I don't know if this chapter needs a warning, but it is a little more graphic than usual. Compared to the show, this is nothing, I guess. I don't know. I just felt like I should warn you all before reading. It's probably not even that bad.
Anyways, I hope you all enjoy. I am very proud of this chapter for some reason.
Don't hate me!
Chapter Twenty-Eight
"It really is a shame, you know?"
Carol's mind was fuzzy. If it weren't for the familiar smell of her bed sheets, she wouldn't have known where she was. The room was dark. The curtains were drawn and the door closed, even though it was almost eight in the morning, no sunlight peeked through the window. And had that been a voice she heard?
"Hello?" She called. "Daryl?" He would have been the only one in the room, but the spot beside her was empty and the sheets cool to touch, like it had been a long while since he'd been lying there. She hadn't even heard him get up.
"To think, you were finally happy, Carol."
That voice. It sounded so familiar, but for the life of her, she couldn't place it. Or...she didn't want to.
"Who's there?" She tried, again, hoping that this time someone would answer with a name and not a sentence that didn't make any sense to Carol. Who was this man and why was she hearing his voice in her room? And why wasn't she freaking out that there was a strange man in her bedroom? Everything felt fuzzy and she felt sluggish.
"Mrs. Daryl Dixon. Really? That name sounds better than Mrs. Edward Peletier? Really, Carol honey, I thought you had higher standards than that. I mean, he works as a mechanic, his brother is in jail. He hunts for his dinner. If that's not backwoods, then I don't know what is, honestly."
Carol gasped. Everything became impossible clear and her limbs responded faster than they had before. No. She fumbled with the lamp beside her bed and screamed when she saw what the light finally illuminated.
Ed Peletier.
He was sitting at the edge of her bed, on Daryl's side, staring down at her with a malicious smile. One hand was pressed against the sheets as he leaned forward and Carol glimpsed a splash of red on his skin.
This couldn't be happening.
She screamed, again, and scrambled from the bed. Why hadn't Daryl heard her scream and come running? It wasn't time for him to go to work, yet.
Something twisted viciously in her gut. Bile rushed up her throat and she vomited on the floor by her feet.
This couldn't be happening.
"Oh, honey," he sneered. "Are you sick? Come here. Let me take care of you. In sickness and health, right?" He stood from the bed and started to circle around the bed. Carol pressed herself against the wall and inched as far as she could from him.
"I'm not married to you!"
"Oh. Well, you're not married to anyone."
Ed paused at the end of the bed and looked at her in amusement. He was enjoying this, just as he enjoyed every time he had hit or belittled her during their marriage.
"How did you get in here?" Carol hated how her voice trembled.
"Your husband let me in. Daryl, is it? You see, he actually likes me. Did you know he fixed the Charger? It's good as new, too. Thanks to your husband." Ed chuckled, an evil sound that Carol had always hated hearing.
"I-I thought you said I wasn't married, anymore." Just keep him talking, she thought. Maybe, then, I'll be able to escape. But where would she go? If he had found her here, then she knew he could find her, anywhere.
"Technicalities." Ed waved his right hand while the other one took out a white rag from his pocket. The cloth was stained with multiple brown spots and when he wiped his hands, there was red smeared across it, as well.
Carol knew deep down what was on that rag, but she didn't want to admit and didn't want to think about where...or who, it had come from.
"Where is my husband, now?" If she could distract him long enough, she could race across the bed and if he caught up to her, maybe she could struggle just long enough to open the door and get out of there.
Or she could go to her dresser and grab her gun. Surely, he wouldn't approach her, then, if she had a gun pointed at his head. Hopefully he would stop or she would be forced to use it. She would if she had to.
"You see, this morning when he was in your bed and answered the door, Daryl was your husband. Now, the only place he'll be resting is six feet under."
No.
"What did you do to him?" Keep him talking, Carol.
"Do you remember that pocket knife with my name etched in it? Here, it is." He took out the pocket and flipped it open to show off a viscious looking blade. "I apologize. I haven't had the time to clean it, yet." The blade was covered in blood and so was the handle. It even began to ooze down onto his hand.
"Daryl..." She was going to be sick, again. But there was nothing left to throw up.
"The last time I saw him was when I was stepping over his slowly dying body." Ed began to use the rag on his knife. "I'm pretty sure the last thing he said was 'Carol'. How sweet."
The corner of the night table was biting into her thigh, but she ignored the pain. Nothing could out do the pain in her heart. Daryl...
