If Tomorrow Wasn't Such a Long Time

Yes! Finally deviating away from the TV show. After watching Episode 10, I was thoroughly happy with the way things played out. And was even more ecstatic that my idea wasn't the same as how the show happened. So kudos to that. I won't give away my idea, but fingers-crossed that I can get my idea out. Or at the very least establish my plot design to get these two together after so many chapters. These two are so complicated and I love it. Also I have changed the set up of events that occur too, so keep that in mind while reading.

Also: I own nothing in regards to The Walking Dead. All rights belong to the copyright holder.

Chapter 5

Carol clenched her jaw shut. She frantically cupped her hand to her forehead as she looked through the tinted windows of the green SUV trying to block out the harsh Georgia sun from obstructing her view. Glenn and Michonne sat in the back worse for wear. Maggie had moved to the driver's seat and was getting ready to drive the car up to the prison yard. Rick was already out of the car and on a direct path to her.

"Where's Daryl?" She asked trying to withhold her urgency. Carol had to know.

"Alive. He found Merle. They went on their way."

Carol blinked back her tears. She bit her lip, barely managing to ask, "So he's gone?"

Rick looked to his boots, fingers hooked into his belt loops. He nodded and hesitantly glanced at her. He could see the crushed look on her face. She stifled her sob and made her way off the path. Rick tried to put a reassuring hand to her shoulder, but Carol vehemently jerked away from his comforting advance. He followed, catching up quickly with her pace, grabbing her arm and pulling Carol into an embrace. She relented and hugged him back, letting out small sobs. Rick quietly ran his fingers through her cropped hair, trying to soothe her, instinctively kissing her forehead and whispering, "It's OK. Daryl will be fine." All the while, Rick rocked back and forth with Carol in his arms.

Rick's eyes raced back and forth. Everything was falling apart before him. It was different having one of your own leave of their own accord. It was always death that they made their way out; never something a person sanely chose to do. Daryl leaving as he had seemed so much worse. Rick had seen the look in Daryl's eyes as he cast one last glance behind his shoulder to see the people he was leaving behind. Carol and Rick both understood though: Daryl had obligations to uphold. Merle was his kin. The only other person he had left in this world. For the past year, from what he had known, he was alone. Daryl had no clue that Merle was still alive. He had just accepted the idea that Merle had been lost and would rather let it be that way than believing he was somewhere dead in a ditch. Now that Merle was alive, Daryl wasn't going to lose that kinship for a second time.

Carol sucked in her lip, trying to withhold her sobs, and somberly let go of Rick. This couldn't be any easier for him. He had already lost Lori and now the last little bit of a support system he had was gone. As much as Daryl had denied that he had a place in their ragtag family, they desperately needed him. They were definitely going to feel it.

Carol lay in her bunk staring at the horse blanket that lay bundled with the things Daryl had left behind on the floor. She'd moved everything from his perch and into her cell. Lori's things had been ruefully shoved underneath the bunk. She felt it would be cruel to leave her things out in the open for Carl and Rick to see. They had already suffered enough. Daryl's things, on the other hand, she didn't have the heart to hide. It pained her to even collect them.

She'd folded what articles of clothing Daryl had left behind neatly in his bags. They had been methodically folded in a particular way already, but she felt that she needed to fold them anyway. Carol was surprised that his clothes had even been folded at all. She didn't wash Daryl's clothes. No. She refused to do that. Carol wanted to keep his scent close. If she washed his clothes, they would just be regular, ordinary mens clothes. She didn't want to erase the last little bit of Daryl that was left in the prison.

Carol felt like she was in mourning. Keeping his things and refusing to clean them, it sounded crazy the more she thought about it in her head. But no, that wasn't it at all. This was much deeper than that. Daryl wasn't dead. He was alive and out in the open with no shelter and only a handful of bolts left to defend himself with.

Sure, he was with Merle, but how long would it be before they were outnumbered and outmatched by a horde of walkers? Merle from what she knew had cut off his own hand so he was rather limited in his defensive capabilities. Daryl wouldn't use a gun unless he knew the noise wouldn't attract anymore than there already were. His crossbow took time to reload and to swap another bolt and load it could waste precious time he didn't have. But he had his large buck knife. That would help him in close situations, but... What if in that moment he was getting swarmed with too many to handle at once? Daryl was only one man. He wasn't invincible as she had stated that last day she had spoken to him.

