9th Life
"Don't," she murmured, gently stroking his back as they lay curled up together, their limbs entangled, hands caressing. The last tear had yet to be shed, but for now, their emotions were in a lull, but his eyes were starting to tear up again. She smiled a little as she stroked her fingers through his hair, in awe of how grey he'd gotten over the past few years. "You cry, I cry."
"Ain't you the one that told me I had to let myself feel it all them years ago?" Daryl asked softly, a little chuckle in his voice. He knew his wife through and through. She was trying to make the moment light, but his heart wasn't quite in it.
"Did I say that?" she asked softly, taking a deep breath that caught and hitched in her lungs. Daryl propped himself up on his elbow, caressing the side of her face. "I guess I'm pretty wise sometimes, huh?"
"You need water?"
"No," she said softly. "I'm fine."
"You ain't fine."
"Well, fine as I'm gonna be then," Carol said gently, as Daryl stroked the side of her mouth with the pad of his thumb. "You should get some sleep."
"Ain't sleepin'. Gonna see you through this." His eyes were heavy and had dark circles around them. He hadn't slept more than a few minutes at a time since the fever hit. And there they were again. The tears. She bit back a sob as a hot tear slid down her face, and Daryl gently pressed his lips against her temple, stroking her cheek softly, collecting the salty droplet with his thumb.
"It's alright," he whispered. "You don't gotta be so damn brave." Carol smiled through her tears.
"Please. I'm just trying to keep you from turning into a mess." She nudged his shoulder again, and the chuckle that started to rise from him turned into a sob, and he buried his face against her shoulder. She stroked his hair lovingly. "Shh."
"Don't wanna do this," he sobbed, grasping fistfuls of the bed sheets, his body shaking as he tried to still his nerves.
She closed her eyes as she felt his tears scorching the flesh on her shoulder. A small smile spread over her lips as she caressed his neck and his back, and she found that her own body relaxed as she comforted him.
Fifteen years. It had been fifteen years since they'd found the salvation of the safe zone. Fifteen years since their firsts. First kiss. First time they shared that bed. First time they'd admitted their feelings for one another. They'd made love that night, getting to know the few things they had left to get to know about one another.
After all of the loss, all of the pain over the years, the one constant in each of their lives had been one another. For Carol, that last run with him had been worth all the pain in the end. They'd spent some much needed alone time together, and even though in the end, they'd done everything right, took all the precautions, an unexpected loose bolt on the cabin door had led to the herd getting in, getting to them, getting at her. The bite had been quick, not much blood, but it had been enough, and there was no cutting away the tissue to save her. The bite was on the back of her shoulder, too far to the center to be able to do anything about. It was bandaged and packed with gauze, but the fever was in her now, and it was only a matter of time.
"You're gonna be ok," Carol whispered, gently pushing at his shoulder, forcing him up so she could look into his eyes. His lip trembled, and he shook his head, tears falling from his eyes as he looked at her. "Hey. You will be. You have to be."
"I love you. Don't wanna do this without you."
"Hey. We've had a good run. We've had a lot more than most people have. We got lucky." She kissed the tip of his nose, trying to coax a smile out of him to no avail. "Help. Help me sit up." He pulled one arm around her back, helping her to sit, and she winced as the pain in her would began to throb.
"What can I do?"
"Just listen to me. I don't want you wasting anymore painkillers on me. No more medicine. It's almost done." Daryl shook his head, pulling his hands around her waist, needing to feel closer to her. Carol leaned in, pressing her lips against his forehead. "You cannot shut down. Do you hear me? You have to keep going." He blinked back the tears, and she reached for his hands, taking them in her own. "A long time ago, I had the chance to just lay down and die. I was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, bloody and beaten, and I had a choice to make. I could walk out the door and take my daughter with me, or I could stay and let Ed beat the hell out of me. He almost killed me, and I knew he could if I pissed him off enough." She sniffled. "I made the wrong choice. I stayed. And then some crazy twist of fate brought you into my life, and you were the one who taught me what it was to fight. Even when I wanted to lay down and die when Sophia disappeared, you kept going. I need you to do that again. I need you to not make the choice I made when I let myself be weak and stay with Ed."
"You're the strongest person I know," Daryl murmured hoarsely, his jaw trembling as he held his emotions in check. Carol smiled a little at that and shrugged.
