Chapter Seven - Still My Carol
Carol felt as if she couldn't breathe, her breaths too rapid, not enough oxygen, and the onset of panic threatening to overwhelm her. Daryl's beloved face swam before her vision, barely visible through the tears coursing over her ashen cheeks … but she could feel. It was real. The sound of gunfire, that last echoing shot as Rick had put down the final savior … it still reverberated within her head with sickening clarity.
She forced a tiny whimper past her trembling lips, trying to speak and failing to form anything which might have resembled words. The darkness of her mind encroached, threatening to drag her back into the abyss. Carol could remember the gunshot and Daryl's horrified gaze as he'd checked her over, running with her through the forest and to the clearing where the RV had been hidden. She could remember his gentle hands as they'd tried to soothe her on the long drive back and their doctor's diagnosis of either a panic attack or a mental break. Daryl's tender ministrations when he'd given her a bath had nearly coaxed her from the dark places of her mind, but they weren't so forgiving, refusing to release her.
She was a slave to a living nightmare, her mind drawing her in to show her the torment of her past. Ed, that day at the lake when he'd hit her in front of the women, but it wasn't the Ed he'd been that day. If only … no, he'd been the chewed-up mess he'd been after the walker attack, his head a gory mess from where Carol had worked it over with the pickaxe, his clawed hands reaching for her. Just as she'd rid herself of them, Karen and David would appear before her, their charred bodies pointing accusing fingers at her. There were more nameless faces of the living she'd killed … at Terminus, during the wolves' attack, at the slaughterhouse, but the worst were the two little girls she'd failed to protect when she'd promised their father she would.
Every time she was certain she could fight her way back to Daryl, she would be drawn deeper, the ghosts of her past too strong to ignore.
Daryl squeezed her hands, trying to make her focus on his face and the hope blazing from his eyes. "C'mon, baby, y' can do this. Deep breaths … like me … in … an' out," he crooned in that steady tone, the very one he used when he rescued her from her nightmares. But she'd won, hadn't she? This time he was real and warm beneath her fingertips and the cloying darkness receded just a bit more.
Another flash of horror skirted across her inner eye and she recoiled, her hands digging into the hair at her temples as she shook her head violently.
"Carol!" he roared, his warm fingers circling her wrists. "Stop, woman, before y' hurt yourself."
Yet, he had no idea of her demons … blood and death and gore … the living and the dead … Karen … David … the scars which blackened her soul with the first lives she'd taken. An act of mercy or merely an excuse to make herself feel better? Lizzie … unable to protect one child, Carol had killed another. If she'd tried harder, perhaps she could have saved her, she castigated herself, barely registering as Daryl moved onto the bed and wrapped her in the comfort of his arms, his solid presence forcing her back to reality. Did she want to go?
A shudder wracked her body. If she pushed her way out of her mind, she knew she wouldn't be able to retreat. She'd have to acknowledge the dead who haunted her every waking moment and face what she'd done … for her family, for those she would sacrifice anything, everything, to protect.
Carol's fingers curled into Daryl's shirt, her face burrowing against his neck as the first full keening sob broke free of her. She didn't hold back, telling him everything in gasping whispers. Her heart ached, terrified of what he must think of her, but there was no turning back. He'd claimed he wanted them to try, and if she was going to have an honest, open relationship with him, she couldn't allow her sins to stand between them.
Calloused fingertips stroked a soothing path along her spine as the words continued to flow from her lips, his own whispers meant to be reassuring rather than placating as she spoke of those she'd killed at the prison and her resulting banishment. "They were dyin', Carol. Y' did them a kindness. Rick was wrong for leavin' y'. He waited 'til I was gone … pulled that shit when he knew I couldn't go after y'." His lips feathered over her brow. "I woulda, y'know, if th' governor hadn't shown up at th' front gate with a tank."
The hardest part was confessing the tragedy at the grove, but even then, he somehow seemed to understand. Her fears he'd hate her were unfounded, just as she'd known but refused to heed the trust she harbored for him in her heart.
