Carol took a step backward the world was suddenly falling away beneath her feet. She was grasping for Daryl who managed to wrap his arm around her waist, but instead of pulling her up, he lost his footing and she pulled him down. He held her tight to him in the fall as he scraped down the wall of the pit. This act shielded Carol from the brunt of the impact as she landed on top of him. Her boot jammed between his leg and the wall of whatever they had fallen into, and almost brought tears to her eyes.
She said, "Are you okay?"
Daryl didn't respond. He was knocked unconscious on impact.
"Daryl!" she said, panicking, "Daryl?"
He opened his eyes and groaned. Pain surged through his back and neck. His head was throbbing, and his shoulder felt like it was on fire. Carol scrambled off of him wincing because of her ankle. She put her hand to his cheek, not sure what to do, "Are you okay?"
"Fuck," Daryl gasped, "Wind knocked outta me, what happened?
"I don't know," Carol said. What she did know was that they were running form a large group of walkers, and had finally gotten clear of them. She had turned to say something to Daryl and the ground broke beneath her feet, "Possibly a trap?"
Daryl whimpered.
Carol was very worried. She was not sure how bad Daryl's injuries were, and she was not sure she would even be able to put pressure on her ankle to stand. The pit was too deep to be able to get out of. The walls felt like they were closing in on her. She was very claustrophobic, "How will we get out of here?"
Daryl said, "Just let me think. Gimme a minute."
Carol tried to stay calm, to think of an idea, as Daryl gingerly sat up, grimacing in pain. He leaned against the wall. Even though the sky was bright grey twilight above them the amount of light that reached to the bottom of the pit was limited, and it was not easy to see him.
"We're fucked," Daryl groaned, looking up the walls.
Tears started running down Carol's face. She was trying not to let the fear get the better of her but the thought of dying in this hole was too much. She had always hated the idea of tight spaces, and already horrible thoughts were racing through here head. They would run out of water very quickly, and no one knew where they were.
Daryl squinted at her, and softened his voice, "Don't cry. We'll figure it out."
Carol thought of something, "What if they fall in on us?"
Daryl thought about the walker herd they'd outrun, "Guess that means we can't call for help. Let's just hope that doesn't happen. Keep yer knife ready, in case."
Carol placed her trembling hand on her knife. She couldn't seem to stop her mind. Her eyes were adjusting to the dimness and she could see Daryl now more clearly. He was rubbing his temples in frustration or pain, she wasn't sure which.
Daryl had no idea what to do, and his shoulder was absolutely killing him. He must have scraped it up pretty badly on the way down because it burned fiercely. He reached around with his left hand and tentatively touched it, sucking in breath from the searing pain.
"What is it?" Carol asked, forgetting about the situation and focusing on him.
"My shoulder," Daryl said, "I think it might be cut pretty bad."
"Let me take a look at it," Carol said.
"Nah, nothing you can do for it, anyway," Daryl sighed.
Carol ignored him and moved towards him. She didn't have anything else to do and it took her mind off of everything. He flinched when she reached for him, but then relaxed and let her look. Carol could see he had a very bad friction burn that covered any part of his arm and shoulder that had not been protected by his vest. The shirt underneath was shredded and some of it was stuck in the wound.
"Yer not sayin' anything so it must be bad," Daryl mused.
"It's not good," Carol said, "But I think we won't have to amputate."
Daryl chuckled, and tried pulling his shoulder away.
"I have to get the pieces of fabric out of this before it scabs over," Carol said, "I'm sorry, it's going to hurt."
Daryl sighed, and relented.
"I'll be careful," Carol said, and tenderly began cleaning his would. Daryl set his jaw, and didn't say anything but she could feel how tense he was, and knew it was hurting him. She blew on his shoulder, "I'm sorry, I know it stings."
"It's fine," Daryl said through gritted teeth.
When she was done she sat back across from him and they stared at each other for a moment. Daryl grew uncomfortable and started looking up the walls for an escape. He had a couple of ideas but he wasn't feeling very up to trying them at the moment. "It's gonna be getting dark soon."
"Maybe Rick will come looking for us," Carol said hopefully.
Daryl didn't answer. He knew Rick definitely would not be coming looking for them tonight, but he didn't want Carol to lose hope. Carol attempted to stand, but was having trouble putting pressure on her bad ankle. Daryl furrowed his brow, "What's wrong?"
