Disclaimer: I own nothing.

––

It had rained through the night, the grass was wet with morning dew, and it was quiet. You could hear pen drop from miles away. It was tranquil here, and as Carol made her way through the headstones, she felt that tranquility seep through her boots and into her body. She found the two marble headstones, damaged slightly from weather and time, and she lowered herself down onto her knees.

Long ago Rick had requested to be buried by his family, and since his parents hadn't died yet, he was buried next to his son. The plot had been for Carol originally, but she gave it up for him. He needed it, and she didn't mind letting Rick be beside the only child he'd ever know for eternity.

She brushed her fingers over the cold, moist stone. She hadn't brought flowers, just a few toys from his room. She placed two on the headstone and his favorite two in the grass. They were worn and hot glued back together. He took care of them, but she'd stepped on one or two of them every few months. He made an effort to try and keep them in his room, but somebody had to clean it. That somebody was her, and she had broken quite a few before he learned to put them all up. He was such a thoughtful child.

"I miss you," she whispered, her voice deep and tears abundantly glided down her cheeks. "I miss you every day, Sam."

The wind blew nippy air her way, and she shook yet it wasn't from the breeze. It was from an inner chill. It was such a gray day, considering the previous one was bright and sunny, her longtime enemy finally defeated on her terms. The days mirrored her emotions, it appeared. She wasn't sure how she felt coming out here alone for the first time, but she needed this solitary time with them. She had neglected this for so long for fear of reliving it all. Every drop of blood, every tear stained reflection, every cry, every anguished scream and every breakdown. She was terrified of seeing the look in Sam's eyes all over again: wide and glossy and empty. Those eyes that held such joy, passion, laughter and scheme such schemes for her birthday or Christmas or Mother's Day. Those eyes that assured her time and again that she was on the correct path, that her blank and isolated childhood was worth it, because it lead her to him. Those beautiful blue eyes.

She could remember on days when she and Rick hadn't fought, she would wake up to pancakes and freshly fruit chopped up in a bowl that Sam would stumble in to her bedroom with. Rick had helped cook, but Sam was a big boy. He could the tray all by himself. His toothy smile, his unkempt light hair, and his little feet. She used to kiss them often when he was a baby, along with his tiny fingers and palms. She could remember his little kicks and his giggle. She could had never heard a sound more...heartwarming and precious as his little laugh. And his grin. On the darkest days of her job, she would take one look at his face, at that sloppy, mischievous grin, and she knew that she would find whatever killer she was chasing. She would make the world better, because that smile was worth protecting. His and many others, varying in age and race, but still as vital and invaluable as air.

"He's in prison now. Ed Peletier. He's behind bars, paying for what he did to you and your father." She knotted her hands together. "I thought I would feel the most...blissful relief, knowing he could never harm another family as he had harmed ours, but...I don't—I still don't feel anything. Maybe Michonne was right. Maybe I'm just overwhelmed. Who can really say?"

There a moment of silence before she spoke again.

"I'm l—lost, Sam. I don't know where to go now. I mean...for years my goal was tracking down the sniper, making him suffer as I have suffered, but that's been laid to rest. He's gone, and I'm so lost." She moved the little hairs that brushed her forehead away. "I don't know where I should go, what I should do next. I feel...disconnected. When you died...everything I dreamed, everything I wanted...vanished, and all that was left was a need to hunt down the bastard that took you from me."

She grew silent again, softly sobbing, not minding the dew seeping through her jeans. She sucked in a breath and brushed her finger over a few blades of grass. "I don't know what comes next—with Sophia and Daryl. I don't know how...to be a mother. I couldn't protect you, and just because one monster is locked away doesn't mean another one won't arise. I love your sister, but I sometimes wish Phillip had never told me she was mine. I feel aw—awful for even saying that, but God what else could happen to her? She's been in such pe—peril, and that was before she or I knew she was mine. I don't want to think what could happen to her further down the road.

"And Daryl. He'd never forgive me if I asked him to take Sophia and leave." She sniveled and exhaled, wiping her eyes. "I sometimes think it'd be best if he hated me. Then he would leave. Or he'd stick around and make sure Sophia and I spend time together. Probably the latter. Sophia wants me in her life, and Daryl wouldn't do anything to hurt her. That's...what I love about him. It doesn't matter what he feels, only her. I dislike that about him too, only because I know he's going to get himself hurt because of it one day."

