Disclaimer: The Walking Dead and all related characters are the sole property of AMC. I own nothing but a love of drama and a Daryl Dixon bobblehead. I make no money from my writing, so please don't sue me.
For the purpose of this story, please disregard the event of 3/15 and 3/16. It this version of events, The Governor and his soilders were defeated, eliminating their threat from the group. The remains of the Woodbury group have still moved into the prison after the death of their leader and Andrea is still dead because, well, I hated Andrea. Please take the time to follow and review. I love nothing more than to hear your thoughts and suggestions. With that out of the way, read on and enjoy.
Nearly 5 months had passed since the showdown with the Governor and his army. Beating the odds, the small group of survivors had emerged victorious. The prison had been heavily damaged, but they had slowly rebuilt and now the shelter was more secure than ever. They had rid the tombs of any walkers that remained, clearing out and securing the rest of the cell blocks to accommodate their new residents. The inclusion of the Woodbury survivors into their own tight knit group had been uneasy at first, no one truly knowing who to trust. But as the time passed, the two groups had found themselves becoming one. They had found that they all wanted the same things, shared the same goals. All these people wanted from the hell that they now called their world was a sense of safety, security and community. Now that they possessed these things, life was slowly becoming something that almost resembled normal. Everyone had found their own roles in the community, whether it was as a protector, a healer, a hunter, or a nurturer. Even the elderly members of the group contributed in their own way, pitching in to help care for the children or prepare a meal. They had become a family in their own right, and the life they shared with each other was the closest they could have come to finding peace in this shattered world. Though they had to remain on guard, everyone had come to find their own sense of happiness. Almost everyone.
From his perch in the tower high above the prison yard, Daryl could see a lot of things. The few biters that always seemed to be lurking just beyond the fence, unable to get through. The people he now considered his family going about their days, performing their various chores seemingly unaffected by the horrors that lie outside their walls. Hershel, Beth, Maggie, and a few others were clearing a large parcel of land for the vegetable garden they had planned. After a long winter, spring was finally upon them and everyone seemed to be in good spirits as they enjoyed the warm Georgia sunshine. Carl was helping a few of the elderly women look after Judith and the half dozen other small children that were now part of the group. Daryl couldn't help but smile as he saw the grin on the young man's face as he was tackled to the ground by a two especially rambunctious toddlers. It was nice to see Carl getting a chance to just be a kid again. After the events of the past year, they had all feared that some essential part of the boy's humanity had been lost for good, but he had surprised them all when he had stepped up and offered to take responsibility for the youngest members of the group. Satisfied that all was well, he scanned the yard a few time before his eyes came to rest on the one thing he found himself watching more and more. Carol was alone on the outskirts of the group, sitting quietly on a small blanket, needle in hand as she worked to mend the small pile of clothes beside her. Her face held a small smile as she sewed, her motions almost robotic. Poke the fabric, pull the needle, poke the fabric, pull the needle. She was always working, quietly busying herself with one thing or another. That was how she appeared to the group, as the meek, sweet woman who served their meals and cleaned their clothes. But not to Daryl. He didn't know what it was yet, but something was not quite right with her. She had come so far since they had met, transforming from a scared little mouse to a woman who was outspoken and fiercely protective of her makeshift family. But things had changed since their confrontation with the Governor. She had been welcoming to the new people at first, constantly rushing around to make sure that everyone was comfortable and had what they needed. She hadn't even complained about the extra work. Her new found sense of purpose had brought a brightness to her smile that he had never seen before. But as the time passed the brightness had faded, leaving behind a smile that now seemed forced. Her actions hadn't changed. She still cleaned, still cooked, still made conversation. But her heart didn't seem to be in it. It was almost as if she was regressing into her former self. She was no longer the Carol he had come to know and admire, but the small damaged woman she had been when they had first met, so long ago at the camp in Atlanta. And though he hated to admit it, he missed her. She hardly spoke to anyone anymore, but it almost seemed like she was trying to avoid him in particular. Long gone were her teasing comments and comforting looks. Whenever their paths crossed these days, she did her best to avoid eye contact and spoke only in one or two word answers. He had tried so many times to talk to her, but he could never seem to find the words. He was no good with this kind of thing. He sat there for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. He shook them away as he saw the truck approaching the gate.
