A look at Carol after the events of the finale, leading up to her reuniting with Daryl. This is more just a character piece of writing, not an action piece. Done for a challenge on another site (Nine Lives!). Posting here as well because why not.

Thanks to Jen for all her help.

I don't own anything related to The Walking Dead.

She was warm, comfortably so. The kind of warmth that makes you feel safe and at peace, it was nice. She could hear a soft dinging somewhere deep in her mind that had her caught in a trance, hypnotized by the monotonous sound, beep...beep...beep. It called to her, the cadence pulling her from the dark silence. She shifted slightly and pain seared through her leg causing her to let out a low moan.

"It's alright," a soft voice whispered to her, warm breath blowing against her ear. "You need to take it slow, the nurse has given you something to help with the pain."

Her eyes blinked, opening slowly, squinting against the harshness of the bright lights that assaulted her. Her vision was slightly blurry, as if she had just awoke from a long nap. She focused in on the figure sitting next to her. Blond hair, petite, a woman - no, a child. Her heart constricted. Had she died? Had she made it to heaven? Sophia. Her vision grew clearer, brown eyes, no freckles - not Sophia. She closed her eyes tightly as disappointment washed over her. This wasn't Heaven, if it was God had a cruel sense of humour, perhaps that was true anyhow.

She felt the young girl put a cold cloth against her brow, a heaviness engulfing her entire body, slumber once again pulling her into its depths.

Before she was completely enveloped she heard, "It was good to see you awake . Everything's going to be just fine now."

The next time she woke, cruel reality was staring her in the face.

"Good morning," Morgan smiled.

She grunted out something that was reminiscent of a reply, misery etched in every syllable. Every inch of her felt like it was on fire. She could ignore the pain that encompassed every bone, every muscle, but the agony that surrounded her heart could not be as easily pushed aside. She was alive, that much she could tell. She had been ready to die there on the road. Ready to face whatever fate would be cast upon her. Praying, perhaps foolishly, that she would be reunited with her baby girl. Hoping that her decision to stop killing would win her some favour with God. She wanted desperately to see her sweet Sophia's face once more. That was not to be, it seemed like she was forever stuck in this hell on earth, her eternal punishment, her damnation for the sins she had committed. Now, she had no idea where the hell she was and she was stuck with the one man in the world that had the amazing ability to irritate her in a thousand different ways.

"You're looking well," he mused, his eyes busy looking her over, "Colour's back in your cheeks - that's real good. Linda just gave you a dose of morphine. The pain should subside in a few minutes."

She let out a low growl, "I don't want that!" Wasting precious resources on her was stupid. She didn't need it, hell, Ed had left her worse off on more than one occasion over the years. She had survived without morphine then, this was no different. Plus, she needed a clear head, needed to figure out what exactly Morgan had dragged them into. The man could not be trusted when it came to his opinion about others.

"Now's not the time to get into all that," Morgan replied to her outburst, his tone gentle and patient, making her want to scream. She bit her lip, not wanting to make a scene in front of the woman busily writing on a piece of paper, who she assumed was Linda. She couldn't afford to give any part of herself away in front of a stranger. In the wrong hands, that information could get you killed or worse - get the people you loved killed.

She took the opportunity to study Morgan as he quietly chatted with the woman. He seemed lighter, happier. Almost like he had a sense of purpose again. She swallowed back the envy that rose in her throat. There could be none of that. She had made her decision back in Alexandria, she had hated what she had become and the purpose she had served. She could no longer infect her family with the monster that had blossomed inside of her. She didn't plan on staying around this place either. Whether these people were friends or enemies, it didn't matter, both were a liability. She would leave before she could inflict her demons on these people.

She looked around at her surroundings. The room was set up like a typical hospital room, a single bed, a couple chairs, a heart monitor, IV - very reminiscent of Grady, the thought sending a chill up her spine. It wasn't a hospital though. She could make out small ledges against a couple of the walls and what looked like old chalkboards which had been haphazardly covered with some old white sheets. A school perhaps?

She closed her eyes, trying to recall anything she could about being brought here. Vague images of horses, and of waking up on the ground and watching grown men in armour chasing pigs were the only things she could conjure. Her brow furrowed, she must have been hallucinating. God, she was so damn tired.

