Round in Circles

It was hard not to look at Carl and be reminded of Rory. They were about the same age. Their hair was almost the same shade of brown, and they both wore it in the same shaggy style due to the lack of open barber shops. Carl's eyes were a slightly lighter shade of blue than Rory's had been but curiosity shimmered in them all the same. Willa felt intrinsically more comfortable around him than anyone else, probably because her constant companion through all the apocalyptic nonsense that had been thrown her way was somebody just like Carl. Hershel was very nice, as was T-Dog. Beth and Maggie seemed sweet enough, but Glenn still seemed a little tentative around Willa. Axel and Oscar kept to themselves and she hadn't seen much of Rick. Carl seemed to stick by her side though; funny how kids can sense things.

"You knew Daryl … before." he stated, tapping his fingers on the metal table top.

"Yeah," Willa replied, not making eye contact.

"How do you know him? Were you, like, together?" a playful grin danced on Carl's lips, "Because I really can't imagine Daryl with a girlfriend."

"It's complicated," she shrugged.

She kept staring at the same spot where Daryl had disappeared into the woods earlier, waiting for him to reappear. Carl was quiet, only tapping his fingers occasionally, and keeping his eyes trained on the same spot. Willa thought about divulging her relationship with Daryl to Carl but ultimately she decided against it. It was an awfully long story to tell and not always appropriate for young ears. No, he'd just have to live with his curiosity. A long while passed in a comfortable quiet before a the sound of a twig snapping caught Willa's attention. It was just a geek, and it was walking back toward the forest so neither Carl nor Willa made a move.

"Well I got plenty of time," Carl looked up at her, "if you want to elaborate on that at all. You don't have to but I am a really good listener, so you know."

"Thanks," Willa smiled, "Maybe sometime I'll take you up on that offer, but not right now."

Carl nodded in understanding and turned his attention back to the tree line. Willa sighed heavily and did the same. They sat quietly a while longer before the creak of the door caught their attention. Maggie was running toward them, a wide smile pasted to her pale face. Carl stood up as Maggie approached them. She panted for moment, catching her breath before speaking.

"Daryl found Carol!" she announced jovially, "She's alive!"

"Daryl's back?" Willa questioned, wondering how he'd slipped back into the prison without her knowing.

"Yeah, come on," Maggie urged them.

The three entered the cell block together. Maggie led Carl to the cell where Carol was resting. Willa had no idea who Carol was and was more concerned with Daryl. She scanned the cell block but didn't see him. Glenn was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face which Willa chose to ignore. There was a scuffling noise which seemed to come from above her so Willa looked up. Daryl was on the perch, cleaning his crossbow. His eyes met hers for a moment but Daryl quickly returned his attention to his bow. Willa was tempted to call out to him, but Glenn cleared his throat loudly.

"Rick might have given you the okay, but Rick is slipping. I don't trust you. I don't think you should stay and I'm going to tell him that," he said evenly.

"Glenn," Herschel cut in calmly, "I agree that this is something that requires further discussion but right now is not the time. Right now just be happy that Carol has been found."

"Don' need no discussion," Daryl had managed to pad down the stairs unnoticed, "Willa Mae is stayin'."

"Daryl!" he had turned his back already, but Willa called after him.

"Not now," he called over his shoulder and disappeared around the corner.

Glenn was still glaring. Herschel hobbled back to Carol's cell to tend to her at the same time that Carl zipped out. He smiled in Willa's direction and wandered off to find Beth and Judith. Maggie had reappeared at some point as well and was whispering something to Glenn, which seemed to relax him. Then she made her way over to Willa and motioned toward the door.

"Come on," she said, "Let's check the fences. Got your knife?"

"Always," Willa nodded, and followed Maggie.

At first they didn't speak, merely walked the perimeter of the prison, taking out a few walkers that had found their way to the fences. After a while, Maggie turned to face Willa. She was smiling, which Willa took as a good sign.

"Rick won't make you leave," she said, "Not if Daryl says you're staying. Glenn's just being careful."

"I understand," Willa stuck her knife through the side of one of the walkers' heads, "No such thing as being too careful anymore."

"What's the deal with you and Daryl anyway?" Maggie asked, pulling her knife out of the walker she'd just buried it in, "You obviously know each other and the fact that he wants you to stay speaks volumes. He wouldn't do that for just anyone."

"I know," Willa wiped the sweat from her brow, "Daryl and I go way back."

"Were you guys … together?" Maggie's eyebrows wiggled as she spoke.

"Long story," Willa said, the ghost of a smile gracing her lips.

"So start at the beginning," Maggie suggested, "I find that's usually the best place to start."

