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Daryl Dixon (littledixon) wrote in makebelievelog,

“He doesn’t have thirty years to grow out of it, Carol,” Daryl pointed out, his head tilted slightly as he continued to stare up at her through squinted eyes. There was a sunset happening right behind her, but his entire attention was on her face. “He’s here, now, dealin’ with this shit… Stubborn as a fuckin’ mule, I know, I been there. But there are people everywhere watchin’ him, judgin’ him… He’s gotta get his shit together now, and I dunno how ‘cause I sure as hell didn’t.” He finally turned his gaze away from her, dropping his head as he let the weight guide his chin to his chest. He rubbed the back of his neck tiredly, trying to calm his shit before he ended up getting her pissed at him all over again.

“I know it ain’t his fault,” he finally continued, quietly. “Or mine.” He added that more for her benefit than his own. He couldn’t say that he truly believed it even as he said it, but he knew it was what Carol wanted to hear. Or so he guessed. Hell if he ever knew what this woman ever wanted. He just tried his best. She made him want to try his best. Only her. “I’m tryin’… I really am.”

Daryl gave a sharp nod as she brought up Ed. Of course he remembered the prick. More than once, Ed had tried to get rough with Carol in places that he thought was secluded from the camp, but he always seemed to forget that Merle and Daryl had chosen the outskirts of the area to call “home.” He could remember more than once Merle and Ed glaring at each other in a battle of wills before Ed would go stomping off. Daryl had always wanted to go bust his fucking face in, but Merle would just mutter that it was none of his damn business and leave it be. That never stopped Daryl from hating the man from afar.

But the curse that slipped past her lips had him looking back up at her again, a smile playing his lips despite the dark subject matter. “Yeah, I remember,” he muttered, so that she knew exactly who he was talking about.