Chapter Twenty-Eight
Twilight was heavily upon them as they made their way back onto the road. It had gotten impossible to see the trail Sophia had left for him to follow, and his flashlight was in the pack still strapped to the bike. He watched Carol break down as Lori approached her, the brunette's arms taking her friend into a tight embrace as his woman cried. It would have been less painful to be ripped apart by a walker than to see her cry like that. He felt defeated and lost as he watched Rick's wife lead Carol into the RV, to accept comfort from her where she'd take none from him. To hell with that!
Rick's hand on his shoulder kept him from following, however. "Maybe you should give her a minute."
The redneck's shoulders slumped minutely. Carol was furious they'd had to give up the search when they'd lost the light. He'd practically had to drag her kicking and screaming from the woods. "She needs me," he said simply.
"And I'm thinking she needs a minute to cool off."
Daryl pulled out of his grip. "I'm thinkin' y' need t' fuckin' back off," he snarled. The stress and strain of losing Sophia, of failing Carol; it was all taking its toll on him, and Rick was a convenient outlet. "Y' got a whole group o' people just sittin' on their hands waitin' for y' t' tell 'em what t' do. I didn't ask for your advice, and I sure th' fuck don't want or need it."
"Is that right?" Rick asked calmly, a small smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. "Well, you got it anyway. You go in there right now; she's going to do her best to shut you out. She's blaming herself for not being able to protect her daughter, and she isn't going to want to listen to a thing you've got to say."
"It ain't her fault! She couldn't've done anythin' more without puttin' her own life in jeopardy," Daryl hissed, not wanting to draw any more attention from the others than they already had. "S'my fault! I shouldn't've left them alone. If she should be blamin' anyone, damnit, it's me!"
Rick shook his head. "Naw, man, you can't think like that. It's no one's fault. Dale warned us the second he saw the first walker. He gave us the time we needed to hide. We thought they'd gone, and Sophia thought it would be safe to come out. It wasn't anybody's fault, Daryl."
Daryl swallowed hard around the lump of suppressed emotion in his throat. Rick could say what he wanted, but the hunter would continue to blame himself for losing one of his girls. Not even Carol or Sophia herself could absolve him from that guilt.
"We're going to find her, Daryl." Rick could see Daryl wasn't going to try to talk to him, and went to Lori as she stepped out of the Winnebago.
Daryl watched them go and sit with Shane and Glenn where they had a small fire lit in the grass on the side of the road, heating tinned stew for their supper. His stomach rebelled at the thought of food. It didn't matter that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, the thought of Sophia out there in the forest all alone left him tied up in knots. He looked over at Lori where she sat with an arm around her son, and took her small nod as a beacon of hope. Would Carol even want to talk to him now?
How could he have failed her like this? He'd had no doubt he'd fuck up, but never had he thought it would be because he couldn't protect them. It was the one thing he knew he was good at. He'd thought if he screwed up, it would be because he had no clue how to have a decent relationship with anyone. He never had before. Frankly, he just didn't like people. They never failed to disappoint. He'd been used enough in the past to know it firsthand. Carol was the first person to ever draw him in, to make him see she just wanted to be his friend. She'd never asked him for a thing, but cared for him because of who he was, not because of what he could give her or do for her. And at the first possible opportunity, he'd failed her.
Well, he wasn't going to hide from her. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to run from his mistake, to hide from the accusing light he knew he'd find in her lovely azure gaze, but he couldn't do it. Despite his shortcomings, he knew no one would be able to protect her like he would. No one would be able to find Sophia but him. She needed him, and he couldn't abandon her. He'd just have to suck it up – as Merle was so fond of telling him – and do what needed to be done.
Daryl could hear her quiet sobs the second he opened the door and stepped inside. He paused there, closing the door behind him. He bit the inside of his lip, listening as she wept, feeling her pain as if it were his own. The itch returned to ravage his skin, his anxiety building, but he forced one foot in front of the other, making his way down the short hall to the bedroom at the rear of the RV. He watched her the entire time, wondering when he'd become so adept at reading her body language. Setting the crossbow against the wall, he eased himself down onto the mattress next to her feet, and waited, not wanting to intrude upon her grief.
He was afraid to touch her, scared to open his mouth and release the dam of useless words stuck to the roof of his mouth. He felt useless, not knowing how to bring her the comfort she so desperately needed. There would be no way to fix this until he could bring Sophia back to her. And then she held out her hand behind her, held it out palm up in an invitation. She turned her head, and it staggered him to see such need in her eyes.
