Thank you guys so so so much for sticking this one and reading. I hope you enjoyed the ending! xx
She watched as the sun's rays fell steadily along the wall. The muted yellow-orange glared across the top half of the room, keeping her in the shadows beneath. Daryl hadn't stirred even an inch in the hours in which he slept, his arm still weighted across her.
When the sun hit halfway across the wall she shifted away from him, sitting up at the edge of the bed. She could feel the warmth at the top of her head, and then to her shoulders and arms as she stood. She gathered her fallen coat, pulling it around her as she slipped out the door.
It was too early for anyone else to be awake, their old rhythms of rising with the sun having gone once they settled inside the walls—no longer needing to rely on its light or hide from the dark. She hurried herself to get ready, forgoing appearances for comfort and time, leaving the house behind her.
It was crisp outside, an autumn air that chilled right through the thin white blouse she wore, but would be replaced by the sun's heat by noon. The houses lined the empty street, quiet in their still-resting state. She wondered if the people inside had dreams like she did, ones that ripped sleep away from her and woke her to a world no better than the nightmares she had. But then they'd have to see things for what they were.
At the edge of his shed, Father Gabriel squinted up at her, the Holy book in his hand shielding his eyes from the hurrying sun. She stalled at the opening walkway that led to him, waiting uncertainly as he approached.
"It's a nice morning for a walk," he grinned at her, a nervous tick to the corners of his mouth that didn't quite sell the jolliness of his tone. He looked apprehensively at that gate before them. "I'd join you, but, I have a lot to prepare for the service."
"What are you going to tell them?"
Gabriel looked down at the Bible, flipping through its tattered pages. It held answers once but there was no guide to lead them through hell. "Lies. It's really the only thing I can do well."
"I think what I told you yesterday was wrong," he said and when she looked over to him, the book was open his thumb running over the black ink. "He'd want us to forgive each other, to forgive ourselves. I'm just not sure you or I are the type of person that can."
He mourned for himself, and she could see the cracks of who he once was. His congregation ran to him for a reason, but fear can undo the bravest soul. And in that moment, she truly felt sorry for him.
"Tell them the truth, Gabriel," she said with some affinity, taking steps towards the gate. "There's enough inside these walls lying to them already. Tell them what you saw, the world you know. They'll listen."
He watched as Holly opened and shut the gate for her, tears falling down his cheeks before he gave them permission to.
Outside felt different. The concrete sidewalks and black asphalt of Alexandria were lifeless compared to the vibrancy of the fall colors blooming in the nearby woods. Fallen leaves of deep purples and rich oranges crunched beneath her boots. Rainwater still flooded the bumpy Earth, leaving puddles and the occasional droplet from a tree branch.
The grass rustled beside her, and Carol knelt down so as not to startle whatever small creature was coming her way. A rabbit poked its head through the tall blades, its nose pink and twitching. Two small bunnies appeared at its side, their spots of grey fur matching their mother's. Carol wrapped her hand around the patch of grass beside her boot. She tugged the blades loose, crumbling them up further and offering her hand to the rabbits. They shuffled forward, unsure at first, but their soft whiskers nibbled from her hand. She let the blades fall back to the dirt, and watched as they kept pecking, not once having to think about keeping them for dinner.
She followed them as the scurried off, to a sizeable puddle amongst the thick woods and their prism of leaves. The water was dark, muddy brown and her shadow cast over it without much of a reflection back. She bent down, cupping the water in her palms until black streaks tainted her skin. Her arms thrust lower into the puddle until she was elbow deep, her fingers massaging the soft mixture beneath. She pulled out clumps of the mud, speckled with bits of golden leaves and small round rocks and discarded sticks.
She rubbed it across her forearms and onto her neck and face. Her skin was smeared like it had been with walker guts and clay outside of Terminus. She massaged the sludge into every open part of her, spitting out the dirt that founds its way passed her lips. It was heavy on her skin, and she let it hold her together like glue until she was sure it had dried.