"There wasn't no helpin' that girl, sweetheart. Even if y' coulda found th' right meds and a damn good therapist, there's no guarantee y' coulda saved her. Y' couldn't let her hurt anyone else." He held her just a little tighter when he felt another shudder ripple through her. "Say y' brought her back t' th' group an' she succeeded in hurtin' Asskicker or Carl or Maggie … me? Y' never woulda forgiven yourself."
"She w-was a child!"
"Who killed her sister, who didn't understand she couldn't play around with th' walkers, who woulda ultimately gotten herself killed no matter how hard y' tried t' protect her," he hissed stubbornly, trying to make her see.
Carol wept quietly against his collarbone, soaking the front of his shirt with her tears. She knew better than to argue with him, especially when he was convinced he was right. "I killed all those people at Terminus-"
"T' save us. Them or us." It was his turn to fight off a shudder as that day played in vivid technicolor across his mind's eye. "They was butcherin' people like cattle an' servin' them up like a Sunday barbeque." He tilted her chin up with a lone finger, so she could see the horror in his open gaze. "Had us lined up on our knees, woman, seconds from havin' our throats cut when y' caused that explosion. Y' did what you've always done … whatever's necessary t' protect your family."
Carol choked back a sob, realizing just how close she'd come to losing him. They'd all had their close calls in the time since the quarry, but Daryl had taught her how to bury it and not allow it to haunt her every waking step. The nightmares couldn't be helped, but by keeping it hidden in some of the dark recesses of her mind, it had helped her to cope and move on. She couldn't do it this time, however; not when it had been Daryl's life in mortal peril.
"I didn't think … just acted. I knew they had Carl and Michonne … you." She lifted her head from his shoulder and trailed her fingers along his scruffy cheek. "And then I saw y-you … I saw them drag you from that train car and I just … I couldn't l-leave you."
Daryl leaned into her touch, his lips brushing against her palm. "I know y' can take care o' yourself, but … sweetheart, there ain't nothin' I wouldn't do t' protect y'."
Carol's eyes closed, relishing the endearment and the press of his brow to hers, but she couldn't help but feel unworthy of his care. "I'm a m-murderer, Daryl," she murmured, averting her eyes to her fidgeting hands where they clenched at his t-shirt. "I'm a monster."
Daryl's strong hands gripped her upper arms firmly but gently, causing her eyes to snap up to his. "Don't y' give me that shit, woman! Y' ain't gone out there wantin' t' murder anyone. Everythin' y' done was necessary. Every single one o' us have had t' do shit we never woulda done before th' turn, an' it was all so we could survive." His fingers brushed at the tears on her ashen cheeks and his voice gentled. "See these tears? If y' was a monster, y' wouldn't be consumed by remorse."
"But –"
"Naw … there ain't no buts. Don't matter what mask y' put on or what role y' decide y' wanna play, but here," he whispered fervently as he rested his hand over her heart, "y' still my Carol. Y' still the woman who showed me … showed me what it was like to have someone care about me. Y' made me care." His voice broke at the last, tears of his own escaping the corners of his lids as his eyes slipped closed. "Don't y' know how much y' mean t' me?"
Her body shook with fresh sobs as he pulled her into his chest. "Daryl …"
"I shoulda told y' … gawd, so many times. At th' slaughterhouse, damnit, I thought I'd lost y', thought I'd lost my chance t' tell y' how much I love y'." He felt like an ass when Carol just cried all the harder. Her tears alone had the power to break him, but he was determined to keep it together and see her through this. "I ain't never loved someone who wasn't fam'ly, and I know y' deserve better than some uneducated redneck from –"
Carol smiled through her tears and brought her fingers up to cover his lips. "I love you too. You've been my strength, my hope, my reason, Daryl … for so long. But I'm afraid of what's coming."
