#operation angst

Theywent to bed angry.

Carolcouldn’t remember being honest-to-God angry at Daryl before. He haddisappointed her, frustrated her, and upset her sometimes, mostly in the earlydays…but never inspired anger like this.

Thenews about Glenn and Abraham’s deaths had been horrifying and painful and hadleft her nauseated. It had only been worse that she had heard about it in anaside from Morgan, who had assumed after nearly a day with Daryl in her housethat Daryl had told her. The anger had flared fast out of a spark of betrayal:another thing that she had never felt around him.

Hehad purposely kept that information from her: something she should have beentold about immediately. To what end? To spare her? To protect her…from reality?The truth was going to come out, whether she was ready for it or not. Nothingelse in this world waited for her to be ready for it. She didn’t want anyone,especially not Daryl, treating her with kid gloves.

Ithadn’t helped that Daryl had shot back at her anger with his own. How dare sheup and leave without a proper goodbye? To sneak away in the night, aftereverything they’d been through. Didn’t he deserve better than that?

Oh,like he would have let her leave peacefully if he’d known.

Shecould have come to him and talked things out. He would have listened!

Carolwas not going to pile her personal shit on top of his; he had been dealing withenough.

Theargument had lasted for hours, after an already-exhausting day.

Thesaying went that couples weren’t supposed to go to bed angry. Well, they wereboth too tired to keep fighting, and Carol was not in the mood to just let itgo for the sake of sleep.

Sothey fell asleep back to back in bed. It didn’t occur to either of them for himto take the couch in the other room. Yeah, they were pissed at each other, butthe thought didn’t even form to physically separate, even to put just one roombetween them.

Carol’seyelids drifted closed without her noticing, and she abruptly blinked them openagain, staring at the dark silhouettes of furniture in her bedroom. She couldhear Daryl breathing behind her, feel the warmth of his body near her back, butnot touching. His presence had lulled her to a light doze, and she balled her fists,where she’d shoved them under the pillow under her head.

Sleephad been fleeting and restless for weeks, but she had memorized the patterns onthe ceiling of this bedroom for all the nights that she couldn’t sleep in thishouse. Hours spent too numb to rest. She’d thought that the emptiness and theloneliness would sweep her into oblivious sleep easily…but instead it was like herbrain wanted her to stay awake, to wallow in the numbness and the lack of…anything…Nomatter how tired she was.

Yethere she was on this night, stewing in exhausted anger and in an emotionaltumult of irritation at Daryl and relief at his presence, of hurt that he’dlied by omission and solace in his staying with her now, of despair that shecouldn’t just be left alone and contentedness in his familiar existence besideher.

Heranger was quelled by how quickly he fell asleep and how deeply. Daryl wasneither a quick nor a deep sleeper, but he had sank into the mattress with afatigue that seemed to push down on him. He wasn’t wearing his own clothes, andthere were fading marks all over his skin. Even just the simple act of steppingthrough her doorway, arguing with her, falling into bed with her: it had allbeen done with skittish eyes, hunched shoulders, and the air of a kickedanimal.

Therewas more he wasn’t telling her, and that rankled and scared her at the same time.

Justthinking about resuming their fight in the morning was draining, but at the sametime, that Daryl would be there to argue left her feeling warm.

Darylshifted in his sleep, and the bed moved with him a bit. Carol pursed her lipshard and then turned her shoulder back a bit, peering over at him in thedarkness. He was on his side, curled in slightly, as though to make himselfsmaller. He wasn’t restless by any means, but discomfort had crept into hisframe.

Andarguments and secrets and anger be damned, she couldn’t handle that tonight.

Smoothlyand quickly, before she could change her mind, Carol rolled onto her otherside, until her nose was nearly touching his spine. She let her arm flop ontohis side, her hand finding a hold at his hip. Her forearm was pressed along thedip between the bottom of his ribs and his belt, where his shirt had rucked up,and she could feel bare skin.

Daryl’smute discomfort smoothed back to stillness, and Carol swore they both sighed intandem. The air around him felt like home. Maybe home wasn’t what it used tobe. Maybe now home included the rougher edges of a relationship that wasn’t aseasy as it used to be. Maybe that was neither good nor bad.

