AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I posted a chapter yesterday that I don't think everybody read. Make sure you read the last chapter before moving on to this one.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Daryl shook off everyone like a dog shaking water out of his coat as he walked into the cellblock. He held up his hands to get Beth to back away from him. The girl was too touchy-feely, sometimes, and he didn't want a hug or her offered comfort.
He didn't want a single damned thing that any of them could offer him for a moment and, if they bothered him, everything he was feeling could very easily turn into a burning anger. He didn't want to lash out at any of them, either.
He steadied his voice as best he could.
"What's left of Oscar is outside," he said. "Dragged him out. You can bury him. He never turned."
"What about Carol?" Rick asked. Daryl glanced in his direction. He held, in his arms, the infant that Beth had brought to them when they'd first returned to the cell block—it seemed like days ago, now. Daryl couldn't stand to look at the man too long. He shook his head.
"Couldn't find her," Daryl said. "Found her knife an' her scarf."
"I'm sorry, brother," Rick offered.
Although the words actually sounded sincere, Daryl didn't want to hear them right now. He couldn't hear them right now. He shook his head and held up his hand.
"Leave me alone," he said, a word of warning to everyone and not just to Rick. "Where's Sophia?"
"Maggie's got her," Beth said.
Daryl nodded, shook off any questions that tried to follow him, and made his way through the prison in search of Maggie. Immediately upon finding Maggie—clearly entertaining herself with Sophia as she walked around near the door to Lori's cell—Daryl felt his chest seize up again over the sight of Sophia in her arms. He swallowed back, rapidly, against his feelings and held his arms out in the direction of the baby that held her arms out in his direction and called out for him—eternally happy to see him.
"Carol?" Maggie asked. Daryl simply shook his head. He knew that he couldn't speak. Speaking would only unleash everything that he was barely containing for the time being. "Daryl—I'm so sorry," Maggie said. He shook his head again. Taking the little girl, he hugged her to him and continued onward, happier than he'd ever been before that he and Carol had chosen a cell that was somewhat out of the way of the others.
Daryl sat down on the bed in their cell, with Sophia in his lap, and closed his eyes.
He could feel Carol around him. Her very essence hung in the air around him. He could feel her presence. She'd been gone from the space for so little time that it was as if her spirit hadn't had the time to leave yet. Daryl had never noticed how big her presence was, before, because he'd never had to be without it.
The bed was unmade. The sheets were wrinkled and the blanket was tossed around. The pillows were balled up and there were imprints on them—one where she'd rested her head just that morning. The other, where Daryl's head had been resting an hour after that, her pillow left undisturbed, while she'd shown her appreciation for a simple compliment over how pretty colors complimented her beautiful face.
Daryl could still see her smiling at him, hovering over him, satisfied with the pleasure she could give him.
He could smell her in the room. He could smell the scent of her body—all the scents of her body. His mind had recorded everything about her. But, stronger than anything, he could smell the scent of her that was to be found right at the crook of her neck. He smelled it whenever he rested his face there.
Sophia pulled him back into himself.
He was holding her with her feet on his legs. She put her hands on either side of his face and expressed her concern over how sad he looked, identifying his emotions with the declaration that she found "Dada sad." She told him that everything was "OK," and she offered him some sloppy kisses to try to soothe over whatever pain he was suffering.
He opened his eyes to her, not caring to hide the tears from the child that wouldn't judge him. After all, he'd tended her tears each day—and he would tend the ones that she was likely to shed in solidarity with him.
"I love you, Soph," Daryl offered. "And Daddy's always gonna love you, OK? No matter what. OK?"
Sophia's brow was furrowed. Whatever upset Daryl was clearly cause for alarm, and she looked ready to cry with him. Her chin quivered, making it even more evident that she thought Daryl should not cry without her.
"It OK!" She howled at him, much the same as he usually told her whenever she was hurt. "It OK, Dada!"
She repeated her promise to him a few times, determined to do everything in her power to soothe him from his hurt. He shook his head at her.
