Here is the second chapter that I have reworked. I hope you like it. I'm still not exactly satisfied but I can't keep going over it anymore. Let me know what you think.
Also, I know there are lots of things we would have wanted to happen differently in Caryl's journey. I'm happy to work some of them into this if you have any suggestions. If it's not clear from the story description, we are eventually going all the way back to the quarry so theres a lot of opportunity for change there.
Daryl spent the next month in a haze.
Knowing he wasn't good company for anyone, he entrusted Dog to the care of Judith. She'd been more than happy to take on her pet sitting role again, giving him a sad smile before hugging him tightly. She knew about Carol and knew he was hurting.
Michonne had broken the news to both Judith and RJ gently. RJ was too young to really understand the gravity of it. Judith on the other hand, had been heartbroken to hear what happened to her aunt Carol.
Michonne, of course, had spared the kids the horrifying details. The only thing they knew was that a walker had gotten Carol and they hadn't been able to save her. That had been more than enough for Judith to burst into hysterical tears.
Daryl had heard the whole conversation and the ensuing break down from his room. Judith's wails had shoved a rusty knife into the gaping wound in his heart. He had shoved a pillow over his head and tried to drown out the sound.
In the days after, he managed to crawl out of the refuge of his room. He geared up and took his bike all the way out to Hilltop.
The people stared at him and offered him awkward greetings upon arrival. News travelled fast between the communities. They knew what had happened in the cave and Daryl had never kept it a secret how much he cared for Carol. Ezekiel himself had stared at Daryl for a long while before giving him a wave. He'd allowed the man a nod. The former king had cared about Carol too, even after their break up.
Daryl had headed for the merchants that ran little booths in the yard. He'd needed something to help him forget. Hilltop happened to produce bottles of forget on the regular. He traded what he could, which wasn't much, mainly cigarettes, and acquired a few bottles of booze. The vendors had given him knowing looks as they handed the goods over but they hadn't said a word.
Daryl had returned to Alexandria, avoiding Michonne's attempt at conversation. He locked himself up in his room once more. Then, he'd gotten started sinking to the bottom of the bottles. He kept his door firmly locked. He knew how he could be when he was drunk and didn't want the kids to see him like that. He'd ignored the knocking at his door and the calls for dinner. He hadn't been hungry in a while.
Despite the brief reprieve the booze gave him from the pain, it did nothing to stop the nightmares. In fact, it made them worse.
He would find himself back in that cave. Her screams would echo in his ears and he'd be pushing himself through the horde, trying to reach her. But each step he'd take made the distance wider.
Then came the worst part.
The blood.
It would fill up the cavern, rising higher and higher until he couldn't stop it from completely submerging him. He'd be drowing, scrambling with his hands, trying to reach the surface. All the while he was filled with the knowledge that this was Carol's stuff that had kept her alive, had made her heart beat, had made her cheeks turn rosy when she smiled.
Daryl would wake covered in sweat, gasping for air. He'd heave himself from his bed, rush to the bathroom and vomit until he was only making dry heaves over the toilet bowl. He'd slump to the floor afterwards, not bothering to move. He knew he'd only be returning there after another dream.
Eventually, he'd poured the remaining bottles of alcohol down the sink. There'd been no point lying to himself anymore. The booze wasn't going to take away the pain. And when he'd sobered up for the first time in weeks, he regretted the decision to turn to the stuff. He'd been acting like his father. It was a terrifying thought for him. He'd never wanted to be like his dad.
With a new resolve to never do such a thing again, Daryl offered to do whatever the hell was needing to be done. People had been reluctant at first. They'd seen how unlike himself he'd been. But soon, probably with some coaxing on Michonne's part, they changed their tune. They started giving him odd jobs. Repair work mostly.
Daryl knew they felt sorry for him and that they could easily have done the tasks themselves. Usually pity like that would piss him off. For now though, it served his purpose. As long as they felt sorry for him, they would keep handing him mind numbing chores he could throw himself into.
Daryl concentrated on his hands as he crafted bolts. He sat on the steps of the house he shared with Michonne and the kids. He had no jobs or tasks that had been appointed to him. So this was the next best thing. It didn't do much in the way of clearing his head, but at least it kept his hands busy.
"Daryl?"
Daryl looked up at the call of his name.
Eugene stood at the foot of the steps. He waved awkwardly.
Daryl squinted at him.
