Disclaimer: I own nothing.
––
The sounds he could make out were shouting—a woman's voice filled with panic and love—the wind blowing in through an open or shot out window, distorting the other voice he could make out, and there were so many colors. Silvers, flesh tones, silver, brown, red, black, red, blue, red, red, red. It began to brighten and drown out all other colors, darkening...darkening...nothing. There was nothing. It was pure darkness, and the colors were all gone. The sounds were amplified, and it was deafening. They swirled together like water down a drain, dizzying and captivating.
He felt things, too. Rocking. His body would rock back and forth from movement, he was numb to the rocking waves that gently tossed his body side to side, there was warmth all around him. It was wet along his face and neck, arm and firm against his back and shoulder,and it was consoling to have that warm pressure there. To feel this world pushed against him. If he were to slip away, he would immediately know with that warm pressure gone. He was still there. He was still alive.
Hands touched his neck, that soft voice came back with bubbling laughter and bliss at what was found there, and he wanted to see. He wanted to see the face that was laughing, to laugh with it, but his eyelids were so heavy. It hurt... It hurt...
– – –
"Denise!" The front door smacked open, Denise flew out of the kitchen with Beth on her heels, and Carol and Noah held a young man between them. "He's stable, but I don't know for how much longer."
"Carl!" Beth gasped and ran over to his limp body to try and help get him inside. "What happened?"
"He's in and out. We need to get him blood now!" Carol commanded. "Denise, please!"
"Help me get him onto the bed." Denise tightened her ponytail and headed to the bathroom to wash her hands. "Beth, get my tools!"
They all worked together to get Carl situated on the bed, Beth rolled her sleeves up to help Denise with him, Noah stumbled out of the room, and Carol stood at the end of the bed. Denise worked instantly the wound, Beth beside her and helping her clean the area once the blood started to gush again, and Carol looked down at the boy. The image of his mother, pale, blood slick over his entire upper right body, the beginning features of a man forming and coated with blood.
He hadn't moved or spoken since they got him to the car, Noah drove like a madman to get here, and Carol tended to him as best she could, but he didn't speak. He didn't move. His eye shut, and it didn't open. It didn't open, and there was so much blood. She hadn't seen so much blood in so long. It soaked her to the bone, clinging under her nails, drying in every curve of her knuckles, congealing into sticky blots on her hands and arms and neck. Her body was stained with his blood, and he still wasn't waking. Why...? Why wasn't he waking up? Carl...please... Carl, please, damn it. Don't. Don't. Don't!
"He needs blood." Denise turned to Carol. "We have some equipment from that raid four months ago. Does anyone know his type?"
"I know. It's the same as his father's. Daddy told me it. I don't match him." Beth set a bowl full of pieces of flesh and gore to the side, not lingering on its contents as she informed the room of her own blood type and Carl's, turning to Carol to see if hopefully hers did. "Do you?"
She shook her head. "No. How about you Denise?"
"I match." Noah sat on the floor outside the room, calling in weakly, eyes glossy and dry, staring at the wall with no ounce of feeling in his body. "I match."
"Noah." Beth followed his voice and found him on the floor. "But why...? No, please, come." She held her hand out, and he accepted it. "Here, sit down. I'll prep him."
"You should shower." Denise dug through her bag, speaking at Carol. "Clear your head. He's fine. He's just lost a lot of blood. The bullet may have taken his eye, but he will recover. He'll recover."
She nodded and departed from the room, heading to the bathroom to shower. She spotted Charlotte on Beth's bed, snoozing away with her favorite blanket, and she smiled before slipping into the bathroom to shower.
Hours passed, Denise had gone to take a nap, Beth sat by Carl's bedside and Noah was on the opposite side of the bed, his blood restoring what Carl had lost, and Carol was feeding her daughter two rooms down. It was dead silent in the house, but Carl was breathing on his own, the color had returned to his face, and his wound was wrapped and clean. It was a good silence.
"What happened?" Beth held Carl's hand in both of hers, eyes on Noah who looked worse than Carl did when they first brought him in. "Did you not find your family?"
"We found them," he murmured. "They were dead."
"Oh, God. I'm so sorry, Noah."