Shewas too tired to think about any of that, so she just focused on that familiarpresence of him, on the solid, living, breathing, warm body in her arms. Shewas still mad, but damn if she didn’t love this mess of a man.

Sheclosed her eyes, and in the span of that blink, she opened them to find morningsunlight launching through the windows and spilling across the floor and thefoot of the bed.

Shecouldn’t remember sleeping that hard or that long…

Asoft snore woke her up the rest of the way, and she blinked a few times, tryingto orient herself, because the ceiling tiles weren’t in the order she’d leftthem overhead.

Now,instead of curling around Daryl like she’d been when she fell asleep, Carolfound herself using Daryl’s stomach as a pillow. He was on his back, one pillowwedged under his neck so that his head was practically hanging off the otherend. The angle stretched his throat long and left his mouth open, hence thesnoring. His arm was all the way up the back of Carol’s shirt, and his palm wasspread across the broadest part of her shoulders.

Fromwhere she was, she could only see the bottom of Daryl’s chin and the splash ofhis hair on the pillow on either side of his head. He snored once a little tooforcefully and startled himself awake.

Shewas supposed to be angry with him; that meant she wasn’t supposed to melt a bitbecause of how adorable that was.

Darylshifted a bit as he too woke up and figured out their arrangement. He tiltedhis head a bit to peer one eye down at her, and she winked in greeting. He usedhis free hand to rub at his face, taking a deep breath that had Carol’s headgoing up and down with his chest.

“Wedidn’t, uh…” he mumbled, “…resolve things last night.”

“No,we did not,” Carol stated, eying the buttons on his shirt at her eye level.

“Wecould hit pause…” he suggested. “Just for the mornin’…’less you think things’dfester.”

Carolcontemplated that and then grimaced. She turned her face more against his chestand groaned into his shirt.

“Yes,it would fester,” she admitted.

Darylexhaled heavily. “Yeah…A’right.”

Thatwas the cue, and Carol slowly climbed off of him sitting up on her knees in bedand rubbing her face.

“Hey,”Daryl prompted, half climbing out of bed himself. “I love you. Y’know that,right?”

Carolstared at him, her heart fluttering at hearing the words out loud, despiteeverything. “Yes. You know I love you too, yeah?”

Darylmanaged a tiny smile. “Yeah.”

Jesushad basically given Daryl a box of clothes to pick out what he wanted, and thenhe had given Daryl the room. After so much forced isolation, Daryl would havefigured the empty room in the Hilltop mansion would have had his skin crawling…Reallythough, the only thing making his skin crawl at the moment was the stolenclothes on his body.

Hewrangled out of them quickly and threw them in the corner. They stank of theSanctuary, of dirt and oil and sweat, of the iron, of dog food and stale peanutbutter. The clothes in the box smelled like cardboard and musty fabricsoftener, but they were clean. He rummaged through it and found a shirt andpants that fit. They weren’t broken in and shaped to him like his real clothes,but those were long gone. At least they didn’t smell like that place. Somethinghad always made his real clothes smell like grass and wood chips. He snorteddryly as he considered rolling around on the grass just to make these newclothes at least smell familiar.

Jesushad guessed at his shoe size, and the shoes in the bottom of the box fitsurprisingly well. Daryl tied the laces and took a few test steps. It’d do.

Milesaway, Carol laced up her boots, savoring the heavy thud of them as she droppedher foot to the floor. She had tried to wear some of the shoes that she foundin the house, but they had felt too fragile. They reminded her too much of atime of fashion over function. She didn’t like how exposed her ankles felt, andso she’d gone straight back to her tall boots. There had been a time when sheslept in these shoes; they felt like part of her.

Carolleft her bedroom and went into the kitchen, tugging out a jar of peach jam fromthe cabinet. The house hadn’t been a goldmine by any means, but there had beena few non-perishables that kept away the panic of running out of food. Thepreservatives alone had gotten her through her first few days on her own.

