Hello again! Wow, thank you so much for all the follows/favorites/reviews! I am so grateful that you took the time to read, and that you enjoyed it : ) Hopefully I can deliver with this next installment. I'm worried I started off on a high note, ha!
This piece takes place in the prison (again), and I think the story is pretty self-explanatory - no extra info to give. I hope you like it...I've had this idea in my head for a while and I got so excited about writing it that I did it pretty fast so I could share, and now I'm wondering if it translated to words well enough...
I will leave you Carylers with one quick motivational observation: When Daryl got back from that run to get the meds for the sickies, who did he ask about first, you guys? Carol! This is not something we should forget. Not now, not ever.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it. I own nothing having to do with TWD or anyone/anything related to it.
CARYL ON, my friends! oxox
She headed outside in a light jog, a smile on her face, anxious to see what the group had brought back with them this time.
It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining. There was a light breeze. Perfectly spaced out clouds that gave them just the right amount of shade.
Everyone was excited about this run. Maggie and Glenn had found a town nearby that had barely been picked through – they basically had their pick of the litter. Lists were made, a group was assembled, and off they went.
They were only gone for one night – another huge relief.
So Carol headed outside, Beth following behind a little slower, holding Judith, to greet their family.
Carol saw Michonne, Glenn and Maggie unloading boxes from the truck bed, something off about their demeanor. Why weren't they more excited about all their loot?
She glanced around, looking for that one missing piece, her smile fading and her feet slowing upon not finding it right away. It wasn't where it usually was. She spun around, her eyes darting around once more.
Where is it?
She broke into a jog again, heading towards Rick with a look of concern on her face.
Where is his motorcycle?
"Carol –" he started.
"Where's Daryl?" she asked, breathing heavy, trying to quell the knot that was tying her insides into a jumble of nothing.
She would hear him out, and everything would be fine. She'd be worrying for nothing.
"Rick!" she repeated, her voice demanding and frantic. His eyes weren't helping her calm down, not at all. They were making the whole thing worse.
"He, um..." Rick glanced at Michonne then, who had stopped working and was now leaning against the truck, her head down, her face sombre. Her eyebrows furrowed in a way that troubled Carol to no end.
Carol's eyes flitted frantically between Rick and Michonne.
"Someone please tell me," she demanded, her anxious whisper barely making it past the lump in her throat.
"He didn't make it," Rick told her simply.
When Rick looked at Carol, all he saw were her eyes filled to the brim with tears, starting incredulously back at him.
"What do you mean?" She didn't understand.
"Carol –" he tried again.
"I don't understand," she said, shaking her head, looking back towards Michonne. She vaguely registered Maggie and Glenn, standing on the opposite side of the truck, those same solemn looks on their faces.
"He," Rick took a deep, shaking breath. "He was surrounded. We couldn't get to him. I looked away for one second, grabbing my gun, and when I turned back, I couldn't see him anymore. He was just...gone."
Carol's tears stayed put, pooling in her glassy eyes but making no move to fall. She shook her head swiftly.
No, she didn't understand. She couldn't understand.
"That doesn't make any sense," she said, trying to smile, to diffuse the situation. Couldn't they see how ridiculous they sounded?
Rick looked away from her then, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, trying to hold back the sobs that were threatening to escape.
"You didn't see him...die?"
Rick's eyes shot up at her then. The look of confusion on his face was crystal clear.
"Was he bit? Did you see it happen?" she asked again.
How are you not getting this?
"He was gone, Carol," Glenn piped up, his voice shaky. "We couldn't see him anymore."
"We had to get out of there," Maggie added sadly. "We were out of time."
Carol nodded, thinking about all the information they were throwing at her.
"You left him?" She asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
"We had no choice," Michonne whispered back, tears falling down her cheeks.
Carol shook her head. "How could you leave him there?" Her face was incredulous, her voice almost disgusted.
Rick glanced back at the others, not sure what else to say. Carol wasn't getting it. She wasn't understanding what they were telling her. Daryl had died. He was ambushed, swarmed, surrounded. There was nothing they could do.
"I know, Carol. It's hard," he began, putting a hand on her shoulder to comfort her, but she took a step back swiftly, cutting him off.
"You didn't see it. You didn't see it happen," she croaked, her eyes scanning the ground around her.
No.
She began backing away from the group, all eyes on her. And then she turned around and marched back into the prison, passing Beth with Judith, standing there crying after having heard what happened to her friend. Passing Hershel, who reached out to her, but who she ignored.
No.
That night, Carol had planted herself on one of the picnic tables in the courtyard, overlooking the prison yard, overlooking the gates.