Signaling down to the young man on guard, the gate was opened allowing the vehicle to enter. Pulling up outside the cell blocks, Rick, Glenn and Michonne exited the cab, pulling a tarp off of the large pile of supplies they had salvaged. Pallets of cans and boxes were quickly unloaded, followed by large bags containing clothes and linens that they had desperately needed. A few of the residents had gathered around the truck to collect the items they had personally requested. Medication, diapers, and toys for the children were the most commonly requested items, but they did get the occasional request for something a bit more unusual. One of the older women named Agnes had a standing order for chewing gum, and anytime they were able to find some to bring back for her it brightened her whole mood. Another one of their elderly members, a man named Lenny, asked for cigars every time that a run was made, only to be disappointed when they were unable to find any. Daryl chuckled under his breath as he watched the old man walk away empty handed. He was a persistent one, that man. Daryl was surprised to see that Carol had moved from her place on the blanket and was approaching the group unloading the truck. She stopped and looked around for a moment before making her way over to Michonne. He watched as she leaned over slightly and said something that he wasn't quite able to make out. Michonne stepped away for a moment, reaching into the cab of the truck and retrieving a small blue bag which she handed to a nervous looking Carol. Carol thanked her quietly and quickly rushed into the prison. "What the hell was that about?" Daryl thought out loud. He didn't have time to think about it for long, as he looked out and saw a group of about 30 walkers making their way towards the fence. Tired of sitting still for so long, the small herd was a welcome distraction. He whistled a warning to the group below, alerting them to take the children inside. The little ones didn't need to see what was about to go down.
Slinging his crossbow over his shoulder, he made his way down from his perch to where some of the more capable members of the group had formed. "Ya'll ready?" he asked as he unsheathed his long buck knife. They all nodded, clutching their various weapons. "You all know the drill, get them through the fence, use your gun only as a last resort." They all agreed before spreading out along the fence line, banging their weapons against the links and shouting, enticing the walkers to come closer. It didn't take long to dispatch the biters. Daryl could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins, having killed at least ten of them himself. Once the threat was gone, they worked to collect the bodies, depositing them at a secluded area inside the fence. They would have to wait until morning to dispose of them however, as the sun was beginning to set. Daryl sent the others off, thanking them for their help as the headed inside. Quickly covering the pile with a large tarp, he double checked the gate, making sure it was secured. Satisfied that they were safe for another night, he collected his things and made his way into the prison to settle down for the night. Entering the common area that doubled as their kitchen, he found a happy scene as everyone sat around eating their supper and talking. A delicious smell suddenly filled his nostrils, and he glanced over to the stove to see Carol standing there dishing out stew to the latecomers. Her eyes met his for a brief moment, and he gave her a small smile, but she quickly averted her gaze and focused back on the task before her. He stood there for a moment, slightly dejected, but tried to shrug it off. After a quick trip to his cell to drop off his things and clean up a bit he returned to the kitchen, now completely famished. He walked to the stove, but instead of finding Carol there, he found a large bowl filled with food. Assuming it was left for him, he grabbed it, quickly finding a seat and devouring the meal. He had to give Carol credit, the woman could turn the most unappealing food into something wonderful. He inhaled the last few bites, leaving the dish with the two women who stood at the sink washing up. He was exhausted, and now that his stomach was full he was ready to turn in for some much needed rest. Bidding goodnight to the few people who were left in the common area, he turned to make his way to his cell. He was interrupted however as Rick called his name, beckoning him to come over to where he sat holding Judith in his lap.
"Daryl, I just wanted to thank you for taking care of the situation with the herd today." Rick said, looking up from where his daughter was playing with a small rattle.
"Don't need to thank me, just doing my job." Daryl replied, clearly uncomfortable with the praise.
"Yeah, but having Carl bring the children inside, that was something else. That was above and beyond your responsibilities. That is what I wanted to thank you for."
"Just didn't want the little ones to see that. They're just babies, gotta let them be babies a little while longer before they need to see that shit."
Daryl stood there for a moment, thinking back to the things he had seen as a child. No one deserved to grow up with that kind of shit in their head. Shaking the thought away, he glanced down to where Lil Asskicker sat, the little girl shaking the rattle and giggling. He reached down to ruffle her blond curls before looking back up to her father.
"Did ya need anything else? Cause I'm pretty beat right now." Daryl asked, the fatigue clearly visible on his face.