Daryl gnawed at the inside of his lower lip as she nestled back into his embrace, his mind trying to grasp her meaning. Was she afraid of him, the community's desperate need for supplies, or more groups like the one they'd exterminated the night before? "There ain't no need t' be scared, Carol. We're trying, right? Long as we're together, we'll get through whatever comes at us."
Her fingers twisted in the fabric of his t-shirt with amazing strength, her breath hitching again as she shook her head where it rested on his shoulder. "We don't know how many from Negan's group are still out there, Daryl. That woman who took us – Paula – she was too cocky, confident she didn't have to worry about us because she had more coming to back her up." She shuddered. "I … I dealt with them, but were they the last? And what of that Dwight person you met in the burned forest?"
Daryl stiffened, a low rumbling growl sounding in his chest. "Fucker better hope I never run into him again."
"But didn't you say he and his wife were running back to Negan? They were too afraid of him catching up to them … so much so, they refused your offer to help them," she insisted.
He shrugged, despite the firm set of his jaw. "I can handle that asshole, Carol. They ain't gonna come knocking on th' gate, an' if they do, we'll be ready for 'em."
Carol's eyes flashed hotly as she pushed out of his embrace and rose unsteadily to her feet. "Don't patronize me, Dixon! I'm not gonna let you sit there and talk down to me because you think I might break at any second! I might have to put up with it from the others, but not from you!"
Daryl shot to his feet, a firm rein on his temper as his hands came to settle on her hips to steady her. "Y' have any idea how ridiculous y' sound?" He ignored her burst of outrage, and ducked his head, catching her lips with his own and drawing her into his chest. "I ain't never been nothin' but honest with y', an' y' know it. I meant what I said, Carol … there ain't nothin' we cain't overcome if we're together. You an' me, jus' like we always have." He pressed another kiss to her temple and sighed. "Now y' wanna tell me what's really botherin' y'?"
She relaxed against him, her arms winding around his waist as his fingers carded through her hair. "Not really, but … it was my fault Maggie and I were captured. I hesitated, shooting to wound rather than to kill."
"Why didn't y' tell me? How long y' been strugglin' with this?" Daryl asked, leaning back just enough to meet her tortured gaze.
"A while … since the wolves' attack, maybe longer. Hell, I just don't know anymore," Carol confessed, shaking her head. "Having to kill the living … I think it's making me cold. I'm losing myself, Daryl, and I'm terrified of what I'll become. I have no choice but to kill to protect my family, but it's never enough, and we keep losing people. As long as we have a place like this … somewhere safe, with walls to keep out the walkers, and a decent level of protection, we're vulnerable. Someone is always going to want what's ours, and when they come to take it, I'm going to have to bury someone else I love. I cannot bear the thought of losing you! Can't you understand that?"
Daryl gently brushed away her fresh onslaught of tears and pressed his brow to hers, lending his strength where hers failed, offering her comfort and another little piece of his heart when she needed it most. "Y' ain't th' only one havin' nightmares about losing people. I wake up in a cold sweat a lot of nights when I dream about havin' t' bury y', havin' t' face a future where y' ain't by my side. S'why I fight so hard t' protect this place … t' make sure you're safe." He gently rested his hands against the ivory column of her throat, his thumbs ghosting along her jaw. "Y' ain't gotta do nothin' y' don't feel y' can do, ain't gotta kill anymore. Lean on me, baby, please … whatever y' need."
Carol sighed, leaning into his touch as her heart swelled. "Don't let me turn cold," she pleaded, her voice a broken whisper. "I need you to help me find the person I'm meant to be now. I'm strong and capable, but my heart hurts, Daryl." She leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, her lips ghosting over the mark he bore. "And I think I might need to talk to Denise."
He pulled her into his chest, his arms banding tightly around her, breathing out a sigh of relief to hear the logic in her words. "She was a therapist, Rick told me. Think she might be able t' help y'. It might do y' some good t' have someone t' talk t'."
"Trying, right?" Carol mumbled sleepily against his chest. Having unburdened herself, the weight of the world melted from her shoulders, leaving her drained.
