Chapter Fifty-Three
"Where's Dad going?" Sophia questioned her mother around a yawn as she sat up and reached for the pack Daryl had put next to the bed.
Carol smiled up at her daughter and took the water bottle Sophia offered. "He's just going to the bathroom … and probably to find out where Rick went. You don't have to get up yet," she said, glancing down at her watch. "It's just after three."
The girl frowned. She didn't like this place. It smelled funny, like mildew, sweet and sickly. And she didn't care too much for the people who had hurt her father and taken him captive, in spite of what her mother said. Just because Carol had been right about Randall, didn't mean Sophia was ready to trust them. She wanted to go back to the colonial and be with her own people. Reaching into the pack, she pulled her mother's handguns from within and set them on the mattress between them. "Thought you might want those back," she grinned. "You know Daddy doesn't like you to take them off."
"How –"
"Rick brought them back when he went to the truck and you weren't there," she explained. She fidgeted with the strap on her pack, averting her gaze. "Was Dad very mad when you were taken, too?"
Carol groaned inwardly, seeing the anguish on her daughter's face. "Of course, he was. He doesn't approve when I put myself in danger." She sat up next to the girl, studying her closely. "Sophia … you don't think Daryl would hurt me, do you?" The last thing she wanted was for her to fear him. Sophia shook her head, but still wouldn't meet her eyes. "He's not Ed."
Sophia rolled her eyes. "I know he's not, Mama. I trust him, but sometimes I remember how Ed was with you and I remember … I know Daddy would never hurt you."
Carol pulled her daughter into her arms and smoothed a hand over her hair. Ed had left her so damaged, and it broke Carol's heart. She was confident Sophia didn't fear Daryl, or ever think he would hurt either of them, but there were those memories she doubted the girl would ever forget how they'd suffered in the past. Times she'd hidden under her bed with her hands over her ears, so she wouldn't have to hear her mother's screams. Other times when she'd seek refuge with one of the neighbors because Carol had shoved her out of the kitchen door to avoid her father's wrath. It was too much for her young mind to handle, and it made Carol want to kill the bastard all over again. "I know, baby."
Sophia buried her face against her mother's shoulder, seeking warmth and comfort only Carol could give her. "I was so scared … when those men took him. I don't want to lose him, Mama. We just found him, and now I have a Daddy who loves me. You have a husband who cares for you instead of one who hurts you. I don't want it to be like before."
"Don't cry, Sophia. Daryl isn't going to be taken from us."
"You don't know that!" the girl cried, the sound muffled against her mother's dark shirt.
Carol sighed as she comforted her baby girl. "No, I don't, and I won't make any promises, but I do know he would never willingly leave us. He will fight with his last breath to keep us safe. But, Sophia … it will never be as it was before. That I can promise you. We're different … better … now. We're strong and will never allow someone like Ed to hurt us again."
"Because we're Dixons now, right? And Dixons are tough as nails. Merle says so."
Carol laughed softly and pressed a kiss to Sophia's brow. "And if Merle says so, it's gospel."
"Damn straight."
The moment was ruined, however, as Tori hurried into the room, her mouth set in a grim line. "We've got hostiles advancing on the back gate. You might want to take the children to the basement."
Carol checked her weapons and slid the holsters onto her belt as Sophia scrambled off her lap to wake Carl and grab her bow. "How many?"
"We don't know yet. What are you doing?" the woman called after her as Carol herded the kids towards the front of the building to find Rick.
"We're going out there to help defend you and your people, Tori. I'm not going to hide in the basement while your men are out there fighting. It's not how we do things." Tori followed, sliding a clip into her semi-automatic rifle as they gained the courtyard and skirted around the building.
"The children –"
"Are really good shots," Carol said proudly. She left the leader of the new group behind, hurrying over to the gate where Rick had already taken up a defensive stance. "Carl, Sophia … up on the wall, behind the lights." She pointed to where the old gas lamps were positioned atop brick pedestals. "Use them for cover."
She joined rick at the wrought iron gate, surprised to find the lock broken. "Our people are out there," he hissed, pointing to the west where Glenn and Maggie had joined the fray and sent a steady spray of gunfire at the rogues.
"Daryl?"
He pointed northeast to the last place he'd spotted the hunter. "He's with Shane. They're working their way over. We've got ten to fifteen unknowns out there."
