Chapter Eighteen

Daryl was still awake when the first streaks of pink lightened the sky and the first trill of birdsong split the air. He was so exhausted, but he couldn't bring himself to sleep. He'd dozed on and off, only to jerk awake at the slightest sound. Sophia was restless, and though she never woke, she tossed and turned throughout the night. Carol, on the other hand, had wept until she'd fallen into a state of unconsciousness. He could only figure the stress of the attack and the loss of so many in their group had finally caught up with her.

Daryl's innate desire to protect his girls had kept him in a fitful state. He couldn't go to sleep with no one on guard. He didn't trust those yahoos, their self-appointed leaders. He missed his brother. They had a system for protecting one another, a routine they stuck to in order to guard what little they had. It just didn't work without Merle. Now after Rick and the others had so readily abandoned the eldest Dixon in Atlanta, he wasn't even sure he wanted to remain a part of the group. He thought perhaps he and Carol could take Sophia and go off on their own.

But the longer he thought about it, the more he wanted to discard that plan. Carol had made friends among the women, and it would be selfish of him to take her away from them. She needed the companionship they offered, having had to do without it during the years she'd lived with Ed. And how could he possibly separate Sophia from Carl. She'd already lost Merle … at least for the time being. He didn't doubt Merle would show up the moment he least expected it. He just couldn't do it. He'd just have to suck it up and play nice. He groaned, his arms tightening around the woman in his arms. He'd do it for them, no matter how much he just wanted to run.

Daryl's fingers kneaded the knot of tension at her nape as she gave that little gasp he was becoming familiar with which signaled her waking. She moved to sit up, but he held her in place. "It's still early," he whispered.

Carol yawned and relaxed back into his embrace, turning her face up to look at him. Her eyes widened as she took in his haggard appearance. "Oh, Daryl … you look awful. Didn't you sleep at all?"

He could just imagine the dark circles beneath his eyes and the lines of fatigue around his mouth, not to mention he needed a bath in the worst way after fighting geeks last night. "Naw, couldn't sleep. Guess I had too much on my mind."

Carol stretched like a kitten and shook off his embrace with a wry smile. "Sorry I cried all over you last night, but thank you … for being there for me."

Daryl sat up beside her and ducked his head, chewing anxiously at his thumbnail. He knew that look, their conversation having the potential to get deep. It was far too early to drag out his feelings to examine them. "S'nothin'," he waved her off, reaching for his boots. "C'mon, we need t' see what's goin' on this mornin'. Somethin's gonna have to be done with the bodies." Some good hard physical labor would hopefully distract him from having to think about Merle or his confusing feelings towards Carol and how he'd reacted when he couldn't find her last night.

Carol reached for her own boots. "Should I wake Sophia?"

"Naw, let 'er sleep. She tossed and turned all night. Let her wake on her own." He picked up his bow and slipped out of the tent into the humid morning air to wait for her.

*.*.*

Lori lifted a hand in greeting as Carol walked down the hill, Daryl at her side. The deputy's wife looked just as haggard as the rest of them where she sat beside the communal fire stirring a pot of oatmeal. Carol returned the gesture and nodded at Rick and Shane as they came over to talk to Daryl. Another fire had been started some distance away which they were using to dispose of the bodies of the walkers. Their own would be buried in the graves Jim had dug the day before during his meltdown. They'd all worried about the man as he'd talked about the prophetic dream he'd had which had propelled him into madness. Who would have thought it would come true?

Daryl looked dubiously down at the bowl Lori handed him, but began to eat anyway. He'd need to rebuild his flagging strength for what the day would bring. He frowned as Carol declined Lori's offering. "Make sure she eats," he said to the brunette before he chose a pickaxe to begin helping the others. He left with a short warning to Carol not to wander off. After what had happened yesterday, he didn't want her far from his sight.

She nodded, her eyes coming to settle on Andrea's still vigil over her sister's prone form. "She been there all night?"

Shane gave her a tired look. "Yeah, won't talk to us, and won't leave Amy's side."

"She can't stay like that," Rick said. "We all know she's gonna turn. It needs to be dealt with."

Carol glared at him coldly as she rose to her feet. "You're going to win tons of friends with that attitude, Rick Grimes."

A muscle twitched in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. "I'm not trying to win friends, Carol. I'm trying to protect this group from another threat," he hissed.

Carol kept her anger in check, knowing if their argument were overheard, Daryl would come running, and he didn't need another excuse to hate the man. "I understand your concern, but your lack of tact is neither wanted nor appreciated. Andrea just lost her sister … her family. Dig deep and find a little sensitivity."

Both he and Shane looked down guiltily as she walked away to comfort her friend.

