AN: There's a time jump here.
I hope that you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
Carol wasn't perfect, but Daryl had never believed that this world really had perfection to offer. Still, she was as close to perfect as Daryl thought he'd ever seen in a human being.
Daryl was often amazed at how effortlessly Carol seemed to do everything. She might not be perfect at everything she did, but she was close enough to scare the hell out of perfection itself.
Carol said she wanted to stick close to Daryl, so she never left his side. Wherever he went, Carol was with him. She didn't want to be left at any camp that they might set for themselves and Daryl honored her wishes. Along the way, Carol had learned to kill Walkers as though they were little more than pests that needed to be dealt with. She'd learned to shoot and hit most of what she aimed for. She'd learned to set traps and snares and more than once she'd caught more for their supper than Daryl had. She'd learned to track, as well, though that was one area where she still preferred to rely on Daryl rather than taking the lead for herself.
Carol could set up their camp, break it down, skin whatever they had for supper, and cook so that just about everything tasted good enough for Daryl to ask if he might finish off anything she left behind on her plate.
Carol wanted to learn everything and she was a quick study at anything she tried to learn. She amazed Daryl with how quickly she picked things up and how patient she could be while she was waiting for him to figure out the best way to teach her new things.
She was teaching Daryl new things too.
For the first time in his life, Daryl learned how to keep his temper even when he was frustrated with the world because a harsh word or an unnecessarily loud volume made Carol flinch and he never wanted her to flinch because of something he'd done. He learned that the touch of someone else could be the most wonderful feeling in the world. He also learned that he had the power, with his own touch, to do things that seemed to bring Carol to life in a way that belonged only to him.
Carol was teaching Daryl what it felt like to care so much for someone else that he would have rather died himself than let anything happen to her.
She terrified him and fascinated him at the same time.
And Daryl wanted to give Carol the world, but he couldn't even give her the one thing that she wanted most.
Carol sat in front of the fireplace at the house they were staying in and tended the fire that she'd cooked supper over so that it wouldn't burn out. It was chilly in the house, but Daryl doubted they'd freeze to death if the fire went out. Still, Carol wasn't going to take the chance. She sat, tending the fire, and stared at the flickering flames like they held some kind of secret to life.
Daryl sat on the mattress that he'd moved to the living room floor and studied the map he'd found, carefully marking off the most recent steps of their travels.
"There's still this whole area here," Daryl mumbled to himself more than anything. "We ain't covered it. Been all around it, but we ain't covered it. Looks like we avoided even steppin' foot in it, to be honest."
"And Sophia didn't either," Carol said.
Daryl looked up from the map and stared at her. His stomach caught.
It was the first time in a very long while that she'd said anything to him about his plans. Usually she just went along with him. She never said a word about where they were going or what they were doing. She'd stopped, a good while ago, even bringing up the fact that they were still looking for her daughter.
"We don't know that," Daryl said.
He couldn't even believe his words anymore and he saw a soft smile on Carol's lips that told him that she didn't believe him either.
"Daryl—I think it's time to admit that Sophia's gone," Carol said.
Daryl's stomach twisted around itself like some invisible hand was wringing it out like a cloth.
"You don't even look..." Daryl said, but he couldn't finish.
"Sad?" Carol asked, raising her eyebrows at him. "Hurt?"
Daryl nodded his head.
"I'm sad," Carol said. "I'm very sad. And—there's an ache in my chest that, honestly? I can hardly breathe sometimes. It wakes me up at night. I'm looking for her—checking for her. Just like I did when she was a baby. And it hits me, all over again, that she's just gone. But—Daryl? I've known it for a long time. I've been doing my mourning. I'm not happy about it, but I've made my peace with it. She's in a better place. She's—happy. And she's safe. Now? She's not hungry or scared or sad. She's just—in a better place."
Daryl shook his head at her.
"She might still be out there..." he said.
"Are you saying that for me, Daryl?" Carol asked. "Or are you saying that for you?"
Daryl swallowed.
"I just don't want..." Daryl said, but he stopped again. He was used to talking to Carol. They had long and winding conversations—the longest he'd ever had in his life. They filled their evenings with conversation. Carol actually listened to what he said and she seemed interested in all of it. Daryl felt like he'd said more to Carol in the past few months than he'd said in his entire life before meeting her. But, suddenly, all his words were getting jammed up in his throat again, like they used to do, despite the fact that his mind was running a thousand miles an hour with all the ideas he could possibly have running into each other.
But Carol was patient with him. She was always patient.
"What don't you want, Daryl?" Carol urged gently.
"Don't want you to give up," Daryl managed. He folded the map messily and put it to the side. There was no need searching there for something that he wouldn't find on the paper.
"On Sophia?" Carol asked. "I could never entirely give up on Sophia. She's my baby. She always will be, even if I can't see her anymore. But—I had to give up on finding her, Daryl. It was too much to spend every day thinking that today might be the day we find her and then going to bed with that kind of disappointment. That's too much to carry around. It was weighing me down. I couldn't keep up carrying something like that."