Shifting on the grass, she crossed her legs. "It's ironic that I've never had a family—one related to me by blood—before you, and if I did, I don't remember them. Yet now I have so much family, I have no clue what to do with it. Heh. I love them all so much, but...I think I need time for myself now. I don't know how much time, but I can't just jump back into my old routine. So many things have changed, I've changed, and...I need time." She tilted her head back so that she could look at the sky. "I'll be back often. I promise."

The clouds blocked the sun, but there was no sign of rain yet. It was nice and calm, and it soothed the sorrow that had flooded Carol. Slowly her tears stopped falling, and she spoke more to Sam and even to Rick. She knew there was so much she needed to say, and it wasn't all to them. Perhaps when she returned, she would know what those words were.

"I love you, Sam. I will be back."

– – –

"All right, girly." Rosita handed a drink to Sophia. "Calm down. Daryl needs some rest. He overdid in PT it today."

"I'm fine." He adjusted his pillow. "I didn't overdo it."

"Uh-huh."

"How was your day?" He turned to his daughter.

"It was fine." She worked on the last bit of math homework. "It sucks that Carol has to leave for a while."

"What?" His eyes flickered to Rosita.

"Yeah, she spoke with Michonne and left this morning. I'm watching the girls for an unspecified time."

"You don't know when she's coming back?"

"She said she'd call."

"She didn't tell me she was leaving." He frowned.

"She knew I'd tell you," Sophia suggested. "I do see you every day, and she knows that."

"True, but I don't know. I thought by now she would tell me about her leaving in person."

"She didn't even tell me." Rosita tried to cheer him up. "Michonne did. I understand her needing time away. I get it. I love babysitting the girls. I have time on my hands since the investigation on me has been suspended due to the sniper case." She wondered when Michonne was going to call her about that. It'd been months now. Was she delaying out of spite?

"I hope she's okay."

"I doubt she is. She wouldn't feel the need to leave if she was."

"Then I hope she'll be okay."

"Me too."

"Me three." Sophia set her pencil down. "I'm hungry."

"Let's go hit up the snack machine then." Rosita grabbed her purse. "I hope Carol's paying me. I'm two seconds away from being a broke as hell."

He smirked. "Get me somethin' too."

"I'll pick up some lime Jell-O from the cafeteria." She smirked. "C'mon, kid."

He watched them scurry off and his frown returned. He wondered what was going on with Carol. He had seen it the day in court when the sniper was charged and at the dinner. He suspected even more after their talk. This was bound to happen. She had achieved a goal and now had nothing to chase. He'd be lost once or twice himself. He hoped she found what she was looking for.

– – –

Carol found herself at the prison where Ed Peletier would live out the rest of his days. She had left home this morning, explaining herself only to Michonne, and she would speak with Rosita and Daryl after. For now she went where her gut led her, and it led her here. It wasn't surprising. He had answers to questions she might not even have thought to ask, and he may not share them, but there was chance he might.

She sat down across from him, hands in her lap, eyes guarded, her heart racing. She did everything she could do to compose herself, to not show the anxiety boiling inside her. She inhaled calmly and met his eyes. "So it's Ed Peletier."

"So they tell me." He studied her face.

"I have—"

"—questions?" he finished. "I know."

"It's not unbelievable. You killed my child instead of me. Anyone would want to ask why."

"There was no point in killing you." He shifted back in his chair. "The goal was to get you off my back."

"No, it wasn't."

A smirk crossed his lips. "Can you read minds now?"

"If the goal to get me off your back, you went about it the wrong way. You killed my child right in front of me." She leaned forward. "You wanted me to hate you. You wanted me to chase."

"And chase me you did." He chuckled, and the sound made her skin want to crawl off her body and across the country.

"Why?" she demanded. "Why did you kill my son? Why not just kill me? It would have been easier."

"Easier? I don't do anything that makes my life easier. That's boring. There's no fun to be had when you do things because they're easy. I like challenges. The more difficult the better." He brushed this thumb over the handcuffs. "As for your son...well, it's a long story that began long before he was a twinkle in Officer Grimes' eye."

