Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/4965889. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence Category: M/M Fandom: The_Walking_Dead_(TV) Relationship: Daryl_Dixon/Rick_Grimes, Past-_Daryl_Dixon/_Orignal_Female_Character, Other_Background_Relationships_-_Relationship Character: Daryl_Dixon, Rick_Grimes, Carol_Peletier, Carl_Grimes, Michonne_(Walking Dead), Beth_Greene, Maggie_Greene, Glenn_Rhee, Abraham_Ford, Rosita Espinosa, Tara_Chambler, Eugene_Porter, Morgan_Jones, Deanna_Monroe Additional Tags: Underage_Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced_Rape/Non-con, Beth_is_Alive!!, Sorta_A/U, Rickyl, Rick_in_Love, Daryl_doesn't_do_relationships, Kidnapping, kidnapped_Carl, Daryl_doesn't_know_he_is_a_dad, bisexual!Daryl, bisexual!Rick, Friends_With_Benefits!Rickyl, This_is_a Rickyl, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Rape_Recovery, Rape_Aftermath Stats: Published: 2015-10-09 Updated: 2015-11-04 Chapters: 4/? Words: 8050 ****** Carrying Your Love to the Grave ****** by musicrocksssss Summary "One minute you want to be with me, the next you call it off. I was fine with the one time thing at the prison. Then one turned to two, and so on. I told you I wanted to be with you, Daryl. I told you I loved you, that I'm in love with you. You told me it was better to just end it. I said okay. Now I am empty inside," Rick cried. Daryl looked down in guilt. "My wife is dead, my son is missing and probably traumatized and hurt or dead, and the guy I want to be with is cold-hearted and 'doesn't do love'. I get it. So stop playing with my feelings." Carl is Kidnapped. Rick is broken and Daryl has a kid? Notes Okay. So first, I am looking for a Beta and or writing partner. Second. This story does have Underage implied rape. any talk of it, I will warn before the chapter.   This chapter was Beta by a awesome person but she is busy and can't continue betaing. The story starts off at the episode "A" Beth doesn't get kidnapped by the hospital people. Daryl grabs her before hand so she is currently alive. They do run into Noah and save him but he does die because of Nicholas. Please leave Nice reviews. And let me know if you can beta or want to help me write this. Ideas are awesome. This is a Rickyl! See the end of the work for more notes ***** "A" *****       "Dad! ”  "Let's go kid! ” "Stop squirming! ”  "Dad! Wake up! ” "Dad save me! ”  "DAD! ”   Rick sat up in a warm sheet of sweat. Looking around, he was in the back of the blue truck with Michonne. He took a moment to piece the last few hours back together.   Him and Michonne were by a fire, talking about what would happen at Terminus or if there wasn't a zombie apocalypse. Carl was sleeping in the truck.   "You screwed up asshole." He felt a gun to his temple .  I was knocked out." He whispered. He looked around and noticed his son gone from the seat. "CARL!" Rick tried opening the back of the truck.  Michonne woke up with a groan.   "Rick? What happened?" She whispered.   "We were knocked out, we got to find Carl!" Michonne was fully awake at the thought of Carl missing. "I can't get the doors opened." He sounded desperate.   Michonne climbed over the seats and opened the side door, Rick following. Rick stepped in a puddle of blood, his heart sank.   Once they were outside they looked around. There was three walkers, dead instantly with Michonne's sword she grabbed from the ground.   They looked at the car that was smeared in blood. Written on the windshield in blood was one message that made their heart stop.    'Goodbye'   "Carl!" Rick yelled, not caring if they attracted more.   "Rick." Michonne looked at him. He knew the look, the look of defeat.  "No! They didn't! They couldn't!" Rick's eyes filled with tears.  She noticed something brown on the ground behind a tree. She walked over to the cowboy hat and a tear fell to the ground. She handed it to Rick and he pulled it to his chest.   "He is all I got left. No. No. No. No." He whispered over and over again.        Rick sat up in bed. Same nightmare. He looked and saw Daryl wasn't next to him. He walked over to Judith's crib and saw she was still sound asleep. He put pants on over his boxers and walked downstairs.  Sitting at the dining table was Carol, Daryl, Michonne and Beth. They looked up and saw him. Walking over, he sat down at the table next across from them.   "Hey. What's going on?”   "We were just talking about making another run to Georgia. To look again." Carol said.   Rick sighed. He knew what they were talking about. They were going back to Georgia to search for Carl.   "I know it's been a month but I feel he is still out there. We got another map since someone lost our last one," Michonne paused looking at Daryl. "-but we're going to search again. Daryl and I.”  "I really appreciate this. I miss Carl more than anything." He said rubbing his hand over his face. "When I thought Judith was dead and then Carl kidnapped, I didn't want to live anymore but Michonne, Beth and Daryl pushed me. I thank you for that. I do. Now I have Judith keeping me going but I can't help but to think Carl is still out there. I agree." He looked at all of them. "But we have responsibility here.”   "You mean Jessie and her husband?" Carol asked.   "Yeah. He's beating his wife. But not just that, Daryl and Aaron are going on a run. So they were going to have to wait till after the run to go.”  Carol, Daryl, Beth and Michonne sighed, knowing he was right.   "I'm going to go check on the boys." Beth got up and walked out.   Rick knew she was talking about the 7 year old, JJ, and the 1 year old, DJ, Carol and Tyreese found at the house they found after the prison.   "How did you find those boys?" Rick asked Carol.   "Mika and I found a house and when Tyreese, Judith, Lizzie, Mika and I walked in and searched, they were hiding in a closet. JJ said that DJ's mom disappeared a few days before then.”   