Daryl's fingers slid over her palm, an undercurrent of electricity coursing up his arm as he let her pull him towards her. Their connection, borne on pure emotion, seemed to be as strong as ever, even amidst such tragedy as she curled up against his chest and buried her face into the crook of his neck. She gave out a little squeak as his arms went about her in a nearly bone-crushing embrace. "I'm sorry," he whispered, pressing his lips to her brow. "I should never have left you alone. I'm so sorry, Carol."
"Don't you even think about blaming yourself," she whispered furiously. They might be alone in the RV at the moment, but it was still no reason to raise her voice to him despite her rising anger. "This was not your fault."
"If I'd have been there –"
"You would have been under the cars just like the rest of us, and then you wouldn't have had the opportunity to save T," she insisted. "There were just so many of them, there would have been no way to fight our way through that, Daryl. Not even you – with all of your skills – could have made a dent."
"But I could have made sure Sophia didn't get far," he grumbled. He pulled back just a bit, so he could look down into her tear-stained face. "You really don't blame me?"
"No," she shook her head. "And Sophia wouldn't blame you either, Daryl. She thought it would be safe to come out, and when she saw she wouldn't have the chance to draw on them, she ran. It's what you and Merle always told her to do if she couldn't safely use her weapons."
His thumb brushed across the delicate skin just beneath her eye, chasing away a lingering tear. "I hate t' think o' her out there alone. She's smart an' brave, but that ain't always enough." He wasn't going to lie to her and tell her everything was ok until he could prove it would be. Carol was strong; she could take it, a lot better than any false platitudes he could tell her.
"We'll find her," Carol whispered, burrowing deeper into his embrace. She closed her eyes and was still for a while before she found her voice again. "Daryl?" she asked, wondering if perhaps he'd fallen asleep.
"Hmm?" The fingers of his left hand twitched where it rested against her nape, his thumb brushing against her ear.
Her eyes sought his in the semi-darkness. "I'm sorry for what I said out there. I didn't mean to make it sound like you didn't care about Sophia. I know you do."
Aww, shit …now she wants t' talk about feelings, he groaned inwardly. He felt raw and battered from the events of the day, and now she wanted to pour salt in his wounds. "Y' should try t' sleep. Y' want me t' go get your quilt outta th' truck?"
Carol actually smiled at him, seeing what he was trying to do. "No, I don't want my quilt … just you." She leaned up on her elbow and laid a gentle hand against the side of his face, her thumb caressing his bottom lip as he gnawed the tender inside. "I know you care, Daryl. For both of us. You wouldn't have done all this if you didn't." She didn't need to elaborate on how he'd saved them, because he knew. He didn't see it as any great feat, just what needed to be done, and it made her heart quicken.
He tried to look away, the intense look in her eyes making his chest tighten, but she wouldn't allow it, holding firm with her touch. "Y'all are my girls, Carol, m' fam'ly. Of course, I care." He blew out an exasperated breath. "S'why it kills me t' think I failed y'."
"You didn't, and I don't want you thinking like that anymore." She pressed her brow to his as his hands skimmed down her sides to wrap about her waist and pull her closer. "You could never fail me, Daryl." Before he could argue, she brought her lips to his, a soft caress of comfort which brought just a little touch of light to chase away the shadows which seemed to surround them.
When she pulled away, he rolled her back to her side and tucked her head beneath his chin, not wanting her to see the naked emotion swimming in his eyes. "Try t' sleep, woman," he rasped, his voice heavy with feelings he didn't want to examine too closely. "I'll watch over y'. And we'll head out at first light t' bring our girl home."
Daryl knew neither of them would likely sleep, but at least their bodies could rest enough to see them through what the next day would bring.
*.*.*
"Where th' hell'd that come from?" Martine asked, squinting at the church van sitting at the back of the lot as she hopped on one foot trying to dislodge the rope ladder from behind the drain pipe. "Friends o' yers?"
"No, sugar," he sneered, "but Daryl seems t' think so. C'mon an' get yer ass up that ladder before we end up with company we ain't got th' energy t' fight off."
She didn't argue with him, knowing it was pointless. It was bad enough they'd had to leave the jeep and trek all the way back to the store on foot, constantly evading the two guys hounding their every step. She wondered – not for the first time – why they were so hell bent on following them. Merle shook off her hand as she tried to help him onto the roof. "Don't be an ass, Merle. Yer jus' as tired as I am."
"Yeah, an' I can still run circles around y'," he growled.
"Y' think yer people're still here?"
