XX: 2:17

~Daryl~

I sigh softly, leaning back in the chair I've been sitting in for the past four hours. I get to my feet, pacing the small room once more. I glare up at the lights as they flicker yet again, glancing at the time: 2:17. "Damn, I thought it was later," I mutter to myself.

Well, not to myself. But it might as well be.

I turn back to the bed, sadly watching the pale face of the raven-haired sixteen year old that's been in the coma for the past year. Slowly, her chest rises and falls, the machine next to her beeping with her heartbeat. I walk back over, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"I…" I begin, then take a breath. "I never told you, did I? That day, the one before we left to go hunting on that mountain with Will and Jess. I was going to tell you we were finally going to be okay. We were going to get out of that place. I was going to get you out of that place. You could be okay. I could be okay. Then I found you… passed out. Bloody. Beaten. You weren't even breathing. And now we're here. You know, they said you should've died. It's a miracle that you're alive. But is it really? When nothing's changed since that day? When I'm talking to you, but you can't even hear me?" I look away, shaking my head. "I might as well be talking to a hospital bed."

"Daryl," Carol says softly from the doorway. She's been working in the hospital for years, and she watched over Clary when I wasn't here. "It's almost time. Are you sure you want to be here for it?"

"I have to," I say. "She's my baby sister. I can't let her die alone. Not when she'll die because I wasn't there to stop him in the first place."

Carol bows her head, murmuring, "Of course. And Daryl—you can't beat yourself up over it. That bastard did this to her, not you."

Carol leaves the room, allowing me to have just a few minutes more. I don't want to do it. I don't want to lose her, but I think she's already gone. I've known that she's been gone since before the doctor, Negan, mentioned pulling her plug. If she's still suffering, I can't force her to keep going through that. Even if it means losing her forever.

I brush her hair behind her ear, leaning forward and pressing my lips to her forehead. "C'mon, kid, wake up," I whisper. "You got people out here. People that care, people that are waiting to meet you. Please. Please, sweetheart, I need a miracle. I need you to wake up. I don't know how to carry on. I can't do this without you."

I feel eyelashes on my cheek, and I freeze when I hear a whispered, "Daryl?"

I slowly pull back, looking down at the grey eyes I haven't seen open in a year. "Oh my god," I say, sobs that I can't stop racking my body. "Clary."

"Daryl," Clary whimpers. I take her in my arms, holding her close, but I think Clary's holding on even tighter than I am, if it's possible. She's shaking, crying as she buries her face in my shoulder. "Daryl, I love you. I'm sorry. I love you."

"You don't have anything to apologize for, sweetheart," I assure her, wiping her tears when she pulls back to look at me.

She questions, "Daryl, what happened?"

"It was Will," I whisper, pressing my forehead against hers. "They got him, sweetheart. The police, they arrested him. He died in prison a while ago."

"What?" Clary questions, eyes widening. "Will died in prison?"

"He's dead, sweetheart. You're free. We're free. We can be okay. We're gonna be okay."

"No, no, that can't be right," Clary says, shaking her head as I sit back. "Will couldn't've been in prison."

"He was, sweetheart," I tell her.

"No, no, that ain't right. The hunting trip, he died. Walkers, Jess shot him."

"Walkers?" I question. "And Jess? Jess, he didn't shoot nobody. Well, actually, he shot a cop when they went to arrest Will, got himself killed."

"No, I swear, it was real," Clary says, shaking her head once more. "You were there. You saw it. You saved me when Uncle Jess turned."

"Clary, honey, I think you dreamt it," I tell her. "I don't know what the hell these 'walkers' you're talkin' 'bout are, I don't know nothin' 'bout Jess 'turning.'"

"What? No, no, it had to be real. I got the scars to prove it. Look!" She pulls aside the gown by her right shoulder, showing bare, unmarred skin. Her face changes to one of confusion when she stares at her shoulder. "What? No, D shot me there. Dwight shot me."

"Whoa, whoa, hold on," I rush. "Dwight? How the hell do you know Dwight? I only just met him when I took my bike to the garage. You weren't even awake."

"He's a Savior."

"Yeah, he works at Saviors Auto."

"Daryl, give me your arm," Clary commands. I offer my left arm to her, and she rolls up my sleeve, staring at the inside of my forearm. "No veritas." Clary drops my arm, looking up at me. "My whole life has just been flipped, spun around, and flipped again. Everything that I thought I knew, everything that happened to me, it wasn't real." Clary squeezes her eyes shut, lying back on the pillow. "Holy shit, Darry."

