Carol faces down a looming threat that could change her and Daryl's lives forever.
Damaged People
"Damaged people are dangerous; they know they can survive." –Josephine Hart
"Can I help you, Brianna?" Carol asked, glad of the weight of her trench knife secure on her hip.
The girl had come into the Pantry looking confused and disheveled, as if she'd slept in her clothes, blouse wrinkled and untucked under an overlarge man's coat, which was unusual. Since she'd come to the ASZ the former Wolves' captive had searched out and worn the most fashionable clothes she could find, figure flattering, just bordering on inappropriately so. She had a body that a Victoria's Secret model would have envied back before the Turn and seemed to enjoy flaunting it. Perfectly styled hair and subtle make-up finished off the look, and in a world where most women barely had time to shower and run a comb through their low maintenance looks, it made her a stand out, the first woman most of the new men noticed, and not in a good way.
"Carol." Brianna said, focusing on her, her eyes over bright and red.
"Is everything okay? You don't look well." Carol inquired carefully. They were alone here at the end of the work day; Olivia had a date with Eugene tonight so she'd sent the happy nervous woman home early to get ready for it.
"Is everything okay?" the younger woman repeated mockingly, closing the door behind her. "No Carol, it's not." she took her hands out of the pockets of her coat and held out them out, covered in blood. The déjà vu was sickening, making Carol's stomach drop at the remembrance of two other blonde sisters.
"Brianna, where's Riley?" Carol asked, her heart in her throat. Her sister was supposed to stay with her while she was at work, which she should be at this time of day. Carol had just been about to lock up the Pantry to go meet Daryl, Eric and Aaron for dinner.
"Doesn't matter." Brianna said, coming closer to Carol, "He had weed—good shit—and I met him there. He had wine, we drank it..."
"We? Was Riley there?" Carol asked, now able to smell the sweet smoky scent of pot on her clothes and skin, the wine on her breath...
"No. Not there. She's just a kid. He only wanted me, said quid pro quo, just me..."
"Quid pro quo? What did he want from you, Brianna?"
"He wanted to fuck me, Carol, everyone wants to fuck me." Brianna snorted, some of her arrogant demeanor returning, her chin coming up in a defiant sneer, "Except Daryl...because of you."
Carol stared at her, the contrast between her appearance and her attitude jarring.
"He was supposed to take care of my problem if I took care of his—criss-cross—so we got high, I fucked him and he was supposed to come here and kill you for me." Brianna said coolly. Then she reached around her back and pulled something out of the waistband of her skinny jeans: a pointed pair of barber shears, the blades and grip also covered in dried blood.
"Stay back." Carol swiftly unsheathed her knife and held it up in a defensive posture, her mind going a mile a minute, calculating all of her options.
"But he was weak. Said he couldn't hurt a pregnant woman, that I was sick for wanting him to." Brianna rolled her eyes and shook her head like a spoiled child denied a treat. "But he didn't understand. You're not. Daryl would never give you a baby. You're lying. That's not his, it's not human." She pointed at Carol's belly with the scissors, "It's a dead thing. You have a walker inside you and when it comes out it's gonna kill him. I have to save him."
"Where's Riley, Brianna?" Carol asked, trying to snap her back into reality, "Where's your little sister?"
"She's just sleeping." Brianna said indignantly, "He gave me a pill for her. I put it in her water. I protect her. I don't hurt her."
Carol didn't relax, but she felt somewhat relieved that the younger girl probably hadn't been harmed. She glanced quickly at the clock on the wall, trying to gauge how late she would have to be before Daryl would come looking for her.
In a fight she could most likely kill the unhinged young woman. She knew that. She was the more experienced fighter, trained by the best. But the idea of one more death on her conscience, one more damaged girl she couldn't save made her hesitate to act.
"I need to go check on Riley, Brianna. You don't know what was in the pill he gave you—was he a doctor? Did he tell you what it was? He could have killed her; we need to see if she's all right." Carol said, trying to drag the girl's attention back to her sister.
Brianna frowned, wincing, stopping her forward momentum as if she'd been slapped.
"A doctor? I don't... he just had them hidden in his car, all his pills and weed and booze. Took me there. She's sleeping there."
"At the motor pool? Carol asked.
"In the back seat of his car." Brianna said, nodding almost robotically as she tried to remember the details. "She's safe there sleeping it off."
"Does he work there? Is that where he took you?"
"Work there? No—he just got here—he's a grunt, working on the Wall, crammed in a house with ten other people. I cut his hair day before yesterday and he liked what he saw." The girl preened, tossing her tangled hair back, the W etched on her forehead visible when her long bangs fell to the side.
"Donnie?" Carol asked. She'd heard Abe grouse about him at the Council meeting—always complaining and missing shifts. The drug use would explain the attitude and lack of work ethic. Shades of Merle.
"Is that his name? I didn't care. Just another prick that wanted to stick it in me. At least he got me high first; said he'd do whatever I wanted if I let him stick it in me. But then he wouldn't so I did it to him instead—right in the gut—I showed him what he was supposed to do." Brianna's voice was cold and she stared at Carol's belly under the empire waisted floral blouse that she wore.
