Daryl had only continued to get worse. Lizzie had the car ready with pillows and blankets so he would be comfortable, and lots of rags just in case he started to cough up blood like some of others at the prison had, and Carol had gone to get some more water. When she returned, she boiled it and used some for drinking and some for cooling Daryl down once the water got cold. Well, as cold as it could get. Lizzie was packing the last few things in the car, Carol wiped away more sweat from Daryl's brow, trying to wake him up, but he was in and out of consciousness at that point. He began to cough; Carol sat him up and used the moist cloth to cover his mouth. No blood came up, but he was too pale for her comfort.
"Let's get you back to the prison." She stroked his hair. "You have to stand up. Lean on me."
His eyes opened a bit. "Ain't gonna let a cold best me."
She smiled. "Good. I'd hate to see a glorified cold best you." She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, very like she used to do to Sophia to check her fever. It wasn't as bad, but it wasn't breaking either. "All right. Stand—"
"Carol!" Lizzie ran into the room. "You gotta come see this! Now!"
Daryl tried to join them, but Carol made him stay, and he could barely stand to make an argument. They went to the living room; Lizzie pulled the curtain back and showed Carol she saw. Outside the window were a group of men, and not a search party group of men. They were more like a group of raging alcoholic rapists who probably loot and murder for fun. They had the look for it. She'd hidden her car behind the house with branches and a few loose bushes, so no matter how this went down, they could easily escape. However, the front door of this house was not made of steel. They would get in here, searching for food, clothes, water, bullets, possibly even women, men and children. They couldn't just lay low and let this play out.
"Shit." She overheard their conversation, but only bits and pieces. They were going to get a few more men then come back and check out the houses. Four men would stay, and four men would go. They positioned themselves at the exit of town with heavy artillery. The four men left and the others broke up: two were at the only paved exit and two were watching the houses for any movements. Mostly, they were going to screw around until the others returned. Two of the men left to go for food, so that just left the two that were the furthest away from the house she'd picked. "Okay, let's get Daryl to the car."
They hurried to his room, Carol threw the blankets back, shoved his shoes on as gently and quickly as she could and helped him out of the bed. He could barely walk, but he did his best as to lessen her burden. She wasn't physically strong, just working on mentally and emotionally. Once outside, Lizzie opened the door to the car, Carol eased him into the backseat of the car, moving his legs to be able to shut the door silently. She cracked the windows so he would have air, and then she bit her lip and decided now was a good of time as any to teach Lizzie how to shoot a gun. They went the second floor, Carol wished Daryl was consciousness enough to shoot, but that would be asking for too much. She pushed that to back of her mind and focused on the men. They were smoking, making light conversation, and she shot the one in the back of the head then quickly tried for the other, but it missed and hit the car. He took cover and the others were probably running back.
She and Lizzie waited as the men scrambled back into the town, Carol shot one in the thigh, Lizzie mostly missed, so she told her to stop and just look out for walkers and men. Carol couldn't get the other two as they hide behind the cars, the otherwas bleeding and screaming in the street, ring the dinner bell basically.
"Walkers!" Lizzie exclaimed. "A lot of walkers."
"Get to the car." She pulled the gun back inside and dismantled it. "Go!"
Lizzie hesitated, but went to the car, and climbed into the passenger seat. "Daryl? Oh, God, Daryl?"
He turned his head. "Carol?"
She shook her head. Not dead. He's not dead. "She's coming."
Carol exited the house and cleared off the remaining branches. Gunfire filled the small town, distracting them from Carol, Lizzie and Daryl. Carol started the car and drove into the wooded area, telling Lizzie and Daryl to hold on as best they could. It was a bumpy path. Lizzie buckled up and Daryl gripped the back of the seat as much as he could. She pulled into the road once they were clear of the gunshots. She quickly headed away from there, toward the prison.
As the drive went on Daryl coughed more and more, groaning and Carol tried to slow down, but he demanded she not pity him. Or that's what they thought he said. It was a bit garbled. Carol's only hope of him surviving was that he wasn't coughing up blood. She drove faster and finally...Daryl couldn't take much more, so she pulled over and soaked a cloth with water and placed it on his face. She was partly straddling his lap as she did so, Lizzie keeping an eye out for walkers, and Daryl relished in the coolness of the cloth, but it only went so far. He was so jacked up on expired medicine his eyes were dilated. She couldn't exactly stop feeding it to him. It seemed to be helping.