"This is going to draw every walker within five miles!" she shouted over the noise, taking aim as Rick backed away to reload. At least with the silencer on the .45, she wouldn't be blamed. Carol gaped as more men came out of the woods, firing on the hostiles. She grabbed Rick's arm to get his attention. "Look! There's more, but they're shooting at them, too! What the hell is going on? Are they trying to take the facility too?"
A slow grin of surprise formed on his mouth. Maggie and Glenn burst through the gate, and they were smiling, too, despite the battle waging around them. "Merle's out there with his people!" Glenn shouted triumphantly.
Rick ducked as a stray bullet whizzed past his ear. He could see Daryl and Shane, now joined by T-Dog barreling towards the wall. "Everyone, back up … give them room to get through. Carol –"
Maggie screamed. Carol glanced down at the blood seeping through her fingertips, the stray bullet having ripped through her jacket to pierce her side. She could hear the sound of gunfire, the anguished pleas of her friends, and the mournful wail of her husband as he neared the gate at a run. She fell back into Rick's arms as Maggie called for help to get her inside, her daughter's sweet face twisted into a grimace, Sophia's hysterical cry for her to be ok, tears dripping from the girl's eyes … before everything went black.
*.*.*
The barrel of the Mossberg was still emitting a faint curl of smoke as Shane lowered it, his stunned gaze focused on his best friend barking orders to get Carol inside. Merle had both of his arms locked around Daryl's torso whispering urgently to him as the hunter fought to break his hold. He couldn't … no, not … they couldn't lose Carol, the former deputy thought. Marty's hand landed on his forearm, pulling him towards the back gate and leaving the Dixon brothers to get a handle on their emotions.
"Fuckin' lemme go, Merle! I have t' go t' her, damnit … she's m' wife … my … my …" Daryl's voice broke, briefly slumping against his brother's solid form.
Merle tightened his grip and rested his chin on Daryl's shoulder. "Stop it! Stop fuckin' fightin' me when I ain't yer enemy, little brother. Now pull yer head outta yer ass and calm th' fuck down."
"I need t' go t' her, Merle!"
"Y' need t' get yer shit together!" the elder Dixon growled, giving his brother a shake which rattled Daryl's teeth. "Y' think she needs t' see y' fall apart? Y' think Peach needs t' see her daddy losin' it? Carol's one o' th' toughest women I know. She had t' be, married t' that piece o' shit fer all them years." He huffed a sigh of relief as Daryl began to relax, taking his advice to heart. "That's it. Deep breaths."
Merle dropped his arms and let his brother go, following swiftly as Daryl sprinted across the rough terrain to reach the gate. He prayed the whole way that whatever wound his sister-in-law had suffered, it wasn't serious. He didn't think Daryl would be able to handle losing his wife. He winced as he reached the back courtyard beyond the wall to find the chaos within. One of the marines had been hurt, his leg a bloody mess. He was being carried to the infirmary, a red-haired little harridan following, shouting instructions over the boy's screams. Maggie and Marty were directing Rick – who had Carol cradled carefully in his arms – to follow the others so they could look over Carol's injuries. Daryl had Sophia wrapped around him, her face buried in his neck as she wailed for her mother. He'd never seen the girl look so broken.
He shifted his pack on his shoulders and let them lead the way, knowing he had new people to meet and a lot of explaining to do.
*.*.*
Sophia was nearly choking him as she clung tightly to his neck. It reminded him of when he'd found her that day in the gorge and brought her home to Carol. She was deathly afraid – not a state he was used to seeing his daughter in – her little form trembling as he raced down the stairs with her to the infirmary where Rick was leading them. He hadn't paid much attention when he'd been there before, focused more on the little auburn-haired nurse and the pain pounding away in his skull. Now he could see it must've been a storage room when the spa had been open for business. There were no windows, only a few shelving units which could have been easily dragged down there to store their medical supplies. Four long tables were spaced evenly throughout to serve as gurneys, and he didn't hesitate to move to the one where his wife had been laid out.
"D-Daddy … don't let M-Mama die. We need h-her," his girl sobbed.
He was never so thankful to see his brother as Merle strode to his side to take Sophia into his care. "C'mon, Peach, y' know yer daddy ain't gonna let nothin' happen to yer mama." She cried harder when she saw him, and let him lift her up onto a gurney and out of the way.