Rick sighed knowing she was probably eaten.   "I couldn't leave them." Rick nodded, agreeing. "Okay so back to this, after Daryl and Aaron get back from their run, we will go and search this neighborhood." Carol circled an area on the map.   "We already went back to the house Carol was staying at, where Daryl lost the map-" Michonne started.   "I get it! I lost the map. Geesh, lay off me." Daryl stated.   "How do you lose a map in your pocket.”   "Takin' a piss." He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, smirking at Rick. He knew how they lost the map. Rick blushed.   "Okay and then we checked Terminus in case he escaped and went there. So then where would he go?" Michonne finished, looking at Rick.   "Probably back home, to King County," Rick answered.   "Or the Prison." Daryl added.   "The prison is overrun. Too dangerous." Carol looked at the map. "We will check King County.”   Rick nodded and at that moment Judith started whining. He got up, gave them one last nod and walked upstairs. Making his way to Judith, he picked her up and sat down on his bed with her against his chest. He rocked her back to sleep before putting her back down.   Daryl came up and sat beside them, holding Rick.   “Don't," Rick whispered. Daryl released him as Rick turned around.   “Rick..."   "Stop doing this," Rick told him. He was so tired and out of energy, he was tired of fighting his feeling.  "Doing what?" Rick stood up and started pacing.  "One minute you want to be with me, the next you call it off. I was fine with the one time thing at the prison. Then one turned to two, and so on. I told you I wanted to be with you, Daryl. I told you I loved you, that I'm in love with you. You told me it was better to just end it. I said okay. Now I am empty inside," Rick cried. Daryl looked down in guilt. "My wife is dead, my son is missing and probably traumatized and hurt or dead, and the guy I want to be with is cold-hearted and 'doesn't do love'. I get it. So stop playing with my feelings." He ended his rant.   "Rick..." Daryl started.   "Just get out." Daryl protested and Rick screamed, "GET OUT!”   Judith started crying and Daryl got up.   "I'm sorry," he said as he closed the door, leaving Rick inside, broken.   Rick grabbed Judith and calmed her down. Tears going down his cheeks, he whispered to her.   "Your brother will be with us again. We won't stop till we find him." Dead or alive. "I love you Lil Asskicker. Daddy and Carl love you so much." ***** B for breathing ***** Chapter Summary Daryl reveals some of his past to Carol Chapter Notes So I don't have a beta yet so this chapter isn't beta'd. But I would like a beta if anyone can, please comment. I remember something about someone saying daryl can tell the difference between good and bad people so I added that into this chapter. See the end of the chapter for more notes     "Daryl! Get up you lazy bastard."  7 year old Daryl sat up in his bed, if you can call it that. A lumpy old mattress on the ground with a dead pillow and shirts as a blanket is more like it. Looking at the clock, it was 8:32am. Daryl got up and grabbed his pants and a shirt.  "Daryl!" His so called father called him again. He opened the door, fully clothed and made his way downstairs.  "'M up. What's up?" He asked his dad.  "New neighbors. Mom wants you to go over there and bring them something. There's money on the counter. Go get them cookies and bring me beer home." His dad answered from his spot on the couch, watching tv.  "'M seven. How can I buy beer?" He asked his dad. And why are we being nice to the neighbors? "Figure it out!"  Daryl grabbed the money and walked out. He walked down the street and noticed the uhaul parked in the street in front of the blue house. The blue house was across the street and two houses down.  Walking to the store he bought the cookies and walked out. He managed to convince a homeless man to buy the beer if he gave him one and the change, which was five dollars. Walking home, he dropped off the beer and walked to the neighbors house.  He knocked on the door and waited. The door opened and on the other side was a little blonde girl. She had blue eyes and a pink dress on.  "Peyton! What did I say about opening the door without me there!" A voice echoed.  "Sorry daddy! There's a little boy!"  The door opened a little more and a older man stood there.  "Hi! What's up little man?" Peyton's dad answered. Daryl's body relaxed, which frightened him but made him feel safe. Something about the guy he trusted. He could always tell the good from the bad.  "Brought cookies." He held up the cookies. John grabbed them and opened the door wider for Daryl. " I'm John. Come inside." Daryl nodded and walked inside. Following them to the kitchen, she saw Peyton, another girl and a pregnant woman. "This is my wife, Cathy, inside her belly is baby Joseph, our daughter Aydin, and our little girl-"  Peyton walked over to Daryl.  "I'm Peyton! I'm five!" Daryl smiled at Peyton.  "Daryl. 'M seven."  "Good! Your near my age! Dad, mom, Aydin! Meet my new best friend Daryl!"  Everyone smiled and was laughing and Daryl knew he could get use to this.    Daryl woke up and looked around. He was in the guard tower in Alexandria. He knew no one needed to stand guard and be up here but he just needed to get away.  He couldn't believe he dreamed of Peyton. It's been so long. He thinks of her every day but he hasn't dreamt of her since they left the camp after Rick showed up.  And Rick. He really screwed it up. He knew he was in love with Rick, he did. He was in love once before, with Peyton but she passed away and he couldn't let his heart break again.  Hearing footsteps, he wiped the one tear that escaped and sat up.  "Daryl?" He heard Carol's voice.  "What?" He asked, irritated.  "Brought food." A bowl was sat on the ground as she climbed her way in. She grabbed it and handed it to Daryl. He looked at it and set it down. "Something wrong?" "Non' yer business." He whispered, watching the walkers, walk around aimlessly.  "Daryl, I know it's none of my business but your family and I'm here if you want to talk. I don't judge. It's time you understand that were here for you. We don't judge."  Daryl sighed. He knew he could trust Carol.  "When I was 7 I met a girl named Peyton. She was two years younger than me but she instantly made me her best friend. I loved her family, made me want to be in her family. A dad that cares, a mom that cooks, and a sibling that was there for you and not off buying and selling. Her older sister was awesome.  We were always there for each other. When my dad was beating me, she cleaned the cuts and don' tell no one. Her dad and younger brother died, her mom left and her sister got custody. I turned 18 i stayed at her house and worked on bikes and cars under the table to make money." "So that was you did before this." Carol intervened. She was happy she was the first to know. "Never had a real job. That's why I didn't answer."  "So what happened when this went down."  "When shit hit the fan, we got out together. Aydin, Merle, Peyton and I packed up and ran. Stopped by my dads but he was one of them, first walker I killed. Didn't regret it or feel bad." "I don't blame you." Carol whispered. His dad must of been that bad... "We found this shack-" "You and Peyton shacked up." She joked. She didn't think they did but was shocked with his answer.  "Shuddup. One to many moon shines. Merle and I went huntin' and when I came back, there was about ten or so around the shack. I called Peyton's name but they heard me. I didn' know they were attracted by sound. They surrounded me. I managed to get some but I saw Peyton and Aydin run out. I told them to run. 'Merle saved my ass and we ran after them but walkers covered there tracks. Never saw her again. Week later found you guys." "Maybe she is still out there." "She was different. Could remember anything and everything. Anything she read or saw or got told. She didn't come back. She would've came back if she wasn'..."  Daryl answered.   Carol and Daryl went silent in thought. "You loved her." Daryl looked at Carol like she was crazy. "You were in love with her." "She's dead. Just like Merle. Two people I loved, dead." "You can fall in love again." Carol said. "For awhile, I thought you were. You seemed to smile a lot more and laugh. Was it Beth? I won't judge." Daryl looked at Carol like he was offended. "Okay. Well is it me?"  No it was Rick. No wait, it is Rick... "Carol, I don' do love. Not in this world. Love gets you killed." Carol stayed silent.  "'M gonn' go. Aaron is waiting. Be back in a week or two." Daryl started climbing down the ladder and walked off.  He couldn't believe he just spilled his guts. He felt stupid. He did love Rick. He did but the last person he fell in love with, died. He hates getting attached to people because they all die.  "The guy I want to be with is cold hearted and 'doesn't do love'" Why get attached when everyone dies? Chapter End Notes Daryl's mom sends him over with cookies to keep up good looks with their house, something abusive households do. Next chapter is all about Carl! ***** C is for Caring ***** Chapter Summary Carl meets the claimers and someone else Chapter Notes So this chapter does have implied rape. Please skip the ending if it bothers you. I don't know the dates of the apocalypse but let's say it started 2 years ago when Carl was 12 idk so I just made up dates. I do need a beta or writing parter if someone is interested. The timeline does have me off a little. I saw from the time Carl was kidnapped to when he finds them is about 20 days, give or take. Enjoy See the end of the chapter for more notes Carl slept in the blue truck. After learning snares, seeing a guy die and walking all day, he was exhausted. He was still hungry but they only caught a small rabbit. He ignored the smell of dead inside but there wasn't a walker inside when they got there. "You screwed up asshole." He heard a dead voice followed by Michonne screaming. He sat up and saw his dad laying on the ground and Michonne getting knocked out. He scrambled to get his gun and get in the back seat. Hiding behind the passenger seat, the door opened not even two seconds later. "Didn't think we would notice you move?" A Mexican man with a bandana said. Carl pointed the gun and shot him, straight in the neck. Blood splattered everywhere. The guy dropped to the ground and Carl jumped out of the truck and noticed four guys around his dad and Michonne. He ran the opposite way of his dad but was stopped by a guy in a vest with a white beard. "I'm Joe." He smiled when Carl raised his gun. "I'm going to take a wild guess and say you are his son." He pointed to Rick's body, as two guys carried him to the trunk. "Let my dad go." Carl whispered harshly, gun pointed at Joe and cocked back. "Now you see boy. When we want something... We get it. We don't want them, we're not going to hurt them. Don't worry. The girl, maybe but she seems like to much trouble." Another man carried Michonne and placed her in the trunk. Carl kept it gun trained on Joe still. Joe held his hands up, surrendering. Carl felt another gun on his head. "He isn't going to shoot me, put the gun down Dan." The gun left his head but Carl kept the gun trained on Joe. "You have questions, I have answers." Joe explained. "What do you want?" Carl asked, afraid of the answer. "See at first we were just going to kill Rick because he killed one of ours. But then... We saw you." Carl gulped.He knew the moment he saw six guys he was screwed. Six against one. Then he took one out and tried to run, having a little hope. Now his heart sank to his stomach. What were they going to do? Kill him? Or