Hearing the shuffle of a chair growing closer, she opened one of her eyes to see Morgan settling down beside her, his hands folded in front of him, his arms resting on his legs as he leaned towards her.

"You've made good progress, you'll be up and walking real soon."

She said nothing. If he knew her like he claimed he did, then he would know that she was out of here as soon as she could walk.

As if reading her thoughts, his voice grew more intense, "These people Carol - they're good. They got something worthwhile going on here. I really think this place could be good for us."

Her eyes flew open, glaring at him, annoyed. "I'm not staying,"

"I won't let you die out there."

"The choice isn't yours to make."

Their eyes locked, fighting a battle that had been ongoing for weeks. One that neither one of them were willing to back down from. Kill. Don't kill. Leave. Don't leave. Die. Don't die. A never ending cycle of disagreements.

Morgan gave his head a shake, breaking eye contact with her, "You need rest. I'll be back tomorrow to show you around."

She was too exhausted to argue, her eyes already losing the struggle to stay open. The last thing she saw before falling back into darkness was Morgan watching over her, worry lines etched across his brow.

Morgan, true to his word, showed up the next morning, wielding a wheelchair to usher her around in. She eyed it stubbornly, torn between wanting to investigate this place and not wanting to depend on Morgan for anything. Her curiosity won out. He pushed her down a couple of hallways, high ceilings, marbled floors, lockers lined along the walls, confirming her suspicion that they were indeed holed up in an old school.

Along the way they passed a few people. Mostly men, she noted, some of them dressed in armour, like the visions from her memory. One young man, nodded as she and Morgan passed, Ma'am, he greeted. The formality, along with how her bones ached, made her feel like she was 100 years old.

She knew she had seen the man before though, prompting the question of the vision she couldn't quite shake. "Were you chasing pigs?"

She heard Morgan groan behind her, "A very long story, best left for another time."

Her eyebrow raised, her vague recollections seemed to stem from truth. She stored the information away to inquire about at a later time.

They walked through a set of double doors into the bright sunshine. She squinted her eyes against the intense light. Linda had informed her that she had been out for several days. Her eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, to being only in doors. It took her a moment to adjust. When her vision was finally clear, she took in her surroundings. There were rows and rows of planted food in wooden boxes that had been made into gardens. It was quite impressive. People were everywhere. Walking around, tending to the fruits and vegetables that were growing. She noticed that the lack of women and children in the hallways hadn't meant there were none, they all seemed to be outside. The entire setup reminded her of the prison, but on a grander scale and her heart ached.

"Everyone has a job. The produce they yield is enough to feed them all, plus the Sanctuary," Morgan explained.

"The Sanctuary?"

He cleared his throat, "Again, a topic for-"

"Another time." She finished for him, rolling her eyes at his antics, irritation rising to the surface.

Seeming to sense her ire, he paused, bringing her chair to a complete stop, "There is a lot to tell but I want to show you what they have accomplished,". He said, his voice rising with passion. "They are extraordinary at taking the little they have and turning into so much more."

She didn't say anything, knowing full well that this was typical Morgan. He always focused on things he perceived were beneficial and good and he never gave enough thought to the negative and the consequences that sprung from that. To her, that was one of his greatest weaknesses and it was that weakness that put people in danger. It was just something she could not condone.

They began their journey once again, slowly walking through the plants. There were tents everywhere, set up in small communities. She reasoned that it must have been where everyone slept. It was hard for her to make out how secure this place was. She could see a wire fence in the distance that she assumed must surround the entire school lot. And beyond that it looked like a wall of trucks, maybe school buses. It was something she would have to explore more so she could figure out how the hell she could get out.

Many people would stop what they were doing as she and Morgan passed to offer a smile or a hello. She fidgeted in her seat, uncomfortable, attempting to pay the various folks no attention. Morgan was the complete opposite, greeting everyone, some even by name. She had seen this before, these people, they were just like the people from Woodbury and those from Alexandria. They were exactly like she used to be. No idea how to fight, how to protect themselves, probably most of them having no real clue of the horrors that waited for them outside of their makeshift community. It made her feel sick to her stomach. She didn't want to do this again. She just couldn't.

A small girl caught her eye and shyly waved her hand. Her breath caught in her throat and she averted her gaze, blinking her eyes before any tears could threaten. She needed to get away from there.

