Inside one of the old schoolrooms Carol heard a motorcycle engine roar to life. She knew who it belonged to. A part of her wanted to leave the desk and go to the big window and look out, to see him one last time, but another part held her back. It was for the best. She didn't have anything to offer him anymore. She wasn't sure if she'd had anything to offer for a good while. And now, with everything that she'd heard happen with her old family and Negan… How could she comfort him when all she felt herself was pain and guilt? These people in the Kingdom, they had never known the old Carol, she could be whoever she wanted. 'But wasn't that the same with Alexandria? And look how well that went…' a small voice inside her head said to her. Yes, but here no one from her old family was present, not until Daryl had showed up. Morgan had left the Kingdom after a couple of days, said he needed to get back to Rick and she'd been so relieved. That bastard buggered her to no end. 'He was right though…' Yeah, yeah but she slept better after he left. Ezekiel was a wonderful personality and it had felt good to be helping people again, teaching children. This time she would do it right. It felt right. And then a half-dead Daryl had showed up and the world came crashing in again. She couldn't deal with it, she just couldn't. She had went to see him in the infirmary and he had smiled at her through his drug-induced haze and she had smiled back involuntary because he had looked so childlike and happy to see her, but then she had learned what happened and it was just too much. She couldn't let the feelings get to her. It wasn't possible.
She knew she was hurting him the next couple of weeks of his recovery. She could see the sadness in his eyes whenever he cast her a glance, and it was hard not to give in. But it was for the best. It just was. There was too much pain between them now. The damage was already done.
Daryl felt himself relax on the rumbling bike. This was life. The crisp smell of fall and all the warm colors of dying leaves rushed past him, the morning sun on his back. These Virginian back roads were relatively clear of obstacles so he was going quite fast. It felt really good. The Sportster was down right awesome. As he came to the crossing where he was supposed to turn north to Alexandria he stopped and looked up the road. He should go there. He pictured himself turning up in front of the Alexandria gates, pictured all the worried looks of people as he entered the town, Rick, Carl, Michonne, Judith… but no Carol. And everyone looked sad and tired, like all hope was gone. He sighed and looked down on the silver metallic gas tank, it had a slight cerulean hew. It was real pretty. Like someone he used to know. The engine chugged on in idle, like it was saying "Come on, take me for a longer drive. You know you deserve it".
He really should go home and help, like he always did. Like he always did… Fuck. What had he honestly helped accomplish lately? Nothing. Just more death. No, fuck this! He suddenly felt insanely tired, like he could sleep for a week and still feel tired. He couldn't go back, he needed to breathe, to heal, to not feel so fucking tired. He needed a vacation. He had never had one. He had never seen the ocean. He had never done anything for himself. He had followed Merle around and then he followed Rick around and fuck he was tired of it. He looked up and gazed down the southbound road. It stretched out through the forest for some hundreds yard and then it turned left round a small wooded hill. He wondered what the world looked like behind that curve. He could just do a slight detour, go back to Alexandria tomorrow. It was a beautiful day. He could maybe scout a town for a new bow or another weapon, hunt some game and just be. The world seemed uncommonly walker-free today and it would hella stupid not to take advantage of that. Yeah, just one more day.