They had argued in the prison yard but it was nothing to hold a grudge over or be bitter about. Both Carol and Daryl had made their points clear and without really saying anything they had established that they cared about the well-being of the other. She knew that when he had told her to stay safe, what he really was telling her was: I care. And that gentle touch at her shoulder. He had said all that he had meant in that one brief physical contact.

It surprised her that he had even reached out and touched her in that manner. For someone so afraid of physical proximity, that had been something beyond his own natural comfort zone. She had smiled then as she was doing so right that second in the dark. Daryl had given her one last glance over his shoulder and that had been the last she had seen of him; a crooked tug at the corner of his lip and glean of his blue eyes under his messy crop of hair as he walked away.

Carol tightly shut her eyes. Daryl had only been gone a few days, yet it seemed like weeks. She shivered in bed, the thin sheet wrapped tightly around her body. As hot as it could get in the day, the cold Georgia nights bit into her flesh like knives within the prison. Her gaze fell to Daryl's blanket. The bright pattern stood out amongst the gloomy blue of the prison walls. Carol threw herself off the bed and snatched the blanket up, wrapping herself in it. The way she had grabbed for it seemed like at any moment the blanket would just disappear before her.

She remembered the night she'd been sitting by the fire and he'd given her the blanket. Carol didn't really expect him to offer it up as quickly as he had or at all for the matter. It just seemed second-nature to him the way he had so nonchalantly pulled it from his quiver and gestured for her to drape it around her shoulders. Carol stifled a laugh as she recalled the irritation cross his features as she had sat dumbfounded by his kindness. He gave her this look that said: take the stupid thing or else.

Carol clutched her chest. She felt like her breath had been stolen from her lungs. Her eyebrows furrowed in pain. It hurt so much not knowing if he was doing all right out in the woods. She swore under her breath and gripped the blanket in her hands.

"Damn you, Daryl." She whispered.

Carol saw the graves from the binoculars of the guard tower. She had taken guard duty with Axel. He had chattered away half the afternoon about his life, the things he had done before prison, the things he did while in prison, and things he wanted to do now that he was a free man. Carol had idly listened while scanning the horizon hoping to see the flicker of orange and yellow from a crossbow bolt. She hoped she would see Daryl trudging back to the prison, crossbow slung over his shoulder and backpack strapped to his back with squirrel or possum skins clinging to his belt.

Daryl never stumbled out of the tree line.

"You follow me?" Asked Axel as he gently shook her shoulder.

Carol jerkily nodded in agreement.

"I can shut up if you want. You seem like you've got somethin' on yer mind." He replied.

Carol feebly smiled. "You could say that."

Axel ran his fingers along his mustache, brushing the stray whiskers back in place "Was it that redneck fellow? Ya know, that one with the bike?"

Carol smiled weakly. "He's a dear friend of mine. I just hope he's all right out there."

Axel paused for a second before responding to Carol. "Fellers like him won't die so easily. Put up a fight, ya know. A snarl of fisticuffs and cussing till they're put in their grave."

A soft rap at the door interrupted their conversation. Carl and Maggie came through the door indicating their shift was over. Axel ushered Carol out first with a gentlemanly curtsy. Carol rolled her eyes and went down the stairs anyway. Axel started chattering again. The man could talk. He seemed to have a story for everything. She supposed this a change compared to the quiet that usually encompassed the prison.

Carol stepped out of the guard tower base. Axel stood next to her. "I'm going to take a walk." She said.

"Where we walking to?" He quickly asked, clapping his hands together.

Carol quirked an eyebrow at him. "I said 'I' was going to go for walk. I'd like time for myself if you don't mind. It's nothing personal."

"Oh! I understand, m'am. I follow ya. I'll just go back to the yard. You sure you don't..." Carol arched her eyebrow at him to indicate there would be no debating the issue. Axel threw his hands up and quickly replied, "Fair enough."

He made his way back to the prison, occasionally glancing back at her. Carol stifled a chuckle. Axel seemed a puppy dog with her. It was comforting but at the same time so suffocatingly annoying. When Axel was out of view Carol made her way the graves she had spied in the binoculars. With all the hustle and bustle of the previous days' events, she had yet to really meander beyond the prison yard. She was curious to see for whom the graves were for.

As Carol got closer to the graves she noticed that there weren't just two marked graves as she had assumed would be sitting there, but three. For whom else had they made a grave for? Had they made one for her? Her assumption was confirmed when she saw the stoney "C" imbedded into the final grave of the row. There had been an "L" and a "T" made for their other group mates. It was rather unnerving seeing her grave with the cross and... the flower?