Daryl shuddered when he looked down at Carol, her face pale and waxen, a sharp contrast to her blood-covered hands. Maggie and Marty tried to get him to move, but he ignored them both. His head was swimming with adrenaline, and the young marine's cries of pain weren't helping any. "How is she?" the nurse called from where she was examining Rory's leg.
The hunter helped Rick pull Carol's heavy leather jacket off her, so the women could assess her wound. He could feel the tightness behind his breastbone as he took in the blood soaking her shirt.
"Breathe, Dixon!" Marty snapped when she looked up and got a glimpse of his face and the panic written there. "She's gonna be fine. She ain't th' first I've ever had to stitch up."
"This ain't Merle or your daddy either, Marty!" he snapped.
Martine rolled her eyes and ripped the front of Carol's shirt open, buttons flying. The shirt was beyond repair anyway, so she didn't see it as a loss. The tank was next to go, and she was staring at a small hole in Carol's side. Daryl couldn't help but notice it was almost in the same spot as he'd taken the bolt. Just above her left hip.
Maggie went to the shelving unit and gathered supplies. Alcohol, sterile gauze, a suture kit – which they were lucky to have – and a pair of hemostats. She brought them back to the woman and laid them on the small metal tray at Marty's elbow. "It doesn't look too bad," Maggie commented, shooting Daryl a reassuring smile.
"She's fuckin' bleedin' out, Maggie! Don't tell me it don't look bad!" he roared. Rick laid a calming hand on his shoulder, but Daryl shook him off. "And where th' fuck were you?! You shoulda been there t' protect her!"
"I was there! In case you missed it, we were under fire, Daryl. It was crazy," Rick mumbled in his own defense. "She was right there with me the whole time."
Marty's eyes flashed hotly as she scowled at them. "Knock it off, you two! Don't make me have Merle make y' leave. Maggie, hand me that alcohol so we can disinfect. Daryl, if y' can calm down, I need y' t' hold her … you, too, Rick. Keep her still 'cause this is gonna sting like a bitch."
Carol twitched as the alcohol came in contact with her wound, but she didn't wake. "Why ain't she waking up?" Daryl barked, smoothing the hair away from her brow.
"Could be she passed out from the pain, or she could be in shock. Either way, we got this," Marty said confidently.
"Can't y' give 'er somethin' for th' pain?"
"Don't wanna risk it," Marty shook her head. "Doctor S – he's our guy at Woodbury – said morphine can cause respiratory distress, 'specially if she's unconscious, an' I don't know nothin' about intubation. Just hold onto her an' we'll give her an oral when I'm done."
Jamie came over to check on them. "Sprite wants t' know how she's doin'."
"She got shot, y' ass. How th' hell y' think she's doin'?" the hunter spat.
Maggie wedged herself between the two. "How's your man over there?" she inquired, using some of the gauze pads to wipe away the blood as Martine poured alcohol directly into the hole in Carol's side.
The sergeant looked over his shoulder to where the nurse was working on Rory. "Took a bullet to his right thigh. Just missed the femoral artery, so it's not too bad. Didn't help when he fell off the roof though. Sprite should be able to get him patched up. She's good at what she does. Looks like you all know a bit of medical too."
"My dad was a vet before this all happened. Our people learn real quick," she said proudly.
"How's she doin', Sugar?" Merle asked from where he paced next to the gurney where Sophia sat still as a statue.
"She's ok, Merle," Marty mumbled, probing the wound with the hemostats. "Bullet didn't go in as far as I thought. Musta been slowed down by th' leather of her jacket."
"Daryl!" Carol hissed, her eyes fluttering as her body jerked.
He pressed a hand to the center of her chest, pushing her back down as she tried to rise. Rick had a hold of her left shoulder, so it wasn't likely she was going to fight them both off. "Hey, it's a'right. I'm here. Need y' t' be still so Marty can get y' fixed up."
The breath whooshed out of her as the hemostats dug deeper into her flesh. "It hurts!" she gasped.
"I know, baby … just try t' be still," he muttered, smoothing a hand over her hair.
"Am I dying?" she asked, reaching up to brush her fingertips over his wet cheeks.
He shook his head furiously. "Hell no! Think I'd let y' leave us? You're gonna be fine."
