Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Tags: *Carol Peletier/Daryl Dixon, *Judith Grimes, *Rick Grimes, *Maggie Rhee, *Jerry, *Angst, *Carl's fate, *Hurt/Comfort, *All the feels, *8B Promo, *Smut

Rated: E

Summary: Winning just means we get tomorrow, and maybe one more night. After that ... no guarantees. Carol learns of Carl's fate and turns to the only person she can to console her … Daryl.

A/n: My darling friend, Marie1063 came to me … "I have a plot bunny and no time to write it. Help!" What are friends for, lol? This little story focuses on the season 8B promo. I hope you enjoy!

A Prayer for Tomorrow

By:

CharlotteAshmore

Part One: Dear Carol

Carl? No … no! She just couldn't accept it. Not her brave, sweet boy. A sob wrenched from her throat, tears washing over her cheeks brightened pink by her recent exposure to the sun. Carl had endured so much from the very beginning … the walker attack at the quarry, barely escaping the CDC, being shot and nearly killed while searching for Sophia, that night on the farm, a harsh winter running from one herd after another, the attack on the prison, surviving on the road after Atlanta … god, the list was endless and not even touching on what he'd gone through after his arrival in Alexandria. How could he have been so careless as to have allowed himself to be bitten?

Carol barely felt the welcoming warmth as Daryl's arm snaked around her shoulders, pulling her against his side, offering what comfort he could. For longer than she could recall, he'd been her rock, her strength, her reason. Yet, she couldn't revel in the warmth of his embrace, however; not as she glanced over at Rick where Maggie stood weeping before him as he now shared the news with her, his eyes red-rimmed, a blatant testament to his grief. How would he ever go on without his son, the driving force of his will to survive?

Judith whimpered, her little hand tracing the tears scorching Carol's face. She refused to release her death grip on Daryl's unkempt hair as she reached for the woman who'd been as good as a mother to her since shortly after her birth. "Care!" she whimpered again, demanding attention.

Carol reached for her, but her attention was drawn to the paper clasped in her white-knuckled grip, and she stopped before reaching the child, her arm falling to her side. "Carol …" a breath of a whisper drew her gaze to his, the twisting dagger of pain in her chest wrenching a sob from her throat. So much pain …

"I'm s-sorry!" swept brokenly past her lips as she prised herself free of his consoling arm to run blindly, pounding steps carrying her towards Barrington House and the solace of the space which had been allotted to her.

Daryl glanced down at Asskicker in his arms, the little girl's needs weighing heavily on the scale with his wants, before his eyes once more sought out the retreating form of Carol as she disappeared from view. Jerry held out a hand, nodding in understanding before he followed, the message clear on his unusually somber features. She won't be alone.

Michonne caught Daryl's eye as she approached, watching as he shifted from foot to foot and rubbed soothing circle's over Judith's back. "I could take her if you want to go after Carol," she offered, holding out her arms for the girl. But Judith turned away and buried her face against her Uncle Daryl's throat, a wince crossing his features as her little hands tightened in his hair. "Or not."

He scrubbed a hand over his face and closed his eyes wearily. "She's been like this since the raid … when I came back after, and found out about –" Daryl cut himself off abruptly, sadness, bitterness and grief choking off his words. "She needs me."

Michonne tilted her head to the side, scrutinizing every nuance of his face. "So does Carol … now, I think, more than ever. Just as you need her, Daryl." She took a sleepy Judith from his aching arms and settled the child against her shoulder. "I think Judy will be ok now. She has me … and her daddy. Go to Carol now."

Daryl huffed a beleaguered breath and gnawed his lip for a long moment before he nodded. "Thanks, 'Chonne." He didn't waste another moment before loping off towards the great brick edifice where Carol had disappeared.

*.*.*

Carol dropped the letter onto the navy and white duvet which covered her bed and began quickly shucking her armor, tossing the pieces across the room haphazardly in a fit of pique. Her boots went flying next, the left leaving a scuff in the drywall next to a bookshelf. She removed her belt, setting her weapons aside and placing her trench knife on the bedside table. But her rage quickly abated, giving into the grief she was trying so desperately not to feel.

How much more loss would she be forced to endure before it broke her completely? Her fingers trembled as she stretched towards the crumpled parchment, her name barely discernible amongst the creases and folds. She hastily brushed a tear away, his penmanship not having improved much since the turn when she and Lori had still tried to maintain structure for their children by making them attend lessons. Those days seemed a lifetime ago now.

