Camera snapping
Eyelids flapping
The darkest darks
And the brightest brights
- Sarah Kay "Extended Development"

Carol was beautiful in her wedding dress, the simplicity of the material as it swept over her form and bunched at her left side, soft material forming a cluster of flowers over the bunched material. The skirt fell down to the ground beneath her, pooling at her feet clearly stating that at one point she had been wearing heels with it, but they had been abandoned at this point. She had a genuine smile on her face, the shot a candid as she laughed at the joke Michonne was telling her from behind the bridal bouquet in the maid-of-honor's hand. Her dress was silky and blue and it fell just right in all the right places, nothing about the dress was a traditional 'make-the-girls-look-worse-so-the-bride-looks-better' bridesmaid dress. The beauty of the second woman only seemed to enhance the beauty of the first as they stood together as one unit. Laughter and happiness. Her eyes sparkled with the secret joke the friends were sharing.

Another Carol was twirling long auburn curls around her fingers, her gaze focused solely at the woman at her side who was wildly gesturing to get across the meaning of some story that they were both very invested in. Carol's face was bunched up in complete concentration and Michonne looked as if she was holding back her own laughter. Another candid.

A third pair held a different type of image. The Carol there had makeup caked on that darkened in a suspicious pattern against her cheek and her face was dark under a painted on smile that didn't reach her eyes. She wore laser tag gear with the gun tightly pressed into her hand, lifted to the side as she looked to the camera. The Michonne at her back was wearing her own gear slightly awkwardly around the growing baby bump under her, gun clutched tightly in her own hand, the muscles in her arms were well-defined and the glower on her face was not disguising her inner rage in any way as she leveled the camera with a glare, anger radiating off her and she looked as if she was wishing the gun in her hand would shoot off more than a little beam of light. She looked dangerous. In that moment - they both did.

The fourth Michonne was in a hospital gown, looking much worse for the wear with an exhausted smile on her face, holding a tiny bundle in her arms and her gaze was solely focused on the little bundle in the blue blanket. There is a calmness to the woman's face that he doesn't see in any of the other pictures that he's seen. Her mouth is pressed closed, a hairpin curl to the side of her mouth and her body is curled in, shoulders bunched forward, creating a protective shell over the little boy in her arms. It was protective, everything about the form the two of them made in the image spoke volumes about the love the woman felt. She wanted to protect him from all of the dangers in the world, she was poised to be the barrier that would keep him away from any and all harm that could come at him.

Merle smacked his shoulder, said something about the game or pills or something and Daryl hummed and nodded along where he felt that Merle was asking for him to nod along to. Ed was already two pills in and the man was all but asleep slumped back in his chair, his gaze lazily following the path of the football across the screen without seeming to even notice that there were others in the room - much less the fact that they were helping themselves to all of his beer and eating the full plate of nachos that Carol had made for them.

The fourth Carol was taking up another frame with a second Andre, sitting in the children's section of the library, curled up and reading that book about the train that went up the big hill. Carol's face was bright, her lips curled into an exaggerated 'o' shape as she narrated the tiny engine up the hill, bringing it over the top of the insurmountable odds to a joyful victory and Andre's gaze was locked on the book, both of his hands lifted up in triumph in a cheer that was clearly too loud for the setting, but there didn't seem to be a sense of regret or admonition in the picture posted on the wall. They were just - happy. It was a moment. And it was gone.

All of the moments were gone.

"Hungry?" Her voice was low and uninterested in that particular answer as she crossed the living room and settled the plates with cold cut sandwiches in front of each of the three men. Her eyes never lifted to Ed or Merle, but as she stopped in front of Daryl her gaze flicked up to meet his eyes, locked and lingering in that moment, studying him. Waiting.

"Starved." He choked out finally, answering the question in her eyes rather than the one off of her lips, ignoring the fact that Merle's voice was prattling on in the background. Daryl couldn't hear a word that his brother was saying, feeling like his heart was about to burst out of his chest. He wanted to cry after taking in the sight of all of the pictures around them. He might have cried if the fire inside of his body hadn't dried him out completely. Words weren't an option with Merle standing so close and ready to strike out at any mention of something real, but he had the look that he could give her. Dry and cracked, but it was something and it was all that he had.

