The air was beginning to turn bitter, while the cloud filled skies emerged darkened off in the distance of the Hilltop. Daryl was waiting close by the immense wooden gate, leaning against a beaten-up station wagon, gnawing at the skin on his thumb raw.
A dull ache still rang through his right shoulder, the only remaining physical reminder of the Sanctuary. Didn't need any scars to help him remember though, he was back there most nights when he closed his eyes, waking up in a cold sweat, shaking. Sometimes he wasn't sure whether he'd been screaming before launching his eyes open, and Carol never told him. Never uttered a single word, only unburdened him with delicate finger strokes across his temples, non-descript shushing noises drumming in the background as her warm body lay next to his.
She understood what it was like to have your past haunt you. They didn't need to talk, but she wouldn't, couldn't, leave him in his own private personal hell.
They'd always looked out for each other, but now he couldn't even do that. Stuck behind walls or tucked away, out of sight from the Saviors to prevent potential backlash. But plans still had to be made if they were going to fight back against Negan.
He knew he didn't like this plan at all. Something about it just seemed off; it was nothing to do with her, he knew she could survive out there, but would she mentally survive doing something that was slowly killing her soul? And then there was Negan. He was the ever-present, demoniac threat that could slaughter an entire town for sneezing in his presence.
A gust of chilled wind brushed over his exposed forearms, creating goosebumps over his usually over-warm body.
"You got the map?" Daryl heard Jesus ask, exiting out of Barrington house while throwing his long leather jacket over a puffed hiker's jacket.
"Map, water, ammo," Carol countered.
Daryl lifted his head, beholding the sight behind him. She looked nothing like the Carol that she was battling on the inside. Green cargo pants tucked into her calf-high combat boots, her Bowie knife sheathed hanging off the side of her hip, a burgundy combat jacket buttoned up tight underneath the heavy, black armored vest, with a grey scarf wrapped close under her chin. Walking down the hill she reached behind her back to pull out a Glock, dropped open the magazine inspecting it, slamming it back into place with the palm of her hand before cocking it. She was good at pretending, being whoever she thought she needed to be in a given situation, but Daryl was anxious that all her bravado wouldn't cover for the loss of her killer instinct. Rick had told him about the letter she left before he had found her, and she had told him herself as much. All the killing was killing her.
"Hey, you come to see me off? Or trying to stow away in the trunk..?" Carol smiled at him softly, her eyes sincere but still saddened.
"Naw," he mumbled lowly, dropping his gaze briefly before looking back up to her. Glancing at Jesus before continuing, "This don't feel right, shouldn't be goin' out there. Ya shouldn't be goin' out there like this."
"Storm should hold off until we get back," Jesus began before being quickly interrupted.
"Ain't what I was talkin' bout," he stared into him. Carol looked over at Jesus, asking him with her eyes to give them a minute, understanding immediately, he went to find Maggie atop the wall look-out.
"Daryl, it's just a scouting run. Goin' out to check this place out, see if we can use it or make sure Negan isn't. It's just recon, we can't take the chance of bein' surprised." She looks calmly at him, trying to impart the feeling between them.
"And what if ya run into some Saviors, what then? They ain't gonna just forget they seen you. Not gonna just let you leave," memories obviously drawing pain into his voice, almost emitting a slim tremor.
Carol tilted her head forward while inhaling deeply, "Then we'll deal with it...not like I haven't had to before..."
"Shouldn't have to, not with what it costs ya." his voice full of empathy. There was no point he thought, to her saving everyone again just to lose her as a result. Daryl rolled his sore shoulder, rubbing just above the collarbone with his fingertips.
Shock rose from his eyes as Carol reached forward to place a hand on his shoulder, kneading the heel of her palm into the front, while drawing upwards with her fingers along the back. They hadn't had much physical contact since finding her near the Kingdom, except for the nights she quieted away his nightmares.
"I'm not going to pretend I'm happy about it, but some things are more important than yourself," she quietly uttered, looking down at the earth below. Daryl lowered a hand onto her outstretched arm, gripping lightly above her slender wrist. She watched him intently while breathing deeply a few times, fingers now tracing down his elbow to circle the inside of his arm. "Some things are worth protecting."
Their gaze never averted from each other, almost completely missing an approaching Jesus from the guard tower. As Daryl ducked into an embarrassed grin, Carol smirked widely.
"Plus, nothins' going to happen to me, not when I've placed myself in Jesus's hands."
Daryl playfully jabbed at her with an elbow as Jesus walked around to stand next to the driver's side door. "We should go,"
She nodded, lazily dragging her touch away from Daryl's arm, walking around to open the passenger side, briefly smiling again before sliding into the car. "Nine lives, remember?"
Maggie called for the gates to be opened, the car's engine turning over as he stepped a few steps back. The station wagon pulled out, heading down the little straight away road from them. He watched as it became an indistinguishable speck in the distance, darkened clouds growing larger, a floating crisp wind beginning to swirl in the air.
They had been driving for almost ten minutes in complete silence. Carol placed an elbow against the window, staring out at the passing deserted landscape. She could feel Jesus passing her looks every so often, when he really should be watching the road, almost starting to speak but never following through. It's exactly what she disliked about being around the Kingdom, always being watched even when all she wanted was to be left alone. No one seemed to be able to grasp the concept.
"You gonna say whatever it is you've been wanting to, or just drive off the road now and get it over with?" she deadpanned, still looking out the window.
Amused, Jesus laughed silently before glancing over in her direction. "Does Daryl know?"
Carol whirled around in her seat towards him, "Know what..?"
