They bury Beth outside of Atlanta. Carol doesn't remember much of it, only the strength of Tyreese's arm supporting her and the sound of Maggie's sobs. She's in and out of consciousness, her heart feeling like lead in her chest even as the rest of her body aches with pain from her accident.
She isn't part of the decision to head for Virginia, she barely registers any of it as sunset finds her being settled carefully inside the back of a white utility van. Tyreese does his best to cushion her from the bumps, and Michonne brackets her other side with silence and strength.
Carol's last thought as her eyes drift closed is that god or not, heaven or oblivion, she hopes Beth and Hershel are together now.
South Carolina
Dum spiro spero (While I breathe, I hope)
It's a few hours before dawn when they cross into South Carolina. A tattered sign marks the border, covered with enough grime to barely be noticeable. Carol is in the passenger seat of the second vehicle, a dark blue minivan that doesn't get very good mileage but is worth the trouble to give them more comfortable sleeping quarters. Rick is stretched out on the bench seat in the back, his head pillowed on his arm and his feet up the window. In front of him, Carl snores softly in the bucket seat behind the driver, his sister cradled carefully against him. Noah is behind Carol, and last she looked, he had his face leaned against the window, staring at the passing scenery between moments of slumber.
Daryl is driving, the crossbow wedged between their seats and when they follow Glenn's vehicle past the sign, he huffs out a small noise, the first he's made since taking over the keys from Rick several hours ago. Carol looks at him silently, knowing he'll share if he wants to. He's too observant not to realize she's awake, the rattling of the road below them shaking her battered body too much to rest.
The silence continues for several miles, and she watches the flex of his forearm where he holds the steering wheel. When he finally speaks, he doesn't look at her, just keeps his eyes on Glenn's tail lights.
"Never been out of Georgia."
He's never told her that, but Carol could have made the assumption. Still, there's a note of anxiety in his quiet admission and she carefully unfolds her legs to sit up properly in the seat. Her muscles protest the stretch, and there isn't a part of her that isn't stiff from her injuries. Daryl's gaze twitches her way just slightly, but she doesn't miss his wince when he realizes how sore she is.
He doesn't say anything. This isn't her comfort, after all.
She reaches out, resting her fingertips against his bicep and circling what she can of his upper arm. Her thumb rubs gently against his skin and Carol focuses on breathing evenly through the throbbing in her ribs.
Daryl doesn't relax into her touch, but he doesn't tense from it either. She doesn't know what to say to soothe him, so she continues the slow movement of her thumb and thinks about how strangely soft his skin is on the inside of his arm. She can feel the strength of his muscles under her hand, knows that he is rough and scraped and weathered from the sun, that he can wield death with his arms. That there is still softness there is a balm.
Carol doesn't move her hand back until Glenn flashes his lights twice to signal a stop, and she withdraws it to her side when Daryl shifts his hand to the blinkers to click the signal to the third vehicle in their convoy. They pull over to consult the map and rotate drivers and Carol carefully extracts herself from the minivan as best as she can.
From the third vehicle, Tyreese comes to her side, quietly offering his arm to help her down and she manages a small smile at his quiet strength. She hangs back, leaning against the minivan as Maggie and Rick and Abraham discuss their route. The sun is peeking out from the horizon and she closes her eyes, focusing again on her breaths.
"Seems like it should feel different."
She hadn't heard him approach, but when she opens her eyes, Daryl stands before her, the crossbow on his shoulder. He doesn't give her a chance to reply, merely jerks his head towards the tree line.
"Gonna hunt."
Carol nods tiredly, and he hesitates a moment before reaching out and squeezing her upper arm the way she'd done to him. The touch is a little too firm, but she can feel the warmth of his hand radiating through her shirt long after he's pulled away and slipped off into the trees.
Not different at all.
North Carolina
Esse quam videri (To be, rather than to seem)
Carol is asleep when they cross into North Carolina.
They'd lost the minivan the same day they'd gotten out of Georgia and she's pressed into the back seat of a small white sedan with Glenn and Maggie. Rick is driving, and Tyreese is beside him with Judith in his lap. The girl's giggles rouse Carol and she's surprised to see the sun is already up. Beside her, Maggie is curled into Glenn's chest and her foot is lodged painfully against Carol's ribs but the girl needs sleep more than Carol needs to be comfortable so she doesn't dare adjust and risk waking her.
The soft murmur of Tyreese cooing at Judith and the little girl giggling and pulling at his hat puts a lump in Carol's chest and before long it isn't Maggie's foot to her side that has her insides twisting up.
It's like they're on a family vacation. Judith has no car seat and they can't stop for drive thru burgers but the quiet levity of the moment makes her think of driving away from the CDC in the back of the Cherokee, when her little girl had been snug to her side and her head rested on Carol's shoulder. She'd smelled fresh from her shower and despite herself, Carol closes her eyes and inhales as though everything Sophia will flood her senses.
All she finds is the staleness of death and the dryness in her throat and she blinks forcefully to keep herself from allowing tears to form.
