The Path Forward
Summary: An alternate scenario post 7-14 that ignores most of 7-15 and 7-16. War is coming, communities are uniting, and Carol has some damage control to do. Caryl, of course. Thanks for reading. Please drop me a review, good or bad, as feedback is always good.
Spoilers: Everything that's aired in the U.S. is fair game.
Disclaimer: None of it is mine.
Approaching the gate of Alexandria struck Carol with conflicting emotions. She'd only been gone two weeks, and yet, somehow, she felt like a visitor, as though she didn't have a right to be there. Just four days ago, when talking to Daryl, she referred to it as 'home.' But now, having to face the loved ones she'd left behind without so much as a goodbye, her nerves were jangled.
Once before, when she'd left the group, they had been attacked, and she'd always wondered if it would have played out differently if she'd been there to help defend the prison. To be fair, though, that time she hadn't left of her own will and volition. If she'd had her choice, she would have been there fighting alongside her family. This time, she had left by her own choice, and once again, they'd been attacked. She'd seen it coming this time. She hadn't known exactly what or when, but the sense of impending doom was crushing her. And now it was confirmed. Glenn was dead. Glenn and Abraham. She had the sense that something pretty awful had happened to Daryl, too, based upon his demeanor that day. He was like a ghost, a shadow of himself, when he lied and told her everything was fine.
She and Daryl had left many things unsaid; their story was definitely unfinished, and she looked forward to seeing him despite the difficult circumstances. She knew how she wanted the next chapter to read. The soul searching she had done after his departure made up her mind. She had always known she loved him, but now she knew he loved her. She also knew now that he needed her. He was clearly in distress and she hadn't been there for him. Well, no more. From this day forward, she would always be there for him.
The approach of the army from the Kingdom quickly drew a flurry of activity from within the walls of Alexandria. Scott was manning the watch tower. Scott? What the hell was Rick thinking? Well, she supposed, his number of better choices had dwindled. But still, what about Sasha? Maggie? Rosita? Hell, even Eugene was a better option. But Scott it was, and he immediately called for back up. Soon the gate creaked open, revealing Rick pulling on it.
He rushed out, briefly hugging Carol and Morgan on his way to greet Ezekiel.
"Oh my God, you guys came! We didn't expect you. We're unbelievably grateful, just surprised."
"There was an incident at the Kingdom," the King explained. "It became clear that we do indeed need to halt the tyranny of Negan to ensure peace and security for all of our peoples."
"I'm sorry you had some trouble," Rick acknowledged. "But I'm glad you're here. Come in."
Thirty minutes later, Carol sat quietly listening to Rick and Ezekiel debate plans to take on the Saviors. He assured them that a group from the Hilltop would join them, as well as another community Rick found led by someone named Jadis. They would put all the pieces in place over the next few days, then they would take the fight to the Sanctuary, which, as Carol understood it, was the home base of the evil doers.
Truth be told, she was only half-listening. The other half of her attention was focused on watching the comings and going of the curious Alexandrians, scanning the faces for a familiar redneck biker. But he didn't appear.
After the meeting broke up, Rick made arrangements to house the entourage from the Kingdom. Carol decided it was a good time to take her leave and find the people and information she needed. She found a very angry looking Rosita sitting on a curb. Angry at whom? Or what? Carol? Negan? Life? Time to begin her apology tour.
"Hi," Carol said as she stopped before the young woman.
"What? You're one of them now? It's hard to guess what side you're on."
"That's not really fair," Carol told her softly and sat down.
"Really? Where were you?"
"I had to get away. For personal reasons. Let me ask you something. Would it have gone down any differently if I were there?"
"No," Rosita conceded, softening a bit. "They'd still be dead. Daryl would still be in hiding. Maggie, too."
"They're in hiding? From the Saviors?"
"You don't know what happened?"
"All I know is that Negan killed Abraham, Glenn, Spencer and Olivia. I didn't get any details."
