A/N: -Warning, this chapter is particularly dark, with a healthy dose of Carrick friendship.
-This chapter holds my main purpose for Clyde. Will be explained further at end.
-Please, Please, PlEASE pardon the laaame ass story of Scott and his injury..i literally sat here for like two days with the rest of the chapter finished racking my brain on how to make it work, finally just pulling this crap outta my ass lol so...go with it lol


They were late.

Carol tried to busy herself as much as possible. Staying longer at the infirmary, looking after Judith, spending time with Michonne, helping prepare meals at the mess hall. She even accompanied Maggie one day on her shift at the barn, the two women seeking comfort through the other in this dire time of need. She tried anything and everything to take her anxious mind off of the mini crisis taking place, but the fact still remained.

They were late.

The big run that the town had been preparing for had been launched. The importance of which, if successful, would be a huge substantial gain that Alexandria has seen in a while, but also the most dangerous.
Carol hadn't realized how much she was being kept in the dark concerning the nature of this mission until she actually started to worry. Once that worry took control of her frayed nerves, she found herself interrogating the injured man, Scott, in the infirmary after having learned that he was part of the previous supply team.
She needed to validate her concern. There had to be a reason for this.

Turns out, he was the one Glenn was replacing for the supply team, and had in fact been injured on the former run...The very same run her family was currently on.
She spoke with Scott, or more like cross-examined the man demanding some light be shed on what was going on, which he reluctantly complied.
Apparently, they were a group of five headed to a location yet unvisited. The community was dangerously low on supplies, to which she could testify being part of the infirmary staff, and constantly making use of its entire inventory. So the squad was forced to branch out a bit further than normal. After locating a small town on the map they were taking with them, they departed. The travel alone took roughly a day in itself and required them to spend overnight, but they safely arrived to the circled location.

The small city was out in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere nestled in between a network of forests, but they were ecstatic to find it untouched and held everything Alexandria needed. He had named it the 'golden city' with how lucky they were to find such a hidden treasure. From a stocked grocery store to a doctor's office complete with a nearby pharmacy, and everything in-between, it was a godsend. They filled up the cargo wagon to the brim with as many goods as possible but it was obvious that more than one trip was going to be necessary as they barely even scratched the surface of their finds. With minimal walker encounters to start, the party of five packed up what they could, and were excited to report back to base.

It was on the way back, when things took a turn for the worst.

He told her of how the attack happened so fast, and there was no time to turn the car around as they blindly pulled into the middle of a herd so massive, the car couldn't gain traction over the mountain of bodies under its tires. They were completely unprepared as the force of the herd surrounding the car shattered windows, and the outstretched claws of walkers continuously reached inside the car scratching and biting the passengers. The herd was pushing so hard against the car that it actually flipped on its side giving him his current leg injury. Scott and one other were the only ones to escape of the group. They were forced to abandon the car, along with the goods, and return on foot to Alexandria. A feat that nearly killed him.

Scott bowed his head squeezing the tears back in place. He was so ashamed at having been derailed by an otherwise manageable threat, and having lost people and needed supplies for the town because of it.

Carol shook her head in disbelief after having learned what happened.

A city full of walkers...But, that wasn't anything they haven't encountered before, and she doubted it proved a real cause for concern knowing her band of survivors so well. Maybe the previous supply team was just inexperienced compared to her and what they've all been through, and that's why they failed. So could that really be all that was keeping them? She couldn't help but feel that there was more to it...

Carol left the infirmary feeling even more overwrought than when she went in. The estimated time for their return was no more than three days max. If it went past a third day well...no one really wanted to entertain the thought.

And yet here they were.

Day six.

The town was in a panic. Loved ones of those that had gone on the run were beyond consolation. There was a plentiful amount of tears being shed from grieving families, wives, girlfriends, sons and daughters, already mourning the loss.
It infuriated her. She couldn't be a part of it. Wouldn't be a part of it. Because then that would mean giving up, and that's not something she would do. Not when it came to her family. When it came to him.