"Would you care to share it?"

"No."

"Why not? You have no power anymore. You're locked in a cell all by yourself everyday for the rest of your pathetic life." She searched his eyes. "You lost."

"And you won?" He smiled, his eyes locked with hers. "You still have questions, and that means I still have power. I won't answer any of the whys or hows. You don't deserve to know."

"Deserve to know?" Tears burned in her eyes. "You son of a bitch, you murdered my son! You took away his and his brother's father! You're the reason I lost ten years with my daughter!" She slammed her hands on the table when she shot up, the chair falling back onto the floor with a clatter. "And I don't deserve to know?!"

"When you put it like that...no, you don't deserve anything."

She snarled at him and stood back before she hurt him. "Or maybe you don't even know why you did any of it. Maybe you were just bored and wanted to play God. Maybe you're too scared to kill me. You had years of opportunities, but you never took the shot." Her body shook with anger, her teeth were bared at him, and she had to take another step back. "You're a coward."

She walked toward the door when he called to her, and she halted. "What?"

"Curiosity," he repeated.

"You... you did all of this our of curiosity?!" She whirled around, and he nodded. "Why? What did I do that made you so curiosity you had to play with me like a lab rat?"

"When you were a child, do you remember being homeless?"

"You—you knew me when I was a child?" She approached the table. "You mentioned something similar to me before on the roof. What do you know about me as a child? Huh?"

"You won't believe me, but you're right: I was bored." He lifted his head. "You were probably nine or ten years old when I first met you. I remember you were wearing a brown dress with two pigtails and white shoes. I remember because you were outside of church with your parents, jumping in puddles."

"My parents?" she whispered.

"I never knew their names. I didn't care. I just thought it was odd that they would let their little girl wander around by herself so often."

"Is that all?"

"No, no that isn't all. Have a seat, Williams." He waited, and she picked up her chair and sat. "Good girl."

She clenched her jaw. "What else?"

"Well, I think a week or two passed. I was in an alley, bored as I am today, killing a few rats, and you and your mom walked by. I assume it was your birthday. You had cupcakes. You saw me, tugged on your mom's sleeve and came into the alley. You brought me a yellow and white frosted cupcake with two balloons sticking out of it. You told me to have a great day and then left with your mom." He chuckled. "Your mother was a dumb cunt."

Carol glowered. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, but you don't remember her, so you can't really argue with me."

"You're wasting my time."

"I followed you home," he quickly revealed, and she narrowed her eyes. "I don't remember the house at all. I do know that your parents cared a lot about you, asking how your day was, how school was, and you were happy there. You smiled all throughout dinner, giggling and helping out with the dishes. It was disgusting—the entire scene. I could barely keep down my own dinner.

"But I digress." He laced his fingers together. "Your parents went to bed, you too, and I broke in. I went to your room first, and you were out cold. You were a deep sleeper as a child." A creepy smile crossed his lips, and she felt her stomach twist at what he might have done to her. "I found your dad's office, the Glock he kept in his bottom drawer and then I found their room. I shot your mom first, made it quick, but with your dad... Well, I shot his knees and I gagged him with a tie. It was hilarious how he kept trying to get to you. He was crawling around, bleeding everywhere, trying so desperately to get to his little girl. I let him try, but I blew his brains out when he made it to your bedroom door."

"You're lying." Tears brimmed in her eyes nonetheless, as she tried to convince herself of this. "I would have heard the gunshots. Deep sleeper or not."

"Not if I used a pillow to silence the gunshots—which I did."

"So, I'm supposed to believe you killed my parents, and nobody tried to find me? Bullshit."

"It's true. I took the car keys, you and I drove out of the city. I don't remember what city, but I do know I brought you to New York."

"Where were your parents?"

"Out of town. They were poor parents, unlike yours. They didn't care what I did, just as long as it didn't interfere with their lives."

"You took me to New York? Why?"

"Curiosity." He leaned toward her now. "I wanted to see if you would survive being tossed in to an unknown city, and what better city than New York? I tossed you in to an alley, and I watched you. You were so scared—bawling your eyes out, calling for your parents. You couldn't get anybody's attention in the part of town I ditched you in. You—you cried into a moldy box for a week." He laughed so hard, remembering her matted curls and dirty nightgown. "I tossed you some bread so you wouldn't die, a bottle of water, and you thanked me. The one who destroyed your precious life."