"You didn't put him down?" Carol asked sharply. She'd left a dead man to turn? "Where is he?"
Brianna's head snapped up.
"If he turned he could hurt people, he could hurt Riley. He could hurt Daryl." Carol continued in a forceful but calm tone. "We need to go, Brianna. We need to take care of him."
Brianna looked at the knife in Carol's hand; the look on her face calculating.
"You kill people." Brianna said slowly. "Not just walkers. You kill people."
"When I have to." Carol agreed, hoping the girl would take it as a warning.
"Does it make you?" Brianna said, transfixed on Carol's abdomen again, raising the scissors into a striking pose. "That thing inside you?"
"My baby—Daryl's baby—is an innocent. If you try to hurt me and our baby, I'll stop you." Carol said.
"I'm younger, stronger." Brianna argued, scathing now. "You're slow, old, used up, weighed down."
"And if you succeed?" Carol said evenly, used to being underestimated. "Daryl will kill you."
"Daryl loves me." Brianna said, thrusting out her chin. "When you're gone we'll be together."
"Not if you were the last woman on earth." Carol returned with a sad sigh.
Brianna suddenly launched herself forward with a scream, her scissors aimed at Carol's midsection. Carol spun to the side quickly, in an evasive move, sweeping her leg out to trip the other woman, but she overbalanced, unused to the extra weight, and fell, both their legs tangling together, hitting the ground hard, Brianna on top of her.
Carol grabbed Brianna's wrist, keeping the scissors away from her and kicked out, trying to push the other woman off of her, trying not to just use her knife, refusing to kill if she didn't have to.
Brianna struggled, pushing the scissors down with all her strength towards Carol's throat while using her other hand to grab the older woman's hair cruelly, forcing her head back.
"Please, Brianna! Stop! Don't do this!" Carol cried, her other hand tightening on the brass knuckle handle of her knife, starting to raise it.
"You're dead, bitch!" Brianna said, breathing heavily, a look of triumphant glee twisting her pretty face into something grotesque.
And then she just stopped.
Brianna blinked twice, her mouth coming open and going slack, a warm trickle of blood drooling down on to Carol's face before she collapsed.
Then the blonde was shoved off of Carol roughly and she saw the bolt protruding from the girl's back. Daryl quickly slung his bow behind him and bent to Carol, his strong arms lifting her up, cradling her against his chest, and wiping the blood off her face with his free hand.
"You're okay—I gotcha—it's okay." Daryl said in a voice that tried to be reassuring, but shook from the horror of what he'd walked in on. He saw her unbloodied knife still in her right hand; her fingers gripping the brass knuckle handle it so hard they were white.
"Is she dead?" Carol asked, gulping and wheezing, trying to catch her breath, the adrenaline still making her heart beat a frantic tattoo against her ribs.
"She's stopped." Daryl said with finality. "I'm a' get you to Erin."
"There's a walker—" Carol said hoarsely.
"Won't let her turn; I'll send someone back in." Daryl assured her, kicking the door closed behind them.
"No—she killed someone—new man—Donnie. Don't know where." Carol said, pushing against his chest. "Check the motor pool—drugged Riley n'lef...left her there."
"We got problems here!" Daryl yelled loudly, moving swiftly down off the porch and out into the street.
Carol closed her eyes, letting the peace of being safe in his arms wash over her, losing the fight with herself, drifting into unconsciousness.
When she woke up, she was in one of the Infirmary beds, Riley sitting in the chair beside it, Sam on the bed next to her. Carol could hear voices arguing in the other room.
"Daryl, she's fine, the baby's fine." Yang said in a low conciliatory voice.
"She had her knife—she could a' taken her out—point is she didn't!" Daryl was talking in hushed but angry tones.
"You understand that, don't you?" Claire calmly said to Daryl.
"I brought you some flowers, Miss Carol." Sam said from beside her.
Carol's head turned to the small table beside her. Some early spring jonquils, sun yellow, were crowded into a beaker.
"Look at the flowers, Lizzie."
The sound of her pistol discharging and a small body crumpling to the ground.
"Everything works out the way it's supposed to."
The soft crunch of another little girl's temple as her knife punched through it.
Pushing the sweat soaked dark hair off of the nape of a woman bleeding from her eyes, ears and nose; the razor sharp knife in and out in two seconds, severing her spinal cord and sliding up into her brain. Repeating it in the next bed, the man already comatose. The smell of burning flesh making her hold her bandana tightly to her face...
"Do what you have to do." offering up her life for the ones she'd taken.
"I forgive you." the ghost of a kind man granting absolution...
"Carol?" Riley said more loudly, standing and coming closer to the bed. "Can you forgive me?"
"What?" Carol said, blinking and shaking her head.
"For what my sister did...tried to do...can you forgive me?" Riley asked again, her voice sad.
"It's not your fault." Carol said, struggling to sit up.