Shespooned out some of the peach jam, taking a sniff of it and closing her eyes.Peaches always smelled like Georgia. It smelled like sun-baked days on theGreene farm, and if she let herself, she could hear T-Dog singing softly tohimself as he cleaned up the camp, could see Carl and Lori feeding chickens,Glenn awkwardly riding a horse.

Shetasted the jam, and her nose pinched at the sweetness of it. Food nowadays wassubstance over flavor, but they had found ways to muscle some taste in. Therehad been big talks once about how burning different woods when cooking gavemeat different flavors. Daryl had fancied himself almost a connoisseur on thetopic.

Carolsnorted, frowned, and pushed the spoon back in the jar.

Daryldidn’t bother with the kitchen knife he was offered, instead opting to biteinto the tomato like an apple. The tomato was ripe, and juice immediately burstout of it, dribbling over his chin and onto his new-ish shirt. He couldn’tmuster a care for it, closing his eyes as he savored the simple taste of thefruit. It smelled clean and fresh, and he nearly inhaled the rest of it just tohold onto that aroma.

Maggiehad pushed all sorts of food at him. He could feel all of her concern andrelief in the way she wanted him to eat, to rest, to be within eyeshot of heras much as possible. That kind of response had his chest aching, and now thisgoddamn perfect tomato was going to push him over the edge. He could hardlylook her in the eye, but at the same time, being away from her might havekilled him on this particular afternoon. Maggie, Sasha, even Enid kinda…Theywere part of home. They were his sisters, and they were conduits to Carol, toRick, to the others…

Carol.

Heswallowed the first bite of tomato, wanting to immediately dig into the second,but forcing himself to slow down and relish the aftertaste. Not like dirtybread and dogfood. He took a second bite, then a third right after that, justto drown out that memory.

Therewas a knock on the door, and he flinched.

Carolgot up to answer the door, but she didn’t open it. Instead, she let Morganthink she wasn’t home, and she watched him leave his little care package on herdoor step. He walked away, and once he was outside the property line, clearlywith no intention of looking back, Carol slipped the door open just enough toreach out and drag the bag inside. She closed the door again and absently setthe bag with the other basket of fruit that Ezekiel had brought her thatmorning.

Aggravatedall of a sudden, she retrieved her pack of cigarettes from the table and slidone between her teeth. She flipped open her lighter and held the flame closeenough to the edge of the cigarette to make it glow. She paused there, rightbefore the flame could catch and actually ignite the cigarette.

Shedidn’t even really want to smoke. It tasted awful, and all the health andsafety warnings that she’d heard made it seem like she could actually feel herlungs shriveling with each puff. The only solace that the cigarettes even gaveher was that olfactory memory of Daryl…that and that she deserved so much worsethan an awful taste in her mouth and burned up lungs. Maybe every cigarette wasa pinch of penance…

Shewithdrew the lighter and set it on the table, leaning on it slightly. Aside froma tiny wisp of smoke from the singed end of the cigarette, there was nothing. Shetook it out of her mouth and shoved it back in the pack of Morley’s.

Daryl’sfingers toyed with the frayed corner of the Morley cigarette pack in his pocketas he listened to Greg drone on about Hilltop “security” and “harboringfugitives” and “threatening the peace between Hilltop and the Saviors.” It wasmaking Daryl’s lip curl and his fingers itch for a cigarette. Yeah, thenicotine might taste good as it burned its way down, but he’d just gotten outof a smoke drenched, concrete walled, filthy hole. The idea of puffing one outand bringing that all back made his stomach turn.

Maggiehad a handle on the conversation with Greg, so Daryl let himself drift a bit.He felt overstimulated, between the stiff clothes that weren’t his, to theclean aftertaste of tomato still in his mouth, to the dampening acoustics andsoft surfaces of the mansion, to the newfound freedom of just walking aroundwithout restriction…but this place wasn’t home. Even with Maggie and Sashahere, something was missing.

Hemissed the familiar weight of the crossbow on his back, the leather vest acrosshis shoulders, the ties of fabric around the pant legs at his ankles. The packof Morley’s wasn’t even his. Negan’s people had taken the pack he’d had on him,the same pack that Carol had given him just days earlier. That was the bigthing that was missing; he wouldn’t feel like he was home until he’d seen her.

