"You don't have to spare my feelings, Daryl. I'm a lot tougher than I look," she said, glancing down at her shoes. Daryl impulsively reached over and put a hand under her chin to bring her eyes back up to his.

"You are," he told her firmly, "and I was a dumbass for thinkin' any different."

Carol smiled at him and said, "You're not a dumbass. You just need to remember that I'm not made of glass. I can handle things just as good as you."

"No," Daryl said, "You tend to handle 'em a lot better."

His thumb moved to caress her cheek. Her eyes were locked on his, save for the moment when they flickered to look down at his mouth. Daryl swallowed. He wanted to kiss her so damn badly.

"Daryl Dixon to radiology. Daryl Dixon to radiology."

Daryl and Carol both frowned up at the speaker boxes.

"Radiology?" Carol questioned.

"Dammit, Merle," Daryl sighed.

The pair moved through the doors to the waiting area where George Taylor greeted them with a quizzical expression. Then he was coming with them down to radiology. Daryl didn't really know what to expect. It could be a number of things with Merle, from causing a scene to a complication with his arm.

Daryl hoped that his brother was just causing a scene.

They got to the radiology department where Daryl asked the nurse there why he had been summoned. He and the others were taken back to a room where Merle was sitting in a wheelchair wearing a hospital gown, a stoic expression on his face as his doctor spoke.

Daryl's heart sunk. This was about the arm.

"Merle?" he questioned. Merle said nothing in the way of greeting.

"Daryl Dixon," the doctor greeted him, "I'm Dr. Gould. We met last week."

"That's right. What's goin' on?" Daryl asked, his brows knitting together in concern.

"Your brother has a bone infection," the doctor announced, "There were two other fractures that our x-ray machine failed to detect and they have become infected."

"What does that mean?" Carol asked, looking from Merle to the doctor to Daryl and then to her father.

"It means that Merle needs surgery ASAP," Gould explained, "We need to clear the infection and fix the bone. We need you to remain nearby in case…of complications."

"What kind of complications?" Daryl asked fearfully.

"There's a chance that the infections could be too great or the bone too damaged. If that is the case, we may have to amputate," the doctor said. Daryl felt sick at the thought. He could only imagine how Merle must've felt. Gould continued, "I'm going to head down to the OR. A nurse will come and collect him when we're ready to start."

With that, he left the room. Daryl dropped to his knees in front of his brother's chair.

"Merle?"

"Just a thing, Brother," Merle said evenly, refusing to make eye contact. Carol moved forward and placed a hand on Merle's shoulder.

"What can we do?" she asked.

"Nothin'. It's gotta be done," Merle replied.

"Carol, why don't we leave these two alone for a moment?" George suggested. They took their leave and left the brothers by themselves.

"Merle?" Daryl questioned again in a small voice.

"If they can't…if it's too bad…" Merle started, in that same voice, "Tell 'em to take the arm."

"You sure?"

"Ain't no choice, Boy. If that's what they gotta do, then let 'em do it. Life over limb or some shit."

Daryl felt sick at the thought and prayed that he wouldn't have to do anything drastic. How had shit gone from bad to worse so quickly?

TBC

AN: Ok, so quick notes in regards to Merle: First, I am not a doctor by any means and I recently found out that Merle's care following his accident should have been much different than I had indicated. After talking to the amazing SophiaCharlotte, a fanfic writer that actually does have medical knowledge, I am attempting to rectify my initial mistake. Please bear with me and I hope that Merle's care from here on out is a bit more realistic.