Disclaimer: I own, precisely, nothing except the general story idea. Everything else belongs to AMC, Kirkman and Gimple. Bastards.
Rating: M. Because I do violence and gore. Lots and lots of it.
Summary: With Daryl, Rick and Michonne AWOL and more people falling ill daily to the mystery virus spreading through the prison, Carol finds herself on a long-shot, desperate run for medical supplies to save her family while the rest of the world falls apart.
Spoilers: Episodes 4x01 - 4x02 serve as the basis for this story, but it goes AU awfully damned quick.
A/N: Hello, my wonderful darlings. IN NO WAY was I planning on starting another multi-chapter so soon after finishing 'Three Little Birds'. I was thinking drabbles, maybe a longer one-shot. Then this came into my brain and KAPOW! I think it was enhanced because I was in the hospital this week after having another surgery and literally had nothing else to do but work on this story and sleep the sleep of the highly drugged. So here we go, off on another adventure!
I should warn you that, while this does have lots of Caryl in it, this is a Carol story. Daryl, and therefore Caryl, is secondary to Carol and her adventure. Also, angst and lots of yearning, because I seem to write a lot of stories where Carol and Daryl are separated for horribly long periods of time. And the horror/suspense, did I mention that yet? Cause, let's face it, if you've ready anything else I've done, you know I have this tendency to kill people. I have issues. But I love you guys. Here we go again!
Prologue: Falling
It was turning out to be another blisteringly hot day. Carol figured it was barely past nine in the morning and the sweat was already running down her spine, soaking the back of her thin shirt as she made her way towards the watch tower. The burning off of the morning dew in the glare of the sun left a fine haze simmering over the grounds, making the wilted leftovers of their crops dance in Carol's vision. She paused outside the main door of A block and opened the door, just a crack, just enough to hear the lolling echoes of coughing and moaning from the sick people corralled inside. Its getting worse.
Carol shooked her head, gently closing the door again before making her way across the yard. Carl stood leaning against the railing with the long rifle cradled in his arms, looking more and more like Rick with every passing day. Carol stopped next to the ladder and looked up, shielding her eyes from the morning sun.
"Anything?" she called up to him.
Carl shook his head. "Nothing," he yelled back.
Carol sighed and nodded, waving at Carl in thanks as she went back towards C block.
"This is bad," she muttered to herself. "This is really, really bad."
The run should have been the simplest of things, but then wasn't that always the way? It was always their simple plans that fell apart on them. Michonne had spotted a small pharmacy in a part of town about 10 miles west of the prison. With more and more members of their community falling sick with the mystery illness every day, it was decided that Rick, Daryl and Michonne would go to the pharmacy to see what they could find. That had been two days ago. Two days and not a sign of them.
Carol found her fingers worrying the skin at the base of her throat, seeking comfort from an old cross necklace she'd long since discarded, tossed by the side of a lonely stretch of highway sometime after they'd left the farm. Old habits die hard, I guess. She stopped just outside the door, spying a tiny figure curled up near the fence. Lizzie. Carol placed a slender hand on the door and watched the girl watching the walkers shambling outside their home.
"She's been there for hours."
Carol jumped a foot in the air and spun to see Carl behind her, staring at Lizzie with a grim look on his face. He was almost as tall as Carol herself now and she realized she'd soon be looking up at Carl instead of just at him. Sneaky little ninja is getting as good creeping up on people as Daryl.
"She just... stares at them," Carl continued. "I think the only reason she doesn't talk to them anymore is because we keep telling her not to."
Carol nodded, turning to Lizzie again and feeling the tension stretch across her face. She worried about the girls as much as she worried about Daryl and that in itself was enough stress to break her some days. Carol felt tight beneath her skin, pulled in too many directions with too many problems and no way out.