Carol walked the short distance to the Winnebago and dropped to her knees beside Andrea, tears misting her eyes as she stared down at Amy's bloody corpse. She drew her friend into her arms and held her tightly. "I'm so sorry," she choked out for want of anything better to say.

Andrea rested her head against Carol's shoulder and let herself go. Jacqui and Lori had both come to offer their condolences earlier and she'd been able to hold her emotions in check. But this was Carol. Carol who openly showed her love for everyone, especially her friends. She was no match for that kind of tenderness, the dam of emotion lodged inside her breaking free.

Carol stroked a hand over Andrea's platinum locks, cooing softly. "That's it, honey, let it out." She could feel her friend's pain and it broke her heart. Her own tears fell freely. "I loved her too."

"H-How am I supposed to do this without her?" the blonde wept.

Carol leaned back and met Andrea's tearful gaze, her hands resting on her shoulders. "Because she wouldn't want you to give up. Amy would want you to be strong and survive, to do what you can to go on. Whether you believe it or not, we need you."

Andrea tucked her head beneath Carol's chin and stared lovingly down at her sister. "How can I just let her go? Both Lori and Shane have come over here trying to take her from me," she said bitterly. "I c-can't just let him … "

"I know," Carol replied sympathetically. "They are just worried … about when she turns."

Andrea straightened her shoulders and swiped angrily at her tears. "It has to be me, Carol. I have to have time to say goodbye, but I won't let her be put down by one of them."

Carol understood all too well her friend's desire. Amy deserved to have it done by someone who'd loved her. Who better than the sister who'd cherished her? "I'll talk to them … make them understand."

She gave Andrea's shoulder a final squeeze and left her to mourn in peace. Rick was waiting when she returned to the fire. "Well … Is she going to let us take her? I promise, Carol, we'll be as gentle as possible."

Carol laid her hand on his arm. "Leave her be, Rick. This is something she needs to do herself." When he opened his mouth to protest, she cut him off. "If this is how she finds closure, you have to let her. What if it were Lori? Or Carl? Wouldn't you want to be the one to finish it and lay them to rest?"

It finally all clicked into place for him and he nodded sadly. Dale, having heard their exchange, promised to stick close and help her should she need him. Carol sat back next to Lori, intending to discuss what they could do to help, yet before she could open her mouth, Jacqui came running over to inform them Jim had been bitten in the attack.

"What?" Lori gasped.

"No!" Carol said, her gaze quickly searching out the man as the men surrounded him. T-Dog was forced to restrain him as panic had him ready to flee. "He hid it from us?"

"Look how they're acting. It's no wonder," Jacqui retorted.

Carol hurried over to Daryl's side as they all began to argue. He was all for putting him down, long before the man could succumb to the fever spreading through him. "Daryl -"

He cut her off. "Go back t' th' tent woman," he ordered, chewing the inside of his lip.

She bristled. "Why? Because you say so?"

He shot her a look of disgust. "No! I don't want Sophia wakin' up an' comin' down here t' see this, an' I sure as hell don't want her anywhere near Jim."

Rick kept arguing with Shane about where they should go when they left the quarry. "I heard the CDC was workin' on a cure. Maybe we could take Jim there, get him the help he needs."

"Nah," Shane protested. "Fort Benning would be our best bet. They'll have food, medicine, guns. We'll be protected there."

"And what if he turns before we get there? Benning's a hundred miles in th' other direction," Daryl growled. "Y' think I'ma let Carol or Sophia anywhere near him, much less ride in th' same vehicle with 'im?" He hefted the pickaxe in a sure grip and stalked towards the infected man. "If y'all ain't got th' balls t' do what needs t' be done, I do!"

The hammer cocking on Rick's colt had him pausing just in time. "We do not kill the living."

"That's funny, comin' from the man pointin' a gun at my head," the redneck drawled acerbically.

"He's right, man. Put it down," Shane said, putting himself between Daryl and Jim.

Daryl dropped it, berating his aim when it missed Shane's foot by a mere inch. "This your way of keepin' the group safe, Rick?" He flipped him a rude gesture. "Epic fail, asshole!" He went to the campfire where he'd left Sophia's arrows he'd retrieved and strode off angrily into the woods to sit down and clean them.

Carol glared at the former deputy, the fires of hell burning in her eyes. She pointed a finger in the very center of his chest, causing him to flinch. "Don't ever point a gun at him again. He lends his protection and his skill to provide for this group. In spite of what y'all did to Merle, he chose to stay. He's an asset to this outfit, and you treat him like a criminal." She was somewhat mollified to see both Rick and Shane flushing in shame. "You think about that next time you threaten him and believe me when I say this is the only warning you're going to get."