Carol wanted to go out there. Wanted to go and find him once the allotted time had passed transitioning it from a supply run to a possible rescue mission. She had even begun to pack her things one night when Rick came in stopping her asking her to give them more time; have more faith. They were with others. Tyreese, Sasha, Glenn...
...Daryl. They were all together. And times had proven that with just the four of them alone they were a formidable force to be had. She knew this. Which is why she complied with Rick.

Truth was, Rick didn't have a game plan, and he was just as worried as she and the rest of them left behind were. But if they were going to take action on account of their family, they needed a plan. He couldn't afford to just charge in balls to the wall unprepared risking their safety and the possibility of even more casualties.

Unfortunately now, her hands were tied and from her position there was nothing that she could do to help. So she tried forcing herself to turn a blind eye to the dire situation for the moment, and wait. Bottling up her feelings and drowning herself in endless amounts of work, it seemed to be working.

For the first few days.

But now on this sixth day Carol found herself worse off than some of those who were already grieving. She seemed to have skipped the mourning process and went straight to shutting down; barely able to perform daily functions. She hadn't cooked or ate anything for herself since the third day hit.

Maggie wasn't much better off as Carol would lay awake at night to the disturbing sounds of her sobbing. They were deteriorating. Once again falling into that dark abyss that was becoming painfully familiar. Carol felt in such a state of vulnerability that she was becoming uncharacteristic.

So when she dropped a tray of instruments at the infirmary, Denise had to finally send her home for the day to recollect herself.

Rick walked into the infirmary to check on Carol curious to see if she would want to spend time with Judith after her shift, but was surprised when Denise told him she had to regretfully send her home. He was mindful of the steady decline of both Carol and Maggie's mental state each day due to the current dilemma at hand, and made it a point to be there for the two as much as possible. He'd been trying his best to keep them company and occupy their minds with other things, but he couldn't deny how worried he was getting for his ladies. There was only so much he could do, and it was getting to the point where action was going to have to be taken.

Rick headed off back towards the houses intent to check on his despondent friend and see if she was okay.


It was still light out when Carol was headed back home. Maggie was staying with Michonne and Judith in the Grimes' home currently, and while she wanted to be a part of that, her body was long overdue for a restful nap. As she was ascending the front steps to the porch, a random shiver ran through her body giving her pause. She creased her eyebrows trying to discern what she was feeling all of a sudden. It was like her instincts were telling her not to go into the house right now.
She chose to ignore it, too tired to really care.

Carol entered her room exhausted and ready to just check out for the next couple hours. But just upon stepping through the threshold her body went on full alert, and she froze rooted to the spot feeling a cold dread pass through her body. Panic alarms were blaring and her blood froze in her veins sending that familiar shiver down her spine she had just experienced moments before.

Someone was in her room.

There was no time for reaction as a hand shot out from behind slamming over her mouth muffling the scream that tore from her throat. She couldn't see who it was, but fought with everything she had, thrashing wildly against the attacker. The pungent smell of alcohol violated her system forcing memories of a past life to flash with blinding speed behind her eyes. She was terrified, and none of her weapons were within reach for her to make use of sending her into a confused panic. Carol did the only thing she could do, and bit down hard onto one of the fingers of her assailant who wailed painfully effectively releasing her from their grasp. She tasted the metallic on her tongue realizing she bit hard enough to draw blood.

Spitting, she spun around facing her attacker.

"Clyde...?" she whispered.

Carol stared unbelieving into the listless eyes of Clyde. What the hell was he doing? From the few encounters she's had with this man she never depicted him as being of any real threat to her. Not this way at least. As she took note of him now though there seemed to be a deranged vibe coming off of him. Something was off about him and she grew increasingly worried for her own safety. She already knew he had been drinking, but she suspected there must have been another aspect of it to make him come after her in such a way. The possibility of drugs flew into her mind frightening her even more. Drugs turned people...She was in serious danger.

That's when she noticed the knife in his hand.

"Made me look real stupid y'know. Could have told me you were seeing somebody. I took a beating for you, bitch." he hissed.