I shake my head at Clary, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Christ, kid, you really know how to make an entrance. I'll be right back, okay?"

I start to get up, but Clary grasps my wrist. "Don't leave me, Darry."

"I'm just going to the door, alright?" Clary nods, releasing my wrist. I walk over to the door, leaning out. "Carol. She's awake."

Carol gasps, her hands covering her mouth. I step back to allow her inside, and Clary's eyes widen as she takes in Carol, looking as though she's seen a ghost. I still haven't stopped grinning, and Carol looks over at me, a smile gracing her features. "You did it," she says softly. "You really did."

"I just needed her back," I reply. "She knew."

"Huh," Carol says. "You should smile more often, pookie."

I scoff, shaking my head at her. "Stop."

"You're here," Clary suddenly says, still staring at Carol. "Last I saw you, you were helping Ezekiel with the Fair."

"Ezekiel?" Carol questions. "I don't know who that is, but… last I saw you… awake… you had walked Sophia home."

"Carol," I say, resting my hand on her arm. I gesture for her with my head, and we turn away from Clary, speaking in hushed voices. "Is it… normal for people that come out of comas to be confused?"

"Oh, it's very common," Carol answers. "For some, waking up in a hospital's confusing. Others dream while they're in comas. It's a reality shock whenever they realize what's actually going on."

"Clary's been trying to distinguish reality from whatever she dreamt while she was in a coma," I explain.

Carol walks over, checking Clary's vitals. "How long has she been awake?"

I glance back towards the clock, only to find that it had stopped at 2:17. "Clock stopped," I note. "But it hasn't been long. Maybe five minutes?"

Carol nods. "Can you give us a few minutes?" she requests.

"Of course," I say. "I need to make some calls, anyway."

I get up, grabbing my phone and exiting Clary's hospital room. I close the door behind me, walking down the hall to the waiting room to make calls in private. I start to dial a number, but lower my phone as I watch security escorting a stone-faced Negan down the hall. I turn to one of the nurses watching, a young blonde fresh out of college. "What's going on?"

"They just fired him," Alden answers. "There's been whispers of it happening ever since that malpractice suit with a burn victim. And the other nurses, they have this rumor that he's been going crazy ever since his wife died last year. I always thought that part was just a rumor, I guess 'cause I didn't know him before Lucille died. But maybe he was going crazy. He would've let that girl die."

I swallow, fearing the answer. "What girl?"

He looks over at me, recognizing me now. "Siddiq—er, Dr. Nash—just saw that your sister's been showing a few signs of waking up the past week, but Negan had you consent to let her go anyway. He went straight to the chief physician, got Negan fired. He just saved Clary's life."

"Negan was the only one that knew she might wake up?"

"Yeah, and he did that anyway. What an asshole."

"Good riddance," I growl, and Alden nods his agreement. I step back into the empty waiting room as I dial the first number I think to call. I raise my phone to my ear, closing my eyes as I wait. When my call to the Georgia State Penitentiary is finally answered, I say, "Uh, hi, my name is Daryl Dixon. Can I speak to—"

"I'm already putting you through, Daryl," Jacqui, the receptionist, says. "It'll just be a few moments."

A few minutes later, the hold music ends and a gruff voice says, "I hope you're calling to give me actual news."

"Merle," I say, "she's awake."

~Clary~

Daryl still wasn't back when Carol left, having determined that I was all good even after being in a coma for a year. Siddiq, still a doctor in this world, popped in, saying that he wanted to keep me another day at least for observation, just in case. A year in an inexplicable coma, he said, could have some side effects.

A year, I think. I had survived in the apocalypse for twelve. My current guess is that every year in there was a month out here. I get up, ignoring my growling stomach as I make my way over to the window. I push the curtains aside, allowing the sunlight in. Outside, I'm greeted with cars on the nearby freeway, pedestrians walking on the sidewalks in town. Living pedestrians. "Holy shit," I breathe. "The world hasn't ended."

I don't look as the door opens, assuming it's either another nurse or Daryl. "Hey, sorry I took so long," Daryl apologizes. "I ran across the street to a store to get you this." I turn as he offers me a journal. "I, uh, I talked to Carol. She said that maybe you should write down what you remember from your coma dream."