"Why help me?"

"You were a small, sobbing child. A goddamn moron who didn't think to steal from stores yet. I had to do something. You were barely moving on the fifth day."

"This is the most ludicrous story I have ever heard. You're making things up to what? What's your goal here? To make me upset? Miss parents I never had?"

"Then how did you end up on the street?" he inquired. "Do you think a foster parent got rough with you so you ran away?"

"It would be more believable than your story."

"I have no reason to lie to you. I practically created you, Williams—"

"You did not. My parents brought me into this world, but I built myself up from nothing. I am who I am today, because of the hardships I endured as a child, because of the kindness strangers showed me, because of my children and family. You played no part in that."

"Fine, ignore the origin story. It doesn't really matter now. Whoever your parents were doesn't matter; they're bones and scrapes of papers in a cold case box in some warehouse now. You can't move on from this point in your life without knowing what you left behind. You're a lost little lamb, Williams. Even I can see that."

"I'm leaving."

"Where are you going to go? To Gloria? See if what I told you is fact or fiction?"

"Yes. I've never asked her about my past, never used my contacts to find out more, but it's time. I have you behind bars, and now it's time to focus on myself. I can do that now. I have the freedom to do that. All you can do is stare at walls and think you have control over my life." She stood up. "You stopped being a threat to me the second you shot me. You were backed into a corner, and you turned into a wild animals like the rest of the criminals in here. You're no different than the Governor, and all of my fears that you were somehow my greatest challenge—my biggest adversary—were gratuitous. You're nothing. With your guns gone, all you are is a man who spins tales to try and frighten children. Well, I'm not a child anymore, and I don't have any questions for you."

His smirk faltered. "You do."

"No, because, Ed, I know the answer. I've lived on the same frequency as you for twelve years, and I know. You murdered my son as a warning. Rick was just...a coincidence. Maybe Phillip sent you after him. Rick was a relentless detective, so that's likely it. When you saw how that drove me to find you, it did make you curious. You wanted to see how much further I would go to locate you, and you wanted to break me to see how and if I repaired myself. You were playing with me like a cat does a mouse, but like the tortoise and the hare, slow and steady wins the race. You have given me unimaginable agony and filled me with such rage, but...I forgive you." She blinked back tears. "I forgive you, because without all of that...I wouldn't have met Daryl and had a beautiful daughter. Lori and Shane wouldn't have gotten married and had a precious baby girl and raised a fine, strong boy together. Who knows what our lives would have been like had Rick and Sam survived."

His lips twitched, his eyes darkening as she spoken, and he sneered at her.

"I miss them every day, but everything happens for a reason. They're with God now, and I have to keep living for them and for myself." She smiled to herself, inhaling deeply to try and sooth the storm inside. "I have a lot to look forward too. It terrified me, at first—all this freedom. It doesn't anymore, because I know what I'm going to do."

"Now who's lying."

"Hmm." She strolled over to the door then turned to peer over her shoulder. "You asked me if it felt good? I never answered, but you're right—it does feel good."

– – –

Carol knocked on the door and waited. She didn't have to wait long before Gloria opened the door and let her inside. She was in the middle of making tea, and Carol saw she had company. Andrea and Caesar were sitting at the table, and she noted that Caesar was drinking coffee. Andrea didn't have a cup in front of here, and she knew instantly why there visiting.

"Hey." Andrea smiled as a greeting and hugged Carol. "I heard from Rosita that you were taking some time off."

"Yeah, I have a plane to catch this evening." She whispered in her ear, "Congratulations."

"Thank you." She released her. "Why come here?"

"I didn't expect you two to be here. I wanted to have a word with Gloria. After you two, of course."

"Enough whispering." Gloria waved them over. "Have a seat. It's good to have you all here."

"We should visit more often." Caesar drank from his cup.

"Thanks." Carol accepted the cup of tea. "You remembered."

"Of course." Gloria smiled at her.

"Wait, you've been by?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, I was here shortly after I was let out of the hospital." She dunked the teabag. "I needed to talk to someone, and she was here." She set her hand over Gloria's and smiled then took a drink of her tea.