"I had to kill my brother." His eyes were hollow orbs of brown, almost black against the dim light of the room, his lips cracked and dried, his entire body still. He still wore the same blood covered shirt, and it wasn't all Carl's blood. His mother... his brother... this kid... "I had to."
Arms wrapped around his shoulders, he could smell flowers and spice in the air, and he blinked, the dry burning as tears flooded his eyes. He felt the warmth of Beth's sweater scratch against his cheek, her hair brushed over his face, and he gripped her arm with his hand, a whimper escaping through clenched teeth. He buried his face there in the sweater, Beth rested her cheek against his cheek, and she held him tightly. She hushed his sobs only to let him know he wasn't alone in crying them. She was there. She would always be there. He had a home to return to, and he had a family. One that would protect each other and support each other, like now with him and with Carl. There was no cost, only acceptance and love. Death could be mourned here. Life was grown here. He could grow here.
Carol tickled her fingers down Charlotte's little bubble belly, she pouted, not liking it, and Carol chuckled, placing a loud kiss against her belly. She giggled and reached for her face with both hands, and Carol gave it to her, seeing those beautiful eyes shining back at her with love and laughter.
"Mommy." She patted her face and grabbed her nose. "Mommy, I missed you!"
"I missed you, too, but this is how I breathe, first of all." She removed her little fingers. "And second of all, that's Missy Mommy to you."
She shook her head. "No."
"No? No?" Charlotte only grinned at her and giggled. "Fine, guess I'll take your nose then." She swept her fingers across her face, Charlotte blinked a few times, and Carol wiggled her "nose" above her.
"Aah, give it back!" Her mouth turned into a frown as she reached for Carol's hand. "Mommy, give it back. You already have one."
"Well, I guess I don't need it." She lowered her hand and blew a raspberry on her cheek, Charlotte whined, but she was smiling, and Carol rested her head on her knuckles. "There, all good." She tapped her nose twice. "Ooh, it's a little sideways."
"Nu-uh!" She smacked her hand over her nose, and Carol laughed. "My nose."
"Yes, your nose." She chuckled. "Sorta. It's more like your daddy's."
"Da...Dad..." She eyed her mother, not familiar with the word. "Daddy..."
"He would love you so much." She set a hand over her stomach. "So much, and you would adore him. I know I always say, but it's always true." She smiled sadly at the girl, her eyes stinging as a film of moisture cloaked them, and she blinked hard.
"Mommy's sad."
"Not so much anymore." She kissed her forehead and snuffled. "There's someone I want you to meet later. He's gonna be like a big brother to you. His name is Carl. Can you can that? Carl? Car-l?"
"C-aarl," she repeated, smiling, so sure she'd said it correctly. "Caarl!"
"Close enough for now." She adjusted the buttons on her jumper and exhaled. She did pronounce with a heavy A. "Want to hear a story about a good friend of Mommy's?"
"Yes, read me a story."
"It's not in a book, but it goes like this." She smoothed down her hair and thought back so many months ago. Years ago.
– – –
It had been a month since their family had grown, Rick and Hershel were working on farming, Maggie and Beth were trying to help everyone adjust from a town to a prison, and Daryl kept his disance. Carol warmed to the newcomers, but she was still trying to wrap her mind around everything had happened. It was all so sudden, and it was so much to take in. Adjustments were...difficult. She needed some space. Just a little space.
Daryl was by the gate with Carl and Maggie, Carol was walking the fence, and she overheard him saying he was leaving. She frowned and joined them, smiling at them as a greeting, and Daryl wouldn't look at her. She knew then his little trip wasn't going to be short. He was planing on taking off for days. And he didn't even tell her. Why didn't he tell her? Or mention it at all?
Maggie set her hands on Carl's shoulders and steered him off towards the prison. "Let's check on Beth and Patrick, okay?"
"But he's building with Legos," Carl griped
"So, let's go." She shoved him gently onward. "I'll be up in a sec."
Carol crossed her arms, and Daryl sighed, sitting back on the bike and meeting her eyes narrowly. She didn't say anything, only studied his eyes and tilted her head to the side, and he sighed again.
"What do you want me to say?"
"Anything, really." She lowered her arms. "I'd like a why."