Eugene had never sought him out like this before. They had worked together, fought together, survived together. But they had never just talked or spent time together for the sake of it. So Daryl, naturally assumed this had to be about something that needed to be done.
"What's up?" he asked, hoping it was something time consuming.
Eugene cleared his throat.
"Well, let me preface this by saying that there is no guarantee that it will work," he started.
Daryl frowned.
Eugene didn't seem to notice as he kept speaking.
"It would take years and years of research before we could determine how accurate the calculations are," he took a breath and smiled a little. "In spite of that, I feel that, given the recent loss, it would be a risk willing to be taken."
Eugene looked at Daryl expectantly in the silence that followed.
Daryl stared at him blankly.
"What?"
Eugene's cheeks warmed. He chuckled sheepishly.
"Uh, I may have jumped the gun there, so I'll backtrack."
Daryl waited. He had stopped carving the arrow he'd been working on and was simply turning it over in his hands.
Eugene took a breath before continuing.
"I have, successfully I might add, created something similar to that of the fabled flux capacitor in the iconic trilogy, Back to the Future," he said, grinning.
Daryl just stared at him, wondering if Eugene had really said what he thought he did.
Eugene shifted.
"Uh, Back to the Future was a movie from the 80s…" Eugene started to explain, misreading his reaction.
Daryl cut him off.
"I know what Back to the Future is," he said with a glare.
Eugene's cheeks reddened and he gave Daryl an apologetic look.
"Then you should understand the concept, at least in a simple way."
At that, Daryl's glare intensified.
"Not that you're simple, of course," he spluttered.
Daryl huffed, feeling a headache coming on.
"Will you just get to the point?" Daryl urged.
Eugene puffed his chest up.
"I have..." he dragged out. "Built a time machine!" he finished, beaming.
Daryl stared at him.
"You built a time machine," Daryl repeated flatly.
Eugene deflated a little at his lack lustre tone.
"Uh, yeah."
"Bullshit," Daryl muttered, gathering up his arrows and getting to his feet. Clearly, he wasn't going to get any peace out here.
"Hey, wait a minute!" Eugene cried.
Daryl could hear the man following, trying to keep up with the larger strides he was making. Daryl whirled around, bringing the two men face to face.
"What the hell do you want from me?" Daryl growled, looking him up and down.
Eugene backed up with his hands raised.
"Look, will you please just hear me out?" he begged. "I've got a proposition for you."
Daryl scrutinised him before backing off a little. As ridiculous as it seemed, Daryl could tell he was being serious.
Eugene blew out a breath.
"I can prove that the time machine is real too," he said.
Daryl forced himself not to roll his eyes.
"Forget the damn time machine for a minute. What the hell's this proposition you got for me?" Daryl asked.
Eugene looked stumped for a moment before he spoke.
"Well, the two things aren't exactly mutually exclusive."
Daryl sighed and nodded for him to continue.
"My proposition is this: I want you to go back in time," Eugene said, the eagerness returning to his eyes.
Daryl blinked.
"What?" was all he could manage.
"You heard me correctly," Eugene confirmed.
"Why the hell would I do that?" Daryl asked, still not sure why he was even talking about this.
"Think about it," Eugene urged. With some hesitance, he continued. "You could go back. Go back and save her."
Daryl's stomach jumped even as his mind warred against the impossibility.
Save her.
His mind latched onto the words.
"So, you said you could prove it," Daryl reminded as he took in Eugene's workspace.
It was in the attic of one of the houses and had been arranged to hold all the junk the man was tinkering with. There were crates of bits and pieces everywhere.
"Correct," Eugene replied, not the least bit self concious of the room. On the contrary, he seemed proud of it.
"Well?" Daryl said with little patience.
"Uh... Right..." he stammered, catching onto Daryl's mood. "So, I've been doing small tests over the last few weeks."
Daryl moved to lean against a support beam as he listened. He crossed his arms.
"No one, as far I know, has noticed, but I've been travelling back in time," Eugene continued, barely containing his glee. "With this!" he added, gesturing towards something on the workbench.
Daryl examined it.
At first glance, it looked to be a plain old backpack. Something one might take on a run. On closer inspection, he realised there were things that set it apart. There were panels of some kind of metal circuitry along either side. There was a small rectangular piece of metal on the right strap with a number pad embedded in it. In various places there were russian symbols.
"You got this stuff from the satellite?" Daryl asked out loud, looking to Eugene for confirmation.
He nodded.