"We'll figure it out," she said lamely, more to fill the space between herself and Carl then let it simmer any further with the boy's mistrust of the girl Carol had, for all intents and purposes, adopted. Carl just arched an eyebrow at her and she shrugged, not finding any strength to respond with any of her usual fire and determination this morning. Some of that must have filtered through to Carl because Carol suddenly found his arm thrown across her slender shoulders as he pulled her into a gently, oddly comforting one armed hug.
"We'll figure it out," Carl said softly as he gave her a crooked smile. Carol gave him a shaky smile as her heart swelled to bursting within her chest.
"I wish your mother was here to see you," she said suddenly. She reached out and tenderly brushed the bangs off Carl's forehead, smoothing his hair back as only a mother could.
"Me too," Carl said.
They stayed like that for a few moments, the silence between them comfortable despite the worry pouring off of them. Carol found her fingers at the hollow of her throat again. Stop it, girl. You haven't missed that cross in months. No reasons to start now. She could see Carl watching her from the corner of his eye, but just as his mouth opened the door beneath Carol's hand fell open and her hand landed squarely on Hershel's chest.
"Oh, good morning Hershel," she said automatically, a half smile forming on her lips as she glanced at the dark tan of her hand on the stark white of Hershel's shirt, already damp with sweat. It took her a moment to realize that the fluttering beneath her palm was coming from Hershel, his heart going faster than a hummingbird's wings, and that the dampness of his shirt wasn't from the sun, but the furnace burning inside Hershel himself. Carl's arm dropped from her shoulders as she finally registered the gasping breaths wheezing out of the old farmer and jerked her hand back, taking in his flushed, sweaty face just before Hershel collapsed at her feet. Oh shit.
Carol pinched the bridge of her nose between anxious fingers, trying to push back the headache screaming against her skull as she sat at the library table they used for council meetings. Except the council was smaller today; only five of them sat around the table. Herself, Sasha, Glenn, Tyreese and Bob.
"With Hershel down, we don't have many people with medical experience left outside of Dr. S," Bob said.
"And he needs to stay quarantined in A with the sick." Sasha picked up where Bob left off.
"That just leaves me and Carol," Bob continued.
"Including Hershel, how many more are sick?" Tyreese asked.
"Five new ones," Sasha replied.
"Six," Glenn said quietly. He glanced up as everyone's heads turned to him. "I... Maggie. I took her over to Dr. S early this morning. "
"Damn it," Carol whispered. She reached out and took Glenn's hand in hers, feeling him shake beneath her fingers. "It's going to be ok," she said in a louder voice. Glenn nodded slowly, his gaze back on the table.
"Not if it keeps spreading like this," Sasha said. "We have over twenty people quarantined in A block now and this thing keeps spreading. Rick, Daryl and Michonne were supposed to be back yesterday. That leaves the five of us, plus maybe ten more who aren't sick yet. Half of that are kids."
"Our best fighters are gone," Tyreese said morosely. "Our doctors are sick or stuck in quarantine treating the infected. If the fence falls or something else happens, we're dead here."
"They'll come back," Carol said firmly. "Daryl and the others. They'll come back."
There was a ringing silence after her words. Carol felt her heart sink under the hopelessness she could feel from her councilors around the table. Even Glenn seemed bowed under the weight of it.
"You don't know that," Sasha finally said quietly.
"I do," Carol insisted. "Daryl always comes back."
"Eventually," she heard Glenn mutter under his breath. She clenched her fingers hard around his hand, letting her nails dig into the skin for just a second. Don't even go there, Rhee.
"Always," Carol said again.
Sasha sighed and finally nodded her head. "Well, be that as it may they still aren't here. What the hell are we supposed to do?"
"We need medicine," Glenn said. "Stuff for blood transfusions, like Dr. S said."
"From where? None of us has any idea where that pharmacy Michonne mentioned is. She just said 'west'," Sasha said bitterly.
"There is... no," Bob said slowly. "Never mind."
"Any suggestions are welcomed," Carol said.
"It's a crazy idea," Bob replied. "It would never work."
"Just tell us," snapped Sasha.
"Fort Benning," Bob said with a sigh. A stunned silence filled the air after Bob's pronouncement.
