A/N Thanks for the many awesome reviews, they were such a joy to read! Enjoy the chapter!
"Hurry back," Rick told her as she and Carl walked past. "I have a surprise for you."
Checking the lid on the cooler, Carrie raised her eyebrows at this remark and gave a skeptical chuckle. "I hate surprises."
"You'll like this one."
His certainty was bold, and perhaps he had forgotten how fussy should could be. She laughed pleasantly, glad when Carl laughed too. "Good luck with that."
She wanted to brush her hand over his arm or kiss him on the cheek, to share the affection that came to him so naturally, but given present company she chose instead to resist. Carl had already teased her about checking his dad out, she didn't think she could bear the embarrassment of being caught again. Settling for a friendly smile she followed Carl's lead over towards Rosita on the eastern watch post, knowing full well that Rick would be watching them leave.
In a few short minutes they delivered Rosita her meal, Carrie having ensured she got extra garlic sauce as requested. With the first delivery done they headed back past the celebrations towards the townhouses where Holly was sleeping, having kindly taken the night shift that no one wanted. While Carl went inside to put Holly's food in the refrigerator Carrie waited out on the pavement, casting her eyes around the rest of the community. Sam was now happily playing with Tara and Eugene, no longer caring that Sam wouldn't hang out with him, and Pete was watching on. Turning her attention away from him, for he was the least of her concerns, she looked around at the rest of the community.
As she passed her gaze over Denise she reminded herself to get the morning after pill before going home, and with that in mind she looked at Rick again, unable to help herself. He was back sitting with Glenn and Maggie, thanking Michonne and Carol who were making rounds to disperse more cold drinks. He turned away another beer and took a bottle of water instead, tipping half of it into Judith's cup before taking a drink. She looked forward to returning to his side once her task was complete, not caring if she was acting a little love sick. They had some lost ground to make up for, though with the quickie they had indulged in they had certainly gotten off to a good start. She thought about what he said to her a few minutes ago, wondering what the surprise was that he had in store for her.
"So, it's a pretty big elephant," she began when Carl came back outside. Though things had gotten off to a good start it was still a little uncomfortable. She wanted to break the ice, to broach the subject that was indeed becoming the elephant in the room.
Carl frowned and looked up at her as they walked. "Elephant?"
"Yeah, the…" she trailed off, wondering if he understood the phrase. "The elephant in the room? Me and your dad?"
She saw the moment that it clicked in Carl's head, his head nodding when he realised. "Oh yeah, I get it. The elephant in the room…yeah, it's kinda huge."
The awkwardness resumed, having not abated by Carrie's acknowledgement of its existence. Knowing they still had three more watch posts to get through she tried to come up with something to say, something that would help them continue the easy conversation they'd held before. What was Carl interested in? Comic books, woodwork…what the hell was wrong with her? She knew Carl better than that, she knew he had wider interests than what anyone could see on the surface. It had been so much easier before with Rick by their sides, acting as a buffer and quiet presence to help the conversation keep going.
"Dad gave me his ring," Carl suddenly said, raising his hand as they walked.
Carrie furrowed her brow as she looked, a little surprised to find Rick's silver wedding ring on Carl's middle finger, but there was no mistaking it. For a moment it felt like her heart skipped a beat, because she was glad to see it there, she was glad he had taken it off. Until now he'd never given any indication that he was thinking of removing it, that he was ready to part with the symbol of his marriage to Lori. She admitted only to herself that she had been jealous of it, that she had looked forward to the day his fourth finger was empty, but she would have never asked him to take it off. His sudden removal of it that afternoon had been a welcome surprise, especially with the trust that he was doing it for the right reasons. They were starting their life together, he'd mentioned that their own marriage was in their future…it was the right time to remove his wedding ring.
"I didn't ask him to take it off," she said gently, hoping that Carl believed her.
"I know," he said nonchalantly, using his thumb to push the ring back and forth on his finger, its size a little too large. "I told him he should, this morning."
"Oh," she started in surprise, taken aback by this. Carl had told him to?
"He said no at first…said you guys still had lots to learn about each other," he continued, the tone of his voice suggesting that he was looking for information.
"Yes," she admitted, figuring that wasn't too personal. "We do."
Carl continued, dissatisfied with the insight he was gaining. "So…what changed? Why'd he take his ring off?"
Pausing, Carrie considered her choice of words, knowing full well she couldn't tell Carl anything about what she and his father had gotten up to that afternoon. "You'd have to ask him."
He rolled his eyes, still dissatisfied with her answers. Thankfully they quickly reached the south tower, the awkwardness abating as they resumed their task.
"Stacey," Carrie called out. "Lunch is here."
Seconds later Stacey appeared in one of the windows, her long blonde hair casting a halo like glow around her face. With a pointed chin and what seemed like a cold stare Carrie hadn't warmed to her immediately upon her arrival in Alexandria, getting the feeling that she was somewhat like a librarian who shushed first graders. But like she had with everyone she'd eventually warmed up to her, especially when Stacey finally admitted she was an expert marksman with a long hidden desire to take out Walkers. Much like with Carol, there was a little more hidden behind her cardigan.
"You've got some salad, coleslaw, potato casserole, grilled zucchini, corn fritters and sweet potato fries," Carl announced, showing her the plate from afar. "Want us to heat it up for you?"
"Yes, please," Stacey said eagerly.
"I got this," Carl said to Carrie, dumping the cooler and starting to walk away.
"Don't microwave the salad or coleslaw," she reminded him. "Unless you hate Stacey," she joked.
"How did you know?" he laughed, though quietly enough that Stacey didn't hear.
Leaving her behind Carl headed towards the nearest microwave which would be at Bob and Natalie's, simply letting himself in. Left behind Carrie waited patiently, breathing a small sigh of relief before looking back up at Stacey. She was climbing out of the window now, meeting them halfway so that Carrie didn't have to climb up with her broken wrist.
"How's it going with him?" Stacey asked, gesturing after Carl. "I've been watching the celebrations from up here, I could see you all sitting together."
Carrie smiled to herself, glancing over in that direction. Though the solar panels blocked her line of sight she could still hear the gentle hum of their people celebrating the day. "It's going okay," she said honestly. "I'm running out of things to talk to him about."
"Don't try so hard. Young men? They can be more chatty than we realise. Let him do the talking."
Hoping she was right Carrie nodded her head in agreement, glancing over at Bob and Natalie's house once more. She was being silly…she knew Carl, she knew their family often teased the way he never shut up once he got started talking about something. When Carl returned and they went back on their way the silence resumed, both giving one another brief glances from the corner of their eyes. Barely managing to hide an embarrassed smile, she felt relieved that he too had realised how awkward this was, that he shared her nervousness. Just as she opened her mouth to start saying something, likely something stupid, Carl spoke first.