She had to somehow placate him. Maybe she could talk him down from his crazed state, or just stall for time. Her eyes shifted all around looking for any kind of outlet to help aid her. Out of her peripheral she spotted an object that previously was useless but suddenly had so much worth. It was her only shot.

Carol backed up slowly as he advanced. With every step back she took, his difference in height and stature made his forward ones the equivalent to two, and he was steadily closing the distance. "Clyde...there's no need for this...we barely know each other for you to even be upset like this." Her hand was reaching very discreetly behind her in search of her lifeline. "You seem like a nice person," she bit her tongue so hard at that she just about drew blood. "but right now you're not well..I don't want you to do something you'd regret." He was right in front of her now.

Her fingers closed around the base of the lamp on the console table and without waiting a second further, she channeled all the strength in her tiny body shattering it against his skull with a sickening thud. She had been placing all bets on this method of escape, and felt her heart drop to her feet when he only stumbled grunting ferociously from the impact and righted himself almost immediately.

Carol had no time to gather her wits as he charged at her slamming into her with the full force of his bulky body and shattering the bedroom window behind her. Shards of glass pelted their bodies and stars exploded behind Carol's vision, the force of his body impacting with hers almost made her collapse, but miraculously, and she credited this to her ex-husband, she recovered fast enough to roll out of the way of the incoming knife aimed at her heart.
Clyde exerted his entire strength in the intention of lodging the knife deep into Carol's heart, but missed when she slipped out from in front of him causing the blade to hit the windowsill with such force it imbedded deeply into the wood grain.

Carol fell to her knees with how fast she scrambled to move out of the way. She was so dumbstruck over the situation that it took her a minute to shake the blur from her vision. The fear was so great at this point that she momentarily froze actually feeling each pulse of her heart pound in her ears, and the world come to a stop.

This man was going to kill her. And for what? She didn't even know. Between the last few days and just the traumatic journey of her life in itself of getting to this exact moment boiled over. Carol was so violently torn asunder over everything that had accumulated in her life up until this point. Her hands closed into tight fists and she began to tremble, vibrating with a feeling so overcoming that she suddenly felt calm. There was no filter from the rage that blinded her.

Carol grabbed hold of a large shard of glass on the floor hissing as it sliced her palm from her gripping it hard and brought it down forcefully onto his back as he was still trying to wiggle the knife free. Clyde roared out in pain, abandoning the knife and turned just in time to see her making a break for the door, but he beat her to it slamming it back shut as she was opening it.
She backed up facing him more than ready to fight, but was caught off guard as his fist came barreling down onto her cheekbone hard. It still hurt to be struck much to her agitation, but he had pushed her to the point of self defense as opposed to cowering in fear. So in retaliation she took half a step back and quickly smashed her boot hard into his groin. He hadn't expected it, because he took her as weak prey expecting her to be doubled over in apparent pain after a blow to the face, so she especially took pleasure in him piercing the air with an excruciating roar of pain as he doubled over.

The gain was short-lived however, as she realized Clyde being under the influence of whatever it was he was on, would not be brought down easy. Still clutching at his wounded groin, she was surprised when his other hand shot out faster than her comprehension and wrapped tight around her neck.

Carol gasped shocked, her hands flying to his wrists trying to pry him off. Fully recovered now, Clyde mightily tossed her onto the bed and was immediately on top of her pinning her form to the mattress with his body. His hands found their way back to her neck again, and he wrapped them tighter forcing the air from her lungs.

Clyde was choking her, his arms bulging with the effort and Carol was losing breath fast as he held her to the bed squeezing her neck tight. She clawed at his arms digging her nails into his skin and dragging tearing the flesh as it accumulated under her fingernails, but it didn't deter him. She even tried punching his face or aiming for his eyes intent on burrowing her thumbs into the sockets, but he evaded her every move. Carol was frantic now as her breath was rapidly leaving her lungs forcing violent coughs to erupt deep within her chest. Her time was running out and she didn't have a method of escape from his death grip around her neck. Her heart was straining harder than it's ever worked before knocking hard into her ribcage as she uselessly tried to pull in gulps of air. The understanding of the doomed situation swept over her with blatant certainty.