"My ankle."
"Fuck," Daryl growled, "Sit down, yer gonna hurt yerself more."
"Doesn't matter if we're dead," Carol said, fear creeping into her voice again.
"Don't talk like that," Daryl scolded, "what do you have on you?"
Carol sat down opened up her satchel that had been over her shoulder, and started pulling out items: 1 bottle of water, 1 bottle of tyenol, a bruised apple, safety pins, 2 pens, a pad of paper, and a gun. As Daryl watched the hope drained from him. Nothing was useful. She asked, "Where is your bag?"
"Not sure," Daryl admitted, "Don't matter, not like I had a ladder in it."
It made Carol laugh despite everything, "Oh this is so horrible, Daryl, after all we've been through what a way to go..." She handed him 3 Tylenols and the water bottle.
"Stop," Daryl said with an edge to his voice. How was he going to get them out of this hole, or worse what if whoever set this trap found them? He quickly took the medicine and closed up the water bottle. He definitely didn't want to go through their only water too quickly.
Carol sat nervously, and fiddled with her knife while Daryl rested. The sun started to disappear and it was getting darker. The more they lost light the more nervous Carol became. She cut the apple in half and handed off part of it to Daryl.
"Naw," He said refusing it, "I'm not gonna take half of yer sad damn apple."
She threw it at him, "Don't be ungrateful."
Daryl scowled at her but took it anyway.
"I hate small spaces," Carol said, "When I was a kid, I hated going into the confessional, because it was such a tight room. It was like they were trying to squeeze the confession from you."
Daryl laughed humorlessly, "I hated the confessional for other reasons."
"Yeah?" Carol asked, "What's the worst thing a harmless butterfly like you ever did?"
Daryl didn't respond, and they were quiet for a long time. Just when Carol thought he was not going to answer he said, "when I was a kid? or the worst thing I've done in my life?"
Carol felt like they might be walking into dangerous territory, and she went the safe route, "When you were a kid."
"Maybe I didn't do nothing bad when I was a kid, but I didn't do nothing good neither. I was always getting into some kind of trouble. Always runnin' away." Daryl paused, and took a bite of the apple, "Kid stuff, I guess."
Carol nodded, "Once I tried to run away. I had a tiny red suitcase and I packed it up full of all my clothes, and my favorite dolly, and I even left the house. But I wasn't allowed to go around the block or cross the street by myself so I just walked up and down the street until I got tired and went back home."
"You rebel," Daryl said with mock emphasis.
"I know," Carol said, "you're not the only badass here."
"I knew that was true already," Daryl admitted, "Yer tougher than me. I know it."
"Obviously," Carol said with a sheepish smile, rolling her eyes, and they fell silent again.
"The problem isn't always whacha do that makes ya a bad person, usually it's what ya don't do," Daryl said becoming surprisingly serious again, "The worst thing I did as a kid was not to stand up to my daddy."
"You were a kid," Carol reasoned, "You can't beat yourself up over that."
"Maybe," Daryl said, "But maybe things'd be different if I would've done somethin'"
Daryl looked away painfully, and didn't speak until it was almost too dark to see each other, "Listen, we will think of something, Try an rest."
Carol put her head down on her satchel bag and curled up into a little ball. Daryl rested his head on his arm and closed his eyes, letting the pain in his head take over for a minute. The Tylenol didn't help much. When he opened them he looked across to Carol who was shivering in the chill of the evening and had her face buried in the crook of her arm.
She was tiny with her knees to her chest, and he wished he had a blanket or something useful. He didn't even have a jacket with him.
"Carol," he said quietly. She lifted her head and when her eyes opened and he could see them sparkling with tears in the moonlight. He could barely make out much more of her, "Come 'ere."
Carol tipped her head questioningly.
"Yer freezing," Daryl said pragmatically, "Come lay by me."
Carol was surprised but she scooted over by him, and laid next to him awkwardly with her back to him. It was warmer, and it was dark enough so that she couldn't really see him but when she laid next to him she could feel him tense up.
After a moment he settled down next to her, resting his head back down, and then to her surprise he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer. He never said a word, and after a few minutes she could feel his breathing get easy, and knew he had fallen asleep.