Michonne was pacing. Again. She was like a caged tiger, ready to pounce and Carol felt terrible for her. It was a lot easier for Carol to deal with being locked up because she'd spent so many years a prisoner to Ed. She may not have actually been living behind bars, but she might as well have been. He dictated every part of her life - the people she could talk to, when she could leave the house, what she could do when she did leave the house - it was jail.
This place they were being held though, despite everything, it was actually nice. They were in a large room with 2 single beds on either side. There was a separate fully functioning bathroom, with a toilet, tub and shower. It was almost like the two of them were living in a college dorm room together. If they hadn't been spoiled for the last few months with the luxuries of Alexandria this place would have been a welcome relief from the road - well, minus the part where they couldn't come and go as they pleased.
They were placed in the room and told to get some sleep. Negan said he would be talking to both of them separately the next day. Carol could still see the look on his face - so arrogant and cocky. The man was handsome - she would give him that - and he had charisma behind the vulgar language and threatening demeanor. Carol got the sense he was a chameleon that could morph into whatever he needed to be for the situation - not all that different from her in that respect.
Carol looked at the clock on the wall. They had been in the room for over an hour. Michonne would pace for about 10 minutes and then sit down for 5 - that seemed to be the pattern. Carol was sitting silently on her bed, leaning against the wall, watching. Right on schedule Michonne sat down again with a sigh. "Distract me. Tell me something - something worse than what we're going through so I can quit feeling sorry for us."
Carol looked at her friend and said the first thing that came to mind. "Morgan is dead."
Michonne stared back at her. "Morgan is dead," she repeated. "Is that better or worse?"
It was a fair question. They really didn't know what Negan was going to do to them, maybe it would have been better to die. But Carol knew that as long as they were still breathing there was a chance they would get away and get back to their family and she would hold on to that shred of hope because that's what would keep her going. Rick refused to tell Daryl she loved him so Carol had to get back and do it herself - end of story. Carol chewed her lip for a moment. "It's worse for us, but I can't help but wonder if it's better for him."
Michonne gave a little nod of understanding. They had discussed Morgan at length and they all agreed, Rick, Daryl and the two of them, that Morgan's philosophy was dangerous. His refusal to kill had put the group in peril on more than one occasion. They had been around enough psychopaths to know that sometimes you have to kill to save yourself and your family. "It bothered you - when he died - more than I thought it would," Michonne said, looking to Carol for explanation. Everyone knew about the fight she'd had with Morgan and how he'd slammed her onto the cement floor and knocked her out. They knew about their differences and that there was no love lost between them. But no one else knew that Morgan had very likely saved her life earlier that day. "You were relieved when Rick banished him - but when he died I saw your face - " Michonne's voice trailed off.
When it became clear that Morgan's philosophy just wasn't going to mesh with life in Alexandria and the mentality of the rest of the group Rick had finally decided he would have to banish Morgan. They took him to a town, gave him some food and left him. On the way back they stopped to loot for supplies and they'd been ambushed. Rick, Abe, Eugene, Michonne, Rosita, Glenn and Tara had been captured, but somehow Carol managed to escape. She had no transportation and no way to get home so she'd bit the bullet and headed back towards Morgan for help.
She only got to the outskirts of the little town before she was attacked by a man on a horse. Carol thought back to the moment, lying on the ground, fighting for her life, pretty sure he was going to rape her when she heard galloping. The next things she knew the man was pulled off her. By the time Carol scrambled to her feet Morgan had knocked the man out and stabbed him in the head.
Everything was so confusing. How had he found her? Why did he have a horse too? And where had he found the gumption to kill the man when only hours earlier all life was precious? She never had the chance to ask him or thank him and now she never would. Before they had a chance to catch their breath more men showed up and this time there was no way out.
"He saved my life," Carol said softly. "He didn't have to. If he hadn't come to try and help me I would be dead and he would likely still be alive." She quickly told Michonne the part of the story she didn't know.
"I wondered what happened when they brought the two of you into the woods," Michonne said. "I just assumed you'd both been captured separately. Never thought you were actually together." They sat for a moment, in silence, both lost in thought. "Don't blame yourself," Michonne said, walked over and taking a seat beside her. "If we didn't have to banish him none of us would have been out there and everyone would still be safe at home."
Carol appreciated Michonne's rationality but even though it made perfect sense it didn't do much to ease the guilt she'd placed firmly on her own shoulders. She would get over it, or at least bury it, eventually. Pretty soon they would have a better idea of what was expected of them in this strange place and they would have to start formulating an escape plan.