The car sputters to a stop and Rick groans, smacking the steering wheel with his palm. Maggie's foot digs a little more into Carol's side when she wakes, but she doesn't notice Carol's grimace as they all carefully get out of the vehicle. Ahead of them, Michonne stopped her car when she realized they'd stopped and Carl hops out of the passenger seat and jogs back towards them. Sasha pulls over behind them and before long, the car's hood is up with Abraham and Daryl muttering at each other underneath it.
They're on a back road without any other vehicles in sight, and Glenn and Rosita are studying the map with worried murmurs.
"Fucking worthless," she hears Daryl snap and Abraham slams the hood down, the sound echoing around them.
They won't all fit in the other two vehicles, and Carol sighs as Rick declares that he, Sasha and Tyreese are going to scout a ways to try and find another vehicle. Judith is handed off to her brother and Tara and Maggie start rationing their meager food supplies into some semblance of a lunch while they wait for Rick's group to return.
Leaning against the side of the dead car, Carol eats a third of a stale granola bar and washes it down with two indulgent gulps of water.
A shadow falls over her, and she doesn't need to see his tied off ankles to know who stands in front of her. Tiredly, she lifts her head to see Daryl looming over her, a bite of his granola ration in his fingers, extended towards her.
She shakes her head, opening her mouth to tell him he needs it more. He has to keep his strength up, be ready to protect them if they come upon anyone out in the open. She's still too sore and battered to be much use in a fight, but before the words can form he takes her wrist and all but shoves the bite of granola into her palm.
"Won't heal if you ain't eating," he mutters, fidgeting with the strap of his crossbow as soon as his hands are free. Despite the nerves in his fingers, he levels a heavy look down at her until Carol sighs and reluctantly puts the bite of food in her mouth.
Daryl nods once, his knuckles going white as he watches her chew and swallow. Even after the dry granola is in her stomach, he keeps looking at her with that unreadable expression and Carol raises her eyebrows.
"What?" She briefly considers sticking her tongue out to prove she actually ate the food but Daryl just nods again and steps back from her.
"Gonna hunt," he says, his tone somewhere between a growl and resignation and then he's off towards the tree line and Carol leans her head against the car again.
The extra bite of food does make her feel better.
Virginia
Sic semper tyrannis (Thus always to tyrants)
"Virginia is for lovers," Tara proclaims from the passenger seat as Carol drives past a sign welcoming them into the state.
Daryl snorts from behind her and Carol glances at him through the rear view mirror..
"What's that even supposed to mean?" Tara muses. "Are lovers not allowed anywhere else? Can single people not come to Virginia?"
"Stop the car," Sasha's voice is a little too loud in the small vehicle and Carol quickly signals the rest of their caravan and pulls over to the side. Before she can ask what's wrong, Sasha slams out of the backseat and stalks towards where her brother climbs out of the second vehicle.
Tara lets out a long-suffering sigh and runs a hand through her hair. "We've all lost people, she doesn't get a monopoly on being heartbroken," she mutters, but there's no feeling behind it. "I'll go see if Rosita has room in her car."
Daryl groans loudly when she's gone, rubbing his palms over his eyes and muttering something about everyone's damn period syncing up.
"Not mine, don't worry," Carol turns in her seat, the movement much easier than it had been two weeks ago. She unbuckles her seatbelt and peers at him from around the driver's seat. "The apocalypse ended that for me back at the prison."
"Christ, I don't fuckin' want to know about that shit," Daryl protests, but she can see the blush creeping up his neck even as he keeps rubbing at his eyes.
Carol laughs, and while her ribs ache a little at the movement, the sheer unexpectedness of the moment makes her smile. "Oh come on, it just means you can..." she trails off purposely, biting her lip to see if he'll rise to the bait.
"Means I can what?" he grumbles after a pause, dropping his elbows to his knees and picking at the seam on the side of his pants.
Carol beams at him. "Means you can stick it to me without a condom."
There's a moment of stunned silence in the car and she can't bring herself to feel bad for teasing him, not when the lightness in her chest feels so foreign and welcome.
"Stop," Daryl mutters, before biting out a somewhat anguished "Fuck."
"That's what I was suggesting!"
Daryl kicks the back of her seat like a petulant child and Carol dissolves into giggles at his expense. Before she can take the teasing any further, the car doors open and Tyreese slides into the seat Sasha had vacated. Father Gabriel joins Carol in the front with nothing but a slight nod to acknowledge her.
"What's so funny?" Tyreese asks, his big smile seeming to light up the whole car.
"Nothin," Daryl snaps, fidgeting on the seat until he's staring out the window and pointedly ignoring everyone else.
Carol meets Tyreese's eyes in the mirror as she puts the car back into drive and he grins at her, a little knowingly. For a moment it's like they're back at the prison, like there's been no sickness and no attack and no Lizzie and Mika and Terminus and Grady. For a moment, Carol feels like maybe she'll be able to fit her heart around the heaviness that settles inside of it and put herself back together.
She can talk to Tyreese, she can tease Daryl, and the rest of her family might bicker like siblings but there's a love between them all that Carol can't help but feel.
The past is a tyranny, but they're only a day or so from Noah's home and for the first time on their journey, Carol lets herself feel hope.