Title – When All You Have is How You Live
Warnings – Spoilers up to last episode
Rating – T
Summary – Daryl and Carol talk about Merle, and Daryl confesses their original plan to rob the camp. Daryl/Carol friendship and support.
Disclaimer – I don't own The Walking Dead.
When All You Have is How You Live
Daryl's return to the prison was a tense one. Everyone knew what had happened by the look on his face, and most had no idea how to react. Carol watched as he kept his head down and stormed through the cell block to the far corner of the upper level, disappearing into an unoccupied cell.
Nobody had said a thing. There wasn't anything to say. Merle was gone, and Daryl was definitely feeling it. They knew they had to be sensitive to his grief, and yet there was a potent sense of relief hanging in the air. Glenn was two steps away from throwing a party, and Maggie seemed relieved it was all over. Hershel, though not a vindictive man, seemed similarly content with the new status quo. They all felt for Daryl, they all loved him, but they hated Merle.
Carol just felt her heart breaking as she looked up at the cell door. Merle may have been a mess, but he was Daryl's mess, and she didn't ever want to see him go through the pain of losing a loved one. She knew the feeling all too well.
The group opted to leave Daryl be, knowing what kind of a mood he'd be in and looking to avoid it. They kept their voices down, so as not to disturb him. They cooked and ate in silence, and retreated to their cells to gather their belongings and prepare for the next day. They would leave the prison, and all of the safety it provided them, not to lose even one more member of their family. It was a good trade-off, Carol thought. They'd survived a long time on the outside, they could do it again.
Sometime during the evening Rick had gone up to offer what little condolence he could, and make Daryl aware of the group's decision to leave. Carol could tell by Rick's demeanour when he exited the cell that it hadn't gone well. She wasn't surprised. Daryl was fiercely loyal. He'd defend his brother, or any of them, to his dying breath.
It had been hours since then. Hours and nobody had heard a peep from the cell. Carol was of two minds as she gathered a plate of food to bring up to the man who had become her closest ally in all of this: one, she wanted to make sure he kept his strength up, but two, more importantly, she wanted him to know she was there for him. He wasn't alone, no matter what he undoubtedly thought at this particular juncture.
With a steadying breath, she made her way up the stairs and down the dark catwalk to the cell Daryl had claimed. She turned the corner and found him witling the end of a bolt for his crossbow with his knife. He spared her the briefest of glances before returning to his work.
"Brought you some dinner," she said quietly, setting the plate on a small table next to the cot. He didn't look up from the bolt he was sharpening.
"Ain't hungry," he mumbled.
"I'll leave it in case you change your mind." His eyes stayed downcast. Carol gave a small nod, more to herself than to him, and turned to leave the cell. She stopped when his voice reached her ears.
"Do you think he deserved it?" She frowned. Of all the questions to ask. Staying in the doorway, she turned back to him.
"Nobody deserves that." She tried to gauge his angle, but he was closed off.
"Everybody else thinks so," he scoffed, dropping the bolt into his lap and finally looking up at her. "They ain't goin' say it, but they're thinkin' it. Glenn, Maggie. Hell, even Rick. They're all glad he's gone."
"That's not true," she attempted.
"Yeah it is." He bit the inside of his cheek before deciding, "Don't matter anyhow, what they think." Carol tried to bite back the question, but it escaped her lips before she could.
"What do you think?" she asked. Daryl frowned.
"I dunno," he said, honestly. The pain was evident in his eyes. "He was a bad guy, right? I mean, what he did to Glenn, Michonne... hell, what he did to T-Dog back in Atlanta."
Carol sighed and took a few steps back into the room, leaning herself against the wall opposite to the cot.
"Daryl..." she attempted to gather her thoughts. "I won't say your brother didn't have some things to make up for. He's done wrong by a lot of folks here, but he didn't get a chance to make it right."
"You think he coulda been different?" he asked quietly.
"I think he loved you," she clarified. "And I think he did what he did today because of that. He probably never woulda been all sugar 'n sweetness, but I think he woulda done what he had to do to make things right with us. He'd a done it for you."
Daryl took a long breath and allowed silence to follow. Carol pushed off the wall and took a few steps in his direction, sitting down on the edge of the cot and putting a hand on his forearm in a show of silent support.
"We were gonna rob the camp," Daryl said suddenly. Carol's brow furrowed. "Back when this all started. Merle n' I were gonna grab what we could carry and light out one night." Carol could see a deep sense of shame in his eyes as he confessed this to her, but felt none of the anger he expected from her.
"You didn't do it," she offered. He scoffed.
"Yeah, but we were gonna. Ain't that enough?" he pushed.
"If we started putting ourselves on trial for bad thoughts we'd all have been dead a hundred times over," Carol said simply.
"Ain't the same thing," he protested.
"Look," she said, her voice more firm. "I don't know much about who you were, Daryl. But I know who you are. This world bein' what it is, all we've got is how we choose to live, and far as I'm concerned, you're doin' just fine." She reached out to touch his face, ignoring his flinch at the sudden movement and resting her palm gently against the stubbled skin of his cheek. "You've changed since I've known you. Merle might'a changed too if he had the chance. Don't let anyone else tell you different. Not even yourself." Pain once again flashed in his eyes, breaking Carol's heart for him.
"I dunno what to do now," he admitted quietly. She stroked his cheekbone with her thumb, pleased when he leaned into the touch.
"Just keep doin' what you've been doin'. It's all you can do."
"That ain't a big help," he said. Carol grinned a little at the joke and pulled her hand back, sensing the conversation was coming to an end.
"I know. But it works," she insisted. "Do you trust me?" He nodded without a moment's hesitation. "Then keep doin' what you've been doin'. Merle, he'd a wanted you to keep kickin' ass and takin' names." Daryl let out a small chuckle at that, the sound a welcome relief from the tension.
"Sounds like him," he allowed. Carol smiled and patted him on the arm before standing up from the cot. She gestured to the food.
"Eat your dinner, Dixon. We've got a big day tomorrow."
She turned to leave, only to be stopped once more.
"I'm gonna kill the Governor," Daryl said. She turned back to him. "I know you all wanna leave, but I gotta do it. I owe it to my brother." She nodded her understanding.
"I'll talk to Rick about backin' you up," she offered. He nodded and picked the bolt and his knife back up, effectively ending the conversation. With one last look back at the broken man, Carol stepped out of the cell, returning to the group to see about a man with a gun.
End
A/N: I'd love to see a moment like this in the finale. I just want to see Carol support Daryl through this.
Hope you liked it. Let me know