Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you. ~ Carl Sandberg
Note:This little ficlet contains spoilers for TBOC. Don't read if you aren't aware of said spoilers because you will definitely be in the know afterward. A big swath of this is my own little fix it because what airs is fubar to me. I haven't seen any of the episodes for DD or TBOC. I don't care to. I just know a few spoilers and have seen a still and the reunion. If you don't like this odd little thing...sorry. If you do...a review would be nice.
Isabelle
He didn't know why. He barely knew the why of anything these days. Maybe that was the catalyst…the uncertainty. He wasn't used to being uncertain anymore. He knew who he was and where he was supposed to be. All that made up the warp and woof of him had been set long ago. Rearranged and reinterpreted, but still him at the core. This man though. Daryl didn't recognize him. He couldn't reconcile this version to all the ones that had come before.
It wasn't supposed to be like this, here on this beach looking into eyes that even after two months were still those of a stranger. Her methods, her motives, her motivations. He still didn't know her why. Keeping Laurent safe was the golden rule. Keeping herself and Daryl alive and functional was secondary, to be tossed away in a second if it bought Laurent a little more time. She was afraid. She was lonely. She was unsure if any of her decisions would make the slightest bit of difference in the end.
Not that it mattered. The boy would die someday. Nothing and no one could stop that, but it didn't make sense to dwell on a certainty. The only goal was to hold it off for as long as possible so that the boy could fulfill his destiny. Whatever the fuck that meant.
Daryl was no stranger to a chosen one. Fuck, he'd seen Star Wars. He didn't believe it for a minute and, even if it was true, then the chosen one always got the shaft. Each and every time, the one meant to bring hope never made it to the credit roll. He didn't want that for Laurent. He was only a kid, not some Superman who would bear the weight of the world on his shoulders. But Laurent wasn't his problem.
He could smell her fear, metallic and sour, as he met her silently pleading gaze. They'd already talked about her and the boy coming with him back to America. It was a pretty little fairytale, spoken aloud to drown out the question of how to protect the boy from those chasing after him. Whether they sought a savior or to purge a devil was the sixty four million dollar question. The boy was still just a boy and Isabelle was adamant that Daryl was the only one who could protect him.
Her tears were a gut punch. He knew that fear like the back of his hand. Sophia. Judith. RJ. Henry. Lydia. Those were just a fewof the names on his list. He knew the load she carried and also that she was looking to him to help her shoulder it. That honor that he'd been called out on once upon a time twisted his gut into knots. Honor and obligation…the two sides of his coin bonded by loyalty. And whether he liked it or not, he did care about them. The boy deserved a chance. He deserved a life.
She looked so damned small, standing in the pale orange sunset light, looking like one more blow would be the last. Before he knew what he was about, he bent and brushed her lips gently with his. It could have been a cheek or a forehead or the back of a hand. Her palm settled on the back of his neck while his found the curve of her shoulder. Just a fleeting exchange of breath and pressure before they fell back and eyed the other off. He knew her fear, but all he could offer was the reassurance that, for now, she wasn't alone. He would give them what help he could but somehow, some way, he had to find a way back to where he belonged.
Carol
Their walk through the tunnel seemed endless and the gas mask made an already torturous situation almost unbearable. He stalked ahead of her, the crossbow riding high on one broad shoulder. How many times had she trailed along behind him since the world fell apart? How many tears had she cried, wondering where he was and if he was tired or hungry or hurt? How many dreams of a sun drenched kitchen and breakfast and a table set for six had woken her up shivering and shaking and fighting back tears? He was all that was left of her family and the only bulwark against the demons she'd pushed into the recesses of her mind.
Carol stumbled as he came to an abrupt halt. Even through the mask, she could see the way his eyes widened and he shook his head violently , denying whatever it was that blocked their path. Something only he could see. His hand came up, fingers curling as he held it out. Clearly, he'd missed the mark because his chin dropped to his chest and tears dampened the lenses.
"Daryl?" Her palm hovered, unsure if he would welcome her touch. "What is it? What did you see?"
He lowered the mask to wipe his eyes on his sleeve before putting it back in place. "We need to put some miles behind us before dark. They'll be looking for the boy."
"Ash will keep him safe and they aren't going to come in here after us. What did you see? Tell me."
"I saw her. Isabelle." He shoved the mask off roughly and flung it to the floor, anger settling like a shroud on his features. "Told me to bet on hope and then disappeared like a fucking fairy. Fireflies." He scoffed again and kicked the mask further along the tunnel. "Hope. Ain't none of that left. Not anymore. It's just a long line of clusterfucks, one right after the other. That's just how it is."
Carol peeled off her own mask and tucked it into her bag before edging closer. She waited until his circular pacing brought him within reach and put a hand to stay him. "I thought that way for a long time. Every time we lost somebody. Every time we had to pick up the pieces and go when we lost another home. Every time a new threat reared its head. How could we hope for a future when everything seems so damned temporary?" Her fingers stroked his forearm and then curled around his wrist, holding lightly but firmly. He wouldn't be getting away anytime soon. "I was terrified of hoping for so long, Daryl, too long. I just couldn't see it."
"But now you can?"
Her eyes met his and she smiled, tangling his hand in hers. "Hope is waking up in a comfortable bed. And a sunlit kitchen with a table set for breakfast. And money for jam. And New Mexico." She took a tiny step closer, swallowing the knot in her throat at his shocked expression. None of that meant anything to him except the place and the conversation they'd had not long before he left. "Hope is a thing with feathers," she quoted, "and I flew across an ocean to find you."
Something flared in his gaze and then settled as he looked at her and then down at their clasped hands. "I didn't never stop trying to get home to you."
"I know that," she returned softly.
"Things just kept going wrong and I couldn't leave them to fend for themselves. Not her and the boy. I wanted to come home but they needed help. I had to help." He rubbed his jaw wearily. "She said I was the only one that could keep him safe."
"You did," Carol whispered. "He's going home with Ash. They can't get to him now and that's because of you."
"And you," he insisted. "You done as much for him as I did."
"We did our best. That's all we can do. But I'm sorrythat she died. I know you cared for her, loved her."
His expression flickered from disbelief to denial to questioning. Once more, he studied their clasped hands. "I did care. I don't know. She was afraid. Worried for the kid. Lost. So was I."
"You don't have to explain. I understand and I'm sorry that you lost her."
Again, a gamut of expressions ran across his face, as if he was trying each one on for size. "It all comes back to hope, don't it? That's what keeps us going in spite of this shitheap world." He tipped his head back and stared at the tunnel roof, an oddly sad smile tugging his lips up at the edges. "Hope is blonde. I see that now"
His eyes dropped back to her face and that smile softened and grew. "But love…" He reeled her in until his fingers rested on the back of her neck and his breath eddied across her cheek,staring into her eyes like it was the first time he'd ever seen her. "Love is blue. Always has been and always will be. I meant what I said back in the Commonwealth. I did then and I still do."
Carol teared up and she eased closer until they were only a breath apart. For the first time since Maine, since Alpha, since her baby walked out of that damned barn, she felt as light as a feather, like she was where she was meant to be. "I still do too," she whispered.
When he bent to kiss her, she met him halfway.