"I hope you bought more than just the one," I deadpan, taking the journal and going to sit back in my bed. I pull the table over, taking the pen Daryl offers. I make notes, as writing the whole thing out would take too long. "'Cause a lotta shit happened."

"Well, uh, start at the beginning, I guess," Daryl suggests. "I'm gonna run and get you some clothes, okay? There's some people coming tomorrow that you need to meet."

"Oh yeah?" I question, glancing up from the page as I finish the section on Will's death. "Who?"

"Your, um, your social worker," Daryl says. "He's a really nice guy. He cares about you a lot, actually. We've been talking over some things lately, but you don't need to worry about it right now. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

"Be back soon," I request.

"You got it." Daryl pauses by the door. "And I'll bring you some more journals."

I chuckle, shaking my head at him. "Get outta here."

I have never been so happy to change into actual clothes when Daryl returns that I don't even wait for him to leave to change. "Damn, okay, I'll just look away then," Daryl deadpans.

"Sorry," I tell him, pulling on a shirt. "Just couldn't stand to be in that damn gown anymore."

"It's cool," Daryl says, giving me a thumbs up.

"Okay, you're good," I tell him as I finish pulling on my pants. I'm so proud of him; Daryl brought my favorite sweatpants and one of my Metallica shirts.

"So… I'm gonna order food," Daryl tells me. "You want anything?"

"Can you even do that in a hospital?" I question, taking the menu for the nearby pizza place he offers.

"Well, shit, I sure hope so. It's not like I haven't been doing just that for a year."

"Hey, that was a valid question," I reply. "Stop being mean to me."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Daryl apologizes, kissing my forehead. "I'm just so glad you're back."

"Me, too," I tell him. "Alright. I'm feeling a regular cheese pizza. Simple and basic, yet delicious."

"And without pineapple on," Daryl approves.

"Why do you hate pineapple on pizza so much?" I question. "Hawaiian pizzas are awesome!"

"Fruits do not belong on pizzas!"

"Then explain tomatoes," I retort. "They're a fruit."

"Tomatoes are not a fruit. Fruit does not belong on pizza."

"Whatever," I sigh, fighting a losing battle. "Just order us some damn pizza."

Daryl smirks, placing the call before taking a seat at the end of the bed. "You been writing?" Daryl questions, and I nod. "How far did you get?"

"The farm," I answer. "When…" I trail off, unable to tell my brother that I dreamt he killed someone, even out of mercy. I haven't seen him this happy since before Rick died, and I can't do that to him, tell him things that'll weigh on him in this world. "When we lost Dale. Nearly two months into it."

"Will you tell me?"

"Maybe you should just read it," I tell him. "There, that page is the beginning. The hunting trip, Will, Jess. Sam."

"Oh, I talked to Sam on my way here. He said he'd drop in soon. He's been here just about as much as I have."

Daryl takes the notebook I offer him, not noticing my look of surprise at Sam being alive. I guess it makes sense, everyone that I lost in there actually being alive out here since none of it ever happened.

Daryl reads through it, pausing a few minutes later. "I threw people off of rooftops? Damn, apocalypse me is a badass. Or a psycho serial killer. I haven't figured out which one yet."

"That time wasn't easy," I murmur. "But I had Glenn." I glance over at Daryl just to find him smirking. Then, he glances at his phone and chuckles. "What?"

"Nothing," he says. "Just three… two… one…"

Daryl points to the door just as it bursts open, a messy haired blue-eyed boy skidding to a halt inside. As soon as he sees me, he starts rambling, Spanish mixing with English mixing with tears. I slowly climb out of bed, shaking as I walk towards him. I take his face in my hands, and tears come to my eyes when I feel that he's real. "Sammy," I whisper. "Estoy aquí. Estoy aquí." I let out a shaky sigh, hugging him. "Estás vivo. Dios mío."

"Of course I'm alive," Sam whispers. "But you? Oh my god, Clary. Oh, I thought I lost you."

"I don't go down that easy," I tell him.

"Te amo," Sam whispers, pressing kisses to my cheek as he hugs me tighter. "Te amo. I love you and I never want to lose you."

"Te amo, Sammy," I reply. "I'm not goin' anywhere. Don't you worry." We pull back just far enough to look at each other. "How are you? How's Seb?"

"I'm so much better now," Sam tells me. "Seb, he's great, still in college. Finally decided on a major. You remember Alex?" I nod. "They're still together. Have been since… well, they were dating before your coma."

