Summary: He was there for her when Sophia had passed and now, she would be there for him.
When Daryl returned to the prison, he was not the same Daryl that she had come to know and love. He was colder and he wasn't speaking to anyone. Anyone who tried would merely be brushed aside as Daryl made his way up the stairs and into his cell.
It was quiet, far too quiet, and Carol was beginning to get worried. Michonne had returned and so had Daryl. But Merle had not. It did not take long for her to put two and two together and it scares her even more that the cell block has been relatively silent.
There's no screaming, no sound of objects being thrown across the room in anger, no sound of something being ripped. Just cool, contemplative silence. She waits another five minutes or so before she tentatively makes her way up the stairs. She ignores the weary looks cast at her by Rick and Hershel, instead, focusing on what she could do or say to make him feel better.
The problem was that she had never seen this side of Daryl and therefore, had no idea what to expect. When he was angry of upset, he would lash out and distance himself from the group. But this? She had never seen him completely shun everyone else and had never seen him so cold before. It slightly scared her.
She stops at the top of the stairs and glances down at his cell, three doors down from where she is standing. The only sound that is apparent is her footsteps on the grate, echoing throughout the cell block.
She's two cells away now and her mind is racing, a complete frenzy of thoughts going on inside of her. Would he yell or would he stay silent? Would he hit her or would he tell her to go? She's still not sure.
One cell away now and she can just make out the huddled form on the cot, his head is resting in his hands, his legs spread apart. She knows this position. It is one that most people use for grief or sadness and she knows him well enough by now to know that he is upset.
She stops just outside his cell and waits. He doesn't stiffen or look up at her. He doesn't move from his position. But she knows that he knows that she's there.
Five minutes goes by before he tilts his head up at her briefly. The red rims around his eyes are enough for her to know that if he wasn't crying now, he definitely had been before, and her heart breaks a little more to know that he had endured that on his own.
She takes the look he gives her as an invitation and slowly steps inside. She sits down beside him on his cot and stays silent, waiting for him to begin the conversation.
He has returned to his former position and doesn't say anything. It's only after they've sat alone for ten minutes at least that he begins. "He was a dick," are the first words out of his mouth and it doesn't escape her attention that he used "was" instead of "is."
She still doesn't say anything, not wanting to interrupt. "But, he was my brother. And I loved him," he murmurs and she nods. She hesitates for just a second, not wanting to scare him, before she reaches over and gently pulls one hand away from his face, taking it in her own hand and resting them on his leg. She squeezes his hand as a show of support and continues to wait. He doesn't stiffen or pull away, which she takes as a good sign.
"I found him and put him down," he murmurs and she bites down on her lip to prevent the gasp that wants to escape. No one should ever have to put down someone they love. She couldn't do it and he shouldn't have had to.
"The Governor.. He shot him. He killed Merle, but he didn't end him. He wanted him to suffer. I couldn't let that happen," he whispers and squeezes her hand, desperately holding on as if he let go, she would disappear from his life too. "Only a Dixon can kill a Dixon," he chuckles humorlessly, his voice filled with raw emotion.
"I'm sorry," Carol whispers in response, finding now an appropriate time to give her condolences. "I won't lie, Daryl... He wasn't a good man," she whispers and watches him as attempts to pull away. She keeps her grip in an attempt to stop him. "But, he loved you. He wanted to protect us. He wanted to protect you," she clarifies and reaches her free hand up to rest on his back, hopeful to comfort him.
It was true. She didn't like Merle, she never had, but she did like how protecting he was of Daryl. That was always an honorable trait and something that she had come to respect him for.
Daryl doesn't respond, his head resting in his free hand. His body is beginning to shake and she knows what's coming. She uses the hand on his back to gently push him into her form and wraps her arm around his body and holds him to her. "It's okay, Daryl," she whispers and just like that, the floodgates had broken and all inhibitions he had were gone.
He throws his free arm around her and lets go. He's crying and he's mumbling curses and Merle's name over and over again into her chest, but she stays quiet, instead rubbing soothing circles into his back.
She would do anything to make Daryl's pain go away and though she couldn't bring Merle back, this was the most she could do and for now, she knows it's enough.
A/N: Hope you guys enjoy :)