Choosing to live in a prison never stopped feeling strange. Carol had wondered in her previous life what it must be like to be incarcerated, to know that you can never be truly free. She had a cousin who was in jail for a while, for various robberies and drug offenses, but she didn't know him well enough to visit him. She'd played with him some as a kid, and he'd been obnoxious, out of control. She could've guessed he would have ended up in jail or dead by the time he was twenty-five. She had no idea what happened to him when the dead started walking. Maybe he was safe, trapped in a prison like Axel and Oscar had been.
She had always been slightly claustrophobic, but sleeping in a jail cell didn't bother Carol as much as she used to imagine it would. What bothered her most was the way the walkers constantly wandered the perimeter, groaning hungrily and gazing at them with their empty eyes. Everywhere else they'd gone, they'd killed every walker on sight. Here there was a constant reminder of what they were running from, of what kept them from being free.
Carol hadn't been on a run from the prison yet, but the others had started going out pretty frequently. Judith always needed more formula and diapers, and they were forced to go further out to look for more. Maggie thought she remembered seeing some baby stuff in one of the houses in the first neighborhood they settled in, so she planned a run with Glenn and T-Dog to see what they could find. Daryl insisted on going as well, saying he wanted to pick up some of the tools they'd planned on using to build the wall, which would mean going to the neighborhood with running water as well. Carol longed to go with them, but she feared that she wasn't ready to go on such a dangerous mission, that she might just get in the way. She also thought it might break her heart a little to see the house where she'd known such happiness with Daryl.
She kept herself busy with Judith all day, trying to keep her mind off the danger the others might be in. Beth tried to reassure her by saying just because there was a herd at one point in that neighborhood didn't mean there would be one again, but it didn't help. She knew they had never totally cleared the area and walkers could be all over the place by now. She didn't think the group could bear any losses so soon after Lori and Andrea. Rick was still staying silent most of the time, keeping to himself. He'd barely even looked at Judith so far, and he only interacted with Carl when he absolutely had to. Michonne was still mourning Andrea, but she'd started opening up a little more, and she and Carol were starting to develop something of a friendship. Michonne had started training Carol again, and each woman was grateful for the time to keep their minds and bodies busy.
The run was only supposed to take a few hours at the most, but night fell and there was still no sign of them. Carol stood close to the gate, watching the treeline and waiting to hear the roar of Daryl's motorcycle. When she finally heard it, her heart leapt and Michonne placed a hand on her shoulder with a little smile and nod. They banged on the fence to draw the attention of the walkers so Oscar could open the gate for the car and motorcycle, and it was then that Carol saw Glenn was driving the motorcycle instead of Daryl. She could see T-Dog and Maggie in the front seat of the car, but there was no sign of Daryl. "Noooo!" she screamed, running to the motorcycle and pulling at Glenn's shirt until he nearly fell off. "What happened? Where is he?"
Glenn grabbed her by the shoulders to still her, looking her in the eyes. "He's alive. He's in the back seat of the car, and he's—"
She rushed to the car and pulled the back door open while Maggie and T-Dog got out. All the others had gathered around as well, even Rick. Carol peered into the car and saw Daryl lying unconscious on the seat, with blood pouring from his head, soaking the cloth someone had wrapped around his wound.
"He wasn't bitten," Glenn said hastily. "He fell and hit his head against a stone pillar at the end of a driveway. It was just like. . .a freak accident. He was fighting off a bunch of walkers all on his own, and one of them knocked him down. We'd just gotten there."
"We were right on time, thank God," T-Dog said.
"Let's get him inside," Hershel said. "We need to stop the bleeding."
Oscar and T-Dog pulled Daryl as gently as possible out of the car and carried him into the prison, laying him on a bunk so Hershel could take a look. Fortunately they had plenty of bandages and other first aid supplies from the prison infirmary, so Carl rushed to fetch those while Hershel unwrapped the wound. Carol tried to remain calm, but seeing Daryl being carried, unconscious, bleeding. . .it was just too much. She placed a hand over her mouth and sobbed, while Maggie and Michonne held her on each side.
"He'll be ok," Hershel finally said, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. "I expect he'll wake up soon, but he's lost a lot of blood and needs to rest for a while. Don't let him get up, no matter what he says." He turned to Carol. "I expect you'll want to sit with him, so you can let me know when he wakes up. Change his bandage frequently, and keep his wound clean. He's still bleeding a little, but I think he's in the clear."
