AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I posted another one earlier today, so please don't miss that one, and don't forget to leave me a little love if you like it!
I hope you enjoy this chapter, too! Let me know what you think!
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"Should I go?" Carol asked immediately when Daryl stepped outside. He lit a cigarette and shook his head.
"Not unless you got somewhere to be," he offered, crossing the yard. "I didn't expect to see you, though. You didn't text."
"I wanted to surprise you," Carol said. "I stopped by your work. Tyreese said you were here and you wouldn't mind. You were probably going to be here through lunch. I didn't think about it, but—you maybe don't like surprises."
Daryl laughed to himself.
"I don't like surprises," he said. "Unless it's you that's surprisin' me. And they're good surprises. I don't like bad surprises."
"Is this a good surprise?" Carol asked, hugging the bag that Daryl assumed held food. He reached her and grabbed her upper arm with his free hand. He kneaded the muscle in his fingers. He leaned and kissed her, trying to answer her question with the kiss. He held it a tick or two longer than he'd intended because he realized, immediately, how much he'd missed her lips.
She smiled at him when the kiss had broken. He smiled to himself. It seemed that she may have gotten the message.
"Best surprise," he offered. "Seeing you, unexpected? Always the best surprise…"
Immediately, though, his stomach knotted on itself. Carol didn't often surprise him at work. She'd been there before—actually when he'd been working for Agnes—but she didn't surprise him with any regularity. He felt an almost instant concern rising up in him that there might be more to this visit, and he could only hope it was good—especially since she'd looked a little uncomfortable before he'd kissed her.
"You—feelin' OK?" Daryl asked. "You OK—I mean…with everything we been talkin' about and…all…is everything OK?"
She furrowed her brow at him. He stared back at her. After what seemed like a long while, but was probably little more than an actual passing second, her mouth formed a perfect "O" and her eyebrows raised.
"Oh," she said, giving word to what was on her lips. "Oh—no. You mean about the…no…I mean everything's OK. I mean—it's probably not going to happen. That probably isn't, but…even if it were? It would be too soon for—anything. I think. I'm sure…it would be too soon."
Daryl's muscles unknotted themselves a little. He nodded his head and continued to squeeze the upper part of Carol's arm where he was holding to her.
"Too soon—that's fine, right? At least it's all good. You're OK. That's all that matters, right?"
Carol smiled at him. It was just the soft half-smile.
"It's probably not going to happen," she said. "And you're OK with that, right? I mean—if it doesn't ever happen? Because if you're not…"
"Hey," Daryl said quickly, recognizing a spiral before it even began. "It might happen. And you're OK with that, right?" He smiled at her. "Because if you ain't…"
She laughed quietly, perhaps in spite of herself, and requested another kiss with her eyes—Daryl felt he could practically see the request there. He obliged her.
"Don't be negative," he said. "I get it. I do. I promise. I'm not stupid and I'm not dense. Might not happen. But I can't help but think—with the whole damn thing? It's gotta be better to just be positive. And I'm positive that there's at least a chance because I don't know a whole hell of a lot about how it all works, but I know the basics of how it happens—and I know we're pretty good at taking the necessary steps and performing all the necessary tasks."
She smiled, and the smile immediately morphed into the teasing expression she got when she cocked her eyebrows a certain way. Daryl was always happy to see that expression. It meant she was really relaxing from whatever run around might be happening in her mind. The expression immediately made him relax.
"I don't know," Carol said. "It's been three days. What if—we missed our window because you…disappeared on me?"
"Did we miss a window? You didn't tell me there was a window," Daryl said, his stomach tightening at the very thought that, maybe, he'd been careless about such things.
"There's always a window," Carol said. "It's either the right day or—it's not."
"If you'da told me there was a window, I'da found a way to at least run by…even though I been kinda busy…"
She laughed.
"That is, by far, the least romantic thing I think you've ever said to me," Carol said.
"I swear I didn't mean…"
"It's OK," Carol said quickly. "In its own way, it's…actually oddly romantic, too. I like it."
"That don't make a damn bit of sense, Carol."
"Am I allowed to—sometimes not make sense?"
"As much as you want," Daryl said. "You yankin' me around or…did I really fuck it up and miss our window?"
When she looked at him the way she was looking at him, Daryl felt a sensation run through his entire body. It was a simple expression—not quite a smile—but it made him feel like he'd done something right every time she looked at him that way.
She had a way of simply making him feel like he was "right" in every way that mattered.
"Mostly I'm just teasing you," she said. "There is a window, but…I don't know when it is, Daryl. And if we missed it?" She just shrugged.
"There's another one," Daryl offered, half as statement and half as question. He was hopeful, but he wouldn't surprised to find out there were things he never even knew about the whole process of making entirely new human beings from scratch.
She nodded.
"If there are any at all, there will be another one," she said. "I was worried, though…"
"Worried?"
Daryl finished his cigarette and leaned down to scrub it out on the grass. He dropped the butt in his pocket. He threw them away in the trash can, in the house, as Agnes directed. He would have dared to leave a mess for her.
"I was thinking maybe—you'd changed your mind," Carol said. "Maybe it was too much. So, you just…stopped coming."
The sincerity of her words hit Daryl like a punch in the gut.
"Why would you think that?" Daryl asked.
She shrugged.
"You didn't—ask for next time," Carol said. "I didn't know—when next time was supposed to be. And it is a lot…and I could understand if you changed your mind."
"Holy shit," Daryl said, his heart pounding for an entirely different reason in his chest. "Carol—I told you I'ma always want next time. I just—I had a lot that I was doin' and I wanted to get it done before I told you about all of it. That's all…and I weren't sure how long it would take me…"
"You don't have to explain yourself," Carol said.
