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1.
It was quiet in the watch tower. And he needed this. Needed to be alone, away from the others. To be able to think. To process everything that happened. To clear his head, even if his heart hurt so much.
Beth and Hershel had taken his newborn sister inside to the cell block they occupied. Maggie and Daryl were already gone, scavenging for the baby’s formula. Glenn was digging graves for the ones they’d lost today – T and Carol… his mom. The one Carl himself had shot in the head only a couple of hours earlier. To prevent her from turning into a walker. It was the least he could do for her; it was his sacred duty as a son. The boy swallowed down the urge to cry. He remembered his mother's last words.
You promise me, you'll always do what's right…Don't let the world spoil you…You're my sweet boy. The best thing I ever did…
And he’d been so cruel to her all these past months. Drifting away, judging and siding with his father. If only he could go back in time and change everything… To have a chance to tell her how sorry he was for his behavior, how much he loved her, how much he missed her already. He wanted to burst into sobs, weep and wail and roll in the dirt like his father did. But it wouldn't help anything. There was no way back for them. Carl knew that he would have to live with the guilt for the rest of his life. And he knew that he would see that boiler room in his nightmares over and over again. One can never forget a thing like that.
No more kids stuff.
He’d realized it when Sophia had walked out of that barn back at the Greene farm; when Dale died – partly because of him; when he had to kill walker Shane. Today was the last nail in the coffin of his childhood. He had a promise to keep; he had to live up to his mother's expectations. He had to take care of his little sister, support his father in their shared grief, become the man his mom would've been proud of.
No time for self-pity, he had to go check on the baby; perhaps Hershel and Beth needed his help. At the thought of the girl, Carl recalled his previous visit to the watch tower. It had been just the day before but it seemed like years had passed since then. There was definitely no place for poems in this world anymore.
2.
It was a fine night, the air was cool and pleasant, and stars twinkled in the sky, indifferent to the world beneath. Only the occasional growls of the walkers at the prison gates disturbed the surrounding silence. Glenn leaned on the railing of the watch tower, trying to see something in the dark, wishing to hear the familiar roar of the motorcycle. With every moment that passed, he felt more agitated and anxious. It was the worst part – waiting, worrying sick and imaging the worst, unable to do anything. That was why he preferred to be the one who made the supply runs, rather than the one who stayed behind and waited.
But he had to oblige Maggie, who felt that it was something she owed to Lori. Lori… T-Dog… Carol… And only this morning, he’d thought that it would be a good day. What a fool he was! They’d lost a third of their group, their family, in one day. Because they were not careful enough, because they’d let their guard down. They should've killed all those prisoners on sight.
The young man looked down at the two men sitting near the fence, ready to distract walkers when needed. It was a sick thought, he knew it was. Axel and Oscar seemed like decent guys, but as he’d said to Hershel earlier, he would've traded any number of the outsiders without hesitation, if it meant that he could provide safety to his people. He wasn't the boy that cried over some bunch of burnt corpses anymore. Being merciful in this new world could lead to some very devastating results; it could even mean that the people you loved most might have to pay with their lives. He’d had to learn this cruel lesson the hardest way.
Glenn rubbed his neck absentmindedly – it really hurt. Although he didn't blame Rick, for it wasn't his fault. The man had just lost his wife and wasn't thinking clearly. But still, that glint of insanity he’d seen in Grimes’ eyes worried Glenn a little. Yet, he trusted their leader with everything he had, and now was not the time to start questioning his authority. They'd give Rick space to grieve and process his loss. Besides, Daryl had stepped up and was handling the responsibility amazingly well.
Glenn wondered how he would’ve reacted if it was Maggie in Lori's place. Truth be told, the young man didn't want to know the answer. His concerns about the birth control had proved to be right. They couldn't afford such a huge risk in future. This wasn't the world he wanted to bring his children in, and he definitely didn’t want to put Maggie's life in unnecessary danger.
