Chapter 41: January (Part 4)

He was sure, that at any moment, her small, weak body would give up it's fight. That it would accept defeat and let the poor girl drift away. But when the sun rose, and the light spread its way into the room, Sophia was still breathing.

And she was still breathing the next day, and the day after that.

And after waiting to see what would happen. After spending days thinking she was ready to draw her last breath, he felt a sudden surge of adrenaline. He felt a pressure running through his veins, pleading with him to act now, while he still could.

Because he felt like he had been given a chance to fix the mistakes he'd made. He had a chance to at least try and make things right.

"There's still time. You can save her" the familiar voice whispered from across the room.

Fake Carol. That's what he called her in his head. A phantom that had appeared and now hung around, repeating his thoughts out aloud to him. She was useless to him. She had nothing to offer him, not really. No insight, no opinions…because she wasn't real.

But even so, he still didn't want her to leave.

Fred watched him as he moved through the room. As always, the cat stayed by Sophia side, loyal and unwavering. He would head out late at night to hunt and do whatever else it was Fred done, when he was roaming through the woods. But when he returned, he always made his way back to Sophia.

"You don't have to feel guilty Daryl. She'll understand."

"She's gonna' fuckin' hate me." he muttered as he crammed the last of their belongings into the pack.

"She'll be upset. But she won't hate you." Carol quickly promised. "The cat won't survive on the road… he wouldn't stand a chance. You wouldn't be able to keep him with you" She added, with her eyes still caught on the girl.

It was a horrible feeling to take anything away from Sophia, a kid who had near to nothing. All she really had, that she cared about, was the doll that she had been clutching ever since she got sick and the black book that he knew was stuffed under pillow for safe keeping. But those things, though they were a source of entertainment and comfort, they could give her anything back. She could confide in that book, but it never offered any words to Sophia, and she could hold the doll as tightly as she wanted, but it would never hold her back.

Fred on the other hand, cared about Sophia. And why wouldn't he? She had cleaned him up… patched him up… she had that cat looking as though it'd never been left alone in the woods to fend for itself. She wiped the blood stains from his face and patted him, telling him he was a good boy. And Fred soaked up the affection like a sponge, only to return it to Sophia in any way he could.

And that was why she loved Fred. That was why he hadn't made a meal of the fleabag.

"She loves you too." Carol said confidently, interrupting his thoughts. "Just explain it to her… she'll understand"

He grunted in response and kept packing, deciding that he was done with the pointless conversation that he was having only with himself. He didn't have time for anymore of this insanity. Because soon the sun would be up, and he wanted to get moving as soon as possible. He needed as much of the light as he could get.

He needed to get her out of here.

"Can ya' look at me?"

Sophia forced her eyes to open, but he could tell she was barely able to do much more than that. He doubted she was aware of what was happening.

After layering her down with two pairs of pants, he'd sat her on the chair while he put her shoes on and was now working on squeezing her into the black hoodie that she often wore. It usually fit her with ease, but right now, with two sweaters and two shirts already on her, he was struggling to get it on her, without all the other layers bunching up.

The sleeves were always too long. They had been rolled up since the first time she'd put it on, but now he was unrolling them and tucking them around her hands, hoping they'd keep her fingers warm.

"We gotta go, ok? You hearin' me?" he asked firmly, as he finished adjusting the hoodie.

"Hunting" Sophia said with a nod as her body swayed to side.

"I'm ready" she added just as he had to brace her arms to stop her from toppling over.

He sighed and shook his head, before steadying her on the chair and leaning her back. He didn't bother to correct her again, it was a waste of time, so instead he kept working to get her ready.

He'd tried at least three times, to tell her that they were leaving. He'd told her that they needed to go back east, where they'd come from. He explained that he might have a chance of getting her well again, if he was somewhere familiar. But out here, in the middle of nowhere, neither of them stood a chance. But she couldn't focus long enough to hear him.

Slowly he pulled her to feet and held her in place while he gave her a quick once over, before pulling the hood over her head.

"I need-.. my stuff. I need my knives and…" Sophia quietly slurred each word, trying her best, as always, to have him believe that she was doing just fine and was ready for whatever came next.

He nodded in agreement as he snatched her backpack up of the ground and started helping her arms through the straps.