"I'd help you carry it," Daryl said.
"And you have," Carol said. "And you do. But I'm not giving up, Daryl. Not on—on life? I'm not giving up on that. Maybe I would have, once upon a time, but I'm not that person anymore. Before? I would have thought that I couldn't survive. Now? I'm surviving."
"You more set to survive than even I am," Daryl said.
Carol laughed to herself.
"I wouldn't go that far," Carol said.
"I would," Daryl said. "Bein' honest? If it weren't for you? I can't say I'da kept goin' this long."
"And I know that I wouldn't have kept going this long without you," Carol said. "But—I think it's time for us to start talking about what's really happening. It's time to start talking about—what's really in front of us."
Daryl's stomach had untangled itself a little from the tight feeling that it had before, but now it somewhat tightened again to remind him that it wasn't entirely comfortable with everything that was going on. Carol wasn't giving up. She was there. She was staying in the world and she had no intention of trying to leave it, even if she would still need time to mourn her daughter.
But he didn't know what might be going on in her mind, and Carol was just as capable as he was of surviving this world—even if she ever had to go it alone by choice or by chance.
"What's in front of us?" Daryl asked. "You—leavin'?"
Carol made a sound almost like a laugh that she cut off at the exact moment that it attempted to escape her body. She abandoned tending her fire and crawled across the floor until she reached the mattress. Then she crawled across the mattress to Daryl and planted a soft kiss on his lips that surprised him a little.
She leaned her face next to his ear and Daryl shivered when her breath blew against him.
"I'm never leaving you," Carol said. "I've told you that before. I'll tell you again—every day if I have to. I will never leave you. Not by choice."
Daryl's stomach let go of its tightness then and he felt like his entire body flooded with a relaxing warmth.
"What's in front, then?" Daryl asked, moving to catch Carol and pull her close to him. She pulled away from him to gain enough freedom to change her position slightly and then she settled, willingly, next to him to rest somewhat reclined against him.
"The future, Daryl," Carol said. "The future is ahead of us." She laughed to herself. "If I'm planning on surviving, and you're planning on surviving, then we've got to talk about that."
"What about it?" Daryl asked.
"What do you want it to be?" Carol asked. "What—kind of future do you want?"
"Shit," Daryl said. "I don't know. Nobody's ever asked me that before."
"I'm asking you," Carol said.
"What do you want?" Daryl asked.
"I asked you first," Carol said with a laugh.
"I don't know," Daryl admitted. "I'd have to think about it."
"Think about it, then," Carol said. "We've got plenty of time."
Daryl thought about it for a second, but a second wasn't going to be long enough to answer a question like what he wanted the future to look like. Still, he had some ideas.
"I guess—only thing I know for sure right now is...I want you in it," Daryl said.
"You've got that," Carol said. "I can promise you that. You've got that."
111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
Michonne felt desperate. There was no other word for it. She leaned against the wall and gave into, for just a moment, the tears that she felt choking her when she looked at the pathetic contents of the duffle bag.
She was trying to save a life with aspirin, bottled water, and prayer. And, for right now, prayer was the only thing she had in abundance.
Michonne hadn't prayed so hard or so often in a long time.
But the life she was trying to save had become, to her, the most precious life that there was. The life she was trying to save mattered more to her than her own because, if that life was lost, Michonne didn't really feel that her own was worth living any longer.
She'd once relished being alone in this world for the very reason that she didn't want to lose anyone else. Now she still didn't want to lose anyone, but she no longer relished the taste of freedom and solitude.
She loved Andrea. She wanted her. She needed her.
She wasn't prepared to lose her.
But the clinics were picked clean. The stores were picked clean. Michonne was breaking windows and rummaging through bathroom cabinets and car glove boxes for what little bit of supplies she was finding now.
She had left Andrea as safe as she could, locked in a meat locker, to go out looking for supplies. The fever would burn Andrea out before long if Michonne couldn't get it under control. It wasn't getting any better. It was getting worse.
They needed to move on and Michonne didn't know how far they'd have to go to get what Andrea needed. She didn't know how picked over the world around them was. She didn't know if the next town would offer anything or if they'd just get there to be disappointed.
She didn't even know how to save Andrea's life if she had everything in front of her that she dreamed she might need.
Michonne didn't even know how she'd get Andrea to wherever they were going since the woman's strength couldn't hold out very long, even if she was trying to be stoic about it all.
But Michonne had already decided that she'd walk all the way to hell if she had to, carrying Andrea every step of the way, if that's what it took to save her life.
Michonne wasn't going to lose her. She wasn't prepared to lose her. She couldn't.
If she lost Andrea, Michonne was sure that she'd lose herself too. And, honestly, she was almost certain that now she'd welcome the sweet release of death over living in this world without Andrea.
That wasn't a life that she wanted.