Author's Note:

So I'm alot happier with how this turned out, this is part one of a prompt from sarahnorling, who wanted Carol to find the Cherokee Rose on her grave and to have a run in with a Ghost/Delusion/Angel/Think-What-Ya-Want Sophia, who talks with her about Daryl a bit.
Then when Daryl returns Carol talks to him about it, which will be in the second part.
Reply:
Zombieslayer5- I'm glad someone liked it lol
I still think it could've been improved, but it's only a drabble, so I'll let it be for now.

To those who didn't enjoy last drabble...I think this one is better. Least I hope it is.
Thanks for the faves/follows/feedback! Enjoy and please review!

What You Find There

And there will come a time,
You'll see,
With no more tears.
And love will not break your heart,
But dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there.
After The Storm- Mumford And Sons

It had been over an hour since Daryl and the others had left to rescue Glenn and Maggie.
Judith was asleep in her basket, soundless with the exception of the occasional gurgle. Beth and Hershel where talking in low, hushed voices in their cell while Carl watched over his sister. Axel had watch, and so Carol was alone, sitting at one of the large, round metal tables with nothing but her worries for company.
Carl began rocking Judith, the basket they'd filled with scrap clothing and worn blankets scratching rythmically against the floor as it went back and forth.
Sometime, as she was wondering if they were okay- if he was okay- the walls around her began to close in as her mind ran through all the possibilities, all the ways that she could lose him. The rocking of Judiths basket sped up with her thoughts.
It could be a trap, a way to draw them out and capture them.
A herd could blow through, The Governor could have a ambush planned, Michonne could turn on them, he could be shot, or bit...
She felt her breath speed up, the rise and fall of her chest becoming shaky as she sat on the verge of panic, mind racing.
She clenched her fist, willed herself to get it together. Air, she just needed some air.

Pushing her chair away, she half ran from the cellblock, out into the field, finding herself among the rough crosses that poked out from the lush grass of the hill.
Lori. T-dog. Her friends- family really, after all they'd endured- gone, the only evidence they'd ever existed the splintered wood of their grave markers.
She shook quietly, soft sobbing wracking her chest as she allowed herself to mourn them. There hadn't been time to cry for T-Dog, to thank him and miss him like he deserved. Only time to run, to fight the walkers that had come too close, to hide away from harm, to survive.
Curled up in the corner, back against the cold concrete of the cell, feeling the hope drain from her as the hours ticked past. She hadn't even known Lori was gone.
The woman had become so much like the sister Carol had lost before the apocalypse- forbidden to contact by Ed- and losing felt like a punch in the gut.
Losing them was hard, but she could carry on. She would carry on. But she allowed herself to mourn them first.

She was still crying, though the tears had slowed, when she looked on the ground and noticed that the third cross- her cross- had a small gift beside it.
A Cherokee Rose, white petals only just beginning to wilt, placed just next to the pebble C that identified the graves owner.
She couldn't help but sniffle and smile through the tears on her cheeks. Only Daryl could of left that, could've known what it would mean to her.
Even when he thought she was gone, he cared.
His actions showed it more than words ever could.

She was stroking the flowers soft petals absentmindedly, still smiling as she thought of the redneck and his astonishing gentleness, when he toe of a small sneaker appeared in front of her. She closed her eyes, muttering to herself to calm down, preparing herself for what she was about to see.
It had been a while since the last time she'd appeared, but after a whole winter spent enduring it, Carol was used to the sight.

When she looked back up Sophia was standing there, as healthy and whole as she'd ever been, fidgiting and impatiently kicking her long legs back and forth.
She looked every bit the daughter Carol remembered, from the way she scrunched her freckled little nose to the strawberry blonde hair falling in her eyes.
But Sophia was dead and Carol knew it, would never forget the image of the thing her girl had turned into falling down dead.
Seeing Sophia had been hard at first, forced her to question her sanity. But over the winter she adapted, worked beyond it.
It had been months since the vision had shown itself last.

"What are you doing here?" Carol asked, voice coming out quiet and choked.

Sophia pursed her lips and shrugged her frail, thin shoulders with a sigh. "Nothin' much. Just wanted t' visit and tell ya I'm happy."

That threw Carol for a loop. Usually this Sophia was bitter, accusing and full of blame for her death.

"Happy?"

"Yup." Sophia replied, popping the P, humming a nonsensical melody.

"I don't understand."

Now it was Sophia's turn to look confused, blue eyes wide as dinner plates as she replied. "Cause ya found somebody to love you Ma, for really. Not like how Daddy did...Like the kind where he'd come rescue ya if you were in a tower."

The tears had started to drip down Carol's cheeks. "A tower?"

"Yeah, ya know. Like R'punzel." Sophias face became serious as she spoke, finishing with a nod. "He'll take care of you. That's wha' I always wanted. And I like 'im. Even if he does hurt deers."

"I'm glad you do Sophia baby," Carol spoke, voice barely above a whisper.

"Me too." Sophia glanced behind her, towards the prison, frowning. "Better go back, baby's crying."

Carol turned towards the structure for a second, if even that. But when she turned back Sophia was gone.
Wiping the wetness from her face and drying her eyes with the hem of her shirt, she started back, feeling somehow lighter.
Whether an angel or a delusion, Carol had been able to talk to her little girl, her miracle, one last time.
And she was grateful for it.