Lori gaped as she watched Carol walk back up the hill to check on Sophia. Rick's mouth was hanging open as he stood next to his wife. "Did she -"

"Just threaten us?" Shane finished for him. "Yeah, and I think she meant it."

Dale shook his head. "She meant it all right," he said, his gaze following the woman in question up the hill.

Shane squinted against the sun. "All I know … She ain't the woman we met two months ago who hardly spoke at all, much less to threaten anyone."

"That Carol was under Ed Peletier's thumb," Jacqui explained, a small smirk at the corner of her mouth. "That woman right there is pure Dixon." She eyed the former deputies with amusement. "Better watch yourselves, honey."

*.*.*

With Dale's permission, Rick set Jim up in the RV with Jacqui to watch over him. It had finally been decided they would travel to the CDC to see if the doctors there were indeed working on a cure. Daryl thought they were all delusional, especially Rick. He was trying so hard to stick to his strong moral code, to be democratic and fair. What they needed was a strong leader, and from what Daryl could see at this point … Rick wasn't it. He needed to step up his game quick fast and in a hurry.

The redneck leaned once more on the pickaxe as he wiped sweat from his brow. He was done with the walkers, the fire crackling brightly as they burned. He and Glenn, along with Hector Morales were now dealing with those of their group who'd perished. Ed was one of the few left. He scowled at Carol as she brought him some of the lunch she'd been passing out to whoever had the stomach for it.

She traded two biscuits stuffed with spam for the pickaxe. "Feeling a bit better now?"

He nodded. It had done him good to retreat to the forest for a while and had helped greatly to clear his head. "When'd y' have time t' make biscuits?" he mumbled, his mouth full. Gawd, the woman could make the fluffiest biscuits he'd ever tasted. His palate was ruined for any food other than hers.

She grinned disarmingly up at him. "Sophia and I had plenty of time while you were being a jackass to everyone. We also have everything loaded in the back of the truck. Only the tent needs to come down."

He snorted at her quip. "Y' did all that an' still had time t' bake?"

"I'm a multitasker at heart, I guess."

Carol's smile slowly faded from her face as she looked down at the bodies of Manny Garcia and Ed. Her ex-husband should've been burned with the walkers, but she knew Daryl wouldn't do it out of regard for Sophia. Ed should be nowhere near a man as fine as Manny, even in death.

"Carol? Y' ok?" Somehow Daryl's voice penetrated the fog which had clouded her thoughts.

"Yeah." She looked down at the hand he held out to her and tightened her grip on the pickaxe. "Should be me … don't you think? To be the one to end him?"

Daryl didn't like the expression on her lovely face. In fact, it worried him. It reminded him of when he'd first met her, and she'd worn her fear and anxiety like a cloak. Would this give her the closure she needed? Because he never wanted to see such pain in her eyes again. "Y' sure?"

She turned those big blue eyes up at him, steely determination lurking in their depths. He couldn't deny her, hoping the act would bring her some peace. He nodded and stepped back to finish his lunch along with the bottle of water she'd brought him.

For a moment, she faltered, and he thought the tool would be too heavy for her. Like everything before, she surprised him. With a strength borne of deep-seated rage, she brought it down on Ed Peletier's temple.

*.*.*

Carol flinched as the heavy blade connected with flesh and bone. How many times had she heard similar sounds within her own body as he'd beat her with his meaty fists? She jerked it free with a squelch and lifted it again.

Broken ribs … the sound of a wire coat hanger tearing through the tender flesh of her back … a shove to send her spiraling down the stairs … his heavy boots taking over when his knuckles were too bloody to continue … the way he'd leered lustfully at Sophia … every time he'd forced himself upon her …

"Jesus, woman!" Daryl cursed, yanking the tool from her hands and tossing it aside.

Tears fell unabashed from her lashes as he pulled her roughly into his arms, a broken sob rising up in her throat. "He's dead, Carol. There ain't nothin' left o' him t' hurt y'." Daryl glanced down at what had once been the man's head. Now it was simply gone, a mess of blood, bone and brain matter, but nothing resembling the man he'd once been.

Carol wrapped her arms about his waist, clinging to him for support. She was free; the monster dead. She cried for the abuse, the pain, the suffering, letting it pour out and wash away with her tears. There wasn't even a remote chance he could slip past her defenses and get to her again. He couldn't hurt her anymore, and from that moment forward she vowed she would start living.

*.*.*

It was well into the afternoon before the last of the mourners trickled down from the hilltop graveyard. Sophia had stood next to her father's grave, her arms crossed over her flat chest, and a mulish expression on her usually sweet features. She'd shed tears for some of the others who'd been buried that day, especially Amy, but she'd had no sadness, no tears, no nothing for the man who'd sired her. No one had had any kind words to say over Ed's body … Not even Dale, who always had a kind word for everyone.