"Dad used to tell me the rumble strip on highways was for blind drivers," he started, clearly trying to fill the silence. "I used to believe him."
Carrie let out an amused chuckle, looking at him fondly. "That's a bit mean."
"Nah," he shrugged. "His dad used to tell him that too, my Grandpa. And he used to tell me that the star on our Christmas tree was for Santa to watch me and make sure I was behaving. I was really well behaved in the living room."
Stacey had been right…let him do the talking. "A nanny once told me that mannequins in the department store were children who got caught touching things."
"A nanny?" Carl frowned as his laughs subsided, and he looked at her curiously. "You had a nanny?"
"I had lots of nannies growing up."
Carl seemed rather unhappy to hear this. "I can't imagine having a nanny…" he muttered, the idea completely foreign to him.
"I didn't mind so much," she said, not mentioning she often liked her nanny more than her parents. "I got someone new every year, I got to mess with them and break them in until they figured me out. I learnt to speak three languages thanks to them."
"What ones?"
"French, German and Italian. I learnt a little Danish, but I can't remember any of it."
He looked at her in awe, looking rather impressed. "That's really cool…might even make up for the hockey thing."
Carrie sighed. "Don't get started on hockey again."
"I could take you on."
"If that's how you feel." She looked at him with a smirk, daring him to keep going, but to his credit he knew when to let it go. "Hey Abe," she called out as they passed Buttons in her stable. "How's it going up there?"
Lowering his binoculars Abraham turned around and looked at them, taking note of the coolers they carried. He gave an impatient laugh, the redness of his face indicating how hot it was up there. "I'm sweatin' like a Jew in the Vatican!" he loudly declared.
Carrie cringed, though she ought to be used to his wildly inappropriate humour. "You want your food hot?"
"You know I like it hot!" he called out devilishly, laughing at his own joke.
Carrie rolled her eyes, pleased to note that the innuendo had clearly gone straight over Carl's head. Diverting straight to the first house they took refuge from the June warmth as they sought the use of the microwave, sorting through the containers and finding the one that would be for Abraham.
"What's the Vatican?" Carl asked as he found Abraham's food.
She looked at him incredulously, so frequently taken aback by the extent of his education, by all the things he ought to know but didn't have the opportunity to learn. "I can't believe your dad pulled you out of school," she teased before kindly explaining.
To her relief the easy conversation that started developing with Carl didn't fade, the two of them standing side by side in the kitchen as they watched Abraham's lunch turning round and round in the microwave.
Carl shrugged. "I hate school, but I wish I knew all this stuff," he muttered forlornly. "Dad said I'm not going back next week."
Carrie frowned at this, surprised. "Why's that?"
Again, Carl shrugged. "It's getting annoying now…I'm kind of bored. Don't tell him I said that," he said hastily. "I'm not allowed to see Ron either, not that he's a big loss."
Nodding along, Carrie took care to ensure that he didn't suspect she already knew this. It didn't matter if Carl's education suffered in the short term, Rick was keeping him away from Ron whatever the cost. Regardless of whatever agreement he and Pete had reached, Rick wasn't completely trusting of it, of Ron in particular. It made sense of course, particularly given how unremorseful Ron had been about the pain his exposure of Rick's relationship with her had caused. Ron knew about the circumstances surrounding Judith's paternity…Rick was afraid he would tell Carl.
"Is it because of what happened last week?" Carl asked, his tone rather disheartened. "You know, when I…"
She was surprised by his question, mainly that he was directing it at her. "You mean what happened with the Wolves?" she asked, glancing at the line of stitches above his right elbow. "He's not punishing you for that."
"I know," he said hastily, pursing his lips. "It's just that he hardly lets me go anywhere alone at the moment. I get it, I mean I know I was sneaking out a lot and he doesn't trust me, but -"
"He trusts you," she cut him off abruptly, not wanting him to go on feeling the way he was. It was Pete and Ron that he didn't trust.
He looked up at her hopefully, realising she must have some kind of insight. "Then why?"
She paused, choosing an answer that wasn't necessarily untruthful. "Did it occur to you that maybe he misses you?" It appeared that this was news to Carl, his skeptical expression prompting Carrie to continue. "A couple of weeks ago he was talking about not making you go to school so often. He wants to be able to spend more time with you."
Carl still seemed skeptical. "I thought he'd want to spend more time with his new girlfriend," he said lightly.
It seemed the elephant in the room still lingered, a constant reminder of how badly they had handled their relationship in regards to Carl. Her gut writhed as she remembered what he had said to her the day he found out, that she could fuck his dad all she liked but that it wouldn't make her family. With this in mind she considered her response carefully. This was sensitive territory, a subtle indication about the worries he felt towards new relationship. Surely he must know that he and his sister would always be Rick's priority, that no matter what Carrie would always be second? She'd accepted that long ago, acknowledged that Rick had to be a parent first above all else…Carl didn't necessarily recognise that.
"I know it's probably hard to see it right now, but I'll never be a greater priority than you and Judith. I can't compete with someone's children," she said seriously. "I won't compete."
Though he nodded, Carl remained silent for a few moments, perhaps unsure of what to say. Wanting to fill the silence Carrie took the opportunity to express something she should have said before now.
"I'm sorry for what we did, for how long we kept our relationship from you." She resisted the urge to explain further, to tell him that she had pushed Rick to do it but that he had been afraid of his son's reaction. Carl didn't want to hear their excuses. "You deserved better from us. I'm sorry."
His discomfort with her apology was palpable, and he avoided eye contact as he considered his response. His hands were clenched into fists, his arms folded across his chest, but he didn't seem angry. Finally the tension in his body seemed to ease, and he released a slow breath of air.
"Thanks, I guess," he said quietly, glancing up at her for just a moment. "I'm sorry too. You know, for being a jerk. I know I made things hard for you guys."
"You don't owe me an apology." She paused now at let things linger a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "So…are you and I okay?"
"Yeah, we're cool," he nodded without hesitation, and then a moment later he gave a sly grin. "You want to make all this up to me?"
"How?" she asked cautiously.
"Can I see your tattoo?"
She rolled her eyes. "No."
"Please? Just a peak. I won't even look at your ass."
"It's on my ass!
"Yeah, but I won't look," he laughed.
"Then how will you see it?"
"I'll look but I won't look."
Though she understood the distinction he was trying to make, Carrie shook her head in refusal, far too embarrassed to show him. It had finished heating over a minute ago, and so she opened the microwave and removed the container of food. "Take this to Abraham, and hurry up!"
"You're such a buzz kill."
Carl departed and Carrie watched him go for a moment, her heart rejoicing and a great weight having been lifted off her shoulders. That conversation was overdue by now, and it had gone better than she had expected. As she warmed Daryl's lunch and took care to ensure that it was olive free, she watched Carl through the living room window. He took Abraham's food straight over, going to the effort of climbing up the ladder so that he didn't have to leave his post. They chatted for a short while before he turned and came back, swinging his arms back and forth as he walked. The wound from where the Wolves had attacked him last week was healing nicely, and if he intended to play baseball that afternoon it mustn't be bothering him much.