"Okay, Lizzie, could you hand a few dry clothes?" She wiped his brow off and rested the cloth as his neck, Lizzie handed her a few clothes, and she wiped the sweat off his skin and brushed his bangs back.
His blue eyes met hers. He spoke incoherently, but she made out, "Always pictured this... Never with you on top, but...still."
She blushed slightly and shook her head. It's the fever talking. She reached for a bottle of water from the trunk and saw just how many walkers had taken notice of them. "Shit." She turned to Lizzie. "Get in the driver's seat."
"What?!"
"Do it now!"
She climbed over and gripped the wheel, palms sweating. "Now what?" She turned the key in the ignition and looked back at Carol.
"Push the right pedal."
She nodded and used the right pedal; the car lurched forward, and she gasped, heart pounding. Oh, God.
"Keep pushing it, Lizzie."
Lizzie pushed it and drove, gripping the wheel with a white knuckle grip.
"Turn!" Carol cried as she gripped the seat.
"Okay." She turned the corner sharply, Carol was lurched forward, and Daryl hit his head on the window, but Carol's breasts softened the next blow when they threw back. "Sorry! Sorry!"
"Damn, kid." Daryl coughed. "Don't needa concussion."
"Keep it steady, Lizzie." Carol felt sick to her stomach. Thank God Lizzie wouldn't ever have to deal with other peoples' road rage. She would be scared to see that. She tended to Daryl's sweat once more then told Lizzie to slow down. They stopped once the walkers were gone, Lizzie jumped out of the car to get some air, and Carol dislodged her leg from Daryl's and the seat to move and get out of the backseat. The prison was close, and Carol would drive them the rest of the way.
Daryl grasped her hips, she met his eyes, and he tightened his grip on her pants, trying to pull her closer. She helped him out, he grasped her cheek in his rough hand and brought her in for a sloppy kiss. She was stunned that he'd done that, and when she pulled back, he opened his eyes. "Didn't wanna die without doin' that at least once."
"You're not going to die," she assured him. "We'll get you back to the prison, and then we'll see just how much you'll want to do that when you don't die." She smiled softly then climbed out of the car. Lizzie got back in, and Carol drove to the prison. She saw Maggie and Rick in the yard, he narrowed his eyes at her, and Maggie ran to open the fence. She got out of the car once it was parked, and Rick went off.
"I told you not to come back!" he growled. "Why are you here? To return Lizzie? After you kidnapped her!"
"You can't kidnap your own child!" she snapped. "And it's Daryl. He's sick."
Rick paled and looked into the backseat. "Maggie, get Hershel and clear a cell now!" He opened the door and helped Carol lift him out of the car, Rick took most of his weight, but Carol wasn't letting him go. Lizzie ran to open the doors, and they carried him into an abandon room of the prison; Hershel set up an IV, Maggie brought him the fresh pillows, and Rick tried to make Carol leave, but she wouldn't, not until she knew he would be all right.
––
"Persistent, isn't she?" Hershel commented to Rick as Carol sat beside Daryl's bedside, watching him fight off the flu.
"Hasn't left for a second," Maggie agreed. "She won't even eat. I doubt she sleeps."
"Yeah, I know." Rick turned to him. "Is Tyreese back from that run with Michonne?"
"Not yet."
"Good. Good. I want you to empty that car, bring her stuff down here, and keep Tyreese away from her until Daryl's better. She won't leave until then." He stepped back. "Lock the door too, and keep an eye on her. Just in case."
"Right." Maggie glanced at her father then went to clean out the car.
Carl met Maggie at the car. "Carol's back?"
"For now. It's temporary. Daryl's sick, and she won't leave his side." She gathered up all the used clothes to be burned. "Why?"
"I was just curious." He glanced over. "Ty isn't back yet. He probably won't find out."
"Unless someone opens their mouth." She shouldered Daryl's crossbow and Carol's bag, making sure no weapons were inside. "Better safe than sorry." She handed him a bag. "Give this to my dad." She grabbed the last bag and headed back to where Daryl was recovering, Hershel was on watch, and she left the bags just inside the door, and set a hand on her dad's shoulder before leaving.