"Why?" She breathed. Tears were running down her cheeks. She wanted to die. Especially if what Ed was saying was true.
"Why, what, Carol dear? Why did I kill your husband? You see. That was your fault. If only you hadn't run and hid from me. If only you had told Daryl dearest about me, about how I was looking for you." The knife was placed back into his pocket and he resumed his approach. Carol had nowhere to go.
Two hands landed hard on her shoulders and Carol refused to look up. Refused to look the evil man in the eye. Because that was what he was. An evil man. Carol was convinced that he was the devil in disguise.
"Now, come," he said. "Come back with me. No more hiding...or your friend Michonne may be the next one I visit. I hear she has a baby, now. A little boy."
Carol gasped.
"You wouldn't want another person's death on your conscience, would you?"
She couldn't take it, anymore. She kneed him in the crouch and ran for the door. The door opened easily and she was in the hallway. Running. But she came to a stop when a figure lying in the middle of the kitchen caught her eye.
Daryl...
A bright red stain was blossoming from underneath him and he was turned away from her. Carol came to a skidding stop next to him and went to her knees, not caring that the blood -his blood- was seeping through the cotton of her pajamas.
"Daryl!" She cried as she rolled him to his back and gasped when she saw all of the blood soaking his shirt. Was...Was there any left in him? Was he even still alive? There was just so much blood...
"Daryl. Please," she pleaded and cupped his cheek. If it weren't for the blood, she would have thought he was sleeping. He looked so peaceful.
No...
"Carol..." His voice was hoarse and so soft she had to lean forward to hear.
Tears sprung to her eyes. "I'm here, Daryl." She took his hand and propped it up to her mouth to kiss his knuckles.
Slowly, his eyes opened. "Why didn't you tell me, Carol?" His breaths were labored, his face was pale and the life in his eyes was starting to dim.
"I...didn't want you to get hurt."
Daryl laughed a humorless laugh. "Look at me now, Carol. I'm dyin'..."
"No! No, you're not. I'm going to get an ambulance and you'll be just fine." She stood and raced for the phone, but it wasn't in its cradle and her cell phone was back in the room. Back with Ed.
"You wouldn't be looking for these, would you?"
Ed stood in the doorway, phone in his hand. "I'm afraid it's too late." He looked down at Daryl. "Oh, look. He's gasping for breath. It's very entertaining to watch."
"Daryl!" Carol practically screamed and went to him once more. He was gasping for air and she didn't know what to do. There was nothing she could do.
"Carol...why...?"
"Daryl. Stay with me! Please, don't. "Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me with him. Please.
"Carol...love..."
Daryl's eyes fluttered shut, his breathing stopped and his hand went limp in hers.
He was dead.
"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry," Ed said from behind Carol, who was slumped over Daryl's lifeless body. "But look at the bright side. Now, you can be with me."
Carol woke up screaming and shaking uncontrollably.
The clock beside her read 7:15, but the spot beside her was empty. The room was dimly lit from the sun and Carol saw that she was alone in the room. No Ed. No Daryl. She threw off the blanket and stood on shaky legs. It wasn't time for Daryl to leave for work, yet. Maybe he was in the kitchen making breakfast for the two of them.
An image of Daryl's lifeless body lying on the kitchen floor flashed in her mind and before Carol could stop it, she vomited on the floor.
Just as she had in the wretched nightmare.
Carol never had a nightmare quite like that, except for the one she had when Daryl had spent the night the first time. This one had felt so real, though. She had felt Ed's breath on her face, saw the life flicker from Daryl's eyes and had felt the blood seeping into her knees. Those images and senses would be forever burned into her mind, and also what Daryl said with his dying breaths.
"Why didn't you tell me, Carol?"
She could have made all the excuses in the world, but nothing had changed the fact that if Daryl had known about Ed, then he wouldn't have died. He wouldn't have even let him in the house without shooting a bolt at him.
She knew what she had to do know. No more keeping this from Daryl any longer. He deserved to know. He needed to know. She had been an idiot for keeping it from him, but she hadn't wanted him to get involved. She hadn't wanted him to get hurt.
"Look at me now. I'm dyin'..."
After cleaning up the mess in the bedroom, Carol walked into the kitchen to see that there was no Daryl in sight. He wasn't in the living room, either. Panic settled in Carol's chest. He should have been there. Where was he? Maybe she could call him, but when she reached for the phone it wasn't in its cradle.
Just like in her dream...