Rick breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the bullet plink into the little metal bowl Maggie held out to Martine. He swung his head around and shot a smile at Sophia. "Bullet's out, Sophia. Mama's gonna be ok. C'mon over here."
Marty grinned at the girl as Sophia squeezed in between Rick and the gurney. "Just need to stitch her up, Peach."
Sophia laid her head down next to her mother's. "You really going to be ok, Mama? You scared me."
"I'll be right as rain in no time, baby," Carol breathed weakly. She shivered, and Daryl slipped out of his jacket, laying it over her chest. She'd been stripped down to her bra, so naturally she was cold.
Carl bounded into the room just as Maggie was affixing a bandage to Carol's side. Abraham, Rosita and Tara followed, and Merle hopped off the gurney to address his people. "Y' got th' lot o' them bastards cleared out?"
Rick took the opportunity to meet them. "Rick Grimes," he said, holding out his hand to shake the ginger's. "Wish we were meeting under better circumstances."
"Heard a lot about you from Merle here. Can't say it's all good."
Merle rolled his eyes. Rosita cocked out her hip and looked around at the activity in the room. "Two injuries? Not bad for a night's work."
"You got any idea who that group was or what they wanted?" Rick inquired, bracing his hands on his hips, his face screwed up in a puzzled frown.
The elder Dixon rubbed at the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable.
"You didn't tell him?" Tara asked, shooting him a disapproving glance.
"Tell me what?" Rick asked, looking between the girl and Daryl's brother.
"An' when th' hell did I have time, girlie?" He fidgeted with the cuff on his arm as he looked over to the former deputy. "Those men belonged t' th' governor. Wanted me t' take 'em on this run, stretch their legs as it were."
Daryl's head shot up as he swung around to glare at Merle. "Y' miserable simple-minded piece o' shit! Y' thought y' could get rid o' those men because they wouldn't toe your line? That it? Carol got SHOT, Merle!"
"It weren't like that, Darylina –"
Abraham guffawed loudly, his shoulders shaking. "Oh, I think it was exactly like that."
"You stow it, Abe!" Merle growled. He turned just in time for Daryl's fist to catch him in the jaw. "Damnit!" he grunted as he hit the floor.
"Get up!" his brother hissed, his fists clenching and unfurling at his sides.
Carol groaned as she tried to sit up, but Maggie pushed her back down. "Daryl, stop!" she managed to get out before Marty shoved two pills into her open mouth.
"Y' coulda died, woman!"
She swallowed the pills, chasing them with half a bottle of cool water. "But I didn't."
"How was I supposed t' know y'all would even be here?! Not like they were a loss," he said in his defense. "Bunch o' rapists and murderers the governor took in. Thought they'd make good soldiers. Every time I looked at that bastard, Wayne, all I could think of was him comin' up on Peach unawares. Y' know I couldn't let that stand, little brother."
Daryl understood the code his brother lived by because he shared it. You don't lay hands on women and children. It's one of the reasons Daryl was so drawn to Carol in the beginning, wanting to be her friend. He could see what she was going through and he'd been determined to help and offer her a way out. It had only been a matter of time before Ed turned his abusive proclivities in his daughter's direction. "What th' hell y' gonna tell your fearless leader?" he asked with a snort.
Rosita snickered. "Walker's got 'em."
Merle waved them out of the room with orders to make sure none of the fallen would turn and to dispose of the bodies before turning back to his brother and Rick. "Look, me … my people … we ain't murderers. We don't take joy in killin'. Daryl, y' know me, brother. But if we hadn't, imagine how many they coulda hurt."
Rick shook his head. "No one's accusing you, Merle. What you did … man, you probably saved this group from slaughter. And they're our people; you did us a service. Again."
"Y' got room for more where you're holed up?"
"We'll make room."
*.*.*
Carol woke to Marty's light touch on her shoulder, comforted to have a friend near. "Hey," the brash young woman grinned. "Have a nice nap?"
"How long was I out?" Carol asked, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of her husband and daughter. "Daryl?"
"Couple hours," Marty said, helping Carol into a sitting position. "Don't worry about Daryl. He's out there helpin' th' others get packed up for th' move. He was hoverin' somethin' awful, an' Merle chased him out so y' could rest. An' Peach is with th' cop's kid cleanin' weapons. We should be ready t' leave soon."