When she made it back home she left her muddied boots out on the porch. She still dripped through the hallway and up the stairs to the bathroom, where she stripped and cast her soiled clothing to the corner. Steam from the shower broke through the mold before she could even feel the hot water against her. She watched as the dirt swirled around the drain until the water cleared, and nothing was falling off her. Until she was clean.
Her skin was nearly pink when she finally looked at herself in the full length mirror tucked into the corner of her bedroom. The water was hot and hard, making her sparkle like something newly forged from a dark, stifling place.
Gripping the sides of the mirror, she stepped as close to her reflection as she dared. She stared into her eyes, blues that seemed so dull and strange the day before.
"Sophia is dead," she confessed in a whisper, not allowing herself to look away. "Mika is dead. And you killed Lizzie." Her eyes clenched shut against tears, forcing her into darkness and felt the cool of the glass as she leaned her head against the mirror, the reflection of her forehead touching her own. She opened her eyes barely an inch from the mirror, lost in the swirl of pale blue and dark lashes with droplets handing off them.
"I killed her."
She let go. Rubbing a hand across her eyes and stepping back towards the bed, she allowed herself a last glance in the mirror. She was still there, whole and standing. She seized against the feeling that had coiled around her so tightly since losing them all, and felt it unclench. A ragged breath went through her, her whole body shuddering as it did. She felt it and it was still there, but it didn't hurt so much.
Dinner was made and set and eaten by happy faces that let out thick belches in thanks. When she finally let Rick take over the clean-up, she drifted straight towards Daryl's room without meaning to.
He was sitting at the windowsill, restringing his crossbow, checking the tautness, but he turned when he felt her in the room. She slid close to him, kissing his lips like it was a normal thing to do, and the corners of his mouth perked up in that almost smile.
"You okay?"
"Gotta be," she grinned at their inside joke, but he didn't share the smile.
"I'm serious. You seemed different at dinner, I don't want to say happier, but I don't know how else to say it."
"I'm not okay," she said, cursing herself at the way she drew away from him on instinct, even if the movement was slight. "And yesterday I was just tired of pretending that I was. I wanted to know what it was like, even for a day, to not squash all the pain down."
"You can tell me about it," his hand reached for her, crossbow forgotten at his feet as he clasped around her upper arms. "No matter what it is, I won't judge you or nothin'."
"I know," she tried to smile, a real one that would light her up even in the dimmest room, but even boulders that had been withered away are still heavy. "But these are my demons. They were Tyreese's too, but he's gone now, so they're all mine. And I know you, I know how you are and I don't want you to have them. They belong to me."
He nodded in understanding, and the only way he pressed her was with his lips gently against her forehead.
"Just," she said quietly, meeting his eyes with her own, "Tell me when something good happens."
Through the walls a lullaby seeped through, the floors creaking lightly as Michonne rocked Judith to sleep. Carol's heart skipped, and she kissed Daryl one more time, a promise to be come right back as she crept into the makeshift nursery.
Michonne handed Judith off to Carol with a yawn of gratitude. The door shut and it was just the two of them. Judith looked at her, eyes wide and curious, just like they were when she stared up from beneath Lizzie's dripping knife. It'd been a while since she held her and Judith was heavy against her chest as she babbled sleepily into Carol's neck. It was a weight she didn't mind carrying.
She settled her down into the crib, pulling a blanket around her that was like new. The door creaked open and she expected it was Rick, but when she turned to let him know that she was asleep it was a different figure striding towards her.
"She ate three meals today," Daryl whispered, joining her as they looked into the crib together. "Just like she's eaten the past few days. Had some snacks too. She's been washed every day, and hasn't slept in a pile of leaves and bugs for over a week now."
He leaned over the crib bars, brushing against the soft hairs that framed Judith's his face, his finger so much rougher than her fair skin. "I'd say that's something pretty good that's happened."
She didn't know if there was a quota on how many bad things Judith could be a silver lining for. What she had done for her was awful and terrible and unforgivable, but, it was a good thing. The baby gurgled, rolling to her side as her first clutched around the blanket just as Daryl took Carol's hand in his own.
She let the last bit of her restraint go as he tugged her away from the crib and back to their room.