FIC: Just Friends (TWD, Daryl/Carol, 1/1)
Title: Just Friends
Author: cindergal
Rating: T for mature themes
Characters/Pairing: Carol/Daryl
Summary: She’d wondered how this night would change things between them.
Word Count: 1249
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. No profit, no harm, no foul.
Prompts: Written for the
trope_bingo prompt "friends to lovers"
A/N: set post-S3
They had thought they were going to die that night. Not that that hadn’t happened before, of course, a hundred times. But this time they were alone together, just the two of them. Out of gas, out of food, out of water, out of time. They’d gone way off course to try and outrun a herd, and didn’t know how the others would ever be able to figure out where they’d ended up. They were trapped, walkers were at the door, and the locks wouldn’t hold forever.
So it had finally happened. That spark between them that had been there it seemed like forever caught fire, finally made real and alive because they thought they were dead. Words were said that should have been said a long time ago, and Carol thought to herself that if their time was up, at least she would die knowing that she was loved, knowing that she was wanted by this man who had come to mean the world to her. And he would know the same.
But they hadn’t died. Glenn had somehow found them, leading the walkers away with the blaring horn of his car, and they’d escaped back to the prison. Daryl had held her hand in a vice grip the whole way home in the backseat of the car, and she’d wondered how this night would change things between them.
That had been three days ago, and they’d barely spoken since.
At first she’d thought it was just the busyness of their lives now, the increased population at the prison bringing so much more responsibility to both of them. But it didn’t take long to realize that he was actively avoiding her, and she died a little inside every time he ducked her gaze and walked away.
He did finally seek her out, finding her in the garden that had been planted with the help of the Woodbury folks. Carol found it calming, working in the garden. Uplifting, even. The smell of fresh earth and sunshine, and the feeling of soil under her fingernails instead of blood and gore reminded her that even surrounded by death, she was still alive.
“Carol,” he said, and the way he said it made her wonder how long he’d been standing there trying to get her attention before she noticed him, lost in her thoughts, which had been - ironically - of him. She squinted up at him, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun.
“What do you want, Daryl?” She tried to keep her tone neutral, but she was afraid she sounded pissed off. And she wasn’t pissed off. She was incredibly hurt, but she wasn’t mad.
“We need to talk.”
Carol sighed. “Well nothing good ever comes after that phrase, does it?” Despite those words to the contrary and her efforts to tamp down the feeling, a little seed of hope bloomed inside her.
She went to stand up and he offered her a hand. Hesitating, she finally took it, inwardly shaking her head at herself. How had it come to this, that after everything they’d been through, now it was awkward for her to take his hand?
She followed Daryl over into the shade of the building, grateful to get out of the heat, and they sat down on some boxes that were shoved up against the wall, making sure to keep some space between them. Daryl stared down at his boots and kicked at a clod of dirt.
“What’s on your mind, Daryl?” she finally asked him.
“I…uh…” He leaned forward and she couldn’t see his eyes for the sheaf of hair that fell over his face, but she could see the tips of his ears peaking through, flushing red. “We…we didn’t use no rubber, the other night. And I’ve been worried…”
A part of her was amused at his embarrassment to talk about these kind of things, but mostly she just felt sorry for him.
“Yes, I guess we weren’t really thinking ahead, were we?”
He sat up a little, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s just…with Lori and all. I…worry.” He cleared his throat. “I worry about you.”
She was oddly touched by this. “There’s no need to worry. I had complications when Sophia was born so I can’t have any more.”
He nodded, swallowing hard, but he made no move to leave.
“Something else you want to talk about?”
He finally raised his head to look at her then, and there was such anguish there on his face that she just wanted to put her arms around him and comfort him, but she held herself back.
“Can we just go back to the way it was before?” he blurted out. “Please?”
She had been expecting this, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. She’d been an idiot to hope for even a moment that he was here to ask her to go steady, or whatever the end of the world equivalent was. A million sarcastic comebacks came to mind, but she wouldn’t use any of them on him. She had no desire to hurt him; he’d been hurt enough in his life.
“Of course,” she said, “I get it. People say things in the heat of the moment that they don’t mean. It’s all right.”
He lifted his chin, nostrils flaring and eyes narrowed. “That what you did? Cuz I didn’t say nothing to you that I didn’t mean.”
His anger took her aback, and she was starting to work up a little of her own, now. “You said you loved me, Daryl.”
He held her gaze defiantly. “Yeah, I did.”
“Then why do you want to go back to the way things were?”
“If that’s what I gotta do to have you talk to me again, then I’ll do it. Because this not talking bullshit is driving me crazy.”
Carol just stared at him for a moment. And then she burst out laughing.
“This funny to you?” he said, clearly pissed, and this only made her laugh harder.
“No, wait!” she said, as he made to get up and leave. She clamped a hand over his arm and pulled him back down beside her, composing herself quickly. “I was laughing because I thought you weren’t talking to me.”
He frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean for you to think that. I just…I didn’t know how to act, I guess.”
She still had a hand on his forearm, and she slid it down to take hold of his hand. “Yeah, me neither.”
“Really?” He turned his hand over so they were palm to palm, and threaded his fingers through hers. “Guess I figured you would. You been married and had a kid, and me, I ain’t never…”
“What, Daryl? You never what?”
He stared down at their entwined hands. “I ain’t never been in love before,” he said softly.
“Daryl,” she said, and waited until he looked at her. “Neither have I.”
The rare smile he gave her then was one she knew she would remember for the rest of her life, no matter how short or long that turned out to be. He brought her hand up and kissed the back of it, then he leaned in to kiss her mouth, his hands coming up to frame her face.
She grinned at him when he finally pulled away. “So, you don’t want to go back to being just friends then?”