Carol knelt beside him and placed a hand on his chest, gazing at him. She felt as though she'd loved him forever, that her life had truly begun when she met him. Maybe he would never love her again the way he had for a little while, but right now she didn't even care. She just wanted him to be ok, alive and safe. She turned to Maggie. "What happened? Why was he on his own? Didn't you all go together?"
Maggie exchanged a glance with Glenn. "Well, yeah, but Daryl decided he wanted to go to our house and pick up some stuff. He wanted to get those tools, you know, but he said he needed some other stuff too. Wouldn't say what."
"And he insisted on going by himself," T-Dog added.
"You shouldn't have let him," Carol said angrily.
"Carol," Glenn said gently. "This is Daryl we're talking about. He goes out hunting by himself all the time. Besides, you think anybody could stop him from doing what he wants?"
Carol smiled at him. "You're right, I know. I just—"
"You're worried about him," Maggie said. "Of course you are. But you heard Daddy, he's gonna be fine."
"He'll probably be up trying to go hunting in no time," T-Dog said with a smile for Carol. "Like Glenn said, this is Daryl we're talking about. He won't be down for long."
Carol nodded and turned back to Daryl, wiping away tears. Everyone filed out then, leaving her alone with him. She watched him closely, waiting for his eyes to open. After a while, she peeled the bandage off and took a look at his wound, a deep gash just under his hairline on the right side of his face. He must have hit the stone quite hard. She was so thankful the others showed up when they did. It was unfathomable to imagine that Daryl could've been taken out because of a fall, after he'd survived so many dangers.
When he finally woke a few hours later, Carol was changing his bandage again. She saw his eyes flutter open and she tried to stay calm so he wouldn't be alarmed. He watched her for a while, then finally spoke. "Why ain't Hershel doin' this?"
"He told me to do it," she replied. "Why? You want me to get him?"
"Nah, you're better lookin.'" He smiled a little when she giggled. "I didn't get bit, did I?"
"No, you fell. Do you remember?"
"Yeah, kinda."
"Maggie, Glenn, and T-Dog showed up just in time to fight the walkers off you," she said, "or you'd be a goner." She sighed, sitting back to give him a stern look. "What the hell were you thinking going out there alone?"
"I've done it a million times."
"I know, but. . ."
"I get it," he said. "I'm sorry."
She nodded once, then went back to changing his bandage. "You're supposed to rest a few days, you know. So much for us being fuck buddies."
She expected him to laugh, but instead he reached up and grabbed her hand. "We ain't never been that."
"I know," she said quietly. "I – I have to go tell Hershel you're awake. He'll want to take a look at you."
After she'd found Hershel and sent him to Daryl and given the news to everyone that Daryl was awake and seemed to be ok, T-Dog pulled her aside. "Carol, I need to show you something." She followed him back to his cell and watched him open a bag that she recognized as Daryl's. "Is this for you, you think?"
He pulled a book out of the bag and held it out to Carol. She glanced down at the book. It was the same anthology she'd read from on one of their first nights together after the attack at the mall. She took it and closed her eyes, exhaling. "Surely he didn't put his life in danger to bring me a book of poetry."
"I don't know," T-Dog said, shrugging. "He had some tools in here too, but I'm guessing that was what he was really after."
She waited for Hershel to leave his cell before she carried the book in to him. His eyes were closed, but she asked anyway, holding the book up. "Is this what you were after today?"
He opened his eyes and then flicked them away from her quickly. "Yeah, partly," he muttered.
There were a thousand things she could've said. Does this mean you still love me? Do you just feel guilty? Is this some kind of peace offering? Instead, she simply said, "Thank you. Do you want me to read something?"
"Yeah," he answered. "That pilgrim soul one."
She flipped the pages until she found it, then she read the Yeats poem she'd read to him before, in easier, happier times.
"I think I get that part now," he said when she finished. "About the sorrows of your changing face."
"Yeah?" she asked, afraid to guess what he might say next. Her heart was beating faster than she thought possible.
"I don't want to make you sad anymore," he said in a hoarse whisper. "And I don't want to be sad either."
She knelt next to him, smiling. "Then let's not be sad," she said with a little shrug, as if it really were that simple.
"Ok," he answered, as if he believed it too. "Come here."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"Fuck it," he said, reaching for her. "C'mere."