Alexandria mourns one of its own.
Everything That Falls Gets Broken
"Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity."
-The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats
"Get out!" Maggie screamed raggedly, her fist connecting with Daryl's jaw again.
"Maggie, stop!" Aaron cried, trying to grab her, but she evaded him and kicked the back of Daryl's knee knocking him off balance before she hit him again, a roundhouse to his gut.
Daryl wasn't fighting back. He doubled over, but then struggled upright again to face her, spitting blood.
"You fucking coward! He's dead because of you!" Maggie yelled at Daryl, hitting him again, this time bloodying his nose. When he reeled back Maggie grabbed the knife from the smaller sheath at his belt.
"Maggie, you know it wasn't Daryl's fault." Aaron argued. "It could've been any one of us Negan chose!"
"He was supposed to go!" Maggie bit out, backing Daryl into the table where Glenn's body lay covered with a sheet, holding the knife to his throat. "Not Glenn!" she sobbed."He might as well have killed him himself!"
"Enough Maggie." Carol said forcefully, and the sound of a round being chambered brought everyone's attention to her. She stood in the doorway holding her snub nose 9 mm handgun two handed, pointing it at Maggie. She was pale, her jacket, an oversized hoodie to fit over her belly, was half unzipped, her flannel night shirt showing underneath, her thin legs encased in black yoga pants, feet shoved quickly into her boots, half unbuckled.
She'd been asleep on the first floor couch when Sam had come running in, looking for Rick or Michonne to break up the fight that had begun when Daryl had tried to talk to Maggie, to somehow apologize and express sympathy for her loss—for all of their losses—over Glenn.
The shock of the news had brought Daryl back to himself after his fugue from the night before, when his flashback had made him unable to distinguish dream from reality.
Real life and death was a nightmare he understood.
"Lower the knife and let him go, Maggie." Rick said, coming in behind Carol, his Python drawn and pointing at her as well. "He just came to pay his respects."
"He was supposed to go!" Maggie repeated, the knife, Beth's knife, so finely honed by Daryl, pressed closer to his neck and a drop of blood pooled and ran down from where it touched his skin, soaking into the collar of his shirt.
Daryl stood perfectly still, not arguing with her. Everything she said was right.
"Killing Daryl won't bring Glenn back." Rick said to Maggie, quiet and calm, coming closer, standing next to the examining table.
"Did you see what they did to him?" Maggie sobbed, asking Daryl, glancing at the shrouded remains.
"Maggie don't." Aaron said. He'd witnessed the younger man's horrific death and knew better than anyone what was under that sheet.
"Look!" Maggie screamed, ignoring him, ripping off the cloth that covered the body of her husband.
As used to the mangled remains of the dead as they were, it was an abomination to see what Negan had done. If Morgan, Michonne, Aaron and Jessica hadn't witnessed the murder first hand, it would've been impossible to tell the victim had been Glenn. He hadn't merely hit him in the head with the vicious weapon, a modern mace made from razor wire and aluminum; he'd beaten it to an unrecognizable bloody pulp.
"Fuck." Daryl whispered, closing his eyes against the image, his look of grief profound.
"Oh God..." Carol said, fighting her tears to keep her aim steady, but swaying a bit.
"Maggie, please." Rick pleaded, putting his Colt on the examining table, his hands held up to show her he wasn't carrying any more weapons. "Carol put down your gun." he ordered.
"Not until she lets Daryl go." Carol said, her voice steely again.
"I know what you're feeling, both of you, but this isn't what we do." Rick said gently. "Maggie..."
"I've lost... everything..." Maggie said, "What did I ever do to deserve that?"
"We've all lost someone, Maggie." Rick said, "None of us deserved it. Carol didn't deserve to see her daughter come out of that barn a walker; are you going to stand there and tell me that she deserves to lose the man she loves too?"
Maggie shook her head and tightened her grip on Daryl, more blood flowing from the wound in his neck
"Would Glenn want you to do this? Would Hershel? Beth?" Rick asked her, "Is this how you honor them?"
