You know me, she had said…
Daryl wondered on that as they swept the other offices… checking hiddy-holes and vending machines and 'honesty boxes' for snack bars or canned soda.
After a few hours, they began to circle back on themselves.
Didn't have to say a thing to each other… not a word.
You know me…
Yeah… and he supposed she knew him better than anyone in this world.
But you don't know her as much as you would like, Merle whispered in his thoughts as Daryl watched the woman in front of him weave their cautious path back to the road… watched her careful steps… how her body moved…
Oh yeah, little brother…
Daryl tried to shake off the thoughts, pretending they didn't feel good and they weren't warming his skin. There was something other than that though… something frightening…
He couldn't be…
Could he?
Carol squeezed back through the tightly chained doors and out of sight for a moment and Daryl realised something new; he didn't like her going someplace he couldn't follow.
Hurriedly, he unhooked the crossbow from his arm and passed it through the space before hearing an urgent, "Daryl, don't…"
But it was too late.
The familiar sound of a rifle cocking cracked in the silence and a nervous, deep voice stated, "Get up."
Daryls instincts kicked in and he glanced about the space; the walkers remained enclosed in their tents, though the sleeping bags were cleared from the ground, for the most part.
He looked at their ambusher…
Nuthin' but a bit of a kid, Merle noted. Wonder if he'll make the usual mistakes.
"Hands up," the boy insisted, wielding the weapon like a child would a plastic piece, "both of you."
Even a monkey can shoot a man dead with a loaded gun, brother, Merle reminded him, best listen to the man…
"Lay down your crossbow," the kid commanded.
Daryl shifted, unhappily, but did as he was told… "You got some sack on you."
"Nobody has to get hurt," he insisted in a desperate shout, "I only want weapons, that's it." The outburst calmed him a little as his face contorted in discomfort, "So please lay down your crossbow."
You could probably rush him… might take you out but your girl would be safe…
Daryl hesitated… wouldn't have sounded like such a dumb plan a few months ago… but now? He shifted again, unhappy, but laid the crossbow down and backed up some.
The kid bent and took his bow… never taking his eyes off them… so much for rookie mistakes!
"Sorry about this," the kid said… and Daryl almost believed it, until he said, "You look tough." And with a sideways glance at a writhing tent full of captive walkers told Daryl all he needed to know about the stranger as the kid loosed a machete and said, "You'll be alright."
Next thing Daryl knew; the tent was tearing open, followed by the next as they spilled their undead contents and all Daryl's senses fired.
He'd killed the first walker with relative ease and was already moving to the second when a shot rang out from his left.
He looked and saw the back of the kid as he fled from then… then, from the side, he saw Carol raise a gun…
Before he knew it, Daryl had slapped her arms down.
The gun fired and hit nothing… What are you doing, son?
She would have killed him! He thought to Merle-in-his-head as his hands fumbled to stop Carol falling.
And?
Carol was thinking along the same lines as Merle; he saw the angry question in her eyes…
But they didn't have the time for the whys right then and there; had to get the weapons back!
So he hurried to catch the kid, Carol running before him but not in enough time… the kid had locked the door.
Damn it!
Daryl span about in frustration, snorting hot air from his nose.
"Well that's great," Carol huffed… "Why the hell didn't you let me shoot him?"
The question froze the air as he turned to look at her.
What had happened? When had Carol made that change? That change that meant the timid housewife who had never used any kind of weapon would kill some hap-hazard kid before looking to help him?
And to his further surprise, he found that question hurt…
Was it because Rick had turned her out of the prison months ago?
No… it was before that.
She had killed Karen and David…
And if Daryl had noticed what was going on sooner – could he have stopped all this?
That day in the corridor… when he'd asked her if she was ok… he should have stayed with her. But he hadn't. Too worried anyone should catch them.
Why had he cared what anyone had thought?
No!
No – this was all too much.
So he walked away and back the way they came… had to get out of the building… needed to find a service entrance, or something that would have been isolated or secured.
Makes sense.
And Carol followed him… not knowing where they were headed, but silent.
She's got stuff to think on too…
Daryl supposed there was truth in that.
So he kept walking and walking, trying one door and one dead-end after another.
"Three bullets…" he heard her say, after an eternity. She huffed… "We're in the middle of a city and he was stealing our weapons."
He had nothing to say on it. Sounded like she was churning herself up some and he didn't want her to stop thinking how wrong things had gotten…
Couldn't have her thinking this was the way it was meant to be…
"Did you think I was going to kill him?"
Come on! He gave her a backward glance… still too pent-up to form words…
"I was aiming for his leg," she continued… making Daryl doubt her all the more as he carried on through a long-abandoned room.
She was gonna shoot him… Merle chimed in, She is protesting too much…
You know that quote? He asked Merle.
… yeah…
Daryl snorted again and turned a corner to find an exit door out of the block… he reached for his knife as Carol continued…
"Could that have killed him? I don't know, maybe… but he was stealing our weapons."
He couldn't help it… "He was just a damned kid."
There was a stunned silence… "Without weapons, we could die."
She gotta point…
"Beth could die,"
And another point…
Not good enough, he pushed harder at the locked door and answered, simply, "We'll find more."
The door wasn't moving, he shifted the knife and his weight behind it.
"I don't want you to die," Carol said quietly.
Oh she said it! Merle hollered, what's your response, son?!
…
Daryl continued his fight with the door.
"I don't want Beth to die," Carol continued, "I don't want anybody at the church to die. But I can't stand around and watch it happen either."
He wasn't listening, he let himself be consumed by his task…
"I can't!" Carol shouted, distressed, "That's why I left, I just had to be somewhere else."
That was it! Daryl turned, "Well you ain't somewhere else, you're right here!" And he finally looked into her eyes, pausing for a moment to see the emotion in her eyes as she listened to him and he added, "Tryin'." Because that's what she was doing.
She was trying… for all of them…
Sure she isn't just tryin' for you, brother?
He glanced back at her… and felt a pull on his insides…
Because part of him wished it was true, that she was there just for him… part of him knew it was true… and part of him was scared that it was all in his head.
He had to something about that.
Didn't he?
So he got back to the door.
"You're not who you are and neither am I," she said.
And damn, it was true.
But the door snapped open and he had to control his breathing because it wasn't the effort of opening the door… he didn't know what it was…
"I don't know if I believe in God anymore, or heaven…"
Not since Sophia… he realised…
"But if I am going to hell, I'm making damned sure I'm holding it off for as long as I can."
As she angrily scrambled at her bag, it caught in his and spilled both their contents on the floor.
Daryl felt a fist about his heart; the self-help book fell out.
For abused children.
And Carol looked between him and the book as everything else fell away.
Because they were all still who they were… and there was no denying it.
There was nothing else to say.
So he turned to leave…
"Daryl," he heard her call and tried to beat-down the sick feeling in his stomach.
But her hand smoothed over his shoulder, up his neck and pulled him down to place a kiss on his lips…
He felt himself tremble as Carol pulled back and rested them forehead to forehead…
There was nothing else needed.
"Let's get out of here," she whispered.
And he nodded, letting her take point as they left the building.
He knew her, he realised.
And she knew him.