"It ain't OK, Soph," he told her. "It ain't. It ain't never gonna be OK again, and you don't even understand that. You can't even—you can't even understand that. And when you realize she's gone? I ain't never gonna get you to understand that she ain't comin' back an' it ain't fair to neither one of us."
Sophia's bottom lip rolled out. Her face wrinkled in the threat to cry. She wasn't sad about Carol, though. She didn't know what had happened. She wouldn't know what had happened—not for a long time. Daryl already knew that she would cry for days—she would look for her mother—she would have trouble sleeping and she would fight over wanting to have milk instead of formula and baby food. She would be miserable, and Daryl would be miserable as well—because they both needed Carol.
But Sophia was young and resilient. In a few weeks, or maybe even less, she would simply adapt. She would ask for Carol less. She would eat what she was given. Soon, she would play and laugh and her life would be as normal as it could be, because she was a baby and she simply accepted whatever normal was placed in front of her. Her heart would heal faster than Daryl's would. He doubted his would ever heal at all.
Someday, when she was older, she would ask about her mother, and Daryl would tell her about Carol, but it wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't mean the same to her as it meant to him. She would never remember the woman who had given her life and who would have traded her own life for Sophia's a thousand times.
"You the only thing I got left of her," Daryl offered, hugging the little girl to him. "And—I'ma love you forever, Sophia, OK? Daddy's sad, you right about that. But I'ma love you forever."
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It felt like days had passed, but it had likely only been hours. It was dark in the cell when Maggie interrupted the silence.
"Daryl?" Maggie asked.
"Go away," Daryl offered.
"I brought—formula for Sophia," Maggie said. "And food for both of you. She has to eat. You both do."
"Leave it where you standin'," Daryl said. "I'll get it."
Sophia was probably growing hungry, but she hadn't started to complain about it, yet. She was sitting in the bed, playing with her toys, while Daryl sat with her. She didn't seem to care that it was dark.
"I'll bring it in for you," Maggie said. She ignored him entirely and came into the cell.
"You don't fuckin' listen real good," Daryl offered.
Maggie smiled to herself.
"I've heard that before," she said. She picked up the lighter on the bedside table and lit the camping lantern. Daryl watched her as she put the lighter back down. She reached to pick up the scarf that Carol had been wearing—Daryl had put it on the bedside table.
"Don't touch that!" Daryl barked at her before she let her fingers land on it. She pulled her hand back, listening to his command this time.
"Carol had it on this morning," she offered.
"Found it," Daryl said.
"In the solitary confinement cells?" Maggie asked.
"Fuckin' tombs," Daryl said.
"They buried Oscar," Maggie said. "They marked the grave. We put up a little cross for Carol, too."
"She ain't buried out there," Daryl said.
"Just to remember her," Maggie said. "The baby's strong. She's doing well."
"Good," Daryl said. "I'm sure everybody's real happy."
"Lori looks like she's going to pull through the surgery," Maggie said.
"You gonna fuckin' understand if I don't care about the nightly news, ain't you?" Daryl asked. He reached for the food that Maggie had put down and she passed him the jar and spoon. As soon as Sophia saw evidence of a meal, she perked up. She still didn't understand that her mother was gone. For her, perhaps, her mother was just busy. She'd be back, as she always was, when Sophia needed her. It wouldn't be until Daryl washed her down, slipped her into her pajamas, and offered her that formula in place of the warm milk she usually drew from her mother's breast while Carol cuddled her to sleep, that Sophia was going to realize that something was absolutely wrong in her world. For now, she was content to let Daryl feed her before her bath.
"Daryl—I just wanted to say that, we're all sorry about Carol," Maggie said.
"Not nearly as sorry as me," Daryl said. "I'ma check again in the morning. Walk the halls a bit. She's in there—I know she is."
"You don't have to put yourself through that," Maggie said.
"I gotta put her down if she's walkin'," Daryl said. "She wouldn't wanna be that. She wouldn't wanna exist like that."
"We could do it. Glenn and T-Dog. They could get the prisoners to help. You don't have to be the one to do this."