"If it's got you thinkin' I'm not comin' back or I changed my damn mind, I do," Daryl said quickly. "I didn't change my mind. I won't. Carol—I get stuck on shit and you can't hardly get me off of it if you want to. You can ask Merle. I'm like a dog with a bone when I get stuck on somethin'. It'll just about drive him nuts 'cause I just can't get off of it. Not if it matters to me. And I'm real damn stuck on you. More than I ever been stuck on anything in my life."
Her eyes were damp, and Daryl immediately felt bad. She'd been afraid to confess her feelings to him, and he could tell that she was sincere. She'd worried that, facing the idea of the baby they'd discussed and, possibly, whatever other implications that might have, Daryl had simply decided to slip out of her life.
She'd worried that he'd just planned to disappear, quietly, and without a big show of things.
And he understood because, sometimes, he was woken up in the middle of the night by the same kind of fear.
It was always better, though, when it happened on the nights when she was right beside him—sleeping peacefully. He could just look at her, and touch her even, to remind himself that she was there and she wasn't running away from him because she was too busy sleeping next to him.
"I shouldn't have been paranoid," Carol offered quietly.
"We all get paranoid," Daryl said. "I do—ten or twelve times a day."
"Maybe I shouldn't have come…" Carol said.
"I wish you wouldn't say that," Daryl said. "I'm happier to see you than…than I got words for. At least, good ones. Come inside. Eat lunch?"
Carol looked beyond him, toward the house.
"You're on the job," she said.
Daryl laughed to himself.
"Agnes ain't gonna care if I take a break to eat lunch with you," Daryl said. "In fact—I was gonna eat lunch anyway. And I'd much rather eat it with you. Besides—I'd bet you just about anything she's just inside, prob'ly got a drumstick or somethin' in her hand. Watchin' us out that kitchen window. She'd have a fit if I was to let you go without bringin' you inside to meet her."
Carol smiled.
"You want me to meet your client?" She asked.
"She's a bit more'n that," Daryl said. "Though it's hard to explain."
"I know," Carol said sincerely. "Ty told me. You—want me to meet her?"
"I want you to meet every damn body I know," Daryl said. "And—to be honest? Once you meet Agnes, you just about have."
"You're sure you're not mad that I—just came barging over to your job?"
"I'm sure that I ain't never gonna be unhappy to see you, Carol. Never. Not a single damn day of my life. OK?"
She nodded, smiling softly to herself.
"I'm sorry—I guess I just…let my mind run away with me."
"Happens to all of us," Daryl said. "To tell you the truth—it does wonders for my mind just…knowin' yours ran away, so you come here to straighten things out. But—now I'm worried about if I really did fuck us up somehow. Miss some kinda important window."
"It'll be OK," Carol said. "No matter if we missed it, or we didn't…even if it was the last one."
"Don't say that," Daryl said.
"It might be true…"
"But I don't like the negative," Daryl said. "Please? Just—don't be negative."
"That's easier said than done when it might be true, Daryl…"
"Then every time you think of it, just think of the positive," Daryl said. "Like it's a story, right? But a story you're tellin' yourself. Sharin' with me. Like one of your books."
"Like your movies?" Carol asked with a laugh.
Daryl nodded.
"Tell yourself the happy damn story because life's too short for the sad ones."
Carol slipped her hand in his and he squeezed her fingers in his. She sighed quietly, but he heard it. It was a sound of contentment. It made his heart swell to think that he made her make that sound. It made his heart pound, too, to think that she'd clearly truly missed him. He'd missed her, of course, but he'd never imagined that she would miss him the same way. He didn't like that she'd been unhappy—not even for a moment—but he did like knowing that she missed him.
"Come in? Eat—if Jacqui don't need you?"
Carol laughed to herself.
"I've been kind of clumsy," Carol said. "Distracted. Jacqui wants me to be gone however long it takes for—for that to pass. It's better for everyone, and the whole café, if I take my time."
"You ain't hurt yourself?"
"No. Just—stupid little things."
"Distracted, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Over me?" Daryl asked, raising his eyebrows at her. She immediately narrowed her eyes at him, but the smile didn't leave her lips entirely.
"Asshole," she muttered.
Daryl laughed. He squeezed her hand and reached, taking the bag from her that he should have taken a while ago instead of forcing her to stand there and hold it. She didn't protest.
"Come on," he said. "Let's go meet Agnes. Now—I gotta warn you, she's pretty dead set on the fact that we're married and…I ain't set her straight because she gets kinda upset if she finds out she's all tangled up in some way."
"Don't worry," Carol said. "I wouldn't dream of upsetting her."
"You don't mind that—she thinks we're married?"
"No," Carol said. "I don't mind, Daryl."
The way that she said it—so sincerely and even a little bit forcefully—made Daryl's stomach feel like the whole swarm of butterflies that lived in there, at times, was active again. He tugged her hand to bring her with him, and she came willingly.
"Daryl—" she said, tugging back on his hand to stop him again. He stopped and looked at her, brow furrowed, concerned about her sudden change in tone of voice. He hummed to prompt her to continue. "Just—to know. When's—the next time you're coming over?"
The butterflies in Daryl's stomach banded together to perform a large loop all at once.
"Tonight," he said. "After work. Might be a little late, but I'm comin' over."
She looked as pleased as he felt.
"I don't want you to think I'm pushing you…"
"Believe me, you don't have to push." Daryl offered, tugging her hand to get her moving toward the door again. "There's no place I'd rather sleep than beside you."