"Because I can't be here right now. I just buried the last bit of blood I had, and I ain't gonna sit around and make nice to strangers right now. I need to clear my head. I need space, and I can't have that with all these kids buggin' me. I ain't gonna be an ass to 'em, so I'm goin'"
"Okay." She swung her leg over the bike and wrapped her arms around his back. "Sounds good. Let's get out of here."
"Excuse me? Us?"
"Yes, us." She kept her cheek against the warm leather of his vest, his shoulder blade strong underneath the material. "I buried Andrea too, Daryl. I need some time away from here. There was nothing of Lori to even bury."
He bowed his head and adjusted his position. "Hang on then."
She closed her eyes, he called to Maggie to open the gate, and she heard stone scratch against metal before the bike rumbled to life underneath her. Air blasted at them as he sped down the road, the distance between them and the prison increasing, and she only opened her eyes when cold, moist air hit her exposed hands. She saw lovely dark greens and shadows, lifting her head to see he'd taken a trail through the woods, and she smiled at the sight of it. Green, peaceful, stretching forward endless. It was beautiful.
She tightened her grip on him, his hair lightly blowing back into her face, and she didn't mind. She rested her chin on his shoulder for only a moment before the oncoming air was too much. She rested her head on his shoulder and studied the side view, listening to the sounds of nature and allowing the cold air to spill into her lungs, whisking away the choking sensation of being trapped in the prison with so many people. They were all trying to readjust and mourn, but some had more to mourn than others, and some people—like them—needed the privacy to properly mourn. To return would mean to recover, and they weren't there yet, but it felt possible now.
She wasn't sure when he pulled the bike to a stop, Carol stepped off first, and he followed, pulling his crossbow over his shoulder.
"You bring a weapon?" He looked her over, seeing mostly an oversized jacket and wind blown curls.
"Of course." She unzipped the jacket and showed her knife.
"Here." He stepped closer and adjusted the holster. "Tuck your shirt in behind it, makes it easier to get your knife. Be sure your jacket doesn't get in the way of pullin' it."
"Thanks."
"Just...don't want anythin' to happen to ya." He wondered off and scanned the area. "River's not too far from here. Probably a camp ground south of it. Spotted it a while back when..."
"When you left the group," Carol finished. "It would be nice to just get away for a few days, and you don't have to hide. Not with me."
"I know," he whispered. "Why I even let you on my bike."
"Oh, you "let me on"?"
He smiled a little. "Yeah, let you."
"Okay." She smiled back at him and set a hand on his arm. "Thanks for letting me then."
"Yeah, just don't make a habit of it." A smirk. "You still needa work on your aim to watch my back."
"I held my own well against the Governor." She walked in front of him and looked around. "And I'm fine with a knife."
"Fine ain't enough—you gotta...be skilled. You ain't there, so I'm gonna worry."
"Then teach me how to be there." She faced him and locked her eyes in his. "Show me how to be skilled, how to track, how to leave a trail, how to...survive. We learned on the road, but we're not on the road. I don't want another Governor coming in and doing this to us again, so show me. Please, for Andrea's sake and Merle's."
He lowered his eyes, teeth nibbling on his inner lower lip, and he nodded once. "Okay. Take it off."
"What?" She stumbled backwards, not expecting that to come out of his mouth.
"Your jacket. Take it off. It'll get in the way. If you get cold, I'll make a fire."
"Well, if you want to get me out of my clothes, you just have to ask."
He blushed and averted his eyes. "Just...take it off, please."
"Okay." She set it on the ground. "What now?"
He set his crossbow on the ground as well and his vest, closing the space between them. "Hold up your arms."
"What are you showing me exactly?"
"How to defend yourself. You're small, not built like Maggie or Michonne, but you're not weak. I've seen you. You can control someone else's weight." He didn't want to know how or why she knew how to do that, because it would instantly piss him off. "I'll show you how to incapacitate them. Your knife is gonna need an upgrade, but we'll work on that later. Arms up. You trust me?"
"Of course."
––
"Here, this should help with the swelling." He set a cloth over her shoulder, she shuddered at the contact, and he apologized. "Sorry. I didn't mean to push you so hard."
"Not quite how I wanted to get bruises, but it's okay. I asked for it." Heh, that was funny to say and actually mean. "Thank you."
