The Present
Carol digs her heels into her stallion, willing it to go faster. The sun's beginning to set, making it even more dangerous for her to be out there alone. She holds her mace, which had recently crafted for her by Earl Rose, ready for walkers.
They're at the Capitol, just off the interstate, and she sees a sign for a nature park. Could this be it?
She imagines Daryl alone in the wilderness, deep in his element. She hopes he's been happy.
As she rides towards it, her mind floods with memories she's tried so hard to keep hidden.
5 Years Before
Carol had woken with an uneasy feeling deep in her gut. In a few days, she'd be married to Ezekiel.
She'd had cold feet before, with Ed, but it had been nothing like this. She wondered if she was making a terrible mistake.
Ezekiel had been kind to her, letting her live in the Kingdom. He'd made his intentions clear, flirting with her at every possible opportunity.
After they'd won the war against the Saviors, Carol had chosen to stay there. It was a fresh start, away from Rick who'd banished her at the prison, away from Alexandria where she'd never felt welcome.
Besides, Henry needed a mother, and she'd wanted to be a mother again, now that she knew she was strong enough to protect him.
Ezekiel had become his father figure, and the three of them made a little family unit. Carol felt more relaxed. She felt content. She didn't just want to be alive. She wanted to live.
She allowed his advances and moved in with him shortly after. He was attractive, charming and kind. She could learn to love him.
She hadn't wanted to marry so quickly and only accepted after seeing how happy Henry was with Jerry and Nabila. He deserved a family, and she could give it to him.
Carol had left her bed, looking for Daryl. She'd sought him out after Ezekiel proposed, needing his approval, though she'd known it was stupid. Daryl didn't see her that way. He'd told her to stop flirting too many times. She'd given up on the idea back at the prison.
Still, she'd needed to try, one last time, willing him to tell her she was making a mistake, that she should be with him instead. But he'd told her he was happy for her, answering the question she'd been too afraid to ask.
Perhaps she hadn't been direct enough. She needed to know how he felt before it was too late.
Carol couldn't find Daryl in his room, and she could feel her panic building. I should've asked him when he noticed my ring, she mused as she fruitlessly searched the Kingdom.
By the time she found Jerry guarding the gates, her heart was pounding, and she'd known he'd left.
"You seen Daryl?" she'd asked, aware that her voice was more high pitched than usual.
"Dude left a couple hours ago."
Carol couldn't shake the deja vu. She had the same sick panic she'd felt when Rick arrived at the prison with the news that Daryl had left with Merle.
She took a deep breath. "Did he take his bike?"
Jerry nodded. "He's pro'ly gone huntin'."
Maybe. Maybe not.
Carol raced to the Hilltop, wondering if he'd gone back there. Enid hadn't seen him. Could he have gone to Alexandria?
Aaron, who'd been on watch, never saw Daryl, but with everything that had happened, wondered if he'd needed time alone.
"He'll come back," he'd assured, "I wouldn't worry."
Carol couldn't help fearing the worst, but before she could leave, she noticed Michonne in a fit of sobs. Rick hadn't long been dead. She couldn't imagine the pain her friend would be going through.
Carol embraced her, knowing no words could lessen her grief.
"I'm pregnant," Michonne had whispered, and at that moment Carol knew she had to trust what Aaron said. She couldn't leave to look for Daryl, not now. Michonne needed her.
She'd stayed at Alexandria as long as she could, and was nearly late to her wedding rehearsal, annoying Ezekiel. She held onto the hope that Daryl would return tomorrow, that he'd make it in time for the ceremony.
As she walked down the aisle, her eyes had desperately searched for him, but he wasn't there, and Carol had known, deep down, that he'd gone for good.
The Present
Carol rides down a path, ducking down to avoid being hit by overgrown branches. The park had once been beautiful but now nature had taken over, transforming it from a place of wonder to the wilderness.
She can't spot any human tracks, not yet, but she continues down the path. She can see a lake in the distance so she heads over there to refill her canteen.