"So whoever told you that didn't tell you anything about Daryl, even though you guys have a…" her voice trailed off as though she thought better of finishing that sentence.
"Tell me," Carol prodded. "Please, Rosita."
Rosita's eyes filled with rage again, increasing with each word she uttered.
"It was the day you took off. I was out at the gate, and Daryl went buzzing by on his bike. He didn't say where he was going, but we knew he was going to hunt for Dwight. He probably would've gone hunting you, but we didn't know yet that you were gone. We went after him. Me, Glenn and Michonne. We thought we'd need him here in case the Saviors attacked. Rick didn't want anyone to leave."
"We caught up to him in the woods by the tracks where Denise was killed. Glenn and Michonne did their best to talk him down. No dice. And you know, I thought he was right. I was so pissed that that shit head killed Denise right in front of us, when we were supposed to be there to protect her. So I understood why he needed to set things right, and I went with him while the others went back."
"After a while, Daryl doubled back. Said something smelled fishy. He was right again. Through a break in the trees, we saw Glenn and Michonne bound and gagged. If I ever get the chance, I'm gonna make him give me tracking lessons so I can learn the kinds of things like what tipped him off, how he knew something was up. How he knew we were following him. He's really damn good at it."
"Turns out Glenn and Michonne were just bait. We heard the whistle before we even got close. We were surrounded. Dwight came up behind Daryl. He was lowering his weapon. We were totally cooperating. And still that bastard shot him in the chest. Point blank." She placed a hand over the spot on her chest that corresponded to where Carol had noticed a bandage on Daryl.
Rosita went on to relay the entire nightmarish story to her friend, sparing no details no matter how ugly or painful. So Maggie was hiding out at the Hilltop. Daryl went to Hilltop after he left the Kingdom, but was now 'in the wind' as Rosita phrased it. Sasha was likely a prisoner of the Saviors. And Eugene had been taken, and had refused assistance when it was offered to him.
Rosita, for her part, had gone with Sasha to the Sanctuary but returned home when she couldn't gain egress. The unbridled rage glistening in her eyes was startling, but Carol knew it was rooted in pain and frustration and grief. Abraham may have dumped her like yesterday's garbage, but she still loved him. Love doesn't come with a switch you can flip on and off at will.
Carol sat on the curb after Rosita left, her mind reeling. Everything Rosita told her swirled around her like a tornado, threatening to carry her away. The guilt and grief he must be feeling over Glenn's death broke her heart. Daryl wasn't responsible for what happened, but she knew him well enough to know that he blamed himself. And then to be taken away, imprisoned, tortured…she tried to block the images from her mind. Finally, after all of that crap, he'd had to learn of her flight.
Now it was her turn to feel guilty. She hadn't been there for him when he needed her most. And that was going to eat away at her for a long, long time.
She found her house exactly as she'd left it, minus the mattress of course. Bastards.
Heading back down the stairs, she ran smack into Carl.
"Hey," the boy said. "I'm glad you're back."
"Me, too," she smiled. "I missed you."
"My dad asked me to see if we can use your three spare rooms for the guests."
"You can use all of them, including the master," she replied.
"What-you're not staying?"
"I'm coming back. I just have something I need to do."
"Oh, ok."
She walked past him and he called after her.
"Carol?"
"Yes?"
"You're going to find Daryl, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Good."
( )
Daryl sat on a log devouring the afternoon meal. Today, it consisted of squirrel and grub. He found himself reminiscing about the wholesome, varied meals he'd enjoyed during his time at Alexandria and chastised himself. You're going soft, Dixon. You'll eat what's available and you'll like it. Period. No way could he even begin to allow himself to think about whatever the hell that stew was that Carol made for him.
