Rick interrogates Carol about the Wolves and then brings her before Deanna.

A Matter of Trust

I know you're an emotional girl
It took a lot for you to not lose your faith in this world
I can't offer you proof
But you're going to face a moment of truth
It's hard when you're always afraid
You just recover when another belief is betrayed
So break my heart if you must
It's a matter of trust

You can't go the distance
With too much resistance
I know you have doubts
But for God's sake don't shut me out

- Billy Joel

"We just have a couple of questions for you." Rick said quietly, his eyes on hers, steady and unsmiling.

Carol had known this was coming.

"I still don't know about what you did...but I know you knew some things I didn't."

Even though he'd asked her if she would have them, if they could join her out on the road, part of her had always felt that Rick meant more than that; join her mind set, join her in the ability to do whatever was necessary to keep their family alive.

She knew that he was grateful for what she had done in bringing Judith back to him, in saving them from Terminus, for her clear quick thinking to melt into the Junior League on their arrival here, but that didn't mean he trusted her.

"She didn't have nothin' to do with it, Rick." Daryl grated out. The laser glare he was giving the constables would burn holes through concrete.

"I asked you to wait outside, Daryl" Rick said tersely. They had commandeered the dining room of Claire and Felicia's house for their questioning. Carol and Daryl sat next to one another on one side of the rustic table, Rick on the other with Michonne leaning against the wall near the door.

Daryl's grunted make me under his breath made Carol's lips briefly curl into a smile.

"Michonne, would you?" Rick said, gesturing towards the door.

"No Rick, I wouldn't. You closed us out last time. I think we'll stay right here." Michonne said evenly, blinking her basilisk eyes at him.

A flush crept up Rick's neck and his jaw tightened, but he nodded, conceding the point. Other than his children, these were the three people he had felt closest to in the world; they were his contemporaries, his compatriots. They'd saved each other's lives a dozen times over and it hurt like hell to think they might have to part ways over this.

"Have you done any baking lately, Carol?" Rick asked, squinting slightly, his head angling to the left.

"What the fuck?" Daryl scowled and frowned in confusion.

"Baking?" Carol asked, raising an eyebrow and looking over at Michonne to silently ask if he was serious with this.

"Contributions to the food delivery service." Rick clarified.

"I made a batch of cookies to share with Dr. Yang and take to dinner last night." Carol frowned, "I haven't been on food service since last week when Deanna reassigned me to the Clinic."

"What's this about, Rick?" Daryl asked.

"The Wolves were poisoned." Carol said. "Yang found traces in their stomach contents. They were drugged to knock them out—immobilize them before the fire."

"That's right." Rick said. "Drugs you had access to at the Clinic."

"Along with Rosita, Maggie and now Yang—we all have keys to the drug cabinet." Carol said, anticipating his next question. There were also others in and out of there all the time when the cabinet had been opened to dispense meds to people. Add to that the fact that Morgan's plan meant everyone with a dart gun had also had access to something that could knock a grown man out. It didn't exactly narrow the list of suspects.

"Davidson is dead." Rick said quickly, watching for her reaction.

"How?" Carol asked. Claire had already told them the news so it wasn't a surprise.

"So?" Daryl blurted at the same time.

"I'm asking the questions." Rick said forcefully.

"Someone fed him ground glass in his Dutch apple pie." Michonne answered Carol.

"That do the same thing to his innards as it does to a car's?" Daryl asked.

"Exactly." Rick said, still looking at Carol.

"Ugly way to die." Michonne said, but then shrugged.

"Couldn't happen to a better guy." Daryl snorted.

"So. Have you baked any pies lately, Carol?" Rick asked.

"No." Carol said, raising her chin and widening her eyes as she shook her head back and forth.

That should have been good enough, but Rick slouched in his chair and tapped his right index finger on the table in front of him, continuing to stare at her.

"We done here?" Daryl asked, what little patience he had begun this with at an end.

"We found the rest of the pie, Carol." Rick said in a deceptively quiet tone, "Buried at the bottom of the trash at our house."

Carol shook her head in silent denial.

"Anybody coulda put that there." Daryl said.

"Anybody includes her." Rick replied. "And she's the one with a history of eliminating threats like this."

"Carol didn't have anything to do with any of this shit." Daryl said adamantly, his voice rising.

Carol put her hand on Daryl's arm, both thanking him for defending her and to quiet him.

"I understand why you did it Carol—after hearing what they did to their captives?" Rick said, his voice pitched low and sympathetic, "The abuse? What you've went through in your marriage? You couldn't take a chance of that happening here; happening to our family..."

Daryl made a rude noise in response to Rick's attempt at psychoanalyzing her possible motives.

