Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: This is a 'soul bond' or 'soul mate' style story. To my knowledge no one has taken a crack at this particular trope in the fandom, so this is more an experiment than anything. In this particular version, I am using a 'tattoo' or 'mark' to show how a soul bond presents itself.
Warnings: *Contains: soul bond/true mates/soul mate trope, illusions to domestic violence, spoilers for the first three seasons, adult language, adult content, AU after the fall of Atlanta, angst, UST and more.
Tied
Chapter Nine
"Man, you couldn't have waited till we got back?" he growled, pacing, mind going a million miles a minute as he tried to process what Rick had just said. He'd left Carol, abandoned her. How he could have-
"Until Tyreese got back?" Rick replied. The man's posture was on point – but the words were rehearsed, like he'd practiced this conversation in the mirror on the drive home. His hackles rose, something stunk here, and it wasn't the biters. This wasn't as simple as Rick was making it out to be, that was for god damned sure.
"I could've handled that," he rumbled, turning away, believing it even as his attention flipped, going inward – searching. But the bond was silent. Still.
"Hey. Hey. She killed two of our own. She couldn't be here."
He didn't believe it.
There was a ringing, tinny and persistent between his ears as Rick paused, fixing him with that look – the same look he'd gotten after he'd killed Shane, when they'd lost Lori. It was the look of a man who was struggling just to stay afloat. He cocked his head as the thought registered. Rick wasn't exactly in the best shape to be making any judgement calls, especially considering the past few days. Tyreese hadn't been the only one who'd lost it.
"She's gunna be all right. She has a car, supplies, weapons - she's a survivor," Rick added, but he barely let him finish. He seized on the coattails of the man's hesitation and threw Rick's words right back at him – calling him out.
"Stop saying that like you don't believe it!" he snarled, tone flinty - biting as Rick stood his ground.
It wasn't her.
"She did it. She said it was for us. That's how it was in her head. She wasn't sorry," Rick replied, gaze searching, looking for his acceptance, only he wasn't listening.
He would'a known if she'd done it. Probably even felt it.
In his experience, shit like that flowed through the bond like water through a sieve, it was almost impossible to block out. You couldn't control what came through, strong emotions, the odd passing thought, somehow it all found its way through. Her grief after losing Sophia. Hell, she'd known about Merle long before the Triumph had kicked up a dust trail. She'd been waiting for him at the gates when he'd pulled up– blood stained and streaked with salt tracks. She'd known and she'd been there for him.
But now she was gone. Alone. And he was stuck here.
The cat walk rattled under his feet.
"Man, that's her, but that ain't her," he finally replied, tone low and dangerous in a way that made Rick reel back, acting like he'd gone ahead and slapped him rather than closed the space between them.
He took a breath, lips twisting as he weighed the odds. She wasn't dead. He would have felt that, joined her more than likely. She was strong, his girl. A survivor. She'd come a long way from the broken bird that had stuck to the side-lines at the quarry. But you couldn't make it on your own anymore. None of them could. Especially not out in the wild.
Leaving her out there wasn't justice.
It was a death sentence.
He took a moment to think on it, every bone in his body objecting at the delay, when he realized that even if she had done it, his gut reaction remained the same. Karen and David had been good people – decent. But this was Carol. Even if she had ganked them, there had to be a reason, an end game. If Rick couldn't see that, well, tough shit. Wasn't like he hadn't gone dark side once or twice, hell even his boy had-
He shook himself, gritting his teeth as his hair fell over his eyes – hiding them from view. He turned on his heel, pacing. Honestly, he wasn't even thinking in terms of if she'd done it. He didn't fucking care. All he cared about was her – about how he was going to get her back. There was no room for anything else.
"You had no right to drive her out," he finally spat, shoulders hunching, curling inward as he got right up in the man's face – all stale breath and old sweat before he advanced. "That ain't how we do things anymore, you said so yourself."
"She killed Karen and David, in cold blood! She admitted it!" Rick exclaimed, blue eyes narrowing in the corners like he hadn't anticipated this, like he'd just assumed he'd lie back and take it like some little bitch. Not fucking likely. It would take more than a good story and some shoddy-ass detective work before that happened.
