So this time I'm proud of myself that I didn't keep you waiting for too long! I hope you'll enjoy this little chapter, thank you for reading!
Carol aimed the gun and pulled the trigger. Creature's brain burst and shattered into pieces, covering her in walker's muck. Carol cringed, she would never get used to this. She fired two remaining bullets and sighed in relief when she didn't miss the target and two more walkers dropped dead to the floor. She dug her heels in in front of Daryl's collapsed form and raised her knife. She took down three more walkers before her arm started to ache and tremble. She turned just in time to push away and kill feminine walker who was grabbing Daryl's foot. She casted a quick look at Daryl before turning back to face the walkers.
"Daryl, I know you did your part but if you could help me out here, I would really appreciate it," she tried to rouse him but Daryl remained motionless.
Carol wiped the sweat from her forehead and cried out when one of the walkers bumped straight into her and sent her flying. She landed on top of Daryl and he moaned when she thrust her elbow right into his stomach.
"Sorry," she gasped and scrambled to her knees quickly. Before she managed to get up, two more walkers were looming over her. She bent backwards and sunk her knife deep into one of the ugly faces, doubting there would be enough time to pull it out and kill the other one.
Carol closed her eyes for a second and reached back grasping Daryl's hand.
"I'm sorry too," she whispered, "I'm sorry for all the time we wasted."
She froze when she heard familiar whizzing sound and in the next second a tip of samurai sword stopped just few inches from her face.
"God damn Carol, what are you doing so close to the walker?" Michonne's annoyed voice sounded like heavenly music to Carol's ears, "do you want to get yourself killed?"
Carol swallowed and looked up at Michonne, still clutching Daryl's hand.
"Damn, I must be down to four lives now," she shook her head in disbelief.
Michonne quickly scanned the scene in front of her, nonchalantly beheading two more walkers in the process. She looked at the pile of dead walkers and whistled quietly.
"You two did this?"
"Daryl mostly," Carol answered and her eyes widened when another walker appeared right behind Michonne but she just swung her katana without turning and cut walker's head in half like ripe tomato, "uhm, Mich? We could definitely use a hand with these walkers…if you don't mind?"
"I'm on it," the woman answered with bright smile, "Rick will be here in a sec, he's clearing the walkers around the motel. He's gonna help you with him. Is he all right?"
Carol turned her attention to the man in question. Daryl was still out and she removed sweaty hair from his eyes, leaning over him.
"He'll be all right, he's just totally drained, is all," Carol muttered and leaned over Daryl's motionless body, "Daryl…wake up, we'll be all right, Michonne and Rick are here."
In less than hour the remaining walkers were killed and men started dragging the bodies to one big pile outside.
Carol's face was gloomy. She was kneeling in the kitchen with Daryl's head in her lap. He still wasn't awake and Carol started to worry. Michonne with Rick were there with her and Rick was looking at his friend with anxiety written all over his face. Carol's head snapped up when Rick's breath hitched. She followed the line of his sight and her heart stopped. There was a clear print of set of teeth that had dug into the leather jacket on Daryl's shoulder. She could see that the leather was broken in two places.
Rick quickly knelt down beside her and put his hand on Daryl's forehead.
"He's burning up."
He started taking off Daryl's jacket but Carol pushed him off, the strength of her shove surprising them both.
"He's gonna be all right. He isn't bit," she whispered to herself while she frantically started removing Daryl's clothes.
He wore simple plaid shirt under his jacket and she tugged sharply, opening the shirt at once with buttons flying everywhere. She was aware of Michonne's silent gasp when she revealed Daryl's scarred chest but she paid no attention to it. She just needed to make sure he hadn't been bit. She tilted his head to one side revealing his shoulder to Michonne and Rick. The skin under the bite was irritated but it wasn't broken. Carol ran her fingers over the spot over and over again, making sure she wasn't hallucinating.
"He's not bit, he's not bit, he's all right," she was breathing heavily and she didn't realize she was muttering until Rick gently gripped her wrist and guided her hand to Daryl's forearm.
There was a long scratch and the red swollen skin along the scratch clearly indicated it was inflamed. The ground started spinning under Carol's feet.
"It's not a bite…it's just a scratch, he's gonna be all right!" Carol didn't realize she was raising her voice, "he's not bit!"
"Carol….," Rick started carefully and Carol suddenly felt agonizing fear gripping her stomach. She looked into Rick's eyes and shivered.
They had moved away from the things in the past, they talked them through and through. But some things couldn't be forgotten and some things couldn't be forgiven. He'd taken everything from her once already when he banished her and now it all came back in a flash. Pulling the car handle finding it locked, Rick fiddling with his gun with hard stare, tossing her backpack on the curb and leaving her behind like a piece of trash. And the worst, telling her the things she would remember as long as she lived, things that had hurt her more than any action could. She would never let him to take anything precious from her again.