There was yet another disturbing thought that’d been nagging him all day long; regardless of how hard he tried to push it down, it continued to raise its ugly face to him. What if Maggie hadn’t made it today, just like Carol? What would've it meant to him and Daryl? They both tried to forget that night in CDC, pretend that nothing had happened. It was a mistake; they both were lonely and drunk at the time and it (whatever it was) could seriously complicate the group dynamics. It was easier to live in denial; not to think of the pain that caused Daryl's rejection. For being such a terrible liar, he managed to succeed in this pretense somehow. Besides, he would rather die than hurt Maggie. But every time Glenn looked at Daryl, he couldn't help but wonder what if…
A familiar sound coming from the distance woke the young man from his reverie. He felt immensely relieved. They were safe. A great load had been taken off his heart.
"Guys, they're back," he called to the two men who waited down at the gates.
3.
Oscar took the first shift in the guard tower. The man still didn't feel comfortable around the new people and he needed a break from Axel's constant rambling. The latter just couldn't keep his mouth shut, even for a minute. Although, after being locked together for almost a year, he’d learned to cope with that annoying trait of the inmate’s character. Sometimes, it was just like a white noise to him.
But nevertheless, he reveled in the silence of the night. If it weren't for the stray walkers by the prison fence, one might've thought that the world hadn’t changed a bit. One might’ve thought that there were still a chance for him to return home to his wife and kids. Oscar couldn't give up the hope that they’d somehow survived this hell and that, maybe, they were waiting somewhere safe for him to come back. The past ten months being locked up with those psychos – Tomas and Andrew – were a nightmare to him; only the thought of his family kept him going. And now the universe wanted to take that last thing away from him.
Of course, he wasn't a saint. He’d made a lot of bad choices and decisions in his life; if he’d been a saint, he wouldn't have been arrested for breaking and entering in the first place. And yet it was unfair – his kids were too young and innocent to die. They didn't deserve such a fate. He refused to believe that they were gone, no matter what. He was going to try and find them, and he had to stay alive for that. Even if it meant that he'd have to integrate with these new people. Oscar sensed their hostility towards him and Axel; he was neither a fool, nor was blind. The man realized that he and his inmate would have to try their best to earn a place in the group.
Like he’d said the other day to their leader, Grimes, when the man had pointed a gun to his head, he never begged for his life and never would. But Oscar needed these people to survive and maybe he'd gain their trust through his loyalty and willingness to fight with them side by side.
The man felt familiar soreness in his feet. He could've sold his very soul to the devil for a pair of nice cozy slippers at that moment!
4.
The young woman sighed and gave another thorough look at the prison perimeter and bordering fields before she went back inside the guard tower. It seemed like it was going to be a long night.
Glenn had offered to take this watch instead of her, or to come and keep her a company, but she’d declined his offer. He had already taken his turn in the tower and they were planning to make a scavenging trip the next day, in hope of finding ammo or more baby formula. He needed to have some rest. Tenderness filled Maggie's chest when she thought of her boyfriend. Glenn was convinced that, if it weren't for the apocalypse, she wouldn't have even spared a second glance at him. She’d told him then that he was wrong but, truth be told, Maggie wasn't sure of that herself. One thing was certain – ever since their talk on the porch that night at the farm, it was clear that she wanted to be more than just a friend to Glenn. There was something endearing in his sincere worry for his friends, his awkwardness around her, his willingness to put his own interests behind everyone else's. Of, course the past months on the road had changed him, hardened him to some extent, made him more mature; yet underneath all that, he was still the same Glenn, the man she’d fallen for.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times as good old Dickens would've said. If not for the end of the world, she and Glenn might have never met. She'd always been a little atheistic, more inclined to believe in faith than in some divine intent, but she was grateful to whatever it was that had brought Rick's group to their farm. Even if they’d lost Otis, Patricia and Jimmy, she still had her family – her father and Beth; moreover, she had found love as well. Of all the members of their group, she knew that she had the most to lose. That's why she had to step up, to become "one of the boys" in order to protect her loved ones. At first, Glenn and Hershel had some issues with that, but in the end, they both had to give up and let her have her own way. She felt that they were as proud of her as they were worried for her safety. The love for Glenn and her family was what had been and would continue to keep her strong. It was a tough world for a woman to adapt to, but as long as she had someone to live for, she wouldn't go down without a fight.