"Mhmm … c'mon, let's get y' into bed so y' can rest." Daryl lifted her into his arms and bore her the few steps to the bed despite her protests, setting her gently in the middle.
Her eyes blew wide with panic as he stood up and anxiously looked towards the bedroom door, debating on whether he should stay or go. "You're going to stay with me, right? I mean … if you want."
His wide shoulders relaxed, and he didn't hesitate to join her under the duvet she'd pulled up to her waist. "All y' had t' do was ask," he murmured softly against her nape as he curled against her back.
Daryl thought she had finally succumbed to sleep several minutes later, but her whisper cut through the silence. "I'm still afraid."
He pulled her back more securely into his body and tightened his hold, curling protectively around her. "Ain't no reason t' be scared. I'm right here, an' whatever we gotta face can wait 'til mornin' … we'll face it together."
*.*.*
Her solitary form lingered next to the bed, unable to let the moment to watch him sleep pass. Carol reached out, her fingers brushing at the hair which had fallen over his eyes during his slumber. God, how she loved him. Tears had left her eyes red and stinging, her face numb, but a small smile bloomed over her lips as she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his brow. Her breath hitched as he grumbled drowsily and rolled onto his side, clutching her pillow and burying his face against its softness, his rest undisturbed.
Silently, she padded from the room, turning the knob so not even a soft click would alert him to her departure. She took a shuddering breath as she moved towards the stairs, the air conditioning a soothing balm to the rawness of her face. She didn't know how long she'd wept, but Daryl hadn't left her side, and he deserved whatever peace sleep might afford him. It tore at her bedraggled heart to pull herself away from his side, but she could no longer stay.
Bare toes curled happily into the plush carpet as she made her way to the kitchen, carrying her further away from Daryl. It was almost a physical ache to be away from him, and her steps quickened so she could return to him with all haste. It was because of him she felt lighter, the constriction in her chest easing enough to allow her to take an easier breath. It would take time – and probably countless sessions with Denise – but she would eventually heal. He loved her – which brought her untold joy – and was determined to show her she didn't have to live with immeasurable guilt when she had only been doing what was necessary in order to protect those she loved.
Carol didn't bother to turn on the fluorescent light in the kitchen, appreciating the soft glow from the bulb over the stove to guide her way. She didn't know how her ravaged eyes would contend with anything overly bright.
Her stomach grumbled again as she went to the pantry to rummage for something quick, frowning at the meager contents. Had the Hilltop not come through on their end of the bargain, or had the supplies just not been divvied up amongst the community yet? Sighing, she brought out a small step stool and dragged it over to the counter. Due to the lingering shaking of her limbs, she was careful as she balanced atop the countertop and reached high above the cabinets in search of the secret stash she kept hidden – mostly foodstuffs she knew Daryl favored – in the small space between the top of the cabinets and the ceiling. She would make sure to set things aside for his hunting sack, not wanting him to get caught off alone in the woods for days at a time with nothing to eat should he get stuck in a tree.
Climbing down, her foot had barely touched the ceramic tile when a voice reached out to her from the shadows of the kitchen table. "So that's where you keep the goodies, huh?"
Carol dropped the can of soup, narrowly missing her foot as her hand flew up to her throat, a small shriek escaping her parted lips. "Richard Grimes!" she hissed out. "How many times have I asked you not to sneak up on me?!"
Rick rose from his seat at the table and approached her cautiously before drawing her trembling form into his arms and pressing a brotherly kiss to her brow. "I'm sorry, I thought you were just ignoring me. I've been sitting there since before you came in here." He let her go to peer down into her blotchy features. "I'd like to say you look a little better than the last time I saw you, but I can't."
Carol snorted and reached for the can which had rolled towards the stove. "Thanks." Her eyes narrowed as she regarded him. "And I'm not hoarding, if that's what you think. I just set a portion of what is given to me aside for Daryl. There are certain things he likes, and well …" She let her voice trail away, knowing he'd understand.
