So baby be mine when the sun sets
Til the day that it doesn't come up yea
Run away til our lungs give up
I'll breathe your air til I turn to the dust
Honey I know
Wherever you Go
I'd give up half of forever
Offer me up I'm yours
All of my love I'm sure
I'd give up half of forever
Just to be with you
"Half of Forever" - Henrik
NOTES: I don't know why but I could literally hear this song playing in my head for most of this chapter. The music feels like it could've actually been used in the original show. If you've never heard it, go find it and give it a listen, it's definitely the vibe for this one. Thanks for reading! Hope you're enjoying the ride so far. Your comments are my sustenance.
Chapter 26: Familiar Grounds
The soft light of dawn filtered through the cracked windows, bathing the room in muted shades of gray and gold. The fire in the hearth had long since died out, leaving only the faint scent of smoke and ash lingering in the air. The quiet hum of the apartment began to stir with the subtle sounds of movement—boots scuffing against the wooden floor, the clink of metal as weapons were checked and secured, and the faint rustle of blankets being folded and tucked away.
Daryl stood by the door, his crossbow slung over his shoulder and his gaze sharp as he scanned the room. His brow furrowed as his eyes landed on Carol, who was meticulously packing the last of their supplies into a sturdy duffel bag. Codron was at the table, going over the map one final time, his finger tracing the route south toward the Abbey.
"Truck's ready," Daryl muttered, his voice low but steady. He adjusted the strap of his crossbow as his eyes flicked toward the the bedroom. He'd just come up from a final check on the truck, ensuring everything was secure—the fuel, the engine, the tires. It was a habit he couldn't break, not when so much depended on things going right.
"Everything good down there?" Carol asked without looking up, her hands working to tie off the bag she'd been packing.
"Good enough." Daryl replied. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, noting the tight line of her shoulders, the way her movements seemed a little more precise than usual. She was focused, but Daryl knew her well enough to see the strain beneath it.
Codron glanced up from the map, his expression calm but his tone carrying an edge of caution. "South's rough. Fallou wasn't kidding. Bandits, walkers— Roads are shot in some places too."
Carol straightened, hefting the duffel bag and setting it down near the door. "We'll handle it," she said firmly, her eyes meeting Codron's. "The Abbey's our best shot for supplies and a safe place to regroup before heading further south. We don't have a better option."
Daryl's jaw tightened as he nodded. "I'll get Isabelle. We're burnin' daylight."
Carol didn't respond, but the slight dip of her head was enough. Daryl's boots creaked against the floor as he moved down the hall, the quiet murmurs of the others fading behind him. The door to their room was slightly ajar, and he pushed it open gently.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, lacing up her boots.
"You ready?" he asked, his voice low, though it carried an edge of concern.
Isabelle glanced up, her blue eyes meeting his. The shadow of bruising fully developed under her left eye, but her resolve was clear. "As ready as I'll ever be," she replied, her tone firm despite the weariness in her voice. She gave him a gentle smile as she stood and slid her arms into her jacket.
Daryl stepped inside, leaning against the doorframe as he watched her. His gaze lingered on her face, the bruising a stark reminder of the events from the past few days. For a moment, he said nothing, his jaw tightening as he adjusted the strap of his crossbow.
"You don't gotta push yourself too hard," he murmured finally, his voice low but steady. "We'll take it slow if we need to."
Isabelle paused, her hands smoothing over the front of her jacket as she met his gaze. "If I start slowing us down, you'll be the first to know," she replied, her lips curving into a faint smile. "But I promise, I'm fine."
Daryl huffed softly, the corner of his mouth twitching in reluctant approval. "Alright," he muttered. His eyes flicked to her boots, noting the way she shifted her weight slightly, favoring her right side. Her wrist was still badly swollen and bruised, thanks to Losang's blows. He stepped closer, his rough hands reaching for the duffel bag she'd set near the foot of the bed. "I'll take that."
Isabelle didn't argue, letting him shoulder the weight as she adjusted her jacket. "Thanks," she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that momentarily eased the tension in his shoulders.
He gave her a short nod, turning back toward the door. "C'mon. Carol and Codron are waitin'."
Isabelle followed him, her footsteps lighter than they felt. As they stepped into the main room, Carol glanced up from where she stood by the door, her sharp eyes sweeping over Isabelle before giving a brief nod of approval. Codron folded the map, tucking it into his jacket as he straightened.
"We set?" Codron asked, his tone clipped but calm.
