Carolina in my mind

Chapter 3

Carolina woke up with a pounding headache. The same one that drinking too much dark liquor always gave her. She scrubbed her face with her hands, trying to hold off the inevitable. She could already feel she was not back at home on her couch. Which meant she must somehow still be dreaming. The smell of food started her empty stomach grumbling. And she tried not to think about how real everything felt. She told herself she would wake up eventually. This nightmare couldn't last forever. Until then, she was just going to see where her dreams took her. And right now they were calling her to breakfast.

Carolina climbed out of bed with one hand braced against her forehead. She was still dressed in the t-shirt and shorts she'd donned the night before. Merle's clothes. And she headed for the one large dresser in the room, hoping that there were clothes inside the drawers that would fit her. The top drawer was full of miscellaneous junk. But that junk included half a pack of cigarettes with a lemon yellow bic lighter stuffed inside. They were her brand. And yellow was her favorite color. So Carolina tapped one from the pack, lighting it and taking a long drag.

With the smoke clamped between her fingers, she opened the next drawer down. The contents made her giggle a little. One side of the drawer was full of men's underwear and socks, all of them folded neatly and organized in straight little rows. The other side was a wild jumble of items she was fairly certain were hers. Bras and ladies underpants were tangled up in a pile. She rooted through the mess, pulling out a pair of black panties with lace on the edges and a matching lace trimmed bra. Checking the size on the bra, she became certain that these were her things. The chances of another woman wearing her same size were slim.

Carolina balanced her smoke on the top edge of the dresser as she stripped her night clothes off and replaced them with the clean bra and underpants. Then she shrugged and snatched a clean pair of socks from the side of the drawer that clearly wasn't hers, sitting on the bed and pulling them onto her feet. The rest of the dresser drawers looked similar to the first. One side of them was neatly organized while the other looked like a clothing store exploded inside. Carolina found a pair of jeans, a white t-shirt, and a flannel that she tied around her waist. Not only did everything fit her, but it was obvious to her that she'd been the one to pick out these items. All the clothes were the style she usually wore on her days off from work. Which she supposed was everyday now, regardless of which reality she was living in. The memory of her boss's face when she tossed the coffee on him made her smile. Dickerson, she thought, what a dick.

"What do ya think yer doin' stealin' my socks," Merle teased as he moved across the room towards her. Carolina's instinct was to back away from the man. But she held her ground, allowing Merle to pull her against him. When he moved in for a kiss, she turned her head so that his lips landed on her cheek instead of her mouth. He didn't seem as upset by this as she was worried he might be. In fact, he didn't seem bothered by her rebuff in the slightest.

"Mornin' sugar," he drawled, delivering a hard stinging crack on her ass before he hurried across the room to tend to the pan of eggs he had sitting on an electric hot plate. Carolina took one last drag off her smoke and looked around the place.

The room was small and had a utilitarian look about it. There was a card table with two chairs on one side. And a couch that was pushed up against the opposite wall. Extension cords were running along the wall, taped in place. And on the one small counter, there was the hot plate Merle was using, a small coffee maker, and a tiny countertop refrigerator. Carolina took a seat at the table, snubbing her smoke out in a small ceramic ashtray.

Removing the hot pan from the electric burner, Merle set it on a folded towel and pulled the fridge open. He approached her, setting a cold bottle of water and two aspirins down in front of her on the table. He ran his hand down over her hair until he reached her shoulder, resting his one good hand there and giving her an affectionate squeeze before he returned to the counter.

"Thanks," Carolina said, eagerly tossing the pills into her mouth and washing them down with the cold water. She wasn't sure what to think of the man's kind and considerate behavior. And she was still slightly nervous that he might turn on her and become the foul mouthed monster she remembered from the show. Carolina took another sip of water, sighing as she finally felt the pounding in her head start to diminish. A cup of coffee was set down in front of her next. And not just any cup of coffee. It was made just the way she liked it, with three creams and three sugars. Merle Dixon knew how she took her coffee. This has got to be a dream, she thought. She'd never been with a man that bothered to learn how she took her coffee. And Merle didn't seem like the type to give a shit.

The coffee Merle plunked down in front of his seat was black. And he returned a moment later, balancing two plates full of scrambled eggs in his one good hand. He set one in front of her and the other in front of the seat he slid into. The way he was using his hand to hold the plates and carry the cups looked well practiced. Which meant he must have lost his hand quite some time ago. Carolina found herself pondering where they were in the timeline of the show as she watched Merle fork his eggs into his mouth.

"Are ya sick to yer stomach too?," he asked between bites. Carolina shook her head and picked up her fork. She took a bite of her eggs, which just like her coffee, were prepared just how she made them for herself. Extra salt, no pepper, and slightly overcooked. Runny eggs made her want to hurl. Carolina took sips of coffee as she ate her eggs. She felt like she was eating faster than she usually would. But Merle was still done long before her. He stayed at the table, sipping his coffee while she finished her food.