She was dying.

Carol dared a look into his eyes to plead for mercy, and met with the hellion that once pulled the puppet strings to her life.

The tears spilled forth as she was captured in the malicious glare of Ed Peletier.

Her focus wavered peering into the soulless eyes of the man that molded her into a fearful weakened victim of violence for so many years. He was beckoning her to join him in the pits of hell, and she was angered to know she was losing the fight.
Carol's eyes began to flutter as she struggled to keep them open; the blood had long since drained from her head making her dizzy.

She felt herself slipping away.

"Mama..."

Her eyes flew wide open instantly.

"Don't let him hurt you."

The ethereal voice in her head whispered strength into Carol's weakened body. There was no direction as she curled her leg up awkwardly from underneath, and brought her hand to the inside of her boot where she kept a hidden switchblade for emergencies. The surprise of the attack had erased her cognizance of its existence, but now with this provided strength her outstretched fingers curled securely over the dagger's handle.

Carol thrust the knife sharply into the side of Clyde's neck.

He screamed loud dropping forward gripping his spurting neck and would've crushed her if she didn't roll out from beneath his collapsed body. The blood flooded with blinding speed back into her head, dazing her, but she pushed through. The rage swarmed her system, and Carol straddled his back raising the knife high above her head. She was beyond comprehension now.

She stabbed him with such force it collided with bone. Her choked wails filled the room as she readied to deliver the next blow, images flying through her mind's eye, and suddenly she had purpose fueling her revenge.

She stabbed him because of the bruises Ed had left tattooed on her body and heart. She stabbed him again because Sophia had come shuffling out of the barn that fateful day. She stabbed him again because she had lit a match to Karen and David's gasoline drenched bodies. She stabbed him once more because of the bullet she put in the back of Lizzie's head.

And finally...

She stabbed him because she didn't know if Daryl was dead or alive.

Carol stopped having reached her limit. She was bordering asthmatic with how hard she was wheezing, her lungs never having expanded so large with each forced rasp. She clambered off the bed eyes glued to the mangled form and backed away slowly. He was reduced to a mess of shredded bowels and puncture holes. What had she done?

"...Carol...?"

The switchblade fell out of her hand clanging to the floor as she spun around facing Rick at the door. They locked gazes stunned speechless.

Rick had entered the house calling Carol's name through the stillness that greeted him. The hairs rose on the back of his neck as he stood in the entrance just listening. Something didn't feel right. Gun raised, he stalked slowly and quietly through each room of the eerily quiet home dead set on finding the source of his worry. The answer came to him in a shrill cry from the upstairs floor.

Carol!

He raced up the stairs towards the noise, and felt his heart drop at the thuds and crashes that soon followed. Once reaching the closed bedroom door, he gripped the knob turning hard, but it wouldn't budge. At some point Clyde had locked the door during their tussle, and Rick panicked hearing the commotion from the other side.
"Carol hold on!" He slammed his shoulder into the door a couple times hoping to jar it open with brunt force, but that wasn't working. With a few powerful kicks however the door splintered open.

Rick burst through the door gun raised when he stiffened at the sight before him. It was a bloodbath that chilled him to the bone. He noticed the red marks of fingers left imprinted around her neck, the bruise upon her cheek, and the slash marks along her bleeding palms. Glancing at the figure on the bed, a cold dread settled over him at realizing she was attacked.

His widened eyes fell upon the petrified gaze of Carol's and they froze mouths open staring at each other.

She broke the gaze looking down at her hands.

Blood...More blood sullied her hands. She thought the times were over where more blood would be spilt by her hands, but she was wrong. She shook her head, the tears falling from her eyes looking back up at Rick. How had it gone so wrong? Her look pleaded with him tugging at his heart strings.

This woman had suffered through so much; abused, banished, mentally tormented. Yet she had proven her worth more than once, raising his baby, taking care of his family, and even saving his own damn life from man-eating psychopaths after he left her to the elements. He may have been too late in getting to her, but looking into her eyes now, he knew he had to protect her.

