Chapter 9
"Try again."
"Daryl, we're wasting ammo," Carol muttered, reloading the shotgun like he'd showed her. She'd pretty much mastered the pistol, but the rifle was another animal altogether. The kickback on her shoulder was brutal, and she already had a bump and a bruise there from where the butt had slammed back against her after a series of shots.
"We got plenty. 'Sides, we can always go find more," he offered. Carol made a face.
"It's not like they're still producing it. Sometime, someday there'll be no ammo left, and…"
"And we'll start usin' stick and rocks if we have to. We'll be alright." Carol sighed and aimed the rifle again, this time hitting her target dead center. "See? You're a natural."
"I missed eight times," she pointed out.
"So? When Merle—my brother—was teachin' me, I missed twenty and he kicked my ass. But I learned. I got better." Carol pulled the trigger again, hitting her target once more. "See?" Carol gave him a half-hearted smile and handed the rifle back to Daryl. "It's gonna storm." Daryl looked upward, watching as a thick wall of clouds moved in.
"Yeah. Let's get goin'." They hopped into Daryl's truck and took off to head toward home. "You did good."
"Thanks," Carol said with a smile, running her fingers through her auburn locks. In the past month, she had healed from most of her injuries. She still got a twinge in her wrist on occasion, and she had a fresh, pink scar from where she'd fallen on her knife, but other than that, she was feeling much better.
They drove in silence for a while, and finally, Daryl cleared his throat.
"Why don't you talk about it?"
"What?" she asked, glancing at him from across the cab.
"Your baby," he pointed out, nodding toward the slight swell of her belly, as she tugged the bottom of her shirt, smoothing it over the barely-there swell.
"I don't know," she said with a little shrug. "I guess I'm still not completely used to the idea of it yet."
"Did your husband know?"
"No," she said, biting back the urge to cry, as she did every time she thought about how she'd planned to have an abortion and never let Ed know she'd ever been pregnant. As far as Ed understood, she was unable to have children, considering she never got pregnant. She'd lied to Ed. She'd hated him. And she'd never gathered that strength to protect herself from him until the moment he was beating her in their camp and endangering her child. It had been that moment that she'd really felt like a mother for the first time. "Not until the end. Not until he…" Her voice trailed off, and she flinched at the memory, feeling a twinge in her side as she recalled the force he'd used when he'd kicked the breath out of her.
"You don't have to talk about it," Daryl pointed out. "I mean, I get why ya hid it at first. But ya know I ain't got a problem with it. Even if I did, it's your baby, and I ain't gonna turn you out on your own 'cause you're a mom."
"It wasn't just that," Carol said softly. "I mean, I was worried, yes. I didn't know you. I know you a little better now, and I know you would never do something like that. You've taken good care of me." She smiled a little. "And now you're teaching me how to survive on my own."
"You ain't still thinkin' of leavin'?"
"No. I think you might be stuck with me now." She saw the grin he tried to hide, and it warmed her heart. "Thank you."
"What for?"
"Just for being there. For helping. I know I'm a mess."
"You ain't a mess. You're healin'. You don't talk about it, but I know what your husband did to ya, 'cause my old man used to do the same to my mama." He glanced at her, watching as she blinked back tears, and he felt immediately guilty for bringing it up. "I'm sorry."
"It's ok." Her voice was almost a whisper. "I don't…I didn't have anybody. It was Ed. He's all I had."
"I know. You don't gotta explain."
"Maybe I do. Maybe I have to explain it to myself, because I can't understand why I stayed with him all that time; why I let him hurt me that way."
"You told yourself he didn't mean it. That he loved ya in his way. Then you tell yourself you're gonna leave him, but you don't, 'cause you ain't got nowhere to go. Then you start thinkin' maybe this is the way it's s'posed to be." His face felt hot as the truck bounced down the deserted road. He could feel her eyes on him, and he swallowed hard. "I remember beggin' my mama to leave him. I remember her cryin' on the bathroom floor one night. Shit, I was probably just a baby. Four or five maybe. I just curled up in her lap, and we fell asleep. Woke up the next mornin' in my bed, and she was sleepin' on the floor between my bed and Merle's." He shook his head. "She took care of us. She just couldn't take care of herself."
"I'm sorry, Daryl."
"You don't have nothin' to be sorry for. He's the one that hurt you."
"Yeah," Carol murmured, taking in a slow breath.
"But he can't hurt you anymore." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her look at him.