"Thank you for breakfast," Carolina said, toying with the handle on her coffee cup. Like knowing her coffee order, she'd never had a man cook her breakfast before. They'd taken her out to breakfast. Or ordered in. But actually making it for her somehow felt different. More intimate.

"Are ya feelin' any better?," he asked. Carolina squirmed a little under Merle's observant eye. It had been less than twenty four hours for her. But she wondered how long she'd been here from his perspective. This clearly wasn't a drunken one night stand. Her clothes were next to his in the dresser. And he knew how she liked her coffee. If he knew her that well, he was sure to notice if she was behaving abnormally. The problem was, she didn't know how she usually behaved.

"My head is feeling better," Carolina said. "But I still feel kinda weird." Weird was one way to describe how she was feeling. Off the wall put me in a straitjacket crazy would be a better description. But weird would do for now.

"Ya want me ta stop by the infirmary and tell 'em ya can't work today?," Merle asked. Carolina perked up at this slip of information. Her apocalypse job was working as a nurse. It made sense. She double majored in biology and secondary education. So she had basic knowledge about the functions of the human body. More than the average person anyway.

"No," Carolina said, "...I can work." She could work. But she wasn't sure if she could find her work. Which might present a problem. She couldn't go wandering all over Woodbury asking where the infirmary was. Not when she worked there everyday and ought to already know its location. Carolina smiled, suddenly coming up with the perfect solution to her problem. "Will you walk me to work?," she asked.

"I'll walk ya wherever ya want sugar," he told her, his tone implying that he'd rather be walking her into their bedroom. Carolina smiled, the heat rising in her cheeks before she could stop it. And after they took care of their breakfast dishes, Carolina found herself walking through the streets of Woodbury. She was hanging into Merle's bad arm, smiling and greeting the people that smiled at her. A few of them looked vaguely familiar. Background characters that were only on the show to die. Like the red shirts on Star Trek. Carolina tried not to think about that as she made sure to commit their route to memory. She wanted to be able to find her way back to their apartment without help.

When they arrived at what Carolina assumed was the door to the infirmary, Merle kissed her goodbye. She kissed him back, letting her lips linger against his for longer than she meant to. He was the only familiar thing in this strange new world. And Carolina found she was nervous and reluctant to let him out of her sight. She expected to feel awkward, being held by a man that was not only a total stranger, but also the same height as her. She usually didn't date anyone under six feet as a rule. But instead she felt a delicious flutter in her stomach.

"See ya later doll," he said, giving her another hard swat on the butt like the one he gave her earlier in the apartment before he strode away. Carolina turned, eyeing the infirmary door nervously. She took a deep breath. Then she turned the knob and stepped inside.

As she got into the routine of her day, Carolina was relieved to discover that she was working under the supervision of an actual doctor. Dr. Stevens was a middle aged black woman that had obviously been working as a doctor long before the world fell apart. All she really expected from Carolina was for her to act as her assistant. Which Carolina was more than happy to do. She helped Dr. Stevens give a very pregnant woman a checkup. They got to listen to the baby's heart, which was sort of fun. They bandaged up a couple small bumps and bruises. And treated a rather disgusting case of poison ivy that some guy got on his business from taking a dump in the woods and wiping with the wrong leaf. The work day was drawing to a close when Carolina finally got brave enough to ask the woman if she would take a look at the bump on her head. She was starting to wonder if she'd knocked herself into a coma. It was the only explanation she could think of for why she was dreaming for so long.

"Oh my," the doctor said, parting Carolina's long blonde hair to get a better look at the knot on her head. "Carolina, what did you do to yourself?"

"I had a nightmare and bumped my head on the headboard," Carolina explained. She wasn't expecting the woman to start laughing.

"A nightmare?," the woman teased. "Give me a break Carolina."

It took Carolina a moment to catch on to what Dr. Stevens was implying. When she did, her entire face turned beet red. The woman clearly believed that she whacked her head on the headboard fucking Merle. And it made Carolina wonder if she had been injured previously from whatever her apocalypse counterpart was doing with the man.

"I'll give you some ibuprofen for the swelling," Dr. Stevens said. "...and you better tell loverboy to take it easy on you for a few days." Carolina nodded, wishing she could crawl into a hole and die. Thankfully, the woman seemed to be able to sense how uncomfortable Carolina was with the conversation. She quickly let the subject drop.

They were wiping down the exam rooms together when Carolina heard the door to the infirmary being slammed against the wall as someone hurried to get inside. Merle rushed in first. There was an unconscious woman in his arms. Carolina couldn't see her face. Because her blonde hair was hanging over it, obscuring her features. But she had a funny feeling that she already knew who the woman was. And Carolina sure as shit recognized the muscular black woman that was shadowing Merle as he carried her sick friend down the hall and into an exam room. Michonne and Andrea were here.