Disclaimer: I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: This is response will for the USS Caryl's "What if" Challenge on tumblr regarding the following prompt: "What if Daryl hadn't returned with Merle to the prison near the end of season three? Do you think Carol and Axel might have had a chance at pursuing a romantic relationship?" - As requested by Fairiesmasquerade.
Warnings: Contains spoilers for all three seasons of the Walking Dead, specifically season three. Also contains a big divergence from canon circa season three.
A Friend at the End of the World
It had been a week since Daryl had left.
And somehow, they were all still in one piece. If Daryl had been the glue that'd been keeping them together then he'd left a lasting legacy. When push came to shove, they could take care of themselves; he'd made sure of that. She knew he wouldn't have left otherwise.
Because as much as she wished she didn't, she did understand. She knew why he'd left, why he'd had to leave. She knew the reasoning behind his decision and the morality that lurked behind it. Daryl hadn't wanted to leave, but he had; for Merle, for the love of a brother. Of course, that knowledge didn't make his decision to leave hurt any less. It just made it easier to justify when she tried to explain it to the others.
She tried not to be bitter. She didn't always succeed, but she figured it was a start.
The whole thing reminded her of something she'd heard once. Perhaps she'd read it in a book or heard it on one of those movies Ed had always seemed to have on in the evenings. One day, you'll just be a memory. So do your best to be a good one.
Axel, Glenn and Maggie were busy cleaning up the yard, setting up defenses and building up the barricades as they made ready for war. No one was talking about the hole Daryl had left, both emotional and physical. No one was talking about how nothing felt right, about how Rick was devolving, breaking apart right in front of their eyes and that no one knew how to stop it. No one talked about how Daryl's things were still spread around half the prison, a dirty shirt here, an empty sheath there. No one had the heart to gather them up and put them away. Not yet anyway.
That wound was still too new.
But they were resilient. They would heal. Even from this.
A loud peel of laughter rose up from somewhere behind her, rough, easy, and just unfamiliar enough that she knew who it was by default. She wasn't sure what was going on behind her, but it was apparent that at least someone was having a good time.
She stretched, turning around in her seat at the folding table, making use of the sunshine as she cleaned her Glock. Judith was squirming, burbling happily to herself in her file-box crib set up in the shade at her feet, entertaining herself for once as she blew spit bubbles at her reflection in the dented metal.
She shaded her eyes as Axel straightened, his black jumpsuit providing a stark profile despite the distance, highlighting the light corn silk-gold of his hair as the harsh Georgian sun made its presence known. And almost as if the man sensed her scrutiny, he looked up - catching her in the act as the others carried on around them, oblivious to the centrality of the moment.
The moment held, stalling on the plane between discomfort and serenity before Axel finally smiled, the corners of his lips lifting upwards as the expression went all the way to his eyes. His fingers wriggled in a jaunty little wave as Rick and Beth started across the yard behind him, lugging a heavy cabinet to help shore up the barricades.
And for reasons beyond her, she found herself smiling back.
She could use a friend after all.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed, I have been meaning to write an Axel story for quite a while and this prompt provided me the perfect opportunity.