Willa closed her eyes. She drew in a deep breath and tried to recall every detail of the dive bar in which she had first laid eyes on Daryl Dixon.

The lights were dim. A thick layer of dirt seemed to cover every surface in the small building. Willa and two of her friends were perched on stools at the end of the bar. The small girl was sipping on her third vodka and tonic, she'd downed the first two and she was so wasted the room was spinning. Claire and Jeanne were not as brave and were sticking to beer. The three giggled together in their drunken stupor and decided to start a game of truth or dare. As Jeanne began to give Claire a dare, the bell above the door jingled.

Willa turned at the noise and sucked in a breath. The room stopped spinning. He had the most dazzling blue eyes she'd ever seen. For a minute it felt like the rest of the world had faded away and they were the only two who existed. She took him in; his messy brown hair, the way his biceps bulged out of his sleeveless flannel button-up, the lost look in those magnificent ocean blue eyes. He said something to the man he'd com in with and they parted ways. The older man headed for the pool table, while the younger took a seat at the opposite end of the bar from Willa.

"Girl, you payin' attention?" Claire's voice pulled Willa from her reverie.

"S-Sorry," she slurred, "What's goin' on?"

"Your turn," Jeanne laughed, "Truth or dare?"

She watched him order a shot of whiskey and breathed out, "Dare."

"I dare you to go home with him," Jeanne grinned wickedly.

"Who?" Willa was still staring at him.

"That guy you can't take your eyes off'a," Claire pointed at him, which didn't go unnoticed.

"'Kay," Willa shrugged and stumbled off the barstool.

She took a few unsure steps before hoisting herself up into the empty barstool next to him. He turned his head to look at her and then jerked back, awkwardly facing front again. Willa ordered another vodka and tonic, although she was already more than sufficiently drunk. He could tell by the way she was swaying slightly. She took a big gulp when the barkeep handed her a glass and then turned to the man that had her transfixed since his arrival.

"You gotta name?" she asked.

"Daryl," he replied.

"Name's Willa Mae," she smiled and he blushed, "Wanna ge' outta here?"

"I jus' go' here, Willa Mae," Daryl said softly, returning her smile.

"Come on," her head was buzzing as she placed her hand on his thigh, "I'll show you a real good time."

He seemed nervous as he put his hand over hers and looked over at the pool table for a moment before turning back to Willa, "I 'spose Merle can fin' his own way back. Always does. Le's go."

A shock of electricity ran up her arm from the spot where his hand had touched hers. She teetered precariously as she dismounted the barstool and Daryl put his arm around her waist to steady her, sending butterflies rampaging through her stomach. He took her to a beat up truck outside and opened the passenger's side door for her. She laughed, said something about being the perfect gentleman that was hard to understand through the slur of alcohol, and clambered inside. Daryl watched her, a goofy grin taking up residence on his face before slamming the door shut. By the time he had rounded the back of the truck and opened his own door Willa had already scuttled over the center console. She grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled his face to hers, crashing her lips hungrily into his.

"I ain't doin' ya in the truck," he laughed, pulling away and twisting the key in the ignition.

"Fair 'nuff," she shrugged.

It was a ten minute drive from the bar to Daryl's apartment. It was a pretty shabby looking building, but Willa wasn't paying attention to her surroundings at all and couldn't have cared less. All she could see was Daryl. He opened the truck door for her and she practically fell into his arms, dissolving into a fit of giggles. Daryl cocked an eyebrow at her and smiled. He led her down the hallway by the hand, stopping in front of a door with a fist-sized dent in it. He fumbled with keys a minute and Willa's patience wavered. With both hands on his chest she pushed him against the door, catching his lips in a needy kiss. His fingers became tangled in her hair as he nipped at her neck. She moaned softly and Daryl pulled away.

"Ain't doin' ya in the hallway neither," he said, opening the door.

There were dishes piled high in the sink and random articles of dirty clothing scattered around the floor. Sober Willa would have had something to say about it but drunk Willa was only concerned with the location of the bed and the removal of Daryl's clothing and he seemed to be perfectly fine with that. She undid the buttons on his shirt with unsteady fingers and watched admiringly as he shrugged it off and unbuckled his belt. Her hands found their way to his hips and slid his jeans down until they hit the floor. Daryl's hand snaked around her waist, pulling her into him as his lips found hers. He pulled her t-shirt over her head, stopping the kiss only long enough for the flimsy material to be out of the way. He unclasped her bra with expert precision and grinned in delight as it fell away. He felt her shiver as he ran his thumb over her newly exposed nipple and he loved the little gasp that escaped her lips as he took it in his mouth.