worse... What's worse than killing him? He felt a pair of hands wrap around him from behind. The gun fell from his hands, it went off and the bullet landed in someone's ankle. Carl let out a laugh as the guy howled in pain but then Carl was lifted off his feet and slammed into the ground. He felt his cheek scrape against the ground. Carl felt two guys tie his wrists together. "Dad!" Carl screamed out, hoping his dad would wake up. He kept moving, trying to make it harder for the guys to tie him. "Let's go kid!" One guy said as another yelled, "Stop squirming!" "Dad! Wake up!" He cried in frustration. His dad was suppose to save him. "Dad! Save me!" They lifted him onto his feet. Joe walked over to him. "We always get what we want." Joe said, caressing Carl's bloody face. Placing a hand under Carl's shirt, Carl felt like he was going to throw up. He knew what they wanted. "We want you." Joe whispered in his ear. Carl let out a sob and one loud last scream. "DAD!" Before he saw Joe lift up the butt of his own gun and everything went black.   Carl woke up with a groan. His eyes felt heavy and took a moment to open but they adjusted quickly to the darkness. All the memories of Joe and his crew came floating back quickly as he sat up but regretted it when it came to the dizziness. He moved his hands but came in contact with something. Not something, someone. He stood up and felt his body. His cheek was stinging, he lifted a hand and felt scabs. He still had clothes, different pants though, and shoes on but his head was wrapped. He felt the wrap and it was bloody. Someone wrapped his head wound. He looked at the someone. It was a woman, probably about 23. She was sleeping against the wall. She was sitting on a mattress. Carl pulled his blue jacket closer to his body as he felt a cold breeze flow through the room. Feeling around he saw a door, opening it, a toilet only sat in there. The room smelt like gasoline and sweat. Raising a eyebrow, Carl found another door. He tripped on a hose but kept walking to the door and tried opening it. "Locked." He jumped at the soft voice. He turned around and walked over to her. "Where are we? Who are you? Why am I here?!" He sounded scared and frustrated but he didn't care. He wanted to be with his dad and Michonne. "We are in a warehouse somewhere. My name is Peyton. Ive been taking care of you. Also, they take people. They find you and take you." She said in a dead voice as she stood up, he took a few steps back so she stopped too. "What are they going to do to me?” Carl looked down at his pants. "Why am I wearing different pants?!" He panicked. "You pissed your pants so I changed them and washed your pants." She said, pointing to the pants that were hanging over a pipe. He already looked her over. Split lip, black eye, arms covered in cuts and bite marks. She stepped into the light. She had blonde hair, wrapped in a bun on her head. Her eyes were bright green. She was as skinny as Michonne but her boobs were bigger and she wasn't as tall, only a few inches taller than him. His breathing stopped and he choked back a sob. She stood up and walked over to him. He took a step back. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm in the same position as you. We're going to get out of here." He nodded and let her hug him. He didn't know her but he knew he needed to be reassured. Where is his dad? Is he here? Are they safe? Dead? Looking for him? Will they save him before Joe came? He knew what they will do to him. He isn't stupid. He heard people talking about it back at the prison. Some of the ladies from Woodbury talking about their past stories. He just doesn't want it to happen. "Let's sit down. You been knocked out for two days. Here's some water." She handed him a glass of water. His eyes widened as he grabbed the glass. "Two days?!" She nodded and he let her sit him down on a ratty mattress he didn't even notice he was on earlier. He sipped it slowly, nauseous from the head wound. "Am I the only one here?" She nodded. He let a tear fall down his cheek. "What's your name?" She asked him. "Carl." "Age?" "I really don't know. Fourteen, maybe fifteen?" He really didn't know. "Birthday?" "Why does that matter?" He asked her. She looked at him with a brow furrowed. "June 9, 2001." He answered. "Fourteen." She answered him. He looked at her. "Don't ask. Today's date is June 12, 2015. Makes your fourteen. Happy late birthday?" She said with a small smile. He couldn't help but laugh. "I need to get out of here. My dad and Michonne are looking for me. They were heading to terminus. I was with them! They knocked them out. I need to help them, if they are still knocked out, walkers could get them!" He panicked, standing up. "Walkers?" She asked. "The dead alive people. We call them walkers." She nodded understanding. "We will get out of here. I promise." They settled down, taking off his shoes and he laid his head on Peyton's lap and he felt her hands run through his hair and soon he found himself asleep. When he was awoken, it wasn't pleasant. A hand was dragging him up by his arm and he felt himself against a cold hard body. "Hello little Grimes." He heard Joe say. "Let him go!" He heard Peyton yell. He saw two guys hold her back as she fought to save him. She punched one of them and Joe slapped her, hard, causing her to fall to the ground. "You had your turn. It's his turn." Her eyes widened. His turn for what? His eyes widened. No! "No! No!" He fought. "You will be back soon, little Grimes." He felt himself dragged backwards, out the door. "NO! LET HIM GO! You can't have him! No! I'm sorry!" He heard Peyton yell. He saw the door close as the two guys came out. Peyton was pounding on the door. "I'm sorry.” He knew she felt bad for letting them get him. "Not your fault." He whispered. