Chapter Text
The rain would be the loudest at night. It would pour down onto the roof and slide down the walls. It would taunt them; remind them of what's not possible. It's their greatest fear.
But also what keeps them alive.
Water.
It's something you need in order to survive. And to keep yourself clean but Daryl gave that up a long time ago. Water was something that they searched for every day but also the thing that they hid from. Just one drop of water on your skin and you would be spasming on the floor within a second. Daryl has seen multiple people be savagely killed by the rain.
The rain doesn't affect everyone, however. Walkers roamed the streets and walk through the rain as if it hasn't killed hundreds of thousands of people.
He and Carol have killed countless walkers, leaving them behind like a thick snail trail. He would watch as she drove her knife through its frail skull and pull it out, only to continue walking like it wasn't abnormal. It drove him crazy some days, watching her. She was beautiful as she looked around and her eyes would meet his and the corners of her lips would turn upwards, her eyes shining with mirth. But he knew that behind that smile of hers, she was hiding her grief. She was hiding the fact that she was in so much fucking pain that she would have to bury her face in her hands at night to muffle out her crying just so that she wouldn't attract any walkers.
It drove him crazy.
She was his everything. He knew more than well that she can protect herself, probably better than he ever will be able to. But he would do absolutely anything for her.
And she hates it.
~~~~
Carol knew that no matter how far they walked or how high they climb, that they will never escape the terror that the world has come to. It was awful how much she had changed over the course of four years. She had to change. If she had been the way she was when the rain came, she would've been dead by now. It almost frightens her how much she has changed, how much she has lost and how much she has gained.
She blamed herself for many things and it was starting to become a problem that not only she was suffering from. Daryl has started to notice it too. Or maybe he has known all along but hasn't voiced it. Haven't voiced how Carol was picking around in her valuable food, or how she would stare into the air and wish that everything would just end already. Maybe she would've ended things herself if it weren't for him.
For Daryl.
He was her everything. The reason she woke up in the morning and the reason she kept on fighting. She stopped fighting for herself the second she saw her child on the ground writhing. She had failed again. She had failed another child that sought to her. She stopped fighting then.
Daryl knew that she was hurting, that she was suffering but he never said it aloud. And she appreciated it endlessly because truth be told, she wouldn't know what to say. She sees his gazes and his small efforts to cheer her up. She knew he would do anything for her, and she hates it. She hates how he would take a bullet for her when she doesn't deserve it.
He would do anything for her.
~~~~
"This ain't enough for the both of us." Daryl expresses, facing Carol who is currently sitting on the couch with a thick book in her hands.
She eyes the cans he has in his hands. "We'll find more," She says as she flips a page, "I'll find more."
Daryl pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, pondering if he should say what he's currently thinking. "We've got peas growing, and fuckin' watermelons. Maybe some are ready to be eaten soon." He turns his back to her, not wanting to see her eye roll.
"I won't go far. And even if I did it's not going to be a problem." Her voice was getting high pitch at the end. She laid the book down and shuffled over to where he was standing, eyeing the three cans of fruit that taste like plastic. She put her hand on his shoulder. "You know I wouldn't risk anything."
He turns his head to her, and he sees the little smile that's spread on the delicate pink lips of hers. He smiles back and nods. "I know."
~~~~
Days either go by really quickly or really slow. And time moves extra slow when Carol is outside. Outside where no one is safe. Daryl focuses on keeping the house in check; The small holes in the wall, making sure there's no leakage in the ceiling or windows that are beginning to crack.
He trusts her to the max. Or at least he has. Nowadays she seems so unpredictable. One day she's laughing and joking with him and one day she's swallowing pills like no tomorrow. It scared him. It scared him a lot. But he knew that things will only get worse if he tries to talk her out of it. She's told him that it makes her feel pushed up against a wall with no escape. So he doesn't say anything when she's mindlessly picking at the skin with her nails so it causes a rash or when she stares into the floor for too long. But when she takes or tries, to take the pills that she's somehow managed to get her hands on, he tries his very best to get her to either spit them out or just hand them over. It usually ends up with her swallowing them and her being upset because she feels like an asshole.
It never ends well either way.
~~~~
"Look," She showed off her findings as she scuffled through the bag, "I even found a new flower pot." She tenderly lifted the pot that was made out of clay, a big smile on her lips.
"Where'd ya find all this? How far did ya go?" He quickly looked over the plants and weapons she's brought home, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows.
She waved a hand at him, "Not far. But look! These are edible, you know."
He dropped it. He always did because he never wins. He never will, either.
"You hungry?" He asks, opening a can of plastic-like fruit.
"Sure."
The table they sat at was unsteady and it creaked when Daryl put his elbows on it. It was quiet until the usual sound of thuds on the roof started to fill the room. Carol looked up to the ceiling, making sure it wasn't leaking. She went back to eating, poking her fork into a piece of pineapple.
"I hate that sound." She whispers.
Daryl nodded, "I know."
When the rain is at its heaviest is when Daryl starts to shake. It doesn't matter how many times he has heard it, smelt it or seen it, he'll never get used to it. He knows that the woman lying next to him feels the same way. He sees her spine curving on her back, and her short but growing hair spread out on the pillow. He knows that she's awake and listening. And he knows what she's thinking about.
Who she's thinking about.
He fears that one day he'll lose her, that one day she won't be there when he wakes up. He fears that she's had enough. Because without her he has nothing.
"Carol?" He murmurs, placing a hand on her shoulder blade. "Carol, hey."
She turns her head to look for him, and then she turns her body around fully. Her eyes are glassy and her lips in a tight line. She knows that he knows. And she knows that he's scared. Scared for her.
Her eyes flutter closed when his hand gently cups her cheek and wipe away a tear that's running down her jaw. He doesn't say anything, he just scoots closer and lay his forehead against hers. His arms between their bodies. He knows just what to do. He knows that she can't take the pressure of his arm around her when she's feeling like this.
He knows it all.
And it's terrifying.