A/N Hey everyone! This is an idea that I have been toying with for a few weeks. I tried to stay as in character as possible, but there is probably a little OOC in this. Sorry about that! I plan on updating new week. Let me know what you think :)
Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead. I just borrow their characters :)
Carol groaned as she hefted the overflowing laundry basket into her tired arms. She tried not to think about the amount of work that laid between her and when she could finally bed down for the night. Early nights were a luxury that were rarely experienced. There was always something to be done. Stumbling forward, Carol made her way toward the prison to distribute the group's now clean laundry.
Once she entered the cell block, Carol was accosted by Beth who was wandering around looking bored.
"Hey Carol, do you need any help?" Beth asked, eager to be of use.
As Beth took a closer look at Carol she noticed that the woman's face was covered in a light sheen of sweat and underneath that, Carol was very pale. Black rings outlined tired looking eyes and Carol's entire body seemed to be hunched over onto itself. Faint tremors could be seen running up the pale woman's arms.
"Are you okay Carol?" Beth asked anxiously.
"I'm fine, sweetheart." Carol replied quietly, silently wishing Beth would move so she could put the laundry down and give her aching arms a rest.
"No you're not…" Beth insisted "Here, give me the laundry and I'll get it out to everyone. You just go get some sleep." Beth declared taking the laundry easily from Carol.
"It's okay, I have to cook dinner anyway," Carol half heartedly protested. She knew she should do it. Carol was strong. Not weak. She needed to prove she could do it.
"I'll do that too. You do so much. Let me help out…I feel like a burden." Beth almost whispered the last part, shame coloring her face.
Carol looked at the small figure in front of her and saw the same desperation to be of use that she had once felt. Feelings that Daryl had screamed at her for, and feeling that still haunted her.
Knowing that Beth needed to feel useful, Carol let the argument dry in her throat and gave the younger woman a smile, saying "Beth honey, you are anything but a burden. Thank you for helping out." Normally Carol would take a longer time to talk to the young, obviously lost, child. However she found that she just didn't have the energy for such an emotionally charged conversation.
Carol squeezed Beth's shoulder in thanks and began the grueling hike up the stairs to her cell. Every muscle in her body felt weak and shaky. The sun shined through the windows, so bright it was blinding to Caro's watery eyes. If Carol didn't know any better she would say she was sick. But there wasn't any time to be sick in this world.
Once Carol reached her cell she collapsed in her bed and fell asleep instantly.
Fire. Fire everywhere. Carol could only register the intense heat that consumed her body. Her very bones felt as if they were burning. Carol's muddled brain couldn't process what was happening. Why wasn't anyone helping her? Didn't they see the fire? It was so hot. Carol cried out in the pain of it. Heat wave after heat wave accosted her frail form making her muscles tremble and her eyes roll.
She wretched her arms to her head. She needed to stop the pounding. Except only one of her arms would move. The other was stuck, chained to something up high. Panic crept into Carol's foggy brain. She admonished herself to focus. Focus. Why was she chained to the bed? But it hurt so bad. So bad. Focus.
Her head felt as if it were exploding. And she couldn't stop it. Her arm was still stuck despite her yanking. Warm liquid was not running down that arm, adding to the horror of the entire situation. Voices were screaming, screeching out in the room. They invaded her head and added to Carol's agony.
Suddenly there were loud bangs and the voices dimmed. But only for a moment, rising back to the full cacophonous volume. Someone's hand was on Carol's stuck arm. Terror flood her system. What was happening. Carol desperately shook her head back and forth trying to clear it. Her eyes rolled, she couldn't focus enough to see anything. The hand however just freed her encased arm and lowered it slowly back to her body. Carol wrenched her arm away for the hand and clutched her head. If she just pressed hard enough maybe the pounding would stop. It would go away.
Her stomach gurgled sickeningly and suddenly acid was clawing acid clawing its way up her throat. The hands returned and held her head. The strain of vomiting left Carol panting, hunched over on her bed. Hand supported her frame and moved to lay her back down. Carol writhed, her thoughts muddled and confused by the fiery agony in which she was trapped.
The noise wouldn't stop. It had to stop. Her head swam as she tried to sit up and stop the noise. It was going to kill her. Carol's ears were throbbing as layer upon layer of sound penetrated into her very being. Carol jerked her arms up, attempting vainly to cover her ears and stop the torture.
There was an echoing roar that rang out across the room. Then everything fell silent. Hands were prying Carol's hands off her ears and picking up her limp body.
Carol tried to free herself from her captors. Where were they taking her? Her fever addled mind struggled to process what was happening. Soon Carol could think of nothing but the sickly rocking motion coming from all around her. Her stomach rebelled once again and the motion stopped, only to continue when her stomach had settled and she could breathe again.
Then there was water everywhere. Icy cold quickly replaced the heat with which Carol had been trapped in. Cold liquid assaulted Carol and she shrieked, trying to escape the icy barrage. Hands held her down, keeping her trapped in the torrent of frozen water. Carol cried out again and again, clawing at the unyielding hands.
"Stop it." A deep voice commanded firmly, right next to her ear.
She knew that voice. She would recognize it anywhere. Why was he hurting her like this?
"Stop now." Her desperate attempts to free herself began to slow. Was it him? Or was this a dream?
"That's right. I'm here. It's okay." Her panting slowed down to normal and she desperately tried to find the strength to open her weary eyes. She had to see him. Needed to know that he was real.
"That's my girl." The voice whispered. The restraining hands shifted from holding her down to cradling her against a warm, hard body.
Carol pried her eyes open to stare blearily into Daryl's bloodshot blue gaze. His eyes were filled with terror and anxiety.
Normally Carol would have been immediately alert if she saw that combination of emotions in Daryl's eyes, however she lost to battle to her heavy eyelids and darkness clouded her vision once more.