"Ya knives are still the front pocket. Machete's strapped to the side of the bag, right there, like always. And ya gun is right here, whenever ya need it" He added, taking her hand and pressing it into the holster that hung loosely from her waist.

Her bag didn't have much more than that. A few of her clothes were stuffed in there, her doll and book. The rest was crammed in the worn-out pack that he had been lugging around.

"You're too tired for this. You should wait until your more rested. A few more days?"

He shook his head, refusing to meet Carols eyes. "Not tired"

"You are. You can't carry her, all your belongings…the crossbow? Daryl you're not strong enough"

He ignored her and sat Sophia back on the chair, while he swung his crossbow over his shoulder, adding to the weight of the bag that he was already wearing.

This wasn't new. He'd done this before. He'd carried all their stuff, his crossbow and Sophia a hundred times, maybe more. He'd done it when she was sleeping, when she'd hurt her feet, when they'd crossed streams or when Sophia had needed a break and he 'd wanted to keep moving. But never once did he feel like this. He'd never felt so weak.

He lifted her of the chair and let her heavily drop against his chest. Once he had her draped over him, he grabbed his crossbow to sling the strap over his arm. It was then that he stopped and sucked down three deep and quick breaths, trying to prepare himself.

The figment of his imagination was right, and she was shaking her head at him as the realization came over him.

He was too weak, and he had known that. But that didn't mean he was going to stop.

He closed his eyes for a long moment. Then in one painful movement - he tightened his hold on the kid and forced himself to fight against his protesting muscles and stood himself upright.

His lungs ached and his skin was warm. His body was just plain worn out. He'd been out there to long, they both had. She was sick and he was fucking exhausted. They were starving and broken, dirty and hopeless.

But he refused to go out without a fight.

As he walked away from the cabin and left the cat sitting on the porch, watching them leave. He forced himself to keep going. To ignore the guilt building inside of him. Because he didn't have to look back to know that Fred had watched them until they were out of his sight, and he didn't think the cat was stupid enough to think they were coming back. He'd offered the cat one simple word before he'd left it at the cabin, as alone as they'd first found him.

"Sorry".

And he was sorry. He was sorry for leaving the thing behind, he was sorry for hurt the kid was gonna feel when she finally came to. And he was sorry because both Sophia and the cat were going to be lonely without each other, and he was the cause of that sorrow.

Twice he'd had to stop the car. He'd had to pull over because he couldn't think clearly, and he couldn't see straight. Because he couldn't remember when they left, or how long they had been on the road. And both of those times it felt as though he'd blacked out. Both times when he came to, it was clear that time had passed, it was obvious that he had been sitting there with her in the middle of the road, exposed and vulnerable for hours, maybe longer.

And he knew that he had fucked up. He knew that something wasn't right, but he still felt the urge to keep going. He still had that rush of adrenaline in his blood that kept him moving, even though his eyes were begging him to give in and let them close.

"This isn't safe, Daryl"Carol repeated for the fifth time in an hour. And each time she had pestered him, he found himself struggling to clear himself of the phantom that was haunting his thoughts, doubting every step he made. But he couldn't fight them, he couldn't silence them.

"You should have waited. You're being reckless"

"Can you just shut the hell up!" he finally snapped, not being able to contain himself for a minute longer.

It was then that Sophia's eyes fluttered opened. She looked around in confusion, obviously stunned from his voice, but before she could question him, her eyes grew wide and her body grew stiff.

Instinctively she rose up in her seat and looked around the car, then to the back window, before her eyes landed on him.

Only he couldn't bring himself to look at her. He didn't want to face her, but he knew he owed it to her.

He had nothing to offer her. He didn't want to explain his choices to her, like she was some sheltered child who didn't understand the world around her. And he didn't want to tell her to toughen up, because it was an asshole move and he knew it.

She was just a kid and he had taken her away from her only friend.

So instead, he offered her the same word he'd offered Fred when he left him in that cabin.

"I'm sorry" he said, keeping his voice low and glancing in her direction as the words left his mouth. And he was sorry. He was more sorry then he could ever explain.

The girl sat silently staring at him until she slumped back into her seat and sucked back some rough and shallow breaths. Maybe it was because she was sick or because she was trying to keep from crying, he wasn't to sure.