Carol hesitated as she went to kneel next to her grave. Her fingers gently brushed the dirt off the white petals of the Cherokee rose that lay in the middle of the stones. Her hand flew to her mouth and she choked back her sobbing. Why did he do this to her? She picked up the flower and hugged it to her chest.

The morning was filled with tension. They'd found out that walkers had been in the barn, but nothing could be done about it. They were guests on Hershel's land and he had insisted on handling their walker situation. Shane had been the one to urge the group to deal with it now or leave for Fort Benning like they had initially planned.

They couldn't just leave. Sophia was still out there. Shane had stifled a manic chuckle at her mention of staying.

Daryl stepped in. He was defending her. Perhaps defending himself too since he was at the helm of the search. Carol was grateful for him in that moment. She needed an ally in that moment. Carol understood that the first 48 hours were crucial to finding a missing child, Shane had told her that numerous times as if the more he said it the more she would stop hassling them over finding Sophia. But she had people out in the Georgia woods combing through brush trying to find her. She had Daryl searching for her. He was an expert tracker. He'd managed to find Sophia's doll, which was more than Rick or Shane could say they'd found to offer in hope of her safe return.

In seconds, it was like two snarling wolves and Carol was removed from her thoughts. Daryl and Shane were trying to get at each other. Words had been exchanged. Shane must have said something to anger Daryl or else he wouldn't have been keen on getting at him in the first place. Rick and Andrea had stepped in to put distance between the two. Carol reached out and touched Daryl's arm trying to reiterate to step back. He shirked away her touch trying to lunge himself closer. Shane was still fired up and snapped at Lori who had then put a hand to his chest to prevent him from getting any closer to Rick, whom was still trying to push Daryl away.

Sensing that nothing would be resolved, Daryl glared at Shane as he backed away, relenting for the time being. He stormed off in a huff leaving the group to collect their thoughts and find a compromise on the barn situation. Carol had watched as Daryl clutched at his side. He must have strained himself trying to maneuver around the arms and hands keeping him from launching himself at Shane. She had followed after him wanting to make sure he was OK. For someone as injured as himself, he moved fast; you would never know he was hurt if he didn't wince in pain occasionally.

Carol had seen Daryl stalk into the stalls, throwing open the shed to grab a saddle. Seen how he had fumbled with it and sluggishly made his way towards the stalls to ready a horse. He was on his way to search for Sophia again. Carol couldn't allow Daryl to risk his life anymore than he already had. Daryl had already hurt himself trying to find the only real piece of hard evidence since her disappearance.

Carol followed after him. Saw as he swore under his breath as he tossed the saddle onto the hitch.

"You need to rest. You're going to get hurt again."

"Yeah, well I don't care." Daryl grunted as he grabbed the bit and reigns, trying to fasten it to the horse. The horse's ears wiggled about hassling Daryl as he tried to get the reign over the appendages. The horse hooved the ground in discontent, snorting at Daryl. Carol could hear Daryl "hmph" in protest at the horse as he finally slid the reigns over its ears.

"We don't know if we're going to find her, Daryl."

Carol could feel the blood run from her veins. A chill flew down her spine. She hadn't been sure if she could actually loose the words from her lips, but she did. Admitting this to herself cut a hole into her chest and she could feel herself begin to cry. Shane's words were clinging in her head and it made her believe all the more that their search was futile. That Sophia was just a lost cause.

Carol watched as Daryl stopped what he had been doing. She could see the wheels spinning in his head. Hell, she could feel his eyes burn into her through the back of his skull and she knew she'd struck some kind of chord within him. He removed the bridle from the horse and turned on his heel. His eyes narrowed at her and she could feel his cold stare. The way Daryl looked at her made her cringe and sent a pain through her. Made her feel bad for saying the things she was saying. Carol wasn't sure but she thought she saw a look of pain in his expression. Couldn't tell if it was from his freshly stitched side or if what she had said just then had bothered him.

"I can't lose you too." She uttered.

The corner of his eye twitched. Daryl wasn't quite sure what to think of Carol's statement. He had never been told something like that. It bothered him that she felt so comfortable to say something that was meant for people that mattered. Daryl didn't believe she could care for him. She may have made him feel needed because he was searching for her daughter, but it was because she needed him to find her. So she could feel whole again. Like her world wasn't crashing down on her.

