She shouldn't have brought him to this place. It held too many memories that she had tried to forget since she had put a pickaxe through her dead husband's skull, since she had seen a walker wearing her girl's face come stumbling out of Hershel's barn. She had tried to push it all away when for the first time since she had said 'I do' she had been happy, no longer afraid of every sound in the dark or raised voices. She could walk with her head held high and a smile on her face because she knew she was strong.
This place, with its bunk beds, second-hand toys and books about how to deal with abuse, it dragged the memories back up. If she closed her eyes, Carol could see Ed's face again, feel the bruises, the cigarette burns and the broken bones, she could taste the blood in her mouth. Being back here made her see that even though Ed was long gone and her life before the walkers seemed nothing more than a distance memory, she would always carry his abuse with her. It was never going to go away.
Everything about this place made her think about Sophia, from the pink bedspread to the walkers still locked in a room. A mother and her daughter. Fate was a cruel mistress indeed. And now she was standing by the window again, staring into nothingness, images of Lizzie, Mika, Sophia, Karen and David flashing through her mind. All innocent people, all in some way dead because of her.
She should have left the group when she had the chance.
She wasn't like any of them anymore. She didn't want to drink and laugh and go to Washington on a sliver of hope. She had no hope anymore. She just didn't want to die and that was good enough. It had to be. Everything else had simply been burned away. She was just a shell and on the inside she was nothing but ashes and dust and blood.
Behind her, Carol could hear Daryl shuffling back into the room, could feel him watching her and as much as she knew he wanted her to turn around and tell him that she was fine. She just couldn't find the strength to make it sound convincing. Instead she simply kept staring out the window, waiting for him to go to bed. She could take out the walkers then. She wasn't going to sleep a lot. She hadn't since she had been kicked out by Rick and it had only gotten worse after the girls.
God, the girls. She hadn't been able to tell anyone of the group, now with Tyreese there. It would have broken him if she had. If she wanted to, she could tell Daryl right now, have it out in the open, get if off her chest and give him a reason to leave her. He could handle her killing Karen and David, because they both knew she had done it for the good the of the group, but not being able to protect Mika, shooting Lizzie, he wouldn't forgive her for that. None of them would. She couldn't even forgive herself even though she knew it had been the right choice, the only choice.
Carol tensed when seemingly out of nowhere Daryl's hands came to rest upon her shoulders, very lightly at first, giving her chance to step away from him, but Carol decided to relax instead. She wasn't sure what he was doing, but it felt good just to have him touch her.
"Don't leave," Daryl whispered, his fingers gently squeezing her shoulders, a move that left her uncertain as to whom he was trying to reassure. He was either telling her he was here for her or he was trying to confirm that she was in fact still here and not running off again. Maybe it was both. She took a deep breath and almost leaned back against his chest, yearning to feel something solid supporting her, but she stopped herself. That wasn't who they were, not anymore.
"I'm here. I'm not running," she replied, maybe a bit unnecessarily. Surely he knew by now that she was going to stay with him, at least until they found Beth. After they succeeded, well, she didn't know yet. She would probably leave. She didn't see any other option. Daryl's hands slid down from her shoulders and slipped around her waist, gently pulling her against him and Carol let him. As much as she didn't want to, she liked it.
"Not what I meant," Daryl grumbled into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. Carol froze for a moment. He knew she had been contemplating the past, lost in distant memories, knew she was trying to shoulder the guilt all by herself, and worst of all he knew she was planning on leaving, not now, but one day she would and she wasn't ever coming back then. He knew and he was trying to tell her that he didn't want her to go.
Slowly she exhaled and put her hands on his forearms, feeling the warmth of his skin, the muscles underneath it. Like this, she could actually feel safe, she could allow herself not be scared and feel less like she was cold-blooded killer and more like she was a person who was allowed to make mistakes. Daryl had always had that talent, even when he had barely known her name, he had always made her feel like she mattered, just like she had done for him for a long time.
"I won't leave you," she said, trying to believe her own words. Daryl gave a soft hum as a reply that didn't betray whether he believed her, but Carol could feel some of the tension leave his body. He trusted her.
If they were other people, she would have turned around in his arms and kissed him until the fear left his eyes, but she couldn't. That wasn't them. There was too much still unspoken that needed to be said, too much still to be done before they could cross that bridge, if they ever were going to cross that bridge. Before the sickness had taken a hold of the prison it had seemed to so likely to happen, but now she just didn't know anymore.
"Get some sleep. Got a long day ahead of us." Sleep. It seemed such a foreign concept to her. She hadn't slept properly since she left the prison. It had only gotten worse after the girls. It was why she had insisted on taking the first watch, so he wouldn't notice that she slept only a few hours every night and that she was plagued by nightmares. She knew him well enough to know that he was going to worry if he found out.
The exhaustion, however, was weighing down on her and lying down on an honest to God mattress and not some poor substitute was too good to pass up. Even if she weren't going to sleep, just getting some rest sounded good. This day had been so goddamn tiring and not just physically either. She felt like she had been put through the wringer emotionally. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and nodded in acquiescence.
"Okay," she mumbled. "Let's sleep."
Her breath hitched when Daryl turned his head and pressed a soft, quick kiss to her temple. She had done the same to him once before she had told him he was a good man. Carol had no idea if he were trying to say the same thing, but this small gesture, it meant so much.
Daryl released her and she turned around. She had expected him to look embarrassed or at least a bit sheepish, but instead she was met with a barely there smile and a hint of worry in his eyes. She wished she knew how to assuage his concern. Maybe tomorrow would be better, when they were both distracted with making their way through Atlanta and were not free to succumb to feelings of guilt and regret.
Tomorrow would be better.