The elder Dixon shook his head as he made his way to the hatch. "Naw … Daryl woulda had a watch posted up here if'n that was th' case." He switched on a small pocket-sized flashlight and climbed down the ladder, cursing the injured tendons in his wrist where he'd sliced into them with that screwdriver as he was freeing himself. His hand was still functional, but damn if it didn't hurt like a bitch every time he flexed his fingers. He'd probably be rotting away with infection if not for some of Marty's TLC. Maybe he should try to be a bit nicer to the girl.
They'd had a thing years ago, and she was always willing to fall into bed with him when she was in between boyfriends, but they still fought like cats and dogs when they spent too much time together. His eyes raked over the storeroom as he exited the shaft, taking note of the missing artillery which had been hanging on the wall when they'd left out to search for Digger and Randy. Oh, yeah, his brother had definitely been there. What surprised him was that only half the merchandise was missing. He'd have taken it all if it were him.
Marty noticed the grimace marring his features as he leaned his bad arm against the display case. "C'mon, Dixon, move yer ass. We need to get cleaned up, so I can re-bandage that arm." She didn't wait for him. God forbid he should think she was hovering. Florence Nightingale she definitely was not. Didn't mean she liked seeing him in pain, especially after he'd been fighting so hard to keep her alive.
He followed her downstairs and started the generator. It was then the smell of pine sol assailed his nose. "Yep, y' can tell Carol was here."
"She cleaned?" Marty asked in horror.
"Oh, yeah," he murmured, breathing deeply. "She does that, 'specially when she's nervous. Then again, it could jus' be all those fancy manners o' hers."
She moved on ahead of him to her bedroom and stripped off her ruined jeans. "How'd Daryl manage t' land himself such a fine piece? And don't y' look at me that way, Merle Dixon. Y' know she way outclasses th' lot of us."
But he wasn't paying any attention to her. He was focused on the pristine white envelope on the nightstand with his name scrawled across the front. He picked it up and dropped down onto the side of the bed with its pink camouflaged duvet neatly made up. He didn't hesitate to open it, dying to hear any news about his family.
Merle glanced up when he caught Marty staring at him curiously. He cleared his throat and cast her a little smirk. "Why don'tcha go on an' get th' shower started fer us, sugar?"
Marty shot him a sloe-eyed look and unfastened the buttons on her leather vest, letting it drop to the floor. "Y' gonna join me?" she asked, a sensual lilt to her voice.
"If yer lucky.," he retorted.
She snorted and turned on her heel, disappearing into the bathroom. "Don't be long, Dixon, or I won't let y' scrub my back."
Merle had the letter open and unfolded before the bathroom door closed, his eyes hungrily scanning the words left by his little peach. He should have known she'd be the one to leave news for him. He wasn't expecting the deluge of emotions which assaulted him. They'd come back for him? Well, he really shouldn't have doubted Daryl would come for him, but it angered him to think Sophia blamed herself for talking him into going to Atlanta in the first place. Didn't she know he wouldn't have gone if he hadn't wanted to? He had been trying to do the right thing … for her.
Benning, he thought, reading further. What the hell did they think they'd find there? Even the emergency broadcast system had crapped out after a while. There wasn't any military to help them if they even made it that far. He smiled as he read her loopy penmanship telling him she would try to leave him a trail of breadcrumbs to follow. Yet it was the last two little paragraphs which had an unfamiliar weight settling in his chest.
And, Merle …please remember to be good. Don't let what you see or hear out there make you mean again. Don't let people you meet keep you from finding your family. We need you. I need you.
And I love you. Don't forget.
-Sophia
He couldn't remember his own mother ever telling him she loved him. His eyes burned as he thought of the girl. What was wrong with her?! Why would she say she loved him? He was Merle Fucking Dixon! He didn't need some snot nosed kid telling him shit like that. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes to quell the burning sensation behind them. Why would she do that?
Because she was Sophia, his peach, the closest thing he'd ever come to having a little daughter or niece of his own, especially now the world had gone to hell. And she loved him … she needed him … and he was stuck at the bunker a day late because of those stupid fucks who'd been chasing his ass all over Atlanta for fuck knew why! Damn them! He knew one damn thing … they were dead the next time he laid eyes on them for keeping him from his family.
"Merle, darlin', y' coming? The hot water's not gonna last forever," Marty called to him, her voice muffled through the bathroom door.
A new determination replaced the anxiety in his chest. He peeled his clothes off – the fabric stiff with walker guts – and strolled into the bathroom to climb into the shower with Marty.
