Warming Up Winter
written for: @captain-coffeebean
Title: Warming Up Winter Author: @theresnosafeharbor4myships Rating: Teens and up Summary: Three unrelated stories (one drabble, one ficlet, and one fic) in which Daryl’s cold winter is warmed up by Carol. :D A/N: Happy Merry Christmas Holidays, captain-coffeebean!! I hope your season has gone as well as possible, and even more I hope these little stories warm your Caryl heart! Season’s best!! <3
Fic #1
It’d started snowing three days out. He’d holed up in a dilapidated shack, keeping a fire going, foraging by day, drying wood by night, and feeding what littered the house to the flames.
So when he returned nearly a week later than expected and knocked on the locked front door, he expected an exuberant welcome. What he hadn’t expected? Carol throwing the door open and flinging herself at him. She knocked the wind out of him as he caught her in his arms, and they stood there on the porch in glistening moonlight, warming each other with whispers and kisses.
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Fic #2
They’d run, but the walkers had cornered them into the V of a large fence, and they’d had to make their stand.
Minutes later, when Carol pulled her knife out of the walker’s head and turned to see Daryl eliminating the last of the undead, she sighed with relief. She stood catching her breath as Daryl retrieved what remained of his bolts, watching his movements to ensure he wasn’t hurt.
When he finally stood facing her, his dark poncho dusted with snow and the evergreen behind him weighted heavily with the powder, an unexpected giggle burst forth from her.
His brows drew together. “What?”
She sniffled to hide her mirth. “With that tree behind you, snow all over you, and covered in…walker bits, you look like a mundane Krampus elf come to steal Christmas.”
Taken aback, he asked, “The hell’s a Krampus elf?”
She smirked, brushing his question aside with a flourish of her hand. “Come on, let’s head back. I wanna sleep in my bed tonight.”
He traipsed after her for a moment, his gaze ever vigilant for more danger. “Thought you were sleeping downstairs with me now,” he ventured, anxious at the words and how vulnerable he sounded.
Carol stopped and turned to face him, and he halted, swallowing hard. Her eyes perused him from head to foot and back up to meet his nervous gaze. “Not looking like that,” she teased.
Daryl let out a sigh of relief, the tension in him easing. “I can clean up alright,” he assured her, this teasing thing still new to him.
Carol approached him and reached up on tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’m counting on it,” she whispered cheekily, then turned and headed back towards home, leaving Daryl to follow her, anticipation of what she promised warming him against the cold winter wind.
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Fic #3
Carol had been acting weird for over a week now, and he hadn’t a clue what he’d done. She treated him politely, gave him wooden smiles, used the kids as buffers for their conversations, and skittered off to bed long before her normal time, which hurt more than he would’ve imagined. He’d gotten used to sitting with her in the soft glow of the firelight after the kids had gone to bed, each of them talking easily about their day.
But no longer—and he wanted to know why.
Daryl herded the kids upstairs as Carol finished the dinner dishes, with Lydia, wise beyond her years, promising to help Judy and RJ get to bed. Then he sat at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for the woman who never left his thoughts.
“Heading up to bed. G’night, Daryl,” he heard her call towards the front door. She must think him outside sneaking a smoke away from the eyes of the kids.
A moment later she rounded the corner and stopped short as her gaze landed on him, a small “oh” escaping her lips.
“I thought you were…” She threw a thumb over her shoulder towards the front of the house. “I’m just gonna…” She moved as if to maneuver around him, but her voice trailed off as he sat frozen in place, watching her with his intense stare.
She took a step back, her eyes peering off beyond him, refusing to meet his gaze. “I’m fine, Daryl,” she answered his silent question, pasting a long-unused soccer-mom smile on her face. “Just tired. Ready for bed.”
He squinted a bit, knowing she knew he knew she lied. Still, he wouldn’t push her; it wasn’t their way, and he knew it’d cause her to retreat more. They’d come so far this past year, and he wanted to continue moving forward. Closer, in tandem, together. But they wouldn’t be able to do that if he didn’t know what he’d done wrong.
“I’ll ask Maggie if she can help with the kids tomorrow. I know it ain’t easy corralin’ and teachin’ ‘em all day.” He saw her excuse for the front it was but also knew how exhausting the rascals could be. Maybe a day off would give them time to figure things out.
She gave him another faux smile. “Maggie’s busy enough as it is. I can manage.”
He felt a wall of false indifference start to build around his heart, that old defense mechanism creeping up to protect him. But God, how free he’d felt of late. They’d settled into…something. It’d had him feeling useful, cared for, expressive (at least for him), and hopeful for more than anything he’d ever dared dream about before. At the end of the world, no less. He wasn’t quite ready to let that go yet.