"Set," Daryl replied as he shifted the duffel on his shoulder and reached for the door, holding it open as the others filed out into the cold morning air.
The chill bit at their faces, the faint mist of their breath visible as they made their way to the truck parked in the alley. The streets were quiet, the early hour lending an eerie stillness to the city. Daryl's eyes scanned the surroundings, every shadow and alleyway scrutinized as they loaded the supplies into the truck bed.
Carol climbed into the back passenger seat, her rifle slung across her lap. Codron hopped into the back with her, settling in among the supplies with his own weapon at the ready. Daryl held the door for Isabelle, his hand briefly brushing against hers as she climbed into the cab.
Once everyone was in place, Daryl slid behind the wheel, the truck groaning slightly as he turned the key. The engine roared to life, the sound cutting through the quiet. He spared a glance at Isabelle beside him, her hands resting lightly on her lap as she gazed out the window. Her expression was calm, but he could see the determination in the set of her jaw.
As the truck rolled forward, the faint glow of the rising sun bathed the empty streets in soft light. The city began to fade behind them, its broken skyline giving way to open roads and the looming uncertainty of what lay ahead.
The truck rattled over the uneven pavement, the occasional crack in the road jarring the vehicle and making the supplies in the back shift with a faint clatter. Daryl kept a steady grip on the wheel, his eyes darting between the road ahead and the side mirrors. The faint hum of the engine filled the cabin, broken only by the occasional creak of the truck's suspension.
Carol's voice cut through the silence, "Once we hit the outskirts, we'll need to stick to the back roads. Less chance of running into trouble."
Daryl gave a curt nod, his gaze fixed ahead. "We'll take the west route. Fewer chokepoints."
Codron's voice came from the back, low but clear. "Fallou mentioned an old supply depot a few clicks before the Abbey. Said it might still have some usable gear, but it's risky. Lot of walkers around there."
Carol glanced at the map spread across her lap, her finger tracing the route Daryl had suggested.
Daryl's knuckles tightened slightly on the wheel. "We'll see how it looks when we get there."
Beside him, Isabelle shifted in her seat, her gaze wandering to the passing landscape. The bare trees and patches of overgrown fields blurred by, a visible contrast to the claustrophobic ruins they had left behind. She exhaled quietly, the tension in her shoulders easing as the distance between them and the city grew.
"You okay?" Daryl asked, his voice low, his eyes flicking to her briefly before returning to the road.
Isabelle nodded, her lips curving into a faint smile. "I'm fine. Just... thinking."
The truck jolted over a bump, and Isabelle braced herself against the door, her hand steadying her. Her eyes flicked to Daryl's hands on the wheel, steady and sure, the way his fingers flexed slightly as he navigated the rough terrain. There was something grounding in the sight, the quiet strength he radiated even when he wasn't speaking.
His focus never wavered, his expression a calm mask that hid the weight he carried. She recognized it now—the way he prepared for the unknown, always ready for what might come next. That unspoken vigilance was something she had come to rely on, even as it stirred a deep ache within her.
"Thinkin's dangerous," Daryl muttered after a moment, his tone tinged with dry humor, though his gaze remained locked on the road ahead.
Isabelle's smile grew, soft but genuine. "So I've been told."
The road ahead curved slightly, leading them deeper into the overgrown outskirts. The silence of the wilderness was unnerving, the absence of human noise a constant reminder of the world they lived in now. Even the birds seemed to avoid this stretch of land.
The truck rattled over a stretch of cracked asphalt, the sound of loose gravel pinging against the undercarriage. Isabelle rested her elbow on the doorframe, her fingers brushing absently against the cold glass as the scenery blurred past. The air in the truck was tense but focused, the weight of their plans ahead settling heavily on all of them.
The conversation shifted to the plan for the Abbey, the hours ticking by as they traded updates on weapons, ammo, and what they could expect once they arrived. The rhythm of the truck's movement was almost hypnotic, lulling the cabin into moments of quiet reflection between bursts of planning.
The truck rolled to a slow stop on a stretch of overgrown asphalt, the silence of the wilderness broken only by the faint hum of the engine winding down. Daryl killed the ignition, and for a moment, the world outside seemed even quieter, an oppressive stillness settling over them.
"We'll top off the tank here," Daryl said, his voice low as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "Stretch our legs, eat somethin'."
Carol was already moving, grabbing one of the smaller bags of supplies from the back seat. "Good idea. Let's make it quick."