Fort Benning. They'll have food, medical supplies, weapons. It's perfect for us.
It's 125 miles in the opposite direction!
Old voices warred in Carol's head, rehashing long ago arguments as she sank back into her chair with a groan. She chanced a glance at Glenn and saw him staring back at her, their faces reflecting similar emotions. If that's the best we can come up, we are rightly and truly fucked.
"I was stationed there before," Bob said patiently. "I know guys who would let us in."
"If there's anyone alive," Glenn cried. "Every military barricade we've ever come across was overrun with walkers. Why would Benning be any different?"
"I know where they keep the medical supplies," Bob replied.
"Fort Benning," Carol finally said in a flat voice. "You're all worried about Daryl and the rest when they went ten miles, and now you're telling us the next best idea is an army base eighty miles southwest of here?"
"What Carol said!" Glenn cried emphatically.
"OK, everybody stop." Tyreese finally rejoined the conversation. "Lets give them another day to get back."
"And then what?" Sasha asked angrily. "Talk some more?"
"Yes." Tyreese glared at his sister.
Carol walked slowly down the corridor from the library, Glenn's arm tucked in hers. He leaned his head on her shoulder as they walked, their steps falling in synch.
"We're descending into anarchy," Glenn said.
"I know," Carol replied.
"Fort Benning? If Rick, Daryl and Michonne can't make it ten miles how the name of God are we supposed to get to Fort freaking Benning?!"
"I know," Carol said again. She quickly wiped at her cheeks, brushing away the tears that lay traitor to her attempt to control her emotions. There was so much fear in the air now that she could nearly smell it. Fear of the illness, fear of the walkers. Fear for Daryl, Rick and Michonne. Fear that Lizzie was beyond saving, that Mika was going to lose her sister. Fear for Daryl, once again out beyond the relative safety of their fences, risking his life for them. Again. She ached, down to her very soul, and wondered if she'd ever be able to breathe normally again.
They walked in silence all the way back to C Block, Home of the Originals, as Maggie had taken to calling them. The Greenes, The Grimes, Daryl, Glenn and herself. Michonne was in C as well, lumped in as one of "them" in a way the rest of the Woodbury residents would never be. Now, Lizzie and Mika slept together in the top bunk above Carol, making her little cell very crowded. Carol and Glenn stopped outside the door to her cell. She gave him a quick hug, patting him in what she hoped was a reassuring way on his back.
"Maggie is going to be ok," she said. "We'll get all of this worked out."
"Thanks, sister," Glenn said quietly in her ear.
Carol gave Glenn an extra squeeze before releasing him with a smile, her first real one of the day. She turned to go into her cell, but stopped as Glenn's voice reached her.
"He sleeps outside your cell, you know."
"What?" Carol turned and raised a quizzical eyebrow at Glenn. He was leaning near the open door of his own cell, hands in his pockets and smiling at her ruefully.
"Daryl," he said.
"No he doesn't," Carol replied. "His cell is next door to mine, that's all."
"No." Glenn shook his head. "We both know Daryl almost never sleep these days, but when he does, he sleeps outside your cell. He just waits until you go to sleep and makes sure to get up before you do. I think the only one who hasn't caught him at it is you."
Carol blinked, speechless. Daryl sleeps outside my cell? The hell...?
"I-I..." Carol stuttered before trailing off, words failing her. Glenn's smile grew wider before he nodded to her and disappeared into his own cell. Carol was floored, her mind swirling with endless thoughts. Daryl has been sleeping outside my cell. How had she missed it? Always extra observant when it came to the quiet hunter, she wracked her brain, trying to find visual proof in her memories of Glenn's statement. She found nothing. It wasn't something Glenn would lie to her about though, especially now. Why did he tell me now?
Daryl sleeps outside my cell.