––
Okay. There were a lot of things Daryl Dixon could get away with. Venting about Sophia by blaming Carol, pushing her away, blow off her teasing and leaving her with a half-relaxed pain in her shoulder, passing by the cell she was desperately trying to get out of, but not under any condition could he kiss her and die! He would get better, even if she got sick and died herself—not that she would get sick, her immune system was strong—she needed to know why. She was so confused. After traveling the winter together, she knew Daryl had a good immune system too. So why was this happening? Christ, just wake up already, Daryl. She ran her hands through her hair, studying him.
––
Stiff. That's what she felt. Completely and painfully stiff. She wasn't hungry, wasn't really that tired, but she was worried about Daryl. He hadn't become lucid yet. He was just breathing in shallow breaths and his eyelids would flutter every once in a while. She kept a hold of his rough hand and willed him to get better. Hershel came in from time to time to check in on him, Carol would thank him each time, and he would offer her a cup of tea sometimes or a small helping of food, but she turned down everything, never taking her eyes off Daryl. He had to get better. He said so him.
You alright?
I'm worried about Lizzie and Mika. They were around Patrick. You okay?
Mmm-hmm. Gotta be.
––
Those words played over and over in her mind as the days went by. It'd been a total of three days, Hershel and Maggie and Carl switched out shifts, but she didn't care. They weren't there to her, only Daryl. She refused to give up, to leave his side. He was there when no one else was for her, and she would do the same for him, even if she got sick too. After that kiss, she just might be, but the kiss was still slightly in her focus. Daryl Dixon, the guy who pushed everyone away, blew off her romantic suggests as jokes, had kissed her. She wanted to know, but she didn't care about it right now. Only him getting better mattered. She wouldn't let him die.
––
She stood up and crawled onto the bed on day six, fitting herself between the wall and him, pushing her fingers though his shaggy hair. "Daryl," she kept her voice soft, like before, when she wasn't...as strong. "You gotta wake up. You can't go into that silent goodnight. I will not let you leave like this, Daryl Dixon. Do you hear me? I refuse to let you die like this." Her voice broke. "Please, Daryl, I'm not going to let you pull away, not this time. Open your eyes. I'm begging you to open your eyes."
Nothing.
––
She woke up beside him, and for a quick second saw his beautiful blue eyes then they snapped shut. She yawned into her palm and pushed herself up. She teased, "If my shirt were to come off, would that motivate you?"
"Stop." He smirked slightly.
She smiled. "You're awake."
His eyes slowly opened. "Mornin'."
"You wish." She fought back another yawn, tears rising in her eyes. "It's nighttime. You must be hungry. I'll see if Hershel can get you something. I'm not allowed to leave this room yet."
He grasped her wrist. "Not so fast."
"What is it?"
He started to speak, but a groan escaped his lips first.
"Let me get Hershel." She climbed over him and knocked on the glass, he came in and tended to him. Carol set her hand over her elbow, her thumb to her lips, and right on time as she always did, Maggie entered with a tray. Her face lit up when she saw Daryl was lucid, and she smiled, offering him a few kind words. Carol watched Daryl closely as Hershel removed the IV, Maggie caught the look Daryl shared with Carol, and she set the tray on the table by his bed, waiting for her father.
"It's good to have you back." Hershel smiled at Daryl.
"Can't say it's good to be back. Damn near died on the way here. That little girl can't drive." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Y'all right?"
Carol nodded. "I'm fine. Lizzie too."
He nodded. "Thanks," he told Hershel.
"There's nothing better to do," he mused then met Maggie at the door. "I'm just relieved we were able to help. When you have your strength, you should get some fresh air, but you still need rest."
"Come on, Daddy. It's good to see you awake, Daryl." He gave a nod to her. Maggie started up the hall, Hershel following her, glancing at the two before slipping out of sight.
"You scared me," Carol admitted, not wanting a silence between them. "I'm glad you're okay."
"Cold ain't gonna kill me." He dropped a foot to the floor, his boots thudding as they fell off the bed. "Ty know we're back yet?" He fitted his feet into the worn, brown boots.
"Not that I know of. No one's tried to kill me, so I doubt it." She shifted a bit and met his eyes, a bit nervous to finally have this talk.
He narrowed his eyes. "Somethin' you ain't telling me?"
