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"The tragedy of life is not death but what we let die inside of us while we live." - Unknown
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Pain.
There was pain everywhere, seeping into his bones and draining down inside of his heart. He had barely taken five steps before his world started to spin and he had to stop for a moment to gather his bearings. He was beaten and from what he could tell...it was bad. That was his least concern though because at the moment he couldn't find his family. He had no idea where they were nor could he see them amid the chaos and rubble of the prison.
Around him fires were still raging and walkers were pouring in from all directions. Most stumbled past him as he stood there in a daze, his beaten body and bloody scent mixing right on in like he was one of them. He had been lucky and he had Michonne to thank for that. He couldn't see her either, but then again he was surprised he could see anything at all at this point in time. His left eye was swollen almost completely shut and the longer he stood there the more the daylight started to fade. Walkers were starting to take interest in him and he knew that he had to leave.
He stumbled towards the woods, the only place he knew to go to escape. He prayed that his family had gotten out. He prayed harder than he had ever prayed in his lifetime. He felt like a failure as he swayed like a drunken blind man towards his solace. Going into the prison like this was only asking to be killed and what good would that do his kids if he went on a suicide mission.
No, he wouldn't think that. He couldn't think that. One of the others had to have gotten them out. He had seen the buses after all. That was where they were.
His kids.
His stomach clenched violently and he paused at a nearby tree to empty its contents all over the hard ground below. He wasn't going to make it. He lurched forward, his fingers making one last desperate swipe at the tree to maintain balance, but it wasn't enough. He pitched face first towards the ground and accepted his fate for what it was.
He had failed them.
...
Rick twitched as something cool and wet slid across his chest. It felt soothing in a way and also misleading. Nothing in this world was meant to be soothing anymore and alarms began to chime within his head.
Walkers.
In a mild panic he flung his hand out, knocking the coolness away. A soft voice crooned to him, whispering words that comforted him even though he couldn't quite make out what they were. Walkers couldn't talk so he must be safe. He only hoped that whoever it was had mercy on his soul although he wasn't so sure that he deserved it.
...
He was running towards Carl and Judith, his baby girl crying at the top of her lungs as Carl single-handedly fought off walkers. Carl's eyes drifted helplessly over to him and Rick pleaded with everything he had in him to just hold on...he was coming at full-speed. Except he felt like his legs weren't even moving and no matter how hard he tried to speed up he wasn't drawing any closer to help his children. They needed him and he had failed them yet again...
With a gasp, Rick sat up sharply, a stinging pain causing him to groan out loud from the sudden movement. He was panting heavily as his eyes took in his surroundings. He was in a small room, no bigger than an 8x10 and he was alone. A quick glance around told him that although he was alone at that precise moment, there was clearly at least one other person here...that was evidenced further by the bandages that covered him and the absence of his shirt.
The room held a slight chill and upon further inspection he could see that he was inside of what appeared to be some kind of storage building. He was lying on a makeshift pallet, an identical one lying right next to it, but empty save for a backpack that looked oddly familiar...
The sound of the bay door being lifted and someone entering had Rick's senses on full alert. He automatically reached for his gun, but of course it wasn't there. He had lost that back when the Governor and himself had been fighting it out. The person was cloaked in the shadows that lurked inside the small room, but it didn't take a genius to figure out who his angel of mercy was: Carol.
As she stepped further into the room, her eyes strayed to him and she blinked in surprise. "You're up." Her words were more of a statement of surprise than fact.
He nodded just slightly, his movements guarded as she approached. They hadn't exactly left on good speaking terms and he wasn't sure if she was saving him or intending to thrash him later. He knew that if she did that it would be nothing short of what he deserved. He was an asshole for forcing her to leave the prison when deep down in his heart he had known she would never hurt his family. He owed her everything yet here she was asking for nothing.
"Why?" He croaked out the words, his voice sounding horribly raspy. How long had he been out?
She arched an eyebrow and passed him a bottle of water to drink which he accepted gratefully. She didn't pretend not to know what he was referring to...she was smart, something he had always admired about her. She set down a small lantern and some blankets before speaking.
"To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure. I was leaving the area, having heard the explosion but arriving too late to be of any help. I almost missed you lying on the ground like some kind of fallen walker, but then you twitched and caught my eye. I took a chance...you had a pulse, but I knew it was risky. What if I brought you back here and you died? I would have had to kill you...I couldn't just leave you though...as much as I wanted to that's not who I am."
Rick finished the bottle of water and sat the empty onto the floor next to him. He pondered her words for a few moments. "For what it's worth...I'm sorry. I know it doesn't erase what I did, how I judged you, but I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you...to hurt Daryl..." His breath hitched just thinking of all those not there with them.
"Daryl?" Her words were sharp, her tone changing at mention of the redneck's name.