Carol squared her shoulders and built up her walls as she unfolded the note Rick had pressed into her hands, refusing to let herself feel. Her feet unconsciously dragged her towards the window and the lure of the afternoon sunlight, her eyes focusing blearily through the tears she wouldn't allow to fall.

Dear Carol,

Hey. I hope this letter gets to you. I left it with the ones I wrote for Dad, Michonne, Enid, and Daryl. I didn't leave one for Judy because I don't think it will survive whatever's coming, not long enough for her to be able to read it. I trust my family to tell her about me … someday. All I ever wanted was for her to be safe.

I'm sorry I have to go. There was always a chance this would happen, even as strong as we all are now. None of us is immune. Guess I had to find out the hard way, huh? I was just trying to do the right thing. Please don't be mad. At least I'll be able to see Mom … and Sophia. There are so many loved ones we've lost, but I miss them the most. I miss them so much, Carol.

I want to tell them what a great mom you were to me, how you always looked after me and kept me safe, how you taught me to be a good man. I know I didn't always say it, not enough anyway, but I love you so much.

I don't know how things are going to play out today or how much time I have left to get this done, so I have to hurry. But I need to tell you what I've learned from this. We only have today, Carol, one chance to get it right. I've wasted so much time, and now … I don't get to tell Enid how much I care about her. I don't get to kiss her one more time. No more runs with my dad, no more comics with Michonne, no more stories with Judy. There are no guarantees! What I'm trying to say is, don't waste a minute.

Tell him. Tell Daryl how much you love him. I know you do, just as much as he loves you. I don't know what you're afraid of, but the time for being scared is past. You don't know what's going to happen today … or tomorrow, but could you stand to lose him without telling him how you feel? Could you live with the regret?

Be happy, Carol. Fight hard for it, for our family and for Daryl.

I love you,

Carl

A hot wash of tears trailed from beneath her closed lids as the fingers of her left hand fisted into the heavy drape adorning the window, the letter gripped tightly in her right hand pressed over her heart. A sob tore free of her throat as she pressed her brow to the cool window pane, fighting against the torrent of pain threatening to bring her to her knees.

Carol shook her head as a knock came at the door. She didn't want anyone to see her moment of weakness, and she knew it could only be one of two people concerned enough to invade her solitude. Daryl or Jerry. Considering Daryl had his hands full with the littlest Grimes, she was betting on the latter. She knew her friend would stand a silent watch over her, much as he'd done for Ezekiel, without question, but she didn't want him to think she didn't appreciate his efforts.

"I can't … I'm not fit for c-company just now, Jerry," she called softly, hoping her voice wouldn't betray her emotions.

"Good thing I ain't him, then, huh?"

Carol felt her walls begin to crumble, the mortar and stone disintegrating to rubble at the sound of his voice. She could hide from anyone … anyone but him.

*.*.*

Daryl eyed the huge foyer and its grand staircase with trepidation, much like when he'd visited the Hilltop before. He felt constricted in his own skin, out of place, the oppressive silence crowding in on him not helping in the least. Everyone was still outside, preparing for battle and whatever it was Negan and his Saviors would wage against them next. But not his Carol. She was there somewhere within the great brick building, lost in her grief. He couldn't allow her to suffer alone. The entire trek from Alexandria, one thought had kept his feet moving … he would see her again. He'd prayed she had survived the raid on the Kingdom and rendezvoused with Maggie. The hardships and abuse he'd suffered in his life had convinced him there was no all powerful being watching over them, but for Carol … for her he would pray.

He needed her more than the air he breathed, her smile - sustenance for his soul. She was his rock, his strength, his reason … always. Bolstering his resolve, he took the stairs two at a time, the drive to find her overwhelming, pushing him onward. How many times had he lost her now? That night on the farm had been almost too close, more close calls on the road that winter, when Andrew had sabotaged the prison and he'd nearly lost her in the tombs, Rick sending her away … He shuddered, remembering the elation he'd felt in her arms in the woods outside of Terminus. He'd been so ready. He'd thought they could finally begin to stoke the fire which had always existed between them.