As if they hadn't just had a very important conversation, Carl came back and immediately started on about her tattoo again, playfully trying to bargain for a peek at it. Far too embarrassed to show him, for he'd never let up if he knew she had Tinkerbell tattooed on her ass, she stoutly refused and set him back to work dispersing the meals among those who were not at the celebrations.
"How's it going with him?" Daryl asked a few minutes later, gratefully taking the food and can of soda she passed up to him. On the north post between Jessie and Rosemary's house, Daryl was one of the last to receive his meal.
"Good," she said with a smile, glancing back. Carl was delivering the remaining two meals, one to Sasha in the second house, and one to Jessie on the other side.
"He ain't tearin' yah to shreds?"
She shook her head. "Everything's working out," she smiled, beginning to feel the relief that came with these words. The breaking of the ice was getting easier and easier with every passing moment.
"Good, 'bout fucking time," he muttered, looking at his lunch with great approval. "You got anythin' other than Coke?"
"No," she said apologetically. "You don't like Coke?"
He shook his head brusquely, politely handing it back. "Rot yah teeth."
Carrie looked at him in mild disbelief, clearly recalling stories he'd told her of his wilder days - at times he could be a walking contradiction. "After all the shit you got up to, you draw the line at Coke?" she teased.
"I ain't drinking nothin' yah can clean a toilet with."
"I'll get you something else from home," she offered, heading back there already.
"Nah, don't go outta yah way."
"I'll get you something else. A glass of milk? A supplement shake?" she teased, always amused by the way Daryl hated people fussing over him.
Just catching the playful fuck off he muttered under his breath, she grinned as she turned and headed back home. She didn't mind going out of her way for Daryl, if he wanted something other than Coke, she'd get it for him. As she came back in the side door and headed for the kitchen she met Carl as he was coming in the front door, noting that he was in a rush.
"Where you going in such a hurry?"
"Just changing my clothes," he said, taking the stairs two at a time.
Carrie bit her tongue, wondering if he was changing his clothes because of Enid. Before they had changed to play on the water slide Enid had pointed out that Carl had spilt sauce on his white shirt, and he'd seemed pretty embarrassed. But he wasn't to know that Rick had told her about what happened with Enid, that the two of them had shared an awkwardly perfect kiss the week before. As she waited Carrie went to the refrigerator and put the can of Coke inside, selecting instead a lemonade she knew Daryl would prefer. Making the exchange she closed the refrigerator and headed for the side door again, but as she passed the foot of the stairs she came to a stop, deciding she'd wait for Carl to join her. Stacey had been right, Carl was more talkative than she realised, and with each passing moment it was getting easier for them - she wanted his company again, she wanted to resume their earlier conversation.
Sinking down onto the bottom stair she looked around the small hallway area and then out towards the living area at the front of the house. She hadn't been back here since the day she had left, and sitting here now felt like a rare treat, something she'd been waiting for a while - in that respect she supposed it was something she'd been waiting for. Once Jessie was settled after Father's Day Carrie would return back to this house, to her rightful home. Things would revert to a new version of normal, one she and Rick both eagerly welcomed, Carl too. When the time was right she had no doubt that she would move into Rick's bedroom while Carl took hers…and one day in the future they's talk about getting married. She gave a small laugh of disbelief at this thought…marriage? Rick had asked her if she still saw any value in it these days, and before that moment she hadn't. It didn't seem like something for her, rather an institution reserved only for perfect couples like Glenn and Maggie. But now? She and Rick deserved that if it was what they wanted…clearly it was what he wanted. Now that he'd brought it up, she wanted it too.
"Come on!" she called out loudly, looking up to the first floor. "Hurry up Carl!"
There was a slight creak that announced the presence of someone else, but it wasn't until they spoke that Carrie noticed she wasn't alone.
"What's the rush there, Carrie?"
Whirling around she felt her breath catch in her throat, her heart surely skipping a beat. She looked towards the front door where a lone figure had appeared, someone who definitely should not be there. Pete stood in the threshold, his tall stature crowding the door frame as he passed through and entered the home. Momentarily stunned Carrie looked at him in disbelief, trying to understand what her eyes were showing her.
"Pete…" she said blankly, still staring at him. She felt dumfounded, unable to comprehend his presence there.
"Yes."
Looking past him she searched for the person accompanying him, the guard that should be supervising his every move…but he was alone. She slowly got to her feet and faced him. "Rick's not here," she said automatically, wondering if this was just an innocent mistake. Pete was behaving himself…he and Rick had an agreement.
"No."
"Rick's not here," she repeated.
When he didn't reply she felt a cold shiver run through her body, a distinct feeling of panic beginning to develop in the back of her mind. She could feel her heart rate speeding up in anticipation, her muscles tense and ready even though her mind was still catching up. What was Pete doing here? His behaviour made no sense, he and Rick had an agreement. But she knew what her body was telling her was true, that she was in danger and so was Carl.
"What do you want?" she asked quietly, taking a step back as he stepped forward. She let her left hand drift down to her leg, but her panic intensified when she remembered that she wasn't wearing her gun holster…she had nothing to protect herself with. "Pete? What do you want?"
His demeanour pleasant, Pete looked around the living area, running his hand over the back of Judith's high chair by the kitchen bench. "Have you noticed that he has everything he's taken away from me?"
"He?" she questioned, though there was no doubt he was referring to Rick.
As Pete nodded Carrie hastily considered her options, her choice of which was quickly dwindling. Pete was blocking her access to the gun safe at the front of the house, a realisation that frightened her…he'd done that on purpose, he knew exactly what he was doing. She glanced into the kitchen, knowing that although she wouldn't make it to the knife block in the corner, she could make it to the steak knives in the top drawer. She could make it there, but a hand to hand fight with someone Pete's size? She'd never survive that. As Pete took another step closer Carrie echoed him in return, going back until the heel of her shoe hit the bottom stair. She could run upstairs…even in high heels she could make it to the main bedroom where Carl was, but Pete could break the door down in seconds. That was not an option, she couldn't draw Pete towards Carl. She had to draw him away, she had to protect Rick's son at any cost. Seeking her only other option she glanced to her left, looking at the side door she had left ajar. She could make it…she could get out and draw Pete away from Carl.
Suddenly Pete was advancing on her, his fists clenched and his eyes narrowed, and Carrie was forced to act. She dropped the can of soda and ran for it. In barely a second she had reached the side door, her fingers wrapped around the side to throw it back and burst outside, but Pete was too quick for her. He was on her immediately, shoving her hard against the door, knocking all the breath out of her as he slapped a hand over her mouth. As he tried to close the door Carrie gave a muffled cry of pain, fighting and trying to free herself when Pete jammed her fingers between the door and the frame.
