Hey!
Hope you're enjoying this.
I forgot to mention that I never originally planned for Daryl to save Carol. I had planned on him going back to the quarry after losing her but I never planned for him to travel back to save her. I couldn't just let Carol stay dead though. It's not in me lol. You'll understand why this is significant soon. This decision changed the whole base of this story. Plus, it makes sense that if Daryl had the power of time travel, he would go back and save her.
Just a little fun fact for you
Daryl woke feeling better than he had in weeks. The knowledge that he'd managed to save Carol had apparently done wonders for his insomnia. For the first time in a month, he hadn't woken with the sensation of choking. Hadn't needed to run to the bathroom and empty his stomach.
Instead, he'd slept through the night. What he could remember of his dreams was strange though. They were filled with interactions he was sure didn't happen. Conversations with people he knew he hadn't had. Daryl guessed this must be what Eugene was talking about when he said he had two sets of memories.
Daryl went about getting ready for the day without the lethargy that had become familiar. In fact, he almost felt giddy. Because he knew that Carol was alive. He could just go up and talk to her if he wanted. His lips lifted at that. He left his room with an uncommon spring in his step and entered the kitchen. He smiled at the sight that greeted him.
Michonne was at the stove in the middle of cooking something. Judith and RJ were sitting at the table chatting animatedly. The kids looked around when he approached, grinning at him.
"Hey, Uncle Daryl!" Judith greeted excitedly. "Mom's making pancakes! You want some?"
Daryl moved over to the table and sat down. He reached out a hand and ruffled RJ's curls, making the boy giggle.
"Sounds good to me," Daryl agreed. The thought of pancakes was a welcome one. After he lost Carol, he'd forced food into his mouth now and then. Now, he actually felt hungry.
Michonne left the stove and placed a stack of plates, along with some utensils on the table. Next to it, she put a plate of perfect, fluffy pancakes.
"Well, dig in. Enjoy my random burst of motivation," Michonne urged with a grin. She glanced at Daryl for a long moment, appraising him.
"You look like you're in a good mood today," she finally commented.
Daryl shrugged. He understood her surprise. It wasn't a common occurrence for him to be in a good mood. This last year especially. They'd lost too many in such a short amount of time. But today he felt like he'd gotten a piece of himself back.
"Guess I am," he replied.
"Good. Haven't seen that in a while," Michonne said, giving him a soft smile. She didn't try to press the subject more. Instead she occupied herself with putting two smaller pancakes on RJ's plate. "Here you go, baby."
All of them ate and made light conversation. Daryl's eyes couldn't help lingering on the empty seat beside him. It was an action he'd grown quite familiar with these last few months. Carol rarely joined them at the dining table. She would usually have her meals in her room.
"Carol up yet?" he asked through a mouthful of food.
Michonne gave him a look and he blushed. She'd been trying to teach RJ good manners and had asked him to make more of an effort to be a good example to the boy. He'd never been worried about his manners before so it was easy for him to forget. Still, she answered his question.
"She left not long ago. I invited her to join us but she seemed pretty keen to head out."
Daryl hummed. He couldn't help the worry that overtook him. He'd saved her life, sure, but he'd still seen that fierce determination for revenge in her eyes. She could wind up going out on her own, looking to kill Alpha, only for something else to happen. Then he'd lose her all over again. Daryl shoved the rest of his last pancake into his mouth, making sure to chew with his mouth closed to placate Michonne a little. Then he stood from the table. He glanced from Judith to RJ.
"You two be good for your mom, okay?"
The kids looked up to him. Sometimes it was only his influence that made them give their mother some peace and quiet. They weren't bad kids. They just got rambunctious at times and it tired Michonne out trying to control them.
"We will," RJ promised with a smile.
Daryl left the kitchen and moved to the front door. He squinted at the bright sun as he emerged from the house. People passed by, some stopping to offer him a wave or greeting that he returned. None of them knew the gravity of what he'd done. If they experienced the strange dreams he had, they probably had written them off as just that. Dreams. It was a little surreal to think about. He and Eugene were the only ones who knew. He walked down the stairs, intent on looking for Carol.
"Hey," he heard from nearby, startling him.
Daryl whirled around to see the object of his search. Carol was sitting on the steps leading down to the cell. She was wearing a pink top with a black vest over the top. It was an odd combination but it looked good on her. Her hair was up in it's usual knot at the back of her head. He was stuck staring at her for a while, once again distracted by her beauty.