"Y' seem a bit chipper considerin' the crap we've had t' put up with over the last few days," she cooed as she leaned her head back on his shoulder, already feeling the first sparks of lust igniting between them.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck and nipped sharply with his teeth. "What's not t' be chipper about, 'eh? Warm shower, clean clothes, hot woman an' a shout in th' right direction."
"Oh, yeah?" she sighed as his hands splayed over her belly.
"Yep," he murmured, running the flat of his tongue up the slender column of her neck. "Tomorrow we're goin' t' find Daryl and our girls. An' I ain't givin' up til I do."
*.*.*
Daryl forced himself not to tighten his arms around Carol as the door of the Winnebago creaked open and Rick stepped inside. It was nearly dawn; he could tell by the faint traces of pink following behind the former deputy. He put a finger to his lips, warning the man to silence as Rick sat down gingerly at the foot of the bed next to the hunter's feet.
"Where's y' shadow?" he asked in a low whisper. The last thing he wanted was to wake Carol.
"Who Carl? He's still asleep," Rick replied.
Daryl snorted. "Naw … I meant Shane. I woulda called 'im your hemorrhoid, but Carol says I need t' be nicer."
Rick swiped a hand over his face, letting it come to rest against his mouth to hide his grin. "He and Glenn are helping Lori scrounge up some breakfast. He means well."
"Yeah, keep tellin' yerself that," the hunter drawled. "So, what's up?"
"Just wondering when you want to get started. We got about a half hour before sun up." His gaze wandered to Carol nestled against Daryl's chest, a frown marring her smooth brow even in her sleep. "Y'all sleep at all?"
Carol had wept on and off for hours, then she'd gotten angry and tried not to cry, relegating herself to those heart-rending hiccupping sobs which tore at him like fine shards of glass. Finally, she'd gone to sleep a mere two hours ago, listening to him tell her she didn't have to be strong just now. He would be strong for the both of them until he brought Sophia home. Pure exhaustion had pushed her into slumber, he was sure, not anything he said. "Not much," he said. Rick didn't need to know just how ill Carol had made herself.
"Not at all," she mumbled, pushing herself into a sitting position.
"Y' was fakin'?" Daryl growled.
"Well, I was hoping if you thought I was asleep then you would try to sleep. Just goes to show how tired you are that you didn't notice I was faking." She shot him a smug smirk as his eyes narrowed before turning to Rick. "I didn't get a chance to thank you yesterday, Rick … for helping me and Daryl search."
Rick shook his head and took her hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze. "There's no need to thank me, Carol. Sophia's one of our own and we're going to do everything we can to bring her back." He ignored the glare Daryl was sending his way due to his comforting hand in Carol's, but he was getting used to the archer's possessive streak where his woman was concerned. "Come get some breakfast when you're ready. Lori's using the last of the eggs and sausage you brought from the bunker before the ice in the coolers melt and it goes bad."
Daryl finally sat up and pulled his boots on once Rick left. "We'd make better time if we didn't have that lot taggin' along muckin' up the trail," he grumbled.
"Stop," she admonished gently. "You know the more of us searching, the better our chances of finding her."
"Me an' Merle by ourselves coulda prob'ly brought her back last night."
"But Merle's not here … no matter how we may wish otherwise, Daryl."
He sighed heavily and picked up his crossbow, waiting for her to don her jacket and fasten her belt around her waist. "Yeah, an' don't think th' fucker ain't gonna get an earful when he finally catches up t' us."
After a hasty breakfast, they split off into three groups. There was no way Daryl was going to be able to track anything with all of them right up his ass, complaining and stepping all over the trail Sophia had left, but he knew Rick wouldn't allow him and Carol to go it on their own. And she was right … they would have a better chance if they were all looking.
"Daryl, d'you think I could go with you?" Carl asked. He could see worry in the boy's eyes. He must be going a little bit crazy without his friend, and the hunter couldn't find it in his heart to tell him no.
"S'up t' your mom and dad, but yeah, y' can go with me an' Carol if y' want," he said, fiddling with the strap of his bow.
Lori looked skeptical, not wanting to let the boy out of her sight, but Carol nudged her shoulder gently, and her hesitance waned. "You sure?"
She nodded. "Carl will be safe with us. You know Daryl wouldn't let anything happen to him."
Rick found he didn't have any qualms about letting his son go off with Daryl either. He'd seen firsthand how the redneck protected those in his charge. "Alright then. Carl's with Daryl and Carol. Andrea, Glenn and Lori will make up another group, and that leaves Shane with me. T-Dog, being injured as he is, will stay back with Dale and try to get the RV fixed. Any questions?"