He wasn't sure which was more insulting, the assumption or the circumstances.
"That's not how we deal with our own," he grated, "thought we were better than that." The reference to the Governor aired out unpleasantly, filling up the space between them like something ugly.
Rage and disappointed betrayal rose, thick and acrid in the back of his throat as a dozen different emotions rose up at once. Only this time they were all his and she wasn't there to temper them – to balance him out just like she always did.
The sudden absence was chilling, wrong – rotten.
He couldn't feel her.
He was alone.
The back of his eyes stung.
"She couldn't come back here, not after this – what she did. I wouldn't let her near-"
He bit down on the inside of his cheek until he tasted crimson.
"Daryl, why are you being so-"
Rick's words cut off in mid-sentence when he suddenly doubled over, a fiery burst of heat issuing from his mark as the entire room seemed to spin – shifting on its axis as his back slammed into the railing.
"Daryl? Daryl?!"
He clutched his chest, nails sinking through the tired fabric, popping one of the seams it as a ripple of dry heat ricocheted. He blinked, eyes stinging as something tangible flickered through the maelstrom; it played out in the back of his mind like a memory, like an action scene straight from a Hollywood blockbuster – only in real time.
There was a glint of a knife.
A horrible face.
Snapping teeth.
A burst of adrenaline.
A push forward, then-
He felt the weight of her cry like it'd come from his own lips when she sunk her knife deep into the walker's skull, twisting until it went limp. It slid to the ground in a heap, only half a foot from where it'd pinned her - a house, solid brick with shattered windows at her back - before she wrenched herself away, running.
She was alive.
He came back to himself slowly, blinking as the feeling tapered off. He winced as he levered himself up, mark aching but bearable. Feeling strangely as though he'd just missed the lightning bolt as the aftermath of the scene flashed across his eyelids, distorted and bright. He didn't remember closing them.
He took a moment and just breathed. Wishing fervently that Dale was still around. Dale would have known what to do. And not just about all this soul mate crap either. Though, getting some insight on that front right about now certainly wouldn't hurt.
Because he'd never heard of anything like this, to lapse that far into the other that you saw through their own eyes? That shit wasn't normal. It couldn't be, even for them.
His eyes snapped open, remembering where he was, only to find Rick staring back at him like he'd never seen him before. For a fleeting moment he thought he could get away with it. Figuring he could make up some excuse, a headache or whatever. But a second later he watched as the puzzle pieces fit together across Rick's face and he knew the jig was up.
"But, you and her? You never said-" Rick started, looking like he'd just been clocked with a two-by-four as his free hand came up, still bandaged, massaging his forehead. And despite the circumstances, he knew the feeling.
"I didn't know," Rick offered, stating the obvious as he shot him a dark look. There was just enough heat to it that the man actually flinched – having lost the dead calm – the surety that had been there only a few moments before. And while that by itself was gratifying, it wasn't exactly what he was looking for.
"Would your decision have been any different if you did?" he asked, bowing his head as he leaned up against the railing, skin still tingling, a buzz of raw nerve endings and static as he tried to sort through the jumble. The bundle of threads that existed in the back of his mind - the one's he'd labelled as hers a long time ago - ebbed and flowed, muted but reassuring.
The pause that followed was awkward.
He broke it with a grunt.
"What are we supposed to do about those two girls?"
"I told her we'd look after them. I haven't told Tyreese yet. I don't know how he's gonna take it," Rick answered, tone softer now, watching him out of the corner of his eye with a newfound understanding – like he was trying to get a handle on something he didn't quite understand. But he just shook his head, pushing off from the railing as he made to speak.
"Let's go find out."
Less than half an hour later, the Governor rolled up to their gates.
A/N #1: Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think! Reviews and constructive critiquing are love! – There will be one more chapter and this story will be at close! Stay tuned! * Thank you to yearningflush, whowhatsitwhich, and alyriaa for their help with transcribing dialogue for the Rick and Daryl scene from the episode. - Please note that most of the dialogue is taken directly from the show, but with some bits added that are of my own creation.
