A/N: I realise it's been ages since I posted the last chapters. I figured I'd get a lot of writing done on my vacation...but...nothing has happened so far. I seem to have left Caryl and the Angst at home. But I don't wanna make you wait for another 2 weeks or so...so here's the next chapter. Would love to hear your thoughts!
Chapter 2:
Dawn broke and drew him out of his slumber. The first ray of lights stole through the window and danced across his face. The warmth was satisfying, relaxing. It allowed him to remain in the half-drugged state before full wakefulness for just a moment longer.
Then the pain returned.
Daggers every time he took a breath. A burning when he tried to fill his lungs properly, followed by a heavy, sickening crushing sensation that extended to his ribs.
A pained sigh escaped his lips and he blinked his eyes open.
The sun was too bright now, only harsh and not warming. His body felt heavy with lingering fatigue.
Good thing he had stumbled across this house, he wouldn't have survived out there for much longer. Good thing he'd found Carol, too.
His eyes shifted towards her and he broke into a smile when he found her fast asleep in a rocking chair by his side. Apart from her hand which was clutching her knife even now, she seemed relaxed. Perhaps she had needed sleep as much as him.
Trying his best not to wake her, he sat up, grimacing at the pain that shot through his body once more. He carefully removed the compresses and slipped past her, searching the house for some water.
He finally found it in the kitchen and gave himself a break as well. It would be much too embarrassing to collapse and wake her like this. He stood there for several minutes, leaning onto the counter for support and watched how the sun rose through the tree tops, basking the grove in its light.
Collecting all the energy he had left, he began walking again. His steps were wobbly and every intake of breath sent a fresh stabbing pain through his body but he pressed on until his feet met with the grass outside.
The air was mild and smelled of pine trees; an almost soothing scent. Tiredly but determined he walked further until something caught his attention.
A set of graves close to the porch of the house.
Of course, nowadays that wasn't an unusual sight as humans continued to cling on to their rituals despite the fact that the dead had taken over the world.
But there was something quite poignant about the little shoes that were dangling from the wooden cross; enough to make him pause and stare.
His thoughts inevitably drifted back to the prison, to all the children they had taken in, to all the children they had lost. About lil-ass-kicker. Small, defenceless, scared. Entirely dependent on Tyreese now.
Had they made it to Terminus yet? Was it really a trap?
The pain that filled his chest this time didn't stem from the blow his ribs had taken. He blinked once, quickly, against the moisture in his eyes, thinking about the remarks Merle would've made if he would've caught him and directed his attention to the other graves.
His face morphed into a frown when he realised that the soil on two of them was fresh and soft, not cracked and brittle like the other ones.
His gaze drifted from them to the feeble fence and back towards the house where Carol was still asleep, as if trying to fill in the part of the story he had missed. And what he surmised was certainly enough to make him understand why Carol was so reluctant to head to Terminus with him.
She was tired; tired of settling down and being driven out again; tired of hoping and being disappointed; tired of losing people and digging graves.
He understood, of course, had felt the same hopelessness, the same weariness after the Governor had run them out of the prison. But he'd had Beth who had at first tried coaxing his feelings out of him until he had finally erupted, spewing his anger, his hurt and disappointment out like toxic waste that he couldn't bear to carry in his body for another second.
So perhaps that's what she needed as well. Perhaps he could be there to help her move on.
Inside the house, Carol suddenly awoke. Her head jerked up and her eyes instantly squinted against the sunlight that had invaded the room.
The first realisation that hit her was that she'd abandoned her vigil. Then her eyes, still trying to adjust to the light, instantly sought out Daryl but the sofa was deserted.
This information was enough to make her jump to her feet, slipping her knife out of its holster. No matter how much she'd been trying to fight it the previous day, she cared too much about him to remain detached. And if anything had happened to him under her watch.
She swallowed down the fear that was beginning to bubble up in her stomach. Her body was suddenly more alive than it had been in months, aching with the adrenaline that coursed through her so that when he suddenly appeared in the room, she all but sagged back into the rocking chair. Her hands were trembling badly and instead of feeling relieved, the need to cry almost overwhelmed her.
She couldn't do this anymore. Especially not with him.
"Ya alright?" he asked, perhaps sensing the fear that still seemed to cling to her body.
"Yes, just wondering where you'd gone."
"Needed to piss," he shrugged and almost chuckled when she grimaced "what?"
"Charming language," she pointed out unnecessarily and carefully slid the blade back into its holster.
"Well, it's hardly a rest room out there." He grinned and lowered himself onto the sofa.
"You should've woken me."