Maggie faltered, knowing she was wrong, but so deep in her misery and grief that she fought it..
"It's okay, Maggie. I understand..." Daryl said softly, his voice rising in sympathy, wincing against the pain, "Do what ya gotta do." He raised his chin and closed his eyes, his shoulders relaxing, giving up.
"Daryl, no!" Carol cried, recognizing the tone of resignation in his voice; it was almost exactly what she'd said to Tyreese when she'd slid him the gun across the table after confessing to killing Karen. Her vision seemed to waver, blurring at the edges and she swayed, fighting the waves of dizziness, but then her knees just gave out and she spiraled to the ground with an angry helpless cry, landing on her side in a heap.
Faster than a distracted Maggie could react, Daryl spun back and brought his hand up to block the knife at his throat and grabbed her wrist, twisting it until she dropped the blade, and then he kicked it towards Aaron.
"Rick!" Daryl said, pushing Maggie towards him and then going to Carol.
Rick subdued Maggie, holding her against him until she stopped fighting and dissolved into painfully raw sobs.
All of this happened in less than fifteen seconds from the time Carol hit the ground.
"Get Erin!" Daryl yelled at Aaron, picking up Carol's gun and putting it in the back waist band of his jeans and then scooping her up. He carried her to one of the beds along the wall and laid her down, checking her carotid pulse, feeling her forehead and looking her over.
"The fuck you thinkin'?"Daryl knelt on his knees next to the bed and held Carol's hand, looking sick and scared, "Didn't have to come chargin' in here after me!"
Aaron was already out the door, calling for the doctor who had left to go get some dinner before Daryl's arrival.
"Not your fault." Carol said in a forced whisper. "Glenn...not your fault... know you...blame yourself..."
"Rosita! Cover him up." Erin said as she strode through the room, past Glenn's body, followed by her nurse. "Give Maggie a sedative and then have someone take her home." she paused briefly to slather her hands and lower arms in hand sanitizer before coming over to Carol's bed.
Rick and Rosita tended to Maggie while Erin put on her stethoscope and bent to check Carol's vital signs, attaching the blood pressure cuff, working quickly.
"Take off her boots, leggings, and any underwear so I can do an exam." she ordered Daryl.
"Is she okay?" Daryl asked the doctor as he did what she asked.
"I need to check her over before I can know what's going on—what happened?" Erin asked.
"She looked dizzy—her eyes was all funny and then she just started going down—" Daryl said, guilt laden. He'd caused this too...
"I've... been spotting... all morning." Carol said softly, her eyes fluttering open. Even her vaunted strength and stoicism was having a hard time withstanding the shock of hearing about Glenn and then Sam's panicked summons to the Infirmary. Seeing Maggie ready to cut Daryl's throat? It was too much.
"What?" Daryl asked, in a softly shocked voice.
"It's normal to spot in the third trimester." Erin said calmly, "I need to make sure it's nothing else, okay?" She put a blanket drape over Carol's legs and then raised them into position so she could examine her.
Daryl looked over to see Rick carrying an unconscious Maggie in his arms. He paused to let Rosita open the door for him. The scene was so reminiscent of him carrying Beth out of Grady that Daryl had to close his eyes and turn away.
It was too much. All of it.
Daryl dropped his chin to his chest and had to bite his lip, overwhelmed with the urge to just get up and run, find his bike and just go—leave—get outside the walls and just ride away from the fucking mess he'd made of everything. They'd all be better off without him. He'd broken everything precious and good he'd ever had.
He started to pull away, but felt Carol's small callused hand tighten on his.
"Don't." Carol said, her quiet voice rough with tears. "No matter what—just don't. I can't lose you too."
Christ, what was he doing? Daryl thought, opening his eyes and looking down at her pale face. He met her eyes then and saw her fear and sadness, equal to his own. She'd loved Glenn too, was probably blaming herself for being the reason Daryl had stayed, was terrified she was losing the baby and he'd been thinking of running away and leaving her to deal with all of that on her own. He was better than that now—she'd helped make him better than that.