Seeing her had both given him clarity and broken his heart. She seemed so fragile, so…broken. He'd only seen her like that a couple of times before; once, when she'd asked him to give up his search for Sophia rather than risk his life again for what she was beginning to believe was a lost cause. Then again after Terminus, and throughout their trip to Atlanta to find Beth. That one was a little different, though, he told himself, because then she'd been suppressing her feelings. She'd been so flat, emotionless, haunted. He'd shut her down when she tried to tell him something about those little girls. He thought at the time that he was doing her a favor by not pushing her to talk about something that was obviously painful for her. Now he wasn't so sure. Perhaps she had needed to talk about it, and he had missed an opportunity to help her. This time, she was openly telling him she couldn't cope with the horrors of the new world. She sobbed, begging him to tell her that everything was coming up roses. And so he had.
He lied to her. The conflict raged within him for several long moments before the words spilled out. He wanted so much to take her home with him, to be near her. To have her around for the battle that was to come. But, clearly, that was not what was in her best interest. He simply could not do that to her. He chose between her soul and Negan's head on a platter. When he thought about it that way, the answer had been obvious, and the lie had rolled out of his mouth.
The idea of staying with her, if she would have him, had raced across his mind in those waning moments on her doorstep, but he had to reject it out of hand. If he stayed, the truth would loom larger and larger until it finally escaped. Daryl was simply too straightforward to maintain a deception with Carol. Then there were safety issues to consider. The Saviors had no knowledge of her, but if they should come across her house by chance and find him there they would force him to watch her die. No more members of the family were going to die because of him, especially not Carol.
And so he left her, against the will of every fiber of his being. He wouldn't stay at the Kingdom. Though the 'king' had been kind to offer him asylum, he found all of the royalty and pageantry to be, well, ridiculous. He had no patience for that sort of foolishness. Not to mention the fact that being so close to Carol and not being able to see her or talk to her would be too difficult.
He would go back to Hilltop. Maybe he could be useful there with the preparations for war. That seemed like the best way to help Carol right now; if he could make the world safer, she wouldn't have to kill or fight or worry. Maybe then she could have the peace of mind she so richly deserved.
Daryl wasn't a stupid man; he fully recognized the folly of that line of thinking. After all, there had been a time not so long ago when they thought walkers were the biggest threat. Then along came the Governor. After that, they'd stumbled headlong into Terminus. It all ran together in a blur. The Governor, Joe, Terminus, Grady, the Wolves and now the Saviors. And when the Saviors were extinguished, someone else would come along to threaten them.
He reckoned he'd been fighting for all of his nearly fifty years. And he was tired of fighting. But it was what he knew, and he was good at it. Moreover, they needed him. His family needed him, and he would not let them down. So he would just keep fighting.
He would win this for Carol, to help her feel peace. For Rick, for all the faith and trust the man had placed in him. For Maggie, for the kindness and forgiveness she showed him. For Glenn, for the friendship, and for the brilliant light he'd shone in an ugly world. For Rosita, to help her avenge Abraham and assuage her own guilt over Olivia's death. For Aaron, for the acceptance and welcoming he'd given him. And for Sasha and Michonne and Carl and Tara and Abraham and Denise and the Li'l Asskicker. And, hell, even for Gabriel and Eugene. They were his family, not by birth but by circumstance, and he loved them all dearly.
The decision to leave Hilltop was based on safety concerns. The Saviors had come for some other reason, but had nearly discovered him and Maggie. Had he been found there, innocent people would have paid the price. He couldn't stomach that notion. So he'd taken to the woods, close enough to keep tabs on everything, but far enough away that if he were captured, no one else had to die. When the war began, he would go rejoin the others and take his place alongside them.
Dammit! There just wasn't enough meat on a squirrel to be more than a snack. He'd have to make up the difference with the grubs. As he scouted the ground for telltale signs of the little suckers, he heard a faint sound that made his hair stand on end. Suddenly at full alert, he ducked behind a large tree and waited for the pursuer to get close. When he knew it was close enough, he stepped out and aimed his crossbow at the intruder's face.
"Why you followin' me, asshole?!" He shouted.
