Watching Floating right now and trying to write while it loads a little more so...I hope I'm not too distracted!
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Maybe accepting the curveball life had thrown her had been the right thing, because Carol woke up the next morning, day five of her new existence, just a bit more easily and felt like she may actually be able to make it through the day. She reached out and pulled Sophia's sleeping form closer to her and sighed. Sophia moaned sleepily, but she opened her eyes and smiled slightly.
"Mom," she said quietly, "Can we go target practicing today?"
"Of course we can, Sophia," Carol replied, "I just have to talk to Rick about moving into the house first."
"I don't want to move into the house," Sophia whispered, "We're fine here, aren't we?"
"No, honey," Carol said, trying not to get choked up over the explanation. "I don't feel like I can protect us by myself. The only reason I felt safe here before is...because of Daryl."
Sophia rolled over to face Carol, her face was scrunched slightly, but she looked serious as could be.
"Mom...I feel safe with you," she said, "Dad use to say you're "one tough bitch"."
Carol snorted with laughter.
"Sophia! Watch your mouth!" she giggled. If Sophia had learned anything from Daryl, it seemed like she was picking up on his bad habits.
"Well that IS what he said!" Sophia defended herself.
"Well that's not language I want you using," Carol said firmly.
They lay there in silence for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts. Carol wondered what was going through her daughter's mind, was it as jumbled, confused and as painful as hers? All that crossed Carol's mind the majority of the time was Daryl. She could still see his cocky grin in her mind's eye, feel the rough warmth of his calloused hands on her skin, taste the salt of his skin and the bittersweet taste of his mouth, hear his soft, mellow voice as he sang her softly to sleep all that time ago.
Carol suddenly stood, forcing the tears that were threatening to fall back. She took a deep steadying breath and began getting dressed and ready for the day. The last piece of clothing she put on was the winged jacket.
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"Rick?" Carol didn't know why it was so hard for her to do this, it almost felt like a betrayal to Daryl's memory, but she was letting go of her pride and she was going to do what was best for her daughter now and the best thing for her now would be to move into the house.
"Yeah, Carol? What can I do for ya?" Rick asked, kindly.
"I...I would like to move into the house if there's room for Sophia and I," Carol replied quietly, "If there's not room for us both, I would very much appreciate it if you could manage room for Sophia at least."
Rick smiled softly, a smile tinged with pity.
"Carol, of course we'll make room," he said, putting a hand on Carol's shoulder as he made intense eye contact, "You are an important part of this group, don't forget that, ok?"
Carol nodded, but said no more. She turned away and went to find Sophia to go practice.
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Thunk! The satisfying sound of an arrow embedding deep in the target made Carol's heart swell, and the fact that her daughter had shot a bull's eye didn't hurt either.
"Sophia, that's great!" she said happily, side hugging her daughter as they looked at the target. Carol's arrow had hit within the second ring from the bull's eye.
"You did good too, mom," Sophia said happily, "Those walkers better stay clear of us, right?!"
"Right!" Carol laughed as she went to pull out the arrows. She yanked them out of the haybale and sighed, her shoulders dropping for a moment before she recomposed herself. This was how she went on every day, she would melt down for a split second then force herself to move forward despite the crippling fear and pain...because that's what she had to do for Sophia. When she felt like breaking, she imagined her daughter's life without her and that image gave her strength beyond what she thought she was capable of.
They target practiced all afternoon until the sun was getting low in the sky and Carol finally made the decision that it was time to go pack up their camp to move inside. The mood quickly dampened because Sophia was still upset about having to move in, but Carol wasn't going to let it change her mind, Sophia needed to be around people...and so did she.
So they walked back slowly and in silence, each in their own mind. When they reached their campsite, Sophia immediately began to throw her things, unorganized, into her bag while Carol neatly folded her own clothes to put in her box she'd brought out to move things in. She placed her clothes on the bottom and her few possessions on top of those...then came the hard part, sifting through Daryl's things.
"I'm done," Sophia mumbled, holding up her bag for Carol to see, "What do I do with it?"
"Take it to the house," Carol replied quietly, her fingers running lightly over the olive green cargo pants she was so fond of...or maybe it had just been the body beneath them. "Lori will show you where we're suppose to go."
Sophia nodded, her face was sad as she watched her mother for a moment, and then she slipped out of the tent softly and without another word.
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This was one of the hardest things Carol had ever done in her life, sifting through this stuff. Every item she picked up and packed in the box made her heart tighten and tears flow even more. She started with his clothes, each one causing his strong, woodsy, manly scent to wash over her which caused memories to rise unbidden to her mind. She remembered removing these clothes from him in the heat of passion, or just because he was too stiff and sore from whatever work he'd done that day, on those nights she'd worked the kinks out of his muscles and she could still feel the strength of his muscles under her fingers. She ran a finger over one of the many holes she's patched up for him, he had always come back from the woods with fresh holes or tears in his pants or shirt and she smiled sadly as she remembered how she'd get onto him for it, claiming he caused her more unnecessary work...but she would give anything to have that work back if it meant seeing the smile he gave her every time she complained.
She gently laid the last article of clothing, the olive cargo pants, into the box and picked up his small pouch of beeswax, arrowheads, whetstone and bowstrings. She tucked it in between the clothes and the side of the box then took down the hanging mesh from the tent roof full of random articles like flint rocks, spare motorcycle and truck keys, a small switchblade knife, random cloth pieces, gun oil and cleaning patches. All the things that were so Daryl...things that he treasured and valued.
She stood slowly and went out to where the motorcycle was setting and began digging in the saddlebags. She took out his wallet, the keys, the jerky packets stuffed in them, the bottles of water, the bullets and all the odd pieces of things that Carol didn't recognize but assumed were valuable. She tucked all these objects in a smaller bag and made her way back inside, placing it in the box on top of the clothes.
The last thing she picked up was the rifle he'd found in town, the one she'd teased him with...which only seemed like days ago. She smiled sadly as she remembered the look on his face and how amazing it made her feel to have such power, such...appeal. He had made her feel like a real woman, a woman worth something. She laid the gun down next to the box and stared at the stack with tears in her eyes and wondered why life was so cruel to her to have given her something so wonderful, only to rip it away like it was nothing.
The tent flap opened and she wiped her tears away quickly, she didn't want Sophia to see her like this again, she had to be strong! She squared her shoulders and sat up straight, blinking to get rid of the tears still brimming her eyes.
"Sophia, can you grab the gun and I'll get the box?" she asked quietly, she stood and then bent over to grip the side of the box.
"You pawnin' off my stuff or somethin'? That's pretty cold..."
Carol felt her entire body go numb, her throat constricted tighter than she thought possible and her heart began to thump wildly. This was it...she was going insane...it was bound to happen. She released her hold on the box and straightened up as slowly as humanly possible, not wanting to turn around but not able to stop herself. She turned her body, but her eyes remained averted...they were the last to turn and focus.
"Not...possible..."she whispered at the figure in front of her.
"Doesn't seem like it, does it?"
And the last thing Carol remembered was that cheeky smile before her knees gave out and her world went black.
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I have nothing to say...well, I guess I can say Floating was good, weird, but good. So...yeah, reviews rock my face off!