She thought of Lori. The woman had sacrificed her life for her unborn child. Maggie herself had considered the idea of having children at some point in future. Glenn's kids. Lori's death had a huge impact on her. Part of her was terrified; it was a long way off till she would stop reliving Lori's final moments in her darkest nightmares. Yet, when she held the 'Little Ass-Kicker', as Daryl called the infant, Maggie couldn't help but feel longing for a baby of her own. Because, in the end, this miracle of life was worth everything. In the given circumstances, she knew she wouldn't hesitate and do the same thing that Lori had done.
5.
His mind was fuzzy, he couldn't think straight. Suddenly, he found himself in the guard tower. He didn't even remember how he had gotten there in the first place. All he knew was that he needed to get away from the damn boiler room. Away from the rotting corpse of a walker that, presumably, had eaten the remains of his deceased wife. The bastard ate Lori's body! Rick shrugged. He couldn't even say goodbye to her properly. There's never time. No matter how hard he tried, the universe would not give him a break. He felt that he was losing his sanity. Why else would he get those calls from the dead? Amy, Jim, Jacqui…Lori. What were they trying to tell him? Were they convincing him to give up, to commit suicide?
Maybe they were right. There wasn't much hope left. Perhaps, he should end it then and there and take the others with him. The same thing that Jenner tried to do at CDC. Take the easiest way out. What was the use of fighting if they would be defeated eventually? Either by the dead or by the living. To die, to sleep…
…by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to...
A funny thing, how it all came to Shakespeare in the end. But he wasn’t some pathetic and crazy prince of Denmark! Rick started to nervously pace from one corner of the small room to the other. He had tried his best the past year, he’d tried to be a good husband but, in the end, he’d failed. He’d tried to keep Lori alive and he failed that as well. He tried to be just to others and it only led to betrayal. He tried to be merciful and in the result his people were killed. He would not make the same mistake again, he couldn't trust anyone. He wanted to scream, to burst into sobs, to go and kill more walkers… He'd invested so much hope and energy into taking the prison and in the end it had taken his wife from him. It wasn't fair!
With bitterness, Rick recalled the last time he'd been in this watch tower. Lori. If only he could've stepped on his stupid pride then and opened the metaphorical door that he’d closed on their relationship all those months ago after Shane's murder. He loved her. Why couldn't he tell her that when he had a chance?
Lori was right – he had his kids, it was his sacred duty to take care of them, to protect them. At any cost. He had to pull himself together. The man raised his head and caught his reflection in the window. His face was covered with dirt, blood and sweat. There was a mixture of pain and despair in his eyes and they gleamed with something that disturbed him. Was it the first sign of madness? Why else would he get those calls from the dead? Perhaps it was a bad idea to tell all that to Hershel.
Rick vigorously shook his head. No. He wasn't some lunatic. It was just his way of coping with grief. He had to clean himself of all the gore and grime and see his children. Carl. God. He was so selfish, so wrapped up in his own emotions and guilt that he’d forgotten about the most important thing. Carl had to commit matricide. He failed his son. And he hadn’t even seen the baby yet. The baby that could be Shane's as well as his. But it didn't matter. It was his baby and his responsibility.
Deep down, he hoped that Lori would call again and he could tell her about their kids. He missed her so much.
6.
The kid did it on purpose, just to piss him off! Daryl had specifically asked Glenn not to wear that stupid black polo. No one would believe him (just like with the Chupacabra story), but Glenn did have a history of unlucky events with those black tops. First, there was that incident in Atlanta, when he'd been kidnapped by the fucking fake gangsters; then there were a couple of times when walkers almost got him when they were on the road and now this! He’d gotten himself abducted. Again. Every. Single. Time. Glenn was wearing the damn black shirts. What the hell?
And only a few hours ago, he’d been thinking that things might've been getting better. He’d found Carol safe and sound. Sure, she was weak and dehydrated but, hey, what mattered most – she was alive! If Daryl were a religious man, he would've chanted a blessing prayer then and there to whatever god still existed up there. The moments before he opened that door into the room, where Carol was hiding, were some of the worst in his life. He sat there in the corridor, fearing what he might see behind the door, afraid of seeing Carol turned into a walker. Feeling guilty; he blamed himself for not setting up a search right away. For giving up on her that easily. He knew she'd become a fighter, no longer the meek and submissive victim that used to endure years of abuse in an unhappy marriage. A strong independent woman. He was so proud of her. Yet, he hadn’t looked for her. He’d been stupid enough to accept the dumb scarf as solid evidence of her death. Then again, he was too afraid to let himself have another vain hope, like that time with Sophia. Carol was the first person in the group (and maybe in all his life) who acknowledged him, who had started to treat him as someone who deserved respect and friendship. She was the only one who truly cared about him for who he was. He’d failed her.