"Ain't goin' nowhere." Daryl said firmly and Carol's lips curled into a hopeful little rueful smile.
"Good to hear." Erin said, removing the stethoscope from her ears, dropping the blanket back down and gently lowering Carol's legs to the bed. "Carol—you're going to have to take the bed rest order as absolute if you want to have this baby anywhere near to full term."
"They're okay?" Daryl asked all in a relieved rush.
"Yes. For now. The baby's heart rate is on the high end of the acceptable range and the bleeding has stopped. Carol, your heart rate and blood pressure are higher than I'd like, but knowing what just happened, it's understandable." The doctor sat down on the bed next to Carol and looked at both of them with a sober expression.
Carol looked at Daryl, mirroring his look of tentative relief.
"You cannot let this kind of stress happen any more if at all possible—you already have risk factors for pre-eclampsia which can be very dangerous even with the best of modern medicine available." Yang told them.
"So what do we need to do next?" Daryl asked, a determined look on his face.
"I want to do a blood test and a proteinuria urine test and she needs to have her blood pressure monitored regularly." The doctor said. "Then she needs quiet and rest—I'd keep her here in the Infirmary, but with..." she looked over at the shrouded body on the table, "...I think it's best you take her home."
"But who will take care of Glenn?" Carol fretted. She'd wanted to give him that final care, prepare his body as she'd done for Andrea and Tyreese and Beth and so many of their family before.
"You don't gotta." Daryl said, quietly amazed but not surprised to hear her thinking of everyone but herself again.
"Tara and me." Rosita said, coming forward, her eyes red from her tears. "We loved him too."
Carol stared at her and then finally nodded, her tears for her friends, her family, for all of their losses trailing down her face.
"Let's get that cut cleaned up before you go." Erin said, gesturing at Daryl's throat. "See if I need to throw in a stitch or two or if I can just glue it."
Rosita was setting out the alcohol prep and a suture kit for her on the tray stand near the exam table.
"And here—Aaron said to give this back to you." Erin said as she stood, handing Daryl the smaller knife, the one that had been Beth's, that Carol had given him. Daryl had to release Carol's hand to take it and replaced it in the sheath and then he stood.
"You should go." Carol said, looking at Daryl over the top of her mug of hot cocoa he had brought her along with a plate of cookies he and Sam had made as a snack. She was up in their room, which had been augmented with a small entertainment system in the form of a rechargeable DVD player, piles of books and a box of DVDs and CDs. There was also a thermometer, stethoscope and blood pressure cuff on the end table, a crate of bottled water, boxed juices that didn't need refrigeration, saltines and a few small jars of home canned applesauce.
Glenn's funeral was this morning and everyone else in the house had already headed for the cemetery a few minutes ago.
"Don't think she wants me there." Daryl replied. He'd failed Maggie over and over. He hadn't found the Governor and Hershel had died, he'd lost Beth and then Grady had happened, and now Glenn...
Carol gave him a narrow eyed look.
"'Sides—need to stay here n' look after you." Daryl said, setting down the plate of cookies and sitting down on the bed next to her. He'd barely left her side since he'd carried her home last night.
"Gray's on guard duty on the porch, Riley will be here with Judith and Sam's staying with me—we're starting our chess tournament." Carol deflected his objection; the boy had already been to too many funerals and had asked permission to stay home. Daryl wasn't going to get the same. "You need to go—for you. You've known Glenn longer than almost anyone here."
"You knew him just as long." Daryl said. She and Carl were the only two other original survivors besides him from the quarry Camp before Rick's arrival. They'd seen Glenn go from an exuberant capable kid to a formidable caring man.
"That's right—and I can't go, so you need to be there for the both of us." Carol said, wrapping up her argument. "It's important Daryl."
"She blames me, Carol." Daryl intoned flatly, "Hell, I blame me."