“Never was just friends,” he said, and kissed her again.
Author: cindergal
Rating: T for mature themes
Characters/Pairing: Carol/Daryl
Summary: She’d wondered how this night would change things between them.
Word Count: 1249
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. No profit, no harm, no foul.
Prompts: Written for the
trope_bingo prompt "friends to lovers"
A/N: set post-S3
They had thought they were going to die that night. Not that that hadn’t happened before, of course, a hundred times. But this time they were alone together, just the two of them. Out of gas, out of food, out of water, out of time. They’d gone way off course to try and outrun a herd, and didn’t know how the others would ever be able to figure out where they’d ended up. They were trapped, walkers were at the door, and the locks wouldn’t hold forever.
So it had finally happened. That spark between them that had been there it seemed like forever caught fire, finally made real and alive because they thought they were dead. Words were said that should have been said a long time ago, and Carol thought to herself that if their time was up, at least she would die knowing that she was loved, knowing that she was wanted by this man who had come to mean the world to her. And he would know the same.
But they hadn’t died. Glenn had somehow found them, leading the walkers away with the blaring horn of his car, and they’d escaped back to the prison. Daryl had held her hand in a vice grip the whole way home in the backseat of the car, and she’d wondered how this night would change things between them.
That had been three days ago, and they’d barely spoken since.
At first she’d thought it was just the busyness of their lives now, the increased population at the prison bringing so much more responsibility to both of them. But it didn’t take long to realize that he was actively avoiding her, and she died a little inside every time he ducked her gaze and walked away.
He did finally seek her out, finding her in the garden that had been planted with the help of the Woodbury folks. Carol found it calming, working in the garden. Uplifting, even. The smell of fresh earth and sunshine, and the feeling of soil under her fingernails instead of blood and gore reminded her that even surrounded by death, she was still alive.
“Carol,” he said, and the way he said it made her wonder how long he’d been standing there trying to get her attention before she noticed him, lost in her thoughts, which had been - ironically - of him. She squinted up at him, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun.
“What do you want, Daryl?” She tried to keep her tone neutral, but she was afraid she sounded pissed off. And she wasn’t pissed off. She was incredibly hurt, but she wasn’t mad.
“We need to talk.”
Carol sighed. “Well nothing good ever comes after that phrase, does it?” Despite those words to the contrary and her efforts to tamp down the feeling, a little seed of hope bloomed inside her.
She went to stand up and he offered her a hand. Hesitating, she finally took it, inwardly shaking her head at herself. How had it come to this, that after everything they’d been through, now it was awkward for her to take his hand?
She followed Daryl over into the shade of the building, grateful to get out of the heat, and they sat down on some boxes that were shoved up against the wall, making sure to keep some space between them. Daryl stared down at his boots and kicked at a clod of dirt.
“What’s on your mind, Daryl?” she finally asked him.
“I…uh…” He leaned forward and she couldn’t see his eyes for the sheaf of hair that fell over his face, but she could see the tips of his ears peaking through, flushing red. “We…we didn’t use no rubber, the other night. And I’ve been worried…”
A part of her was amused at his embarrassment to talk about these kind of things, but mostly she just felt sorry for him.
“Yes, I guess we weren’t really thinking ahead, were we?”
He sat up a little, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s just…with Lori and all. I…worry.” He cleared his throat. “I worry about you.”
She was oddly touched by this. “There’s no need to worry. I had complications when Sophia was born so I can’t have any more.”
He nodded, swallowing hard, but he made no move to leave.
“Something else you want to talk about?”
He finally raised his head to look at her then, and there was such anguish there on his face that she just wanted to put her arms around him and comfort him, but she held herself back.
“Can we just go back to the way it was before?” he blurted out. “Please?”
She had been expecting this, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. She’d been an idiot to hope for even a moment that he was here to ask her to go steady, or whatever the end of the world equivalent was. A million sarcastic comebacks came to mind, but she wouldn’t use any of them on him. She had no desire to hurt him; he’d been hurt enough in his life.
“Of course,” she said, “I get it. People say things in the heat of the moment that they don’t mean. It’s all right.”
He lifted his chin, nostrils flaring and eyes narrowed. “That what you did? Cuz I didn’t say nothing to you that I didn’t mean.”
His anger took her aback, and she was starting to work up a little of her own, now. “You said you loved me, Daryl.”
He held her gaze defiantly. “Yeah, I did.”
“Then why do you want to go back to the way things were?”
“If that’s what I gotta do to have you talk to me again, then I’ll do it. Because this not talking bullshit is driving me crazy.”
Carol just stared at him for a moment. And then she burst out laughing.
“This funny to you?” he said, clearly pissed, and this only made her laugh harder.
“No, wait!” she said, as he made to get up and leave. She clamped a hand over his arm and pulled him back down beside her, composing herself quickly. “I was laughing because I thought you weren’t talking to me.”
He frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean for you to think that. I just…I didn’t know how to act, I guess.”
She still had a hand on his forearm, and she slid it down to take hold of his hand. “Yeah, me neither.”
“Really?” He turned his hand over so they were palm to palm, and threaded his fingers through hers. “Guess I figured you would. You been married and had a kid, and me, I ain’t never…”
“What, Daryl? You never what?”
He stared down at their entwined hands. “I ain’t never been in love before,” he said softly.
“Daryl,” she said, and waited until he looked at her. “Neither have I.”
The rare smile he gave her then was one she knew she would remember for the rest of her life, no matter how short or long that turned out to be. He brought her hand up and kissed the back of it, then he leaned in to kiss her mouth, his hands coming up to frame her face.
She grinned at him when he finally pulled away. “So, you don’t want to go back to being just friends then?”
“Never was just friends,” he said, and kissed her again.