Daryl couldn't stop his lip from curling in disgust as he stared down into the hole, at the bloody sheet covering Ed's mangled corpse. As gruesome as his death had been, it was better than what he'd deserved. There was no amount of suffering on Earth to make up for what that man had put Carol through. Sophia adamantly shook her head when Glenn offered her the shovel to toss the first handful of dirt into the grave. Instead she grasped her mother's hand, her dry crystal blue eyes pleading for her to take her back to camp, to leave with her, to be away from the death and sorrow and loss.

When Carol didn't move, Daryl nudged her with his shoulder. "G'on, woman. Take Soph down t' th' lake t' wash up. Don't know what's waitin' for us at th' CDC. No tellin' when you'll have a chance t' get clean again."

Carol lifted her chin and offered him a faint smile. It was another thing she loved about her dearest friend, his need to always think of her comfort. "When you're done here, join us at the pool. I'll bring fresh clothes and your kit down with us."

Now as he sat behind the wheel of his truck, he was glad he'd heeded her advice and made the effort to clean himself up. It was nice not to have to travel with his skin itching from the dirt and sweat he'd been covered in.

Sophia sat next to him, Carol on her other side. Her bow and quiver rested between her legs. She'd balked when Daryl had offered to put them behind the seat with his crossbow. Merle had warned her to always have her weapon near to hand, and she took his words to heart. She missed Merle terribly, as much as if not more than Daryl himself did. Rick had left a message taped to the door of the abandoned challenger for his friend – the man who had saved him - to join them at the CDC. Sophia had added her own message for Merle should he come back looking for them.

He gnawed distractedly on his thumb, the digit already a mangled mess of chewed skin, the nail having been bitten down to the quick. The closer they came to Atlanta, the more nervous he became. What if he couldn't keep his girls safe? He hadn't been there for Merle, and now his brother was missing. He would probably blame himself until the eldest Dixon was found. Daryl had always had a bad habit of blaming himself for shit that wasn't his fault.

They were on the very outskirts of Atlanta, suburbs surrounding the highway they traveled, when Dale pulled the RV to a screeching halt. Rick swerved the Cherokee to the right to avoid a rear end collision. Daryl pulled to a stop behind him and turned to Carol, commanding her to remain in the truck. "And that goes for you too, missy," he growled at Sophia. He didn't miss the roll of her eyes, but she stayed put.

Dale was gesticulating wildly at Rick by the time Daryl reached them, crossbow resting in his hand at the ready. "Th' fuck's goin' on? Why we stopped?"

Dale turned fearful dark eyes on the hunter. T-Dog and Shane came to stand with them, equally curious as to the unexpected stop. "Jim's dead," Dale said, wringing his worn white hat in his trembling hands. "We need to get him out of the Winnebago before he turns."

Daryl gaped at him in horror. "Y' didn't put 'im down? The fuck's wrong with you people?" he growled in disgust as he stormed up the steps into the vehicle. Jacqui stood by the door into the single bedroom, weeping softly as she watched Jim for signs of movement. The poor woman looked as if she were about to break.

He looked over at her and Andrea, schooling his face into a blank mask. "Out. All o' ya." Glenn obeyed, more than familiar with Daryl's temper. He didn't want to make it worse, nor was he prepared to take over the task Daryl had appointed for himself.

The archer slipped into the room and checked the man's pulse, first at his wrist, then at his neck. He wasn't about to lay an ear to his chest to listen. All he needed was for Jim's corpse to reanimate and take a bite out of him. He sighed and drew the knife from his belt. "Sorry, man," he said before driving the blade into his temple. At least he'd be spared from becoming one of the mindless wandering dead.

It didn't make Daryl feel any better to know that, however. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. If Rick would have let him put Jim down at camp, the man wouldn't have had to suffer through the fever and a long painful death. It would've been a mercy killing, not the cold-blooded murder Rick and Shane had made it out to be.

He made his way back outside and handed Shane the shovel he'd grabbed on the way out. "I told y' this shit was useless. He was never gonna make it an' he had t' suffer needlessly," he snarled, backing Rick against the side of the RV. He pointed a finger in their leader's face. "What woulda happened if he'd turned an' attacked one o' th' women before Dale coulda got th' RV stopped, Rick?" he sneered. "That shit woulda been on you."

Rick paled and watched him take the pick from the back of the truck and go off to help Shane dig a grave. Jacqui and Andrea cast him furtive looks as they went back inside to prepare the body for burial. He was going to have to get his act together if he was going to lead the group. It was his job to keep them alive and he was doing a less than stellar job. The CDC held the answers - he was sure of it - he just needed to get them there.