Codron stepped out of the truck, rifle in hand as his boots crunched against the cracked pavement. His eyes swept the surrounding area, his posture relaxed but alert. "I'll keep watch," he said, moving a few paces away from the vehicle to get a clearer view of their surroundings.
Isabelle climbed out of the cab, her boots hitting the ground with a soft thud. She stretched, rolling her shoulders as she glanced around the area. Overgrown grass and weeds had overtaken the sides of the road, and the skeletal remains of trees lined the horizon. It felt exposed, but there was no immediate sign of danger.
Daryl moved to the back of the truck, pulling out a fuel canister. He set it down near the gas tank, glancing briefly at Isabelle. "You good?"
She nodded, brushing a strand of hair out of her face as she nodded and gave him a small reassuring smile.
Carol handed her a small packet of dried food, her expression calm but focused. "Here. Eat while we've got the chance."
Isabelle took the packet with a small nod of thanks, tearing it open and settling herself against the truck's side. The salty taste of the dried meat was far from gourmet, but it was enough to keep her going.
Daryl worked quietly, pouring fuel into the truck's tank. His eyes flicked to Codron every so often, scanning the treeline and the overgrown road ahead.
Daryl capped the fuel tank and set the empty canister down with a quiet clink. Without a word, he adjusted the strap of his crossbow and started walking toward the treeline, his boots crunching softly against the gravel.
Carol's voice broke the momentary silence, sharp with curiosity. "Where are you going?"
Daryl didn't even glance back, his tone deadpan. "Gotta piss."
Carol rolled her eyes, her hands going to her hips. "Really?"
Daryl disappeared into the treeline, leaving Carol and Isabelle leaning against the hood of the truck. The faint sound of wind rustling through the overgrown grass filled the air as the two women watched him go.
Carol shook her head, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "Men," she muttered, her tone carrying a mix of amusement and exasperation.
Isabelle chuckled softly, tearing off another piece of the dried meat. "Guess some things never change."
Carol crossed her arms, glancing toward Isabelle. "How's the face holding up?"
"Could be worse," Isabelle replied, gingerly touching the edge of the bruise under her eye. "I'll live."
Carol gave her a small nod, her sharp eyes scanning the surrounding area. Isabelle followed her gaze, the faint tension in Carol's stance not lost on her. "You think we'll run into trouble before the Abbey?"
"I don't think," Carol said matter-of-factly. "I know. It's just a matter of when."
Before Isabelle could respond, the crunch of boots on gravel signaled Daryl's return. He stepped out of the treeline, adjusting his belt as he approached. His expression was unreadable, though his sharp gaze swept over the truck and its surroundings before settling on the two women.
Codron, who had been leaning casually against the truck bed, straightened and reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He held it out toward Daryl. "Smoke?"
Daryl hesitated for a moment before taking one, his movements deliberate as he tucked it behind his ear instead of lighting it. Codron lit his own cigarette, the small flame of the lighter briefly illuminating his face.
"Hold this," Codron said, placing his rifle on the hood of the truck and brushing past them. "My turn." As Codron disappeared into the treeline, Isabelle tore off a piece of her dried meat and held it out to Daryl. He took it with a small nod, popping it into his mouth as he leaned back against the truck.
Daryl reached for the cigarette tucked behind his ear, striking a match and lighting it between his teeth. He took a slow drag, the faint glow of the ember catching the edges of his face.
Isabelle tore off another piece of meat and handed it to him, her fingers brushing his as he took it. Before he could finish tearing it apart, she reached up and plucked the cigarette from his mouth, her movement so casual it caught him off guard.
Daryl paused, his brow raising slightly as he glanced at her. Isabelle brought the cigarette to her lips, taking a drag as her eyes flicked to his, a playful spark in her expression. She exhaled the smoke slowly, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth as she handed it back to him.
Daryl took the cigarette back, his eyes narrowing as he studied her, the corner of his mouth twitching in a way that almost resembled a smile.
Daryl huffed a quiet sound—half amusement, half exasperation—as he took another drag, the smoke curling up into the chilly air. He flicked the ash away with his thumb, his gaze lingering on her.
The sound of Codron's yell shattered the relative stillness, sharp and panicked, cutting through the cold air like a blade. The three of them snapped to attention, Daryl immediately pushing off the truck, his crossbow swinging into his hands with practiced speed.
The crashing noise that followed was unmistakable—branches snapping, underbrush crunching, and something large barreling through the trees. Isabelle's pulse quickened as her eyes darted toward the treeline, where Codron suddenly burst through, his face a mixture of urgency and alarm.