He shook himself out of it enough to answer her.
"Hey. You just been sittin' out here?"
Carol hummed and nodded.
"Wanted some fresh air."
Daryl looked her over carefully.
"Everythin' okay?"
Carol glanced down at her hands for a moment before looking up at him again.
"Aaron came by. He told me he was planning on getting a group together to go look for Lydia tomorrow. Wanted me to pass the message along to you," she revealed.
Daryl nodded. He'd shamefully forgotten about the missing girl. He'd been so caught up in celebrating the fact that Carol was alive. Lydia being out there somewhere had completely slipped his mind.
"I'll go see him later," he told her in reply.
Carol nodded but there was still something in her eyes.
"Somethin' wrong?"
Carol sighed and fiddled with her bracelet.
"I think we need to talk."
Daryl chewed his lip. That sentence never led to anything good.
"About what?"
"About what happened out there in the woods. I know you don't remember it, but you had to tie me up! That's how bad I was!"
She avoided his eyes after she spoke. Daryl moved over and sat next to her.
"I remember," he told her.
"What? But-" she spluttered, her eyes widening.
Daryl remembers the wild confusion his past self had displayed in front of her. And then, in the following weeks, his determination to uncover the truth. A quest which had proved fruitless. His past self had been left with no choice but to let what had happened go.
"I don't know how, but I remember everything now. Don't know why I thought I got knocked out but I know it didn't happen now," Daryl lied. He forced himself to keep eye contact with her and prayed she didn't see through him. Carol almost looked like she wanted to argue the point but she stopped.
"I'm glad," she said instead. "I was really worried about you."
"Sorry," he told her. Then he added something on to hopefully reassure her. "Hell, we're all probably fucked in the head by now."
"Some more than others," Carol replied, a look of self loathing in her eyes.
"I didn't mean that-" he tried but she cut him off.
"I know. I know that's not what you meant. But it's true," she said. "It's why I keep doing everything wrong. I'm fucked up."
Daryl swallowed.
"Nah, you ain't. No more fucked up than me."
Carol smiled weakly but shook her head.
"You're too lenient with me, Daryl. I know you've been pissed at me. That I keep disappointing you."
Daryl shook his head.
"Nah, I ain't been pissed at ya. Ain't disappointed neither."
Carol sighed and looked at her hands that were still toying with her bracelet.
"You don't have to lie to me."
"Not lyin'," Daryl told her honestly. Maybe it had appeared that way to her, but what she had interpreted as him being pissed or disappointed, had just been his fear. Fear that he was losing her.
Carol huffed at him. She released her bracelet and stared down at the door to the cell. She shook her head.
"I don't think you realize how fucked up I really am, Daryl," her voice wobbled.
"Why don't you tell me?"
Carol glanced at him, hesitance in her eyes. She looked away again.
"I... See things. People. People that are... Dead," she revealed, pausing here and there.
"Like see 'em? Right there in front of you?" he asked for clarification. He was a little horrified by it. No wonder she'd been acting so freaked out if she'd been seeing actual ghosts.
She nodded her head.
"Exactly like that. I thought the pills would help but they made it worse."
Daryl didn't know what to say. He was no doctor. He didn't know much about this stuff. From the book he'd read a long time ago, the one he'd picked up at the women's shelter, he'd learned a bit about PTSD. The book said that people who experienced trauma could end up having hallucinations like that. Unfortunately, he never got to finish reading it, so
he didn't know if it said anything about how to stop it.
"Am I going crazy, Daryl?" Carol asked, breaking his thoughts. Her voice was small and afraid.
Daryl shook his head adamantly. He didn't know a lot about this but she wasn't crazy. He knew that much.
"Nah, you ain't crazy. You just been through some shit. We all have. It's bound to hit us all differently. That's all this is," he told her with confidence.
"Then why can't I stop?" Carol asked, her voice hysterical. "Why can't I listen when you tell me not to do things?"
Daryl sighed at the desperation in her features.
"It's your grief. It's got you blindsided."
"It's making me a liability!" she burst out. She sounded angry now. He knew it was directed at herself.
"You ain't a liability," he retorted vehemently. He knew some of the others thought it, but he would never even entertain the idea.
Carol's anger left her quickly and she gave him a sad smile.
"You're sweet, but deep down, you know I am."
Daryl was ready to argue the point, but she held up her hand to stop him.
