AU: In which Carol accompanies Daryl to find his brother, Merle, on the day he was killed by the Governor.
Carol gripped the edges of the Bible tightly, reading over a Psalms passage in the quiet of her cell. But she couldn't focus on it, no matter how hard she tried. The words, which she knew were supposed to comfort, seemed to mock and sneer at her as if they were actual human faces. She had never been a woman of immense faith, but lately all her belief in the once holy passages seemed to have vanished and faded for good. She scowled and angrily tossed Hershel's Bible on her cot, burying her face in her hands. She had been in a bad mood all day.
She heard hurried footsteps outside her cell, and a sudden clang! of something heavy dropping. The quick slurry of colorful swearing told her it was none other than Daryl. A little concerned, she cautiously left her cell and peeked around a corner.
"Goddammit! Aw, you know what? Screw you!" He pointed an accusing finger at the crossbow. "Stupid piece of shit. You were too heavy anyway."
Carol realized, with much amusement, that he was talking to his crossbow, unaware she was listening. With a grumble of irritation, he picked it up and slung it over his shoulder again.
"You alright?" Carol asked hesitantly, stepping out into the hallway. He nearly jumped, whirling around to face her in shock.
"You know, talking to inanimate objects tends to be a sign of schizophrenia, especially if in excess." She gave him a small smile to let him know she was teasing.
Whatever hurried, anxious mood he was in seemed to have faded ever so slightly. He snickered, lifting the corners of his mouth in a small smile.
"Well sign me up for the crazy club then. And here I thought I was already VIP."
He turned to leave again.
"Where are you going?" she called after him as he went to go downstairs.
He sighed. "Merle's been gone for awhile. I'm going after him. I'm worried about that Governor getting anywhere near him...he's just been gone for too long."
"Daryl, that's too dangerous. You can't go alone." She walked towards him, seeing the look of exasperation on his face. She hated it when he did this, trying to take on every responsibility by himself. Shd knew it was his brother, but she felt like it was just something else he felt like he needed to do alone.
"Look, I'm not about to go raid the town or whatever. Merle went to that warehouse just north of here, and didn't tell me why. I just need to make sure he didn't get into anything stupid."
"Let me come with you then. Just in case." Part of her reasoning was to get away from the depressing cells for a little while, but she mostly wanted to make sure he was okay. Things were more unpredictable than they ever had been before, with the Governor constantly on their every last move.
He sighed, but didn't seem in the mood to argue. He motioned for her to follow as they made their way outside. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he did enjoy her company. She was kind to him, and didn't treat him like the outsider of the group. Together, they quickly walked outside to where Daryl's motorcycle was parked. Without another word, Carol climbed on after Daryl, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.
The sun was just beginning to set, and a cool wind blew across the countryside as the motorcycle roared to life. Carol tightened her grip, a little nervous, as she had only ridden on a motorcycle once before. Sensing her sudden anxiety, Daryl chuckled, rolling his eyes. Of all the things to be nervous about...
But then he remembered Merle, and soon worry was eating away at his stomach as they rode away from the prison to the warehouse.
The idiot's got a sword for a hand. He'll be fine.
Against walkers. He'd be fine against walkers. But against the Governor?
Just shut up. He'll be fine. He may be an idiot, but he's not stupid when it comes to taking care of himself.
Daryl huffed out a sigh as they sped down the quiet road, occasionally seeing walkers stumble out of the woods at the roar of the motorcycle. He had a bad feeling bringing Carol along, and was regretting it more and more as the warehouse came into view.
This isn't some goddamn suicide mission, just relax! She's not helpless.
The motorcycle skidded to a stop just outside the warehouse, sending gravel flying in all directions. They hopped off quickly, immediately scanning the area for walkers. The roar of the motorcycle was bound to have attracted some immediately. Carol quickly took down one, an older woman, stumbling towards them from across the street with a knife to the skull and shoving its body off to the side.
"Lets make this quick," said Daryl. "His car is in the driveway. He's still here."
Carol nodded, scanning the area for any sign of Daryl's brother. , she moved into the long grass just off the driveway. Bodies, fresh ones, laid on the ground. She didn't like the look of it, especially seeing that these bodies hadn't been long-rotted walkers shot down by some wanderer. These people had clearly died while they were still alive, and just recently. She frowned, about to inform Daryl of her discovery, when she spotted a walker eating one of the fresh bodies about fifteen feet away. Grimacing, she went to take it out just as it looked up and spotted her.
Her blood went icy in her veins. Carol felt that horrible, familiar, sinking feeling. The feeling you only ever got when you saw someone you once knew look your way with the eyes of the undead. Everyone in the camp was familiar with it. It was a hopeless, drowning sensation that left you almost completely immobile for a few seconds before the shock wore off.
Carol felt it for the second time in her life as she watched what was once Merle Dixon look up, his eyes almost burning into hers as whatever was left of his brain registered movement in front of him. He staggered to his feet, grunting and hissing as he lurched forward. A cry of despair escaped Carol's throat, immediately causing Daryl to come rushing to her aid from inside the warehouse, crossbow brandished.
"Carol!" he yelled, only seeing her stare in horror at a corpse lurching forward, with her knife shaking in her hands. He was confused for a second, why wasn't she just attacking the stupid thing-?