"You wanna try to get some sleep?" Carol asked. "I don't know what else we can do tonight anyway."
Michonne leaned against her and touched their heads in a moment of comfort. "Yeah, let's try," she said, getting up and moving back to her own bed.
Carol lay down on the comfortable pillow and closed her eyes. Much to her surprise she was out in minutes. A banging on the door woke her. "Rise and shine ladies," a male voice said. When the door opened Carol saw the man who had put them in the room the night before, plus a second man with his weapon drawn and a woman carrying two trays. She set the trays on the table and gave both Carol and Michonne a shy smile. She looked young, probably early 20s, but healthy and happy. "Eat up," the man said. He set a bag down on the table. "Then get yourselves showered and cleaned up. Everything you need is in there," he gestured at the bag. "Negan will see you in an hour Carol. When he's done he'll talk with - Michelle is it?"
Michonne's reply was through gritted teeth. "Michonne."
"Oh right," the man said, as if he really didn't care and likely wouldn't remember. "We'll be back in an hour. And remember, if you behave you're treated well - if you try to pull any funny business - you die. It's an honor to be one of Negan's wives."
As the trio left Carol looked at Michonne. "Did he say wives?" She nodded and they both stared at each other with horror etched on their faces.
DARYL DARYL DARYL DARYL DARYL DARYL DARYL DARYL
Daryl had been in the watch tower with Sasha and Maggie all night. The girls had taken turns sleeping, but he couldn't - not with Carol and the others out there still. They should have been back before dark, but he knew sometimes even a simple, well planned run, could go awry. A few hours late was expected, 5 or 6 hours late was common, but by 9am the next morning Daryl was really starting to get worried.
When he first saw Rick appear from the woods way off in the distance Daryl thought he was hallucinating from lack of sleep. But when Glenn, Eugene, Tara, Abe and Rosita also appeared he started to smile. He nudged Maggie and called out to Sasha, "Wake up - they're back."
As the two ladies chattered excitedly Daryl continued to watch for Carol to appear - and Michonne. They must have been lagging behind together, he thought. The group was approaching the gate and still Daryl didn't see any sign of Carol or Michonne. He started to get nervous and quickly climbed down out of the tower. Sasha and Maggie had already left and ran for gate to meet the others.
Daryl started to jog as Carl and Denise opened the gate. The 6 of them entered and Carl shut the gate. "Hey," Daryl called out to him. "Might as well wait for Carol and Michonne." The 6 pairs of sad eyes on him told him the news wasn't good. "Where is she? They, I mean - where are they?" Daryl stammered, feeling dizzy and disoriented from panic and lack of sleep.
"He took them," Rick said, his voice tired but angry. "Negan. He wanted two of our women or he would have killed all of us - he killed Morgan."
"They're alive?" Daryl asked with slight relief. But the rest of Rick's words suddenly registered. "Wait, you let him take her?" He knew he'd screwed up again and said her instead of them, but he was too tired to correct himself. They all knew he cared about both women, and they all knew he had a special connection with Carol. "No, no no," Daryl muttered. "No," he yelled at Rick. "This can't be happening again. It can't." How many times did he have to lose her? He was filled with rage and he wanted desperately to direct it at Rick, but if he hadn't given the two of them away they would be dead anyway. At least this way they were alive - maybe.
"I had no choice," Rick replied. "This way they have a chance. I don't think he'll hurt them unless he has to."
Daryl didn't want to hear anymore. It made sense. Rick did what he had to do. Whatever. It didn't change the fact that Carol was gone and he needed her back. Nine lives. The woman had nine lives to start, but how many fucking lives could she have left at this point? How many did any of them have? And why the fuck had he been wasting what little time they'd had together? It was easy to look back now and know he'd fucked up by not telling her how he really feels. He should have told her after terminus or after the hospital or after the walls came down - yet he'd been a pussy time and time again. No more. If he was lucky enough to get her back somehow he would tell her how he felt. He would tell her he's loved her since he carried her out of the tombs at the prison and got her back for the first time. So long ago. He'd loved her that long.
Daryl resisted the urge to run. He couldn't be that immature hot head anymore. She deserved better. And he wanted to live to tell her how he feels. Something Michonne often said came to mind - 'Anger makes you stupid and stupid gets you killed.' This time he would be smart and mature because he wanted to live for her. He took a deep breath and looked at his friend's exhausted face, "So what do we do now?"