Carol nodded, happily accepting the navy blue button up Marty had retrieved from her pack along with a clean white tank. "Thanks, Marty … for taking care of me."
The girl shot her a cheeky grin as she helped her into her shirt. "Wasn't nothin'."
"Where'd you learn how to do that?"
Marty shrugged. "Oh, Sugar," she chuckled, "growin' up with my brothers – not t' mention m' daddy – I had t' learn real quick how t' patch 'em up. They didn't like hospitals, an' even if they did, we didn't have insurance t' cover 'em." Her smile was sad, but held so much love for her lost family. "Used t' help Daryl an' Merle, too, when they got into trouble. Fightin' an' brawlin' is second nature t' this lot."
Carol didn't miss the resigned look in the girl's eyes. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"How are you and Merle? It can't be easy living in the enemy camp, so to speak."
Marty huffed a wry laugh. "I love him, Carol. Didn't even realize how much until we went on th' run together after he got left in Atlanta. I'd follow that man anywhere. Just don't tell 'im that. Don't want him getting' th' big head."
Carol laughed. "Think it's a bit late for that." She reached out and squeezed Marty's hand. "I'm glad the two of you could find a small measure of happiness."
"We'll be a lot happier once we can get rid of Blake an' make Woodbury into a place we can be proud of. T' say Merle's gettin' impatient is a gross understatement, an' it scares me because it's eventually gonna make 'im reckless." She shook her head. "I mean … look at this latest stunt he pulled."
"You ever think of just leaving Woodbury and joining us?" Carol asked, worried for her extended family.
"Cain't. The governor wouldn't stop 'til he hunted us down. Merle knows too much about his shady dealings. Blake wouldn't want that t' get out. An' we'd never put th' group at risk."
Daryl cut their conversation short as he strode into the room, crossbow slung across his back. He moved to Carol's side and tilted her chin up, so he could have a good long look at her, but his words were for Marty. "How is she? An' don't bullshit me 'cause I'll know."
The girl snorted. "Honey, I could tell you clouds were made of cotton candy an' get y' t' believe me. But seriously, Daryl … she's ok. Jus' gonna take time for her t' heal. That nurse even said so."
He grunted in approval. "Merle said y'all ain't quite done in this area, so y' better go find out what he's plannin'."
"Knowin' him, it ain't nothin' good. Prob'ly wants t' see if more o' Blake's men are in th' area an' take 'em out. He don't like th' idea of those bastards anywhere near th' group," she said, sliding her arms into the sleeves of her jacket. She squeezed Carol's hand before she leveled a pointed glare at Daryl. "You take care of her."
"Same goes for you, Martine. Watch Merle's back."
Carol watched her go. "You know she will, Daryl."
"Yeah, I know, but Merle's hardheaded. Cain't always depend on him thinkin' straight." He handed over her jacket – now free of blood thanks to Sophia – and helped her into it.
She squeaked in surprise as he lifted her into his arms. "Daryl! I can walk, y'know."
"Pfft," he scoffed. "Y' got yourself shot not five hours ago, woman. Y' ain't walkin' nowhere for a while. Gonna get y' home an' put your ass t' bed so Hershel can have a look at y'."
Everything was packed up, the new members of their group divided into two pickup trucks along with their meager supplies. Shane was standing at the tailgate of the silver Dodge, waiting for them. Daryl hefted her up onto the bed of the truck and moved to press his back against the cab, pulling her into the vee of his legs so she could rest comfortably against his chest for the ride back to the colonial.
Shane closed the tailgate and hopped in to join them, yelling for Rick to get them underway. "Get us out of here before any more walkers show up," he called, tired from fighting off the dead which had been drawn from the firefight. He grinned at Carol as Rick pulled out onto the road to lead the small caravan home. "Bet this ain't what you expected when you got up yesterday morning."
"No, but I'm not complaining," she murmured, burrowing further into her husband. "We're alive, we're together, and today's a brand-new day."
"Little Miss Optimism," the former deputy chuckled.
Daryl dropped a kiss to his wife's brow and pulled a blanket up over her to keep her warm, shaking his head at Shane always looking at the bad instead of the good. Carol smiled and watched the scenery fly by, secure in the love of her family and hopeful for what was to come.
A/n: Next time: Daryl hovers, a council meeting is called to merge the two groups, and there's talk of finding a bigger place for them all.