"Hmm?" She searched his eyes. Did...he not remember what happened in the car? As much as a shock as it was, it shouldn't have been. He was so doped up on medicine and the flu, and he probably was thinking nonsense. If he didn't remember, then what he was thinking when he kissed her? Did he mean it or was he thinking of someone...else? Michonne, perhaps? They have had certain energy about that. He was really out of it then. "It's nothing, just nerves."
Walking over to the tray, she found an assortment of vegetables, a broth that didn't look very appetizing, though Daryl would eat it, and two cups of red tea. She handed him the bowl and spoon. "You need to gather your strength."
He ignored the spoon, she wondered why she'd even offered it, and he drank it. Once he finished, she handed him the plate of vegetables, he stood up and ate two cucumbers and handed the plate back to her. "Eat."
"No, you need your strength."
"I ain't weak, and I sure as hell ain't pregnant, you're gonna eat 'em." He dropped the plate in her hand and ate the the two cucumbers then went over to the door, leaning against the frame. "How long you been here?"
"A few days." She ate a celery sticks, sitting on the cot across from his. "Should you be standing?"
"I'm fine." He hated feeling weak, and he needed to move about. He didn't like this room, felt like a damn cage. The sooner he was out in the woods, feeling the air, hearing the sounds of nature, he would truly be better. He glanced out the window. "Seen my crossbow anywhere?"
She nodded toward the pile of bags that Maggie and Carl had brought in, both of them avoiding breathing in and quickly rushing out, just to be safe, though he may not have been contagious. All of the bolts had been removed. Maggie had only placed it inside, because Carl was messing with it, and she didn't want him to break it. She had no where to really put it, and she figured Carol was too weak to grab it and bash the glass out to escape. Besides, Carol's only concern was Daryl, but to be safe, she removed the bolts.
He rifled through bags and found his crossbow, shouldering it. "Feel like takin' a walk?"
She nibbled on a celery stick then met his eyes. "I'm not welcome here. Now that you're better... I should get Lizzie and Mika." Shit. She would have to find a new place. She wanted to the girls to be safe, but with her. She would find a place, make it safe, and they would be fine. "Do you happen to know anywhere that's good to stay? You and Michonne have been out there when you were looking for the Governor, surely you've found places. Hopefully, secure places."
"I told you already. We're gonna vote. The council—"
"Daryl!" Maggie ran into the room. "Carol! Come quick! The fence just gave out!"
Carol shot up, the plate shattered on the floor, and Daryl was already running up to the courtyard. Maggie and Carol followed, Maggie surrendered a knife to Carol, and they joined the others as the walkers stumbled and crowded around the last gate, Rick and Daryl were on the south-facing fence, Michonne and Tyreese were outside the fence, Maggie and Glenn to the west, Hershel and a few Woodbury survives who were left took part of the middle. Carol saw Lizzie with them and went to aid them.
Growls and moans filled the air, the smell of rotting meat was all around, and their grunts were escalating as the horde at the fences got worse. Michonne had managed to get inside, but the fence stared to cave, they all piled on and took out the cluster blocking the gate. There were too many, everyone could see that, and they were only going to draw more by using guns. Their safe haven was no longer safe. Their walls were falling down before his eyes.
Rick stumbled back for a moment, staring at his fear realized, and Daryl shouted at him to do something. Rick couldn't break down now, he gripped his weapon and thought of his children. He didn't give up on the bent-up fence before them, and he went faster at thrusting the rusted metal into the forehead of the dead in front of him, Daryl followed suit, and the others kept at it.
Thankfully, they had gotten back some of the ill, so they assisted in protecting their home. The walkers' bodies were piled up on the fence, a group went out to move them so they could reinforce it with wood and metal, and Carol was a part of that team as Carl and Lizzie were sent to check on the others. Carol and Bob moved bodies onto the wood Rick and Maggie had chopped up, Daryl and Michonne were finishing off the stragglers, Rick and Glenn and Sasha made sure the wood was stable and fence sturdy and Hershel left to check in on Beth and Judith.
Carol moved the decaying body of a small, teenager and noticed a familiar face beneath it. She gently moved the walker aside and rearranged a few more bodies, tugging on the shirt. Bob helped her pull the body out, and Bob's eyes shut tightly as they uncovered the gnawed on body of Tyreese. Carol's lips twisted, but she unsheathed her knife and made sure he wouldn't be coming back.