Her hand was in agony, the top of the plaster cast scraping against the frame as she tried to free herself, but it was to no use. Still holding his hand over her mouth Pete held her steady, keeping her trapped his he reached up and made sure the door stayed where it was, her fingers still stuck. Her heart was pounding painfully hard inside her chest, her legs like jelly as she took stock of the situation, of the strength and cruelty Pete was showing in this moment. As the pain in her hand continued her eyes moistened with tears, another whimper of pain building in her throat. Pete was all around her, his body pressed up against her back, taking complete control of her, and there was nothing she could do.
"Don't scream," he instructed softly, whispering the words against the side of her neck. "Don't scream, and I'll let your hand out."
She thought of Daryl two houses away on the north post…he might not hear her even if she did scream. Very slowly she nodded, desperate to relieve the pain that was radiating through her broken wrist. Finally Pete relented the pressure on the door, allowing her to pull her fingers free with a quiet moan of relief. But he wasn't done, and he continued holding her there against the door even after he closed it and turned the deadbolt.
"Are you going to cooperate?"
Did she have a choice? She nodded in agreement, praying that Carl stayed upstairs, that he was still changing his clothes. It didn't matter what happened down here so long as he stayed away. Trusting her agreement, Pete stepped back and put some space between them, but he kept his hand across her mouth. The space didn't last long however, for the next moment he had his hand on her waist and was steering her to follow him, touching her as though he was someone who loved her. Nevertheless she came cooperatively, cradling her right hand against her stomach as she tried to anticipate what he would do. It was with relief that she turned around and found Carl no where to be seen, that he was remaining uninvolved so far, but her relief faded when Pete led her into the garage and closed the door behind them. The privacy it gave him sent chills down her spine, making her feel even more trapped, as though the walls were about to close in on them.
Without wasting time Pete steered her around the massive pile of supplies from the now empty safe house towards the other side of the garage, her heart sinking when she realised where he was taking her. The two gun cabinets stood tall and intimidating, each of them housing a variety of firearms, ammunition and weapons that she didn't want Pete to get his hands on. But as she anticipated he led her straight over to the closest one, and when they stood before it he wrapped his arm around her waist and stood pressed against her back, using touch to intimidate her…it was effective.
"Open it."
With his hand still over her mouth she couldn't give a verbal answer, and she settled for shaking her head. He asked her twice more, and twice more he ignored her answer before becoming impatient. The hand that was around her waist began moving up, slowly stroking her stomach before reaching for her breast, and though she had been scared before now she was terrified. She protested immediately, squirming around to dislodge his hand, forcibly pushing it away only for it to come straight back. Having no regard for what he was doing to her he cupped her breast at his leisure, a soft laugh echoing in his throat as he moved to the other one next.
"Open it…now."
Again she shook her head, but her resolve started to crumble when he lowered his hand and started lifting her dress, and despite her struggles he slipped his hand underneath and placed it on her thigh. She stopped thinking now, wanting only to stop what he was doing to her as the possibility of being raped suddenly became very real to her. Gaining a moment of success she slammed the pointed heel of her shoe into the top of his foot, satisfied by the painful growl he made, but he was relentless in his attempt to terrorise her into cooperation. Perhaps toeing the line of actually assaulting her any further Pete moved his hand in small increments, slowly moving upwards, and it was then that her resolve broke. Memories rushed back in one intense, startling moment, and when she remembered those men on top of her, touching her, it was then that her resolve broke.
She started nodding, verbally making her cooperation heard as best she could with his hand over her mouth. Finally Pete seemed satisfied, his hand on her inner thigh coming to a halt, but he didn't remove it. Keeping it there he gestured to the combination lock on the gun safe, prompting her to open it. Trembling, and forced to use her newly injured hand, Carrie entered the six digit combination, but intentionally entered an incorrect digit. As she expected it to a red light appeared above the handle, a soft buzz indicating that she had gotten it wrong.
"Try again."
Doing as instructed she entered the same combination. She couldn't let Pete have whatever was in this gun safe, no matter what he did to her. Once he got his hands on a gun he would kill her, he would kill anyone within sight until he was stopped, she was certain of it.
Frustrated with her he wrenched her over to the other gun safe, gesturing to it as he removed his hand from her mouth. "Open it!"
Still feigning cooperation she did as was instructed, entering the incorrect combination again. "Rick must have changed it," she whispered hoarsely, wishing her voice sounded stronger, more confident.
"Don't lie to me," he growled, digging his fingertips into her thigh as warning. "Open it."
"I'm trying," she gasped, trying to relieve the uncomfortable pressure of his fingertips. "He must have changed it."
He didn't waste any more time arguing and instead suddenly stepped away and wrenched her back, the motion making her lose her balance. Her feet slipped out from under her and she fell, landing awkwardly on the pile of supplies and scrambling to orient herself. She lunged to grab something, anything she could use to protect herself, but just like before Pete was on her before she could do anything. He seized her underneath the knees and dragged her with all the ease of a child and toy, growling at her as he avoided her attempt to kick him. His hand covered her mouth, his body pinning her down as his face loomed over hers, completely in control, and there was nothing she could do. She struggled, her arms and legs flailing beneath him, but his strength was far superior. In seconds he rendered her motionless, his knees pinning her legs down while he used one arm to hold both of hers aside.
A long moment passed in silence, Carrie breathing heavily through her nose as she looked up at him. He smiled at her innocently, the same charismatic smile that had won her trust the day she met him upon arriving in Alexandria. She'd never been so wrong in her life, and now she was paying for it. He warned her to be quiet as he removed his hand from her mouth, and she obeyed, not wanting to do anything that might draw Carl near. If they were lucky he might think she had returned to the celebrations and follow her there.
"If I can't have mine," Pete whispered, looking her in the eye. "Then he can't have his either."
She didn't understand what he was saying, there was no way for her to even try comprehending it in that moment. All she could think of was the way he held her down, taking complete control and forcing her to submit. It didn't matter how much she had changed and grown in the last year, she couldn't take being raped again, she couldn't possibly survive it a second time. As she started to cry her previous intention to protect Carl changed, and now she wanted to scream and call for help, but panic had almost rendered her mute.
Taking advantage of her silence, Pete tested her by lowering his hand to the top of her leg. In the scuffle her dress had been pushed up, and he quickly took advantage of her vulnerability. As if it was no big deal he moved his hand up her leg to the front of her hip, touching her at his leisure, and when he slipped his fingers underneath the side of her underwear bile began to rise in her throat. She tried to struggle, to get his hands away from her, but he was far too strong. He knew exactly what he was doing, how to terrorise her into cooperation.
"You're going to open the safe," he said calmly, his breath hot against her neck. "Do you understand? You're going to open it."