"Well, we can't stay too long. Keira's babysitter has a doctor's appointment in an hour, and we need to talk to Keira too." Caesar set his hand on Andrea's knee. "We thought you should know first."

Gloria exchanged a look with Carol, and Carol chuckled softly, knowing Gloria had known the second she opened the door what their news was about. "Oh? And what do you think to tell me first?"

"We're having another child," Andrea announced. "We waited to wait until we were sure before we told anybody, but I am pregnant. I'll be seven weeks on the first."

There was a round of hugging then, Carol played along with being surprised and congratulated both of them again, and they spent some time talking. It was so bizarre. They typically only spent time with Gloria on holidays and her birthday. They were all so busy with their lives, and to be together simply because was strange. It made Carol feel good. She knew that no matter what her past was, it didn't matter. She had a mother, a brother, a sister-in-law, two children of her own, an adopted daughter, and maybe one day a romantic partner. Maybe. It had been years since she dated, and she wasn't sure if she could even date. God, it had been so long. The longest relationship she'd ever had was probably with... Not even a human. A coffee brand. She's been using the same brand for over twenty years. Christ, that was sad.

Caesar and Andrea made plans with Gloria, and they would be bringing Keira along next time. Carol and Gloria saw them out, and Carol helped her clean up then they sat down to speak.

"I wondered when you'd come and ask me about this."

"I'm sorry I took so long."

"Don't be." The older woman smiled kindly. "I'm glad it took you this long. I like to think you're my third child."

"I'm only looking for...closure, I suppose. You are my mother." She took her hand. "You saved me and raised me. I am beyond grateful for you. I just...need to close that part of my life before I can begin my future."

She patted her hand. "I understand."

"When you...adopted me, what did you find out about my parents?"

"I wanted to talk to them. I wanted to know how on earth could they abandon their child. I had an entire argument prepared for them." She shook her head. "I never got say a word."

"Why not?"

"You were left at a church, given to the state, and eventually put into foster care. I tracked down the couple that had you, and they said you disappeared one night. They looked for you, but...they never found you. They assumed you ran away, and after a while they stopped looking. They lost hope of you ever being found or returning home."

"How old was I?"

"You were almost ten." She searched Carol's eyes and reached over to an embroidered box on the coffee table, pulling out a newspaper clipping. "These were your foster parents."

Carol looked over the article about her disappearance, seeing a picture of her with her foster parents. She looked happy, very like Sophia at that age, and she could tell they were good parents. "Mmm." She brushed her fingertips over their faces.

"You don't remember them?"

"No." She frowned. "I don't."

She patted her knee as a way of consoling her. "Maybe it's better that way."

Carol lowered the clipping. "You kept this all these years?"

"I knew you would coming asking, and I wanted to answer you as best I could."

Carol smiled and hugged her. "Thank you."

"Go find the answers you're looking for," she whispered into Carol's ears. "And bring my granddaughter around sometime."

She laughed. "I will. I promise." She held her tighter, closing her eyes. She had two more stops to make before she had to catch her flight. She knew she was being a terrible mother. Two months both in and out of hospital recovering from being shot twice, and now she was taking off to try and fill the gaping wholes in her past. She would apology to Mika and Sophia, mostly Mika. Sophia had her father and family, but Mika didn't. Ryan couldn't come and spend time with her right now. Carol would have to make it up to them. Maybe gifts. She'd start with an apology then gifts. Lots of gifts if she was going to be gone as long as she thought she would be. She just needed answers.

––

Daryl was trying to get some sleep, but he honestly couldn't. It wasn't that late, however when he slept earlier, he woke up earlier. He wanted to be up went Axel and Abe came by. They were bringing him some decent food. They had to smuggle it by the nurses, so he definitely wanted to be awake. Last time the fuckholes ate it themselves, and he woke up with the smell of it lingering all day. It was cruel, and if he could, he'd smack the shit out of them.

He rested his good hand behind his head and adjusted himself as best he could then he saw a figure drifting closer to his room. He discovered it was Carol coming toward him. He straightened instantly, running a hand through his messy hair and clearing his throat. He greeted her with a small smile.

"I thought you were gone already."

"Not yet. My flight leaves in an hour though." She looked for a chair and scooted it to his bed, setting her bag beside her.