"How's Alex?"

"He's good," Sam answers, nodding. "Graduated with his Bachelor's back in May. He and Seb got an apartment together in Atlanta. They're moving back here once Seb graduates."

"No shit, really?" I ask. "C'mon, take a seat. Kemosabe over there ordered pizza."

"I forgot you called me that," Daryl says with a laugh, looking up from my journal for a moment.

Sam takes a seat in the chair by the hospital bed, and for the first time in what feels like twelve years to me, I sit in his lap again. It's what we used to do, piling together into one chair, even when there were other seats available. Most of the time it was Sam sitting on me, but we'd switch it up every now and then. Sam looks up at me as he questions, "Wait, isn't that from The Lone Ranger? And doesn't it mean 'wrong brother'?"

"It was an inside joke with Merle," I explain. "I meant to punch Merle one time, accidentally punched Daryl. When I realized I hit Daryl, I was like, 'I'm so sorry, wrong brother.' And Merle just starts dying because fate just so happens that we're watching Lone Ranger right at the kemosabe part, so Merle called Daryl 'kemosabe' and I've been calling him it since."

"Clary," Daryl suddenly whispers.

"Yeah?" I ask, turning to look at him only to find him staring down at the notebook. "Oh, wait, shit. I know where you are." I get up, kneeling in front of him. "Darry, hey, look at me. That didn't actually happen, and it won't happen, alright?"

"I don't want to lose you," Daryl murmurs.

"It's okay, Darry," I tell him. "You won't. You ain't ever gonna lose me. You ain't gonna get rid of me that easy. Here." I take his hand, pressing it over my heart. "You feel that? Feel my heartbeat? My heart's still beating."

I suddenly look away from Daryl at my echoing of Aaron's words, and he questions, "You alright?"

"No," I answer, shaking my head. "These, uh, these two guys, they took me in. They… they were my dads, and then I lost one in the war. But… we had this thing. 'Hearts still beating.' And now, I don't even know if they're real. But if they are, they don't know me. Not like they used to."

"We'll figure it out, I promise. You make a list of who you came in contact with, and we'll figure it out."

I nod, releasing his hand and getting to my feet as the pizza boy walks through the open door. "Wow, you got company, Daryl," Glenn says.

Glenn.

"Holy shit," I say, turning to face my brother. "Glenn."

"Oh, my god! You're awake!" Glenn exclaims. "Daryl told me all about you!"

"Oh, he's the Glenn," Daryl says, putting it together after glancing at the journal.

"That's me," Glenn says, though he's clearly confused. "I'm the Glenn?"

"Just read this," I tell him, grabbing the journal and handing it to him after taking the pizza. "You'll understand."

So I watch as Glenn reads it, eyes widening as he gets to the part where he comes into the story. "Holy shit."

"Keep going, Short Round." And then, I freeze again. I hadn't spoken those words since that night we met Negan. "Short Round."

"Yeah, you seem to be fond of calling me that," Glenn says with a chuckle.

I suddenly wrap Glenn in a hug, telling him, "I missed you."

"Why so nervous?" Daryl questions, elbowing me as he glances down at me. "It'll be fine. I'm telling you, you're gonna like this guy."

"It's not that," I tell him. "It's just… I've been thinkin' 'bout the guys that took me in, that whole group. I mean, I've found a couple—Glenn, Carol, Alden, Siddiq. But the others... I gotta find 'em."

"We will," Daryl promises. A knock sounds on the door, and Daryl gets up. "That must be him."

He steps forward, opening the door. I get to my feet, turning to put the list of people I have to find down on the table with my journal as my social worker enters. "Clary, hi," he says, and I don't even have time to process his voice as I turn to shake his hand. "My name's Aaron Raleigh."

His hand grasps mine, and I freeze, staring up into his face. Into those familiar blue eyes, the curls and the beard, the gentle smile. The heart that's still beating. I glance down at our hands, finding a ring on his left. He never lost his arm. He married Eric, too. I look back up at him, and I can't help but smile because I found him.

"Hi," I say, blinking back tears. "I'm so glad to finally meet you."

"You alright?" Aaron questions, picking up on the thickness of my voice. "You seem a little shaken."

"I'm perfect," I tell him, and I can't stop smiling now. "You don't even know how perfect everything is."