"I can handle myself," he commented, supporting his rib with one hand.
Suddenly, there were a thousand random, playful and entirely inappropriate comments she wanted to make. Comments that she might have made, had they still been at the prison and had their situation not changed so drastically.
But now she had to settle for a smile and a change of topic.
"You should get something to eat. Your body's going to need all the nourishment it can get to recover."
"Lost everything I had," he muttered begrudgingly "you have anything left?"
"Not much," she replied, reaching back to massage her neck that felt stiff from the awkward position she had slept in "I gave most of what I had left to Tyreese."
Daryl nodded, his gaze drifting back outside, past the graves and towards the forest.
"Hunting's out of the question," Carol interrupted sharply, having followed the direction of his glance "so is a food run. You're too injured and I won't leave you here alone."
"Then we're both going to starve." He frowned at her stubbornness.
But Carol, who had seen a beautiful blonde girl riding a deer in front of her mind's eye, ignored him.
"You've learned to trap too, haven't you?" she finally asked, blinking to chase the image away.
"Of course," he nodded, but the frown didn't leave his face "could take days though before we catch anything. There's no guarantee."
"It's still as good as it's going to get then, isn't it?" she challenged, arching an eyebrow and when he didn't argue she added "Until then you're going to get the rations I still have left."
"What about you?"
"Like I said," she shrugged, rising to her feet "you need it more while you're recovering. Now tell me how to build a trap."
He opened his mouth for a brief second but then decided that he could still make sure later that she'd get some food as well. So instead he began to explain.
"There are several types…gonna make a hole trap though cause it's the easiest. First, you gotta track the rabbit down, find its trail. Then you gonna dig a hole deep enough so it can't climb out anymore. You gonna collect small branches and put those over the hole, then find little twigs and put those across the branches in the opposite direction. Then all you gotta do is find some leaves and make sure the hole isn't visible. You make sure you mark the location and you move on."
Carol nodded, listening intently.
"The other kinda trap is a snare. You can use some of that bullshit fence to make a loop. Find another trail and fasten the loop to some roots or a tree stump. Trouble is, if it isn't secured properly the rabbit will escape."
"Got it," she nodded "how will I find a trail though?"
"You keep ya eyes on the ground until you spot a criss-crossing pattern. You'll see two smaller depression, then two larger ones in a horizontal line. Keep following the trail, make sure it's fresh."
"Alright, I'll try." She gave him a smile that wasn't entirely convincing and started heading towards the doorway where her backpack was resting against the wall.
"Droppings can help ya too. If they're still moist, they're fresh." He called after her and she waved her hand in acknowledgment "If you're not back by noon I'll come looking for ya."
His last words caught up with her just before she'd had the chance to open the door and she quickly doubled back, giving him a stern look.
"No, you'll stay here and rest. No matter how long it takes me."
Daryl's eyes narrowed and he scoffed.
"You're crazy."
A thin smile passed over her lips once more before she set off into the forest.
The quiet there was a welcome change at first. No-one there to ask her questions, no voices jarring her awake. Just the soft rustle of leaves in the wind.
But the girls refused to stay at the house in the grove and soon joined her, flittering through the trees, laughing, giggling.
Look mommy, I can make myself invisible too.
She squinted against the light that shone through the tree tops, trying to make out her daughter. But the light was blinding her, setting her cornea aflame until her steps became clumsy.
She staggered, trying to get her bearings but only found a root instead that sent her tumbling to the ground.
Beneath the leaves the earth was soft, moist, full of life.
Her body shook as her hands scooped up the soil, letting it dirty her hands, letting something slick slip through her fingers.
It's alright. Everything works out the way it's supposed to.
And Carol smiled and hiccupped a chuckle while another tremor passed through her body. Her hands stopped digging and brushed her cheek on the way to her hair, leaving pebbles of dirt in the greying strands.
She had to keep moving, had to set the traps so she could return to Daryl, to check if he had faded away too.
Thinking of him seemed to help clear her mind and she continued walking, paying no attention to the ghosts that followed her.
When she finally found the trail she congratulated herself and built the traps as best as she could.
She even managed to ignore the child's torso half covered in leaves that was struggling to free itself from the snare she had set.
He wouldn't stop squeezing, mommy.
Her fingers closed so tightly around her knife that her knuckles turned white.
She was almost back at the house now, could see the hole she had left in the fence.
Her shoes broke twigs in two that set off a cacophony of crackles.
She was starting to take another step when a hand closed around her mouth, muffling her screams.
Someone was crushing her against his body; heavy breathing in her ear.
"We gotta go," Daryl's raspy voice whispered "they've found us."