A/N: Although the hiatus wasn't very long, it sure felt like forever! Very glad to be back, and looking forward to what the rest of the season has in store.
Many, many thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, or messaged me.
I own nothing!
Chapter Fourteen: Nebraska
Carol was sitting in the back of the RV, mending one of Daryl's shirts, when it happened.
In an unusually clumsy moment, he tripped as he was walking into the small cabin and slammed right into the corner cabinet.
The door, which Dale had warned them about many a time but never bothered to fix, flew open, and all of Sophia's old things came tumbling out.
"Shit," Daryl mumbled.
They both knelt down and began to go through the items.
Carol hadn't touched that cabinet since that awful day that Sophia went missing. She hadn't had the heart to, not even when she had cleaned the RV from top to bottom.
There were several blouses and pairs of pants, all of which Sophia had been on the verge of outgrowing. Carol picked up a pair of sneakers and sucked in a watery breath when she noticed the DVD that Daryl had sent Glenn looking for among the rest of the mess.
They were all supposed to watch it together.
But Sophia had never come back, not really. What they had buried hadn't been her little girl. Sophia was still lost out in the woods somewhere. And Carol didn't think there was any romance to it, or anything Evangeline about it, despite the words of comfort that Daryl had tried to offer her.
For so long, his presence had been a comfort to her, the only thing that had kept her spirits up in what had been the darkest time of her life. But now it was too much. She had been foolish to pull him into her life, silly to encourage his affection, and stupid to kiss him. If she lost him, if the same fate that Sophia had met came to him too…
The DVD slipped from her fingers and she shoved all of Sophia's old things aside. She went to sit at the kitchenette, to breathe and to get away from Daryl.
For once, he wasn't able to read her though, and followed her. He sat on the counter, watching her and waiting.
Well, he could wait all he wanted.
She was done. Done hoping for something better, for safety, for a life with this man who had come to mean so much to her.
Because at the end of the day, all you were left with was a cabinet of useless junk and an empty space that had once been taken up by the most important person that had ever happened to you.
. . .
Daryl watched Carol for a while, but she wouldn't even look at him. He didn't really know what to say, so he didn't talk or try to offer empty words of comfort.
He wasn't really sure what she was feeling at the moment. She'd been…well, not exactly okay, but he thought she had been coping as well as she could.
He wished he had cleaned out that cabinet days ago though, when Carol hadn't been around. Daryl could have spared her this moment, this renewed pain.
Maybe she would feel better if they went to see Sophia?
"You been out to visit yet today?"
For a moment, he didn't think she was going to answer, but then she just shrugged.
"Why bother?"
Daryl did not like where this was going.
"Cause that's your little girl."
"That's not my little girl. It's some other…thing. My Sophia was alone in the woods. All this time I thought: She didn't cry herself to sleep. She didn't go hungry. She didn't try to find her way back. Sophia died a long time ago."
Daryl felt something hot and hateful come to life in his chest.
How the hell could she even say that? After everything they had been through trying to get Sophia back, and burying and mourning her together?
He felt a fool now for kissing her the night before. He should have known she was just looking for some comfort, and he'd just been the only person around who might understand.
She was looking out the window again, ignoring him.
Before he could say anything he might regret, he got up and stalked out of the RV leaving her with the mess.
. . .
Looking down at the little cairn, Daryl felt his anger fall away.
Carol had been talking out of hurt.
She'd come around.
Maybe.
But in the meantime, he'd be on his own, mourning a little girl that hadn't been his, no matter how he wanted things to be, and hating that he hadn't been able to bring her home.
"It's not your fault Daryl."
Sophia was standing to his right, looking down on the small pile of stones and the roses he had placed on top.
Now he had another ghost.
"Course it's my fucking fault. I went on ahead, I let you outta my sight, and I wasn't fast enough to find you and bring you home."
"None of that matters. That Walker got me not long after Rick left me by the riverbed."
Daryl hung his head, feeling sick.
Her little hand found his, and she pressed their palms together.