"Alright, good," Aaron says, nodding. He drops my hand, putting his briefcase on the table as Daryl steps closer to me. He leans down, whispering, "You know him?"

I turn my head to look up at Daryl, whispering in reply, "He and Eric were the ones that took me in."

Daryl doesn't respond, instead wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. Daryl and I sit beside each other on the bed, facing Aaron, and he shares a look with Daryl before looking at me "So… we, uh, we should probably get to know each other a little first."

"No," I say. "I already know you, and I know Daryl told you about me."

"Alright, so we'll get right into it," Aaron says. "Clary, we've got a couple options here. I'm gonna throw this one out first, even though I know you'll object. Foster care."

"Not happening," I argue.

"Alright, didn't think so," Aaron says with a nod. "Option number two. Because Daryl is an adult, he can be your legal guardian. It'd just take some paperwork, and then you'd be living with him until you're at least eighteen." I nod, listening. "And option number three. Now, here's one that I normally wouldn't propose to someone your age. When people adopt, they go for younger kids. Once they're teenagers, the chances of getting adopted go down. Especially someone that'll be sixteen next month."

"So… basically, I only have one option," I say.

"Not necessarily," Aaron replies. "I… I know this is really sudden and it's a lot to spring on you, but I know of a couple that would be ready and willing to adopt you." I bite my lip, praying to any and every god that it's who I think it is. "I know we don't really know each other, aside from what Daryl has told us, but… oh, jeez, I don't know how to say this."

"Just spit it out."

"My husband and I are looking to adopt someone and I told him about you. But this is your choice, Clary."

It takes me a moment to process his words, and then I look to Daryl, questioning, "Is this what you meant when you said you two were talking things over?" Daryl nods, and I turn back to Aaron. "You up for a story?"

"Yeah, sure," Aaron says after a moment.

"While I was in my coma, I spent the entire time dreaming. But it wasn't a dream; it was a nightmare. The dead walked the earth, and I was part of a group of people that were brought into a place called Alexandria. We were brought in by these two guys, and Daryl made one of them promise that if anything happened, they were to take care of me. Fast forward three months, and something happens. We met this man called Negan, this asshole with a bat that killed two of our friends. And he took Daryl as his prisoner.

"So these two guys, they took me in. Just as Daryl made 'em promise. They were the people that I was closest to, aside from this guy named Paul, a kid in a cowboy hat, and a pretty blonde I called Point Break. And so we became this little family, up until we went to war with Negan. And I lost one of my dads. And Eric, he made me promise to stay alive for… for Aaron, damn any and every consequence. And now, you're asking me to come live with you, come be a part of your family?" Aaron nods. "Well, I only have one thing to say. Why the hell didn't you open with that?"

"Clary, this morning, what you said," Daryl says softly, chewing on his thumb as he sits in the chair next to my bed. "About the war. And that man."

"Negan," I say, glancing up from where I pack my clothes and the notebooks Daryl got me into a bag.

"He's real," Daryl whispers.

I freeze. "What did you just say?"

"Negan… he's real. He's this asshole doctor that got transferred here about two months after Will beat you. He tried to talk me into pulling your plug." Daryl bows his head. "I… I gave in, 'cause I couldn't let you suffer anymore. That was the same day you woke up."

"He still work here?" I question, sliding into the chair next to him.

"No," Daryl tells me, shaking his head. "They fired him for malpractice with a burn victim, and the whole thing with you, 'cause he knew there was still a chance you'd wake up."

I raise an eyebrow, unable to be surprised given Negan's history with irons. "But I… I don't get it. Why did Negan try to kill me? He protected me. He wanted me to join him. I mean, yeah, he threatened us, but he was never going to kill me. He even told me that himself—that he could never hurt me."

"Maybe he's not the Negan that you knew," Daryl offers. "I mean, the others you talked about. Alden was a Savior that went to college for architecture, but he's a nurse out here. Dwight's a mechanic, and I can guarantee you he never shot either of us. Look, Clars, the war is what we need to talk about. It sounds like it messed you up pretty badly."

"It did, at first," I tell him. "I had ten years to cope, but even with Alden helping me… I lost Glenn, Daryl. I always promised him I'd never let anything happen to him, and then I was covered in his blood. I was forced to watch Abraham be brutally murdered for no reason. You were taken and tortured. Aaron nearly died more than a couple times, including when he lost his arm—though that was actually after the war. Sasha offed herself. And then… Eric was killed. And C—" I cut myself off, unable to speak of him. "I lost someone I love, after all that he had been through, a goddamn walker bite is what took him from me."