Just like he’d failed Merle. His elder brother, who, regardless of all his shortcomings, was still his kin. Merle deserved better than being left on that rooftop. Daryl often thought of his brother, wondered if he was still out there somewhere, hoped that he was. Like he’d once said, nobody could kill Merle but Merle – feed him a hammer, he'd crap out nails. And then he'd wondered how Merle might’ve reacted if he'd known that his baby brother was so comfortable with people responsible for the loss of his hand. If it came down to choosing between Merle and the group, whose side would he take? Blood was thicker than water; it didn't matter how dysfunctional their relationship was, Daryl just couldn't ignore the ties that bonded them. On the other hand, these people had grown on him. They were his family now, the kind of family he’d never had. He would die for each and every one of them if needed.
Merle's hallucination had once told him that he was nothing but an errand boy to them, but it wasn't true. He'd earned his place in the group and he would follow Rick without a second thought despite Grimes’ involvement in the rooftop story. Rick was an honorable man and had done right by Daryl. Even if he was in the dark place now. Although Daryl had stepped up during Rick's breakdown, he’d never craved the power or wanted that kind of responsibility. Grimes was the genuine leader and Daryl would always remain loyal to him.
All these thoughts came to Daryl as the man was scanning the surrounding fields, counting walkers by the fence. From the corner of his eye, Daryl caught sight of Axel, who was helping Oscar and Rick load the car with ammo. Michonne, the girl with the sword, who’d informed them about Glenn and Maggie's abduction, was standing nearby. Daryl didn't trust her, but they had no choice. He felt uncomfortable about leaving the women and children unprotected. Carl was a tough kid, but nonetheless, he was just a kid. Hershel was a crippled old man and Axel wasn't the best fighter. If something happened, they wouldn't be able to defend the prison or protect it from possible intruders.
Then again, Glenn and Maggie's lives were at stake. Glenn. It was Atlanta all over again. Why had he abandoned the search for Merle and instead risked his life to retrieve the kid from the vatos? He hadn’t even liked Glenn back then. At least not that much. He tried not to analyze his feelings towards the kid. He tried to forget the night they’d spent together at CDC and he’d almost managed to convince himself that it was a stupid mistake. They’d both been drunk and needed to ease the stress of the near death experience they’d all faced. Daryl was relieved that Glenn seemed not to remember anything the next morning. And yet, at the same time, it stung somehow. The same way it’d stung when the kid started up a relationship with Maggie.
He wanted to hate the farm girl, but knew that it was irrational. It was for the best. Daryl would never attach himself to another person in that way. Love had always been an alien notion to him. Even his mother had preferred booze to her own sons. Affection was something he couldn't comprehend and thus, he considered it the most useless of all human emotions. It was too late to change that. Especially in the days of apocalypse.
Then again, why would he try to cockblock Glenn and Maggie whenever he had a chance? Why would he act like a dog in the manger? He didn't know the answer to that and, quite frankly, didn't want to. Besides it didn't matter now. He only hoped that they wouldn't come too late…
Daryl gave a final look at the fields and the road and started to climb down.
7.
The man hated the silence. It was too creepy for his tastes. And all those walkers lurking down there, behind the prison gates, didn't help much to calm down his nerves. Sometimes, he wished that Rick and the others had never rescued them from that cafeteria. Big Tiny would've still been alive.
He’d never really liked Tomas or Andrew; they’d bullied him, Oscar and Big Tiny. They’d especially liked to pick on him. Tomas had even threatened to kill him first, if they ran out of food eventually. Axel shrugged. Even now, the thought terrified him.
But at least he’d always known what to expect of his inmates, as opposed to the ragtag group of survivors. These people were far from eager to receive him and Oscar with open arms. Their leader, Rick, intimidated Axel in particular. There was something dangerous in his eyes, something unpredictable. And the redneck with a crossbow – it was probably better not to mess with him either. The Asian kid and his hot girlfriend were much more bearable; he hoped the others would be able to save them. Or just her. He could try his chances with the girl in that case.