Daryl realized this was first time he'd seen her in jeans, although she still wore a blouse. She looked good. Healthy. He felt his cheeks burn, and he felt ridiculous. He blamed Rosita. Her and her damn prodding. Yeah, he did have feeling for her in the past, but that was just because he knew he wouldn't meet anyone like her again. Wait. He didn't—ugh. Screw it. He'd rather not think about it.

"I wanted to talk to you." She met his eyes. "I'll be gone for a few weeks, and I've gotten the all clear from my doctors and Michonne, but not you. I know Rosita told you I'm leaving for a bit, as you already brought it up, and I wanted to know if you'd look after Sophia for me. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah. She's been my daughter for ten years, Carol."

She nodded. "I just wanted to make sure. I don't want you to give her the details, but let her know I'll be back as soon as possible."

"What are the details?"

"I...don't remember my childhood. At all. I never have been able to recall being younger than ten years old."

"That's weird."

"Yes, it is. I'm going to try and find...what I'm missing."

"Well, I wish you luck."

"Thanks." She reached out and grasped his hand. "I have another favor to ask."

"What's that?"

"Don't take the meals Axel and Noah bring you. They're not healthy, and you need to be healthy. Ask Rosita to bring you meals that are good for you. They'll give you strength, assist you so you can heal faster." She met his eyes. "I don't want anything to happen to you, and the sooner you're out of here, the sooner you can put all of this behind you."

He made a face. "Have you had the food here?"

She smirked. "Why I mentioned Rosita."

He groaned. "I'll think about it."

She removed her hand. "I know you must be going stir crazy in here, so please do."

"Do you have to leave now?" he murmured, not looking at her.

"I'm already packed, and I talked to the girls, so...not just yet."

"What did the girls say?"

"I am to bring back lots and lots of gifts. And candy."

"That sounds about right."

"It's your doing. You spoiled Sophia."

"I already told you why."

"I'm just happy she isn't a spoiled brat about it. She values things. She learned that from you, you know." She peered at him. "You had money and power yet you showed her, perhaps inadvertently, that the only thing that matters is family. Loyalty and love are far more important to her than riches and power. Thank you for that."

"Just doin' my job."

She nodded again. "I brought you something."

"You did?"

She reached into the bag and pulled out a toy crossbow with suction cup bolts. "Here, to keep yourself entertained."

He chuckled. "Best thing I've been given since I was admitted."

"Believe me when I say I know how boring it can be sitting around, waiting to heal." She rested her chin in her palm. "Don't abuse it though."

"Me? Never."

She watched him hold it. "Can you...load it? I didn't— I mean... God, I'm sorry. I didn't think about your—"

"No, no, it's good. I can." He showed her. "It ain't as easy as it was before, but I'll manage. Thanks." He set it on the table beside him. "I noticed you stop touching it."

"What?"

"Your necklace. You used to touch it all the time. You don't anymore."

She grasped her locket. "It was a habit. I guess I thought it gave it me strength, relieved me of my loneliness and...gave me hope."

"Some locket."

She leaned toward him and opened it. "Rosita gave this to me a week or so after Sophia was born. This is Sam, and this is Sophia."

He leaned forward and looked over the two baby pictures. "They look a lot alike."

"Yeah."

"I think I took this picture."

"Did you?"

"Yeah, I did. It was the day Rosita brought her home."

"You have a good eye."

He swallowed. "I'm sorry you lost Sam. He would've been a fine man. I'm sure of it."

She closed the locket and held onto it. "Thank you, but I know he's in a better place now. I'll see him again, I hope."

"Carol?"

"Yes?"

"I know it's been ten years since, but I want to talk about what happened between us. I need to before we can move on. We'll be in each others life through Sophia, and I just want...to talk about it now that we have a chance to."

"When I return, we can talk about it." She checked her watch. "I should go."

"Now?"

"I'll be back before you know it." She gave him a gentle smile, collected her bag and exited the room without looking back.

He leaned back on the pillows behind him and picked up the crossbow toy, smiling to himself. He was going to hit Axel in the face with it, and that wasn't abuse. That was payback. He'd have to make her see it since way when she got back. After they talked. Hmm. That was one conversation he was actually looking forward to.