"We're done here—come on—we're leavin'" Daryl said to Carol, bracing his hands on the table and struggling to stand, pulling her up with him from the grip she still held on his arm. Carol helped him get his crutches and they started for the door.

Rick stood up and stepped in their path.

"I'm sorry, I can't allow that." Rick said, his hands at his sides, not yet drawing a weapon.

"Get out of the way, Grimes." Daryl growled, straightening to his full height and trying to shoulder past the other man.

"Don't do this, brother." Rick tried, raising his hands to hold Daryl back.

"Rick—we don't have to—" Michonne tried and then looked to Carol for help, distracting them both as Daryl dropped his crutches and swung his fist in one smooth motion, connecting hard with Rick's mouth, knocking him back.

Rick staggered into Michonne, who grabbed him and kept him from falling, both of them looking back at Daryl with disbelief.

"Daryl!" Carol called out. "Stop!" she came up behind him and put her hands on his back to both calm and support him.

"He's not going to railroad you this time—not while I'm here." Daryl said, jaw clenched in fury, biceps bulging as he held his fists at the ready.

"Rick's just trying to do his job." Carol said calmly, moving to stand beside Daryl, closing her left hand over his upper arm. "Just like always. He just doesn't know...this time's different."

"Different?" Rick scoffed, spitting blood, thrusting his chin out at Daryl, "Because you dragged him into it, by the balls?"

"Least I got some." Daryl sneered back.

Michonne jerked Rick back before he goaded Daryl into exchanging more blows.

"At the prison?" Carol asked Rick, "When you asked me if I killed Karen and David, what did I say?"

Rick stared back at her, wiping his hand across his bloody mouth and wincing when he inadvertently rubbed the salt from his skin into the split of his lip.

"Yes." Rick admitted. She hadn't tried to evade the truth when he'd asked her point blank. "You said yes."

"So ask me." Carol said, her voice controlled calm.

"Did you kill Davidson? The Wolves?" Rick asked. The smell of burnt flesh at the latter crime scene had brought back that day in the prison yard, the anguish on Tyreese's face, the sympathetic pain on Carol's reminding him how well she could mask her true emotions when necessary.

"No." Carol replied, looking him right in the eye.

Rick stared into the unflinching crystal blue. He wanted to believe her. After all they'd been through, after all she had done for him...she had been as dear to him as any sister could be. He wanted to believe that she wouldn't do this. That he could trust her again.

Carl, Enid, Ron and Sam stood in the middle of the street, on their way to the first day of resumed classes in the garage that served as a one room school house. Their attention, like that of everyone on the street and porches of the surrounding houses, was arrested by the sight of the constables walking on either side of Carol, each of them holding one of her upper arms. A furious Daryl trailed behind on his crutches.

Breaking away from the others, Sam ran to Carol, his fear and confusion reflected on his young face.

"Miss Carol? What's wrong?"

"Outa the way, Sam." Rick said, halfway between kind and brusque. He knew how much Sam cared about Carol and wished he hadn't been here to see this.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, looking back and forth between Rick and Carol, walking quickly to keep up with the adults.

"It's all right Sam, Deanna asked us to find Carol to come talk to her about a problem." Michonne said, trying to placate him.

"Why do you have her knife?" Sam asked, pointing at the brass knuckle style handle of Carol's trench knife which was now protruding from the scabbard hung at her belt.

"Sam." Carol said sharply, drawing his attention to her, "I'm fine. You need to get to school now."

"Why did they have to find you? Were you lost? You didn't come home last night." The boy frowned up at her, knowing there was something off about the situation, but not understanding what it could be.

He tried to reach for Carol, but Michonne blocked him, gently knocking him back a step.

"Sam!" Ron called, taking a step towards his brother after exchanging a worried look with Carl.

Sam ignored Ron and looked to Daryl, the last person in the group, for a possible explanation, and grabbed hold of his crutch to stop him.

Daryl halted, but Rick and Michonne kept Carol moving, heading for the steps to Deanna's porch.

"Mr. Daryl? What's going on?" Sam asked, starting to sound frantic.

"Don't worry, kid, we'll get this straightened out." Daryl assured him in a tight voice, "Just a misunderstandin'... about a pie."

Carl inhaled sharply and his eyes widened.

"Don't worry—I'm watchin' out for her." Daryl told Sam quietly, "Now go on to school like Carol asked you to, okay?

Sam looked doubtful, but Daryl leaned to the side to free up his right hand and put it on the boy's shoulder. He leaned down and spoke into the boy's ear as reassuringly as he could.

"It'll be okay."

"Why didn't you bury it? Put it in the incinerator? Take it outside the wall?" Ron asked, his voice rising in panic.

Classes over, they had left Sam with Tara and Judith downstairs and retreated to Carl's room upstairs saying they had homework to do. They were discussing the pie that Enid had baked in the middle of the night, the one with a special garnish of ground glass...