She jumped around, half expecting Ed to show up in the doorway of the kitchen with the phone in his hand. But he didn't. Thank God.
But where was Daryl?
Walking around the counter, a piece of paper caught her eye. A note! Picking up, she sighed in relief when she saw that it was from Daryl.
Went into work early. Won't be home for supper. Daryl.
The note was short and straight to the point. Why hadn't he woken her up to tell her? That would have been something he would have done. Right? And Daryl never left the house without saying he loved her.
Maybe she could visit him and bring him lunch. They would be able to talk, then, and the yard behind the garage would give them enough privacy. No one would be able to interrupt them back there, and that was exactly what Carol needed. No interruptions. Not when she had finally received the push to tell him all about Ed.
Going back to her room, she picked up her cell phone, since she had no idea where the house phone had gone off to, and dialed Daryl's number. She hoped that he would be able to hear it ringing in the garage.
Daryl answered on the fourth ring. "Hey," he said.
"Hey, Daryl. I'm glad you heard your phone."
"Was takin' care of a customer, so I was up front."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I can call back later." She bit her lip and sat on the bed, wondering why she was all of a sudden feeling very nervous. This was Daryl she was talking to. He had always been easy to talk with.
"Naw, it's all right. They left."
"Who was it?" Ed's words about meeting Daryl at the garage haunted her.
"Some old lady. Didn't get her name."
"Oh. Um. Well, I, uh, didn't hear you get up this morning. I missed waking up to you."
"Charlie wanted me to come in an hour early and I didn't want to wake you up. I left you a note."
"Oh, I saw it." There was something a little off with Daryl's tone, but she told herself not to dwell on it. She had called him for a reason. "Did you pack yourself a lunch? Because if you didn't, I can come by and bring you one. We could eat it in the back like last time. That was really nice."
"I packed myself a sandwich so you don't need to do that."
"Oh. All right, then." The way Daryl had said the words stung.
"Well, I have to go. Got another customer to take care of."
"Okay. I'll see you when you get home," she said.
"Which won't be until later tonight," he reminded.
"I know. I'll see you later, Daryl. I love you."
"All right. Bye, Carol."
Carol had grown spoiled. At every chance he could get, Daryl would reassure her that he loved her. Of course he wasn't going to do it all the time, now that they were married and she was sure of his feelings. But it still hurt. She had really needed to hear those words, right now. Especially after having watched him die in her dream.
Daryl felt like complete shit lying to Carol. Charlie had called him into an hour earlier for work, but he was also letting Daryl leave an hour earlier than normal. Instead of heading straight home, he had someone to visit.
Carol had begun to act weird, again, just as she had when they first met. This time, however, there should have been no hesitation to talk with him, anymore. He was her husband. They were supposed to trust one another. But last night, someone had texted her and made her gasp like that. She had been frightened and she should have told him right away what was wrong, but instead she had insisted that it was nothing. That she had only been checking the time.
Daryl wasn't stupid.
He knew Carol and he knew when she was hiding something.
At five, Daryl cleaned up his workstation, said bye to Charlie and hopped into his truck. He knew he smelled like the garage and had oil stains on his hands, but he knew he didn't need to clean up for where he was going.
Driving into the mostly empty parking lot of the prison, Daryl saw that most of the inmates most have been inside. It was probably suppertime. Hopefully Merle would want to see him, especially since they hadn't parted on good terms the last time he had visited, only two days ago.
"You're just in luck," said the woman behind the counter when he walked in and asked to the see his brother. "It looks like he just finished his meal. I call down to see if he'll want to see you."
"All right. Thanks." Daryl took a seat and began flipping through one of the severely outdated magazines scattered on the tables around the room. The one he was looking at now was from two years ago.
"Mr. Dixon?" The woman had hung up the phone and was now smiling at him. "Merle will see you."
Ten minutes later, they were in the same meeting room as before. Merle was even shackled to the same table. When he saw his younger brother come in, he smirked.
"To what do I owe this visit, baby brother? And where's that pretty wife of yours? Thought you two were attached to the hip."
"Shut up, Merle," Daryl growled. He was not in the mood for him, today.
"Ah. Still a little sore, then." Merle smirked. "Or is this somethin' different? Is there trouble brewin' in your paradise, baby brother?" He leaned his elbows on the table.
Daryl sighed and looked down, not wanting to see the smug look Merle would be sure to give once he said what he had come to say. "You were right, Merle." He hated himself for admitting it, especially with how he had acted the last time he was there. "She's hidin' somethin'."
Thanks for reading!