"She'll come around. Just give her time."
Daryl shrugged her off and walked away to go get his bow.
Might as well go hunting.
The group would need food and he wasn't going to sit around while he slowly lost his mind.
. . .
Carol watched Daryl walk away from the grave, looking even angrier than he had when he had left the RV.
She walked over to the small pile of stones and sat on the ground in front of it.
Daryl had been so careful building the cairn, and he'd planted some Cherokee roses at the foot of it. He'd even taken the time to carve a small cross with Sophia's name and dates on it. It had been a labor of love.
But the thing in the ground beneath it wouldn't have been able to appreciate that. This memorial was for Sophia, not for the monster that had come stumbling out of that barn.
Carol looked again at the Cherokee rose in front of her, reaching out to touch the petals. She'd had such hope…
Then anger took her again.
The same anger she'd felt when she'd asked Daryl for the ax hit her full force. An enraged cry left her and she moved before she could really think about what she was doing.
She seized the plant and tore it up, roots and all, her hands shredding the flowers. The rest of them would have to go too. One by one, she worked her way around the swimming hole, tearing the roses to pieces.
They wouldn't be blooming for anyone anymore.
. . .
Daryl heard Carol cry out just as he was picking up his bow.
He took off, running in the direction the sound had come from.
The grave; Carol was by the grave.
He got there just as she stumbled off to the edge of the forest, but he didn't call after her when he saw the devastation she had left in her wake.
Every single rose had been ripped to pieces, the plants torn out of the ground. The one he'd planted by Sophia had taken the brunt of things, and the cross he had spent hours whittling had been smashed to pieces.
The only reason the stones were still in place was because they had been too heavy for Carol to lift.
Daryl felt sick.
For the moment, he decided to let Carol be. Obviously, she wasn't in a good place, and he knew he'd be next to useless for her in the state she was in.
He put his crossbow down and knelt down to clean up the mess.
It took him well over an hour, but he picked up every single petal and put them around the grave.
When he was done, he went off to find some more wood to make a new marker.
. . .
In the end, Daryl found enough timber to make ten crosses if he had to. He'd keep them close by, in case Carol took it into mind again to trash things.
He wandered off, almost to the edge of the property, and took a seat by the old chimney there.
Sophia was with him again, but she wasn't talking. She sat next to him and watched as he began to whittle the stick to a sharp point. He'd make sure it went deep into the ground next time.
Lori found him like that a couple of hours later.
He didn't know what she was doing there, and he didn't much care.
"Movin' to the suburbs?"
Daryl didn't dignify that with a response.
"Listen, Beth's in some kinda catatonic shock; we need Hershel."
The girl'd been messed up since her mother nearly bit her the day before. Looks like she was worse off then he'd thought, but he didn't see how it had anything to do with him.
"Yeah? So what?"
"So I need you to run into town real quick and bring Rick back."
He didn't say anything again. If Rick was off looking for Hershel, he'd be back soon enough. Daryl had more important things to do.
Sophia was silent, watching the exchange between the two.
"Daryl."
Couldn't the woman take a damn hint?
He finally looked up at her, letting his annoyance show loud and clear.
"Your bitch went window shoppin'. You want 'im fetch 'im yourself. I got better things to do."
"What's the matter with you? Why would you be so selfish?"
He shot to his feet then, really pissed off. Daryl was many things, but he had never had the luxury of being selfish, and this bitch had no right tellin' him so.
"Selfish? Listen to me, Olive Oyl, I was out lookin' for that little girl every single day! I took a bullet and an arrow in the process! Don't you tell me I haven't been gettin' my hands dirty! You want those two idiots have a nice ride!"
He sat down again, fuming, but forced himself to return to his task.
Sophia was looking at him, but he couldn't bring himself to meet her big blue eyes.
"I'm done lookin' for people," he mumbled.
Lori stalks off and his knife carves away another layer of bark.
Sophia puts a gentle hand on his leg, offering him comfort he doesn't think he deserves.