FIC: Safe as Houses (The Walking Dead, Carol/Daryl, 1/1)
Title: Safe as Houses
Author: cindergal
Rating: PG13
Characters/Pairing: Carol/Daryl
Summary: it’s such a relief to let someone else be strong for her
Spoilers: through most recently aired episode
Word Count: 767
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. No profit, no harm, no foul.
Prompt: Written for the hc_bingo prompt "bodyguards"
A/N: Not beta'd. As always, all mistakes are mine, mine, mine.
After Beth’s death, Rick doesn’t have to tell them all to stick close. No one seems to want to stray too far from each other, anyway. They’re all worried about Maggie and they’ve circled the wagons, trying to support her through this latest trauma, though this world they live in hardly gives you enough time to grieve a loss before you need to move on to the simple business of surviving. Carol knows this as well as anyone, but of course, they all do.
She’s worried about Daryl, too. He’s taking Beth’s death hard, blaming himself, though he hasn’t come out and said it. When it’s her turn to gather firewood, he goes with her as he always does. In fact, he’s barely left her side since they left the hospital in Atlanta. He stays half a step behind, watching her back, eyes alert and scanning the forest for threats. At one point he puts a hand on her shoulder to stop her, then moves deftly in front of her to take out a walker several paces away. She smiles at him as he returns from retrieving his bolt.
“Thanks. You know, you make a pretty good bodyguard,” she teases, trying to lighten the mood. There’s been precious little lightness lately, especially from her, she knows. She misses that part of their relationship. But her attempt fails miserably.
“Yeah,” he scoffs. “Tell that to Beth.”
“Daryl…”
“And for the record,” he says, pointing at her with the blunt end of his bolt, “I ain’t followin’ you around because you need a damn bodyguard, ‘cause you sure as hell proved you can take care of yourself. I’m followin’ you around so you don’t fuckin’ get up and leave on me.” He shoves the bolt back in place and hauls the crossbow across his shoulder before stalking off deeper into the woods.
She follows at a steady pace until they find an area with a lot of downed limbs that they can harvest. Daryl props his crossbow up against a tree trunk, and they begin gathering them into piles.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she says.
“She was with me, she got nabbed, and now she’s dead.”
“You’re not responsible for everyone, Daryl. You can’t be everywhere at once.”
He just sighs and breaks a tree limb across his knee into pieces of a more manageable size.
“Not sure you should be the one givin’ out advice about not takin’ on blame,” he says.
“You don’t…” She shakes her head. “It’s different. You don’t know, Daryl.”
He’s stopped working now, and is just standing there, looking at her. “I’m still right here,” he says softly.
She doesn’t even realize that she’s crying until he reaches out and brushes the tears from her face with his thumb.
“Lizzie killed her sister,” she blurts out, crying harder, now. “She killed Mika, so that she would come back as a walker.”
Daryl is staring at her in shock. “Jesus Christ.”
“Something was wrong with her. She didn’t understand…she didn’t understand the difference. I tried to make her understand, Tyreese tried, but she would get upset when we killed them. And then…it would have been Judith next, Daryl. She said so. I had to…I had to…Tyreese couldn’t do it.”
“You had to,” he agrees. “Carol, you had to.” His arms are tight around her and she’s sobbing into his solid chest, and it’s such a relief to let someone else be strong for her, and to know that he understands, that he gets it. That he gets her. But then again, he always has. His shirt is soaked through by the time she pulls herself together, and she smiles up at him wetly, blinking away the last of her tears.
“You gotta promise me something,” he says, taking her face gently in his hands. “You gotta promise me you’re not gonna leave me. Because Carol, I can’t…I just can’t.”
She nods. She can’t do that to him, and she doesn’t want to be without him. “I promise, Daryl,” she says, putting her hands over his. “I promise.”
They tie up their bundles of sticks and carry them back towards camp, and at one point Carol puts a hand on Daryl’s arm to stop him, drops her bundle, takes out her knife, and takes care of a walker a few yards away. Then she holsters her knife, picks up her bundle, and they continue walking.
“Make a good bodyguard,” Daryl says, after a few paces. She grins and bumps his shoulder with her own.