"In all honesty, without the pieces I salvaged from the satellite, my endeavours would likely have failed," he paused and smiled. "Some of the stuff was truly extraordinary! I'd even hazard a guess that some of it was experimental."
"That's... That's... Great?" Daryl commented, not knowing what else he could say.
If Eugene noticed or minded, he didn't call attention to it. He just nodded again, his smile widening.
"Indeed, it is. But I should get back to the matter at hand, right?"
I wish you would, Daryl thought to himself.
"On my test trips, I would place markers. Ways to prove to myself whether I could alter the timeline," he said, waving his hands as he spoke.
"And?" Daryl prompted.
Eugene had a penchant for leaving dramatic pauses after his statements that left you mentally screaming at him to get on with it.
"And I was," Eugene replied, smiling again. "Each time, when I returned to the present, I would check the locations where I left the markers and they would be there, when before I left, they weren't."
Daryl hummed as he considered the answer.
Was this the 'proof' Eugene spoke of? Daryl wondered. There had to be more.
"How am I supposed to believe any of this?"
Daryl knew that he was only humoring Eugene because the alternative would have been crafting arrows and feeling sorry for himself. At least, even if this turned out to be a load of bullshit, he wouldn't have to think about less than pleasant things for a small time.
"Good question," Eugene said. He picked up the backpack thing. "I'm going to demonstrate one of my experiments in front of you."
"Alright," Daryl said, squinting at him.
Eugene hooked the backpack over one arm before he turned back to the workbench. He reached for a notebook and flipped a few pages in it. He held it open in front of Daryl's face. Daryl took a half step back from the invasion of space.
"This page is blank other than the date at the top, correct?" Eugene asked.
Daryl focused on the page.
"Yeah," he confirmed after a beat.
"I always date my notebooks ahead of time. A habit I developed as a child that just never left. In this case, its a useful habit," Eugene explained. "I'm going to place this notebook on the table again and I'm going to go back, in time, and write on it."
Daryl thought he understood the concept behind this little experiment. If it worked, the page should have the same date but won't be blank.
Eugene situated both straps over his shoulders.
"I'm going to travel back a few hours and then return," Eugene explained as he pressed some buttons on the keypad. "I should be gone for only several minutes, but it can be unpredictable."
Daryl nodded his understanding.
"You might want to get comfortable, just in case," Eugene advised as an afterthought.
Daryl sighed and took a seat in one of the dingy chairs that littered the room. As his behind made contact with it, a cloud of dust exploded around him. He coughed, waving the particles away.
Eugene gave him a sheepish look.
"Sorry, I've uh... I've been meaning to clean up in here."
Daryl just shook his head, continuing to choke slightly.
"Okay, well... I guess I'll see you soon!" Eugene said after an awkward silence.
He pushed a button on the keypad. There was a sound like an electronic 'zap' and Eugene disappeared.
Daryl blinked, staring at the space where the man had once stood. Even though Eugene had seemed serious, Daryl still hadn't expected anything to happen. Time travel was something that belonged in the world of make believe. That was what he had always thought.
He moved to the workbench and opened the notebook to the page Eugene had showed him. It was still blank with just the scrawled digits of the date in the top right corner. He closed it and returned to the dusty seat. He waited, his leg bouncing up and down impatiently. He wanted answers to the questions he was only now starting to have.
Was this real?
Could he really go back and stop what happened to Carol?
That was the main one. If this was real, then there was a chance he could save her. And the hope that thought brought on, was unbearable. He needed to know now.
After more long minutes of foot tapping and his thumb being practically gnawed to the bone, there was another 'zap' and Eugene appeared once more. He took the pack off and put it on the bench.
"Have a look at the notebook," he said casually.
Daryl stared at him for a moment longer before getting up and approaching the table. He picked up the book and flipped it open to the page he had looked at minutes ago. The date was the same in the corner but the page was no longer blank. It now had writing on it. It read:
'Hello Daryl. I just travelled back in time. Do you believe me now?'
Daryl lowered the book and looked at Eugene. The man was standing with his hands on his hips. A smile threated to break out on his face.
Eugine had really built a time machine.
Well, shit, Daryl thought.
He flopped back in the chair he had just vacated. He didn't even notice this time when the dust particiles floated around him. He hung his hands over his knees and stared at the floor. Minutes passed and then, suddenly, there was a bottle of water being thrust into his line of sight. He looked up to see Eugene standing there, offering it.