She nodded in his direction, once and slowly before she started to back away the slightest bit. "Good." Carol straightened her body before she turned, nearly running back towards her bedroom, leaving him behind in the living room with Merle.

"Come on." Merle muttered, watching the way that Carol moved, looking up and glancing around the room in a swift once over before he twisted back to Daryl, his features hardening once more in that moment. She hadn't been a mouse with Daryl. She wasn't being a mouse and that made her a threat.

"Game ain't over." Daryl tried in a feeble voice, gesturing towards the tv and then towards the sandwich that Merle hadn't touched yet. Merle practically growled at him as he stood up and grabbed at Daryl's arm, yanking him up and to his feet.

"It is. Game's fucking over baby brother." His glare followed the hallway back towards the tiny woman who had escaped just before them.

Panic rose in his chest and he knew that Merle was about to go find the woman so he quickly nodded and grabbed his arm back, because he needed to drag his brother out of the house before he followed his gut instinct and went after her. He needed to keep her safe from Merle Dixon while she worked through her shit. He would keep her safe from Merle. "Game's over." He agreed quietly, quickly leaving the living room to find his shoes and his jacket, counting on Merle to follow, listening closely for any signs of his brother going down the hallway, relieved when he saw Merle coming around the corner to shove his feet in his boots, pressing the wad of cash that Ed had paid him in his back pocket, neither brother speaking as they got ready to leave.

Carol listened to the shuffling in the living room, pacing in the hallway a bit as the sounds moved away. Quicker than she expected them to leave. Carol didn't feel like she could breathe through the thickness in the air and she moved to the window of the far edge of the room to wrench it open and gasp in the fresh air as it swept into the house in cool gusts. The sound of an old truck's engine kicking to life cut through the air and she closed her eyes tightly, nodding against the tears that built up without warning.

"Why are you crying?"

"I miss you."

"More than you did five minutes ago? Bullshit, try again, Carol. Why are you crying?"

"I'm not." Carol swiped her arm over her eyes, twisting around to lean her back against the wall, her gaze scanning across the hallway, focusing on an empty doorway and nodding there, allowing Michonne to take that spot. That was where she was - where she had to be.

"I can see you. You're crying."

"Why are you here?" Carol's voice trembled as she shifted back against the wall, swallowing hard.

"You need me. I always come for you when you need me."

"I don't need you." Carol's voice trembled. "I mean - I always do but not right now. Right now I need him."

"You do need him, don't you?" That edge. The always there, teasing edge creeping into the air around her.

"Shut up Michonne. It isn't like that." Carol glared at the doorway. "It isn't. He is the jerk who didn't care about the rule. You and Merle, you had a deal and he didn't - that careless, selfish bastard didn't hold up the deal. He broke it and he ruined everything. Everything is gone." Carol trembled, slowly moving to slide down the wall.

"Carol-"

"Everything is gone, Mich." Her voice trembled, her hands shoving roughly through her hair. "Everything. You're not here. You're gone. You're not here." The silence caused a burning ache to ram through her chest, taking her breath. Her gaze lifted to the empty doorway and then scanned the hallway once more, her head falling back against the wall with another heavy sigh as her arms wrapped about her knees, pulling them tightly up against her chest. "Everything's gone."

Daryl had practically run to the truck and he went straight for the passenger seat and climbed in, which annoyed Merle endlessly and almost sent him back inside the house to deal with the problem right then and there. He ran his hand over his hair before he pushed towards the truck, ripping open the door and sliding in, slamming it shut behind him. "Man. Hope I ain't too shit-faced ta make it home." Merle punched the truck to life, turning a glare on Daryl and watching the way that his brother's body wilted in the seat next to him, his fist clenched tightly shut around something, a small chain hanging out of his hand. "What?"

"Drive." He choked out the word, the small pendant burning a mark into his hand. It had been hanging from the rear view mirror when he slipped in the car and his eyes found it instantly, reaching to take it down and it had been open. The image was Andre wrapped in the same hospital blanket that he was in for that first picture. The inscription on the opposite side of the locket stated 'Best Godmother Ever'. Those tiny eyes were open and staring out from the small photo and even when he closed his fist on it and effectively closed it - those tiny eyes were all that he could see.

They were gone because of him. Just - gone.