A day later, everyone had been gathered at what passed for a cemetery at the edge of the property. They'd burned the bodies of their would-be attackers but Vi and Juliette were laid to rest a few hundred yards beyond the furthest paddock. In two freshly dug graves that paralleled an older one.
It was almost too fitting a place for such a thing, Buffy thought, as the trees drooped around them and tall grass shifted in the breeze. Almost peaceful.
That notion was shattered by the sounds of sniffling coming from one of the girls at the back of the group, next to Carol and Rick and the others from the new additions. Buffy braced herself, remembered why she was here in the first place and began to speak.
"I know what happened yesterday has been hard on everyone. We lost two of our own…and we took over a dozen lives. It should be hard."
She paused, looking far more confident than anyone had a right to be while giving a speech to people who'd just been wallowing in death.
"It should be painful. When it stops being those things is when we stop being who we are and turn into something else." Her voice softened then before she continued. "I know that some of you may be doubting what you've done, but I won't have anyone questioning their actions. You kept each other alive and that's what matters."
The faces looking back at her were dismal, disbelieving, and she understood why. The deaths of Vi and Juliette were a hard blow, but it wasn't only that. The vast majority of those who were gathered in an arc around her had a destiny that literally told them to save people.
To save the world, no less.
If the occupation of being a Slayer had a snazzy brochure it would be written on the front page. She had used it in her welcome speeches to new recruits back when they had a functioning school. Had believed it once herself. Even had it etched into her own tombstone a million years ago.
But now. Now they'd been forced to abandon those ideals in favor of surviving another day. Her heart ached for a time when killing monsters and averting a prophecy was the hardest thing they had to accomplished. How could she make anyone feel less horrified about the fact that they'd all become killers when she was still horrified by it herself.
It was in her job description though, even if the words felt hallow in her mouth she would say them. She would try.
"Vi, Juliette, Willow. They'd want us to keep going. To not let this or anything else make us forget that we still have a purpose here. Now more than ever."
She had wrapped it up with a neat little bow about taking a day to mourn and then getting right back out there and moving on, but she'd be damned if she didn't doubt every word.
How did you move on from something like this. It had been eight months since they lost Willow and she still thought of her every day, still replayed the images of that night in her mind every time she set foot into the main house. Played out a thousand different scenerios in which the outcome could have been different.
Still fought back the guilt that overtook her at what she'd done after. What they'd all done.
For the hundredth time since the world had begun trying to end itself she cursed the powers that be and wished she could hold her liquor. She could really go for a drink right about now.
Carol was running. Faster than her legs should have been able to carry her. Winding through the woods, weaving in and out of trees and brush, only slowing a moment to glance behind her and see the herd of walkers left in her wake.
They were moving just as fast. Closing the distance with a rapid pace and it occurred to her for a moment that this was all wrong. How were they so close? She'd run for miles now, they should be far behind but they only kept coming. Terror jolted through her at the idea of being caught. There were so many now, all blending into each other until she couldn't tell one from the next.
A few faces stood out though. Ones belonging to people she used to know. Who'd been unfortunate enough to cross paths with her and they stared back as they closed in, their proximity pushing her to a ledge that somehow made perfect sense.
She could jump. The space below her was wide and open and while she couldn't see the bottom she knew jumping was a solid option. It would be ok to just step over the edge and drift down.
She could stay. If she rooted to that spot they would overtake her without question. This should have been an easy choice, she thought. Jump. Of course jump. It was the only logical thing but her feet wouldn't move and indecision cost her the chance to choose.
The dead descended on her in waves and she screamed.
"Carol! Wake up, you're dreamin' "
She felt strong hands shaking her shoulders and her eyes flew open, unseeing and vacant and she struggled with a muffled gasp. Still half trapped in the scene that played out in her head she didn't register the voice just yet but could feel the hands trying to hold her down and flailed even harder.
They didn't let go though, only pulled her in tighter and just when she thought it was finally the end, that this was how she was going to go Daryl's words broke though the haze and she stilled.
"It's just me, you're safe. You're all right. Just a nightmare."
Her breaths came out in a cluster of tremors and she clung to him without putting any conscious thought into the action. Wrapping her fingers into his shirt and clawing at his sides. He had her pressed completely against him, no doubt to try and stop her from hurting herself while she was fighting off unseen attackers but he didn't move to let her go. Just clutched her tighter while she wound herself around him.
"I had a dream."
The words were small and quiet and the fact that she was stating the obvious was completely lost on her.
She felt the rumble in his throat before he spoke. "I noticed."