Rick re-holstered his gun, and walked towards Carol to which she recoiled violently once he was close enough, after having experienced what she just went through, but he maintained.

He engulfed her body in a tight embrace rocking her gently in his arms and running his hands in a soothing gesture along her back. Her body began to shake from the trauma and he closed his arms tighter willing the tremors to stop. She started to sob uncontrollably, and he shushed her softly placing gentle kisses to the top of her hair.

Carol had honestly expected Rick to raise his gun and place a bullet between her eyes at this discovery, so she was shocked when he instead enveloped her in his arms almost lovingly.

He placed a final kiss atop her head and pushed her away by the shoulders."Carol...go get yourself cleaned up, and meet me in the living room." He grabbed the sides of her face lowering himself to eye-level. "I'm going to take care of this..."
She nodded, not knowing what else to do and headed obediently towards the bathroom.

Rick stood after she left, pacing nervously on his feet, his hand running through his hair.

What was he going to do?

He couldn't let Douglas know about this, the consequences of which could lead to her second banishment or worse, and strong as she was, he knew she couldn't possibly handle that a second time. His thoughts drifted to their immediate family and how they would react. No... He didn't think they would understand. And then the final thought crashed through him buckling his upper body with his hands falling to his knees and had him groaning.

Daryl...

He couldn't do it a second time. Didn't want to be the one to inform him of a tragedy befallen by her hands, even though this time had very different circumstances. Rick heard the running water of the shower, and straightened up ready to clean up the mess. He'll discuss it with her, and they'll figure something out.

Right now however, the only option was to dispose of the body.


They had waited until the dead of night using the cover of darkness to transport the body in the soiled bed sheet outside of Alexandria's walls. It was a laborious challenge, and they were almost caught having to lug the dead weight around without being seen, but it was done.

A ways from the walls, Carol and Rick stood side by side over the body as it disintegrated amongst the roaring flames of the fire pit. He had done all the work as she understandably, couldn't bring herself to soak another person in gasoline. They each stood silently lost to their own thoughts, questions floating through their minds. Was this justified as self-defense? Would anyone understand? Did he have family here? Would they even have to tell?

Carol subdued the racing questions by curling her pinky around his in the unmistakable act that two people did when forming a pact.

The silence lingered as they both looked on, and then she broke it.

"Rick...We finally found this beautiful place, these wonderful people who have accepted us. Everything has been a dream come true..." she didn't bother fight the tears that fell, "I had thought the killing had finally ended..." she turned to him seizing him with her heartbreaking gaze."When will it end?"

Rick placed his arm around her shoulder bringing her in close as she wept. Words of comfort escaped him. He could say it was alright, that things would get better; that this was just an isolated incident, but he didn't tell her any of these things feeling they were lies. He had nothing to assure her with. Because unfortunately, he'd already come to the conclusion long ago that the killing would never end despite how safe things appeared to be. He placed a kiss on the top of her head resting his cheek against it when she shocked him with her next statement.

"Daryl is dead isn't he…" she whispered into his chest.

Determination set hard in his jaw, and he felt angered at the dejected tone in her voice. He couldn't let her give up, couldn't allow another day to go by with his family members missing and he shook his head to her remark.

His voice was hoarse as he responded, "No...Tomorrow. We leave. We'll bring them back home."

He would talk to Douglas. Tell him he's going after the supply team with his remaining family members, and they would bring everyone back home safely. Enough playing waiting games.

Carol nodded into his chest, and they embraced quietly. Rick stared blankly into the flames as he assessed the events of the night. Carol backed away slightly and he kept an arm secured over her shoulder as she also stared into the flames.

Together they stood, now sharing a dark secret in the Alexandria Safe Zone.


-So, my intention for Clyde's character had always been to serve as a binding element for Rick and Carol's friendship as oppose to drawing a jealous rift between Daryl/Carol. I was always interested for a situation to occur where Carol would receive some sort of ironic justice through which she and Rick would bond, though it was kinda tweaked at the last minute by how things played out and i ended up having her save herself instead of Rick coming to save her.
-18 Days left till season 5 returns! C'mon Caryl!