If Tomorrow Wasn't Such a Long Time

I initially wanted to write this chapter as a one-shot after watching "Arrow on the Doorpost", but through some theory-crafting with a friend of mine, I came upon the conclusion of just incorporating it here. That's mainly the reason this is by far the shortest of my chapters. I find that it flows well into this story and I hope you all enjoy it. I know I had a bunch of feels writing it.

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

Chapter 9

Daryl quickly began feeding bullets into a gun magazine. He let out a long stream of smoke as he took a drag from the cigarette hanging from his lip. He had been glad to find the pack of cigarettes he'd killed on the walker several days before. He had forgotten how the taste of a cigarette could calm the mind. However, his twitchy body was another story altogether. His fingers were fumbling with the bullets. Dropping a few onto his cot as they slipped from his trembling hands. One bounced off the cot and the sound of it rolling on the ground seemed to silence the chaos going on just outside the Prison walls. He quickly took the cigarette between his fingers and knocked the ashes from its tip and put it back to his lips. Time was precious, he had to get ready as quickly as possible.

Daryl quickly picked up the stray bullet and began working it back into the magazine once more. He exhaled another stream of smoke, and removed the cigarette, snubbing it out on the ground. He felt his nerves more relaxed having finished his smoke. He missed the taste of tobacco but being the end of the world, this kind of luxury was simply few and far between. A loud sniper shot went off and Daryl froze. His eyes danced about his cell as he slowly turned his head to make sure the fighting hadn't made its way into the Prison. He could hear his pulse beat rhythmically in his head almost thrumming out the shots popping off in the background.

Daryl chewed the inside of his cheek till it felt raw and tasted of copper. Having spent too much time listening for signs of a push forward, he went back to the task at hand. He finished one magazine and began working on another. He'd already filled both sets of quivers with fresh bolts. He'd spent the night before with a whetstone sharpening his buck knife. Everything had to be ready. Now.

They were going to war. Hell they were already at war. The Governor had caught them with their pants down. The gunshots had startled them, sending them into a panicked frenzy. Glenn had been the one to let them know, hollering and making as much racket as possible. He'd been on watch when the first shot rang out. Rick and Carl had taken off with Glenn outside to try and push them back as quickly as possible. The rest of the group were scrambling trying to help support the others in the front. Daryl had ducked into the Prison as everyone rushed outside. He had one thing he had to do. One thing that must be done.

He'd gathered as much ammunition as he could and filled Carol's bag with several handguns and a sharpened skinning knife he'd found in one of Merle's saddlebags on the chopper. He'd sheathed it into a squirrel skin he had fashioned to keep it from sticking her as she ran. It may not be as large and vicious as the one that hung at his belt but it would have to do. He stuffed his horse blanket into another bag that he'd filled with excess drugs that Carol could use in a bind if it came down to her becoming ill or injured.

Daryl's eyes roved over his cell once, then a second time, and then for a third and final time. He had to ensure that he had everything and anything necessary. Once he had told himself in his head several times that he had everything packed in the bags that was needed, he turned on his heel. Daryl crept into Carol's room where Judith lay asleep in her crib, oblivious to the war going on outside. Pure innocence. He brought his index and middle fingers together to his lips and gently pressed them to her forehead. Judith scrunched her face up as if she disagreed with him, drawing her hands up and clenching her tiny fists, but just as quickly falling back to sleep. He let out a soft chuckle, whispering, "Be good fer Carol, Asskicker."

Daryl tipped his head at the sleeping babe and slung his quiver and crossbow to his shoulder, picking up the bags he'd set on Carol's cot. He quickly grabbed the burgundy wrap that hung draped over the top bunk and threw it over his shoulder. He was headed down the steps of his perch, when Carol had run into the block panting, a rifle strapped to her shoulder. Her hair plastered to her scalp due to the heat and stress of the bullets hailing around them.

"What are you doing Daryl?" She asked panicked that he could even think of leaving during all the commotion outside.

Daryl quickly grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved the bags into her hands. "Listen ta me. Take Asskicker and take care o' her. Stay inside the prison as long as you have to."

"What are you talking about? We need everyone out there." She insisted, pointing towards the way she came.

Daryl shook his head firmly. "No. Carol, I don't want you out there. If shit goes South, I need you to be able to protect her." He snapped at her. "Son of a bitch caught us with our britches down. There's no time left."

"Daryl, I can't do that." Whispered Carol, her mouth falling open at the thought of leaving everyone behind with Judith.

"Yeah ya can and yer gonna HAVE to. We ain't losin' Asskicker. Look at me, I can signal you." Daryl caught her chin and forced her to look at him. Carol slowly made eye contact, her big blue eyes full of concern and fear. He began to whistle a call that echoed loud off the Prison walls. "Hear that and you get the hell outta here, got it?"

She furrowed her brow in confusion. "I can't just leave without you guys!"

Daryl snorted at her and snapped, "Just take my word and go when I use that call."

Carol's eyes shifted to the ground. She wasn't sure if she could do everything Daryl asked. What he asked of her was so much more than what she could handle. She had become strong over the course of the year, but what Daryl was asking she felt was just out of her comfort zone. She had always relied on him for support, but here he was asking HER for support in this crisis. Carol was going to be on her own if the fighting made its way into the prison. Daryl jerked her shoulder drawing her attention back to him, barking her name.

"Hey! Focus. Can't explain this again. Remember where we camped our first night off the farm? Once I give that call, head there. I've already put a map in yer bag. Use that and make yer way there."

Carol looked into Daryl's eyes. His blue gaze was stoic, but he would be lying if he didn't admit he was scared. She could see the crease in his brow and the gray whiskers that peppered his stubbled chin. The hollows of his eyes were deep and the scar beneath his eye still visibly pink with new skin healing over. The world had gone to shit and everyone had forgotten about Judith except Daryl. He really was a gentle man when it came down to it all. Caring for others, placing them before himself.