Then he saw that the corpse had a metal spear extension coming out of its arm where its other hand should be, and it hit him like a bucket of ice water. Merle. Of course it was his brother.
He dropped his crossbow and ran towards his brother, feeling his legs no longer fully supporting him. Hearing the footsteps, the shell of his brother turned to face the new source of the sound. Now face-to-face with him, Daryl stopped dead in his tracks. Carol couldn't move as Merle now staggered towards his brother, watching as Daryl's face screw up into a tortured grimace. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes.
"Daryl-" Carol made a move towards him.
He roughly shoved the corpse away from him, a sob escaping his throat. Merle stumbled back, but regained his footing and came after him again, snarling and groaning, his eyes completely blank. Daryl shoved him away again. Rushing over, Carol tried to pull Daryl away before the corpse could reach him, but he shoved her off, causing her to lose her footing and stumble to the ground. With an angry cry, he grabbed his knife and plunged it into his brother's skull, again, and again, and again, even after he had stopped moving. Carol scrambled to her feet, hurrying over to him and gently pulling his arm away. She pried the knife from his fingers. He barely seemed to notice she was there.
His whole body was shaking with silent, barely controlled sobs. He tore his eyes away from his brother, his knees buckling. Carol only just caught him before he hit the ground, grunting from his heavy weight. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, easing him to the ground as gently as she could just as he had done to her when Sophia had come stumbling out of the barn. He was in some sort of mindless, numb rage, lunging for his knife, intending to attack his brother again. She quickly grabbed it and tossed it out of his reach. Carol felt like she was only making things worse, but she couldn't let him mutilate his brother's body. He would only regret it later.
He doesn't even realize what he's doing. I don't think he even knows it's me that's holding him back.
He finally gave up and drew his knees into his body, hiding his head inside of them, refusing to look at her or anything else. She carefully stepped away from him, knowing physical contact was only going to make things worse. Placing his knife securely in her belt, she took his crossbow and placed it by her side a ways back from Daryl.
She felt nauseous with dread over what would now become of him. The sun was setting low behind the trees, and she knew they needed to get back to the prison before the others started to worry. But what were they supposed to do with Merle's body? Burn it? Bury it? Just leave it? She bit her lower lip hard enough to draw blood, glancing over at Daryl who hadn't moved an inch aside from his heavy breathing.
"Daryl," she said softly, carefully approaching him as one would a wounded animal. "Daryl, we have to go. It's getting dark."
He didn't move.
"Daryl," she said more firmly. She gently laid a hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to bury him before we go?"
God, I am so sorry, she thought. I am so, so sorry.
He stood up abruptly, startling her. Without another word, he grabbed his crossbow and stalked over to the motorcycle.
"Let's go," he snapped without turning to face her. She quickly followed him without question, knowing it was the only thing to do. She climbed onto the motorcycle, wrapping her arms around his waist as he kicked-started it to life. She gave Merle's body one, final glance before they sped away. She planned to let Rick know about the incident, and return to bury Merle's body tomorrow.
Rick had been about to come after them himself by the time they got back. Daryl pushed past him, going directly to his cell without a word of explanation. Rick didn't need Carol to explain: her facial expression said it all. He covered his face with his hands, shaking his head in disbelief. She told him they would discuss it in the morning, and he agreed.
As she laid in her cell that night, Carol kept having to tell herself that the best thing to do for Daryl was leave him be. She knew that his best consolation was with himself. Over the next few weeks, she told herself, she'd be there for him in whatever way she could. A word here and there, a smile, a joke, sitting beside him around the fire at night. Little things to let know that he wasn't alone, nothing more than what they did already. Daryl would only find comfort with himself, no matter how much every inch of her ached to hold him, to tell him it would be okay even though they both knew nothing ever would be. She just wanted to wrap her arms around him and just hug him tightly as she always did with her daughter.
But you love him so much differently than Sophia. You know that.
A tear leaked down her cheek at the thought of her daughter, Merle, and everybody else who had died and had to come back as one of those monsters from hell that took on the face of those you loved after they were gone. Carol sat up in bed, her distressed, upset thoughts immediately turning into anger. She sighed, remembering she still had Daryl's knife in her belt.
I should probably give that to him...
It can wait till morning.
Oh well.
She stood up, carefully tip-toeing down the hallway to where Daryl's cell was. As she suspected, he was still awake, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. She carefully tapped on one of the bars, smiling faintly as he looked up. He locked his eyes with hers for a moment before hastily turning away.
"I have your knife," she said, holding it up for him to see. He stood up and wordlessly took it from her, nodding in thanks. Carol watched him place it in his belt, wondering if he was going to say anything to her. As she turned to leave, he called her back, softly. She turned, gazing at him in concern.
"Thanks," he murmured. "For...for not letting me...do that..."
She nodded. "Of course."
She turned to leave again, but he placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her around to face him once more. Hesitantly, he leaned down and placed a small, quick kiss on her mouth. He sighed, and she smiled. She pulled him into a tight hug before returning to her cell, feeling both happy and very, very sad all at once.
The world is unfair. No one knows that better than us, she thought as she drifted off to sleep.