"You did it on purpose—you wanted them to blame Carol." Carl accused. "I should've never told you what happened at the prison." Wanting to impress her with how bad ass everyone in his group was, he'd been telling Enid stories about their lives before Alexandria. She had been especially interested in hearing that despite her present mousy demeanor, Carol was a warrior woman.

"I did what I had to do. Do you want to end up out there again?" Enid asked Carl, her voice ice. She looked over at Ron, "You wouldn't last a week—and what about your brother? You're the only family he has now; are you willing to just abandon him?"

"It's not right." Carl said stubbornly. "We have to tell them it was us."

"We're just kids. They won't kick us out." Ron reasoned.

"Are you sure? They were talking about making Carl's dad leave after he went postal on yours..." Enid argued, but then stopped, seeing the discomfort on both boys' faces. What their fathers had done and the horrible outcome at the town meeting was something they avoided talking about.

"They kicked Davidson out for a lot less than murder." Enid continued, still trying to make her point that confessing would get them banished.

"My dad's dead because he killed Reg. So what do you think they'll do to Carol?" Ron asked.

"Daryl won't let them do anything to Carol—he'll protect her." Carl said, but his face betrayed his concern for both of them. He knew how stubborn his father could be once he'd made a judgment about someone. If he thought Carol was guilty and Daryl went against him, it could cause a huge rift as people took sides.

"Then everything's cool, right? She'll be fine. We just keep our mouths shut until this all blows over." Enid said, raising her eyebrows and looking back and forth between the two boys.

"I guess." Ron said slowly, still sounding unsure, but agreeing.

"Carl?" Enid prompted, coming over and running her fingers down his arm until she reached his hand and then laced her fingers through his, looking up at him with a doe eyed expression.

After a few beats Carl nodded yes, frowning.

"You're sure?" Deanna asked Rick, looking dubious. She stood with her arms crossed in front of her looking down at him and Michonne, who sat on one couch in her living room and Carol and Daryl who sat on the one opposite.

"Yeah." Rick mumbled around the ice pack he held over his swollen mouth. Carol was applying a similar one to Daryl's bruised knuckles.

"Playing on someone's guilt is tricky business." Deanna said, "There are some people who just don't feel remorse."

"You do unless you're a psycho." Daryl grunted, sharing a look with Rick and Michonne, "Which I guess this apocalypse does seem to breed like rabbits."

"You can push guilt down, learn to live with it, but it's always there, under the surface, corrupting everything good you try to do. Sooner or later the truth rises and you have to deal with it." Carol said quietly.

"And that's why you're finally ready to tell me then? Your truth?" Deanna asked her.

"My truth?" Carol shook her head and gave the ASZ leader a weary smile. "Taking a life, even to save the lives of others is never easy. Sometimes people can forgive you. If you're lucky maybe even the ones you hurt will...but the truth is...you can never forgive yourself."

"And the people in your group all know—what you did back at the prison you came from?" Deanna asked Carol, who nodded.

"Tyreese wanted them to know he forgave her." Michonne clarified, "He talked to everyone before we got to the church. I don't think Gabriel knew...or Noah...but everyone else does."

"So they know why Rick would suspect her." Deanna nodded. "And we have the evidence—the pie remnants in her garbage."

"'Cept Carol's too smart to make a mistake like that." Daryl said. "Someone put it there to frame her."

"And you agree with that interpretation, Rick?" Deanna asked, narrowing her eyes at her constable. "You trust that Carol didn't have anything to do with what happened to the Wolves?"

Rick looked over at Carol, holding the ice pack to Daryl's hand, looking back at him. That was the Carol he knew—nurturing and protective-the one who'd saved all of their asses at Terminus. He removed his own ice pack and tossed it on the coffee table.

"If she did, she'd admit to it." Rick said with new assurance. "I trust her."

Carol gave him one of her tiny, barely there smiles before looking back at Deanna.

"So we let them think we believe it was Carol; that their frame up worked, then." Deanna said slowly, "To draw them out."

"And we keep investigating." Michonne said. "They made one mistake, they'll have made more.

"Food." Carol said succinctly. "That's what all the deaths have in common. Someone tampered with their food. We need to look at who had access to it—the ingredients, the preparation—"

"The deliveries?" Daryl asked, something Carol had told him earlier registering. "You said when you got reassigned to the Clinic someone else took over the deliveries."

Everyone looked to Carol.

"Oh god." Carol looked back at Daryl with a sick expression. "Enid."

All it took was a good punch in the mouth to wake Rick up, LOL! Daryl should've done it back at the Prison-just sayin'...

Wonder what he'll do when he finds out the part his own son had in the killings?

Thanks for reading! You are all wonderful;-)