Carol shifted and positioned herself between Daryl and Rick again.
"You ain't touching him Rick. He'll be all right," she whispered, her voice quivering.
Rick's eyes clouded in confusion but Michonne understood. All it took was Carol's haunted expression and her shaky but determined posture when she straightened up to face Rick. Michonne pushed Rick aside and grabbed Carol's shoulder gently.
"Rick isn't going to touch him Carol. He'll just help to get him to bed, is it OK?"
Carol shifted her eyes from Rick to Michonne and nodded slowly, her tensed posture relaxing a bit. When Rick realized what was going on, his eyes widened in horror.
"Carol, I would never…," he stammered but Michonne just shook her head and he fell silent.
Abraham entered the room and Rick nodded towards Daryl.
"Please help me to take him to Carol's room."
"Carol, if he…," Michonne struggled to find the right words, her heart aching for both her friends.
"If he turns, I'll take care of it," Carol looked into her eyes firmly.
Once she finally shut the door to her room, Carol broke down. She couldn't fight the stress of last couple of days anymore. She sank down against the door, drew her knees to her chest, leaned her forehead on them and finally let it out. Her shoulders were shaking violently and she did her best to muffle her sobs. When she finally felt she could not cry anymore, she scrambled to her feet and walked over to her bed where Daryl was lying motionlessly.
She grabbed a bucket of water Michonne had brought her and moved it closer to the bed. She took the rag and wrung it out, pressing it against Daryl's forehead. She stripped Daryl to his underwear and started cleaning him gently. When he was relatively clean, she treated and bandaged his arm and draped sheets over him before changing the water and cleaning herself as well.
When they were both clean, she climbed to bed next to him. She knew she should be cautious, she should stay alert and she should be ready to face anything when Daryl finally woke up. But she couldn't. She was too tired, too shattered, too broken, too strong for too long. She brought her hands to his face, gently tracking the patterns on his scratchy cheeks.
"Open your eyes Daryl. I want to see those damn blue eyes again," she whispered before she laid her head on his chest and fell into shallow restless sleep.
It was middle of the night when she woke up startled. Silver moonlight made the room look like some dream sequence but Carol knew she wasn't sleeping anymore. She was sweaty and soon she realized it was from the heat coming from Daryl's body. He was still burning up and the fever seemed to be getting worse. She quickly got up and ran for another bucket of cold water, drenching the sheet and wrapping it around him. He stirred and tossed on the bed and Carol started shaking with fear. She gripped his arms and pinned them to bed.
"Daryl…wake up. Daryl, can you hear me? We are OK, just wake up for me Pookie. Wake up," she whispered, emotions thick in her voice.
Her breath hitched when he shivered and his eyelids fluttered. Seconds later she was staring into very tired blue eyes. She felt tears pooling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.
"This is it…just stay with me Daryl…we are both all right, see?"
Her heart sank when he shook his head.
"Carol….I don't know…I don't know if I'm able to fight it…I feel like shit…," he groaned, his voice raspy.
His eyes rolled back and Carol slapped his cheeks lightly, panicking.
"Daryl! Daryl, wake up! You need to fight it, you need to stay awake, do you understand?"
She saw him clenching his fists, clearly trying with all his will to stay awake. He cracked his eyes open again.
"Tie…tie my hands to the headboard," he swallowed and struggled to tell her what he wanted.
Carol just shook head and smoothed his hair.
"Damn it…woman," he growled, clearly irritated, the edge of Dixon's anger trickling through his exhaustion, "do as ya are told at least once, goddamnit!"
With this he passed out again.
"He's right and you know it," quiet voice from the door said and Carol jumped, turning around sharply and wiping off her tears.
Michonne looked at her sympathetically.
"I'll respect your decision Carol, whatever it is. But I can't allow him to become a threat to the rest of us. Or you both …becoming a threat."
Carol stared at the warrior she'd become to respect and slowly nodded.
"Could you get a rope?"
Daryl was feverish and in and out for two days, never staying awake longer than couple of minutes. Carol hadn't moved from the side of his bed. It was at second night when he stirred again and she got up tiredly, each muscle in her body protesting. She checked that the ties were not too tight to hurt his wrists and checked his temperature. Her eyebrows shot up when she realized he didn't feel that hot as before. She put her hands on each side of his face and leaned closer to him.
"Daryl?"
Her heart threatened to burst from joy when his lips curled into very small smile. He tugged at his ties and opened his eyes to look up at her.
"I like when you take charge," he smirked.
I was thinking about some epilogue…what do you think?
