The whistle of the gentle summer breeze seemed to mock him as he stood, a lone creature in a dead world. The road underneath his feet stretched mile after endless mile and beckoned a safe passage home, but Rick couldn't bring himself to move. What right did he have to go back to the place where his loved ones were if he had just forbidden someone to do the very same? Yes, Carol was at fault, but that didn't excuse him for playing the role of judge, jury and executioner. What would the others say?
He had acted out of love, not hate. Surely, she must have seen that. When word got out, Carol's life would be under a constant threat of being extinguished at the hands of Tyreese or any other madman who vowed to avenge the deaths of Karen and David. The woman had been one of his closest friends in the past year and a half since the powers that be led him to his family and to what, at the time, seemed like salvation in the little band of misfits. To him, she was a symbol of perseverance, someone who always found a way to make the best of a shitty situation even when it seemed like the proverbial shit rained from the sky. Somewhere down the road, her greatest asset had become the thing that would ultimately lead to her demise.
"It's me…"
The signs had been there for a while, but he was blind to their presence. He had favored the comfort of friendship and family over the unrelenting truth that ridiculed his every action, and now he was suffering for it. The world could be vindictive in a million ways before it could be kind.
Rick didn't know when he had gotten in the car, but he found himself behind the wheel with his somber gaze fixated on the faded yellow lines on the road. Paying no mind to the traffic laws of the old days, he zipped around at high speeds, listening to the sound of the tires screech against the pavement. Driving like this was reckless, he knew; he needed a distraction after the taxing day he had had. A brief thought was for Carol, as he imagined her driving in the opposite direction with tears in her eyes and a pain in her heart that she had inadvertently caused. Was Rick right to send her away when she had behaved altruistically? Every bone in his body shook with the belief that he was justified.
When he was safe within the confines of the prison, the others were scattered and battling the menacing flu in different ways. The first person he had the time to tell was Maggie, who simply accepted his decision without another word. The next person was Hershel, the old man whose perspicuity and astuteness was desperately needed. The amputee had also agreed with Rick's decision, but there was noticeable hurt that swam in his cobalt eyes upon hearing the news and the man had rushed out of the room in a few quick strides.
Everyone else in their little inner circle had been briefed on the incident before Daryl. Truth be told, Rick was afraid to tell him out of fear of what the hunter would do. There was no denying the strong bond between the pair-the subtle glances and flirty words were hard to ignore-and the recent disappearance of his best friend would no doubt strain the relationship between him and Rick. His prediction had been unfortunately correct as the two fell into a heated argument flooded with colorful expletives and a punch or two before Daryl stalked off, promising himself that he wouldn't do it "for her sake." The next day, Rick found the library in shambles: Books had been thrown off the shelves, chairs were overturned and the wood of the large table had been splintered. The room looked like a FEMA disaster site and he chalked the crime scene off as Daryl's doing. The man had vanished into thin air, his current whereabouts unknown to anyone. The idea that he had run off to find her plagued Rick's mind until Daryl had shown up a few days later, considerably stressed but with a few fresh kills at his side and a reassurance that he was here to stay. While he, unsurprisingly, detached himself from the man he had once called friend, there was an obligation to the group that he wouldn't abandon, no matter how much he cared for her.
Her.
It had gotten the point where no one could say her name now without there being discordance in the air. There was not so much as a whisper of a memory where her smile set the sky aflame or her words relieved a burden on someone shoulders. The idea of not knowing if she was alive or dead had taken its toll on everyone and none more so than Rick. Truth be told, he missed the hell out of her but he would never admit it aloud. Especially since he had been the one to sentence her to a life of solitude in the first place. One day he found himself in her cell. Her room was left untouched, her things in the same place they had been a month ago, as if Carol was gone for a simple moment. An old picture of Sophia still sat in its place on the nightstand, weeks of dust collecting on the elegant frame decorated with jeweled flowers that glittered in the sun's delicate rays. Beside the photo was a crude drawing made by one of the Woodbury kids that depicted an orange sun smiling down on a family of stick figures with the words "To Miss Carol" etched in green crayon. A rather cliché drawing, but it made Rick smile all the same. Several Polaroids taken from a camera that Glenn had found on a run one time plastered the wall, each one a unique still of Carol's life in the past few months. There was a space on the wall between two candid shots of Beth and Maggie that lacked a picture. He wondered if it had fallen of the wall, or if someone had taken it down for some unidentified reason. A nagging thought pushed into his head that Daryl was responsible for it being missing.
Despite the homely feel of the area, there was something eerie that lurked in the air. This felt like an intrusion into someone's private life, yet it also felt like he was visiting a carefully preserved graveyard. An book was leaning on a pillow, still open to the next chapter which Rick could see was titled "The White Rose With the Black Ribbon." She never got to the end of the story, to find out what happened to her favorite character and to either be happy or upset about his/her fate. Now she was a lost book to him, never able to continue the story without him there to turn the pages. He would never know the rest of her story, if her future would be desirable or not because he had been careless enough to lose the whole thing, front to cover.
Disgusted with himself, he turned to leave the room. Sparing it one final glance, he slid through the pink curtain and watched it fall in front of him, almost as if it was bandaging a wound that would never be healed or shielding innocent eyes from a past that needed to be forgotten.
The place was either a museum or a mausoleum. Rick couldn't decide.
a/n: and that's that...i wanted to convey rick's inner conflicts when it came to carol while also showing that his actions weren't out of hate but of love for her because he knows she'd be better off leaving. yet at the same time, he feels like he's sentenced her to die alone in the wilderness. rick's a very complicated character, often doing things that contradict each other and i wanted to represent that as best as i could. i hope you liked it and i really appreciate reviews!