Rick reached over to pat him on the arm. "No brother, didn't need anything. Go get some sleep." he said, refocusing his attention on the little girl in his lap.
"Alright, g'night then." Daryl said as he turned to leave.
"Oh hey, Daryl?" Rick called just before he could reach the door.
Daryl turned around, anxious to get to the end of this so he could go hit the sack. "Yeah?"
"Have you seen Carol? She was here before and I needed to ask her something, but next thing I knew she was gone."
Daryl shook his head. "Haven't seen her since I came in. If I see her , I'll send her your way." he offered.
"Thanks man. Goodnight."
Daryl nodded in response as he left, making his way back to his cell. He had to pass by Carol's cell to get to his and he was surprised to find that it was empty, the makeshift curtain still open. "Where the hell is she?" he wondered as he entered his own cell. He dropped down onto the cot, laying his head back against the thin pillow. His whole body was calling for him to sleep, but his mind just didn't want to cooperate. He couldn't stop thinking about Carol. Her strange behavior had been concerning enough, but now here she was, going off alone at night. He tried to silence his mind, but in the end his curiosity got the better of him. He wasn't going to be able to sleep until he found her. He rolled off the cot, stopping to grab his knife before exiting his cell to begin his search. He quietly made his way out of their cell block, turning down the corridor that led further into the prison. He checked out the few offices and storerooms along the way, but still found no sign of her. He soon found himself outside of the shower room. He could hear that the water was running, and he felt a small surge of hope that he had finally found her. He entered the room, calling her name softly. When he heard no reply, he moved further into the room. He was about to call her name again, but stopped when he heard the noise coming from the stall. Barely audible above the noise of the shower was the sound of someone crying. Deep guttural sobs, slightly muffled as if the person crying was covering their mouth. A feeling of panic began to spread through him. He called her name, a little louder than he had intended to. The sound of the shower immediately stopped, as he heard a small voice respond in a tone that could only be described as fearful. "Who's there?
Daryl was relieved that he had finally found her, but was shaken by what he had just heard. He had heard Carol cry before, and it had never been that intense. He answered her softly, not wanting to upset her further. "It's just me. It's Daryl. Rick sent me to find you."
"Okay, just give me a second." she called out, her voice strained.
Daryl could feel the heat begin to rise in his cheeks as she exited the stall, clad only in a towel, droplets of water still clinging to her pale skin and her now almost chin length hair dripping down her neck. Forcing himself to look away, he spun on his heel, turning his back to her as he stammered out an apology. "Um…I'm sorry…..I didn't mean to interrupt you….I just…Rick was looking for you."
Carol quickly dried herself and slipped into the clean clothes she had brought with her. "You can turn around now." she said quietly.
Daryl turned around to find her fully dressed, wearing a pair of red plaid sleep pants and a black tank top. Even in the simple outfit, Daryl couldn't help but find her beautiful. He sought her eyes out, but found that she was looking down intently at the floor.
"What did Rick need?" she asked quietly.
"He didn't say actually." he replied. "Just said he wanted to ask you something. He was down in the kitchen with Jude last time I saw him."
Carol moved to gather her things from the bench, wrapping her dirty clothes up in her towel along with her shower supplies. "I'll go find him." she said, her eyes never leaving the floor. "Thanks for letting me know."
Daryl watched as she rushed to leave the room, walking right past him but never once making eye contact. He wanted to stop her, to ask her why she had been crying, why she wouldn't talk to him. But she was gone before his mouth had a chance to catch up with his brain. He was about to head back to his cell when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Walking over to the bench, he bent to pick up the small object that must have fallen from Carol's things. Turning it over in his hand, he examined it closely as his eyes began to widen. He may not know much about women, but he had watched enough TV before the world ended to know what this was.
Daryl stood there for a moment as his brain tried to process this discovery. His mind was clouded with a strange mixture of emotions, ranging from curiosity to concern to a slight flash of anger. He pushed the thoughts away as he slipped the small white stick into his pocket. He left the room, walking back down the corridor to his cell. When he reached it, he quickly shed his clothes, removing the stick from his pocket and placing in on the small table he had set up in the corner of the room. Dropping down onto his bed, he rolled to his side to give one last look at the small white item that was practically glowing in the moonlight. He turned back onto his back, throwing the thin blanket over himself as he began to drift off to sleep, one thing repeating over and over in his brain.
Carol was pregnant.