She had nothing but her sweater toward her off against the chill. And there she sat, as she had for the remainder of the afternoon and evening, arms crossed over her chest, perfectly still. Skipping dinner, even though Beth had brought her a plate. It sat there still, now, in the middle of the night – closer to dawn than dusk – cold and wasted.
She didn't realize Rick had come to sit beside her until he spoke.
"You need to come inside, it's too cold out here," he told her softly, leaning his elbows on his knees, and looking into her eyes.
She shook her head, not taking her eyes off the gates.
"He might come back."
Rick sighed, letting his head drop.
"Carol, he's gone." His voice was so soft, it almost irritated her. He was trying to placate her, talking to her delicately so as not to set her off.
She shook her head once more.
"You didn't see it," she said simply.
"I didn't need to. I'm glad I didn't."
"Rick," she bit out, her eyes not leaving the gates for an instant. "If anyone could have made it out of that, it's him."
"You're right. But, Carol –"
"You didn't see it," she said with finality, shaking her head once more.
He didn't know what to do. She wouldn't budge. Wouldn't listen to anyone. Not one single person could bring her out of this.
He ran a hand over his face. "We're all here for you, Carol. We'll get through this, we will. We always do."
She didn't move. Didn't respond. Just sat there, looking out towards the gates.
"Rick!" Glenn's voice was loud, shouting at the top of his lungs, from the guard tower.
It brought Rick to his feet in a fraction of an instant. The sheer hysterics of it made Carol's eyes snap up towards where the voice came from.
"What do you see?" Rick yelled back, pacing himself to get help or run to the tower.
And that's when they heard it. That's when Carol's heart pounded so hard she thought for sure it would give out and leave her lying there dead.
The roar of the motorcycle was music to their ears. Rick sprinted into action, running at full tilt towards the gates, ready to open them for his friend – his brother – so he could drive right in.
And Carol rose to her feet on shaking legs. Her breath was heavy, her heart continued to pound hard, and she stared incredulously as the motorcycle approached the opening gates, driving right through.
And then she was moving.
She sprinted harder and faster than she ever had before, running towards him.
He had barely gotten himself off the bike when she slammed into him hard, wrapping her arms around his neck, squeezing with all her might, panting.
And Daryl was frozen from the sheer surprise of the impact, not having even seen her coming in the darkness.
But her scent wafted over him, and it was unmistakably soothing. He closed his eyes and slowly brought his hands up to hold tight to her waist, keeping her firmly against him.
He didn't know what to make of this. Was she okay? She seemed frantic, and he was confused. But he held her there as her loud, deep breaths hit the skin of his neck.
"I thought you were dead," she breathed.
"I'm here," he said softly, still incredulous at how she even ended up in his arms.
"They told me you were dead," she breathed once more, still so overwhelmed with her emotions that she was practically hyperventilating.
"I'm here. I'm okay," he whispered reassuringly.
She pulled back the tiniest bit, letting her hands come to rest on his shoulders, her face an inch from his for the briefest of instants and their eyes locked. And although the moment lasted for a fraction of a second, their proximity and mingling breaths were imprinted in his mind.
Her hands continued their journey as she stepped back, running them along his arms and chest, swift in her examination. His hands remained on her waist until they couldn't reach anymore, her movements making it too hard to hold on.
"No bites? No...scratches?" she gasped.
He shook his head, watching her.
Her hands dropped to her sides in exasperation then and she looked at his face as she stepped back, the tears finally coming with the wave of relief.
She let her head drop as she worked to steady her breathing, stepping towards him once more and laying a hand on his chest.
He brought a hand up to cover hers, still watching her face, and her free hand flew to her mouth to stop the sobs that were sure to escape as she kept her gaze lowered, feeling his heartbeat, steadying her nerves.
And then she turned, her hand dropping from underneath his, and made her way inside the prison.
She walked briskly, Rick and Glenn looking anxiously between one another, as Daryl watched her steadily until he couldn't see her anymore.
I know, I know...what kind of an ending is that?! I really just wanted to focus on the reunion moment. : )
And I have a theory, you guys...I feel like it's a possibility that Daryl might have known what she did, hence his efforts to bring Tyreese on the run with them. I need to re-watch the scene where Rick tells him she's gone, but I feel like his anger was mainly focused on the fact that Rick left her. I dunno...I'm sure I'm wrong (I usually am when it comes to TWD), but it's fun to think about. And I'd like to write something about it, but I can't seem to come up with any type of context. : S
Please let me know what you thought. Later alligators!