"What was his name?" Daryl questions.

"I… I can't, Daryl," I whisper. "It still hurts too much. Even after I fell in love with someone else years after he was gone, the memory remained. Our love was God, and then Death came. Because in the end, Death comes for us all, even God."

"Hey, you know what?" Daryl says softly, moving to sit on my bed so he can face me. "None of that happened. Eric and Glenn are alive, so are Abraham and Sasha. And your boyfriend, he's somewhere. We'll find him. We'll find them all."

I smile softly, but I can't just move past it that easily. They all might be alive, but that doesn't mean that I didn't see them die. That I didn't watch them take their final breath, hold them, kill them. That doesn't stop the pain I felt from being real. It still hurt, even ten years later.

"Hey, chin up," Daryl tells me, kissing my forehead. "It's over. Aaron and Eric are coming by tomorrow to get your stuff. Everything's gonna turn out the way it's supposed to be."

There's a knock on the door, and Daryl gets up to answer it. "Oh, speak of the devil," Daryl says, opening the door as I get to my feet. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in the area, thought I'd drop in and actually introduce myself," Eric says, stepping inside.

I freeze as the redhead enters, whispering, "Eric?"

"Hi," Eric says, offering me the warm smile that I haven't seen since he died at the Saviors' hands. I start over, and he has to take a step back as I suddenly wrap him in a hug. Eric chuckles, not having expected it. "Hi, Clary. I'm Eric Raleigh, but you already know that, I guess."

I pull back for just a moment, staring up at him. "You're here." I glance away before looking back at him. "I'm sorry. Aaron told you 'bout my, um…"

"He told me," Eric replies. "But you don't need to worry. Nothing like that is ever gonna happen, not for real."

"I know," I say. "It's just…" My eyes drift down to his abdomen, landing on the place where he was shot. I close my eyes, steadying my breathing before looking back up at him. "It felt real, ya know? I felt all of it. Every second, every shot, every hit, every loss."

"Was it here?" Eric questions, having caught on that I kept looking at his stomach. "How I… how I died?" I quickly nod. "Hey, it's okay. Here, look." Eric lifts the bottom of his shirt, showing me his bare stomach. "See? No blood, no wound."

"No gunshot," I add as Eric pulls his shirt back down. "I'm sorry. I know I sound crazy, and I know none of that was real, but it just…"

"It's like those dreams that seem so real you think you're awake, and then when you wake up, you have to try to remember if it actually happened," Eric supplies.

"Yes!" I exclaim. "Thank you! That's exactly it!"

Daryl chuckles, saying, "I'll let you two get to know each other. Clars, I'm gonna go check you out, alright?"

I give him a thumbs up, turning back to Eric as Daryl leaves. I sigh softly, leaning back against the wall. "I really missed you, Dad." My eyes widen as I realize what I just said. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry. That's probably really awkward 'cause this is the first time we really met."

"It's okay," Eric tells me with a soft smile. He holds out an arm, and I immediately wrap my arms around his waist, resting my head against his chest. "We're gonna be okay, sweetheart. Things are going to turn out the way they were always supposed to."

~Carl~

I sigh softly as I look at the time on my phone, stomach growling as I realize I haven't eaten all day, and it's nearly six. I look down as I receive a text:

Shane and I are going for dinner, taking Judith with us. Will you be alright on your own?

I quickly text my mom back, assuring her that I'll be alright. I get to my feet, looking down at my dad. A year has passed, and he's still in a coma from the damn gunshot wound. "I'll be back tomorrow," I promise him. "I love you, Dad."

I turn, searching my pockets for my keys as I exit his room in the hospital. I pass by the one room I had been in on occasion, talking to the family of the other coma patient, not looking inside. I lift my head as I find my keys, catching sight of Daryl down the hall as he walks next to a redheaded man. He glances towards someone on his other side, and I follow his gaze to see the same person that I had seen unconscious for a year. I'd recognize her anywhere. We lock eyes, and I finally see what color hers are.

They're grey.

I always thought they'd be the same blue as her brother's.

I whisper, "Oh, my god."

"Carl," Clary breathes. She suddenly takes off, and I stumble back as she wraps her arms around me before hugging her back. After a few moments, we pull back, just staring at each other. After a long few minutes, Clary says, "Your eyes."

