Requiem of a Memory

The little ass-kicker was living up to her name. Despite it being so late that it was early the baby carried onward, crying and screaming as if there already wasn't a possibility of no tomorrow, kicking everyone's asses out of dream land. Rick was out on watch, leaving Carl to look over Judith. As much as Carl tried though, nothing he did seemed to soothe the baby, leaving Carl drained and frustrated, especially since he had a long day himself, having been on watch earlier. Feeling sorry for the boy Carol offered to take Judith, bringing her to the back area in a nearby section of the prison used as a kitchen of sorts to try and see if the baby was perhaps hungry. Sure enough, the baby began quieting down upon the familiar route to the kitchens.

She approached the area with caution, despite it having been long since cleaned and was less-than surprised to see Daryl in the area as well, seated upon the counter, flipping through a book he had managed to swipe during a supply run. He took on most of the night watches and as a result adapted a more nocturnal sleeping schedule, leaving him up and awake at times such as now. He glanced up at the loudening wail of a distressed infant drawing nearer, shooting a half-smile and smirk. "Well, well. If it ain't the little ass kicker kicking everyone's sorry asses up and awake."

Carol smiled in reply, a shiver tingling down her spine at that familiar look on Daryl's face. "Don't encourage her. Her poor brother was at wits end, not knowing what to do to make her stop. I think she might be hungry again."

"Damn, gurl! Again? I seen Beth feed you barely even two hours ago. Yer like a bottomless pit with that formula." He teased, snickering.

"She really is! I've never seen a baby chug this much food so fast!" Carol laughed. "But that's alright, isn't it sweetheart? Means you're nice and healthy." She tapped the infant on the nose affectionately before turning to Daryl. "Do you mind holding her for a minute while I mix her a bottle?"

Without hesitation, he smiled and nodded, extending his arms. "Sure. Hand the little ass kicker over."

As Carol handed the baby over to him, their hands and arms brushed against her. It was an innocent touch, despite the not-so-innocent cache of thoughts that flashed through Carol's mind in reply. She thanked God there was only the small lantern Daryl had been using as light, else he might've seen the blush that was forming on her cheeks. Once Judith was settled and comfortable in Daryl's arms, Carol set off to work on the bottle. As she began setting up and mixing the water and powder she couldn't help but stare at the sight before her.

Despite the long span of time she had been able to spend with him, Carol never seemed to feel as though she really did know Daryl at all. He wasn't much of a talker, yet actions always spoke louder than words, and in Daryl's case only seemed to contribute to the enigma she saw him as. Here he was, a man she had come to see as the strongest of warriors skilled with any weapon, be it bow, gun, or knife, with only the gentlest of touches when it came to a baby. Almost as though he had prior experience with infants before…

Carol wasn't one to give into temptation so easily. The fact that she had yet to tackle, rip off all the clothes, and have her way with Daryl Dixon only proved this point. However, even the strongest of wills bow to temptation. In this particular instance it was hardly appropriate to pounce on the man, so she took the next best thing she could: a piece of the mystery.

"You know, I've been meaning to ask you this for a while…" She began tentatively as she measured out the water to pour. She kept her tone as casual as possible in an effort to keep the conversation light and easy. The man could face off a herd of walkers single-handedly without flinching but fled at the slightest hint of a serious, personal conversation. "You're really good with Judith. Have been since Day One. Almost like you've had prior experience with a baby…"

He replied with a snorted laugh, breaking eye contact with Carol, to glance down at Judith. Two of his fingers took up her hand, holding it and marveling at the smoothness and size of the infant's palm. "I ain't never had no kids if that's what you're fixin' towards. Closest thing I had to that was maybe a puppy. Damn thing ran away not long after I got it though." He kept his tone light, in a near attempt at humor. He wasn't fooling anyone though. Carol may know little of Daryl's past but she knew enough of his nature to know there was more to the story than he was offering. She waited patiently in reply, shaking the bottle.

Sure enough, after a moment of hesitant silence he ventured onward.

"My Ma died back when I was seven. Smoked herself to death, like I told ya. 'Fore that though, my old man managed to knock her up one more time. A Dixon girl, this time around; Crystalynn." a soft smile appeared on his face as he uttered the name of his sibling.

Carol paused mid-shake, glancing in surprise. "You had a baby sister?"

"Did. Long time ago. Ain't never made it passed diapers 'fore she died."

Slowly, Carol placed the bottle down, keeping her eyes on Daryl. She watched his eyes darkening as he seemed to be delving further into the memory.

"She was sickly thing. Ain't too surprising considering Ma smoked like a damn chimney and drank like a fuckin sailor at port when she was knocked up. Lynn cried nonstop, couldn't keep nuthin down whenever she was fed. Really pissed off the old man and wore out Ma. Ma couldn't keep her quiet, and that'd piss the hell outta him." Daryl's jaw tensed up as he spoke, emotion catching in his throat as his mind delved further and further down to memories that had, prior to know, been buried for decades.

"Merle'd take care of her, though. I'd help however I could, but a five year old ain't exactly stellar babysittin material. It was hard, but we'd get her. She'd calm right down when we held her and be off to sleep. Worked out just fine, til Merle went and got himself shipped to a stint at juvie…

"Shit, I'd try so damn hard, helpin Ma with Lynn, best as I can, but nuthin worked. Day in, day out she'd cry like the world was endin. One night, shit just all hit the roof. Lynn just wouldn't settle down. The ole man was pissed and stormed the hell outta there, Ma was sobbin and drinkin', thinkin' he done left for good, and I… I gave up. Went ta my room without another thought and ignored it all, tryin' ta get some sleep. Next thing I know I hear a thud. Lynn ain't cryin no more, but Ma is. Sh-She fell." His head was kept down at this point and though he would never reveal them, Carol could only imagine his tears. She already heard them, drenched in his voice. "M-Ma'd decided to try one last time to rock her to sleep. She was so damn wasted though, she tripped and fell; straight on Lynnie. It was all over, j-just like that." He whispered softly, in a shaking voice. He sniffed loudly, blinking in an effort to erase any evidence of tears. He hadn't meant to go this far and was cursing himself for opening this door. He knew he shouldn't have done it, should've just left his answer to the damn puppy story.

While Daryl worked to conceal his tears, Carol's flowed freely down her face. She had no words for him that she could say; finding none that would adequately suit the situation. Although it meant much to her to have Daryl open up, a sharp, gnawing guilt devoured her for making him open this door. She should've left it alone. She shouldn't have indulged in a fishing expedition into his past. All she did was hurt him. "D-Daryl…" she breathed out, a hand reaching for him.

He turned his head away, hastily clearing his throat. "I-Is that bottle ready yet?"

Her hand dropped, returning to her side. Her other hand wandered to the bottle as she nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, the bottle's right here."

"Good. Here, ya can have the little ass kicker back. I gotta head off. Got watch in a few." He uttered, handing her the baby.

It was a flat out lie and both knew it since Daryl wasn't scheduled til at least noon, but Carol let it go. She knew he needed his space and time alone and complied. "Of course." She whispered, taking the baby. And without another word Daryl walked away, leaving a speechless Carol behind.

The next morning carried on as usual, without any semblance of last night coming between them. She brought up nothing from the previous night, much to his gratitude. The memory of that night, like many nights before, remained solely theirs; a brick in the special connection they had formed as people coming from troubled yesterdays, looking and fighting for better tomorrows. Together.