Part VIII

The Last Man Standing

"We spent the night in the trunk," Daryl stood next to the car. "Thunder and lightnin' and rain, and a big ol' herd of walkers passin' by."

They continued on.

"I don't think I spoke two words to her the first couple days. I was so pissed off and depressed 'bout losing our home and everyone we knew, and Rick sendin' you away, I couldn't even process it all. I was such a jackass to 'er."

"The whole time I was thinkin' how of all the folks at the prison, I got stuck with the big ball of marshmallow fluff. I mean, I always liked her all right, but we didn't seem to have much in common. And she was all 'gotta be positive' and 'keep hope alive.' Don't be shocked, but I ain't a unicorns and rainbows kinda guy."

"You don't say," Carol replied dryly.

"Shut up. Anyway, give her credit. She called me on my crap. Shocked the hell outta me. And you know what else? I started talkin' to her. Got to know her better. Turns out, she was strong after all. I just never noticed before."

"Stereotypes and all, right?"

"Mm hmm. So she decides she wants a drink. She ain't never had one, you know, 'cause her daddy was an alcoholic. She was hellbent on findin' some liquor. We went to the Country Club, but that place was crawling with walkers. Looked like it musta been used as a shelter or a camp for a time. Blankets and bedrolls everywhere, tents and whatnot. Either had a mass murder or a mass suicide, there's four or five bodies hanging from the rafters. Real nice place. And only one freakin' bottle of booze left—goddamn peach schnapps."

"I was so irritated by her still. Here we are, our lives destroyed, knee deep in shit, and she wants to experiment with alcohol, like she's some spoiled rich girl whose parents are outta town for the weekend. What the fuck? So she's tryin' to get her drink, and I'm all pissed off, throwin' darts, breakin' shit, doin' whatever I can to be obnoxious, and I look over, and she's just staring at the bottle of schnapps and starts cryin'. That's when I figured out that it wasn't really about the booze. "

"I was such an idiot. It took me that long to realize that she's just seen her daddy's throat get slit, she don't know what happened to her sister and she's stuck with some moody jackass who's not even tryin' to understand where she's comin' from. And she was only seventeen. She's just a kid."

"I couldn't totally snap myself out of it, I was in a bad way, myself, but I figured no way was I gonna let her first drink be peach schnapps. So I took her to this little house that me and Michonne found once where there was a stash of moonshine."

Carol found herself wishing she'd been there. Moonshine. Excellent.

"Daryl Dixon on moonshine. I think I'd like to see that."

"No," he said tersely. "You wouldn't. Like I told Beth-I'm a dick when I drink."

As the sun set over the horizon, they reached the charred remains of the home that had once reminded Daryl too much of his childhood one. They walked around porch area.

"This house was amazing, and not in a good way. It was so much like the one I grew up in. It brought back so much crap for me… sure didn't help my attitude with Beth. A few belts of that moonshine, and I went from asshole to super ultra mega asshole. But she saw through it. And she called me on it."

"I was taking out my frustration on a walker that happened by. She told me to stop actin' like I didn't give a crap 'bout nothin', like nothin' we been through mattered and none of the people we lost meant anything to me."

"She said she knew I thought she was less because she wasn't tough like you or Michonne or Maggie, but she still made it. And I didn't have the right to treat her like crap just because I was afraid."

"I just went apeshit like 'don't you get it?! Everybody we know is dead! Even if they ain't, we ain't never gonna see them again.'"

"She was all 'you don't know that. There's still good things and good people in the world.'"

He drew in a deep breath and let it out.

"I never got the chance to tell her she was right."

"From what she told me in the hospital, I'd say she knew."

"Well, she got me to fess up to what was really buggin' me. That I gave up searching for the Governor, that I didn't take the shot, all those things I coulda done different…and you know what she did? I just told her it's partly my fault that her daddy's dead, not to mention everyone else, and what does she do? She hugs me."

Carol smiled. "I told you. You're just gonna have to learn to live with the love."

"Maggie don't blame me neither," he said. "Not for Hershel. Not for Beth. Not even for Glenn."

"And what does that tell you?" She prodded him toward what she hoped would be an epiphany.

"These people are too damn forgiving?"

She poked a finger into his chest. "Or, maybe, just maybe, you're way too hard on yourself."

He let out an intelligible grunt and sat down.

"Anyway, after, we sat here and talked a bit. About lots a stuff, really. She told me I was cut out for this kind of life. I said no, I'm just used to places like this. To things bein' ugly."

He seemed to be struggling a bit, Carol noticed. As though he was having to force the words out of his throat.

You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon. Damn, how could her words have been so prophetic?

"Lookin' back, it was like she knew. She said 'I'm gonna be gone someday. But not you. You gonna be the last man standin'. I don't want to be the last man standin.'"

Daryl couldn't imagine a more wretched existence than being completely and utterly alone. Sure, he liked his solitude well enough, but he also liked knowing that he could be around others when he chose to. He had learned he liked feeling like part of a family.

"So what made you guys set the fire?" Carol asked.

"She told me that I have to stay who I am, not who I was before. This place made me feel like who I was before. She said 'you have to put it away or it'll kill you.'. Then she came up with the idea of burning the mother to the ground. And it was a damn fine idea. Burnin' away the past so that there can be a future."

"Sounds familiar."

"Hmm."

( )

"A funeral home?" Carol asked quizzically. What are you grousing about? You've been living in a cemetery. "I guess it's as good a place as any."

Daryl nodded. They cleared the building and relaxed a bit. "We were pretty surprised. There was all kinds of supplies—fresh supplies. Made us think someone was livin' here. We didn't know if they was gonna come back or not."

Carol ran her hand along the casket's satin lining.

"Be real surprised how comfy that is."

Carol froze. "Seriously?" She did not want to picture Daryl in a coffin.

"Yep. Made a pretty good bed."

They went into the kitchenette.

"It was good here," Daryl said softly. "I started thinkin' maybe we could stay here a while. If the others came back, we'd work somethin' out with 'em."

Carol briefly felt a rush of jealousy. Then she remembered that she and Tyreese had had that same conversation, and she understood.

"What happened?"

"There was a dog. It came by earlier, but it had run off. I heard barking, so I went to the door. Didn't even look before I opened it. Damnit, musta been thirty walkers come through the door." He shook his head at his foolishness. What kind of idiot just throws open a door in the apocalypse without looking first?

"I yelled at Beth to go out the back, I'd meet her there. She didn't want to leave me with all them walkers. I don't know how I got past 'em all, but I did. And when I ran out the back, there was Beth's pack on the ground and that car with the white cross speedin' away. I ran after it, but, you know…"

"Then you were alone."

Carol poured the wine.

"Then I was all alone again." He nodded grimly. "Again, I totally screwed up at protectin' somebody. I didn't know who they were, or what they wanted with 'er, I just knew I failed her."

"To Beth."

…TBC