Carol’shome was empty.

Well,okay, that was supposed to be the point, but it just felt vacant. The odor ofthe walker that had been in the house before had soaked into the wood and thecarpet, but the breeze through the open windows had taken care of the worst ofthat. There were four chairs at the kitchen table, and she’d had to put boxesor bags in the other three chairs just to keep from staring at the emptiness ofthem.

Based on oasis-haze’s post here: 

“9. Both of them sitting somewhere together, side by side, no space between them; they’re arms and hips touching and then Daryl playfully knocks his knee against Carol’s.”

Based on oasis-haze’s post here: 

“1. Forehead touching. A tender moment, maybe after they hug, and Daryl just leans in closer and presses his forehead to Carol’s and they both close their eyes. I just need it ok.”

Carolremembered a Bradbury short story about the automated house, long after itsresidents are dead, still executing its programming to take care of theirneeds. It prepared food, played music, filled the bathtubs…For some reason,that story kept flitting at the edges of her periphery today.

Maybeit was the way she and Daryl had been existing in the house together for fourhours now, and they had barely been in the same room longer than ten seconds.His presence was like that of a ghost, or the automated house had bled throughthe story into reality.

Theneedle on her record player in the living room was moved away while she wasdigging the first aid kit out of the bathroom. The music stopped.

Sheheard the water bottles that she left out being drunk in the kitchen while she leftthe first aid kit in the bedroom.

Theshower in the bathroom ran while she peeled an apple in the kitchen.

Sheput away the empty water bottles that were left, and the first aid kit had beencarefully closed back up and left in its exact same spot as before. Thebathroom smelled like blood, but the shower had rinsed it all down the drain.The clothes that she left in the hall were gone.

Caroltook her apple and her knife with her to the bedroom and propped herself upagainst the headboard. She took her time slicing off bits of the apple andeating them off the edge of the knife. No doors slammed, no footsteps rushedout the backdoor, no cabinets were pilfered for weapons or supplies…There wasjust a strange quiet permeating the air.

WhenDaryl first peered around the doorframe, it took all of her not to look at him.She carefully kept her eyes on the apple in her hands. Even as her heartshattered at the way Daryl inched his way more into the doorway, she tried togive away nothing. Her hands betrayed her, trembling a bit as she held theapple core.

Evenat the farm, even at the quarry, he hadn’t been like this. The spitfire, theemotional gestures, the smart remarks…Who was this man before her who tiptoedbetween rooms, who refused to meet her eyes, who seemed so utterly defeated…Whathappened to you?

Helingered for a full minute in the doorway without acknowledgement before Carolassessed that he wasn’t going to bolt. She set her knife and apple core aside,carefully moving her eyes to meet his. The clothes that she’d given him didn’tmatch. The green sweatpants looked a size too big, and the long sleeved navyshirt was two sizes too big. But they covered him, if that was what he wanted.The only skin she could see were his hands, his neck, and his face. He hadscrubbed all of that visible skin until it was clean and pink, and she couldsee fingernail marks where he’d scrubbed too viciously. His hair was drippingonto the shoulders of his shirt.

Heheld her gaze. Baby steps.

“Hi,”she said softly, simply.

Astrangled, half swallowed noise clawed out of his throat, and he looked awayfrom her. It made her chest ache, and she slowly reached one hand across theempty space on the bed beside her in silent invitation. A full body shudderwent through him, but, as though that invitation had been an order, Darylstepped into the room and crossed to the bed.

Shecould tell he was hurting, physically and everywhere else, by the ginger way hesank into the mattress. There was an outline of a bandage pushing at the fabricof his shirt over her shoulder, and she tried not to linger on it. He carefullymoved onto his back, facing away from her, barely within arms’ reach. It was astart.

Carolwaited until he was settled before reaching out and touching him. She let herpalm rest over his arm, not even holding him, just letting her hand rest laxthere. He flinched but quickly relaxed, and Carol closed her eyes, tilting herhead back against the headboard. She remembered the end of the Bradbury story…theshadows on the sides of the house of the residents, destroyed in a radiationblast or a bomb or…something.