“I’ll stick around and help then,” he offered.
He saw something like fear in her eyes, though her expression didn’t change. “Who’s going to manage the building crew?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “They can do without me for a day.”
“Daryl—” she blurted his name, then stopped abruptly. “I’ll be fine. Really,” she assured him, her voice softer now, cajoling. “I just need some sleep.”
Daryl felt his reaction, knew the hurt covered his face, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
“Alright then,” he murmured, standing up slowly to leave her to her solitude. He couldn’t breach a gap she wanted between them, didn’t know what sin he’d committed to cause her to shun him like this. He’d just let her be.
He saw her shoulders fall as she watched him rise, though he didn’t meet her gaze any longer. He squeezed past her, and she stepped back to let him pass.
“Daryl…”
She sounded defeated, apologetic, but he kept moving, hurt and needing space.
“You said you’re the one I tell, right?”
He stopped moving, halfway between the basement stairwell and where she stood. She’d blurted the words out, and he could feel the waves of uncertainty emanating from her, even from this distance.
He’d said that to her months ago, though that encounter with her haunted him more than almost any other they’d had in the ten-plus years they’d known one another. She’d been so lost, so distant, no matter how close he’d wanted them to be. No matter how close he’d tried to stay to her. She’d just kept pushing him away until he feared she’d disappear and he’d slip right off the precipice with her. So he’d said those words—meant every syllable of them, too—and watched the shock overtake her expression. Had she not known? Couldn’t she see it written over him like graffiti?
If she hadn’t then, he felt sure she should know by now.
He turned his head until he could see her out of the corner of his eye, unable to fully face her with the hurt still written on his face. “Yeah.”
He heard her take an unsteady breath. “You said we have a future.”
Half question, half statement, he didn’t know if he was supposed to respond. Still, he slowly turned towards her. “I did,” he affirmed quietly, wondering where this strange walk down memory lane would take them.
Carol, picking at the nails on one hand, looked down at them before raising her gaze to his. Tears welled in her eyes, and he instantly wanted to go to her, brush them away like he had all those months ago. Hold her again.
He hated the distance she’d put between them again.
“Did you mean it?” she asked softly.
Daryl’s shoulders fell as he released the tension he held. She still didn’t know, didn’t realize…
“Meant every word,” he promised, his voice coming out in that gravelly low tone that seemed to appear when he and Carol had these intense moments that wrung feelings from his heart that he didn’t know how to handle. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Hope you aren’t either,” he added quietly.
She blinked watery eyes, sending rivulets down her pink cheeks as she shook her head. Then, unexpectedly, she flew towards him, and he gathered her in his arms as she crashed into him.
Confounded, he held her against him, reveling in this closeness, even as he didn’t know what it meant.
“I’m not,” she promised, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere. But I mess everything up, and I can’t do that with you. I never want to mess this up.”
He waited a moment, chewing on her words but still not sure what she meant.
“Mess what up?” he asked gently.
She huffed a laugh as she eased away from him, her hands resting on his arms, his hands at her waist. She reached up to brush his hair away from his eyes, a small smile taking over her face.
“The future. Our future.” Unable to hold his gaze, her eyes dropped to his chest as she continued. “These last few months have been wonderful, and it’s made me…feel things I haven’t ever… I just don’t want to mess anything up, but it’s hard not to—”
She stopped abruptly, and Daryl waited for more, his heart beating so erratically in his chest he wondered if she could hear it. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? She couldn’t possibly mean…
“Not to what?”
His voice came out as a whisper, and she hesitantly met his gaze again. He felt the air change around him, becoming a live wire, tempting and warm, as Carol stared intently at him.
“Not to this,” she murmured, a hand curling around the back of his neck to pull him down to meet her as she rose up on her toes.
He understood what was happening—though not why—and his eyes drifted closed as she touched her lips to his. Instant fire spread throughout him, and he wondered how he could burn so without combusting. He instinctively responded, kissing her back, his arms slowly sliding around her to pull her close again. Carol moaned low in her throat, sending wild butterflies loose in his belly and gooseflesh coursing up and down his body.
She pulled away from him a moment later, and he stared at her, mesmerized, pleased look on her face, eyes flaming bright blue, cheeks tinged pink, lips rosy from his kiss.
“Yes to that,” he mumbled, then leaned in to kiss her again. He felt her smile against his lips, and she threw her arms around his neck, her body flush against his.
He didn’t know how she thought she could mess up their future—they’d survived the world ending and everything that came with it. As far as he was concerned, their future looked merrier and brighter and warmer than anything he’d ever known. He’d let her know that, too. Just as soon as his mouth was free…
