Chapter 25 The Morning After Part 1
It's a nice day but the mood at the prison is naturally bleak. People are worried about what is happening to Carol at the Governor's hands and Rick is in another zone, lucky him. Some AU/ supernatural elements. And there's gonna be all kinds of fallout from the events from the night before and there's debts to be paid and promises to be kept.
How/will they get Carol back and what kind of condition will she be in? And will the Governor finally be defeated?
i.
The dawn chorus woke him shortly before the sun rose, shining through the grilled bars of the cell onto his face. Bathed the sleeping young girl's face lying next to him – making her look even younger.
But he didn't have to sleep alone no more. He turned his head and breathed in Beth – she always smelled of honey – and he liked to bury his head in her hair, even after a hard day's work outside doing things like putting down Walkers through the fence. Must be the baby oil she used when she took care of the baby most nights with him.
He sighed contently because he didn't have to shy away from another's touch no more.
Not from the touch of a lover.
Her arms were warm, still around him like they'd been when he fell asleep.
'Cos she was there beside him and he almost laughed out loud as she gave an unladylike snore because she always insisted that she didn't.
Then it hit him. They'd been caught unprepared by an alliance between Randall's people (their leader was a guy who was dirtier, scruffier and rougher looking than even him - called Mac) and the Woodbury leader. He wanted to rip their throats out and watch them bleed. He'd given Carol to them to save his teenage girlfriend. Had he made the right choice? He suddenly hated the sun, and the sound of the birds when he'd always loved nature when it had always been a kind of haven for him. Where he felt safe. And Rick was broken, useless. How could they sing so happily when their whole fuckin' world had come crashing down on them?
He felt a surge of anger and resentment towards the leader then because this should never have been his choice. His fuckin' responsibility. He never wanted to be no leader anyway but he would have probably told Rick to save Beth anyway. But then it wouldn't have been his final decision.
Of course, it would have killed him to lose her.
He was gonna make that man wake up – beat him awake if he had to.
At the thought of what tortures the Governor was no doubt already inflicting on Carol, he shuddered. What was he doing to her right at this moment? Would he scar her like he was scarred? Would he violate her?
A chill ran down his spine as he remembered the way the Governor had looked at him, had touched him.
Of fuckin' course he would. Daryl never shied away from the reality – would probably be dead by now if he had. Unlike Rick, he thought resentfully. And he couldn't sit around and wait for the others to plan a rescue. But she was strong. He had to hope that she would hold out until he could get to her. Maybe he could try and use his gift and find out where exactly she was being held – probably the same place he'd been when he was there. However, he'd been too exhausted and drained last night to try but then, it didn't always work.
But if it did, they could plan a rescue that might have a chance in hell of being successful. Although he knew that that crazy bastard would be expecting it.
But he couldn't do it alone neither. Was Rick back? If not, he knew he''d have to try and him back and he thought he knew how. If it worked. He couldn't waste any more time he thought as he gently disengaged Beth's arms from around him so that he didn't disturb her. She stirred but didn't wake up – probably exhausted by her ordeal. He should let her sleep.
First, though, he had to do something. And to be honest, he was dreading seeing what was happening to the woman who hadn't been afraid to reach out to him first. Who had made him feel safe. Who understood. And anyway, whatever what was happening, he wouldn't be able to stop it. Could only stand there and watch.
Torture himself as she was being tortured. That's even if he could go walking.
ii.
About an hour later, Beth stirred and felt her arms empty and panicked for a moment but then reasoned Daryl wouldn't do anything rash – like go storming off to Woodbury by himself? Get himself killed on a pointless suicide rescue mission? He wouldn't, would he? No matter how much he wanted to get Carol back? He'd wanted to go last night as soon as the enemy left the gates but the others had convinced him of the futility of it in his exhausted state. And that the Governor would be expecting this and worse – would even welcome it. No, they had to be smarter than that, do something Woodbury wouldn't expect. But what?
It still hurt like hell to leave someone behind.
Meanwhile, the guilt gnawed at her now that Carol was probably a dead woman despite the Governor's assurances. Would die a slow and horribly, painful death instead of her. Might even be ... – she knew what kind of people the enemy were from up close experience and she didn't even want to think about that. For her. Why? She wasn't worth it – she wasn't a good person, not like Carol. She was jealous, spiteful and selfish. She'd been downright rude to the mild woman when she'd warned her to stay away from Daryl. But she'd wanted him so much. Had deliberately shut her out. Hadn't known that the woman had so little time left. Should she tell him? How would he react? He'd be angry – maybe regret choosing her. He'd probably dump her. Despise her forever. And she couldn't stand that Carol would suffer for her sake.
But she couldn't even say that she wished Daryl hadn't chosen her – 'cos she weren't strong, she was a coward. She knew that the first time they hurt her, she would cry and scream for mercy. After all, she had silently begged Daryl to choose her with her eyes and when he had, she'd breathed a sigh of relief.
She weren't worth it. Had been stupid enough to get herself caught – had been a liability. Daryl would realise this and he would dump her. Despise her forever. And anyway, she was afraid that everyday she would be a reminder of his guilt, his regret – his bad decision. Of the woman he'd lost – had sacrificed for her. That he would eventually grow to resent her.
She forced herself despondently to get out of bed when on normal days (so-called normal days around here were when no-one died or was attacked) she was happy-go-lucky. But she remembered she hadn't always been like that – just after most of her family had been wiped out in the Apocalypse and she'd wanted to join them. Had had her own breakdown just like the ex-Sheriff was having now.
She found that she didn't blame Rick at all.
iii.