Bent over the lake, she hears growling and sees walkers in the reflection. They're approaching her horse, but she's fast, taking them out before they can touch him.
"There, boy," she soothes her stallion, who she hasn't been able to name. She hasn't wanted to grow too attached, not in this world.
Carol rides for a few more hours, searching the park for any clues. It's night now, and the trees are bathed in darkness. She shouldn't be out here alone, she knows that, but she's done it before and she'll do it again - anything if it means there's a chance she'll find him.
She finds nothing and feels her hope sink. She could cry. She thought he'd be here.
She turns back. She'll find somewhere safer to sleep, back in the city, a store maybe. It's too dark, and the trees all look the same. Her horse snorts, his ears flicking back and forth. Danger.
She jumps down, searching for her 38mm but she can barely see. She hears gnarling, and it's growing louder.
There are about thirty walkers approaching. She hasn't got a lot of bullets, but she needs to use them. She can't chance using her mace or her knife. She's grossly outnumbered.
Thankfully, she's a good shot, and she takes some of them out before she gets close. Her stallion nickers and jumps, knocking a few walkers to the ground, but one of them takes its chance and bites into his stomach.
Carol gasps, saddened by her loss but plunged with a new fear. She's alone, it's dark, and now she has no ride.
On the plus side, the walkers are distracted by their fresh kill, so she runs until she stumbles, having tripped on a twig. She can still hear growling, they're coming for her now, so she tries to make tracks, but her ankle throbs.
Panic grips her heart. Shit, she thinks, I'm gonna die.
She'd overcome an abusive husband, escaped the CDC moments before it exploded, survived the loss her daughter, learned how to shoot, came back from being banished, single-handedly taken down a community and was crowned a Queen, but now she was going to die, alone in the woods, in the dark, trying to find a man who might not even be here.
She hobbles away as fast as she can, firing her 38mm as she moves, trying to ignore the increasing pain. If she was going to die out here, she was going to damn well go down fighting.
She's taken out half of them when her pistol clicks. She's out of ammo. She reaches for her knife, wondering how many she can kill before the inevitable when she hears a familiar thwack.
Maybe it's the pain, maybe it's the shock, maybe it's the excitement, for as soon as she hears that crossbow, Carol faints.
He'd spent three years alone in that shack, and though he'd carry his pain and wounds forever, the time had alleviated them. He enjoyed being alone, he enjoyed being in the wilderness.
Daryl had been fishing when something caught his eye. There were hoof and human prints in the tracks, freshly made, probably a few hours ago.
He wonders if it's the same group he saved a few weeks back, but they'd been on foot.
He follows the tracks, ignoring his rumbling stomach when suddenly he hears a gunshot.
He races towards the sound and sees a horse being devoured, but a little further on there's a woman. He can't see her face, but she's slight with long, silver hair. There's a walker scarily close to her, so he notches a bolt on his crossbow and shoots it. The woman collapses, and he worries he was too late.
Daryl grabs his machete and angrily takes out the remaining walkers before reaching for the woman. He picks her up, finally seeing her face.
It's Carol.
He wonders if it's a mirage. He's spent five years dreaming about her, perhaps he's gone crazy. But why would he imagine her with long hair? He'd always loved it short, framing her delicate face and azure eyes.
His heart's pounding as he carries her, nerves and excitement are causing a stir in his stomach. He wonders why she's here. He'd never expected to see her again.
Carol regains consciousness, her arms flailing, an instinctive reaction. Daryl grips her tighter and she remembers where she is, who she's found. His hair's longer, almost as long as hers, and his beard's thick and bushy. Beneath all that, his ruggedly handsome face and soulful eyes are distinctively Daryl's.
She's not strong enough to confront the elephant in the room, not yet. Gently, she strokes his beard and smiles. "You really need to shave."
He snorts. "Yeah, well ya look ridiculous."
He's right. She's always liked her hair short. It feels cooler and is more practical, but she was so busy after Daryl left, what with taking care of Michonne, raising Henry and looking for him, that she hadn't had time to trim it. It reached her shoulders when she asked her husband to help cut it, but he'd refused, saying her new hair made her look even more beautiful.