"I have a couple more soaking in the river in a net." He sat beside her on the bed. They had found a camper in decent condition, and it had some still working camping gear. It felt like camping before, but...walkers still crossed their paths, and he wasn't a little boy anymore. He also wasn't alone. There was no better company, to be honest.
She exhaled and leaned against the wall. "How long have we been gone?"
"Four days now."
"When should we head back?" She rolled her head to the side and looked him over, and he shared a small smile with her. "Daryl..."
"Day after tomorrow. I gotta show you how to fish first. Found a good spot, no walkers, some decent sized fish." He ran a hand through his hair. "Found some rods a couple campers down. In good shape. We can bring some back with us."
"That would be nice. Smooth it over with Dad." She shivered through her amused chuckle, and he noticed. "He won't be happy with this."
"We're adults. He'll get over it." He straightened his spine and met her eyes. "You...uh, you cold?"
"A little bit." Her jacket ended up in the mud a few nights ago, and the blankets here were thin and light for summer trips, not the winter that was befalling them now. He had found as many blankets as he could, but not all cold could be fought off. "I'm fine."
He cleared his throat. "C'mere."
"Hmm?" She lifted her head.
"C'mere," he repeated, moving back onto the bed. "Might as well make use of my body heat, ain't doin' me much good."
She smirked teasingly at him and chuckled. "Are you asking me to cuddle with you?"
"No, it ain't like that. You're just cold, and you'll get a cold. I don't want you barfin' on me on the way back home. I got a thing about that."
"Oh, well, we don't want offend your thing."
He blushed and shook his head. "You're such a... Ugh, forget it."
"I'm only kidding to get this reaction out of you." She chuckled softly and moved closer to him. "This is nice, thank you."
"Lemme get a blanket. Did you eat?"
"Yeah, the crackers were stale, but somehow it all went down."
"Yeah, I know what you meant." He pulled the blankets from his bed and set them on the bed, moving underneath them with her, and she rested her head on his shoulder, eyes closing. "You feel any better? Your shoulder?"
"Yeah, the cold's helping."
"Should be sure you don't catch nothin'." He wrapped another blanket around her, leaning against the wall and listening to the stillness of nature. "He's gonna be pissed."
She giggled. "So pissed."
He snorted at her tone and smirked. "Get some sleep."
"Keep it up, and there'll be no getting rid of me." She removed the cloth and tossed it into the bucket of other dirty rags, her shoulder numb from the cold.
"Maybe I don't wanna get rid of ya," he murmured when the rag smacked against the others, and she gave him a funny expression. "Get some sleep."
"I can't sleep like this. Lie down, and I'll sleep beside you."
They lied down on the bed, he slipped a hand under his head, and she curled up facing the wall. He listened to her breathing and glanced over at her, seeing she had fallen asleep easily. A filling meal—no matter how...rough—and warmth tended to do that to her, he noticed. He was glad. Sleep was the best recovery a body needed, and she couldn't...question why he had moved so close when she was asleep. He didn't touch her, but he was closer. He could feel her mere cementers away from him, and he felt safe. He felt better. The burden of mourning lessened with her around, and he felt confident in her being able to protect herself. He could worry less. He'd definitely still worry about her, but less. It was oddly comforting. Her being safe...lulled him to sleep.
– – –
Rick was fuming when the pair returned, however they had a butt load of fish with them, and it softened the blow. Neither explained what had happened while they were away, but they were both lighter. Carol showed off some fish to the kids, most of them fled from the sight, but some were interested. She had to prepare them for lunch, and she left Daryl and Rick by the gate with Carl to ready the fire pit.
"You all right?" Rick shifted his weight, hands on his hips. "Y'all were gone a while. We were worried."
"I'm fine." He squinted under the sun shining off the gates. "We just needed...time and some space."
"I get that. I'm glad y'all are all right. She looks better, and so do you." He smiled. "Anythin' you wanna share there, Daryl?"
He smirked to himself. "Not with you."
"Oh, but there's somethin' to share?"
"No!" He ducked his head to keep his blush hidden and rolled his bike towards the makeshift parking lot.
"Ho, ho, ho." Rick caught up to him. "Are you blushin'?"
