A/N: Already started posting this over on ninelives but figured I could post it here too ;) This is gonna be very angsty so bear with me...I got intrigued by the theme of nightmares that I explored before and decided to dedicate a bigger, multi-chapter fic to it. I hope you'll enjoy it!
Haunted
Prologue:
Her head was pounding, her eyelids were heavy, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a decent night's sleep.
Nowadays it wasn't the walkers that startled Carol awake, it wasn't the shuffling of the dead that had her reaching for her knife, it was the humans that posed the real threat. The simplicity of the infected made them predictable and easy to deal with but there were insanities the human mind could conjure up that weren't as straight forward to combat.
Carol didn't consider herself to be an exception.
Over the last couple of months, she had done things that had her questioning her own sanity. Would her old self have even imagined killing and burning two people? Or shooting a little girl in the back of the head?
Her lips curled into a bitter smile.
No.
Back then her main concern had been how to become a better wife to Ed, how to change so he'd stop hurting her and their daughter. It was almost funny how simple these concerns seemed now. If she had known then what kind of things she was truly capable of, would she have taken her child and left? Or would she have lost her grip as well and killed Ed?
Evening settled around her and the grove continued to lie empty and deserted. It would've been peaceful, had there not been so many demons dancing around. Little blonde girls with flowers in their hair twirling around in the grass until their movements became clumsy, mechanical, inhuman. Their laughter turned to screeches, their pretty faces deformed into grimaces of the dead.
Carol blinked and slowly the image swam away.
Perhaps it would have been better to continue on to Terminus with Tyreese and Judith, in hopes that the company of people would chase those nightmares away? But she felt a sickening bond to the place where she had experienced her latest heartache and found it impossible to move on. More blonde girls she hadn't been able to protect. Perhaps it was only fair punishment that she was to remain with them now.
Just when her chin started to sag against her chest, the creaking of the makeshift fence jerked her awake again. It seemed like years since she had last heard such a sound. Wiping her eyes, she reached for her knife and pushed herself out of the old rocking chair. But when she peered out of the window there was no walker in sight.
Instead of feeling relief, she only tightened the grip on her knife and slowly stalked towards the hallway. The creaking of the door confirmed her suspicions and she pressed herself against the wall, holding her breath.
Someone had entered the house.
Carol closed her eyes and listened to light, quiet footsteps that clashed with heavy, pained breathing. They were injured, whoever they were. This would either make them an easy target or a supremely difficult one, as Carol knew it would be foolish to underestimate someone who was fighting for their life.
As the footsteps drew nearer, she pressed herself closer to the wall, hoping to use the shadows to her advantage. She counted inwardly and then lunged at the intruder, but the man was stronger and had her pinned down beneath his body within seconds.
Recognition struck.
"Daryl?" she asked incredulously. The man startled away from her as if he, too, had just seen a ghost.
"Ya almost killed me."
The familiarity of his voice tugged at her heart. When Rick had abandoned her at the side of the road she'd accepted that she'd never hear it again, would never have another opportunity to make him smile; and judging by the look in his eyes, the sheer relief and joy that shone through the mist of pain, he had reached the same conclusion. Instead of putting her at ease, however, his reaction only caused her to recoil at the risk of getting attached to him again.
"What do you expect?" she shot back, pulling herself to her feet so she could take a closer look.
His face was badly bruised and he was clutching his side and despite her best efforts and previous sentiments it was impossible not to care. Her eyes swept over his body once more, pondering if these injuries stemmed from the attack at the prison or if they could've been caused by walkers. But before he had the chance to answer, his laboured breathing reminded her of the urgency of the situation.
"Never mind…" she shook her head. "Let's get you patched up first."
