AN: Here we go, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Getting the chance to eat a "late lunch" out with her mate wasn't too difficult for Carol. She simply asked Alice if she could arrange it and Alice had spoken to Grady and set the whole thing up. Carol acquired a picnic lunch from the dining hall and now she was sitting with Daryl on a small stone bench that was placed oddly near the walkway and was, more than likely, only temporarily located there until the construction on the fenced in property was finished.
"Are you gonna tell me what the hell's wrong?" Daryl asked, biting into his sandwich. "Because you got a real sour look on your face. Is it the food?"
"The food's fine," Carol said, though she really hadn't tasted hers to support that claim.
"The company?" Daryl asked, gesturing with his head in the direction of the red-headed guard that was keeping watch over them from a short distance away.
"I don't care about him, either," Carol said.
"Then I give," Daryl said with a snort. "Is it me? I did something to you so you had them hold me over from regular lunch so I could eat special with you and you could look at me like you hate me the whole damn time?"
Carol sighed and put her sandwich down.
"I don't hate you," she said. "In fact, it's got nothing to do with you." She glanced around and assessed the people in their immediate area to try to determine how many of them were even paying them attention. The red-headed guard seemed to be the only one that was interested in them and, honestly, he wasn't so much paying them attention as he was simply glancing at them every now and again like he expected them to do something that he'd have to get control over. Carol leaned a little closer to Daryl. "I talked to you know who today," Carol said.
Daryl raised his eyebrows at her.
"Santa Clause?" He asked. "It ain't real fair to talk in code if I don't get to know the code beforehand."
"Work," Carol said.
Daryl nodded then.
"You pregnant?" He asked.
Carol shook her head.
"I still don't know. That wasn't what I talked to her about," she said. She could understand why that would be the first place that Daryl went with his questioning—it was certainly their main concern these days. "I talked to your work person this morning. Daryl—he was wild captured as a child."
Daryl shrugged.
"So?" He asked.
"So—he's alive. They're not all dead. So when I talked to you know who? She tells me that most of them? They didn't even really know what happened to them. They told us they were dead to keep us from thinking about it, but they could be alive or dead," Carol said.
Daryl looked at her then, his eyes having been on a quick trip around to keep from drawing attention to the fact that they were sharing whispered conversation.
"Your daughter?" He asked. "Sophia?"
Carol nodded.
"Daryl, she could be alive," Carol said, not daring to let her voice get much above a whisper. "She could be—out there somewhere and I don't know where. And I don't know—how to find her. Short of going door to door—I don't know if I could ever find her."
Daryl dropped his eyes down and picked at his sandwich. He shrugged his shoulders.
"She's out there?" he said, "Then we'll find her."
"How, Daryl?" Carol asked.
"They have to have records," Daryl said. "Maybe they ain't looking in the right place. They got records on all of us stretched back to capture. I've been moved around a lot, but still they know every tag number I ever had. You're telling me that they don't keep records on the kids?"
"That's what she said," Carol responded.
"Then maybe she just don't know how to look," Daryl said. "You know Sophia's tag number? You ever heard it?"
Carol nodded her head.
"I heard it when they processed us," Carol said. "They'd already taken her away, but I heard one guard tell it to another. I memorized it. WB639."
"WB?" Daryl asked.
"Wild Born," Carol said.
"You said she was borned before it all happened," Daryl said, some question in his voice.
"She was," Carol said. "But—I guess they got it wrong." Carol's chest caught as soon as the words left her mouth. "Do you think—that they might not have found her records because I told them she wasn't wild born and they were searching for Wild Capture? Do you think—they couldn't find her because she wasn't listed correctly?"
Daryl hummed.
"It's as good a chance as any," Daryl said. "Why don't you—talk to you know who? See if—she can't..." He wiggled his fingers and mimed typing quickly. "Look something up? Do a check? For all the good it'll do. I don't know what good it would do at all. I think—and mind you nobody asked me what I think—that they might've lied just because they got no intention of bringing the kids back what was lost or taken away. What's done is done. Leave it where it is. Figure—they spent all these years in new lives, just let them live the new ones they got."