One hand ran the length of her back in a solid but gentle repetition and she felt herself relax against him just slightly. It must have been bad this time. Nightmares were a frequent occurrence but he'd never woken her up prior to tonight. Not even since they'd been living in this place alone together.
Carol suspected the noise kept him awake but he never mentioned it in the morning and she didn't bring it up. How loud had she been that he would push past all the lines they'd drawn for each other, all his own personal boundaries, to drag her out of her own mind and against himself?
She should move. The thought hit her like a freight train and almost caused her to back away but the intent halted before it even began. Maybe it was okay to let this happen. Be selfish just this once.
Still caught in the fog of sleep a decision was made that likely would have been different in the light of day, but here in the dark with traces of a nightmare still fresh in her mind the last thing she wanted was to be alone.
His hand stilled over the back of her neck, thumb rubbing soft circles there and she was done for. Powerless to resist. The feeling of his heart thumping rhythmically against her own chest was the last thing she felt before her eyes slid closed again and she drifted off.
Carol woke the next morning tucked back into her own bed. Alone. That had been a week ago. A day after the massacre and the unexpected funeral that cued up a nightmare strong enough to tear her resolve to shreds.
She made every effort possible to avoid Daryl since then. He had seemed unfazed by the night's events when she saw him later that day, but she was shaken to her core.
In her unfiltered terror she'd let him get too close. Let him see just how much she was unraveling and accepted comfort that hadn't been earned. The only obvious option now was to put more distance between each other, which was hard to do with you lived with someone.
She had been spending the vast majority of her time in the main house now, either baking un-asked for muffins and cookies or doing something valid in the medical area when the need arose.
If he noticed he didn't let on and the fact that he didn't push made her feel like this was the right choice.
Someone else had apparently noticed all too easily though.
"I'm not one to complain about all the yummy goodness coming out of this kitchen lately, but mind if I ask why we have enough cookies to feed a small army?"
Buffy perched on a bar stool on the other side of the counter and eyed Carol while taking a cookie off a high pile.
"Just figured we could use up some of the stuff that's been burning hole in the back of the pantry. Lots of things can blend well and you don't even taste them. "
"Uh huh. I recognize stress baking when I see it."
She stopped her mixing and gave Buffy a level stare. "I don't know what you mean."
"So it has nothing to do with the fact that you've been avoiding your house mate all week?"
She sighed. "How..?"
Buffy just smirked. "Faith. Apparently Daryl has been doing more sulking than usual and Faith was able to drag out something that resembled an explaination from him when they went on that run yesterday, though I'm still not sure how she did it. I'm actually a little afraid to ask."
Carol didn't respond. Just tossed down the mixing spoon and braced her forearms on the counter top. Defeated. He had noticed after all, not that she'd been so deluded to think he hadn't. The familiar weight of guilt pulled at her. He'd been there when she needed him the most and in return she was keeping him at arm's length.
"Hey, I'm not trying to pry. I'm the last person that should be giving relationship advice. To anyone. Ever. My own track record looks like it came out of a bad horror movie. But…there's always a but...maybe talking to him wouldn't be a bad idea?"
"I don't know how."
"Did he do something? Do we need to kick his ass? Because we've got that covered over here, just say the word. Tarred and feathered, maybe even hogtied?"
Carol actually laughed at the thought of Daryl doing anything to her that required an ass kicking as revenge and apparently that was the goal because Buffy had a knowing look on her face as she laughed too. "Yeah, I didn't think so. So what gives? I clearly fail at not prying, I'm just gonna stop fighting it."
The usual urge to brush off her worries as nothing was overwhelmed by the need to talk to someone and she blurted out the words in a rush. They tasted bitter on her tongue and she immediately regretted letting them loose.
"I had a nightmare and he woke me up. Then he held me until I fell asleep again and I let it happen."
Buffy's face turned to mock outrage. "That asshole. I see now why he deserves the cold shoulder."
Carol shook her head. "Sounds ridiculous when you say it like that."
Buffy just shrugged. "I call 'em like I see 'em. Talk to the guy? He's taking this harder than he wants you to know. I'll accept my payment for this impromptu shrink session in cookie form, please."
She scooped up several cookies off the tray and hopped off the bar stool before pausing. "Oh, there was something else I came in here for. We're having a group meeting tonight. Bring your plus one and get ready to brainstorm on how to loot an entire Home Depot without losing any limbs in the process."
Carol's head shot up abruptly at the sudden change of subject, the casual way it was delivered and the prospect of them trying to take a place that was no doubt entirely overrun. "What? Wait, why?"
"All topics of discussion on the agenda. Be there or be square."
And then she was gone, leaving Carol alone in the kitchen to wonder what sort of danger they'd be getting themselves into next.