What he did know, was even though she only managed to stay awake for a few minutes, there was a clarity in her eyes that he hadn't seen in weeks. Her body moved with more ease and her skin had more color. The changes may not have been anything remarkable, but they were there all the same.

Every step was agony.

It was as though he was dragging his feet through water, against a tide that was trying to push him down. He could hear his own breaths whistling and scratching down his throat and gurgling into his lungs. He could feel his eyes stinging with exhaustion and his head pound with every step he took.

The weight of her in his arms should have been what killed him, it should have been to much to take, but right now it was the only thing keeping him upright. As long as he had her with him, he would keep going until they got what they needed to survive.

He needed to find food. He needed to find somewhere safe for them hide. Somewhere that he could give in and let this exhaustion take over. He had known this all along. He had known that there were things he needed to do, but he didn't have any clear memory of making these decisions.

He knew he had pulled the car over. But he couldn't remember where exactly and he couldn't remember why he had chosen this spot. He didn't even know how many days he'd been driving around in that car with her.

He remembered wrapping her up in a blanket and carrying her into the wilderness in search of food, but he didn't know how many hours he had been wondering through the woods with her. He looked back the way they had come from, to see if there was any sign of the road he'd wandered from. But as he looked over his shoulder all he could see was the thick cover of trees that surrounded them. As a gust of icy cold winter wind hit his skin he knew he'd made a mistake taking her out of the car.

Finally he could admit that he was to weak. He was to damn tired to be doing any of this right now. But it was to late to be accepting that the voice in his head was right.

He stumbled forward and dropped his crossbow and bag to the ground, giving into his exhaustion as he leaned his back into the trunk of the nearest tree.

He held Sophia close and closed his eyes for a moment, drawing the cold air into his lungs.

He lost himself in his own head while he stood there. His thought blurred, scattered and jumbled into each other. Nothing seemed to make sense.

And as he rested there with his eyes closed, struggling to slow his breathing,…it happened.

He had heard them take their final steps towards him, but he hadn't moved fast enough. He'd heard the ground breaking beneath their feet, the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs, but he'd been to distracted by the haze in his head to react, before it was to late.

The hard blow to the side of his came quickly and it was the last thing he felt before the world around him went dark and disappeared.

Back at the campsite, before all of this happened. Back when he had convinced himself that he could keep them both safe. Carol had told him about the nightmares she'd had. He often wondered, during their separation, if she thought about the reoccurring dream that had once haunted her, those dreams of having everything she cared about being taken from her, until she was left with nothing.

Until she was alone. Like he was right now.

He wondered now, if Carol's arms burned from the emptiness, that her bare skin stung like his did right now. As though, when Sophia was plucked from his arms, he had burst into flames at the same time.

His heart sank right then, because he knew what it must have been like for Carol, and though it had only been for a few seconds, he knew he couldn't stand it a moment more.

She screamed in a way he'd never heard anyone scream before. She screamed out his name, she screamed for help from him and god above, to save her. That sound was what had snapped his eyes open.

It rung in his ears, piercing his brain so that he would never forget the fearful sound. Because he thought he knew what true fear sounded like, until that moment when he realised he knew fuck all.

It wasn't just her cries he would remember, it was the broken sound that scratched out from his chest as he looked over and saw the two men struggling to get a good hold of the kid.

His kid.

He realised that's what Sophia was. His kid. His family. And these men thought they could take the one person he had left, that he loved. They would just rip her from his arms as though it didn't matter how far they had come, how long they had been out here trying to survive.

As he struggled to come to his senses, he watched as one man thought he could simply throw Sophia over his shoulder and he could just walk away with the scared little girl.

But Sophia was not just some scared little girl anymore. It had been a long time since she had covered her ears and closed her eyes. She didn't count away the seconds, hoping the monsters would disappear.

Sophia used everything she had to make sure she made it as hard as she possibly could. She scratched, she kicked, she bit and she thrashed her body around so much that she made it damn near impossible for them to hold her down.

And seeing their hands on her and the frustration on their faces was all he needed to pull him to his feet. He ignored the blood that was running down his face, the aching muscles, the dry pain in his lungs and all the parts of body that begged him to stop, that pleaded with him to give in.

There was no strategy he just jumped on the one closet to him, causing all four of them to be thrown to the dirt.

There was a scuffle of bodies as everyone tried to gain some ground.

Sophia, instinctively, tried to run.