"Your voice," I respond, as it sounded the exact same as I expected it to.

"It's you," Clary murmurs, eyes flicking down to my lips.

"I've been waiting a year for this," I say, then kiss her. Clary immediately kisses me back, her lips moving in perfect synchronization with mine, as if she's kissed me a thousand times before. When we break apart, it's only to take a breath. "So, even though we just officially met, like, a minute ago, is it too soon to ask you out on a date?"

Clary laughs, shaking her head. "Where are you taking me?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out," I reply, pressing a quick kiss to her nose. I look over her shoulder at Daryl, who had taken a few steps closer. "Hey, Daryl. I'm stealing your sister."

"You've got my blessing, kid," Daryl says, raising a hand in surrender. "But I think it's up to Eric."

"Whoa, hey, I just adopted her today," Eric says, shaking his head. "Daryl's still got blessing privileges right now."

Clary chuckles, leaning into me as she turns to face her brother and adopted father. I reach forward, shaking Eric's hand, saying, "I'm Carl Grimes. It's nice to meet you, sir."

"Eric Raleigh," he says. "You don't need to be formal." Eric gives Clary a grin. "Hey, remember what I told you. Things are going to turn out the way they're supposed to."

"C'mon," I say, taking Clary's hand. "You hungry?"

"I'm starving," Clary replies. Daryl and Eric stay behind, talking to Carol, as Clary and I get in the elevator. She looks up at the speakers, smiling softly as if she recognizes the jazz music playing. Clary turns, taking my hands as she sways to the music, softly singing.

"Kiss me once, then kiss me twice
Then kiss me once again
It's been a long, long time
Haven't felt like this, my dear
Since I can't remember when
It's been a long, long time"

I spin her, then rest my hands on her hips and pull her closer. Clary wraps her arms around my neck, smirking. "So… a year, huh?"

I shake my head at her, laughing, "Shut up."

"Make me," Clary challenges.

"Oh, I'll make you," I reply. I lean forward, kissing her once, then twice, then once again.

~Clary~

"Well, damn, you cleaned up the place," I say as soon as I walk inside the place that used to be Will's house, Daryl's now that Will is dead. "I'm impressed. I never thought this place would be free of burnt carpet and beer bottles."

"Yeah, I renovated everything the second it was in my name," Daryl replies.

"So, what're we watching?" I question, dropping down on the couch beside him.

"Oh, just the game," Daryl says, gesturing to the basketball game on the television. "First one of the season. Hawks and Grizzlies. It's almost over, though."

"Dammit." The game finished, the Grizzlies winning, just like Daryl predicted they would. Judging from the scores, it was close the entire game, giving Daryl and I hope that the Hawks could win, but the Grizzlies made a couple winning shots right at the end. The camera cuts to an interview with a player on the Grizzlies, but I don't need the name card to tell me who it is.

I recognize that voice, those golden teeth.

"Daryl, that's him," I whisper, grabbing my brother's arm. "That's him."

Daryl looks over at me. "What the hell are you talking about?"

I tear my eyes away from the player, looking to Daryl. "That's Beta."

Daryl glances at Beta before back at me. "That's the guy that killed you?"

"With the dagger Alden gave me to keep myself safe. He killed me just like they killed Jesus. All I remember is one minute I was fighting him in the woods, and the next I heard your voice, begging me to wake up. I thought he just knocked me out at first. Then I realized he killed me."

"And that's how you ended up back here." I nod, and Daryl switches the game off, fully turning to face me. "Don't even think about him."

"Daryl, that's the guy that killed me. How can I not think about him?"

"It was in there. He can't hurt you out here. No one can, not anymore. C'mon, let's take your mind off it. Tell me about your date."

I nod. I can do that, I can talk about Carl. Carl, who's real, who's alive. It doesn't matter that Beta's real, not when everyone else that I've lost is still here.

"Do you remember when I said there was someone I lost?" I question. "Someone that I loved?"

Daryl's eyes widen as it dawns on him, asking, "It was him?"

"It was Carl," I say. "It's always been Carl. Even when I was with Alden, there was… there was a part of my heart that belonged to Carl. Even when I was with Alden, I knew I would never love him the way I love Carl. The way I still love Carl, the Carl that I found again in this world. I don't often believe in fate, but she made Carl and I for each other. Our love is God. Carl will always be the one I love, and I will not lose him again."