"Run!" he shouted, his voice strained as he sprinted toward them.
Behind him, a massive boar emerged from the woods, its tusks glinting menacingly in the pale morning light. The animal let out a guttural shriek, its thick body charging forward with unrelenting speed, tearing through the brush like it was nothing.
"Shit," Daryl muttered, his eyes narrowing as he quickly raised his crossbow, tracking the boar's movement.
Isabelle scrambled to the side of the truck, instinctively pressing her back against the metal as her heart raced. Carol stepped forward, her knife already in hand, though her focus stayed locked on Daryl, waiting for his shot.
Codron stumbled as he neared them, his boot catching on a rock and sending him sprawling. "Shoot the damn thing!" he barked, his breath coming in heavy gasps as he made a desperate scramble towards the truck for cover.
The boar showed no signs of slowing, its powerful legs kicking up dirt and debris as it honed in on the group. Daryl exhaled slowly, steadying himself as he aimed, the tension in his shoulders coiled like a spring.
With a sharp twang, the crossbow released, the bolt slicing through the air and striking the boar square in the shoulder. The animal let out a feral grunt, its charge faltering as it stumbled slightly, but it didn't stop. Instead, it turned its fury toward Daryl, it's dark eyes locking onto him as it let out a screeching roar.
"Daryl, move!" Carol shouted, her knife glinting as she stepped forward.
But Daryl didn't flinch, his movements steady as he reloaded, another bolt sliding into place with practiced ease. He fired again, this time hitting the boar in the chest. The beast let out a final, rusty cry before collapsing onto the ground in a cloud of dust and debris, its massive body heaving once before going still.
The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the ragged breaths of everyone in the group.
Codron lay flat on his back, panting heavily, his chest rising and falling as he stared up at the sky, trying to catch his breath. For a moment, no one moved, the tension from the chase still crackling in the air like static. Then, as if on cue, the absurdity of the situation hit, and laughter erupted, breaking the spell.
Carol leaned against the truck, chuckling as she wiped a hand across her face. Isabelle shook her head, a grin spreading across her lips as she looked at Codron sprawled on the ground. Even Daryl, still crouched near the boar, let out a low, gruff laugh as he stood and dusted off his hands.
"I couldn't tell who squealed louder," Daryl drawled, a teasing glint in his eye as he approached. "You or the pig."
Codron groaned, his arm draping over his eyes in mock defeat as the group's laughter swelled. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he muttered, though a sheepish grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Daryl smirked, pulling his knife from his belt as he crouched down beside the boar. With a brutal motion, he slit its throat, ensuring it was truly done. The metallic scent of blood mingled with the crisp air as he straightened, wiping the blade clean on his pant leg.
"Guess we've got dinner," Daryl said, nodding toward the boar as he tucked the knife back into its sheath.
Carol shook her head, her laughter subsiding as she pushed off the truck. "Dinner, and breakfast too."
Daryl stepped back toward the truck, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder. "Let's get this thing loaded up. Ain't stayin' here longer than we gotta. This much noise might've drawn more than just us." He reached down, extending a calloused hand toward Codron, who was still sprawled on the ground. "C'mon," he said, his voice gruff but tinged with amusement. Codron grunted as he clasped Daryl's hand, letting himself be hauled to his feet.
"Thanks," Codron muttered, brushing off the dirt clinging to his clothes. He shot a glance at the massive hog.
Daryl shook his head, already moving toward the boar. Codron let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he followed.
Together, they hefted the massive animal, muscles straining as they lifted it onto the back of the truck. The boar's weight settled with a heavy thud, and Daryl adjusted the straps to secure it in place.
Carol watched them, her hands on her hips, a faint smile tugging at her lips."Not bad for a pit stop," she remarked, stepping forward to help tighten the ropes.
Isabelle leaned against the truck's side, her arms crossed as she watched the scene unfold. "If this is how all our road trips go, I'm starting to question what I signed up for."
Daryl shot her a look, a glint of mischief flashing in his eyes. "I think you'll survive," he quipped, trying unsuccessfully to mask the smirk that played at the corner of his mouth.
Isabelle froze for a second, her blush creeping up instantly as his words landed. The memory of her own teasing remark from the other night hit her like a bolt, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh, really?" she said, voice dry but laced with playful indignation.