Rick leaned a hip against the island and watched her pour the chicken and stars into a bowl before setting it in the microwave. "Stars, huh?"
Her lips twitched with a touch of mirth. "He likes the stars better than noodles or rice," she explained, true amusement bubbling up in her at the absurdity of discussing canned soup in the middle of the night. It was the first time in longer than she could remember she'd actually felt genuine joyous emotion instead of the counterfeit feelings she was used to projecting to her family.
Rick grabbed a few bottles of water from the refrigerator and brought them over to the table as she sat down with her meager meal. "How are you really, Carol? You have to know you scared the hell out of us. I thought Daryl was going to lose his mind before we got you back to Alexandria."
Carol took several bites, sating her hunger before she met his gaze steadily. "That's only happened to me once before … a long time ago," she whispered darkly. "Thankfully, Ed wasn't here to beat it out of me. Seems like that was his go-to answer for everything." She reached out and squeezed his hand reassuringly before he could offer his sympathy. "It was just a panic attack, Rick."
He raised a skeptical brow. "Are we going to have to worry about a repeat? This gonna happen again?" He scrubbed a weary hand over his face. "I can't take the chance of us going up against these people again and you getting injured because of this. Daryl would never forgive me if anything happened to you."
Carol finished off the last few dregs of soup and rose to bring her bowl to the sink. "I'm dealing with it, ok? I'm going to see Denise, and Daryl is doing his best to help me sort through my issues. I'm going to be alright … I think."
Rick pushed to his feet and moved to her side, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I don't want you to think I want you at a hundred percent because you're one of our best fighters. I want you to get better because we love you, Carol. We might not always show it, but you're the heart of this group. We can't do this without you." He sighed regretfully. "It took me a long while to see that."
She smiled tremulously, her lower lip quivering before she was able to clamp her teeth over it and nod. "I'm not going anywhere."
Thundering footsteps pounded down the stairs, and a streak of blue vest and tousled chestnut hair flew past the kitchen archway on its way to the door. Rick called out to his brother, stopping him before he could run all the way to the front gate in a panic.
Daryl turned and met Carol's gaze where she stood next to Rick in the archway, her long legs bare beneath his own button-up she'd thrown on over her pajamas. "Thought … " He shook his head. "What're y' doin' down here?"
Carol leaned in against his chest as he pulled her into the circle of his arms. Pain flared behind her breastbone to see his fears so on display, a fear she'd left him behind. "I was hungry. I thought I would be back before you woke up." She yawned. "Rick kept me company while I had some soup."
Rick grinned at the possessive hold Daryl had on Carol. It was about time they began to work out what was in their hearts. Lord knows, it had taken them long enough. "I'm gonna grab some shut-eye before Jude decides she's ready to get up. Get some rest, you two."
"Night, Rick," Carol murmured, her voice muffled as Daryl's arms tightened around her. She knew she'd scared him with her absence, the rapid beat of his heart thundering beneath her ear. "Hey …"
"Y' were … I thought … " he stammered. "Didn't know how much of a head start y' had on me."
The guilt he felt for not trusting in her was evident on his face. She ran a hand up his chest and along his shoulder until she could reach his nape, kneading the knot of tension at the top of his spine. "I'm not running, Daryl. I promise, I'm not going anywhere without you," she whispered.
He was too much a part of her now. It would be easier to sever a limb than try to dig him out of her heart. She met him halfway, reaching up on her toes to close the distance between them and accept his kiss.
"Can we go back t' bed now or are y' still peckish?"
Carol snorted. "No, I'm good." And this time, she meant it.
A/n: I need to buy stock in Kleenex. Hope you all enjoyed! I want to thank each and every one of you for all the love and support you've thrown my way for this fic. Y'all rock! Great big buckets of love for BettyBubble, my awesome sauce beta. She pushes and nags and beats me with a metaphorical stick, which I desperately need to keep me focused. Love you so much, darling! Reviews are love!