Daryl threw his boots on and had a quick wash. Strode along purposefully on his way to the Infirmary. No-one called out 'Hi' or 'Mornin' to him, like they normally did, everybody was feeling down, naturally. Even the relative newcomers who didn't know Carol that well – the black mood was over the whole prison. They'd sacrificed one of their own. He had to find Rick – know what the situation was with him because maybe he had a plan.
One of the new women, a blonde about fortyish – Sandra, he thought her name was – called out to him. Tried to make him take a bowl of porridge but he didn't have time, 'No!' he almost yelled at her. He felt a little bad when he saw her astonishment at his apparent rudeness but then she didn't know him very well. Anyway, how could anyone expect him to think about food when Carol was a prisoner of that sadistic psycho who God knows what was doing to her? While they were sitting around doing nothing? And the anxiety for her was making his stomach feel like it was doing cartwheels.
He burst into the Infirmary and startled Herschel and on of his aides – a young dark-haired man with basic medical training. Johnny had been half-way through medical school in town when the Apocalypse broke out.
But even a half-baked doctor was better than none.
'How is he?' Daryl asked abruptly without so much as a 'Good Mornin'. No time to waste.
They knew who he meant. The vet shook his head and waved over to a bed drawn with curtains.
'How's Beth holding up? Not feeling bad, is she?' Her father asked him.
'She's OK.' Daryl curtly brushed his question off, got back to the urgent matter at hand. 'I wanna see 'im.' He demanded.
'Go ahead. But don't be shocked. We had to restrain him.' But Daryl was making a statement, not asking for Permission.
He went to the bed and roughly jerked back the curtains and then took a step back without meaning to. Because despite Herschell's warning, he was shocked at his friend'sappearance, only partly because in the space a few hours, the leader seemed to have shrunk somehow. Been diminished.
Rick was pale with dark shadows under his eyes. There were cuts and swollen bruises over his head and face and his knuckles were scraped raw and bloodied too. Blood seeped even through the bandages. Worst of all, his hands and feet were tied to the raised bars of the hospital bed with the soft restraints used for mental patients. His unseeing eyes were upturned towards the ceiling and he made no sign that he knew that he was there. And Daryl hated restraints, cuffs of any kind. He trembled for the man he had started to think of as another brother.
'He was banging his head against the wall in one spot when we found him. Lucky he didn't have time to do much damage. Looks worse than it is.' Herschel had come up beside him. 'Then he just went like this.'
Daryl couldn't help but be shocked. 'Banging his head against the wall in one spot? Last time he was at least movin', up and about - killin' Walkers and shit. That mean he worse this time?'
Herschel looked at the Hunter in surprise at his insight. 'I'm no expert but it would seem so...'
'Fuck.' Daryl rubbed his eyes and Johnny stared at him. 'What we gonna do?'
'It could be some kind of catatonic shock, a purely psychological disorder, nothin' physically wrong with him.' Johnny contributed. 'He opens his mouth for food and drink when we give it to him.'
'Real great time to have a breakdown when we had the enemy knockin' on our door last night. Way to go, man.' Daryl snarled at the unconscious man and advanced nearer to the bed.
'Son, that's really not going to help ...'
But he couldn't contain his anger and betrayal at the leader they'd all trusted so long, who had now abandoned them. He clenched his fists and loomed aggressively over the stricken man because he'd got to take the easy way out. 'Ya know that sick fuck in Woodbury got Carol? Probably torturin' her right now...' His voice was rising in volume although he didn't mean it to.
'Daryl, calm down or get out, son.' Herschel ordered him quietly but firmly.
Daryl was about to storm out in rage but then stopped, turned back. Forcing himself to calm down. Remembered what he wanted to try and do, only the shock of seeing Rick in that state had made him momentarily forget. 'Wait, let me try somethin'.
'Not if you're gonna get all riled up and upset. He might be able to hear you, you know.'
'No - just give me a chance, I think I can get him back. But I need to be alone with 'im.'
The other two men looked at each other. 'Mind tellin' me how you're gonna do that?'
'I can't explain – it's...um... like hypnosis or somethin'. Herschel looked at Daryl in wonder – the boy was really full of surprises.
But then again, they'd all had to open their minds a little more once the dead started walking the earth and devouring the living.
Johnny shrugged. 'Can't hurt as long as he goes easy on 'im. As long as he doesn't break his bones or give 'im internal bleedin'. Trying to make light of the situation but not completely joking either. Daryl was intimidating and the frenetic energy and anger was coming off the man in waves.
Daryl rolled his eyes then tried his most trustworthy smile, teeth bared. Which usually made people run away.
'Can't hurt. We've stalled.' Herschel gave in. 'But we need to be here to supervise.' He added.
'Ya can't. Won't work. I have to be alone with 'im.'
Herschel looked at his assistant. 'OK, but we're going to be outside this door and at the first sign he shows of physical distress or if he wakes up – you call us in, ya hear?'
'OK. OK,' Daryl impatiently waved them away. Took a deep breath as they left.
Had pretended more confidence than he actually felt. Didn't know how shit like this worked.
'Cos it was only a theory, really. He'd never thought to try it before.
He was going to try and walk into Rick's mind and guide the man back.
He trembled, he was afraid. But Dixons didn't feel fear. What would he find in there? What if he couldn't get out again? If he became trapped in Rick's mind forever? The both of them in there?
But it was Rick. Wholesome, decent.
Never abused his wife or his son.
But everyone had secrets, dark fantasies they kept hidden.
Merle had always sneeringly called him Righteous Rick.
Rick would walk through fire, through a whole valley of Walkers to save him.
He knew.
Rick loved him. Would have done the same for Daryl if he could have done. So Daryl would return the favour.
He forced the fear back down into his chest. So that he couldn't feel it no more.
He weren't no pussy, he were a Dixon. He'd faced worse and won. He was a survivor. And he was going to save two people he loved.
His family.