Daryl didn't reply, his smirk deepening just enough to make her pulse quicken. Isabelle tried to suppress a grin, but the heat rising to her cheeks betrayed her. Not about to give him the satisfaction, she grabbed the canteen from the truck, unscrewing the cap with deliberate ease. She took a long sip, the water doing little to cool the flush creeping across her skin.
"Cute," she muttered under her breath as she capped the canteen and tossed it back into the cab. Glancing sideways, she caught the lingering amusement in Daryl's expression. A soft laugh escaped her as she shook her head, pushing off the truck and brushing past him.
Carol's voice cut through the moment as she tightened another strap on the truck bed. "Let's get moving before something else decides to chase us."
"Good idea," Daryl replied, his tone neutral, though the faintest hint of a smirk remained as he turned back to the truck. Codron climbed into the back, and Carol took her seat beside him. Isabelle moved toward the cab, pausing briefly to glance at Daryl, who was already at the driver's side.
The silence stretched just a moment longer before she let out a small exhale and she slid into her seat. Daryl followed a beat later, the cab dipping slightly under his weight as he settled behind the wheel. He turned the key, the engine roaring to life, cutting through the stillness as he checked the mirrors and pulled back out onto the road.
The hours stretched on as the truck rattled over uneven roads, the trees on either side closing in like a canopy. The daylight was already waning, the golden hues of the setting sun casting long shadows that danced across the dirt and gravel.
Carol leaned forward from the backseat, her voice breaking the silence. "We're losing daylight. If we want to check the armory, we need to do it fast."
Daryl shook his head, his eyes never leaving the road. "Ain't worth it right now. We'll hit it in the morning when we can see what we're walkin' into. No use gettin' caught out here in the dark."
Daryl's grip on the wheel tightened as he steered them through the final stretch, the silhouette of the Abbey rising in the distance. Its stone walls were weathered but imposing, a stark reminder of what once stood as a sanctuary. Now, the stillness surrounding it felt foreboding, the absence of life palpable even from a distance.
Isabelle turned her gaze from the darkening horizon to the looming Abbey. Her stomach twisted with a mix of apprehension and nostalgia as they drew closer. It had been over a year since she'd last been here, and the memories felt both distant and painfully fresh. She wrapped her arms around herself, her fingers brushing against the edges of her coat as if bracing for what lay ahead.
The truck rolled to a stop just outside the Abbey's outer gates. The air was crisp and quiet, broken only by the faint rustling of the wind through the trees. Daryl killed the engine, and for a moment, no one moved, the weight of the place pressing down on them.
Carol was the first to speak, her tone matter-of-fact. "We need to clear the area before we unload. Check things out. Make sure nothing's waiting for us inside."
Daryl nodded, already reaching for his crossbow. "Yeah, stick close." He surveyed their surroundings through the windshield.
He turned to Carol and Codron, his voice low but firm. "Take the perimeter. Look for tracks, anything fresh. We'll take the courtyard."
Carol nodded, checking her rifle before stepping out of the truck. Codron slung his own weapon over his shoulder and followed suit.
Isabelle hesitated for a moment before climbing out of the cab. Her boots crunched softly against the ground, and she adjusted her coat, drawing it tighter against the chill in the air. Her gaze swept over the Abbey walls, memories tugging at the edges of her thoughts. It felt both familiar and foreign, a place she had once called home now cloaked in uncertainty.
Daryl moved to her side, his crossbow at the ready. "Stay close," he said gruffly, his eyes flicking to her briefly before settling on the heavy wooden gates. They were slightly ajar, the darkness beyond them beckoning like a void.
Isabelle nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.
They stepped inside, the crunch of gravel giving way to the faint creak of stone beneath their feet. The courtyard was overgrown, the once-manicured gardens now wild and unkempt. Vines climbed the walls, their tendrils creeping like veins across the crumbling stone. The faint scent of earth and decay lingered in the air.
Daryl held up a hand, signaling Isabelle to stop. His ears strained for any sound beyond their own movements, his body taut with vigilance. A faint rustle came from the far end of the courtyard, and his grip tightened on the crossbow.
"Wait here," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Isabelle frowned but nodded, pressing herself against the wall as Daryl crept forward. She watched as his figure melded into the shadows.
The rustling grew louder, and Daryl raised his crossbow, his finger hovering over the trigger. He rounded the corner, his breath steady.
A goat darted from the underbrush, its hooves clattering against the cobblestones as it skidded to a stop, startled by Daryl's presence. It stared at him, wide-eyed and frozen, its ragged coat and protruding ribs a testament to its survival in the wild. For a moment, Daryl didn't move, his crossbow still aimed at the animal.