Daryl knew what it was like to be in Sophia's place; he had been lost once. No one had gone searching for him. Perhaps he found purpose in searching for Sophia because he was still lost in the woods himself: a scared little boy. Daryl didn't know. He, himself, could not wrap his own head around his determination to find the girl. What he knew now was that he was furious at the woman that stood before him. Angry that she would shrug off the effort he had already put into searching for her daughter. Hurt that she was giving up hope so easily like everyone else had. He didn't understand how she could so easily believe what the others thought about the search. No one had even offered as much of themselves to finding Sophia as he had.

The more Daryl thought about what had transpired the more he became angry and spiteful. Daryl started chewing the inside of his cheeks, brows furrowed, eyes set in slats at her. She could feel the daggers aimed at her. He grabbed the saddle and chucked it as far as could. He grunted in pain as he doubled over. Carol darted for him to see if he was all right but he had swatted her away almost hitting her in the process and barked to leave him alone. Carol had backed off and watched as he staggered out of the horse stalls and out of sight.

Carol couldn't understand why he was so determined to find her daughter. What was it that drove him to want to find her so badly? Why had he gotten so upset over her posing the possibility that Sophia wasn't going to be found? What was wrong in thinking that? Daryl didn't owe her anything. He had no ties to her. What was his motivation?

Carol wandered around aimlessly left to her thoughts. She'd think back to the moment the herd had come and ambled past them as they hid under the cars. She wondered if she could have changed anything about that day. Maybe if Lori hadn't been clamping her mouth shut and she had made enough racket the walkers would have come after her rather than her little girl. She may have been able to draw them away and towards the group where they had weapons and could easily dispose of the two walkers. But Carol had stayed trapped under the car and Lori held a firm hand to her mouth. Rick had been the only one to take off after her. The last she had seen of Sophia was a panic-stricken plea for help.

Carol stopped, closed her eyes and held herself. Her nails dug moon crested shapes into her shoulders as she tried to keep herself from placing blame on herself for not being stronger. Was losing Sophia her punishment for wishing Ed's death? Even after all the years of being hit and kept away from everyone, the one and only thing she had ever cared about more than herself had to be stolen from her? Carol's fingers flew to the tiny cross at her chest, the chain cool beneath her skin. Her thumb rubbed over it as she held it in comfort. She was alone. Ed was gone. She had been thankful for that. But Sophia? She was just a child. This new world would eat her alive.

"Hey." Called Daryl. Carol hadn't noticed him till he had hobbled towards her, still trying to get his boots on all the way. His pant legs were wet as if he had been dipping his feet in the lake nearby. Carol hadn't realized that she had wandered so near the lake dock.

"C'mere, wanna show you somethin'," he said and motioned for Carol to follow after. She quirked an eyebrow at him unsure of his sudden change of attitude. They'd had an argument no more than an hour ago and already his demeanor had changed. Carol followed anyway. If he had something worth showing her, Daryl meant it. No reason he would drag her any further into the woods if there wasn't a purpose.

"Ya see 'em?" Daryl asked as he pointed to the white petals masked by the thick green brush.

They stopped and Carol saw what he had been gesturing to: Cherokee Roses. Carol reached out and rubbed one of the soft petals beneath her fingers.

"I'll find her." He said, his tone soft and even, but firm.

Carol looked up at him. "How do you know that? You heard what Shane sai-"

Daryl's gaze stopped her mid sentence. He didn't look directly at her. His head was cocked and he looked at her from an angle not quite making eye contact. His expression was hard, but there was a gentleness to his tone as he spoke.

"Because I believe she's still out there." The corners of Daryl's lips ever so slightly tugged up. It was such a small thin-lipped smile that he offered in consolation, if you blinked you missed it. Carol had caught this and felt a reassuring warmth wash over her. If he believed he was on route to finding Sophia, then she believed he would, too.

"We'll find her, Daryl." She said and let go of the rose petal.

Carol pulled the dried out flower away from her chest. She blew the dust that covered its white petals and gently set it back in the middle of the "C". She smoothed out the gravel around the marker, straightened out the cross that stood a little lopsided. It was a little unnerving tending to her own grave. But how could they have know she was still alive that day? All they knew was that she had been with T-Dog and he had been killed trying to protect her.

Carol sat for a while staring at her grave. She wondered if anyone else besides Daryl had come to visit. Didn't seem so. Out of sight and out of mind, she supposed. Her grave seemed to be the only one regularly tended to. Daryl was likely the one to do that. She could faintly see the imprint of his boots nearest her grave. Carol sighed in exasperation. Why did he make her hurt like this? If Daryl ever came back she was going to slug him for making her care so much about him.

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed it! Please read and review. Thanks!