Yetstill the house continued.

Shedrew a shaky breath. Leaving Alexandria was supposed to come with the illusionthat the others would be okay…that they would be better off with her gone, thatthey would figure things out and be safe…like they always found a way to be.

Nowhere Daryl was, alone, and in this condition…She ached, and she felt like afool.

Thetremble in her breath was simultaneous with Daryl’s, and even that barestmoment of synchronization made her desperate. Her hand tightened around hisarm.

Where are you,sweetheart?

Asif in answer, Daryl abruptly rolled over so that he was facing her, and hemanaged to immediately curl into a ball and push his forehead against her thighuntil his face disappeared. Carol let her hand light on his shoulder, and whenhe didn’t shove her off, she moved her other hand to his head. It was anawkward embrace, but she held on desperately and tried not to put too muchpressure on his body.

“Icain’t…” he murmured.

Sheremembered the woods, keeping watch with him, his staring at her with aninfinite patience that had frustrated her. She hadn’t wanted to talk about it…Couldn’t.

“Okay,”she whispered, holding him closer.

Hisarm wound around her leg, like a security blanket.

“…Thoughtyou were gone.” He was hoarse.

“Iwas…I am,” she replied slowly, honestly. Her gaze unfocused, hearing her recordplayer issuing quiet static in the other room. “But the house continues.”

Somethingin his frame seemed to crack, and he squeezed her leg closer. She hunched overfurther to be closer to him. He exhaled so heavily that she stopped breathingas she waited for him to inhale again. He did, and they both shuddered.

Shewas terrified. She was so scared to know what had happened. All the questionsthat she was afraid to ask and that Daryl seemed too traumatized to answer. Itcould wait. It could all wait for at least a day.

“Imissed you,” she whispered into his hair.

Darylchoked, and her eyes burned as they both broke together.

Together.

Carolbreathed in the smell of cheap soap in his hair and the underlying scent ofDaryl’s skin. Today they were ashen silhouettes on the side of the building,but tomorrow the sun would still rise.

“I’m so sorry...”

Great, I’ve gone and done it again.. :[

–

Daryl stood at the foot of her bed,staring at her. The solid blue sling around his shoulder stood out starklyagainst his rumpled appearance. Alarm coursed through Carol’s veins likegasoline, sparking on the raw nerves of the bullet wounds in her limbs, theknife wound on her side. He was pale, and there were dark rings bruising thehollows of his eyes. He wasn’t speaking, but he was standing…and staring…at her.

Carol pursed her lips and broke eyecontact, looking away to the blank wall of the room of the infirmary. Thepeople of the Kingdom still assigned a value to physical privacy that she hadn’texperienced in months. Having the room to herself, even though she knew therewas a sentry standing on the other side of the door, had been a mercy when she’dfirst woken up here.

But now, occupying the same spaceas Daryl, with him looking at her like he was, the walls seemed to shrinkinward.

“Go,” she whispered, closing hereyes. “Please.”

“Nah.” The single syllable came outlike gravel.

Her insides coiled, and she turnedher face across the pillow.

“Cain’t leave.”

She wasn’t sure if he was talking abouthimself or her. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t be here. She couldn’t have himhere. As soon as she was able, then she wouldn’t be here either. She would takeher bags and leave this Kingdom place too. It turned out that the Kingdom hadconnections to the Hilltop…She hadn’t escaped yet.

“I don’t want you here,” shehissed, her lungs protesting at the lie.

She had asked them not to comelooking for her. Morgan must have contacted Alexandria some time while she wasunconscious. He just didn’t know how to leave it alone. She didn’t want hisintervention. She didn’t want his help. He couldn’t help. No one could help.Not even Daryl…Even if he could, she didn’t want him to try…She didn’t want todrag him into this…

“Carol—“

Hearing her name in his mouth hadher coiled insides turning into crooked wires. Her resolve weakened against herwill, and she opened her eyes.

“Go away.”

“No.”