He exhaled sharply, lowering the weapon with a muttered curse.
The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he stepped back, letting the animal scurry off toward the overgrown garden. Behind him, Isabelle peeked around the corner, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What was it?" she asked, her voice low but curious.
Daryl turned, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "A goat," he replied, his tone dripping with dry amusement. "Looks like there's still some chickens left too."
Isabelle stepped cautiously around the corner, her eyes scanning the garden where the goat had disappeared. Sure enough, a small group of chickens clucked and scratched at the ground near the crumbling remnants of what had once been a coop. Their feathers were ruffled, and they looked thinner than she remembered, but they were alive.
Her lips curved into a faint, wistful smile. "I can't believe they're still here," she murmured.
Daryl huffed softly, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder. "Better the chickens than somethin' else. Least we know we've got eggs if they're still layin'."
Isabelle moved closer to the edge of the garden, her steps slow as she took in the familiar but weathered scene. "The coop's falling apart, but they must've found enough to eat," she said thoughtfully. Her voice softened as she added, "Silvie loved those chickens. She named every single one of them."
For a moment, the weight of the past seemed to hang between them.
Daryl cleared his throat, his gaze flicking to the darkening sky. "C'mon," he said, his voice gruff. "Let's get back to the others. Still gotta make sure this place is safe 'fore we settle in."
Isabelle cast one last glance at the chickens before following him.
The faint orange glow of dusk casted shadows over the abbey courtyard as Isabelle crouched near the stone firepit, arranging a small pile of sticks into a makeshift teepee. The kindling crackled softly as she shifted the pieces, her focus unwavering. A few feet away, Carol stood, gathering thicker branches and planks of wood from a weathered pile that had been left behind from when the abbey was still inhabited.
The distant sounds of Daryl and Codron across the courtyard provided a quiet backdrop as the men worked on cleaning the hog. Their low murmurs and the occasional clink of tools punctuated the stillness as they worked.
Carol returned with an armful of wood, dropping it near Isabelle with a soft thud. "This should do for now," she said, brushing her hands off on her pants. She knelt beside the firepit, adding a few larger branches to the pile Isabelle had begun.
"Thanks," Isabelle murmured, adjusting one of the sticks so it leaned more securely against the others. Her fingers moved carefully, though her gaze was distant. "I didn't think this place could feel so... empty."
Carol glanced at her, her sharp eyes flicking toward the abandoned abbey walls. "Places like this have a way of holding onto their ghosts," she said simply, her voice calm as her eyes took in their surroundings.
Isabelle didn't respond right away, her gaze lingering on the growing pile. She finally sighed, her breath visible in the cool evening air. "It's strange being back. This place used to feel like home…" She adjusted the sticks carefully, her hands steady despite the chill biting at her fingers. "Now it just feels… hollow."
Carol picked up a stick, turning it over in her hands before tossing it onto the pile. "That's normal. Coming back to a place that used to mean something... it's not the same when the people are gone." She glanced toward the men in the distance, Codron was busy holding back one of the boar's legs as Daryl made another precise cut.
Isabelle watched them for a moment, her gaze lingering on Daryl. His focus was unwavering, his movements methodical, his hands dancing a number they'd practiced a hundred times before. Codron muttered something, but Daryl didn't so much as glance up, his concentration fixed on the task at hand. Despite the gruesome operation, there was a calmness to him, as if this moment—covered up to his elbows in blood—was his natural state. As if that's just how he was supposed to be.
Daryl seemed to sense Isabelle's gaze on him, and he glanced up from his work. For a fleeting moment, their eyes met. He offered her a small, almost imperceptible smile—subtle but enough to spark warmth in Isabelle's chest—before he returned his focus to his chore.
Carol, who had been silently observing the exchange, crouched next to Isabelle, adding another thick branch to the growing pile. A faint, knowing smile played on her lips as she spoke. "It's nice... seeing him like this." She began to light the kindling with a pack of matches she'd pulled from her pocket.
Isabelle furrowed her brow, glancing at Carol. "What do you mean?"
Carol's smile softened as she leaned back on her heels, her hands resting on her thighs. She nodded in Daryl's direction. "The way he is with you. It's different. Good different. I've never seen him let his guard down like that with anyone else."
Isabelle's heart skipped a beat, but she kept her expression neutral, focusing on adjusting the firewood. "Really?" she asked, her voice quieter now.
