Jasper

Chapter 2: Taking It for Granted

Our most basic instinct is not for survival but for family. Most of us would give our own life for the survival of a family member, yet we lead our daily life too often as if we take our family for granted. ~Paul Pearshall

He went straight to the green Hyundai and threw the door open, tossing his stuff in to the passenger seat. Flipping the visor down, he caught the keys and slotted them into the ignition as he took note of the gas hand. He grunted in satisfaction seeing the needle stood steady at the full mark and then popped the hood to check the oil. He kicked the front tire as he passed by just for the hell of it.

Part of him drew back from what he was about to do, the part that had grown over the past ten months as he came into his own and stepped up to lead the group. The other part, the one that sounded like Merle and whispered from darkened corners that nobody would ever love him or see him as anything but trash, drawled that this was his fault. If he hadn't been so busy playing the big man, he'd have been there. She could have come to him instead of taking everything on herself. He'd fucked up and now she was paying for it.

"You really leaving," her cold, even drawl pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see Michonne leaning casually against the door, her katana held loosely in her hand. "Thought you said staying around was important. Now here you are about to go running off with your hair on fire in spite of all those big ideals you were spouting. Are you going lone wolf or are you going to stay with the pack? You know what's out there. Just because we ain't seen hide or hair of him don't mean that he's not around waiting for a chance to bite."

Daryl shifted foot to foot, avoiding her gaze as he slammed the hood shut and shouldered past her. "Not why I'm going and you know it. She's alone. He left her without so much as a go to hell."

"He did what he thought he had to," Michonne retorted. "You saw how Ty was back there. He's been seeing red since he found the bodies. He would be at her throat the minute he found out. Maybe she's safer gone than here where she'll have to watch her back every minute."

"She wouldn't be alone here," he argued fiercely. "That's been the priority from day one, keeping the group together. Fuck it. Rick was the one who preached that the loudest. The only one who harped on it more than he did was Carol. She refused to let anybody go. She's earned her damned place."

"Didn't she lose it by killing two of her own?" Michonne played the devil's advocate well, refusing to look away from his menacing glare. "The rest of you wouldn't have cut her loose but Rick didn't take a vote before he acted. Neither did she."

"I don't know why she did it," he mumbled, hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes on the dirt under his boots. "I don't know what the hell happened. I won't know until I find her."

Michonne kicked his foot with hers; mirroring an exchange they'd had a hundred times out on the road. It was short-hand for quit being a dumb ass and he couldn't help the grin that wormed its way on to his face. "And you're assuming that she wants to be found and to come back. Rick said she didn't fight him on his decision. She got in the car and drove off. She could just as easily have come back here and forced a confrontation. It wouldn't have been pretty but she could have done it."

"Course she didn't," Daryl shook his head roughly. "She ain't like that."

Michonne sneered, her mouth twisting into an ugly gash. "Of course she's not. Saint Carol of the Prison, revered and beloved by all." Her mocking tone seared like acid, no attempt to soften or deflect the burn. "You couldn't see that underneath all that sweetness and light was a flesh and blood woman who had to rebuild herself from the ground up. She never asked for any of it to happen and nobody ever asked her if she was okay with it. It's Carol who never raised a hand to a soul except to soothe a hurt or offer comfort."

"I know her," he broke off their staring match, his breath coming out in stuttering pants. "Don't matter what happened, she's still Carol. She learned to fight but she's still the same as she was the day I pulled her out of the tombs."

"You moved the damned Earth to get her back. But what did you bring her back to, Daryl? What was left after the killing and the fighting was done? Who sacrificed for her, bled for her, and loved her? She changed just like we all did; only she didn't do it for her. She did it for you, for Rick, for the Greene girls, for this so-called family that you say you have. But did any of you change for her? No, I don't think so."

He swung to face her, his face taut with anger and disbelief. "She knows how we feel about her," Daryl growled. "She knows what she means to us."

"Now she does," Michonne nodded in agreement. "She became what she thought your family needed her to be and got tossed out like the trash. You think she's going to thank you for bringing her back to that."

"Whose fucking side are you on?" He barked. "Make up your damned mind. First its Rick did what Rick had to do and now its Carol did a Houdini act and got cut loose because we wouldn't accept who she is now. It's not that cut and dried, dammit."

Her jeering laughter brought him up short. "Blood is blood," she pointed out. "You said so yourself. Ain't that what you holier-than-thou types preach? She made a call and it was the wrong one. That woman, despite it going against every truth she'd ever clung to, killed two innocent people on the chance that it just might save somebody she loved. That's what she's going to tell herself. It's not the truth but, for her, it's all she's got."

"Then why the hell did she do it," he rasped. "You know so damned much about her, tell me that."

"Trying to bring order to the chaos," she ticked off her fingers one by one. "To give her a sense of control, fear." She tapped her thumb and dropped her hands to her side. "Or maybe she thought they deserved to go like human beings instead of rotting sacks of meat. I don't know why. That's something you're going to have to ask her."

"I ain't got time for this shit," he tugged the door open and dropped into the seat, already gunning the motor. "She's out there and I won't quit until I know she's alright."

"And if she won't come back with you, what then?" She probed her eyes boring into his demanding an answer. "No her, no you. You going to stand by that? You didn't before when you left with Merle."

"I don't fucking know," Daryl's fists crashed into the steering wheel, his temper finally getting the better of him. "I guess that depends on her, don't it?"