"The sun's bright," she muttered. "It's giving me a headache. Take me back inside."

Morgan hummed in acknowledgement, "It's time for our meeting anyhow," he told her, turning the wheelchair back towards the school.

"Meeting? Who with?" She tilted her head back so she could see his face.

"The man in charge," he said, wearing a small grin. He looked like a cat who had just caught the canary and it made her feel uneasy.

She slumped down in the chair, realizing that she really had no choice in the matter. Better to get it over with. It was hard to know how she should play this meeting. She was tired and she hurt all over, it made it harder to think things through. Being weak and an invalid seemed like a pretty strong way to go about this.

Morgan wheeled her down into a theatre, or an auditorium of some sort, kicking down the brake before disappearing through a side door beside a stage.

She tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair, the silence making her fidgety. She couldn't shake the feeling that something strange was going on. What was with all the theatrics?

Her eye caught some movement at the back of the stage and she straightened up out of habit. She could make out a shadow on the wall but it seemed quite low to the ground. Her brow furrowed in puzzlement.

A large black and orange paw broke through the darkness and she couldn't hold back her gasp as a huge tiger walked further onto the stage. The creature was beautiful. Big and strong, strutting majestically across the platform. Her hands tightened around the arms of the wheelchair, her heart skyrocketing. There was no use, she was unable to run, hell, she couldn't even walk. She was essentially trapped. Of all the ways to die in this world, going out, being mauled to death by a tiger, hadn't even crossed her mind.

To her surprise, the animal sat down beside a chair in the middle of the stage she hadn't even noticed. She jumped slightly when she noticed a man standing tall next to the beast. His skin dark and smooth, his dreads almost completely white. An air of confidence surrounded him, it was absolutely captivating.

He gently caressed the tiger and sat in the chair which could only really be described as a throne. She could not tear her eyes away from the entire scene, dumbfounded by what she was witnessing

The tiger stood taller and opened its mouth letting out a sound that was ear shattering causing her to jump in surprised terror.

The man once again placed his hand on the tiger's head, bowing his head to her in greeting.

"I am King Ezekiel," he crooned, "Welcome to the Kingdom."

She stared at him, her eyes wide in disbelief. Surely this wasn't happening, it was just too bizarre, which said a lot in a world where the dead came back to life.

Overwhelmed, she did the only thing she could. She threw her head back and laughed. She laughed until tears fell down her cheeks, a high shrill sound escaping from her that had her sounding insane.

"Carol?" Morgan stood in the shadows, his voice laced with concern, which only caused her to laugh again. Of course he had aligned himself with a madman with a tiger.

She shook her head, quieting, her sense of amused disbelief still hanging on, "I don't know what the hell's going on - in the most wonderful way."

She turned to address Morgan, "Surely this is a joke or you have truly lost your mind."

Morgan didn't have a chance to answer before a deep, smooth voice floated down from the front of the auditorium, "I can assure you this is no joke." He grinned, his eyes sparkling even from a distance. "And I'm sure we have all lost our minds at one time or another, Morgan would be in good company," he mused.

She regarded the man who spoke, a man who had just self claimed himself as king. She raised an eyebrow, every one of her false pretenses forgotten in this bizarre turn of events. "A tiger? Really?"

"Ah," he smiled, "Shiva is so much more than a tiger." He stroked the cat's cheek, "Plus, I like to do things in style," his grin widened, amusement danced in his eyes.

"Morgan has told me much about you Ms. Peletier," he said.

She sobered at that, her shoulders stiffening, "Has he now."

"He has, and yet you still remain a mystery." Ezekiel stood, muttering 'stay' to the wild beast before descending the stairs and walking towards her. "But now," he continued, "is not the time for my prying. This was merely a time to introduce myself, to introduce Shiva - and welcome you to the Kingdom." He stopped in front of her, "You may stay here as long as you like."

"I won't be staying." Her response was automatic. Looking at this man she knew instinctively that he was someone who would not fall for any of her games. A man who, even in his bizarre ways, still valued honesty in this world that was full of lies.

He nodded his head. "The choice is yours of course, but you need a place to rest until you are well. Our home is yours for however long you need it."

She nodded her head in acknowledgement of his words and averted her gaze. He had this quiet intensity about him and even in this short time she could tell he oozed charisma and power even through his zany antics. He was an enigma. It both intrigued and unnerved her. He was either a very effective leader or one very dangerous man. It didn't matter though, she didn't plan on sticking around to find out.