Carol's stomach clenched.
"I don't want to disrupt Sophia's life," Carol said. "If she's happy? I don't want to be the reason that she's unhappy. But—I do want to know if she has a life. I want—I want to know if she is happy."
Daryl stared at her.
"You just want to know," he said. "One damn way or another."
Carol nodded her head.
"The not knowing will drive me crazy," she said. "It'll kill me."
Daryl shook his head.
"Can't let it do that," he said. "Too damn many things trying to kill you to let it happen from inside your own head. Talk to her. You know who. Ask her to look around. But—if that don't work? We'll find her."
"How?" Carol asked.
Daryl broke his focus on her and looked around them again. He turned his head so that his eyes could take in the full span of everything that was visible from where they sat. He wasn't looking at her when he started to speak again.
"Nothing we can do in here," Daryl said. "Nothing we can do until—we're declared human. Not dangerous. Big Red over there? He looks like he'd like to shoot both of us just for existing. You can bet he ain't the only one. So—right now? We do what the hell we're doing. We show 'em just how good we can be. We show 'em just how human we can be. We focus on us. We focus on the kid we're wanting. We get our freedom. And then? Hell, we'll buy a RV and we'll drive door to door and knock at the door of every damn house in the country, if that's what you want to do. But we'll find her. It just ain't gonna be right now."
Carol's throat felt swollen and she forced herself to swallow around the lump. The food that she was supposed to be eating couldn't look less appetizing if it had fallen in the dirt and gotten stepped on by the angry looking red-headed guard that was watching them.
"I've waited this long," Carol said, "and so has she. I don't suppose waiting a little longer is going to hurt anyone. Especially when I don't even know where to start."
"We'll figure that out too," Daryl assured her. "Don't you worry about that. If she's out there, we'll find her."
"I almost wish I didn't know that it was a lie," Carol said. "I know that makes me sound—like a horrible person but, I almost wish I didn't know that they just don't know anything."
"Maybe that's why they said what they said?" Daryl asked.
"That's what I hear," Carol confirmed. "I thought—not knowing was better than thinking that she was gone. But I'm not sure I was right. I think—I started to let go. And now?"
"You don't got to ever let go," Daryl said. "Even if what they said was true, you don't got to let go. Not all the way. She was your kid. She is your kid. Alive or...or not...she's still your kid."
"We can't say anything to anyone," Carol said. "The lie can't get out."
"My lips are sealed," Daryl confirmed.
"I could tell Michonne and Andrea, though," Carol said. "We know them. We know they'd never tell. They'd never say anything to anyone."
"You wanna tell 'em?" Daryl asked. He went back to eating his food. He was done looking around, pretending that he wasn't paying her attention for the moment. "That what you want to do?"
"I don't know if I should," Carol admitted. "I found out—I can talk to them whenever I want. They have a direct line now to the clinic. But I talked to Michonne and she said that Andrea's—well, she's going to be fine, but she's not doing great right now. I don't know if I even want to tell her. Then she'll just be right where I am now."
"Be stuck in the suffering of the not knowing?" Daryl asked. Carol nodded. "Then don't tell her," Daryl said. "Maybe not right now. There ain't nothing we can do right now anyway that won't get us killed. Maybe—you just don't tell her until there's something we can do."
"And then what?" Carol asked.
Daryl laughed to himself.
"And then we get a bigger ass RV and we put them in the damn thing with us and we all go door to door all over whatever is left of this country and we look for the kids. Hell—if we find 'em? We figure out what we're gonna do then," Daryl said.
Carol smiled to herself. In spite of the way the whole thing made her feel, she couldn't help but smile at Daryl's confidence. Whether it was real or not, it seemed real. He seemed certain that, freedom acquired, the four of them could set out with whatever children the project might give them and—in whatever was left of the country—find the children they'd lost. For Daryl, it seemed to simply be a matter of fact.
