Carl, Enid and Ron face the results of their actions with unexpected consequences for others in the ASZ.
Truth and Consequences
I don't have a skin like you do
To keep it all in like you do
I don't have a soul like you
The only one I have
Is the one I stole from you
Stay awake with me
You know I can't just let you be
Stay awake with me
Take your hand and come and find me
Stay awake with me
You know I can't just let you be
Stay awake with me
Take your hand and come and find me
-"Stay Awake" by London Grammar (via meeshiefeet)
"You're not supposed to be here." Michonne said in a soft harsh voice, looking left and right for any observers before she quickly pulled Daryl inside.
A fairly heavy rain had started to fall about ten minutes ago and the swordswoman had been moving through the house making sure the windows were all closed. Wind-gusts were driving the precipitation in through the screens to wet the floors on the north side of the two story home. It was one of the unfinished ones near the open fields that had been repurposed as pastures and gardens and had been used as storage for the extra furniture and other odds and ends from the occupied houses.
Carol was in the front living room space sitting on the big plush couch, her legs curled up, reading and drinking a cup of tea, for all appearances looking like she was spending a comfortable evening at home after a long day at work. Hearing voices from the back of the house, however, had her sliding a 9mm pistol out from between the couch cushions and holding it in her hand, which she hid under the afghan over her lap.
"Michonne?" Carol called out right before the other woman returned from the back of the house.
"You have company." Michonne said as she came through the door. Carol tensed until she saw the smile on her friend's face. "Your boyfriend just couldn't stay away."
"Daryl?" Carol said, happy, but a bit exasperated, "You don't—"
"Carl confessed—he was in on it with the other two; he's with Rick and Deanna now." Daryl said without preamble.
Carol wilted with relief. She hadn't been looking forward to continuing the charade of being public enemy number one for too much longer.
"That ain't all... Ron got spooked by his chat with Deanna," he paused, swallowing and looking down at the floor before continuing, "Sam over heard him n' Enid arguing 'bout it."
"Sam?" Carol asked, starting to feel unease from Daryl's tone and the guarded look on his face.
"Glenn heard the ruckus—Sam was yellin' at the other two...arguing with them about letting you take the blame. They were on the landing...top of the stairs-Carol, he fell."
"No..." Carol went white.
"Doc's with him now at the Infirmary—Eric's waiting out back with the golf cart to take us there." Daryl said, watching Carol's face, knowing this was exactly what she'd been afraid of.
"How badly is he hurt?" Michonne asked, her voice full of concern. She liked the odd but brave little boy.
"Don't know—Doc just told us to come get Carol, that she needed her help." Daryl replied and then looked back to Carol.
Carol sat immobile on the couch, her eyes wide and almost blank; the only hint of her suppressed emotions the slight trembling of her visible hand as she pushed down the afghan to reveal the pistol she held in the other. Silently, she shook her head back and forth as she laid the gun down on the coffee table in front of her.
Daryl knew she was thinking of the other guns, the one Rick had used for Sophia, the one she had used on Lizzie, the ones she'd stolen from the Armory and threatened Sam over...
"I know you don't want to deal with the shit you got goin' on in your head over this right now, but you're gonna suck it up and come help that kid." Daryl ordered, limping closer and holding out his hand to her. "Com'on."
Carol blinked up at him, a brief look of anger and denial flashing over her face, but the understanding and determination she saw in his made her take a deep breath and reach for his hand.
Rick stood, working hard to steady his breathing; his heart feeling like it was going to leap out of his chest, listening as Carl described everything he, Ron and Enid had done to rid the community of the Wolves who had been held captive.
Part of his brain was focused on the account his son was giving, but part was engaged in listening to the running fragments of long ago conversations going on inside his head.
"He said what you did with Sophia was right—that he would've done it himself...your son...he's becoming hard, Rick..." Lori said, worried for their son.
"Do it, Dad..." Carl said with relish, watching his father point a gun at a boy's head in a barn.
"He shot that boy, Rick—I was there—Carl didn't have to; he was surrendering..."Hershel said forcefully.
"You didn't kill Andrew when you had the chance and he killed mom... the Governor killed Axel and you were alone with him and you let him live and he killed Merle. Go finish this before he kills any more of us..." Carl dropped the seven pointed star with a tinny clank onto the pavement.
"Do you have to like what I did? No—I don't, but at least I stepped up—I did something." Carol said with disdain.
"None of them get to live..." Rick told the survivors of Terminus.
"I made you a promise..." he said to Gareth and the red machete swung.
"Do it, Rick!" Deanna ordered and he fired.