"P-Pete, don't," she finally managed to say, her voice small and weak. She struggled when he ignored her again, desperately trying to pull her legs out from under him while his hand continued stroking the front of her hip. "Please, get off me…"
To her disbelief Pete stopped now, but his attention was not on her. Very suddenly he sat up, the motion causing him to dig his knees into her thighs and eliciting a pained gasp from her. She trembled as she lay beneath him, her breaths shaky and her eyes wet as she tried to collect herself. Finally she turned her head and looked at what had captured Pete's attention, her heart sinking even further when she saw Carl standing in the garage doorway. There was a long moment of silence, all three people shocked into silence. Struggling to figure out what he was seeing Carl looked at the scene in horror, trying to connect the dots. He looked at Carrie, and as he took in her trembling hands and wet eyes he drew his own conclusions.
"Well this is awkward," Pete laughed awkwardly, moving off her. "Looks like we've been caught."
Carl didn't buy it, his eyes darting back to Carrie. Noticing this, Pete swiftly grabbed her dress and pulled it back down as if he was trying to shield her privacy. Her body paralysed with fear she stayed stock still, watching Carl and waiting for something to happen, anything. Run, Carl…please make a run for it. Instead he did the opposite, his eyes fixated on Pete as he came into the garage, and it was a few moments before she realised what he was doing. His movements cautious so as to not startle Pete, he began reaching for the handheld radio that was kept on the desk by the security camera monitors. Just as she realised this so too did Pete, and he acted swiftly to stop Carl calling for help.
"Don't," he growled at Carl. Grabbing Carrie by the elbow he roughly hauled her up onto her knees, and she didn't fight him him as he moved behind her, winding his arms around her waist and embracing her as if they were lovers. "Get him out of here," he whispered into her ear. "Or I'll tell him about his whore mother."
She didn't even need to consider the threat. "Carl," she said abruptly, stopping him in his tracks. "Don't."
"What?" he said, looking at her in disbelief. He looked at Pete too, horrified by the way he was touching her.
"Get him out of here," Pete repeated, tightening his arms around her waist. "Now."
"Go and get your dad," she said firmly, forcing herself to sound stronger than she felt. Carl had to see her in control, he had to see that she was confident and assured, or else he'd never leave.
"No!" he exclaimed, looking at her incredulously. Ignoring her instructions he picked up the radio and reached for the power button.
"Carl!" she said again, raising her voice a little. "Now!"
To her relief he stopped and looked at her, torn between his instincts and what he was being told to do. "But -"
"Go and get your dad," she said impatiently, hastening him. "Bring him here in person. Now."
Still he hesitated, but just as Carrie was about to repeat her instructions he finally complied. He lowered the radio and set it back on the desk, his expression anguished about what he was doing. His every instinct must be telling him to stay, to protect her rather than listen to her instructions, but she only prayed he left. Rick had made it abundantly clear that he wanted to protect his son from the truth, and that if he had to know he needed to learn in the right way, from the right person. He was protecting his son's heart, and that responsibility was now in Carrie's hands too. Not only did she have to protect his heart, she had to protect him, period. He couldn't be here right now, he couldn't be involved in whatever it was Pete was planning to do to her. Turning away Carl's help was a risk she had to take…a risk she was willing to take.
"Go," she repeated, trying to force him to leave. "Get out of here, now!"
"Okay," he said very quietly, beginning to back out of the garage and into the hallway. "Pete, don't do anything to her…okay?"
"Just get your Dad," Pete requested, placating his fears. "Then everything will be fine."
Carrie breathed a sigh of relief when Carl tore his eyes off her and left, his footsteps rushed as he disappeared from sight. Pete too seemed to breath a sigh of relief, his arms around her waist loosening a little. A few seconds passed before her let her go completely and got to his feet, but he placed his hand on the crown of her head to keep her down. Trying to claw back some ounce of control she shook her head and tried to move away, trying to put some distance between them. She was surrounded by a variety of innocuous items that could make a weapon, but they were all just out of her reach. Now that Carl was gone she could take that risk, she could try for one of them, but Pete wouldn't allow it. He clenched his hand into her hair, pulling it tightly as he ushered her back to her knees.
"Stay exactly like that," he instructed, moving closer so that his legs were pressed against her shoulders. "I want him to find you on your knees in front of another man," he said cruelly, still holding her hair. "Like I said, if I can't have mine then he can't have his."
Carrie closed her eyes for a moment, finally understanding what he meant. He has everything he's taken away from me.While his family was falling apart, Rick's was coming together, and he couldn't stand to see it…he wasn't doing this to hurt Carrie, he was doing this to hurt Rick, to take her away from him. Pete was exacting his revenge on Rick, avenging his broken family as if he wasn't the one who had broken them in the first place. Seconds passed in silence, Carrie still catching her breath as she glanced at Pete, uncomfortably aware of his proximity. He wanted Rick to find her on her knees in front of someone else, but how far was he going to go with that?
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I thought you and Rick talked," she began, trying to reason with him. "He said you sorted things out."
"We talked?" Pete questioned, laughing at her. "Is that what he told you?"
"He sa-"
Wrenching her head back a little, Pete bent down and growled into her ear. "He came to me in the middle of the night…the whole group. They tied me up, said they were going to choke me to death and then dump my body with the Roamers in the sewer. Said he'd tell my boys that I was running away like a coward…he'd say that to my boys!" he shouted.
Looking through the garage door into the hallway, she watched as the shadows moved. Someone was coming, but surely Rick couldn't be there so quickly? "Let me go," she insisted, focusing on that one request. "Let me go, or he'll kill you for this."
"I know he will…just as long as I get his first."
Just as he said this he suddenly stood up, a sharp tug on her scalp making her cry out in pain and fear. She resisted with everything she had, certain that this was the moment he snapped, that he was going to push her down and start raping her. Rick would catch him in the act, and though it would be his own death sentence there was no denying that it would extract the vengeance Pete was seeking. But he wasn't pushing her to the ground, rather he was pulling her up to her feet instead, her eyes watering in pain as he yanked at her hair until she stood. Similar to before Pete stood behind her, putting his arms around her waist and holding her close, but only then did she realise what he was doing, that she had just become a human shield. She gave a low groan of frustration when she saw who it was arriving.
Carl was back, standing in the threshold of the garage with a gun pointed in their direction. He looked remarkably calm given the situation, but his presence was not a reassurance for Carrie. Why wasn't he listening to her? He was supposed to get out of there, to find safety for himself instead of trying to help her.
"Carl, go!" she shouted angrily. "Get out!"
He ignored her, coming further into the garage and closing in on them, his approach forcing Pete to back up. "Let her go, now."
Pete chuckled at this, keeping his face behind Carrie's head for protection. "Kid's got balls, I'll give him that," he whispered. "Let's tell him…"
"Carl, listen to me," she said firmly, catching his gaze and holding it. "I want you to go. Please."