He was greedy though, he wanted more. He wanted it all. Daryl pushed Willa gently down on to the bed and unbuttoned her jeans, slowly pulling them down and savoring the longing glint in her chocolate brown eyes. As he tossed the jeans aside something slid from the pocket and fell onto the mattress a split second before Willa's pants fell to the floor. At first Daryl thought it was Willa's drivers license and moved his hand brush it away but two words in bold blue lettering caught his eye. He pulled back so suddenly Willa gasped at the loss of contact and her eyes swirled with confusion.

"The fuck is this?" Daryl bellowed, throwing the little plastic card in Willa's face.

"N-nothing," she whispered, turning the card over to the blank backside.

"Oh yeah?" he grabbed it back and began to read it aloud, "Willa Mae Haywood, Grade 11, Lee High School. How the fuck you get in a bar with this?"

"Joe never cards no one," she hiccupped as tears trickled out of the corners of her eyes.

"Don' fuckin' cry," Daryl groaned as he put his pants back on, "Please don' cry. I can't handle cryin'."

"I'm sorry," Willa wiped furiously at the tears that kept falling, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Suddenly she shot up, a hand flying to cover her mouth. She ran to the bathroom and slumped in front of the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl. She let out a whimper and then felt Daryl's warmth behind her. He was holding her hair and rubbing soothing circles on her back. Her stomach erupted again and this time when she stopped heaving, she knew it was for good. There was nothing left to throw up. Daryl seemed to know this and wiped her face with a piece of toilet paper he'd torn from the roll on the counter before helping Willa to her feet.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, leaning into him, "I'm sorry. I'll just find my way home now."

"NO," Daryl growled and felt Willa shudder In his arms, so he spoke softer, "Ya ain't fit to go nowhere by ya self. Sleep it off, ya can go wherever ya want in the mornin'."

She let him lead her back to the bedroom and force her t-shirt back over her head. Willa found herself snuggling up to the pillow and her eyelids growing heavy. She wanted to apologize again but she was too tired to make her mouth move so she simply sighed softly instead. As the dingy room faded and darkness overtook her, Willa could have sworn she felt Daryl's hand gently stroking her hair. Maybe she was already dreaming.

When she awoke the apartment was silent and she was alone on the bed. Her pants, which Daryl hadn't bothered to put back on her, were folded on a chair in the corner. She slipped them on and padded out into the living room. Daryl was asleep on the couch, snoring quietly. Willa smiled, without a drunken fog surrounding her mind, he seemed even more exquisite. She couldn't bare to wake him, and didn't know what on earth to say to him anyways, so she just left.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Maggie's eyes were wide, "You were only a junior? How old was Daryl?"

"Twenty five," Willa shrugged, "I was sixteen. I wasn't a good kid. Hangin' out with the wrong crowd, always gettin' into trouble. And Daryl was trouble, believe you me."

"Well obviously you ran into him again, right?" Maggie pushed.

"That's another story for another time," Willa said and Maggie could tell she wasn't going to get any farther.

They went back to the cell block, hoping there was something other than beans for dinner only to be disappointed. Carl sat next to Willa and dug into his beans with gusto. Daryl sat on the other end of the table, poking at his beans with a scowl on his face and avoiding Willa's pleading looks. Rick appeared only after everyone had pretty much finished. Glenn left Maggie's side to go to Rick's and whisper something in his ear. Willa knew what he was saying even without reading his lips.

"We need to go on a run tomorrow," Rick announced, "We're almost out of baby formula. Glenn has volunteered himself and Maggie. Willa, you're going too."

"We don't know if we can trust her," Glenn protested, "What if something happens while we're out?"

"No better way to prove herself than in action," Rick shrugged and walked away again.

Glenn walked back to his and Maggie's cell in a huff, and Maggie smiled apologetically at Willa before following him. Daryl followed too.

"Ya don't quit talkin' ugly 'bout Willa Mae, we gonna have a problem," Daryl warned, his voice low and gravelly.

He didn't wait for Glenn to reply. Daryl swiftly made his way back to the perch and shuffled around, readying himself to go to bed. He heard Willa padding up the stairs and turned to face her. She didn't say anything. Daryl sat on his mattress and fluffed up his thin blanket. Willa just watched.

"Well?" Daryl looked up at her expectantly.

"We don't have to talk," she said quietly, "I know you don't want to. I just, I thought maybe …"

"Get in 'fore I change my mind," he mumbled, and moved over to one side.

Willa kicked off her boots and lay down next to Daryl. She didn't know how close he'd let her get and she didn't want to push her luck so she left as much space between them as she could and closed her eyes. She heard Daryl exhale loudly and felt his arm snake around her waist. He pulled her close to him, so there was no space left between them at all, and held her all night long.