Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from TWD comic book or AMC's show, I wish I did; I bake myself a chocolate cake every night just so I can blow out birthday candles and cross my fingers wishing; but sadly no...they still don't belong to me. Bummer. It's damn good cake though. :D

Notes: This is Technically Sunday's update but turns out my plans for tomorrow might interfere with posting so I decided to just play it safe and put chapters 7 and 8 up today :)

Thanks to all the readers out there! You guys are awesome and make me feel super! Seriously every review makes me smile like a goof ball, my husband is starting to think I'm on medication...or that I need some... heh. XD

Thanks as every to my beta of awesome; Angelinaa who works hard to prevent you guys from being plagued by eye twitches at the typos... Any mistakes left below are completely my fault. I probably got too distracted thinking about Daryl Dixon to fix them! : P

Italics in this Chapter denote thoughts (as per usual in my writing) and also the contents of the letter! *cue dramatic music or whatnot*

Chapter Seven

(Daryl's POV)

"Rick! Rick!"

Maggie isn't yelling for him, but there is no way Daryl's not going to jump up too; race to the ladder and climb to the roof right on his friend's heels. Barely awake or not Maggie's tone is tight as she calls down to them from the roof where she and Glenn were on watch the night before. Carol and Michonne finally convincing Daryl and Rick both to get at least one night of sleep; after four days running on fumes it was a request his exhausted body was finally capable of giving into. Though the few hours of dead-to-the-world-sleep have left him feeling groggy as shit this morning.

He frowns the second he reaches the rooftop; amending his previous train of thought: Glenn and Maggie were Supposed to be on watch. Though it's pretty obvious to everyone they couldn't have been watching that hard to just catch something like this after Maggie points her arm over the half-wall down towards the lot indicating to them both that whatever she called them up here for is actually down there.

And it can't be Walkers because she wouldn't yell like that; unless it was a herd like they saw on the road that day… even that crowd could probably tear the warehouse doors down concrete block or not…

But it's not Walkers.

It's two words.

Written in bold block letters across the back windscreen of one of the vehicles parked in the lot. The one angled almost perfectly to face them; insuring that whoever was on watch this morning could read it as soon as the sun was up enough to offer the light… wouldn't miss it no matter how distracted by making out or whatever the Hell it is they do on watch together.

Just Two Words:

I'M SORRY

Rick snarls at Glenn and Maggie both, lips curled back in outrage.

"HOW could you miss that?!"

It's the first hint they've had in days. Glenn stammers and Maggie looks completely stricken.

"Rick it was new moon last night." Carol's calm soothing voice interjects from right behind his back. He didn't even hear her come up behind him.

Shit, he needs more sleep, he needs to focus.

He stares at Rick squinting in the early rays of sunlight, grateful that at least the rooftop isn't roasting yet while Carol continues unbothered by the glare Rick shoots her. "There was barely enough light to see your nose on your face out here, let alone all the way down there."

Much as he hates it; Carol's right. Because if she left the message, she would have factored that in; chosen last night specifically to come here without any moonlight so she could slip in and back out unnoticed.

She's damn good at being invisible. He might have missed it had he been on the roof last night; and not just because he was dead on his feet with exhaustion.

"She's right." His voice feels like sandpaper in his throat; he clears it; Carol and everyone else glancing at him, he's barely spoken in days he realizes…hasn't had much to say since that night…

Rick glares over his shoulder at him, hands pressed to the wall face pulled into hard lines when he turns back to stare at the message she left them.

"Should we go down there?" Glenn is looking at him, not at Rick; nobody quite certain how the other man is going to take this.

I'm sorry could mean so many things;

I'm sorry I left…

I'm sorry I didn't tell you…

I'm sorry he died.

There's got to be more to it then that.

There's only one way to find out.

He hefts his crossbow strap over his shoulder, moving toward the ladder. Rick following on his heels silently fuming his hands clenched at his sides.

"Aint their fault." He catches Rick's eyes over the railing nearly level with him as he turns, starts climbing down.

Rick scowls at him for a moment, jaw clenching before he offers a tight. "Yeah, I know."

Rick is distraught, but not verging on insanity. It's the best he could hope for days ago when this all started.

He's pretty sure they have Michonne to thank for pulling Rick back from the edge this time. He's heard them talking quietly especially last night. He tries not to catch the nearly imperceptible whispers passing between them when she stands close to him during the day. Their heads leaned in while everyone else tries to look away… offer them privacy to mourn or whatever it is their doing…

Nobody looks at Rick, or they all try not to. But they stare in some kind of stupefied awe at him every chance they get; their glances always jerking away when he catches them.

Glenn made the mistake of asking him two days ago how he really couldn't know what she could do; he nearly gave him a black eye but Carol was watching, scowling at him; reminding him not to hurt his friends no matter how much pain them bringing her up causes, even mentioning her name brings…

That was the real problem with sleeping upstairs in her old room now; where he's lain for the few brief snatches of sleep he caught the previous four days; the fatigue driven thankfully dreamless night he got jolted from just moments before coming out here…he hasn't been downstairs in days.