"Don't you got anythin' better to do, Santa Claus?"
"Not anymore." He laughed.
"Prick."
They walked by Carol who had gotten caught by more kids who were stunned to see real fish, Daryl glanced over at her, and she was laughing with them, her features bright and beautiful. She caught him looking and told the kids who helped her, and they rushed over to meet him. Rick stopped teasing him to let the kids swarm him, and Daryl wasn't sure what to do, but he told them the story of how he caught them. It seemed to please Carol, and that made him really happy to see her so happy. He was surprised to feel so happy with all that happened last month, but there he was. Huh, perhaps time wasn't the only means of healing. Maybe good friends were, too.
"Whoa!" A little girl gasped. "Show me how to fish! Show me, show me! Please, please please!"
"No, show me!" A boy cried. "Molly's gonna cry, but not me."
"I won't cry! Lair!"
"Okay, kids," Carol called to them when Daryl was clearly overwhelmed by their continued bickering, "chores."
"Aww."
Daryl had never been so grateful for chores than he had in that moment, and he'd never been so grateful for the woman who said the word. He'd keep her safe from a distance, too. She'd cover her front, and he had her back. He'd never let her out of sight for long. That was a promise.
– – –
Beth had Charlotte that morning while Denise spoke with Noah and Carol prepared food for Carl, it had been forty eight hours since they'd brought him home, and they were hopeful he'd wake up this morning. He still had a pulse—a strong one—and Denise was confident he'd pull through. Eventually. He just had to wake up first, lazy bones. He'd been through so much. They wanted to be sure he was all right. How could he not be?
"This little piggy went to market," Beth tickled Charlotte's feet, laughing with her and helping her learn to count her toes. Whether she retained it or not was a different matter entirely. "And this little piggy—"
"...Beth?" A croaked voice cut her off, eyelid fluttering weakly, and he exhaled roughly. "B—Beth?"
"He's awake." She stood up. "You're awake. Oh, my God." She ran to the doorway and shouted for them then went back to his side, holding his hand and smiling brightly at him. "Hey, yes, it's me."
"What...?" He swallowed, his throat sticking, and he coughed.
"Have some water." She pulled the cup from the nightstand and helped him take sips from it. "Easy, you're all right. You're safe."
"Am I dead?" He blinked at her. "Why can't I...?" He touched the side of his face and felt bandages. "What the...?"
"Carl." Carol set his breakfast down on the nightstand and sat on the bed. "Easy there. It's still healing."
"What happened? Where am I?" He looked from Carol to Beth, taking them both in and how much they had changed. Beth had gnarly gashes on her face, her shirt was barely touching her shoulders, and she had lost a lot of weight. She was never that big, but now she was very...very small, smaller than him, and she was older. It made his chest hurt to see her looking so beaten. What the hell had happened to her?
And Carol looked smaller, too. Her hair was still short, but it reached further down towards her chin. She looked a bit worn, but happy and still breathing. She wasn't the same woman he had last seen, but he was glad of that. Her changing was a good thing; it always had been.
He was utterly bemuse by this situation and shook his head to try and clear it, his thoughts falling out before he could process them. "How are you alive? I thought...you had died. Both of you."
"That's nice." Beth smirked flatly at the boy. "I knew you were alive."
"No, I didn't mean—It's really good to see you. Maggie's gonna be so happy." He smiled. "And Daryl, too. Dad... Judith!" He laughed. "Everyone."
"Maggie's with you?" Her eyes widened, her heart stopping dead in its tracks at the mention of her big sister. The sloppily taped box she had forced around her family fell apart, and she couldn't sit still. They had to. They had to go now. Maggie was somewhere and alive. They had to be there. They had to be going there. Where? "Where? Where is she? How far away is it?"
He chuckled. "Beth, I have no clue where I am, so I dunno. It might be far, though. We were on the run—me, Glenn and Gabriel—and we founds some wolves who gave us trouble."
"Animals?"
"No, a group of savage killers. They had attacked our home, but we managed to get rid of them. We just ran into a couple of them again. They took our medicine. We had to follow them a long way, but we needed it. I hope Glenn got it. I hope they're all right." He rubbed the back of his head and spotted the infant by his leg. She was a fair skinned little beauty in overalls, chestnut hair spilling over her shoulder, and she was staring at him with familiar eyes. "Who...is this?"