"Maybe I won't tell them," Carol said. "Not right now. Not with everything else. I'll wait until we're closer to getting out of here. I'll wait until—Andrea has the baby and we're sure that everything's going to go well with this whole wave project."
"Whatever you think is best," Daryl said.
Carol licked her lips. Whether he meant to or not, Daryl was helping her. She had no idea how he was doing it, and she was pretty sure that it wasn't intentional, but just sitting on the stone bench with him and telling him what she had to say was untying a few of the knots in her stomach.
"Daryl?" She asked. He hummed at her and burrowed in the basket in search of what other food was packed in there. "If we found her? Sophia?" Carol broke off and Daryl looked at her. He hummed at her again, pressing her to continue speaking. She shook her head at him. "I don't even know if she'd remember me," Carol said. "I don't know if she'd want to be with me. Like we said, she might have her own life now. She might not want that life disrupted."
"Yeah," Daryl said, "but I hear a but coming in there so why don't you just come up for air and say what's on your mind? We'll fill in all the rest later."
Carol laughed to herself.
"But what if she did?" Carol asked. "I mean—I know she's almost grown by now and she doesn't really need me. But what if she wanted to come with us? To be..."
Carol broke off again. She almost said "part of our family." It almost slipped out. But her mind stopped her just before she said it and reminded her of how odd it was to think about that. They'd be a family. She and Daryl were deemed mates right now. They were companions when people were being polite. But out there? With their freedom? What would they be? And would they really be parents? Would she be a mother again? A mother to Daryl's child, no less? And if Andrea and Michonne came with them? Would they be part of their family, even though they'd only met one another as prisoners and as hypothetical animals?
Just the word was overwhelming and, for the time being, Carol mentally stepped carefully away from it.
"What if she wanted to be with us?" Carol asked, reshaping her question. "What would that—I mean, how would you feel about that?"
Daryl stared at her and carefully chewed the mouthful of food that he hadn't swallowed yet. He took his time with it, holding her eyes with his, and then he raised an eyebrow at her as soon as he swallowed it down.
"I don't know how you'd want me to feel," he admitted. "But I imagine I'd feel happy that you found her. I'd feel pretty glad that she wanted to stay with us. Probably—feel like we better start talking about our living arrangements because, depending on how many kids we all leave here with, and if T is gonna want to tag along too? That RV is getting tighter than the bunks were. I don't know if that—does that answer your question?"
Carol laughed to herself.
"You wouldn't mind it?" Carol asked.
Daryl smiled at her and shook his head.
"That's a question I do know how to answer," he said. "No. I wouldn't mind it at all. In fact—I'm kinda looking forward to it." Carol nodded at him, feeling her eyes welling up. She tried to swallow back her emotion. Daryl pulled a napkin from the basket and offered it to her in place of a tissue. "Don't cry," he said. "You'll make your sandwich soggy. Besides—you better hurry up and eat. I think Big Red's gonna run us out of here before long."
He wasn't bothered by her crying. He hardly noticed it. The hormones, these days, were making her cry when she didn't understand it herself—so Daryl had given up trying to understand it. They simply had the running agreement that if she was crying for something that she thought he should know about, she'd let him know.
As if to reinforce his suggestion about eating, Daryl lifted her sandwich and offered it to her, almost putting it to her lips like he'd hold it for her to bite. Carol moved to take it and feed herself as the fully capable adult that she was.
"Thank you," she said.
Daryl laughed to himself.
"Not a problem," he said. "If I'd've known you needed it? I would've tried to feed you earlier."
Carol shook her head.
"I wasn't thanking you for the sandwich," Carol said.
Daryl offered her one of his half-smiles. He nodded his head.
"I reckon I knew that too," he said. "Eat your sandwich."