Daryl had opened himself up to her, silently pleading with her to take her rightful place at his side and in his heart. But it had been she who had withdrawn and built her walls until he'd realized it had no longer been their time. He had, however, refused to give up. He couldn't let her go, not as long as there was still breath in his body. He'd lost her in Atlanta, and then again in Alexandria. He couldn't bear to do it again. Not again. He didn't know how many tomorrows they had left. It was their time … NOW.

Finding nothing but emptiness, he pounded up the stairs to the third floor, and there he could see Jerry standing vigilant before the door at the end of the hall, hands resting atop his ever-present battle axe. The big man nodded and stepped away, and Daryl huffed a relieved sigh he wouldn't have to fight him for entrance to Carol's room.

"Has she said anything?" he asked, nodding towards the oak door.

"Not a word," Jerry said with a shake of his head, "but she knows I'm here if she needs me." He pointed a stocky finger in the direction of the stairs. "I'll keep watch from there now you're here."

Daryl clapped him on the shoulder and paused with his hand on the doorknob. The king had always set Daryl's teeth on edge, most likely because of his tender regard for Carol, but he admired the big man who had acted as his guard and his steadfast determination to now protect Carol.

He bowed his head and sent up a little prayer Carol wouldn't fight him. She could be so stubborn, but it was one of the many things he loved about her. That stubbornness had saved her more than once. Knocking softly, he waited to hear her reply before turning the knob.

"I can't … I'm not fit for c-company just now, Jerry," she called softly. Yet he had no trouble hearing her, or the quaver in her voice, that vulnerability she'd never been able to hide from him.

"Good thing I ain't him, then, huh?"

"Daryl …" a breath of sound past her lips. He watched her shoulders quake, her grip loosening on the drape, and he rushed forward to catch her before she could fall.

"Hey, I gotcha … I'm here, woman," he murmured against her silver curls as his arms cocooned her against his chest. "Y' ain't gotta hide from me, Carol. It's ok t' let go … with me."

Carol buried her face against his throat as she wrapped an arm around his waist, her fingertips digging into the small of his back. "I-I don't want to f-feel, Daryl. I c-can't … I'll break, and then I won't be good to anyone."

His head lowered as his embrace tightened, his cheek pressing to hers, his lips oh so close to the sweet whorls of her ear. "Feel it, Carol." Daryl traced the line of her collarbone before daring to settle his hand over her heart. "Y' need t' feel it. Y' fall, I'll catch y' … y' break I'll put y' back t'gether best I can, but don't let it fester an' make y' forget who y' are."

A hiccupping sob broke past her lips. "I-I don't even know who that is a-anymore."

Daryl felt the anxiety crawl like so much vermin beneath his skin, and he forced a deep breath into his lungs. A feeling of helplessness surged through him and he was forced to beat it back in his need to help her. How was he to do that when still, after all the time which had passed, he still had trouble forming his words, always fearful of rejection, ridicule and scorn. But he had to push through it now … for her.

He removed his hand from her heart to tilt her chin up, needing to see her beautiful eyes, bracing himself for the pain he knew he'd find there. Yet he craved that connection, needing to see the impact of his words reflected there, to see down into her soul. The days of watching her from the side of his eye was long past, and he met her gaze with nary a flinch, full on, as it was meant to be.

"You're my Carol," he said simply, summing up his universe in three words. "You're a mother, nurturin', protective, lovin' an' compassionate; a friend, always willin' t' listen or lend a hand; a survivor, steppin' up an' screamin' at th' world, telling fate y' won't jus' lay down t' die; a warrior, fighting with every breath t' make this world better." He pressed his brow to hers, their breaths mingling, her tears joining with his to become lost in his scruff. "That's who y' are."

"I've done so many horrible things, Daryl. I'm so lost," she breathed.

"No y' ain't. You're right here … with me. Still tryin', right?"

She drew in a deep stuttering breath, and he could almost feel her pain. "How can I when I lose everyone I love? Sophia," she gasped, her daughter's name still flaying open her heart after all this time. "The girls …"

"Y' don't have t' –"

"Lizzie k-killed her little sister. Sh-She didn't understand the walkers were bad, and … she wanted her to come back, so we could see. Oh, god, Daryl, I had to … I couldn't let her hurt Judith too." She hid her face against his chest, knowing she wouldn't be able to bear the horror in his eyes, the condemnation he surely felt towards her. "And now I've f-failed Lori. I promised her I would watch over her children, and I failed. Carl's gone. I never should have run away from Alexandria. I should have been there for him, for Judy."