"It's pretty obvious...at least on his end," he acknowledged, turning back to the road before continuing. "From what I've seen, he's been through a lot of shit, and most of the time he doesn't deal with it. Most of the time he lashes out in anger or completely shuts down. He's got this wall built, he won't let anyone in, not even Rick. But then there's you,"
"We're just friends, we get each other." blankly answering. She didn't need people in her business, and certainly wasn't going to expose Daryl, he'd been through enough. Prying open the glove compartment to find some sort of distraction, she found a black fabric case containing a multitude of numbered CDs.
"Not with the way he looks at you. The way his shoulders relax when he sees you, how he remembers how to feel emotions around you, that's more than even Rick and Michonne. You may want to pretend it's not because you said you can't kill for people anymore, but then what ARE you doing out here, taking on Negan, right after what he did to Daryl?"
Furrowing her brow, she grabbed the disc labeled number two and shoved it into the player in the dash. "You'll see, when they find out what happens to people who don't leave me and the people I love alone."
The brief silence was filled by Tina Turner echoing through the car.
You must understand though the touch of your hand, makes my pulse react. That it's only the thrill of boy meeting girl, opposites attract.
Jesus locked eyes with Carol as he tried arduously to hold back a smile, she slammed her hand against the eject button, cupping her face with the other as they both began to giggle uncontrollably.
"Now I know what to have them play at your wedding," he teased regaining his breath.
The car pulled up outside what looked like it used to be an office building complex, now run down and covered in overgrown shrubs and climbing vines, chain-link fences pointlessly guarding from the sides around the back.
Someone at some point had dumped numerous cars all around. There was no sound, no signs of people or walkers. As they climb out of the car, Jesus peers at the darkening skies threatening to open, being startled by Carol banging on the hood of a rusted car a few times. If there were any walkers around the perimeter, they would know by now.
She moves to stand in front of the chain fence, looking around, over, and through it. "Should probably start from the back, second floor if we can get there, then sweep forward towards the front door. That way we don't get surprised half-way through with no way out."
He was about to offer to climb atop the fence, help her over, before she was already halfway up the fence. Her feet swung up to find the ledge under a first story window, pushing her body high enough to grab the top of the fence, then pulling herself up and over. Landing with a soft cushion in her legs, she turned to look over at the man on the opposite side of the fence. Jesus stared at her stunned, then letting a smirk cross his lips as he shook his head before scaling the fence himself. This could be fun.
They moved an adjacent dumpster under a smashed-in second story window. Jesus leaped up and climbed in, leaning a hand back down to support Carol's ascent. The room was picked over, covered in strewn papers, Carol unlatched her knife from its sheath and grasped her fingers through the three grips on the handle. Jesus moved to the closed door, grabbing the handle with one hand, silently counting before swinging it open. The hall was equally deserted.
Four more offices cleared like the first one. Their movements now fluid as they approached the final room.
Walkers groaned as they tumbled from the opened doorway; Carol plunged her knife to the hilt into one's temple, scattering brain matter as it swung up into the chin of another. Jesus grappled onto the shirt of the oncoming, tumbling creep, pivoting its face into pieces against the wall. One approached feet behind his left shoulder, threatening to sink into his arm. She jammed her left heel into the outside of its knee, buckling the walker backward onto her knife at the base of its neck.
She stepped over the pile of bodies, wiping the blade on the side of her pants. Jesus scoffed lightly, "This is you not wanting to kill?...Damn."
This didn't matter. These things weren't people, not anymore.
They made their way to the stairwell, through the main front entrance, taking stock of every detail in case of a quick exit. All the furniture seemed to be missing, odd but not out of place. Could have been scavenged by others. The metal stairway doors were heavy, closed off any airflow to the outside which trapped the rank smell of death around them.
Carol pulled open the door while Jesus guarded it. Again the hallway was empty. She pulled the door all the way back as they passed through, but stopping as they heard a faint metallic sound while the door swung closed with a loud thud. Jesus turned to try the handle, but it was locked. Growling and moans came from the end of the hall, nearly fifteen walkers emerged stumbling towards them. Each tried to open opposing doors but neither successful.
Carol groaned, "Fuck this,"
Reaching for the Glock in the back of her waistband, she began picking them off one by one. She'd spent half of the clip when she was dragged through a small crack in a doorway by Jesus.
The room she'd tumbled into contained part of the missing furniture, piled up against the door they had just squeezed through. She turned her head back to Jesus as she retrieved her gun, he was moving quickly around a large window with his hands gliding along the frame. Before she had a chance to speak, he had grabbed the mid-sized chair along the wall and flung it through the window.
"We can make it to that car over there, once we get over the fence we should be good."
She looked to the ground below. Numerous walkers had massed, from the back end of the lot as far as she could tell, probably drawn by her gunfire or the crashing glass.
"There's no way we'll both make it. You should go, get some help from Hilltop," she reasoned.
"I'm not leaving you behind, Daryl will kill me. Either we both go or neither of us go."
"If you don't go we'll probably die, if we both go we'll probably die!" she snapped.
She stared at him, not backing down. Finally, he subsided with a deep exhale, turning into the open window frame and placing a hand on the edge. "Stay here..."
Jesus propelled himself forward out the window, tucking into a roll as he hit the top car roof. He sprung up seconds later, continuing his momentum towards part of the fence, leaping fully outstretched. The sound of a single shot rang out, a corpse dropped from the edge of the car as Jesus leapt over it. He scaled the fence and ducked into their station wagon. Carol watched as the car skidded in a semi-circle, turning back towards the Hilltop. The wind blew across her face, the chill sent shivers through her body; she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to block out the bleak condition she found herself in.