Outside they could faintly hear Rick and Glenn calling for them. Daryl gnashed his teeth. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage; the pace was unrelenting. The sounds of gunfire sounded closer. The Governor and his men were literally at their doorstep and here Daryl and Carol were standing and staring at each other, wasting time. Judith was now screaming in the background while bullets could be heard zipping and tearing apart the prison walls. Noise enveloping them, telling every fibers in their bodies to get out. Carol finally pulled the bags from Daryl's hands, their fingers brushing for a moment.

Daryl let out an exasperated sigh as he helped her position the wrap around her chest so she could hold Judith and the bags at the same time. He took the rifle as she grabbed the bags and threw them over her shoulders. Carol grunted at the weight she'd been given and took the rifle back from him.

"Here," Daryl drawled as he handed Carol her Smith and Wesson. "It's hot."

Carol looked at Daryl, a gasp escaping her lips. He looked back at her. She thought she had lost it in the tombs when the walkers had been let loose into the Prison. Daryl motioned for her to take the revolver from him. Carol had to take it. There were no do-overs if things got crazy and they would. She hesitantly took the gun and put it into the holster at her hip.

"Take care of yerselves." He said, gently touching her shoulder. Daryl could feel himself shake, his breaths were in short bursts. He couldn't deny that he was terrified for her or himself, but he had to be strong for what was about to happen. He couldn't fall apart in fear of the unknown. And this certainly was unknown.

"Stay safe, please." She managed to choke out. The words had stuck to her throat. Carol felt that her saying such words were the same as putting a gun to his head and saying good-bye. It was final. She nodded her head at him, sucking her lip in to hold in her fear; her farewell. Carol turned and started to make her way up the stairs.

Daryl felt his heart tighten in his chest as he watched her go; the muscles constricting around his heart and making it impossible to breathe. The events of the night before playing over and over in his head. He could have told her, but he didn't. She said it but he didn't. He had tucked tail and ran like a scared child the moment she had uttered those words and he felt like a genuine asshole. Carol was giving him herself, but he just couldn't accept it. He had denied her affections in that single moment and here they were. Death's rattling breath against their necks and he had refused to admit the one thing he knew to be true.

"I'm glad you're back... Until you found me..." Her words echoed in his brain, rattling around like a noise you couldn't simply ignore. These were words he wouldn't ignore. Not now. Not this moment. She had meant them.

His fingers fidgeted at his hips. He scowled, uttering a string of curses under his breath. "Carol." He finally barked.

Without realizing what Daryl was doing, he rushed towards her. He let his body move on its own. He grabbed Carol spinning her to face him. Daryl pawed her face in his hands and crushed his lips to hers in a rough kiss. His calloused fingers caressing her cheek as they slowly crept into her cropped hair. She relaxed as he slowed down, sighing back into his mouth.

If this was the last time he would ever see her... the last time he would ever have a moment to hold her, to make her feel needed, to show that he cared, that in his heart he loved her, it had to be now.

At first Carol's eyes had widened at Daryl's abrupt kiss with his chapped lips and prickly beard rubbing, but she quickly shut her eyes enjoying this single moment. She could taste the nicotine on his lips. Carol could hear her heart pounding in her ears, her fingers trembling as she placed a hand to his chest. She could feel the rapid beat of his drumming heart against the palm of her hand, sweat seeping through his shirt. Carol clutched his shirt tightly in her fingers, tears marking their way down her dirt-stained pallid cheeks.

"Please, don't leave me." She whispered as she drew her mouth from his lips, pressing her forehead against his. She dared not open her eyes. She couldn't bare to look him in the eye. She wouldn't, couldn't let him go if she did. "I need you, Daryl. I can't do this on my own."

"I'm sorry, but yer gonna have to..." He replied in a hoarse whisper. Voice scratchy like sandpaper in her ears. She could feel his hot breath on her lips and she wished she had more time with him. Carol wished she didn't have to rush perhaps their last moment together.

A door flew open and the outside world flooded inside the Prison. Screaming from people, walkers, bullets? Did it matter? Everyone was the same. A mass of flesh and blood. No one was safe. She opened her eyes and saw the fear and rage fill his gaze. Daryl tore away from Carol and shoved her towards his perch.

"Go!" He yelled. "Git Judith! Carol! Go!"

With those last words, Daryl puffed his cheeks and drew his crossbow to his shoulder running towards the noise and out of the block. The last bit she saw of Daryl was the clipping of his sewn angel wings on the back of his leather vest and a quick glance he'd thrown over his shoulder. Carol could hear the thudding noise of bodies falling to the ground and the door shut once more with a sickening slam. Silence encompassed the space between her and Daryl's absence.

Carol hurried up the steps and picked up Judith. She'd been screaming for what seemed like hours, but had only been a minute in recollection. Everything happened so fast. It was impossible to figure out how long Daryl had left her in the cell block. She cooed softly and bounced Judith in her arms, bags still slung on her shoulders.

The call. It echoed loud.

Carol felt her heart sink, as if the blood had run from her veins, and she felt like she needed to heave. She was crying again. She clamped a hand to her mouth, cradling Judith with one arm. She could feel her knees start to buckle and she grabbed for the bunk bar. Carol shook the feeling off, frantically wiping her eyes dry. There was no time to fall apart. She had to get moving. Gently Carol put Judith in the wrap at her chest. She fit perfectly.

Quickly she drew her handgun, pulling the hammer back. As quietly as she could, Carol crept down the stairs and out of the Prison. Never stealing a glance back. If she did, she knew she would never have the courage to leave. There was no turning back. Hell or high water she had to leave everyone behind. Even Daryl.