He can't bring himself to even touch their bed; let alone lie in it. He's made that mistake once before; fighting for sleep without her is torture.

The bed upstairs is hers to…or was… but they were never in it. There's no memories pressed to those sheets. The scent of her skin doesn't pull at him; there's no faint fragrance of her shampoo on the pillow haunting him when his eyes close.

But there are words through the thin walls.

He ignores them best he can; buries them away thinking of other things—anything other than her when he hears them all talking at different times, different voices; but always about the same damn thing.

Her.

Michonne has joined them in the lot with Carol and Glenn and Maggie too by the time they reach the car. Daryl circles it carefully while Rick stands stone still against the pavement mulling over the words silently in the early morning light.

Dew beads on the glass, but hasn't made the paint run; it's long since dried… she's long gone.

The fluttering plastic edge under the front wiper of the same car draws his eye. His name is clearly written on the white paper folded square tucked inside safe from the elements. His heart pounds in his chest, stomach knots with at what he's about to read even as he clenches his jaw; lifts the wiper and pulls the plastic bag loose.

Rick is still staring at the letters on the rear wind screen. But Carol at least has noticed what he has; Glenn and Maggie too judging by their darting glances.

Carol catches his eye silently asking him if he's going to open it here.

He could slip it into his pocket before Rick can see it. Carol obviously realizes who it's from; and God only knows what might be in it…it's addressed to him personally judging by the name scrawled across the top…but Rick will no doubt want to know what it says since his son is still missing.

His fingers pinch white knuckled over the flimsy material containing answers that he's not sure they're ready to hear torn with indecision.

When he looks up again Rick is staring at him. "Is that…"

He doesn't answer just opens the plastic bag and pulls the folded paper out. It's two pages he realizes in neat fine print.

His eyes take in the first words and he's instantly relieved that he can read them aloud to Rick now, that he can ease the man's pain at least somewhat.

"He's Alive, Carl is alive."

Rick all but deflates at the words, his back bowing, and air rushing from him in a strangled sob of relief he chokes back. He raises his palm to cover his mouth drawing in a tight breath presses his thumb and forefinger to his eyes taking a moment while Daryl waits and Michonne clasps her hand to Rick's shoulder steadying him, before nodding at Daryl to continue.

He waits a moment more for Rick to nod to him too and then reads on aloud his voice feeling rough, tight a combination of ill-use the last few days and the gut-wrenching-content in his hand.

"I can't say I'm sorry for what I did; because I'm not. If I hadn't acted Carl would have died. I am sorry that I couldn't explain what I was doing at the time; before I had to act. The truth is I didn't even know if it would work, but I had to try for Carl.

Carl is no longer sick. He's resting comfortably and healing, but the damage was severe; worse than Mika. He won't be able to move for some time, probably weeks. We're going to stay where we are; don't look for us it isn't safe for you to come here.

Carl is safe with me. Tell Rick I won't let anything happen to Carl. I'll keep him safe, no matter what.

There are things you need to know, thing I couldn't risk telling any of you before without raising too many questions, endangering myself by exposing what I am. Since I'm no longer with you and I'm not coming back—" he stops voice strangled off in his throat. Hand shaking too much to make out the next words.

Carol's fingertips pinch the edge of the paper trembling in his hand. She looks at him, eyes bright with unshed tears cheeks flushed with emotion. "You want me…" she trails off nodding her head toward the paper in his hands.

He nods letting her pull the letter from his hand feeling numb. She watches him for a moment before dropping her eyes to the tight neat script, straightening the paper between her hands, pulling it flat so she can scan the words—find where he left off.

"Since I'm no longer with you and I'm not coming back there are things you have to understand. The first of these is that Judith is going to be immune." Carol's eyes jerk to Rick's face they stare at each other for a brief moment before she returns to the letter reading faster.

"All babies born after The Turn have been immune. I've seen it before and Luke confirmed it when he spoke with me months ago. They seem to be born with antibodies to whatever the Hell it is that causes the dead to rise and makes their bite so dangerous. Please make sure Maggie and Glenn know, I don't want her to worry herself sick; and I'm sorry for outing her, don't tell anyone else…"

They all stop eyes finding Maggie who flushes bright looking at Glenn. "Sorry Maggie." Carol flushes too obviously embarrassed at being the one to tell everyone the couple's private news.

Glenn shrugs one shoulder looking at his wife face drawn and serious. "Well, Cat's out of the bag."

Rick's the first to speak after their admission. "You're…Maggie are you…?"

"Pregnant? Yeah. Fin knew, she was the only one I told, well, 'sides Glenn obviously."

"Congratulations."

Maggie waves her hand stopping them obviously not comfortable with the idea still, especially in light of the current situation. She must be barely pregnant she looks exactly the same to his eyes when he looks at her.