Michonne shook her head slowly, an enigmatic smile crossing her face. "No, Daryl, she's made her decision. That one, it's all on you. Better get that right in your head before you find her. She's made her choice. Now, you're gonna have to make yours."

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He pulled the car into park and shut off the engine as he stared at the small cluster of houses. There was no sign that anybody had been here recently, much less that the damned world had shifted on its axis. He pulled the map out of the glove box and folded it over until he found what he was looking for. The enormity of what he was taking on hit him like a gut punch, pushing the air from his lungs and leaving him weak and dazed. She could be anywhere.

He slumped in the seat, one hand fisting the map while the other covered his eyes, shutting out the world. Daryl hadn't stopped until now to think about what she'd done and how he was going to deal with it. Carol wouldn't kill in cold blood. She just wouldn't and he knew it. Knew it like he knew his own name. She would fight if she had to. She would look out for those kids with everything she had because she said she would. If she did it, she had her reasons and he needed to know what they were. He needed to hear it from her so that he could understand. He wanted to understand. And to do that, he had to find her.

The suburb where she and Rick had gone on their run was twenty miles from the prison. The road was clear for the most part with only a few stalled vehicles and downed trees to contend with. He traced the two lane until it crossed the fold, mouthing curses interspersed with Rick's name. Why the fuck had the man taken it upon himself to play judge and jury? Except for when he'd declared himself leader after the shit at the farm went down, Rick handled things by putting it to a vote so they could talk it through. Every decision was debated until there was no ground left to cover…what to do with Randall, whether or not to take the prison, and then whether or not to stay. Nothing about this made sense. It never would unless he got off his ass and figured out where he was going next.

The map was tattered and covered with faded pencil marks. Daryl smoothed it down flat, following the road in a dim hope that something would jump out at him. Most of the surrounding area had been covered the winter before they found the prison. Those eight months had been hell, running from one place to another trying to hang on, to survive. Everywhere for fifty miles around had been picked clean. She knew that as well as he did which left him right back where he started. Where the hell would she go? Not to Woodbury. That place was in shambles after he and Rick loaded up the people left and brought them back to the prison. They'd hauled away what was worth salvaging and left the rest to the walkers. She was smart enough not to head blindly into new territory. She would find a place to hole up, get her bearings, and lick her wounds.

He shook his head angrily at the thought of her alone and hurting. Damn Rick anyway. Damn this whole fucked up world. Daryl rearranged the map until he was back where he started. He traced the road again, trying to think like his prey. Where would she head? Denied the prison, where would she go? He knew what he'd do if he had to leave the group and go off alone. As much as he hated it, he would go someplace he knew, someplace familiar. The way he figured it, she wouldn't be any different. He felt a small spark of hope flicker but hurriedly squashed it before it caught. It was a wild idea, grasping at straws. "Think it through," he muttered. "Don't go off half-assed. You've only got one good shot at this. Don't fuck it up."

Home. It made a warped kind of sense. The brief possibility that she might go to the Greene farm presented itself but he immediately shot that down. She would be able to stay there for a few days but not long term. So with that off the table, that left just one place he could think of that she might head for. It was a long shot but, for now, it was all he had. He gnawed at his bottom lip, considering it from all angles. He mapped out the most likely route, doubling back when he came too close to a large town or the interstate. He skirted the edge of Carrolton, grunting in satisfaction as secondary roads took him well past Atlanta's bulk. From there it was a short jaunt to Rome. Again, she'd have to stay to the outskirts but there'd be plenty of spots where she'd be able to resupply or hole up for a few days. From there, she'd need to cross the interstate just past Calhoun. That would be the worst part of the trip because most would have headed for I-75 as the quickest way out. That meant more cars, more traffic snarls, and more chances to run into trouble. If she made it that far, it wasn't much further to where he guessed she would end up.

He marked out the way once more, adding up the miles in his head until he was satisfied. It wasn't an easy trip and a hundred things could go wrong between here and there. A little voice in the back of his mind whispered that if she was smart and kept her wits about her, it was doable. "Carol, dammit, don't you fucking die on me," he whispered. "Don't you dare." He tossed the map into the passenger seat alongside his crossbow and his pistol. He reversed out of the cul-de-sac and gave the houses one last look before heading out.

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Carol stopped the car and climbed out the minute the sign came into view. She chanced a look around before opening the door and stepping out. Her back muscles protested as she rolled her shoulders and stretched to ease the stiffness of the long ride. It had taken the better part of a week to get here but she'd made it. She looked at the faded sign and laughed ruefully. To say she'd never expected to set foot in this town again was a gross understatement. She'd loved it once upon a time, back when she was too young and wide-eyed to know better. Back before Ed had shown her just how much of a bastard he could be. The small town was everything she'd dreamed of as the only child of a single working mother. It was a place of green lawns and towering trees, pretty parks and rolling hills.

"She eyed the sign one last time before squaring her shoulders. "Jasper, Georgia…the first mountain city…welcomes you." she murmured before climbing back into the car and blowing out a breath. "Home sweet home."

End Part 2….

A/N Gotta give a shout out to Bleedtoloveher who pointed out that avoiding the interstates would be a necessary evil and gave me some suggestions for alternate routes from the prison to Jasper. Any mistakes are mine as I was greatly dependent on Google maps. The response to this story has floored me. THANK YOU! THANK YOU! Review if you like….I'll love you for it. If you're up for a chat...send me a PM or come visit me on Tumblr….I'm whowhatsitwhich over there as well. Thanks ever so much for reading.