Such a pity that, of the three women in this group, one was taken and the other was still a child. He didn't count the lesbian. It'd been ages since he’d gotten laid! On the bright side, he was lucky that Tomas had Andrew and never made advances towards him… That was one disturbing notion. Axel decided to think of the women again. The blond girl was pretty and looked tempting. He never had any pedophilic inclinations before, but the options were limited now and the age difference wasn’t such a big crime anymore. Maybe he should try to flirt with Beth a little, test his grounds and see where it could get him. If only he could get rid of that annoying boy for a minute; the young Grimes was apparently attached at the hip with the blond. And it was probably better to not let Hershel know about his intentions.
Axel scratched his beard. It wasn't as thick as Hershel's but he liked it and was especially proud of his mustache. Big Tiny and Oscar used to mock him because of that. He didn't care; growing facial hair and tending to it was some sort of a stress reliever for him. In the old days, he would have used drugs for that.
The man glanced through the window of the tower and chuckled. If someone would've told him a year ago that one day, he would be the one guarding the prison, he would've considered that person insane. He sighed, worrying about Oscar. They’d grown close over the past months; Axel didn't want anything bad happening to his friend during that rescue mission.
8.
Carol looked down from the balcony of the tower and smiled at Beth, who carried Judith out for some fresh air. Carl stood nearby on guard, ready to protect them if needed. Such a lovely sight. It made her chest tighten; her smile faded. The memory of her little daughter crept into the woman's mind. Sophia and Beth would've been good friends, had she lived.
Carol felt weakness in her knees; she went inside, sunk down upon the dirty floor and closed her eyes. It was too painful sometimes. She would never be relieved of the feeling of guilt at not being able to save her only child. Had she been with Sophia under the car that summer day on the road, had she held her tight and not let go running off into the woods, the girl would've still been alive. Every night in her dreams, she relived those moments and every time, she woke up in tears. She wasn't there to ease her little angel's last moments. Sophia was bit and must have suffered before she died. And Carol couldn't do anything to prevent it; she would never be able to forgive herself for that.
Useless. That what Ed always used to say, either in private (while physically abusing her), or in public, trying to humiliate her in front of their friends, their daughter. And over the years of marriage, she'd come to the same conclusion. Why else would she have let him treat her like that, if she didn't believe the same? She’d let that bastard of a husband use her as a door-mat. Sophia had an unhappy childhood because of her weakness, because of her inability to leave Ed. Because of the man's stinginess, her baby never had the dolls she wanted. Ed considered buying toys to be waste of money. And that was just the tip of an iceberg…
She used to be a religious person; she’d gone to church every Sunday, she tried to keep the commandments and avoid sin, if possible. She used to pray. But after Sophia came out of Hershel's barn, Carol lost her faith. No matter how hard one prayed, it wouldn’t miraculously change a selfish abusive man into a loving husband and caring father; it wouldn’t bring her daughter back to life. Miracles didn’t happen by divine intent; they only happened if one made an effort themselves. In this new world, she had to rely only on her own power, strength and abilities to survive.
She had a lot to think about during those two days of her forced imprisonment, after T-Dog had sacrificed his life to save hers. Was she worth it? Did she deserve to live while her daughter was dead? But if she stopped fighting and gave up, it would have meant that Theodore had died for nothing. It would have proved that Ed was always right when he called her useless... That thought made Carol bitter and angry at herself. She wasn't a helpless victim anymore and she never would be again. There were people who cared for her now, who would come looking for her. She knew that Daryl would find her eventually; she couldn't disappoint him or T.
She had become a valuable asset to the group these past months on the road, and not only in cooking or washing clothes. She learned to shoot like a pro, and kill walkers more skillfully. She knew that Daryl was secretly proud of her and Rick used to rely on her abilities to protect Lori and Beth when he wasn't around. And now he trusted her with his children. Beth, Carl and Judith. She could never replace their lost mothers, just like they would never replace Sophia in her heart, but she could try to provide the motherly care they all needed, and perhaps, in time, it could help to heal her own broken soul.
She didn't feel like a burden anymore.