He met her eyes, blue on blue, but chose not to comment. She had to know what Daryl thought of her...how much she meant to him. Didn't she?
"How long have I been here?" He asked instead.
She turned away from him and began to add more blankets to her pallet, handing one over to him as well. "A week," she replied.
A week? Fuck. He hadn't thought to be out that long. A week meant that the others were liable to be anywhere by now. Where would he find them? How would he find them? Most importantly, was there anyone left to be found? That last thought hurt too much to contemplate so he forced his thoughts elsewhere instead. Thankfully, Carol didn't prod as to the kid's whereabouts.
As she smoothed out her blanket, he reached over impulsively and grabbed her wrist. She tensed, but didn't pull away. "Thank you," he muttered.
She nodded, "You're welcome. Should probably get some sleep. Since you're awake we'll need to move on. It's always better not to stay in one place too long."
He lay back down on the blankets, but he wasn't sure if he would be able to sleep or not. Hell, he had been sleeping for a week now, hadn't he? How in the hell was he going to get back to sleep now? He still had questions...but Carol didn't seem as if she were in the mood for questions so he simply lay there while she settled into her bedroll. He waited until she had extinguished the light before speaking.
"If I've been out a week, why am I not hungry?" He pondered.
She sighed softly, "You haven't been out the entire time."
"I don't remember."
"I know you don't. I'm not entirely sure that you were lucid, but every time you opened your eyes I coaxed you to drink as much fluid as possible. You drank soup, Gatorade, fruit juice...things of that nature. I wouldn't let you starve, Rick. I may be cold, but I'm not that cold." Her words were soft, but there was a hint of animosity within them.
"You're not cold. I was wrong... I screwed up, all the way around. I'm paying the ultimate price. I've lost my kids..." There. He said it.
"Did you see them?"
"Well, no...but-"
"Then how do you know you've lost them? Just because you didn't see them doesn't mean anything bad happened. Carl is strong. Have faith that they made it through. That's all anyone has anymore is faith. That and common sense."
He felt his lips curve into a semblance of a smile. "Common sense goes a long way," he agreed.
"Indeed. You should sleep."
"Carol?"
Another sigh, "Yes, Rick?"
"Do you think you can ever forgive me?"
Silence...
"I'm not sure that I can answer that right now."
...
He woke up what was possibly a short time later, the chill of the night having crept into his bones. He shifted in the darkness, rolling onto his side as he stared at the bundle of blankets beside him that covered Carol.
She hadn't been able to answer him earlier about forgiveness and that had hurt, but what had he expected? A warm hug and a kiss? She had saved him, bandaged him, and essentially brought him back from the dead. That was good enough for him. It had to be.
Once upon a time they had developed a beautiful friendship, a sense of trust that wasn't easily found these days. Then one day it had vanished and he was left wondering what in the hell had happened between them. He knew Carol almost as well as he knew Daryl...or he liked to think that he did. She was changing, no- she had changed and yet he had remained largely the same. She had grown from a battered housewife to a strong and beautiful woman capable of doing whatever it took to get the job done.
He had shunned her, tossed her out into the world alone for attempting what the rest of them hadn't had the guts to do. She had tried to stop the infection. She hadn't succeeded, but that was beyond the point. He had killed people who hadn't even been sick without so much as batting an eyelash. Maybe what had bothered him the most, what he hadn't been able to wrap his head around was that she had done it underneath the radar.
She hadn't come to him. Before, she would have sought out either him or Daryl to talk that kind of thing through, but that time she had taken initiative. It was blatantly obvious in that moment that Carol was changing. The Carol that had fought alongside him and the others was changing. At the same time it felt as if she were pulling away from them all and that hurt. Because deep down, down where he never let others see, there was a love burning inside of his soul for the woman who lay next to him in the dark.
He loved her...and he wasn't sure whether that love was platonic or something more, but it was there nevertheless. And he felt awful about it. Carol was Daryl's woman. There was an unspoken rule around the group that Daryl had laid claim to her heart long before anyone else had been a thought in the wind. Every time Rick had seen them together he knew that it was true. He had seen it in her eyes, seen it in the eyes of his brother.
A slight rustle of her blankets had his eyes shifting to her in the dark. Her blankets were shaking slightly, the vibrations traveling through to his own. Shit.
Without thinking he scooted over an inch and touched her shoulder, "Carol?"
There it was. A sniff. She tensed, "Yeah? Everything OK?"
"I'm as good as can be expected, thanks. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Go back to sleep. Early start in the morning."
Oh, hell no. She wasn't getting away that easily. Maybe she didn't want to be bothered, but it was apparent that she was going through something. Rick wasn't about to just lie here while she cried soft tears without trying to help her. He owed her that much and he would spend the rest of his days trying to make up for being a jerk to her. She meant too much to him for that.