Shaking his head he came closer again. "Let her go, or I'll shoot you."
Unconcerned, Pete laughed loudly, the volume making Carrie shudder. "Really? You'll shoot me?" he goaded. "You'll shoot her too then. Who's going to save her if I'm dead, huh?"
Still laughing, Pete continued goading Carl, enticing him to come closer yet again by lowering one hand from Carrie's waist. "Are you going to let me do this to her?" he questioned as he slipped his hand under her dress again. "Aren't you going to stop me?"
"Let her go!"
"Carl, please!" she shouted again. "Get out of here!"
As Pete shoved his hand between her legs and groped her she did the only thing she could think of to stop him. Kicking off one of her heels she immediately lowered her height a few inches, dislodging his hand enough that she could shove it aside completely. Carl was quick to take advantage of this, moving his finger to the trigger the moment Pete's head was exposed, but his opportunity was gone as Pete quickly adapted and took cover again.
He laughed again, teasing them both. "Nice try," he whispered against the back of her neck. "That was good."
Carrie ignored him, holding eye contact with Carl. "I want you to go," she said lowly, her voice low and steady. "There's nothing you can do. Please go."
"I'll tell him," Pete decided, no longer bothering to keep his voice low.
The comment made Carl falter, his attention lapsing for a moment. "Tell me what?"
"Carl, you're going to get hurt if you stay," she said urgently. "Go!"
"Look at her Carl," Pete continued, moving closer to him. "A love bite on her neck, sexy underwear, no bra. No wonder your dad will fuck this bitch any chance he gets. I bet she su-"
"Stop it," Carl shouted angrily, his finger moving back to the trigger. "Let go of her!"
"Carl! Carl, look at me," she said urgently, repeating herself until he did. She held his gaze, ignoring Pete when he reached up and put his hand over her breast. This had gone on for long enough, she had to take a risk and do something, but she couldn't do it while Carl was so close to them. "Step back, please…take a few steps back."
He looked at her incredulously, his eyes constantly flicking between she and Pete, but incredibly he finally obeyed. Never lowering his gun, Carl hesitantly began moving away, putting space between himself and them as he backed away to the other side of the garage.
"Does he satisfy you in the bedroom, Carrie?" Pete asked next, speaking loudly enough for Carl to hear. "Do you think that's why Lori stepped out on him? Because he didn't keep her screaming his name?"
"Don't listen to him, Carl!" she said loudly, seeing the confusion that was crossing his face. "He's full of shit, he's trying to provoke you!"
"Am I?" Pete laughed. "Why don't you ask your sister, huh? Let's ask your sist-"
Desperate to stop him finishing that sentence Carrie reached out with her foot and kicked at the workbench on her left, the loud rattle of tools and metal drowning out what Pete said. As she kicked a second time Pete stumbled, his grip loosening just enough to almost free her. Before she could try again the enormous sound of a gunshot made her cry out, the motion of falling making her certain she had been shot. There was barely a split second to comprehend that she wasn't hurt, the shock of hitting the ground rendering her silent in that crucial moment. She looked up to see Carl on the other side of the garage, advancing on them to seek a clearer shot. In that moment she felt a brief reassurance that a shot had been fired, that help must now be coming, but her relief was short lived.
Still using her to shield himself, Pete wrenched her back upright and took a step towards Carl, and that was all he needed her for. It seemed he had made a split second decision, realising that it was going to be over in seconds, that his opportunity was almost gone. What he was doing to them wasn't personal, it wasn't them he was really trying to hurt. It was Rick he wanted to hurt, and he knew what would cause the most agony. His target changing, Pete roughed shoved her aside and lunged for Carl.
What would hurt Rick the most? The death of his girlfriend, or his child?
Carrie knew what was going to happen before she could even look, before she could do anything to stop it. There was a struggle, the sound of supplies being kicked and stepped over as Carl and Pete briefly fought for the gun, and then it was over. The second gunshot was as deafening as the first, the sound tormenting her, and she was screaming before she even looked. She raised her head just in time to see Carl stagger back a few steps, his shoulders slumping as he turned to her and revealed the horrific injury to his face. His lips moved as he tried to say something to her, but before he could say it he collapsed, his body crumpling to the floor with the type of finality that only came with death.
She acted without the conscious decision to do so, and she scrambled to her feet and rushed over to where he lay, pushing Pete aside as she went. Sinking to her knees she tentatively reached for Carl, turning his head and seeing for the first time what had really happened. Blood was coursing down the right side of his face, and though her instinct was to stem its flow she didn't know where to start. No, no, no, the mantra in her head chanted as she dissolved into denial. She had to take this back, she had to do something. They needed to swap places, there was still time for them to change things…Carl couldn't die.
"Pete, help him!" she started screaming, even though he was the one who had hurt him. "Help him!"
Knowing she was on her own here she lunged to the centre of the garage where the safe house supplies were, hastily grabbing one of the blankets that sat on top of the pile. She had to apply pressure to the wound, to stem the blood steadily coursing down Carl's face onto the floor below, but she never got the chance. Before she could turn back to him, before she could offer pointless words of reassurance to his unconscious form she was being hauled away from him, Pete looping his arm around her waist and effortlessly pulling her back. As her ability to help Carl vanished she started screaming again, her body acting without thought as she struggled against her attacker. Her efforts to fight him off were in vain, for he was far to strong for her, she had no chance. They collapsed to the ground together, Pete snarling when she lashed out and hit him across the face with her cast, but he was relentless. Just like before he subdued her with unfair ease, straddling her legs and pinning her down.
Her screams for help were abruptly silenced when his hands moved around her throat, the sudden tightness startling her before she realised what was happening. She gave a small gasp, drawing a difficult breath as she reached up and tried to move his hands, but when they tightened again she started to panic, realising that she was now fighting for her life as well as Carl's. Pete was going to kill her, he was going to strangle her right here in her own home, and she couldn't stop him. On the inside she was screaming, her heart filled with terror as she started fighting him, thrashing around as she clawed at his hands to push them off, scratching and digging her fingernails in. His grip lapsed for a brief moment that allowed her to suck in a gulp of air, almost getting her fingers underneath his before he readjusted his grip again.
Surely she'd never felt anything so painful, there'd never been anything as awful as the pain in her throat and the desperation to take a breath, her chest heaving for the oxygen it wouldn't get. Though in reality the attack had only last seconds it felt like forever, Carrie feeling every excruciating moment. Her strength waned as the seconds slipped by, her will to fight for her life beginning to feel too burdensome. Above her Pete was staring at the opposite wall, not even giving her the respect of looking her in the eye as he killed her. Determined to claw his very eyes out she reached for his face, her despair growing when she couldn't reach and was forced to settle for clawing at his arms. He had his knees pressed onto her legs, stopping her from doing anything other than flailing around beneath him. She had nothing with which to protect herself, no weapon of any kind that was within her reach.