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry." He felt himself hit the mattress, clothes ripped off and pain. His mind went blank but the words just kept repeating in his mind. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." Not your fault… Chapter End Notes So Carl felt calm around Peyton be cuz she is a mom and stuff and right now he has no choice cuz he's scared. Review please. Just remember this is un beta'd ***** D for Danger ***** Chapter Summary Peyton and Carl escape Chapter Notes Warning: This chapter has mentions of injury and rape and smoking, thank you LovelyButterfly for helping me with this chapter and every other one you help me with. See the end of the chapter for more notes       Peyton felt herself hit the door one last time before pulling herself together and standing up. She looked around the room, this room she was pitifully trapped in like a caged animal, before walking towards the ratty mattress in the corner near the bathroom. She glanced at the pillow before snatching it up and sending it flying. She didn't know if it would help, but she had to do something other than just stand here and wait. There was this gnawing feeling of hopelessness and helpless that stirred deep in her stomach and it was unsettling. Nauseating. The sound of the pillow smacking into one of Carl's shoes and knocking it over is what caught her attention for a brief moment. It was only after looking up after the sound of the shoe being knocked over did she see that something had fallen out of it. Walking over to it, she gasped.   A pocketknife.  Did he forget about it? She picked it up, turning the small weapon over in her fingers before placing it in a pillowcase. There was nothing she could do, not even with this weapons, and that killed her inside. How helpless do you have to be to be in possession of a knife and not even be able to help someone in need?  She had to get him out of here. She had too, there were no alternatives. So, with a reluctantly sigh, she dropped down onto the mattress. Laying her head back, she closed her eyes and fell into a restless sleep- one filled with dreams of the dead and the living, and made monsters of both.  Night. Day. Night and then day again. Two days she had to wait for them to return Carl. With each second that passed, she died a bit more. It was like her insides were made of glass, dirty and chipped and smoothed by tumbling seawater, but everyday more and more of her was broken away and turned into dust. She spent most of her time, when she wasn't crying, planning. She just couldn't think of anything but him, and getting him out of this. Her own safety was of little concern at this point, and isn't that the way it always goes? Suddenly there's something more important than herself worth fighting for, and fight she would do.  All the while there were thoughts she just couldn't seem to get out of her head. What were they doing? Will he ever get over this? Was his dad and this Michonne girl looking for him? When will they get here? If they get here at all. That was the grim reality of the situation, and one she didn't think she was ready to face. "Who am I kidding, this place is like a needle in hay stack." She whispered, though it almost sounded like a snap in her own ears. In the quiet of the room, someone could hear a pin drop.  How bad will Carl be when he gets here? He is alive? Is Rick even alive!? "They always keep us alive. Not many people or kids to pick from," She answered herself. "Great. I hit the train to crazy town. Talking and answering myself." If the situation wasn't so dire, if the situation wasn't so consuming, maybe she could've found it within herself to laugh. She didn't, and she couldn't even if she wanted to.  It seemed like forever before the door opened again. Carl was thrown in, unconscious. Peyton couldn't contain her gasp as she jumped up and rushed over to him. He looked so small like this- so fragile. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how young people were in this world. How young he was. She knelt, gathering Carl up in her arms as best as she could manage and ran her fingers through his hair. "Carl..." She whispered. "Carl, wake up."  She paused, thinking for a second. But why would I want to wake him up? The harsh reality was so unwelcoming compared to the soft darkness he must be floating in now.  "I'm so sorry. I got you," She whispered to him, her fingers still carding through his hair.  He was bloody; it had soaked through his clothes in places and left behind dark red patches on the fabric. He was bruised, and she's sure not just on his face, which is what she could see. He was broken. Horribly and mercilessly broken. At least they dressed him, at least they gave him that. It hardly mattered in the long run though; he had already been violated beyond the point of modesty. Shaking as Peyton was, with fear and the natural adrenaline running through her body, she fumbled to get a firm but gentle grip on the boy and drag him over to the mattress. The mattress she's spent these last two days crying on. Worrying on. Thinking on.  As reluctant as she was to leave him, she still peeled herself away from him body and ran to the hose to fill up a bucket. Honestly, she was surprised she was as put together as she was, but of course that wasn't saying much. She had to bite back tears as she dragged the bucket over. Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, she grasped the sheet and went on to gently wipe his bloody face down. She was careful going over an obviously bruised nose, and around his now black eye. She washed the cuts and bite marks on his arms and neck as thoroughly as she could. It was like she was trying to erase the evidence of what happened, but some things just can't be erased.  