Survivors
Daryl couldn't comprehend Rick's explanation of leaving Carol behind. He kept saying Carol killed Karen and Dave to try and stop the illness from spreading. He talked in circles of how he took her on a run and left her out there alone so Tyreese wouldn't kill her. The big, crazed fuck who hadn't been with them from the start. The fuck who almost got them all killed on the run for medicine to save the sick. The fuck who wasn't family.
He understood Carol's reasons for doing what she did. She saw the threat to Beth, Carl, Judith, Mika, Lizzie, and had to stop it. He could see her, watching silently as the two hacked up blood, and finally deciding their slim chance of survival wasn't worth risking the lives of even one member their close-knit family.
Rick rationalized that he'd done it for Tyreese and those useless Woodbury assholes. The very same ones that howled for blood while him and his brother fought to the death in their little arena. The same worthless, bleating sheep who'd followed a mad man just so they had food and shelter. Dead weight. None of them would've lived through what the rest of them had.
Through the roaring in his head, Rick went on and on about how he'd left her alone for the benefit of them all. Alone, so the prison wouldn't be split in two. Alone, when all the woman had ever done was try to be strong and protect those she loved. Alone, with no backup. Alone, when the word meant you died quickly in this hellish world.
Alone.
Carol, who'd been caregiver, mother, friend...Whatever each of the core group needed. Carol, who would put her life on the line for anyone of her family and had, time and time again. Shunned by someone she loved to try and make her way in this world. By their once fearless leader, who had turned into a shell of the man they had all once respected.
Pure, unadulterated rage over Rick's cowardice built with each word that passed through his lips. It flickered to life with such a ferocity Daryl was unable to placate Rick's crazed idiosyncrasies any longer. For months Daryl had justified Rick's inability to help with security, food runs, and anything that would require use of a weapon or protection of the group as the good sheriff needing time to recover.
"Fuck ya, Rick!" he screamed, punching him in the face with every ounce of anger in his body. As their one time leader hit the floor, Daryl stood over him and snarled, "Carol's the best of us! Did what she had ta do ta protect this family. You'd do well to remember what she did for your lot, instead of worryin' 'bout someone else who was almost dead already."
The redneck didn't worry about what anyone else had to say. Instead, he stormed to his cell and grabbed what little belongings he had and made his way outside. As the bike growled to life beneath him, Daryl knew he would find her. He would find her alive, and the two of them would be fine because they were survivors and together they could take on this hell and thrive.