“Dammit, Daryl.” Carol sat up toofast, and her shoulder screamed at her.

Her whole body hitched, and he tooka concerned step toward her. She glared so hard that he stopped in his tracks,hurt flashing across his face.

“Stop,” she pleaded. “Just go. Gohome. I’m not—we’re not—this isn’t what you think it is. I’m not coming back.”

His jaw set, and even under thegauntness of his face, she saw the stubborn glint in his eyes.

“Then I’ll go with you. You don’tgotta do this alone. We can figure it out.”

“No we can’t! Don’t you get it?! Idon’t want you to come with me. I can’t have you there.” It felt like shards ofglass in her throat, but she swallowed it back.

“Tough shit,” Daryl bristled. “Eversince I’ve known you, you been pullin’ me back from the ledge. You don’t get towrite yourself off now, not after all this.”

“Especially after all this, that’sexactly what I get to do,” she growled at him.

Her heart was tearing itself inhalf, but she had to make him understand. Daryl was loyal to a fault, and heloved her down to her damned soul. She loved him too much to let him destroyhimself by following her into Hell. She loved him, and she knew that she COULDkill for him, but…she couldn’t…

Every molecule of her being washating her for what she was doing, but if she had to be cruel to him in orderto save him, then…maybe that was for the best too.

“You can’t help me,” she breathedout. “I don’t want you to. I don’t want you. So leave.”

Daryl’s response was to take a stepcloser, a little wobbly but solid.

There was that lance of concern inher chest again.

Whathappened to your shoulder?

Whyare you so pale?

Youneed to drink something; you look dehydrated.

Sitdown.

Laydown.

Rest.

“You are so full of shit.” Hiswords were low, under his breath, full of every emotion except venom.

The bite still dug deeply though,and Carol narrowed her eyes. She said nothing and just looked away. Shecontinued to stare resolute and despondent until he exhaled hard, turned, andleft the room. He slammed the door after himself with his foot, and sheflinched.

A beat passed, and Carol lifted heruninjured arm to her face, pressing her eyes into the crook of her elbow, anddrawing a deep breath. Her chest shuddered, and the tremble that ran throughher aggravated her side, her arm, her shoulder.

She was so full of shit, but if hershit kept him alive, then that is what she would do. She refused to damn himwith herself. She held herself and cried dry tears that burned the backs of hereyes.

On the other side of the door,Daryl made it around the corner, away from the sentry’s gaze, before he wasdoubling over and putting a hand on the wall. He wanted to vomit, but there wasnothing left to come up after the last 36 hours. He wasn’t sure if he wasactually dizzy or just so angry that the world seemed to be tilting.

“Daryl.” Morgan approached quickly.“Here, sit down.”

Daryl snarled but let Morgan steerhim into a plastic chair in the hallway.

“You can’t leave her like this. Iknow she says she wants you gone,” Morgan was saying quietly. “But that ain’twhat—“

“I know that, asshole.” Darylglared hotly at him. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere. She knows that.”

Morgan frowned. “Daryl, Carol isnot in a good place right now. She’s suffering—“

“Stop. Stop talking like you knowshit about her. You don’t. You don’t know her.” Daryl flung his arm in areckless gesture toward Carol’s room. “So just stop.”

Morgan smartly did not respond, andDaryl ran a hand over his face, fidgeting uncomfortably with the sling that hadimmobilized his other arm. The movement woke up a twinge of pain, and hesavored the feeling. As long as something could still hurt, then he was stillalive and there was still something that he could do to fix this.

“Said the bastard that shot her isdead? You kill him?” he asked, looking up at Morgan.

The other man looked tortured, buthe nodded. “Yes.”

Daryl swallowed thickly and lookedtoward Carol’s closed door. “Go back to Alexandria.”

“Daryl—“

“You done enough here.” Darylsighed and sat back. “M’grateful for your help, but she ain’t. You bein’ hereis hurtin’ her.”

“So are you,” Morgan said gently. “Ifyou know her, then you know that.”

“I’m stayin’,” Daryl said firmly. “She’sstuck with me when I said worse to her. Not gonna let her push me away now.”