Between the Thorns

Chapter 42

Dwight adjusted his body, trying to find some way to sit comfortably in the hard metal folding chair despite the spots on his back and ribs that were still tender. The fact that he was horribly bored wasn't helping matters. Keeping watch over people that were locked behind closed doors didn't offer much in the way of entertainment. But he reminded himself that he'd much rather be outside the cells guarding them, than a prisoner himself.

When Sherry was brought back, he was cleared of suspected involvement in her escape. But Negan still knocked him down to bottom tier duties. Just to be an asshole. This meant that Dwight couldn't leave the compound. And for the foreseeable future, he was stuck guarding prisoners or supervising the slave labor workers that moved the dead around in the gauntlet. At least down here, he was inside out of the heat and away from the stink. The problem was, being bored left him with too much time to think. Dwight thought about his life before the turn. He thought about all the mistakes he made since the outbreak. And most of all, he thought about Negan fucking his wife. And how much he wanted to stab his knife into the man's smug smiling face over and over and over again.

The sound of hurried footsteps against the concrete floor pulled Dwight from his internal monologue. He rose from the chair, adjusting his grip on the large automatic weapon in his hands. Dwight tensed as the pounding steps grew closer. Someone running inside the Sanctuary was never a good sign. But he quickly relaxed when he saw Jean round the corner.

"Have you seen Lily?," she asked between gasps as she tried to catch her breath. Dwight shook his head.

"I haven't seen anyone," he said. "What happened to Lily?" There weren't a lot of people he cared about in the Sanctuary. But Jean and her girls were part of that small exclusive group. They were all friends before John died. And despite her questionable decision to align herself with Daryl, Dwight still didn't want anything to happen to her or her daughters.

"She was playing hide and seek with Rose. I've told them a hundred times never to do that!," Jean cried. "Now I can't find her anywhere. Someone said they thought they saw her heading downstairs."

"She didn't come this way," Dwight said, tossing his gun onto his back. "But come on, I'll help you look." Jean threw herself at him, hugging him around the waist and thanking him profusely. All the doors down the hallway they were currently standing in were locked. And the same was true for the next hallway over. But there were some open cells and small office rooms down the next hall near the stairs. Dwight headed that way, calling Lily's name.

Jean rushed Dwight forward as they passed by a small alcove, not leaving him time to glance inside. Once they rounded the corner, Daryl stepped out of the shadowed area and headed for the hallway where the prisoners were being held. He had no idea if Carol was there. But since he knew there was at least a possibility that the woman had been taken prisoner, he had to check for himself.

"Carol!," Daryl hissed, trying to keep his voice low enough that he wouldn't be heard by anyone else. But loud enough that the people behind the reinforced doors would hear him. "Carol!" Daryl moved down the hall, calling her name and listening for an answer. Finally he heard one.

"Daryl?"

The voice came from behind one of the doors. And Daryl bolted for it, pressing his palm against the hard surface. At the bottom edge of the door, there was a pool of congealed blood. And Daryl felt the panic rising inside him

"It's me," he hissed. "Are ya a'right in there?"

"Yes."

Daryl let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"It's not my blood," Carol said. Her voice was not only hoarse and strained. It was also being muffled by the door. Like she was an echo of herself. "Can you get me out of here?," she asked.

"Don't have a key," Daryl admitted, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against the door. He could almost feel her there, just on the other side of the thick barricade. And he spanned his fingers, wondering if Carol was doing the same. "Just pretend you wanna switch sides," Daryl suggested. "...and he'll let you out."

"I already tried that," Carol said, the defeat and exhaustion heavy in her voice. "I think he's got other plans for me."

Daryl didn't like the sound of that. Or the strange finality in Carol's voice. Like she'd already given up. Carol never gave up. Not even when her daughter died in front of her. But she wasn't the same since Terminus. Something happened to her out there. Something more than the cannibals and losing Beth. She never told him what it was.

"I'm not gonna let anythin' happen to ya," Daryl said, hoping he sounded more convincing than he felt. He was just a cog in a wheel here. He wasn't sure he could even change his own fate, let alone Carol's.

"Don't take that burden on yourself," Carol said. "You have more important people to worry about than me."

Before Daryl could argue, he heard clomping footsteps coming in his direction. And they were close. He was so focused on Carol that he didn't hear the man coming until it was too late.

"What the hell is this?," Dwight asked. He raised his gun, aiming it at Daryl. Daryl pulled his knife from his belt, preparing to throw it at the other man. Jean quickly inserted herself between them.

"Is Lily even missing?," Dwight asked, giving her an irritated glance. Jean shook her head. She glanced between the two men, who both looked ready to kill the other at any moment.

"We're all on the same side," she whispered. And she didn't mean Rick's side or Negan's side or whoever the hell else's side of this war. She meant the side of making it through this nightmare alive.

"Like hell," Daryl cursed. He moved forward, gripping Jean by the arm and pulling her slim body behind his. Jean wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek against his back.

"Enough," she coaxed. Peeking around Daryl, she focused her big brown eyes on Dwight. "Open this door and let Daryl see his friend," Jean pleaded. "...please Dwight. Be the man I knew before he mangled your face. Just for a minute."

The bad side of Dwight's face twisted painfully. He turned, slapping his open palm hard against the wall and letting out a loud stream of foul curses. Then he tossed his gun back onto his back and pulled out the ring of keys on his belt.

"Fuck the both of you," he huffed. Pointing at Daryl, he added, "...You've got one minute. You can't take her anywhere. And this never fucking happened. You got me?"

Daryl nodded. Then he stepped back so Dwight could unlock the door to Carol's cell.