Daryl fell with her as her knees buckled, cushioning her fall against his body. He dragged her onto his lap, his arms banded about her as he held her close to his chest. "Y' were a mess, Carol. How could take care of those kids if y' couldn't take care of yourself? It ain't your fault Carl's gone. It ain't your fault those girls are gone. I know y', woman. I know y' did everythin' y' could t' watch out for 'em."

He leaned back against the wall beneath the window and let her cry. God knows she's earned a good cry, he thought, stroking a hand gently over her spine. What must it have cost her t' confide somethin' like that in me? Could he do any less? It would do them both a world of good to be free of their burdens, or at least to share them so they wouldn't be so heavy. Perhaps then they would be able to heal.

"I'm sorry I lied t' y' … at th' cottage when y' asked about –"

The soft pads of her fingertips pressed gently to his lips. "You had your reasons. I was in a bad place, and you could see it. You were trying to protect me … like always."

"Wasn't th' only thing I lied about, an' I hated it. Ain't never been dishonest with y' before, an' it made me feel like shit. Don't matter that it was what y' needed t' hear," he mumbled against her temple.

Carol tilted her face up to study him. He'd always been a better read than the entire bestseller list, and his upset was a welcome distraction from the pain of her memories. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked cautiously, never knowing when she'd say something to send him running.

Daryl laid his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, his sharp teeth shredding the inside of his lip. "Gawd, no, I don't …" His lids slowly cracked open to meet her gaze. "But I need to."

She folded the twisted paper into a neat square and stuffed it into her pocket before she took his hand, twining his fingers with hers in a show of support. "You know you can talk to me, Daryl."

He nodded jerkily. "I know. It's jus' … hard. It's hard t' talk about what I saw, what I did … what was done t' … t' me. Don't want y' t' hate me."

Carol rested so easily in his arms, drawing on his strength, ready to offer her own. She could see the anguish in his eyes, feel it in the tension of his muscles. Whatever he had to tell her weighed more heavily on him than anything he'd ever faced before. "I could never hate you," she whispered, giving his hand a squeeze as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Talk to me, Daryl."

A sigh stuttered past his lips, and he was glad she'd averted her face, so the words would come more easily to him. He didn't have to be afraid with her.

"I went after him, th' bastard who killed Denise, which was really fuckin' stupid, but y' know better than anyone what a jackass I can be."

Carol snorted. "You've come a long way since the man I met at the quarry, but you are still ruled by your emotions, and injustice has never set well with you. You didn't find him, though, did you," she said, more of a statement than a question due to what she knew of the man serving as a double agent.

"No, I did. Michonne, Rosita an' Glenn … they followed me. They shoulda stayed their asses back home." His breath hitched and came in short pants as he tried to rein in his emotions. "Glenn would've been with Maggie. Not out in th' woods tryin' t' talk me down. If I'd've killed Dwight in th' burnt forest, he wouldn't've been there, wouldn't've shot me."

She pulled his head down to rest in the crook of her neck, her fingers weaving in and out through his hair as she caressed his nape. "You were doing what you believed was right. My man of honor," she murmured reverently, dropping a kiss to his brow.

"I didn't even know you were gone … thought y' were safe back home with th' lumberjack." A low growl rumbled in his chest, but he cut it off. Now was not the time for a spate of jealousy where Tobin was concerned. "I think they were jus' waitin' for us. They'd prob'ly been plannin' it for a while."

Carol slipped her hand inside the open collar of his shirt, her fingers skimming gently over the puckered flesh of the scar where he'd been shot. She soothed him as she waited for him to continue.

"Y'know I seen Rick go through some shit since I've known him. Seen him angry, grief-stricken, arrogant, tender with his kids, but Carol I ain't never seen him really scared … broken. That's how he was when they pulled us outta that van and I saw him and th' others on their knees in that clearin'. Musta been 'bout fifty of Negan's men there surroundin' us, our people on their knees and Maggie …"

"They were taking her to Hilltop to see the doctor." Morgan had filled her in on the basics of what had happened. Frankly, it shocked her Daryl was being so open with her now. It was as if he was being driven by some soul-deep need to share this with her. "What did Negan do, Daryl?"

His body trembled beneath her gentle touch, and he swiped a hand over his eyes to clear the tears which had escaped. "Toyed with us like some psycho, like he was enjoyin' himself. Told us we were his now, that we worked for him, but first … first he had to set an example an' kill one of us."