He curled his arm around her thin frame and lifted, ignoring the protest in his ribs as he did so. He tucked her against his chest, keeping his arm tight against her as they warmed each other in silence. He could offer her this much.
"Please don't cry," he whispered.
She sucked in a breath and slowly turned over with his arm still draped across her. "I'm not crying," she insisted.
He shook his head and chuckled softly at her in the darkness. He lifted his hand and slowly touched her face, his fingers tracing the dampness beneath her eyes, "Liar."
She sighed, the sound very much one of defeat, "I didn't mean to wake you."
"Hell I think I've slept more than I've slept since this whole thing started this past week. I'm pretty sure I can handle being awake a bit."
She didn't respond, but he noticed that she didn't pull away either. Surprisingly, he found that holding her in his arms like this felt good. It felt better than good even...it felt right in a way that nothing had felt right in a long time. For a moment in time she was the Carol that he had known before, the woman who was all soft curves and soft-spoken. She was the Carol that he knew and understood.
But she wasn't his and no matter what happened from here on out he knew that she never would be. Her heart would always belong to his brother, his right-hand man, and his best friend. He knew that he was wrong for simply thinking these thoughts, any of them, but he couldn't help himself from wondering what it would be like to touch her. It had been so very long since he had felt the comfort of another woman's touch.
"Why were you crying?" He whispered.
She shook her head and pulled back from him a little, but he didn't quite release his hold on her so she didn't stray far. "It doesn't matter. Forget it."
"Carol..."
"Rick." Her voice was firmer now and he sighed in defeat. "I should have put a shirt on you," she murmured absently.
He felt her hand brush against his chest and he clenched his teeth together at the soft touch. "You miss him." It wasn't a question, but merely a statement of fact.
She didn't pretend to not know who he was referring to. There was no point when it was so obvious. Instead, she lifted her other hand to his chest, both palms resting against him. He knew it was a type of distraction technique and instead of pressing the issue further he simply let himself be distracted.
He was hard, his pants tented tightly between his legs in such a way that he hoped she wouldn't feel. How embarrassing would it be for him to have an erection right at this very moment. He chalked it up to simply being here with her, to lying beside her and inhaling her light womanly scent. He was a man after all and it had been quite some time since he had had any sort of sexual contact at all.
He didn't have a clue how it happened, but his lips fell to hers. There was a moment of shock that passed between them both upon the contact, a brief moment where Carol's lips were frozen and the very breath from his lungs was sucked dry. He didn't even know what he was thinking, kissing Carol...he couldn't explain it at all, but right then it felt like something they both needed, an affection that they both craved. And as her lips began to move against his own he knew that she wasn't kissing him - she was kissing Daryl. But, Rick, he was kissing her.
Maybe God had decided that this was to be his punishment, to be rescued by the very woman that should have hated him, and to be kissed by that same woman who's heart would always belong to another.
Then her tongue hesitantly touched his and all thought process was lost as he deepened the kiss, accepting what she was willing to give. When she pulled away he had to mentally talk himself back from surging forward like a horny teenager.
"What are we doing, Rick? What is this?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair wearily. "Honestly? I don't know..."
Instead of replying, she simply lay her head upon his bare chest and he rested his hand upon the curve of her shoulder. He let his fingers draw small circles over the material of her clothes, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts, none of them necessarily pleasant. All he could think about were his kids, the group, and everyone they had lost. Everywhere he turned he was faced with tragedy. It had been nice to have this one moment of beauty and comfort.
"Thank you," he breathed as he turned his face towards her, pressing his lips against her hair.
"For?"
"For showing me an ounce of compassion, for saving me, for being...you."
"Who else would I be?"
He smiled softly. "You're right. You're so very right. You've changed, done what needed to be done. You're a survivor and you're gonna make it in this world."
"You'll get there," she murmured, but he wasn't so sure. He was still the same guy as before, the guy trying to save the world and make it a better place. Except now he was starting to crack, the weight of everything falling upon his shoulders putting a chink into his armor. Eventually he feared that he would be just like Shane had been back at the farm - a guy who's armor had fallen completely apart to reveal the insanity beneath the surface.
Sometimes he looked at Daryl and wondered why he couldn't be more like his best friend, his brother. He used to be like that, he thought. Maybe that's the cycle they were destined for...a neverending cycle of madness that would eventually destroy mankind for good. For Daryl's sake he hoped not. To think of something bad happening to Daryl, of him not making it...that made his heart thump painfully.
A drop of wetness gathered in the corner of his eye, but he refused to acknowledge it. He wouldn't break down now...there simply wasn't any time for that.
"I miss him too," he whispered into her hair as her body burrowed deeper into his side.
He tightened his arm around her. For once in his life he was relieved to let someone else share the burden and he drew comfort and strength from the remarkably strong woman nestled into his side. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but together they would find their family and together, they would survive.
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