Carol woke up with a start, in de middle of the night. Panting, bathing in sweat, she just had the worst dream. It was about...about, but then she realised it wasn't a dream at all and again she had the wind knocked out of her again. He was gone. He had left them. She was never going to see him again. She would never know if he was alright. She shook her head in disbelief; this wasn't happening. But it was.
Laying there in the darkness, she let her conversation with Rick run through her mind. After they came back inside the prison, they all tended to Maggie and Glen's wounds. Gave them food and drink and listened to their story. Carol had only half paid attention; she had been too distracted. When they came to the end, she asked Rick to talk to her and fill her in about what happened.
Merle had played a big part in the torture of Glen. Some time ago, he also had worked over Michonne pretty badly. But when push came to shove he did help them get out of Woodbury. Once they had gotten to safety, a discussion had ensued about what to do with Merle. Rick wouldn't allow him into the prison. He was too much of a liability. Daryl didn't want to leave his brother on his own. Merle had riled up Daryl and had laughed at them discussing the situation. Rick had even had to knock Merle out to shut him up. Daryl had been pissed off at all of them and was dissapointed that Merle wasn't allowed to come with him. Like Merle helping them hadn't given him any credit. Rick, Maggie and Glen had hoped to come to some sort of an agreement, but Daryl wasn't listening. It had always been Merle and him, even before the outbreak. It would be like that again, so he exclaimed. So, he had picked up his backpack out of the car and they had taken off into the woods.
To Carol this all was still completely inconceivable. They were a family. They had been through hell and back to get where they were now and he would just leave it all behind. For Merle. The world had never seen a bigger asshole than Merle Dixon. He would get into your head and make you believe you deserved the abuse you got from him. He would poison Daryl with his vile words and it would break him. She hoped she knew Daryl well enough to think he would stand up for himself and come back to them. To her. He must. She tried to get back to sleep, but it wouldn't come.
In the days that followed, she had trouble getting out of bed. She just didn't want to and lacked all motivation to get up and do something useful. It took every once of energy she had to get dressed and put on a brave face. There were plenty of things to be done around the prison. But now, it all seemed pointless. She had lost her lust for life and it scared her. The weather was beautiful, they were in a safe place with plenty of food. There were enough aspects of life to still be grateful for, but she had lost sight of them.
Grieving for the loss of Daryl also brought back feelings of loss of Sophia. Her sense of loneliness he had taken away; it had come back with a vengance. During the day she would flee to her cell two, three times to cry. She would feel desperate at those moments. Praying to get her strength back to make it through.
She would do her chores. She was there, but she wasn't really. It was obvious to the others her mind was elsewhere. The worry was killing her. If he'd go on a run, she knew the stress would be temporary, now, it would be permanent. She would never know of he was alright. If he was eating enough, if he didn't get hurt by Merle or someone else. She would stand at the gates and stare out into the field again, hoping to catch a glimpse. Maybe Daryl and Merle had stayed close by. But she never saw him.
She was also eaten up by regret. Now, he'd never know what he meant to her. And how much he had meant to her. She regretted not telling him. Not hugging him. Now, she would never know if they had ever had a chance together. A chance for a better life. A chance to love again.
She felt a lot of things, but she wasn't angry with him. She understood the choice he had made and it was his to make. It had nothing to do with her. He had his code and he lived by it. Some of the people she talked with just after his leaving, tried to pry statements out of her. They wanted to know if she was angry because he left. They were a lot weaker now, that he was gone. But no, she defended him, still. Just now, words were the only weapons she had left.