"I don't want to talk about Ed anymore," Carol said quietly before turning her attention back to the road.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize, for God's sakes," she snapped. The words bit through him, and he glanced at her, seeing her shrinking back in her seat. "I'm sorry, Daryl."
"It's none of my business. I just…I wanted you to know you ain't alone." He heard her take a shaky breath before she turned and stared out the window, watching the land pass them by.
Carol locked her bedroom door and stripped down to nothing but her underwear and bra. Daryl had cleared the room out for her a few weeks ago, and she quite liked it, though it was a bit masculine for her taste. But she was grateful for a bed to sleep in and a roof over her head, though sometimes at night she could hear the snarls of walkers in the distance, and it sent a chill right down her spine.
As she looked herself over in the mirror above her dresser drawer, she placed her hand flat against her stomach, turning to the side to see the swell in her stomach. Most of the bruises were long gone, save for a couple of them that were almost completely faded. She was thin. Too thin for a pregnant woman, but she ate when she could and made sure to take her vitamins. Daryl was always trying to get her to eat his leftovers, and she always refused, because the last thing she wanted to do was take from him. He was a good man who had helped her more than anybody in her entire life, and all she could do was cry at night and snap at him when he tried to comfort her and ease her mind over the abuse she'd suffered. She felt like a horrible person, and he never bat an eye at it. Today in the car, she'd snapped at him, and he'd taken it. He was a very patient man, she'd realized, putting up with her as she pulled herself back together and tried to remember what it was like to live in a world without Ed Peletier.
"I don't know who you are," she whispered, gently caressing the small swell of her stomach. "I'm scared for you. I'm scared, because I know you're part of him, too. I believe we're all born innocent. I have to believe that, because you couldn't be like him. You couldn't." She closed her eyes and felt the tears burning there. She took a shaky breath, her fingers gently dancing across the soft skin of her stomach. "I don't know what I'm doing."
Her hand ran up to a small car along her ribcage. She remembered the night he'd pulled a knife across her skin, dragging it deep enough to bring the blood, shallow enough that she wouldn't need stitches. She remembered him hissing into her ear, telling her she deserved it. He'd never told her what she'd done to deserve it, but Ed rarely did. When he wanted to hurt her, he hurt her. It was as simple as that.
She wrapped her arms around herself, shuddering at the memory. He'd left his mark on her, and it was something she'd live with forever. You might have left your mark on me, Ed, but not on this baby. Never on this baby. This is mine. This is for me. Not for you."
A soft knock came to the door, and Carol quickly pulled on a change of clothes.
"Just a minute," she called out, sliding a sweater over her head. When she was decent, she opened the door, coming face to face with Daryl.
"Hey," he said quietly, standing a bit awkwardly in the doorway. "You sure you're ok?"
"I'm fine. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I just…"
"I get it," he said with a little shrug. "Ain't easy to talk about."
"No, it's not," she said with a sigh, "but…I don't sleep at night, Daryl. Not really. I start to fall asleep, and then I dream about Ed, and then I wake up crying. I don't miss Ed. I hate him. And I hate…" She took a deep breath and looked away. "I hate myself for being weak. I hate myself for letting him make me weak." Daryl swallowed hard and watched her from across the threshold. "I don't ever want to be that woman that showed up at your doorstep. Never again." She shook her head. "I want to find the woman I used to be before I let Ed shape me into his punching bag." She blinked back the tears. "I'm sorry, Daryl."
"You don't gotta apologize." Carol gritted her teeth and held onto the doorknob with a white-knuckle grip.
"What's wrong with me? I look in the mirror, and I don't even know what I see anymore. What kind of person lets someone do a thing like that? What kind of person lets someone chip away everything that makes them who they are and leaves them a shell of a person?" Daryl backed up a little, leaning against the hallway wall.
"A person like me." He swallowed hard. "We both know what it's like to have somebody who's supposed to love you use you as a punching bag when they can't handle their own shit. They put that on us, and we take it. We take it 'til we can't anymore. We fight back."
"I didn't fight back," she whimpered, brushing her tears away. "Not until the end. Not until I realized he was really going to kill me; kill this baby. I told him and he stopped, and then…"
"I know," he murmured. "I ain't gonna pretend I know what you went through. It's always different, but it's always the same. They don't get to win. We just fight through it." Carol took a couple of breaths, swallowing the lump in her throat, and she pressed her hand against her stomach. Daryl's gazed moved from her eyes to her hand upon her belly, and he gave her a little nod. "You got a lot to fight for, you know?"
"I know," she breathed. "I know."