Daryl shook his head and started off down the incline without waiting to see what their leader had to say further. He was reeling over the second group. What the hell were they going to do if they ran into any walkers.? It didn't matter if they were armed. They had no training, no survival instinct. They'd be the next bunch he'd end up hunting in the woods.
*.*.*
Rick swiped a hand over his face, ridding it of some of the sweat pouring from his brow, before reaching for his canteen. It was now midday and the heat was nigh unbearable. He felt as if he and Shane were going around in circles as they continued their search for Sophia, and he readily admitted he was no tracker.
He passed the canteen to his partner and came to a stop, letting his gaze take in their surroundings. "Daryl's the only one who has a chance of finding that little girl, y'know? We're not doing a damn bit of good out here unless she jumps out of the trees and screams 'Here I am!'," he lamented sourly.
"C'mon, man," Shane drawled, handing the vessel back to Rick. "You can't think that way. We can cover more ground by splitting up, and you know it." He hung his head, letting his chin rest against his chest. "I hate to think of her out here by herself. She's a tough kid, but all I can think of is her scared and alone."
Rick started moving again, raising his leg high to step over a fallen tree. "You care about her," he said more than asked.
Shane nodded as he followed. "Yeah, I do. Her and Carl are pretty close, so I've gotten to know her pretty well. You should have seen her when we first met. She definitely ain't the same kid."
Rick stopped and looked back at his friend with a puzzled smile. "Yeah? We haven't really had time to talk with everything going on … how'd you even form this particular group? I mean, they're all so diverse."
"Diverse or not, we were all stuck on the highway headed to the refugee centers in Atlanta." He turned his head, gazing off into the trees, his expression pained. "When the planes flew overhead, me and Lori … we headed into the trees where we could get a good look at where they were going, y'know? The city was dark, eerie in the moonlight. You could barely make out the buildings against the skyline … until the first bombs hit."
"Oh, shit, man … you saw it?"
Shane nodded. "Yeah. After the shock wore off, all I could think about was getting Lori and Carl somewhere safe. I remembered the quarry from that call we made out there a few months before your accident. You remember the fight between that foreman and the gravel hauler … nevermind. I just got as many people as possible to follow us there."
"You saved them," Rick murmured softly. "They were lucky you were there that night. So, tell me how Sophia was different."
They kept their voices low. No sense in inviting trouble in case there were more walkers in the woods. It had been too long since they'd been able to enjoy the easy camaraderie of their friendship.
Shane frowned. "She was so withdrawn and quiet, like a little mouse, always hiding behind her mama. She was scared of everything. I think Carol was too, but she was better at hiding it. Took Carl about a week to draw that little girl out of her shell where she'd talk to everyone … least when her daddy wasn't around. Then the Dixon brothers showed up."
"What made you let them stay?"
He snorted. "I didn't really want to, man, but they were just like us in the respect they needed somewhere to go. Didn't hurt that they were able to provide some much-needed meat for the cook fires. Sophia was instantly taken by Merle, fascinated. She followed him around like a shadow. I don't even know when it happened, but the next thing I know, she's talking and laughing and playing with the other kids like she's a different girl. Wasn't too long after that, Carol struck up a friendship with Daryl. She was different too, and then I told you about what happened with Ed."
Rick nodded sagely. "You did right by them … all of them. I know I'll never be able to repay you for what you did for my family, brother."
"Damnit, man, I told you. You don't have to keep thanking me," he said, rubbing a hand over his nape. "You're my best friend; you woulda done the same for me."
"I know you didn't leave me there on purpose, Shane," Rick murmured, noting the guilt spread across his friend's dusty features.
Shane stopped and propped his free hand against his hip, pain evident in his dark eyes. "I tried … you gotta believe I tried to get you out. But there was so much going on. The hospital was overrun with walkers; the military were shooting innocent people in the corridors … I barely got out of there after making sure they couldn't get to you. And then … I just thought it would be best to tell Lori you'd died. You know she wouldn't have left if she'd thought there was still a chance."
Rick closed the distance between them and laid a hand on Shane's shoulder. "It was a tough call … but it was the right one."
"I really didn't think I was lying to her, y'know? If you'd seen what happened that day … I couldn't believe it when you showed up at the quarry. I –"
A strangled cry burst from Rick's open mouth as blood splattered over his face. The gunshot had come out of nowhere to shatter the tranquil silence of the forest. He stared down at his best friend lying against the scattered leaves, blood spreading in a pool against his t-shirt. "Shane!"
A/N: Next time: The search for Sophia continues, Rick meets Hershel and his family, and Carol collapses. Oh, we have lots more to come! Hope you all enjoyed! Please review!