His head wound also opened back up, she noted grimly. She patched him up the best she could, but she couldn't be a hundred percent confident in her abilities. She wasn't a nurse, just a mom. Moms fix scraped knees and paper cuts and bloody noses. They don't fix...this. She waited for him to awaken before she could do anything more. She didn't want to ripe him of anymore privacy that he already had snatched away. Quietly sobbing to herself, she just held him while he slept.  The next morning, he finally came too. She felt him jump, scaring her awake. She didn't say anything at first, mostly because she was at a loss of what to say -what does one say in a moment like this- so she let him look around, her arms still half encircling him. It was the sound of sniffling that broke her heart in two.  "Carl?" He looked at her with big blue eyes before he broke down and cried. "I'm sorry." She whispered as she held him.  "Not your fault" He whispered, his throat raw and raspy sounding. And Peyton could feel it in her bones that he meant what he said. It was rare to find a person, especially in this world, that wouldn't shove off blame when they could.   "We're getting out of here. I promise," She didn't mean to sigh, really, but her words came out in a whoosh of air before she could stop it. She was exhausted, more so emotionally and mentally than she was physically.   "When?"  "As soon as we come up with a plan," She held up his pocketknife that had fallen out of his shoe earlier.  "My pocketknife. I forgot about it." He whispered. She knew he was beating himself up, thinking he should of remembered. He looked down, wiping his tears.  "You had another things on your mind. We will get out of here soon," She paused. "When you can run. We can give it a couple days. They aren't going to come back for a few days anyways." He nodded.  "There is a hose over there. I'll close my eyes but rinse yourself down. You don't want to run around with dried blood-" and other things. She left it unsaid, there wasn't a need to speak about it out loud. Carl already had every second of it etched into his memory. And she understood that, she didn't need to remind him of it.  She laid face down on the mattress as he undressed himself and rinsed himself down. After much hissing, sobbing and groaning, he turned the hose off and put his other pants on, the ones Peyton washed.  "Can you... patch this up?" He asked. She turned around and sat up. It took her a moment to notice the difference in what he was wearing, but he had discarded the lighter pants she had put on him before and had slipped back into his own pants. It probably made him feel more comfortable.  She pushed herself from the mattress and walked over to where Carl was standing. Down his side there was a long slit in his skin, running from his armpit to his waist. Instantly, her stomach turned and she felt a bit lightheaded, but she shook the feeling away. It was Carl with the wound down his side, not her. It was Carl that endured horrific things for the past two days, not her. She had her turn already, and now it was his. Reality was cruel, cold slap in the face, wasn't it?  "I'll try my best. When we get out of here, we will go Bonnie and Clyde and rob a pharmacy or superstore. I'll have to sew it up because it's deep." He nodded as she ripped up a sheet, then tied it around his chest the best she could. She ignored the bite marks. If she focused on them too long, the rage and suffocating helplessness would come back. She didn't want it back, and right now she needed to be in the best frame of mind for Carl. She was useless if she couldn't think straight. Once she was done with patching him up to the best of her abilities, Carl tugged his shirt back on and laid down on the mattress, the best he could with his wounds. "Who is Bonnie and Clyde?" He asked quietly. She chuckled. It was understandable that the kid didn't get the reference. It wasn't exactly from his generation. Peyton didn't always consider herself one for stories, especially not telling them, but it was a distraction they both needed. "Well..."   _________________________________     The next six days the Claimers only slipped food through a mail slot that she knew they made before she came here. No auto shop had mail slots in doors. She and Carl still hadn't come up with a plan, he barely talked at all, and it was only a matter of time before the Claimers came for one of them.  As if on cue, the door opened and Dan, she knew him as 'The Ogre', came in. She placed Carl behind her and looked at him. It definitely wasn't a pleasant sight. "What do you want?" She asked him though she already knew the answer. "Him." The Orge grinned. Oh hell no. "No. He's hurt. You aren't taking him." She growled. Only over my dead body. No , not even then. "You don't really have a choice, now do you?" Peyton glared at him, then took a breath. "Take me. I won't resist." She breathed, the words feeling foreign and not her own in her mouth. She could feel Carl's gaze boring into her, questioning. She tried to make her nod as slight as possible, to tell Carl that it was okay, but she can't be sure he saw it. She didn't want to take her eyes off of Dan for that long.   It seemed like forever before the silence hanging heavy in the room was broken again. "Let's go," Dan finally gave in. When he turned around, Peyton quickly looked at Carl with a silent message. This is it. Carl looked back and nodded. She walked over to Dan and went with him, out the room, heart racing faster than she ever recalled it doing before.   Leaving the room, she already knew this was it. Walking down the hallway confirmed her idea even more. It was now or never. The plan was in motion, even if it wasn't planned. It goes down now. This ends now, or it ends never.  