"That's just the damn thing," Daryl said. His chest was tightening and he stopped talking for a second. He didn't want to do this. He didn't care if Sophia saw him cry. He didn't care if she knew the sound of his voice as he gasped for air through lungs that were failing him. He didn't want Maggie to see it, though. He didn't want the whole lot of them knowing how weak he truly was. For just a second, he focused on feeding Sophia, and he smiled to himself when she hummed her approval over the sweet potatoes and carrots that she seemed to like very much that night. She rocked back and forth and opened her mouth as soon as she'd swallowed to show that she was enthusiastic about her meal. In spite of all the pain inside him, Daryl smiled to himself. He could see Carol in Sophia's face and her mannerisms. In that way, Carol would never leave him. He cleared his throat as his sadness released his vocal cords a little. "I gotta do it. Ain't nobody else gonna—handle it right. They ain't gonna handle her right. I gotta look for her in the morning—if you or Beth can just watch Sophia for a while."
"Of course," Maggie said quickly. "Of course, we will." Maggie moved from where she was leaning, arms crossed tightly across her chest, to the bed. Without invitation—much like she'd done everything during this particular visit—she sat down next to Daryl on the bed. "We cared about Carol. And we care about you and—Sophia."
Daryl thought about snapping at her. He thought about throwing it in her face that he'd never felt that they'd supported Carol enough, even though the Greenes had supported her much more than many of the others had since the rock quarry. Instead, he decided to accept her words for what they were meant to be. They were an attempt to comfort him.
"Thank you," he said.
"Daryl—I talked to Glenn. And we were going to wait because we know you're upset, but it might help you to feel…a little better. A little less overwhelmed. But…"
"You got somethin' to say, then I'd appreciate it if you'd just spit it out," Daryl said, scraping the spoon around the inside of the jar to offer Sophia the last of the first jar of food before he moved on to the second that rested in his lap.
"We'll—help with Sophia," Maggie said. "We'll take care of her. Make sure she gets what she needs."
"Appreciate it. I don't imagine it's gonna take me more'n a couple hours to check that buildin' out," Daryl said.
"I meant—for good, Daryl," Maggie said. "It's one thing for you to take care of her with Carol's help, but…she was never your responsibility and it's too much for you. Glenn and I would be happy to take Sophia. You'd always be a big part of her life, of course…but…we want to help you."
Daryl's stomach seized up painfully as the impact of her implications hit him.
"Fuck you," he said, without bothering to put too much force behind the words. It didn't even disturb Sophia's meal.
"Daryl…" Maggie said.
"No," Daryl said, feeling the tension rising in him, but trying to keep it in check so that he didn't upset Sophia by accident. "Fuck you an' anybody else that thinks you know more about Sophia than I do. She's my daughter."
"Carol's gone," Maggie said quietly. "And you don't have to try to take care of her alone."
"Then you wanna help me, you offer to fuckin' help me," Daryl said. "To watch her while I do what I gotta do. While I'm huntin' the fuckin' food you assholes need to live. You don't try to take her away from me. Because I ain't gonna let that happen. I'ma tell you right now that I—I ain't gonna let it happen. And none of you is fuckin' man enough to take her away from me."
Maggie held her hands up in a clear sign of surrender.
"Nobody wants to take her away from you," she said. "We wanted you to know that—you don't have to do this."
"I do," Daryl said. "Sophia needs me. And—I need her. So…you just get the hell outta here, an' you tell anybody else that wants to take her away that they can go an' fuck themselves while you're at it."
"Nobody's going to take her away," Maggie offered, but she did stand up.
"I know they ain't," Daryl responded.
"We are here to help you, though," Maggie offered, quieter than before. "We'll watch her in the morning. We'll even help you look for Carol's body, if you're determined to do this."
"Get outta here," Daryl demanded. Sophia, entirely unbothered by anything that had taken place around her while she devoured her food and sat in Daryl's lap, occasionally using his shirt as a napkin, latched onto the words and barked them out at Maggie.
Her hands still raised in a sign of surrender; Maggie left.
"Don't worry, Soph," Daryl said to the little girl in his lap who was clearly not worried about anything at the moment. "Ain't nothin' or nobody gonna get between us. I ain't goin' nowhere. Not for good. It don't matter what they say. We'll figure it out."