"It took a lot of loss, a lot of pain. And you've had that, too. You just keep going. You just keep breathing. I need to know you won't break down. You won't stop breathing. Because I want to leave this life knowing that you're ok. You're what matters."
"No." Daryl shook his head, getting up from the bed. "Ain't doin' this."
"Please," Carol sobbed, bringing her hand to her mouth as the dam broke. "I need you. I need my husband. Right now. I just need you to hold me and to tell me that it's going to be ok, because I can feel it spreading. I know it won't be long, and I need to feel you for as long as I can, until the end." Daryl nodded, swallowing hard as he sat back down on the bed. "And then I need…" Carol swallowed hard and brushed away her tears. "Then I need you to kill me." Daryl pulled back, but Carol kept her hand on his arm. "Not…not like that. Not what I meant. I just…I need you to not let me turn. The second I'm gone, you do what you have to do. Cry. Scream. Just…just get through it, and then you put that knife through my head. I won't come back. Do you hear me? I won't." Daryl let go then, burying his face against her neck. He clung to her, and she broke down in his arms, letting herself feel the ache in her heart, the longing for a future that no longer existed.
"S'gonna be ok," he choked out. She knew he was trying, and that was all that mattered. She gripped his arms and kissed his neck and his jaw and his cheek, and he held her close, and he let her shatter against him. She let him break, too, and they just held each other, comforting one another, whispering assurances and admissions.
"I didn't accidentally lop off that chunk of your hair that night after the rainstorm. I just wanted to give you a haircut; see you the way you were when I first met you. I'm sorry," she sniffled.
"I knew ya didn't, but I just wanted to feel your fingers in my hair." He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "I didn't really sleep in the bed all night that first night. You were curled up against me, naked and smilin' in your sleep, and I couldn't sleep. I didn't wanna wake ya. I sat in the chair by the bed all night." He nodded toward that chair that was worn from age and use. "I just watched ya sleep. Couldn't believe you were mine."
"I hate venison," she admitted with a laugh.
"What?"
"Hate it. Just disgusting. But you brought it to me, so I ate it. It was food, and it was from you, and I just…I saw how happy it made you to provide for the group. I didn't want to tell you."
"I wanted to die when I saw that walker bite you. Wanted to end it for you right then, end it for myself." His eyes met hers, and she bit her lower lip. "I thought about it. Had two bullets. Just…just didn't want ya to suffer, but you grabbed my hand, and you said 'let's go home,' and I took you home.
"Daryl," she whispered softly, "you're going to be ok."
"You ain't," he choked out. "You're my wife. You're…you've been…" He wiped at his eyes, and she squeezed his hands. "I can't tell you how much…"
"I know," she whispered. "I know." She took a few shaky breaths, and lay back down on the mattress, bringing him with her, sighing softly as he rested his head against her chest. They lay in silence then, and she closed her eyes, feeling the heat rising in her body as the fever began to take control. She brushed her fingers through his hair. "Be ready." He groaned against her neck.
"No," he cried out.
"Don't you dare give up. You hear me?" She trembled as she looked up into his face, seeing the pain, the grief, the complete devastation in his eyes. "You bury me under that willow tree out back. I know Gabriel likes to have everyone out in the cemetery, but I don't want that. I want to be under our tree. I want to be where you can come and talk to me and remember. Can you do that for me?" He nodded. "And I want you to be happy. If that means moving on…"
"I can't. You know I can't," he murmured. "You're the only one I could ever…" He choked back another sob. "You know me."
"I do," she said with a soft smile, closing her eyes. "You've been my hero since the day you went out looking for my little girl." She smiled as his fingers curled around hers. He leaned in, kissing her temple softly as her breaths grew ragged and weak.
"And you're mine," he murmured, stroking her cheek. "It's ok. You can let go, sweetheart." She gave him a little smile before her eyes closed for the last time, and he muffled his cries against one hand and he held her hand in his other. "I love you. I love you. Rest now."
Carol could hear the soft whimpers and feel the brush of his fingers over hers as she quickly began to fade. She couldn't see him anymore, but she could feel him. He was with her, and she was leaving, but it was ok. She'd lived. She'd lived and she'd kept going until she couldn't. She'd fought. She'd pulled from a strength she'd never known she'd had until she'd stood up that night in that bathroom with the glass crackling at her feet. She fought through the worst of it, she'd lived through the best of it, and she'd done it with all of her heart poured into it. She'd truly lived, and it was enough.