"Ezekiel likes it," she mutters.
As soon as he hears that name he looks down, chewing on his bottom lip. There's an awkward silence between them before Carol winces, her ankle throbbing again.
"Ya good?"
"My ankle…"
He glances down. It's swollen, but it could just be sprained. He hates seeing her in pain, so he hurries faster.
Once they arrive at the shack, he gently places her on the bed and finds her some Advil. He'd scavenged some last year, but he's been lucky. He's not had to take any.
He pours Carol a glass of powdered lemonade to take with the painkillers. They've been silent for a while now. He's imagined them reuniting so many times, but now he has her, he has no idea what to say.
"Thank you." Carol breaks the silence.
Daryl nods in response, and he can't help noticing two bands on her ring finger. She must've married Ezekiel. The reminder hurts like a punch in the gut.
"I wasn't sure I'd find you," she continues, her voice quiet with vulnerability.
He stares at her as the realization sinks in.
"Ya looked for me?"
She swallows. Her eyes look so wide, so filled with emotion.
"I never stopped," her voice breaks. "For five years, I never once stopped."
Daryl's pulse quickens. He never thought she'd look for him. He thought he wasn't needed. He thought he was doing her more harm than good, starting fights with Saviors, starting fights with Rick. If he'd stayed at the Kingdom, he would've started a fight with Ezekiel, too, if he ever caught him treating Carol badly.
The thought of her searching for him, the thought of the pain he must've put her through, the thought of his stupidity brings all his emotions to the surface and anger is the one he finds most easily.
"Ya didn't want me there!" He roars, unable to control it. He's kept these insecurities chained for too long. "Ya had yer family!"
Despite the pain, she forces herself to stand.
"You were my family!" She limps over to him as her own hurt brews into anger, frustration for all the missed opportunities, frustration for the five, wasted years that they could've spent together.
"Ya the one who left!" He yells, his heart burning with his own wounds. The loss of her to another group, another man. The sorrow he felt when he hardly saw her anymore. "Ya chose the Kingdom. Ya chose the King."
Before Carol can respond, before she can tell him that she chose what was easy instead of what she wanted, she wobbles and is close to falling when he catches her.
Neither of them can tell who makes the first move, or whether they act in unison. They're holding each other tightly, Daryl's arms cradle her waist, her hands clutch at his neck. She's so close, she smells his familiar musky scent of dirt and sweat mixed with something else, something masculine and intoxicating.
He notices the way her azure gaze meets his as if seeing him for the first time, and he feels the heat radiating from her body. Carol lifts her chin as Daryl lowers his. Her hands glide upwards, clinging to his hair as she pulls him closer. He cups her face, relishing in its softness before their lips collide.
The feel of their tongues entwining is both new and familiar, as though they had kissed a long time ago, as though they had missed it without knowing it for years.
They don't stop to catch their breath, pausing only so that Daryl can carefully lift her off the ground and lay her on the bed. There are no words between them, yet they work as one. Carol yanks off his vest, hungry for the sight of his naked torso, hungry for the feel of it against her own naked breasts. He unbuttons her shirt, fumbling because it's been so long since he's done this, fumbling because he's doing it with her, the only woman he's ever loved.
They're laid bare to each other when Daryl leans down to plant soft kisses down her neck, relishing in her gentle moans. Her legs buckle and she clutches at his hair as she pulls him closer, begging him to enter her. He's so hard, her encouragement is almost enough to send him over the edge, but he tries to focus, he wants to hold onto this moment as long as he can.
Carol's soaking wet, she's desperate for him and she cries his name as their bodies coalesce. They act in unison, each moment slow, each moment tender as they savor each other's pleasure. It's not long before they climax. Daryl realizing he can no longer fight it as Carol succumbs to her desire.
Once they're spent, they collapse into each other's arms while the realization that they've crossed a line dawns on them and threatens to drown their happiness.
There'd be no going back from this.