Had he done this to his son? Made him willing to kill so easily? Willing to go behind the Council's back and act to eliminate a threat? Just like Carol had done at the prison when he had stayed back from leadership? Just like they had planned to take this place if they had to? Was it his inaction, his hesitation? Or was it those times when he had acted, taking out a perceived threat, Shane, Tomas, Gareth and his people at the church? Was it the mixed messages? Or was it just the fucked up world they lived in now? Where everyone had to be willing to kill to survive...
Daryl had taken Rick aside when he'd brought Carl in, telling him to go easy on him, that it went deeper than he knew, told him to go talk to the new woman, the therapist, Claire about everything that had happened since the quarry. Had it really only been two years? Two years was a lifetime ago...
"Rick?" Deanna was talking to him, "Why don't you leave Carl here while you go get Michonne for back up to bring the others in? Tell Carol thank you for her help and she can go home as well."
"I should go—talk to Ron and Enid first." Carl said, "So they don't..." he looked to his father with a very adult expression that Rick recognized, that of a concerned leader; clearly worried that his friends might get hurt trying to resist being brought in. "I don't want anybody to get hurt."
"Too late for that." Glenn said, coming onto the room followed by Maggie and Abe, escorting Enid and Ron, who had been crying.
"I need to be with Sam—please Mrs. Monroe." Ron asked, looking sick, pulling against the grip Abe had on his arm.
"What happened to Sam?" Deanna asked, looking to Glenn who restrained a sullen Enid.
"He was arguing with them and fell down the stairs at the house. Rosita went for Dr. Yang and they took him to the Clinic." Maggie said, glaring at Enid and Ron.
"He wouldn't shut up..." Ron said defensively, "I told him to, but he wouldn't shut up! He said he knew we killed them-"
"You need to shut up." Enid snapped, bucking against the hold Glenn had on her to lunge at Ron.
Furious, Carl moved quickly to come between the two of them.
"I told them." Carl said forcefully, pushing back on Ron's chest, "I already told them! You didn't have to hurt Sam!"
"It was an accident!" Ron whimpered, his head falling to his chest. "He got in the way—we were just trying to leave!"
"They had back packs full of food and supplies." Maggie said, tossing the two full bags down on the floor in front of everyone.
"You were going over the wall?" Carl asked, incredulous. This was something they hadn't discussed with him—Enid had even sneered at the possibility of Ron being capable of surviving outside.
"What they're going to do to us isn't it?" Enid accused, half of her face hidden by her long bangs. "Don't you get it? Golden boy Carl would get off scot free because his dad is the law and we'd be made an example of."
Rick scowled and took a step towards her, but Deanna looked sorrowfully at the girl.
"If you think I would send two children who have lost almost everything but their lives, out there...then you don't get it." The ASZ leader said quietly. She turned to Maggie then and asked how Sam was doing.
"Daryl went to get Carol." Maggie said, and the shimmer in her eyes along with the way her mouth went tight as she suppressed her tears told them how bad it probably was.
"His left shoulder is out—you have experience with this, yes?" Yang asked Carol, who stood at the foot of the examining table staring down at Sam, eyes closed, pale and immobile, still in his pajamas. They had Star Wars characters on them.
"She does." Daryl said softly from beside her.
Carol felt Daryl's hand on her arm, squeezing it until she looked up at him. He nodded at her; just a brief reassuring bob of his head as he released her arm, but it was enough to let her move around the side of the table where she quickly helped the doctor position and manipulate the arm so the shoulder could be popped back into place. Securing it with a length of fabric made into a sling, Yang next gently rolled the boy to his side and lifted the ice pack so Carol could see the swelling knot on the back of his head and then returned him to his original position.
"Without any kind of scan I don't know if it's a simple concussion or hematoma or brain swelling—he has a slow pupil reaction on this side—Maggie said he wasn't breathing after he fell and she did CPR—but he's been awake since he got here, though very subdued." Yang explained and Carol nodded, lips pursed in concentration, taking in what she was being told about his symptoms.
"He asked for you." Daryl added quietly.
Carol looked down at the helpless child, everything in her fighting the urge to reach out and lay a comforting hand on his brow. As she watched, his eyes opened and that brow drew together in a frown.
"Miss Carol?" Sam rasped, "Are you okay? I was so worried about you."
Daryl watched the indecision war on Carol's face.
"He needs to talk—to stay awake—for a few hours until we're sure there are no neurological problems." Yang said. "Can you stay with him? Rosita already went, but I need to go too; I have to go; Felicia's having contractions—probably just Braxton-Hicks, but I want to be sure."