Conscious throughout every moment she dug her fingernails into his wrists and held them there, but she turned her attention to Carl. She looked at him in despair, unable to believe that she couldn't help him, that she couldn't save Rick's son. Blood was pooling around his head, movement from his leg indicating that he was still alive, but she couldn't do anything. They were going to die here, and Rick would be left with nothing. Her death he could survive, of that she was confident, but Carl's death? He'd never be the same man again.
As this thought occurred to her, suddenly it was over. The weight on top of her gently eased, Pete's hands around her neck releasing without warning. Immediately the pain stopped, her release allowing her to draw the most beautiful and painful breath of her life. Laying prone she sucked in the air as quickly as she could, feeling it enter her throat and fill her lungs in a painful rattle, but it didn't matter. A fogginess she only just noticed began to clear from her head, her mind catching up to the realisation that she was alright, but with clarity came a different type of pain. Daryl was there, and he fell to his knees beside Carl with an agonised moan. Never in her months of knowing him had she seen Daryl crying, had she seen such anguish and devastation on his face, but it revealed itself to her in that moment. She could hear Abraham's voice too, growing closer and closer as he rushed to the scene. With the knowledge that someone was helping Carl, Carrie turned her attention elsewhere.
The only thing she wanted to do right now was lay down on the floor, to catch her breath and take stock of everything that hurt, but it was not over yet. Each breath strained her throat as she turned her head and looked to her left, her panic returning when she found Pete laying right beside her propped up on his elbow. She scrambled to get away from him, her legs almost giving out as she collapsed onto the nearby supplies and then settled there, unable to go any further. Confident with the space between them she stayed where she was, still gasping for breath as she looked at him with a sense of satisfaction. His eyes were focused and attentive as he looked at Daryl's bolt that had entered his right lower abdomen and broken through to the other side. Taking slow breaths he tentatively assessed the entry wound, wincing and gasping as he pulled his shirt away. The sight of him actually applying his own first aid made her laugh, though her amusement quickly turned into a wince of pain. At the sound he looked up and made eye contact with her. There was no hint of the malice that had driven him to attack her and Carl, but there was no regret either. He simply looked at her, his expression blank except for the resolute understanding that she had won this round.
Her legs were barely able to hold her as she struggled to her feet, but she was determined. From the corner of her eye she noted that Abraham had hauled Carl into his arms, his legs swinging limply as he was rushed out of the garage and to the Infirmary. It was the knowledge that he was being cared for that allowed her to focus on what had to happen next. Bypassing the myriad of items that could be a weapon she found the one she wanted, abandoned by it's owner in his haste to get to Carl. Daryl was still there, lingering in horror while Abraham went on ahead, but he caught her eye and realised what she was doing. He lunged for his abandoned crossbow, knowing that she didn't know how to use it, but she beat them there and grabbed it first. The weapon was heavy and difficult to wield, but neither that nor Daryl's protest stopped her from taking it. She didn't need to know how to load it in order to use it.
Carrie always thought that if she did something like this it would be in the heat of the moment, that she would have snapped, that she wouldn't truly be in control of herself. But as she came over to Pete and raised the crossbow above her head she acknowledged that she was in complete control. She knew exactly what she was doing, it was a conscious decision she made and carried out. Pete looked up as she took the first swing, giving her the satisfaction of showing a glimpse of fear before the first blow. She brought the crossbow down on his head as hard as she could, feeling the metal reverberate as it connected with his skull. The force sent the weapon tumbling from her fingertips, her strength weakened by the growing pain in her already broken wrist, but she wasn't done yet.
"…you're part of a group that includes my children," Rick had told her once. "One day, you're going to have to kill for them."
She wasn't done yet. She thought about what Pete had told Carl about his mother, about what he had done to him, what he had done to her. As he groaned in pain and collapsed onto his side she scrambled to pick up the fallen crossbow again, wasting no time before raising it and then bringing it down again. It didn't matter that he was their best doctor, that Maggie might need him in the final weeks of her pregnancy, the moment he had attacked that day he had signed his own death warrant. There was no way Pete was going to survive this. If she didn't kill him, Rick would, and there'd be a line behind him after…this one was for her, she was entitled to this kill. Every blow she delivered brought the relief she was seeking, the satisfaction she was more than entitled to, that she deserved. When she was certain that Pete was dead she didn't raise the crossbow again, but she stood over him and looked, catching her breath. Slumped over and his face unrecognisable he lay completely still, casting no doubt in her mind that he was dead.
She stepped back and admired her handiwork from afar, looking at the blood on the walls before glancing down at herself. The beautiful dress she had worn for Rick was covered in blood, she could taste it in her mouth, she could feel it on her face. She looked down at Daryl's crossbow she still held in her left hand, watching as blood dripped to the floor below it. The only thing she could comprehend was the fact she had broken it, a piece of metal dangling from one of the long broken wires. Feeling as though she'd desecrated a Bible she tentatively lowered it to the floor and put it down, pausing for a few moments as she looked at Pete's body a little longer. He was still motionless, finally no longer a threat to Rick's family.
There was a flood of warmth across her lips, and the taste of blood intensified as she realised her nose was bleeding. It took a moment for her to react, and it was with a shuddering breath that she raised her hand to her face and tried to stem the flow, feeling it trickling over her hands and down her arms. It was this sensation that snapped her back to the reality of what was happening, the trickle reminding her of the way the blood trailed down Carl's cheek, the expression of surprise on his face as he collapsed. As if realising for the first time that he had actually been shot Carrie gave a low cry of horror, the sound tearing at her throat as she turned and looked past Daryl. Carl's blood was all over the floor, bloody hand and foot prints smeared all around.
She looked up at Daryl and tried to speak, to ask if Carl was okay even though he knew little more than she did, but the words wouldn't come. Instead it was a garbled whine that came out of her mouth, an indistinguishable plea for him to make things all right, for him to do something, anything. But like she had expected he seemed to give no reaction, his mouth twisted into an anguished grimace as he looked between the blood on the floor and Pete's corpse, wondering how this had happened under his watch, while he was only three houses away. The two of them stood there motionless, trying to comprehend it all.
Moments later they were surrounded, panicked questions and people filling the previously silent garage. Carrie stood motionless as a blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, and it took firm instructions from Carol to make her pay attention to what was happening. Unwilling to waste time, Carol's instructions were abrupt and clear, and she gave Carrie a gentle shake to awaken her, to make her listen. She complied, glancing over her shoulder at Pete's corpse before shakily following Carol out of the garage. The influx of people and activity was overwhelming, forcing Carrie to lower her eyes as she let Carol lead her wherever they were going.
"Sit down," Carol said firmly.