And for the first time in a long time she feels…safe.
Author: cindergal
Rating: PG13
Characters/Pairing: Carol/Daryl
Summary: it’s such a relief to let someone else be strong for her
Spoilers: through most recently aired episode
Word Count: 767
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. No profit, no harm, no foul.
Prompt: Written for the hc_bingo prompt "bodyguards"
A/N: Not beta'd. As always, all mistakes are mine, mine, mine.
After Beth’s death, Rick doesn’t have to tell them all to stick close. No one seems to want to stray too far from each other, anyway. They’re all worried about Maggie and they’ve circled the wagons, trying to support her through this latest trauma, though this world they live in hardly gives you enough time to grieve a loss before you need to move on to the simple business of surviving. Carol knows this as well as anyone, but of course, they all do.
She’s worried about Daryl, too. He’s taking Beth’s death hard, blaming himself, though he hasn’t come out and said it. When it’s her turn to gather firewood, he goes with her as he always does. In fact, he’s barely left her side since they left the hospital in Atlanta. He stays half a step behind, watching her back, eyes alert and scanning the forest for threats. At one point he puts a hand on her shoulder to stop her, then moves deftly in front of her to take out a walker several paces away. She smiles at him as he returns from retrieving his bolt.
“Thanks. You know, you make a pretty good bodyguard,” she teases, trying to lighten the mood. There’s been precious little lightness lately, especially from her, she knows. She misses that part of their relationship. But her attempt fails miserably.
“Yeah,” he scoffs. “Tell that to Beth.”
“Daryl…”
“And for the record,” he says, pointing at her with the blunt end of his bolt, “I ain’t followin’ you around because you need a damn bodyguard, ‘cause you sure as hell proved you can take care of yourself. I’m followin’ you around so you don’t fuckin’ get up and leave on me.” He shoves the bolt back in place and hauls the crossbow across his shoulder before stalking off deeper into the woods.
She follows at a steady pace until they find an area with a lot of downed limbs that they can harvest. Daryl props his crossbow up against a tree trunk, and they begin gathering them into piles.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she says.
“She was with me, she got nabbed, and now she’s dead.”
“You’re not responsible for everyone, Daryl. You can’t be everywhere at once.”
He just sighs and breaks a tree limb across his knee into pieces of a more manageable size.
“Not sure you should be the one givin’ out advice about not takin’ on blame,” he says.
“You don’t…” She shakes her head. “It’s different. You don’t know, Daryl.”
He’s stopped working now, and is just standing there, looking at her. “I’m still right here,” he says softly.
She doesn’t even realize that she’s crying until he reaches out and brushes the tears from her face with his thumb.
“Lizzie killed her sister,” she blurts out, crying harder, now. “She killed Mika, so that she would come back as a walker.”
Daryl is staring at her in shock. “Jesus Christ.”
“Something was wrong with her. She didn’t understand…she didn’t understand the difference. I tried to make her understand, Tyreese tried, but she would get upset when we killed them. And then…it would have been Judith next, Daryl. She said so. I had to…I had to…Tyreese couldn’t do it.”
“You had to,” he agrees. “Carol, you had to.” His arms are tight around her and she’s sobbing into his solid chest, and it’s such a relief to let someone else be strong for her, and to know that he understands, that he gets it. That he gets her. But then again, he always has. His shirt is soaked through by the time she pulls herself together, and she smiles up at him wetly, blinking away the last of her tears.
“You gotta promise me something,” he says, taking her face gently in his hands. “You gotta promise me you’re not gonna leave me. Because Carol, I can’t…I just can’t.”
She nods. She can’t do that to him, and she doesn’t want to be without him. “I promise, Daryl,” she says, putting her hands over his. “I promise.”
They tie up their bundles of sticks and carry them back towards camp, and at one point Carol puts a hand on Daryl’s arm to stop him, drops her bundle, takes out her knife, and takes care of a walker a few yards away. Then she holsters her knife, picks up her bundle, and they continue walking.
“Make a good bodyguard,” Daryl says, after a few paces. She grins and bumps his shoulder with her own.
And for the first time in a long time she feels…safe.