Carol chuckled softly. "Yeah. Daryl's always been... complicated. He doesn't talk about what he wants or what he needs. And if anyone ever brought it up, he'd just brush it off like it didn't matter. I've told him before that he deserves to be happy too… but I'm sure you can guess how well that went."
Isabelle couldn't help but smile faintly at the thought. She could picture his deflective grumbles perfectly. "But now?" she asked.
Carol's gaze flicked toward Daryl again, her expression thoughtful. "Now... he's trying. And I'm glad. He deserves this."
Isabelle swallowed the lump in her throat, the weight of Carol's words settling heavily in her chest. She hesitated before asking, "Has he not been involved with anyone else... since you've known him?"
Carol tilted her head, considering her response carefully. "There was Leah," she said after a moment. "But it wasn't the same. From the bits and pieces he's actually told me. I never actually saw them together. Just... heard about it after the fact." Carol shrugged, her gaze drifting toward the fire. "I don't know the whole story, but it didn't work out. Daryl doesn't talk about it much."
Isabelle nodded slowly, her hands pausing in their work as she mulled over Carol's words. "He seems..." She hesitated, searching for the right words. "Like he's lived a lot of his life expecting the worst."
Carol's expression softened, a flicker of understanding passing across her face. "He has," she admitted quietly. "But that doesn't mean he doesn't want more. It just took him a while to realize he deserved it."
Isabelle's fingers grazed the edge of the firepit, her gaze flickering toward Daryl once more. Carols gaze followed hers before she continued. "Seeing him now, and the person he's grown into…" She let out a soft laugh and shook her head. "He was hot-headed. Always on the defense… always trying to fill the shoes that Merle made him think he had to. Getting away from him and finding his own path was the best thing that ever happened to him. Let him figure himself out, let him realize that he was capable of so much more."
Isabelle listened intently, her brow furrowing slightly as she took in Carol's words. "Merle?" she asked softly, testing the name on her tongue. She'd heard Daryl mention his real brother only once, in passing, but his tone had made it clear it wasn't a subject he cared to linger on.
Carol nodded, a faint sigh escaping her as she added another piece of wood to the fire. "His older brother. Let's just say Merle wasn't the best influence. He was... loud, reckless, and had a way of making Daryl think he wasn't good enough without him."
Isabelle frowned, her fingers idly brushing against a stray twig as she mulled over that revelation. "But Daryl got away from him?"
"Eventually," Carol confirmed, her gaze distant for a moment as though recalling the weight of those early days. "It wasn't easy. Merle had a hold on him—years of making him feel like he needed to follow in his footsteps. But when Daryl started finding his own way, when he started connecting with other people... he changed."
Carol's voice softened, a hint of pride creeping into her tone. "He's still rough around the edges—probably always will be. But he's loyal, he's kind in his own way, and he's one of the strongest people I've ever met. And now..." She gestured subtly toward where Daryl was standing, as he worked with Codron. "Now, he's finally letting himself show that side to someone."
Isabelle's gaze drifted back to Daryl, her fingers pausing in their work as she watched him. His movements were deliberate, his focus unwavering, and yet there was a quietness about him—a steadiness that spoke of something deeper beneath the surface. The warmth Carol's words had stirred in her chest spread further, wrapping around her like a blanket against the chill.
"He's…" Isabelle hesitated, struggling to find the right words. "He's different. I could see it in his eyes when I first met him." Her voice was quiet, almost like she was afraid to disrupt the fragile honesty hanging between them. "He wears his emotions in his eyes. His pain, everything he's been through, but everything he wants at the same time. It was intimidating… sometimes it still is." Her lips curved into a faint smile as she picked up a stray twig from the ground in front of her. She plucked the leaves from it as her mind worked.
Carol nodded slowly, studying Isabelle's face with a mix of curiosity and fondness. "Everything he's been through is what's made him who he is. And God knows, he's had to fight for every inch of peace he's ever found. But I'm glad that he's finally giving himself a chance. And that it's with you, tells me everything I need to know about you."
Isabelle felt her cheeks flush, the firelight catching the pink that crept across her skin. She ducked her head slightly, letting her hair shield her face as she focused on the fire. Her fingers fidgeted with the twig in her hands, the weight of Carol's words settling over her.
"I don't know if I deserve that kind of credit," Isabelle said softly, her voice almost swallowed by the crackling fire. She glanced toward Daryl, her gaze lingering on the curve of his shoulders, the way his hands moved. "Sometimes, I feel like... like I'm just lucky he decided to stick around."