Maggie shifts uncomfortably under the scrutiny her accent thick with her discomfort when she speaks. "Alright will everyone quit stare'n at me like I'm gonna explode right here? Just keep reading Carol. What else does it say?"

They all turn back to Carol while she presses on.

"Judith will not be able to do the things that I can do; as far as I know no one else can. Please believe me when I tell you if she gets bitten; give her a chance. They may not even show interest in her at all—they might ignore her completely like the do with me or Luke unless we draw their attention on purpose with noise.

Carl's not going to die, Judith won't die; I can't explain it, I don't know how that works: I just know it's true because it's happened more than once. The first time I was bitten I waited to die after everyone left me behind, but I didn't even get sick. You've all seen the marks on my shoulder, even though I try to cover them up, keep people from asking questions about them.

The second time I got bitten I was trying to save Abby's life the Walker that bit me let me go before I could even react—whatever I am, or however it works they don't like the way I taste. The Walker that got confused and bit me the night I fell on the Peacock farm—because yes, I was bitten that night too; he let me go the second he grabbed me.

I've learned over the last three years that I can do other things as well… like what happened on the roadway the day Carl was attacked. I knew I could stop them… keep them away from him at least; but the rest of it I never expected…maybe I could do it all along and just never thought to even try; or maybe whatever I am is changing.

That thought terrifies me more than anything else.

Everyone who's ever learned what I am has been afraid of me, I guess I can't blame them when I scare myself half the time.

When Carl is awake he'll probably want to come home to everyone. And I have no idea what to tell him. He's not infected; he's not going to turn into one of them; maybe not ever… I also don't know if he'll be something more because of the treatments I gave him.

In saving his life I might have cursed him with becoming like me; Because that's what this feels like: a curse. I'm safe from the dead, but I don't belong with them; they aren't real; they're nothing. And the moment anyone learns I'm different they envy or fear and hate me; and that's the real stick in all this; I don't belong anywhere, with anyone. No one wants me around once they learn the awful truth. And now Carl might have to deal with it too, I won't know until he wakes up. How do you apologize to the boy you've learned to love as a little brother for turning them into a monster? There's no words for that, I was selfish—I couldn't stand to let him go.

I don't know if you'd want him back now after learning all of this: that he'll be safe with you again. It might seem a terrible thing to question, I know how much Rick loves his son; but when your own mother leaves you to die you start to see the world in a different light. And you can't tell me that everyone in the group is okay with what I've done; with what I am… That they won't Fear Carl, that it won't change the way they treat him. Fear does terrible unspeakable things to people. I don't want him to live through what I've had to anytime people have learned the truth. I would give anything to spare him that pain.

I hope you can understand that, at least in some part. I'll keep him safe.

Carl can stay with me, and we can both move on and you'll never be bothered by us again. Just please keep Judith protected, take care of yourselves. I wish I'd had a moment to say goodbye to everyone. I've thought about what I would say for days now, but I can't find the right words, maybe they don't exist.

I'm sorry is hardly large enough to encompass everything I feel and want to say, but it's all I have.

Keep yourselves safe, please don't look for us. I don't want to hurt anyone but I will protect myself, protect Carl; even from family.

If I see any of you I'll assume you mean me or him harm and I'll do whatever I have to in order to keep Carl and myself safe.

I don't know what else to say…" Carol stops, shifting the papers in her hands, she glances over the next words eyes lifting from the paper quickly cheeks flushing slightly. She holds it out to him again, her hand unsteady not meeting his eyes.

"The last part is just for you, Daryl here."

He stares at the paper in her hand, takes it scanning the words to find his name near the bottom pouring over them soundlessly hand shaking while everyone waits silently for him to finish.

Daryl—

I meant it. Every word, every moment, every single minute I got to spend with you.

I don't know if you can ever forgive me for keeping this from you, for deceiving you like I did. Please know it was only this; this was the only secret I ever held back because I couldn't bear the thought of losing you.

Don't go to that dark place, you're stronger than that, I know you are. You'll get through this, they need you. Rick especially needs you to lean on right now.

And it's not fair of me to ask I know that; and I am so sorry but please forgive me, if you can.

I love you, I always wanted to Stay.

- Seraphim

He curses hand dropping to his side chest closing up so tight he can't seem to draw in air for a long moment.

When he looks up again Rick is standing in front of him. He straightens up unsure for a moment if maybe Rick might hit him; blame him for Fin taking Carl away… and not coming back; not planning on it apparently…but that's not the expression on his face.

He's seen this look before.

"What you wanna do?" He's surprised his voice is as steady as it is; clear and strong if a little rough working around the lump lodged in his throat after reading her words.

Rick tilts his head jaw set tight. "Should be obvious Brother, part of our family goes missing; we go find them and bring them back."

And Hell yes he was just thinking the same damn thing.

:: Walking Dead ::