"I can't stop these feelings inside of me. Whatever I've tried hasn't worked," she sucked in a breath before looking him in the eye. "That's why, when you go to look for Lydia, I'm going to stay here. I don't want to, but it's safer for everyone."
Daryl watched her, watched as she sunk into self-loathing.
"I can't trust myself anymore. That's why I didn't let you untie me," Carol confessed in a whisper, her tears flowing freely now. "Maybe it'd be better if you locked me in the cell…" she trailed off.
Daryl shook his head right away.
"Nah. You don't belong in a cage," he said, reminding him of the conversation he'd had with Lydia. "You're gonna make it through this. We will, together."
Carol pursed her lips but didn't answer.
"I hope you're right because I think I'm losing myself. Worse than I ever have before."
With tears threatening to break out, she stood and practically ran up the stairs. She opened the front door and slipped inside.
Daryl sat there for a while after she left. Her words had put a lump in his throat. He was reminded of the conversation they'd had on the stairs in the Sanctuary. She'd said the same back then. He should have paid more attention. Not let her run off and leave on that boat. Nothing was going to erase the horrors that plagued her. If he could, he would take all that pain away and give her back what she lost. But he can't.
Yes, you can, his mind whispered to him.
His heart pounded at the realization.
Then a plan began to form.
"I'm sorry, could you please repeat your previous statement," Eugene requested, looking stunned.
"I want you to send me back again," Daryl repeated firmly.
"But you fixed things," Eugene said with a frown.
"Not everything," Daryl replied, thinking of Carol's broken soul. He'd saved the body of the woman he cared about but inside, she was feeling like she was dead anyway.
"I need you to send me back further."
Eugene watched him, looking nervous. He fiddled with the pen in his hand.
"How far are we talkin' here. A couple months…"
"Back to the start," Daryl cut him off.
Eugene's eyes widened and he dropped his pen. He blushed as he heard the clatter. He stooped to pick it up and then looked at Daryl again.
"You mean..."
"I mean right back to start. When this whole shitstorm began," Daryl elaborated, cutting off Eugene again. The idea had come to him as he sat there, alone on the steps. He could go back and prevent every awful thing that ever happened to her since this whole thing began.
"I see. Well, I think I get where you're going with this. Problem is, that's going back years," Eugene started, looking deep in thought now.
Daryl huffed.
"Can you do it or not?"
"Maybe," Eugene answered. He looked deep in thought as he sat at his workbench. "Possibly. I'll go over some calculations. Give me a couple of days?"
"Alright," Daryl replied. He could work with that. "Thanks," he added. As much as this man confused him, he had been the catalyst in saving Carol.
Eugene nodded and Daryl quickly left the attic.
Carol slipped out of her room a little while after she left Daryl on the steps. She wanted to apologize for just running off like that. Her emotions had gotten the better of her but she felt bad for just leaving him there. She consulted Michonne and she'd told Carol that Daryl was still sitting outside.
So she left the house, intent on telling him she was sorry but he wasn't there. She looked around and spotted him walking down the street. She was about to call out to him but she stopped. He had turned onto a street he normally would not frequent. She frowned and hurried to follow. Her frown deepened as she watched him enter Eugene's house.
Daryl never went out of his way to talk to Eugene. She knew he found him exhausting. Even when they were required to work together, she'd seen the eye rolls and sighs of exasperation Daryl would express in response to the man. Why would he willingly go to Eugene's house?
Carol crept closer and hesitated before opening the door. If she was caught, she'd just play it off as a friendly visit, she told herself. Stepping inside, she saw that the cost was clear though. She looked around but the main house was empty. That left the attic where Eugene worked on whatever the hell he worked on.
She moved up the stairs quietly and came to a door. She gingerly pressed her ear to it. All she could make out were muffled voices. The wood was too thick for her to properly make out the conversation. Feeling silly for trying to eavesdrop like a kid and not wanting to be caught, she slipped back downstairs. She left the house and decided to hide herself around the side. She'd wait until Daryl reappeared and see where he went next.
Carol listened for any movement and it wasn't long until she heard the front door open and close. She watched Daryl walk away from Eugene's house, back the way he came. She followed along, keeping a large space between them so he wouldn't notice her following. But it seemed he was heading back to their house. She paused behind another house and watched as Daryl disappeared inside the one they shared with Michonne and the kids.
Carol emerged from her hiding spot with a frown.
What was going on here?