Carol let out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head as she knelt to arrange another piece of wood over the growing flames. "That's not luck, Isabelle. That's you. Daryl doesn't do anything he doesn't want to. If he's with you, it's because he wants to be."
Isabelle stilled, the weight of the distinction pressing against her chest. Her fingers stilled in their fidgeting as she looked at Carol, the older woman's expression calm but filled with a depth of understanding that only time and experience could bring.
"Just don't be afraid to hold your ground with him," Carol added, her tone playful but sincere. "He needs someone who can put him in his place every now and then."
A small laugh escaped Isabelle, her tension easing slightly. "I think I can handle that," she said, her voice holding a teasing lilt.
Carol smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement as Daryl's boots crunched against the stone courtyard behind them as he approached. His arms were streaked with blood, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and a faint sheen of sweat clung to his brow. He wiped his hands on a rag as he neared the firepit, the scent of fresh-cut meat and iron following him.
"All done?" Carol asked, and Isabelle turned, giving him a small smile as he stepped to stand beside her.
Daryl gave a small nod, his voice gruff but even. "Yep. Once the fire's good and goin' we can get some cooked up for dinner." He glanced at Carol, then let his eyes drift to Isabelle, catching her soft smile. His gaze lingered for a moment before he wiped his hands once more on the rag, tucking it into his back pocket.
Carol straightened, dusting her hands off as she shot Isabelle a knowing look. "Good. Should be just about ready." She grabbed another piece of wood from the pile, tossing it into the flames before stepping back.
"I'll go grab some stuff to cook with," she said casually, leaving the two of them alone as she moved toward the truck.
Isabelle tilted her head slightly, her smile growing as she looked at Daryl. He turned his head to look at her, curiosity crossing his gaze. "What?" he asked, one corner of his mouth turning up into a half smile.
"Nothing," She said quietly, as she raised up on her toes to press a soft, quick kiss against his lips. He huffed out a soft laugh, and studied her face. She scrunched her nose up and leaned back a touch. "You stink." She said with a laugh, her hand coming up to rest against his chest.
Daryl raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching as if holding back a grin. "What?"
"You smell like the hog." Isabelle replied, her tone light, the teasing glint in her eyes unmistakable.
He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head, his mouth dropping open in mock offense. "Yeah, well, that thing didn't exactly smell like roses." His voice was dry, but there was a faint spark of amusement in his expression.
Isabelle laughed softly, and Daryl wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. She squirmed against him, letting out a playful squeal as she pushed against his chest. "Daryl!" she exclaimed, her laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. "You're disgusting!"
She felt the rumble of his laugh reverberate through his chest, the teasing retort on her tongue fading as she caught the rare, unguarded smile that lit up Daryl's face. It was a smile that softened the hard lines of his features, made his eyes crinkle just enough to remind her how human he was beneath all the grit and survival. The firelight danced across his face, highlighting the glint of his teeth as he laughed—a sight so foreign yet so fitting, she wasn't prepared for the things it made her feel seeing it for the first time.
Isabelle stilled in his arms for a beat, realizing that, despite the stench that radiated from him, there was no other place she'd rather be.
Daryl's hand splayed against her back, steadying her as if instinctively knowing she was lost in her own thoughts. Flustered, Isabelle stepped back, smoothing her jacket with an exaggerated huff.
"How do you do… that?" She asked, dusting off her arms, though there was nothing there. He watched her with amusement as she smoothed down the front of her coat.
Daryl's brow quirked, and the corner of his mouth tugged upwards, the remnants of his earlier grin still lingering. "Do what?" both palms raised in genuine confusion.
Isabelle crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at him with mock indignation. "You just... smile," she said, her tone playful but earnest, "and suddenly I lose any motivation to be angry with you."
Her words hung in the air for a moment, and Daryl's smile faltered slightly as he huffed a soft laugh in that familiar way that said he wasn't sure what to do with the compliment. His eyes sparkling in the firelight.
Isabelle's teasing expression faded as she glared at him, his eyes were burning into hers. Isabelle felt the blush creep up her cheeks again, but she didn't look away this time, she couldn't give him the satisfaction of it. She watched the muscles in his jaw flex and she narrowed her eyes at him playfully.
"You're impossible." She said quietly, finally letting her gaze drop as she shook her head, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite her best efforts to appear exasperated. She turned back to the fire, tossing a small twig into the flames as if it could burn away the sudden warmth pooling in her chest.