She memorized the way they went and the door opened. She didn't have time to breathe before he tossed her on a bed, and maybe for once she went down without fighting. He stood and worked on his pants. She quickly opened the pocketknife and slipped the pocketknife into her long sleeve shirt. How could he not hear her heart beating? It was like a freight train in her skull, pounding away at her temples, roaring like an animal trying to be released. Her blood felt hot in her veins, she could feel her pulse everywhere. It ends now or it ends never. She thought to herself.  He laid down on top of her as gracefully as he could, but he was a big man and it wasn't an easy task. Objectively speaking, at least that meant there was more mass for her to stab. At this point she had gotten used to the slimy, degrading feel of their hands on her, so when Dan worked one of his hands up under her shirt, she pushed it out of her mind. It ends now.   Or it ends never.   When she finally surged upwards, it was like she was watching someone else do it rather than herself. For a moment, her body was acting on pure instinct and pure adrenaline. Her conscious wasn't there, and it didn't return until she heard the crunch of the pocketknife sinking into Dan's skull, and scarlet streams began to flow out of the wound and down the blade and to the hilt of the pocket knife. She felt the warmth of it spreading onto her hand, and that was when she released the blade.  There was no time for hesitation, so she shoved Dan off of her, took one look into his glassy eyes, before scrambling off the bed to where he'd taken off his pants earlier. She grabbed the keys from his pants and a gun along with them. She ran to the door and opened it, peeking her head out. She was sure her heart would burt any moment now.  She almost didn't trust her memorization of the path they took. The walk back seemed longer even though she was walking faster, in wide, broad steps. It felt like ages before she spotted the door that held Carl behind it again. She gripped the keys in her sweaty palm as she shakily undid the lock.  Carl was crouched in the corner of the room, looking like something akin to a frightened animal. There was panic in his fear-blown pupils, and it didn't take a genius to figure out he had some sort of meltdown or panic attack.  "Are you okay?" She closed the door and hurried over to him. He trembled when he forced himself into her arms, hot, fat tears already dripping down his freckled cheeks.  "Shh, Carl. We've got to go." He nodded, and if she wasn't convinced before that he was the strongest person she knew, she was now.  They heard footsteps coming down the hall, outside the door. Peyton grabbed the pocketknife and hid behind the door, motioning to Carl to keep quiet. The boy gave a slight nod back as he finished tying his last shoe. The door opened and Peyton jumped on the man's back, one hand fumbling to cover his mouth and keep him quiet. The hand holding the pocket knife jerked upwards, and she seated the blade in the base of the man's skull.  The body dropped, and Peyton yanked the knife free of the Claimer's skull. It was covered in blood and bits of skull and grey brain matter. She wiped it off on the sleeve of her shirt as  Carl ran over and patted the dead man down, retrieving the guns and knives he had on him.. He handed Peyton one of the guns so now she had two to defend them with, and he kept one for himself.  "Head shots. No chances." She said grimly, staring down at the glossy black weapon in her hand. Carl nodded "No mercy." There was a momentary pause in the room before the sound of more footsteps outside of the room sounded. "Someone is coming." Peyton readied her gun, her hands surprisingly steady. For an unplanned plan, things were going quite well.  "Dan, what is going..." He stopped mid sentence when he saw Peyton with a gun.    Bang .   The man teetered backwards and crashing into the ground with a bullet lodged firmly between his eyes. Head shots. No chances. No mercy.  "Good shot," Carl complimented. "Two more."  "Let's go."  "What is going on!?"  They heard a voice from another Claimer cry.   Bang.   Carl shot that one, back of the head. He noticed the wrapped ankle and smiled. "I shot that one before."  Looking around, he didn't see Joe anywhere. "Where is Joe?!" Carl tried to contain his panic, his fear, but he's sure he didn't succeed. Peyton looked around.  "I don't know but we don't have time to worry about it. We got to go. Pack anything you can. I see weapons over there. Keep watch while I grab weapons, then you keep watch." She told him.  They walked over to a table, she found her hunting knife and gun. Grabbing a leg holster, she placed one gun on her leg and another in her waistline on here back and another in a holster on her hip. She felt like a damn walking arsenal. Never knowing when something could be helpful, she also grabbed the sewing kit and pack of cigarettes left on the table. Turning around she watched each door while Carl moved closer to the table.  He grabbed his leg holster and a knife. He grabbed two backpacks and filled them up with a first aid kit, guns, a couple grenades, and ammunition. He also found water bottles and stale chips and canned food. After they packed up, they opened the door and worked together to haul a dead guy out there. The Walkers were thoroughly attracted to the easy meal, and Peyton and Carl hurried out the door and around them. It hardly seemed real to just be out, yet they were. They moved quickly through the forest and down two streets, avoiding the occasional cluster or stray Walker. It would just waste time to put the horrible creatures out of their misery. They moved until the found a relatively open area, and assumed it was safe to take a break, just for a little bit. Carl shrugged his backpack off his back and rummaged around until he could grab one of the water bottles and pass it to Peyton.  "What did you find?" She asked him after chugging half the bottle. She closed the water bottle before grabbing the pack of cigerettes she found. She light one before breathing out a sigh of relief. "Grenades, silencers, first aid kit, food and water." He told her. Overall it wasn't a bad find at all.  "Oh, dibs on a silencer." She told him, a small smile teasing the corners of her mouth. He handed one over and she placed it on her gun, momentarily admiring the new length of it. "Ok, we good to go?" She asked, putting out her half smoked cigarette. He nodded and placed his backpack back on his back.   ______________________   It was a couple hours later that Carl found the train tracks. During that time, he talked about his childhood and how his dad got shot and how he thought his dad was dead till he showed up at his camp, and little things that happened here and there. He even told her about Shane. She smiled through out every story because it was good to see him open up more. Once they reached the tracks, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and they turned to follow along it. It was odd to see the sign lined up so perfectly along the tracks, but when she did she didn't hesitate to turn to Carl.  "This Terminus?" She asked and got a nod of confirmation. "Okay. Need to make a pit stop, but we will get there. Let's go."  They traveled along in silence for quite some time, the only sound was the sound of their shoes on the gravel between the metal train tracks. Sometimes Carl would balance precariously on the thin rail, though he never fell off. Finally, it was Peyton who broke the silence. "Hey. You like chocolate?" She asked. "I found a chocolate bar. There's a condition though." He raised an eyebrow as she pulled the sewing kit she snagged from the table out of her pocket.  He let out a rough sigh as he nodded, knowing she had to sew up his side. If she didn't sew him up, it would only get worse. It wouldn't be worse than when he was shot. It seems like forever ago that that happened, a different lifetime even. He wasn't that same person anymore. Nobody was.  Peyton handed him the candy bar and kept walking, "When we get a chance to stop, we will."  They don't know how long they walked for, stopping to piss or drink water or kill Walkers when they needed to. They talked about Judith and Carl's mom. Peyton talked about how she just lost her sister, Aydin, and showed him her bracelet. Making their way down some tracks, Peyton told Carl about how she was taken. "I found this little boy a few months ago. Took him in as my own. We found this old farm house, like a little grove. Well I was outside and he was inside playing with my one year old son." She began and Carl raised another eyebrow.  "I was picking a few pecans when I heard 'claimed!' And then darkness. I don't know if they are still there or if they're alive, but the house is this way."  He nodded and they walked over to the house Peyton was talking about. They grabbed pecans as they walked, and for a minute it was okay. For a minute, it was just them, and now, and a handful of pecans. That was until Peyton saw the two little graves, and her body stopped functioning for a second. Her fist loosened and the pecans she was holding tumbled to the ground. Was it possible for the world to stop spinning? Even for a moment? Because Peyton could swear up and down that it did in that moment.  She didn't mean to run over to the graves, not with her legs shaking like how they were now, but she did, and when she reached the edge of them, she crumpled to the ground. She didn't care if her knees sunk into the muddy ground a bit, or if tears were flooding over the corners of her eyes despite her furious rubbing to keep them at bay.  "They killed them. They had to of. They came back and killed my babies." Her voice was hollow. Carl can't help but remember what his mother sounded like when Shane told her that his dad had died. It as hollow and lifeless, because she was feeling so much emotion inside that her voice was void of it. Of course Carl knew that she one had one biological son, but she loved both of them equally.  Carl didn't even hesitate before following her to the graves and wrapping his arms around her in the best hug he could manage, "I'm so sorry." Nodding and wiping at her eyes, she stood up and moved to bang on the door. Not hearing anything, she walked in, gun raised and cocked, bullet already loaded in the chamber. They cleared the house, going from room to room to make sure that no Walkers had gotten in and that there were no people too. People were more dangerous than the dead, after all, because they chose their malicious acts. Peyton couldn't help but sob when they had finished clearing the house, but it didn't take her long to compose herself. Carl needed her to be strong.   After sewing up Carl's side, Peyton walked to the table to crack pecans. Carl took a moment to check out the living room. Seeing something catch his eye, he walked over to a crib, his fingers brushing along the wood frame of it before he bent down to grab something inside of it. A stuffed bunny.  "Judith...?" Peyton raised her head from the pecan she was cracking at the sound of his voice. "This was Judith's bunny... I think. I mean, but she was eaten." "There is more than one stuffed bunny in the world." She reminded softly, sniffling. She cringed as saw him flinch. "Carl..." She started to apologize but he just shook his head.  He placed the bunny in his backpack.   "We will stay here tonight, then tomorrow go to Terminus." Peyton said with finality, though she looked at Carl, to wait for his nod. It took a few seconds, but eventually she got it.    Tomorrow           Chapter End Notes sorry it seems so spaced out between sentences but I cant seem to figure out posting chapters and it takes about a hour to unspace it all so I will come back and fix it. End Notes Hope you liked it! I was thinking of doing one shots based off the story so if you want to see anything happen, let me know. thank you Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!