While he started hitting the closest man to him.

The other man used this time, not to help his friend, but to chase down Sophia and drag her back, kicking and screaming wildly, tightly in his arms.

The only plan he had right now was to kill the man that he had on the ground beneath him, as quickly as possible, so that he could go after the other one. All he could do right now was hope that he could move fast enough before the man wrestling Sophia, didn't grown tired of struggling with her.

It all moved so slowly before his eyes, but he knew that in reality, it had all happened in minutes. He had killed the man, he had wrapped his hands around the mans throat and squeezed the life out of him. He'd felt things snap and crumble under his fingers and he'd seen the fear in the mans eyes before it was quickly over. That was when he felt the kick to the side of his head.

There was no time to think. There was no time for him to plan a way out of this. All he knew was that now he was the one on the ground.

He tried to fight the man off him, but he didn't have anything else left to give. Maybe it was because he knew that she free. She could run away now, just like he'd always taught her. She wasn't standing still waiting for him to save her. She knew better then that. She was far from here now and when this man finally finished the beating the life from him, he'd go after Sophia, but he'd never be able to find her.

He watched as the man drew his arm back, ready to strike. But the hit never came.

Suddenly the mans body dropped onto the ground beside him. Lifeless.

He was to out of it to stop her right away. He just watched as the little girl continually smashed the rock into the mans skull. Over and over again.

He stumbled forward on his knees, desperately trying to ignore the pain that radiated through his entire body.

"Soph?" he called. But it didn't stop her.

She didn't stop until he got behind her and dragged her back with him, landing them both on the ground away from the mangled corpse on the ground.

"It's over" he said taking her wrists, causing her her stunned hands to finally drop the bloody rock.

He could only see her tight, bent and shaking fingers. He could only hear her wheezing breaths that came out like cries.

He thought she was to stunned to move. But again he was wrong.

"We-..We need to g- go. Now!" She said in a panic ripping herself from his arms.

"Soph, stop" he pleaded from the ground as he struggled to pull himself up.

But she didn't look him. Instead she started grabbing the men's belonging and theirs.

"He'll turn soon, he'll clean this up. But we need to go before someone comes looking for them" She said quickly in a panic, as she moved around him.

She was right. He knew that. But the way she moved, the fear in her words, they left him lost.

All he could do was follow her orders to check the bodies for supplies or weapons, to help cover their tracks and then finally to leave this god forsaken place.

And when they ran, they ran as though fire burnt under their feet.

He leaned against the bedroom wall, sitting on the dirty and dusty floor.

The dark house was their haven. Their Salvation. But it was where he would would have to face what he'd done to her. The danger he had put her in. The blood on her hands, that he'd put there.

"This is your fault. I told you! You aren't strong enough to have her out here. You should have listened-" Fake-Carol muttered, standing over him.

"I told you to shut-"

"Who are you talkin to" Sophia asked in a quiet whisper, walking into the bedroom.

"No one."he quickly muttered dropping his head. "I wasn't-…"

"I heard you talkin-.. just now, you said-"

Suddenly she stopped and stepped towards him, tilting her head to the side as she approached. She ignored the slight flinch of his face, as she placed her tiny hand on his brow. When he noticed her her whole body freeze, he instinctively reached up and carefully took her wrist to swat her away. But it didn't remove the sudden look of concern that was plastered on her face.

"You're sick" she said carefully, letting her mouth hang open after the words fell out.

"I'm just fine" he snapped, suddenly defensive.

"You're burning up. Your eyes...they're…Daryl you're really sick."

He'd been convincing himself that he was simply tired and that he just needed to sleep. He had told himself over and over, that he would feel better as soon as he was able to get some rest, but in reality he knew that he'd had plenty of sleep. He hadn't been able to help himself, he had been drifting in out of consciousness for days now. He'd been losing track of time, he'd been dazed and confused, but he just didn't want to accept what was happening. Because once it was real, he would have to accept that he couldn't take care of her.

He had to accept it, he couldn't ignore it any longer. And as she looked at him with her wide eyes, examining him with the same focus that she always seemed to muster when she needed, he knew he couldn't bring himself to lie to her either.

And she must have seen the fear lingering in the air around him, because without hesitation she reached forward and covered his hand with hers.

"It's gonna be ok Daryl. It is"