"Abraham."

Daryl nodded, pressing his head closer into the crook of her neck. "Yeah, bashed his head in with that bat. Then he saw how torn apart Rosita was an' shoved it in her face, tauntin' her. That's when I lost my shit. I went after him, got in a solid hit before his boys tackled me t' th' ground. Figured if he wanted blood … he could have mine. I didn't want him t' hurt no one else."

"Daryl!" she cried, cradling his face in her warm palms and pulling his head up so he would be forced to meet her gaze. "Look at me." Slowly, he opened his red-rimmed eyes, pain radiating in their depths along with a fair bit of shame. "You've got to stop this. Why do you think you have to sacrifice yourself?"

"Better me than someone I care about," he growled lowly.

Carol winced as he flopped back against the wall and raked a shaky hand through his hair. "You're just as important, Daryl … just as good."

Her words thawed some of the ice which had settled in his veins since that night, and he pulled her back into his chest, returning her hand to where she'd been stroking his chest. "Didn't work anyway. Instead of me, he went after Glenn." His voice broke and his face crumpled, the tears falling freely. Everything he'd kept bottled inside for so long, pouring out in hot tears of anguish. "All my fault. Don't care if Maggie says it wasn't … If I hadn't –"

"NO! No, it's not. He was no doubt planning it from the beginning. It's not your fault," she whispered fervently, her brow pressing to his, trying to ground him. She held him for a long time before he finally settled enough to continue, but the guilt still weighed heavily in his graveled voice.

"They … uhm … they loaded me up in a van an' took me to Negan's compound. He told Rick I was his now. Wanted me t' be one of his soldiers." His eyes were tortured as they rose to meet hers. "They tried t' break me, make me kneel, make me one of 'em. Paraded me around Alexandria like a fuckin' pet."

Carol pressed her cheek to his, her lips at his ear, her voice low, sweet and soothing to his battered senses. "They hurt you," she breathed, her breath warm as it fanned over his skin causing him to shiver. "But they didn't break you." Her fingers carded through his hair and he leaned into the touch, seeking more. "He'll never realize how strong you are … or how fiercely loyal to your family."

"We have t' win, Carol. We cain't let him hurt anyone else."

Carol smiled sadly, leaning back to catch his eye and brush away his remaining tears. "Winning just means we get tomorrow, and maybe one more night. After that ... no guarantees." She climbed off of his lap, her bare toes digging into the carpet as she wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to hold herself together. The thought of what he might have suffered at the hands of the Saviors tormenting her.

"Y' sound like y' givin' up," he murmured incredulously as he shot to his feet. He couldn't bring himself to believe it … not from her. Not after everything they'd survived since the quarry. "Carol … y' cain't."

"I'm not giving up, Daryl, but it's made me think." She sighed, forcing herself to remain upright instead of leaning back into his warmth a mere hair's breadth away. "I don't know anything for certain, I don't think I ever did. All I can be sure of is my own heart, and I know I don't want to have any regrets if I should die tomorrow."

"NO!" he ground out through clenched teeth. "Y' ain't leavin' me again, so jus' fucking stop talkin' shit right now, woman." He wrapped his arms around her from behind, over hers, pulling her tightly against him as his brow dropped t' her shoulder. "Y' said you'd try."

Her teeth sank into her lower lip to still its trembling. "I already broke that promise, but -"

"Make it again," he snapped urgently.

"There are no guarantees. That's why I have to tell you -"

"Carol … please …" His body shook with tremors, his voice higher pitched in his desperation. "I love you. I cain't lose y' again."

A sob swept past her lips, leaving her gasping. "Daryl …"

"When y' were ready I wasn't, an' then when I was ready you weren't. We gave each other time until it jus' ran out. There's no more time t' be scared t' tell y' how I feel, Carol. I cain't take th' chance I'm gonna lose y' again."

"Oh, Daryl …" She turned her face up to his, her lips at the corner of his mouth as her own blossomed into a blinding smile. "I love you, too. I was trying to tell you."

A/n: I really didn't think this was going to be so angsty when I started it. I should've known better, since I live for the angst. But I promise it will get better. Please review if you have a moment. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks to my awesome beta team of BettyBubble and Geektaire! Love you, girls! I will have Part Two up tomorrow.