"Oh, this is Charlotte." Beth set a hand on the girl's foot to get her attention for a moment, though she was deeply intrigued by Carl, and she only briefly glanced at Beth. "Charlotte, this is Carl. He's family."
She looked at him with big blue eyes, lips damp with moisture and offered a toothy smile at the long haired boy. "Hello." She waved at him. "I'm Charli."
He returned her smile. "Hi." He reached out and touched her soft, chubby cheeks and her soft long hair. "She's cute. Is she yours?" He looked at Beth.
"No! No, she ain't mine." She gestured to Carol to let him know who the girl came from. "This is—"
"Oh, he's actually up. I thought I misheard." Denise entered the room with Noah. The woman wore a loose white button up shirt and jeans, looking more like a 90s Mom than a doctor. Carol had told her this several times, but Denise liked what she liked. "I should perform a check up once you've eat. Um, but first I am Denise Cloyd. I'm a doctor and friend of Carol's."
"Family," Carol corrected. "This is Noah. He...helped save you and Beth."
"Save Beth?" He looked at her, suddenly recalling what he'd been told years ago. "What happened to you in the last few years? Daryl mentioned you were taken?"
"It's a long story, and it doesn't matter. I'm okay now. We saved each other and are alive. Denise saved you, and now...now we can go home to my sister." Her eyes burned as a smile lit up her face. "We can see our family again."
"That's amazing." Denise smiled. "I can't wait to meet them. I hope another doctor's useful."
"Yeah, our is kinda loopy. He's...nice but weird. He can't sing either." He glanced at the other teenager. "I remember seeing you. You were by my bed."
"I gave you blood." He held his arm out to show the bandage on his inner forearm. "We match blood types."
"Yeah, thanks." He smiled and looked them over. "I can't believe you guys are alive, and we...are together. Maggie is going to explode, and Glenn, too. God, Hershel—"
"Daddy?" Beth jolted. "W—what?"
"Oh, no, Hershel...died." He lowered his eye. "Maggie had a baby, Beth. Hershel Rhee."
She covered her mouth with her hand. "She had a baby?"
He nodded. "And he's adorable. He's about the same age as this one here."
"Oh, my God. I have a nephew." She stood up, pushing hair out of her face and walking over to the door. "She named him after Daddy?"
"Yeah." Carl minded the toddler that was crawling onto his lap and planted herself there, leaning against his chest and sighing with boredom. He wrapped his arms loosely around her and chuckle. "Very expressive kid we got here. Is she yours then?"
"Oh, no." Denise shook her head when she saw him looking. "I...am not... I've been single since birth. Um, she's Carol's daughter."
Carl blinked and turned to the woman who hadn't said anything about anything and was very calm about the situation. "Y—you have a daughter? How? I mean, with who?"
She pursed her lips and gave no response, knowing now there was no avoiding it. Well, here goes privacy.
"You had to be pregnant at the prison for her to be so big. Right? I mean, who...? I don't... Wait, Darren?"
"Who's Darren?" Beth frowned, snapping out of her bliss bubble. "Oh, God, no. She isn't his, right? He is... Umm, never mind."
"He was a good man," Carol added when Beth cut off. "He had his jokes and his charms. And we were friends, but nothing more. Her father... Well, we'll see him soon enough."
"What does that mean?" Beth glanced at Carl. "Who all got out?"
"Um, Dad, Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, Daryl, Tyreese, Sasha, and we got a few more people along the way, but only those you guys know." He shifted on the bed. "Dad and Michonne are together now, and Maggie and Glenn have their son, and...our home is more secure than any place we've been. Charlotte will be safe there. All of us will be."
Beth exhaled. "Daryl made it back to you guys?" She wasn't sure if he mentioned him before now, but she was aware and excited and heard every word pertaining to their family. Their living, healthy family.
"Yeah, he saved us from a group of assholes."
"Oh, thank God. I was so worried after we got separated."
Carol lifted her head at that news. "Y—you were with Daryl?"