She knew she was blushing; she could feel the heat creeping up her cheeks and was fervently glad she was alone in the hallway. She bit her bottom lip, trying and failing to hold back a gleeful smile. Everybody's sick and I'm smiling because Daryl sleeps outside my cell. I need therapy. Or sex. Or possibly both.
Face still aflame, Carol stumbled into her cell, tripping over the girls' scattered clothes and blankets. She'd never dealt with messy children before. Sophia had a natural tendency to keep her things tidy, magnified by the fear of what a drunken Ed could do if he saw even one thing out of place. He'd never laid a hand on Sophia; Carol had seen to that, literally throwing herself into his path if she could see him even thinking about striking their child. It was my choice. I deserved every blow for staying with him for so long. She sighed and shook her head, banishing those thoughts for another day, another time. She knew they would creep back to her in the night. They always did.
Mika was curled up on the top bunk, still huddled in sleep beneath the thin blanket. Carol smiled and reached up to gently shake her awake. Mika had proved to be a long, heavy sleeper. Carol knew if she let her, Mika could sleep until lunch.
"Mika," she said softly. "Time to get up!"
Mika turned under Carol's touch and Carol's heart fell for the third time that morning. Mika looked as bad as Hershel had, red and sweating as her whole body shook under the thrall of a deep, hacking cough.
"I don't feel good," Mika moaned. "Can't I sleep a little longer?"
No. No no no. Nonono.
"Glenn," Carol cried. "GLENN!"
They were back in the library, the five of them. Carol's head was spinning; was it only an hour ago she and Glenn had left this room together? It felt like an eternity had passed since then; or maybe just five really frantic minutes. She couldn't tell anymore.
"Mika and 3 other children are sick now," Sasha said quietly. "We lost 4 from A Block this morning."
"Who?" Glenn asked.
"Mrs. Shepherd, her son Lyle, that kid Mike and Sarah,. She was from Woodbury," Sasha replied. "All within an hour of each other."
"Jesus Christ," Bob moaned, letting his head fall into his hands.
Carol stroked the hollow of her throat with shaking fingers, her old habit quickly becoming her new nervous tick. It irked her, making her shudder briefly with annoyance, and she deliberately ran her fingers up her neck to settle firmly at her lips instead.
"Dr. S is sick now too." Sasha looked around the room as she dropped her last bombshell. "We have to do something. We can't just sit here."
Carol looked at Glenn, the face she'd known the longest. He was staring back at her with an agonized expression. She knew what he was asking her, what he was hating himself for asking, as he silently begged her to stay and to go at the same time. She knew he'd never leave Maggie, not with Hershel down too. Could she leave Mika and Lizzie, as good as her own children at this point? She'd known, when Ryan asked her to guard his girls like they were her own, that she would commit to them completely and she'd done exactly that. She was harder with them than she'd ever been with Sophia, determined not to repeat her past mistakes and lose another child. Could she do this, though? Mika quarantined in A Block and Lizzie more obsessed with her pet zombies than with the living, half her family ill and the other half missing for days.
Daryl would be furious with her if he had an inkling of the ludicrous plan she was thinking of. This kind of thing needed planning, time to prepare, gather the necessary plans for survival, a team. They had none of that left. There were barely enough people left uninfected to defend the fence against the walkers. He'd fight with her endlessly on whether or not she'd be going and in the end would only conceed to let her go if he went with her. She'd been on exactly two runs since they came to the prison, both within five miles of the prison and both with Daryl. This was not her area of post-apocalyptic expertise.
Tyreese, Sasha and Bob were shouting back and forth, their voices loud in the small space as she and Glenn looked at each other and spoke silently in a way only blood brothers forged in battle could. Years of fighting, of surviving together had bonded them and most of her family could converse with just a few looks.
If it was me, Daryl would go.
"You'll take care of the girls for me?" Carol finally asked out loud, bringing the shouting to a halt. Glenn nodded sadly, his eyes shiny with unshed tears.
"Of course I will," he replied.
"All right then." Carol turned to the rest of the group and nodded at Bob. "Then I'll go to Fort Benning with you."