Prologue: Say Goodbye
~Bucky~
The graves were empty, but we still put three boards as headstones where they would be. Natasha and Enid worked together to paint the names of the fallen. Enid painted "Josh" and "Matt," while Natasha's was a bit more personal. Under Clary's name, she painted, "Teach me how to say goodbye."
Clary always had trouble saying goodbye.
Days turned into weeks. Two weeks passed before the survivor's guilt took Alycia. Her girlfriend, Taylor, found her. She had slit her wrists and bled to death in a bathtub. Alycia bit Taylor before she was put down, and Taylor died the following day from the fever.
Three new graves became five.
Not including the dead from the invasions.
Their names were added to the memorial wall. Clary's was painted where Glenn's once was. Glenn was the one that painted it. Alexandria was silent now, bleak ever since she died. Everyone here saw Clary as part of the Avengers, as a hero. Her death hit everyone hard, those that she loved the hardest.
I stopped sleeping, spending most nights walking the streets. I always ended up in the same place. It never took me long to find my way there, and I spent the rest of the night sitting at Clary's grave.
Every day, I walked to Clary's grave. Most of the time I was alone. Occasionally, I ran into Daryl. I ran into others visiting other graves. One day, a month after, I ran into Glenn. It was the first I ever saw him at her grave, even though I knew that he had been there before. I glanced at the graves of Alycia and Taylor, the grass already beginning to grow since they were buried two weeks before. Then, I look up at the sky as the last of the sun dipped below the horizon. I said, "It's been a month already. I still can't believe she's gone."
"We're naming her Clary," Glenn said, then glanced over his shoulder at me. "If it's a girl, we're naming her Clary. Well, Clarissa. Clary for short."
"She'd like that, I think," I said as Glenn turned back to the grave.
"I'm worried about Carl," Glenn told me without looking up from Clary's grave. "He's been falling into a depression. I'm scared he'll hurt himself. I don't want to find him like Alycia."
"Was he like this when his mom died?" I asked.
Glenn shook his head. "The only thing he cared about then was Judith. He took care of her, always has. Beth… Beth helped him out. Rick, he lost it. I mean, you remember how he screamed at Tyreese and Sasha. But Carl?" Glenn sighed. "He grew up real fast that first year. Out on the road, then shooting his own mother before she could turn. After Lori died, he was… cold, I guess. As I said, the only thing he cared about was Judith. Now? He doesn't even acknowledge her. It was never like this."
"I'll talk to him," I promised Glenn, resting my hand on his shoulder. "He's got me worried, too."
"Thank you, Bucky," Glenn said, looking up at me.
I gave him a nod, turning and walking back towards the house. Michonne was in the living room, reading when I entered. She looked up from her book, pausing for a moment before saying, "Glenn said he was heading over. You talk to him?"
"I asked him about Carl," I replied. "He upstairs?"
"Their room," Michonne answered, then paused to correct herself. "His. His room."
"Thanks, 'chonne."
"Tell him supper will be ready in half an hour. He's eating, even if I have to force feed him."
I suddenly got a mental image of Michonne trying to feed Carl whatever she was making for dinner that night. "I'll hold him down," I offered.
Michonne gave me a small smile, but I couldn't return it as I climbed the stairs. I stopped at the first door on the right, knocking on the open door. "Hey, kid."
I got no reply, not even a glance in my direction.
"Can I come in? Carl?"
"Yeah," he said softly, scooting over on the bed as I sat next to him.
"Michonne wanted me to tell you dinner will be ready in half an hour," I told him. "She also threatened to get me to hold you down while she force feeds you if you don't eat."
Carl snorted in amusement, the slight grin fading as he looked down at his hands. "So you talked to Glenn," he said.
"How did you—"
"The door was open. I could hear you talking to Michonne."
"He's worried about you, kid," I said. "We all are. Glenn thinks you're going to try to hurt yourself."
"Why would I?" Carl questioned. "She hurt me enough for the both of us."
I clenched my jaw at the harshness of Carl's voice. He's bitching about Clary being gone as if he's the only one hurting from it. Those two might've been a couple, but they weren't as close as Clary and I were.
"You're not the only one that misses her, Carl," I snapped. "I don't think I've seen Daryl in three days because all he does is take watch on the minuscule chance that she'll walk back in that gate! Glenn and Maggie, they're naming their kid after Clary. And me?" I scoffed as I shook my head at Carl. "You don't know, kid, and you don't want to know. But don't you dare act like you're the only one hurting!"
"She never said goodbye, and now she's gone."
"No one did!" I cried, getting to my feet. "No one said goodbye because we all bet on Clary outlasting us all! But she went out there and she fucking died because of those fucking idiots that should've been in the ground the day this thing started! She didn't deserve to die out there alone! Do you know how many times I've wished that I had been the one out there?! How quickly I would give up my life so that Clary would still be here?! But I wasn't there 'cause I was too damn scared of Hydra to keep the oath I swore!"
I turned and walked out the door, jumping over the railing before I was halfway down the stairs. I didn't look at Michonne as I walked out the door, running down the street as I searched for Daryl. I saw Stark halfway down the street, calling, "Stark! Have you seen Daryl?"
"Yeah, I just talked to him," Stark said as I stopped beside him. "Poor guy's still up on watch. He refuses to leave."
"He stayed up there until he had heatstroke last week," I said. "And he would've stayed if Steve didn't drag him down and to Denise's."
"Maybe you can talk him down," Stark tried.
"Well, there's no promises, considering Glenn just asked me to do the same to Carl and I gave the kid hell for his pity party."
"Luckily for you, Daryl's not the type to have pity parties. He's the stubborn as shit type that stays on watch until he has heatstroke. So get him down before we have to bury the other Dixon."
I left Stark in the street, heading towards the gate. Just as he said, Daryl was on watch, eyes on the road outside of Alexandria. I climbed up, and Daryl finally turned to me when I stopped next to him. "You here to get me to come down?" Daryl questioned, then turned back to the road. "Not happening, Bucko."
"That's not why I'm here," I said. I wrapped my arms around Daryl, hugging him tightly as I squeezed my eyes shut. "I'm sorry, Daryl. I'm so sorry. It should've been me."