"I know you'd trade your life for any one of us." Carol told him, leaning against his shoulder, "Maggie knows that too, or she will, once she gets a little distance from this." she didn't say 'get over it,' because she knew Maggie never would—what was it Andrea used to say? You don't forget; you just make room for it...
"So I'm supposed to accept that Glenn traded his for mine?" Daryl said, his voice troubled and low as he looked down at the floor, his hands clenched.
"It was random. The luck of the draw—you heard what Aaron said: it could have been any one of them. This man, Negan, he's another Governor, another one like the woman I left for dead at Terminus—he's twisted and sick. The sooner we can put him down the better." Carol put her hand over his fist, unsurprised to find it trembling with barely contained agitation.
"Ain't no place safe no more." Daryl said, despair under lacing his words, "there's always goin' to be another one a' these assholes tryin' to take what's ours."
Carol reached up her other hand and turned his face to hers, her hand cupping his cheek.
"We're still here." she said with gentle forcefulness. "And so we keep fighting—we never give up—that's what you taught me." she told him.
Daryl looked into her eyes and saw her love, saw her hope underlying the sadness over the death of their friend.
"We're still here." Daryl repeated, sounding calmer, letting her pull him into her arms.
The assembled, which was most of the town's residents except those on watch or too young or ill to join them, stood at the graveside. Rick, wearing his constable's uniform, stood next to Carl and Michonne. Maggie stood between Tara and Sasha, who watched over her, as did Abraham and Rosita who stood right behind her along with Eugene: GREATM without its 'G'.
"When all of this started, I was helped to find my family by two men who saved my life. One of them gave me shelter and taught me how to survive in this new reality. I will be always in his debt for that." Rick looked over at Morgan, who acknowledged him with a slight nod, his face remaining stoic. "The second, Glenn, saved me when my ignorance had me trapped up that proverbial creek without a paddle. He gave me a way out and helped reunite me with the people I loved. I will be forever grateful to him for everything he was to me...to all of us."
Rick stepped back and looked at the crowd, motioning anyone else who wished to speak forward.
Tara took a small step towards the grave.
"Glenn never lost hope. Even after everything we went through. He saved my life and gave me a reason to keep going." Tara said, wiping her eyes, willing herself through what she needed to say, "His devotion and love for Maggie and the rest of his family was more...more..." but she couldn't finish, her tears blinding her.
Eugene went to her, putting his arm around her side in support.
"I do not expect that I will ever be as good a man as Glenn was. He was kind and brave and strong and good and I will miss him the rest of my life." Eugene said, and then even his flat demeanor broke, tears running down his face as Tara pulled him in, embracing him in a hug.
Others came forward, saying their eulogies one after another, an outpouring of love and grief, trying to comfort Maggie and make sense of their loss.
Through it all Daryl stood at the edges, right behind Aaron and Eric. He was absently touching the rough edges of the bandage at his neck with the tips of his fingers when he felt someone's gaze on him.
Maggie found and met his eyes. 'I'm sorry,' she mouthed silently.
The corner of Daryl's mouth tilted in a sad small smile of understanding, which she returned before they both looked back to watch and listen to Abraham's colorful goodbye.
They'd get through this. They always did. In one form or another, the broken would be mended and they'd go on.
From his vantage point in the tallest lob-lolly pine tree of the grove outside the city walls, Paul Monroe, whose beard and long hair had led his friends to give him the nickname 'Jesus,' watched the ceremony through his binoculars, noting with approval that the people here still held to the traditions of mourning the dead, something Negan and his so-called Saviors did not do.
It was a good sign.
-The Second Coming by Yeats is a poem about the Apocalypse and the expectation of the return of the Christian savior, Jesus Christ.
Note: In the comics Rick is the one who Maggie blames for Glenn's death (it happens in front of them) and she goes after him in the same way I have her attacking Daryl in this chapter. Carl is the one who pulls the gun to stop her in the canon comic version.