Carol looked trapped, glanced back at Daryl, who pulled a chair over to the head of the table and sat down, indicating that he'd stay too, and in doing so helping her decide. She nodded in agreement, not having uttered a word since she came into the Clinic.
Yang gathered her medical bag and hurried out, leaving Carol and Daryl alone with Sam. The boy looked up at Carol expectantly when she turned back to him. She reached down and tentatively brushed his sweaty bangs off of his forehead, but still didn't speak.
"How's your head feel, buddy?" Daryl asked, leaning forward in the chair to he could see Sam better.
"Hurts..." he admitted, "...but it's not the first time. My mom said thank God I got a hard head." his big blue eyes looked sadder talking about his mother, and Daryl sobered, realizing that he probably meant he'd had similar injuries from his father's hand.
Carol gave a little sharp intake of breath, drawing the boy's attention back to her.
"I'm okay—really." Sam assured her. "I'm supposed to tell you..." his voice trailed off and he looked perplexed, "The rainbow girl said..." he suddenly murmured, stunning Carol and Daryl both.
"What? What did you say?" Carol asked, jarred out of her silence.
"She's in the quiet place—with my mom. She said to—the rainbow girl said I'm supposed to tell you..." Sam said, struggling to remember something.
"Sam, what do you mean about the rainbow girl? Did Carl tell you about her?" Carol accused him, angry and fearful at the same time, seeing the dirty little blue shirt her daughter had been wearing that day, the one with the curved stripes of color emblazoned across the front, her favorite.
"Carol—" Daryl cautioned.
"No. Carl wasn't there." Sam shook his head in denial, but then stopped, looking a bit dizzy.
Carol looked back at Daryl in disbelief.
Daryl rose and came forward, standing slightly behind Carol so she could lean on him if she needed to.
"Just my mom and some yellow-haired girls and some nice big guys who knew Miss Carol too!" Sam continued, "I remember that boy Noah was with one of the blonde girls and they smiled a lot and one of the big guys asked about Judith and Sasha."
"Sam? You know it's not nice to make up stories." Daryl cautioned carefully, not wanting to upset him.
"I saw my mom!" Sam said adamantly. "She was happy there, but she said she missed us—me and Ron..." he looked sad again.
Carol was rigid; Daryl's arm went around her waist.
"The rainbow girl said the same thing—that she was happy, but missed—that she missed her mom." Sam said, a bit wistfully.
Carol turned and leaned her head onto Daryl's shoulder and he could feel the hot tears soaking into his shirt.
"Stop..." Carol said, so softly Daryl almost missed it; he tightened his grip on her.
"I said I wanted to stay there with my mom," Sam continued sadly, "...but they said I had to go back."
Daryl could feel how fast Carol's heart was beating, fighting it, denying to herself the possibility that what Sam was saying was true.
"They said that you needed me to make the good outa the bad. So I came back." Sam frowned hopefully at Carol, "Is that right? Do you need me? I can help you—I know how to shoot now. I can fight." he added proudly, with a small smile at Daryl.
Hearing the words to Bob and Sasha's little game come out of Sam's mouth, something that he had no way of ever hearing before, made Carol gasp and turn to look down at him.
"Miss Carol?" Sam grunted a bit, pushing himself up into a half sitting position, leaning on his uninjured arm. "Are you okay?"
"It's not possible." Carol said, her breath hitching, her fingers digging into Daryl's side.
"Sam—do you know—do you remember—what was the rainbow girl's name?" Daryl asked hoarsely.
"Sure!" the boy said brightly, "I 'member because she said to remember it starts with the same letter as mine, and if you asked I was supposed to give you something—well, give Miss Carol something."
"What is it Sam?" Daryl asked.
"I need a pencil and paper, please." Sam asked politely.
Daryl eased Carol away from him so he could grab the pen and legal pad on which Yang had been making notes on Sam's condition and hand it to the boy.
While Sam worked Daryl watched Carol struggle to hold it together. He took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together and her eyes met his, grateful for the support. Daryl leaned in and kissed her cheek and she brought her hand up to hold his face close.
"Here," Sam announced, holding out his paper.
Carol pulled back from Daryl and looked down at the paper, silently taking it from him, her hand shaking when she saw what he had drawn. She handed it to Daryl and then took the few steps forward she needed to sit on the side of the exam table and take Sam in her arms.
Daryl held the carefully rendered but child-like drawing of a white flower with five teardrop shaped petals... underneath which was written the name, Sophia.
AN: Sam's near death experience allowed Sophia to help Carol see she needs to let him in. (Snuck a little Boah & Tyreese in there too.)
Thanks for reading!
Congratulations to MMB, AL & the show for their well deserved Saturn Awards wins!