"Yeah, we got out together, but we ended up getting overrun in a funeral home. I was kidnapped trying to take out a walker with a broken wrist. That's how Grady got a hold of me." She searched her eyes. "How long had you been sleeping with him?"
"Whoa." Carl looked down at Charlotte and noted the hair once more and her nose. Wait, that beauty mark..?! "Hang on—"
"Seven months." She kicked the wall lightly with the heel of her boot. "I got pregnant about two months in, but I didn't notice. I didn't think I had to worry about it. But everything happened at the prison happened, and I was on my own. I felt her move, and I got a test. I was pregnant. Charlotte is Daryl's biological daughter. Mystery solved."
"I didn't mean to pry," Beth confessed. "I just wanted to be sure it was your choice."
"Of course it was. I know how you handle men who make unwanted advances. I was married to one for years."
Noah shifted uncomfortably in the corner, Carl set a hand on Charlotte's head, Denise was tempted to just leave and claim she had to check on literally anything else, and Beth sat beside her. She set a hand on her shoulder and attempted to get a smile out of her.
"He missed you. He...mourned everything we lost, and I know for a fact he missed you especially. We got drunk, and he thought I passed out afterward in the woods, but... I could hear him crying about you. He really loved you."
"It was a long time ago." She stood up. "Denise, check Carl out and see if he's good for travel. Beth should get home to Maggie, and Rick will be worried about Carl. Devastated, in fact, so please."
"I'll get our things ready," Noah offered. "Clothes, food, medicine."
"I'll help you pack it all up." Beth stood up and walked over to him, looking at Carol once more. "It wasn't that long ago."
"We slept together, Beth. It was for release, nothing more. Help Noah pack. I have to check the car and be sure it can make the trip. Carl, when you're up for it, give Denise directions to this home." She paused and gestured to Charlotte. "Do you mind watching her for me?"
"No, it's cool." He pulled out a tight smile. "I've got her."
"I don't need a babysitter," Charlotte remarked. "I can help."
"I know you can help, and you are. You're going to keep Carl company and help him out, okay? Can you do that for me?"
She inhaled deeply and tossed her mom a thumb's up. "I'm the bestest helper ever."
"Yes, you are. Thank you both." She strolled out of the room and headed for the car. She moved out of sight, covering her mouth with her hand and nearly collapsing beside it. She used her free hand to catch her weight on the car, eyes filling with tears and laughter rising in her throat. He was alive. She knew he was alive, but now he was within reach. They all were. Charlotte would know her father and her family. "Oh, God." She would know real safety, too.
Inside Beth studied Carl and told Noah she'd catch up to him, Denise prepared to look him over for travel, finding a notepad to write out directions for Alexandria so he called it. Beth moistened her lips and stepped closer to the bed.
"Is he involved with someone?" She didn't dare avert her eyes. "Daryl, I mean."
"Why would you ask that?" He let Charlotte have his fingers since she kept prying at them, and he felt like he was with Judith when she was this age. Charli kept touching her hand to his, like she couldn't believe how big his hand was compared to hers. Wait till she felt Daryl's. God, that was an odd though. Daryl as a father. It wasn't just a thought; it was a fact. His head was swimming at this point, and he decided to shut it off. All of it off until they were home. Then he'd deal.
"Your expression when you found out about them—it wasn't just surprise. There was dread, too, so is he?"
"He might be. I don't know for sure. I've seen him out with a woman named Nina. I...can't speak on their relationship."
"Oh, no."
"We really did think you were all dead."
"Yeah, tell that to her." She waved to Charlotte and sauntered out of the room to find Noah. She was ready to get packing and see Maggie. She couldn't wait to see her and hug her and Glenn and Hershel. Her nephew. God, she couldn't wait to see them after all this time. To be whole again...
She came to a halt at Noah sitting on the porch steps, crying, and she remembered what his family situation was. He had lost everything in mere seconds, and he had to swallow it to help Carl survive. He had no time to mourn. After all he'd helped them through, there was no reward, only agony and loss.
She lowered herself down onto the step beside him, a hand on his back, and he threw himself on her, sobbing. She held him close and prayed silently, her arm around his arm to let him know she was there for him. There was time for mourning, and then there would be time for family and rebuilding. They would find that with Maggie. She was sure of it.