Sam reached out both hands to help her and Riley put two pillows behind her.
"I was supposed to watch her, keep her away from you and the baby." Riley said, miserable.
"She was sick." Carol said. "None of us realized how sick she was."
"I should have seen it." Riley insisted. "She was my sister, I should've."
"Don't do that to yourself." Carol said too sharply, her voice rising, making Riley step back in confusion.
That drew Daryl, Claire and Yang from the other room.
Riley looked at Daryl's face, not sure if she saw worry or anger in his scowl and shrank back against the wall when he passed by her to go to Carol.
"Riley." Claire said gently, holding out her hand, "Do you still want to help Rosita?"
"Yes ma'am." the girl said softly, sliding back along the wall towards the door they had just come through.
"Then go on." Claire told her.
"Riley—I'm sorry." Carol said, expressing condolences and also in apology.
Riley took one last look at Carol, nodded and then backed through the door to leave the room.
"She's going to take care of her sister isn't she?" Sam asked soberly. "So we can bury her."
"Yes." Claire said, "It's what we do for the ones we love."
"Why did Brianna try to hurt Miss Carol and her baby?" Sam asked.
"She was...sick, Sam." Claire said, "Damaged by what happened to her...the men who hurt her."
"But they hurt Riley and Mr. Daryl too n' they didn't do bad things." Sam said, indignant.
"Some people aren't as strong as others, Sam." Claire explained, "Their minds can't bounce back from the hurts and help them. They want to blame someone else for what happened to them or they can't face reality."
"Mr. Daryl is strong." Sam nodded vehemently, looking over at Daryl who was now sitting on the side of Carol's bed staring down at her. When he lifted his hand to take Carol's it was shaking.
Yang and Claire exchanged a look.
"Let's give them some privacy to visit with Claire now, okay?" Erin asked Sam.
The boy looked over at Carol again and then ran over to her bed, scooting to the opposite side of where Daryl was and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek and then scrambled away, back to Erin and the two of them left the room.
"She was tryin' to kill you...and our kid!" Daryl said tersely, as soon as Sam was gone. "What the hell were you thinkin'?"
Carol didn't respond, she just stared at him.
"You had this! Why didn't you take her out?" Daryl slammed her knife down on the bedside table, knocking the beaker off level and it tipped over, flowers and water tumbling to the floor in a gush, the glass beaker rolling dangerously close to the edge before stopping, held there by the heavy weight of the knife's handle.
"Daryl." Claire said warningly.
"She wasn't some second chance at savin' Lizzie." Daryl said, taking Carol's shoulders in his hands.
Carol's lips start to quiver as Daryl ran his hands down her arms and took her hands in his.
"Yeah, she was messed up too, I know that, but she went after you—you gotta have some sense of self preservation." Daryl's low gravelly voice sounded afraid, almost desperate. He took her hands and placed them on her belly, laying his over top of them. "Lost too much already...I can't lose you too..."
"Carol, I get what you were thinking—" Claire began.
"I was trying to stop her." Carol interrupted, her voice quiet but adamant, "I was." she looked at Daryl.
"You were?" Daryl said, looking deeply into her eyes.
"I was. I had my knife up..." Carol nodded at him. "But I fell." Tears of frustration filled her eyes, "I didn't want to, but I would, to protect you, to protect our family. I know how to survive."
"I know, shit, I know...that's all you've ever done." Daryl said, pulling her forward into a tight embrace, whispering, "I'm sorry."
He'd been terrified when he'd opened the door to the pantry and saw the scene unfolding in front of him. It was every nightmare he'd had when he thought of leaving her here alone to go out on the run coming true. What if this had happened tomorrow or the day after when he was gone? He could've come home to...what? Another person he loved that he couldn't save? The death of a child he'd never known? No more chances to make things right.
"Takin' her home." Daryl said in a tone that brooked no argument, releasing Carol so he could stand and pull back the blanket and sheet over her, frowning when he realized they had put her in a hospital gown.
"Should check first with Erin." Claire told him.
"Said I'm takin' her home." Daryl growled. "Where'd you put her clothes?"
"Carol?" Claire asked, hoping she would talk some sense into him. She was okay, but bruised up and needed to be monitored for any changes in her or the child's condition.
"He'll take good care of me, Claire." Carol said. "I'd like to sleep in my own bed. I need some normal after today. Especially with him leaving on the run tomorrow."
"Pffft!" Daryl made a loud noise of disagreement, rummaging around in the cabinets on the wall until he found the one that held Carol's clothing.
"What does that mean?" Carol asked him, turning to look at him as he stalked back to the bed with a pile of clothes.
"You coulda died. I ain't goin' nowhere." Daryl announced, "I'm on you like glue, woman. Now put your pants on."
AN: Brianna's delusions finally took their toll, aided by the illicit drugs given to her by another man exploiting her instability. He also paid the price for his duplicity. Carol didn't want to kill the mentally ill young woman, but she was left with no choice, about to do it when Daryl found them and did it instead, sparing her that.
Thanks for reading!