"Looked like you could use this," he said by way of explanation.
Daryl took it silently, unscrewing the cap and proceeding to gulp down half the contents.
Eugene stepped away and took a seat in the chair at his workbench. He didn't make any move to talk. He seemed to know that Daryl needed a moment to process all of this.
Daryl was thankful for the quiet as his mind whirred with what he had learned. He was still unsure about the whole thing but there was no denying it now. He had seen concrete evidence of it. Time travel was real and they had access to it. He swallowed hard. Even after all the water he had just drank, his throat still felt dry.
"So, you want me to go back in time?" he rasped out, meeting Eugene's eyes.
Eugene nodded.
"Correct," he confirmed.
Daryl took another gulp of water as he waited for Eugene to keep talking.
"I believe, if I can send you back a few weeks ago, you can prevent the events that caused the… The tragedy in the caves," he said, hedging his words at the end.
Daryl chewed his lip.
"You said you got your reasons for wanting me to do this."
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Simply put, I need the data that such a trip will provide. I've never gone back more than a day or two." Eugene looked down sheepishly. "It pains me to say, but I confess I'm a little too weak willed to make the trip myself. Plus, I figured why not try to do some good while we're at it?"
Daryl hummed. They were good enough reasons.
"So, I go back weeks ago and stop…" he paused, unable to give words to the event. "Stop it?"
"That's it," Eugene confirmed.
Daryl nodded.
"What about the me that's already back there?" Daryl asked as the thought occurred to him.
Eugene gave a little grimace.
"That's a bit of a tricky thing. Going back doesn't put you in your old body or cancel out the you that's already there," he explained. "I had some close calls in my experiements. Narrowly missed bumping into myself a few times."
Daryl leaned forward in his seat, playing with the bottle cap.
"You'll have to come up with an idea of what to do about that. My suggestion would be to find a way to keep your past self out of the picture for a little while. Cause some sort of distraction," Eugene went on.
"Alright, but I told you, I've seen Back to the Future, so, if I meet myself what'll happen?" Daryl questioned.
Eugene considered the question but then shrugged.
"Nothing is my guess. Fiction is different than reality. It's not advisable because of the confusion it would present but, theoretically speaking, if you do happen to run into yourself, nothing will happen. That's what my calculations seem to indicate."
"Huh," Daryl said with a frown. "That's easier than I thought."
Eugene chuckled.
"That's what I thought myself. It seems that, as hard as it is to live in this world, time travel is actually pretty easy in the grand scheme of things."
Daryl hummed.
"When do we do this?" He asked.
"Take the rest of the day and prepare," Eugene suggested. "Gather whatever you think you'll need. Good thing is, from my tests, I've concluded that whatever you're carrying will come with you."
"Alright," Daryl agreed.
Later that night, Daryl lay on his couch. Dog was at his feet, sleeping peacefully. Daryl, however, was wide awake. He looked to the table across the room and his eyes zeroed in on the double acorns. His lips twitched in a ghost of a smile.
'They're good luck,' he heard Carol say in his head
He would take them with him. He needed that luck. Looking at the acorns reminded him of the discovery he had made the same night he had lost her.
A Few Weeks Ago:
Daryl returned to his room, feeling lost and unable to focus on much of anything. He tore his shirt from his tired body, eager to shower. When he reached his pants, he paused. He was reminded of the moments before her death. The strange touch on his back pocket. His hands patted over the pockets, and he felt it. A barely discernible bump. He reached his hand in and closed his fingers around the object inside. He sucked in a shocked breath when he pulled his hand back out. It was the bracelet he had made her that day in the forest. Flashes of the day appeared before his eyes. Her smile and her teasing eyes. She'd seemed so carefree.
Daryl fell back on the couch, dissolving into sobs as he clutched the flimsy bracelet in his hand. Dog nudged him with his nose, in concern for his master's grief. He'd hauled the mutt into his arms, burying his face in his fur.
Now:
Daryl reached into the breast pocket of his shirt, pulling out the little bracelet. He flipped it over in his fingers, his mouth curving in a smile again. He'd only been joking when he'd presented it to her. He'd hoped it would at least make her smile or even laugh. But she had taken to wearing it religiously. He couldn't remember seeing her without it since he'd given it to her.
He stared at it a beat longer before he undid it and settled it over his own wrist. It did fit a little snugly but he managed to tie it securely.
He needed to take it with him too.
A piece of her to give him strength.