Feeling gentle pressure on her upper arms Carrie did as she was told, turning around and then sinking onto the staircase. She shivered despite the warmth of the blanket around her shoulders, feeling like she couldn't get enough air from the small gasps she was taking in. Trying to keep herself together she looked past all the worried onlookers and looked at the front door, desperate for someone to arrive and tell her that Carl was okay, that it looked worse than it was. But no one appeared, no one could offer this comfort because he wasn't okay. He was dying…Carl was going to die.
"Carrie, look at me," Carol said abruptly, taking her upper arms and squeezing them. "Look at me…now hold your breath."
She tried to speak, to explain that she couldn't, but the pain in her neck and throat had returned. "I ca…" she managed to croak.
"Yes, you can. Hold your breath," she insisted, moving face to face until she did. "Hold it…longer."
It took everything she had to do as Carol asked, her body hungering for air she was now denying it, but she held her breath and then slowly released it with Carol's encouragement. With the release came a sense of calm, Carrie slowly beginning to feel like she was back in control of her body, that it was no longer under attack. She inhaled slowly and gently, but even as she felt her head clearing and her panic easing the discomfort in her throat remained, taunting her. She tried to raise her hands and touch her neck, needing to relieve the pain, but Carol stopped her and batted her hands away.
"Good. Keep breathing slowly, just like that," Carol encouraged, pulling back and giving her a little more space. Readjusting the blanket around Carrie's shoulders she turned away and said something to one of the concerned onlookers.
Trying to control herself from the desperate need to get up and run to the Infirmary where Carl was, she closed her eyes and breathed, grateful when someone sat beside her and took her hand in theirs. For a moment she allowed herself a brief fantasy, imagining that it was Rick beside her, that it was him holding her hand. But she knew it wasn't, she knew that his place right now was not beside her, and so she wasn't disappointed when she opened her eyes and found Daryl. The hand that held hers was shaking, his expression distraught and his face turned away to hide his fear.
"Hold this against your nose," Carol said, wrapping an ice pack in a hand towel and passing it to her. "Daryl? Hold this one against her leg, right here."
Carrie did as she was told and held the towel to her face, stemming the blood flow while Daryl slipped his hands under the blanket. Doing as Carol instructed he pressed the ice pack against her inner thigh, the motion making her flinch in pain. She could still feel Pete kneeling on top of her, using his knees to hold her legs down while his hands assaulted her, and when Carter suddenly appeared by her other side the sudden influx of people became overwhelming. She trembled as she dissolved into a flood of tears, unable to hold them at bay any longer. Trying to breathe through the uncomfortable whimpers that scratched her throat she looked at the front door, waiting someone to come through it and tell her that Carl was alright, that he wasn't dead. But like before the only thing she could see there were the horrified onlookers, Glenn and Eugene out on the front porch telling people to go away, to give them some privacy. She could hear Jessie somewhere outside, probably having received the news that her husband was dead. Still she kept waiting, willing someone to come and tell her that Carl was going to be alright.
A sharp pain in her right hand made her gasp out loud, Carter giving a hasty apology as she brought it to her chest. She looked up at him in confusion, slowly realising why he was there beside her. In his hands he held pruning shears, and when she looked down at her arm she made the connection when she saw her plaster cast. Jessie's beautiful artwork was ruined not only by the blood, but by the hasty attempt to cut the plaster off her arm, to relieve the pressure and swelling Carrie hadn't yet noticed. She looked at it in horror, unable to stomach the sight of the painted owls. Carter had cut straight through their faces, and the spattering of red made it look like they were bleeding, that he had hurt them.
"We have to get this cast off you," Carol said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.
She took Carrie's arm and then moved it back to where it had been resting in Carter's lap, and she prompted him to get back to work. With another apology he continued, hacking away at the cast and taking care to not cut her with the sheers. Piece by piece the plaster cast fell apart, and a minute later it was gone completely, the broken remnants scattered over the stairs. Carrie took a deep breath and looked away from it, turning her attention back to the front door yet again. Still no one was there, no one was bringing her the news she needed to hear. She heard someone calling for Tobin, telling him to get to the Infirmary immediately.
"Carrie, listen to me," Carol began, her tone softening now the urgency of the situation had eased. "You can't help him now. He's with Denise, there's nothing else we can do. We just have to wait."
Of course Carol would know what she was thinking, what it was that was making her want to fall to her knees and scream. She nodded to indicate that she had heard, but Carol's words had no reassuring effect, they were of little help. Shuddering for breath she tried to speak, to explain what had happened and justify her actions. They had to know that she'd tried to help him, that she'd tried to get him out of there. Why couldn't he just leave her? Why couldn't he just do as he was told?Carol had to know that she'd done everything she could. She had to tell Rick that she'd done everything she could.
"He wouldn't leave me," she finally managed to say, her hoarse voice sounding as though it didn't belong to her. Every word grated at her throat, the discomfort worsening, but she continued. Carol had to know. "I tried to-"
"I know," she said reassuringly.
"I tried to help him," she moaned, picturing Carl laying motionless on the garage floor, bleeding from the face. "But Pete, he - he just…Pete…"
She trailed off as Daryl stood up abruptly, the ice pack he held against her leg falling to the floor as he brushed past Carol and left. Not looking back he marched out the front door, loudly swearing at Aaron who tried to follow him. Carrie had no doubt about where he was going, and it wasn't to the Infirmary. Daryl was going for the walls, escaping the hell he'd walked into. As she watched him go Carrie dissolved into tears again, wishing that she could follow him, that she too could escape reality by running away. Knowing it was best to just let him go Carol stayed by her side, picking up the abandoned ice pack and returning it to the inside of her thigh.
"You killed him, didn't you," Carol stated.
When Carrie looked at her again she was surprised to see the small smile playing on her lips, her expression almost making her look proud. Perhaps she was. As she summoned the breath to answer her question Carrie turned to her left and looked towards the garage, picturing the scene in her mind's eye, remembering the patterns of blood on the walls and ceiling, remembering the way the crossbow shuddered every time it connected with Pete's head.
"Yes," she stated clearly, taking another deep breath. "I killed him."
There was a long pause, Carrie waiting with bated breath for Carol's final reaction. No one would ever hold Pete's death against her, not after what he had just done to her and Carl, her actions were entirely justified. But she knew that Carol's reaction would set the precedent for how this situation was handled at a family level, how the death would be managed going forward.
Carol smiled, taking Carrie's hand and giving it a squeeze. "Good."
A/N Phew, so glad that chapter is over now! I hope you guys enjoyed how I twisted the Season 5 and 6 story lines of Pete and Carl into one, and that you enjoyed the chapter just as much as I enjoyed writing it! The events of this chapter are huge and impactful for the characters, and in small ways set into motion the story lines and characters of the next story (which is of course a sequel!). Please review, thanks!