The sun was hot against her skin and it felt wonderful, she closed her eyes and tilted her head upwards basking in the warmth so reminiscent of the Georgia weather she never thought she'd miss. When the world goes to hell, it really is surprising what you end up missing.

She was sitting outside on an overturned wooden crate peeling potatoes for the evening meal. She was finally back walking and she was in constant frustration over how slowly her body was healing. During that time she had done her best to avoid the people of this community, Ezekiel and his tiger and most of all Morgan and his need to try and reach her.

She could almost feel herself being pulled in by the kindness of the people here. Almost caught herself smiling at the woman who waters the tomatoes every morning, almost offering her opinion on their new line of defense that they discussed at their weekly meeting, almost petting that damn tiger that Ezekiel parades around with like a maniac. She might not have been completely healed but she knew that her time to leave had officially come. Ezekiel had said she was free to go When they had first met but had deemed her still not well enough just that morning and Morgan was constantly hovering, watching her every move. Sneaking out was her only chance and tonight was the night.

For the last week, she had investigated every aspect of the Kingdom. Where every guard was located, what time everyone switched duties, times where the gate was left unoccupied. She had mapped every room, looked for every hiding spot and every weakness. This place was well guarded and escaping would be difficult, but it wasn't impossible. The hardest obstacle she'd have to face would be the gate. There was only one gate to enter or exit The Kingdom and much to her dismay it couldn't be opened by one single person on their own. She did however note that every morning around 5 am, one crew would leave and another arrive at the same time. It often got chaotic. Her plan was to escape in all the excitement.

She heard a motor rev in the distance and her heart jumped to her throat and then immediately crushed under the weight of disappointment. It wasn't a motorcycle. It wasn't Daryl. She closed her eyes tightly, mentally chiding herself. It was she who had walked away knowing full well she would never see her family again, never see him again. She still believed it was better this way, that they were better off without her there poisoning them with what she'd become. It would have only gotten worse if she had stayed because with the world the way it was she would be forced to kill to protect them. Protecting them was always her priority. If she stayed it wouldn't take long for her to transform into something completely unrecognizable, it was hard even now for her to separate the true pieces of herself from the savage that lived within her. What was true? What was fake? She truly didn't know anymore. There had been no hesitation when she had shot 'Chelle to protect Maggie when they had been taken a few weeks back. Her heart ached knowing that she would never get to meet Maggie and Glenn's child, never get to witness them be the incredible parents she knew they would be. It was better this way.

Her thoughts turned once again to Daryl. The image of him throwing back the tiny bottle of Jack, guilt pouring out of every part of him when they had been digging Denise's grave. She had never met anyone with a heart like his, loyal, and protective, and pure. When he felt like he had let someone down, he carried that with him, and always worked overtime to make it right. He wouldn't rest until he made it right with Denise, with Tara, that she knew. She had tried to be there for him on that last day, she had wanted so desperately to reach out to him, reassure him that Denise's death wasn't on him, that he was the best man she had ever known, but she hadn't. Deep down, they both knew that if Daryl had killed that man Dwight when he had had the chance, things very well could have turned out differently. It tore her apart inside knowing that Daryl too thought killing was the answer now and she just couldn't be around to see one more person she loved torn apart inside like that, turning into someone different, someone unrecognizable.

She briefly wondered how he had taken the news of her leaving Alexandria. She knew he would be upset, perhaps even angry, but maybe there had been some relief in her departure. She could still see the look of confusion the day she had moved out of their home with Rick and the others to go live with Tobin. He hadn't said a word, had just taken his crossbow and went hunting on the other side of the wall. The distance that had happened between the two of them would be something she'd always mourn. The Carol that she had needed to be in Alexandria had been necessary for her sanity, she couldn't afford to break down or feel. She could have never been that Carol with Daryl truly looking at her and so she had slowly pushed him away.

She looked up, in surprise, at the sound of the gate opening. The gate never opened at this time of the day, only at dawn and dusk, unless there was an emergency. She slowly stood, wrapping her hand around her knife handle, her heart pounding. A bunch of men from the Kingdom entered, greeting no one and heading directly inside.

"What's going on?" She asked Morgan who had appeared beside her.

"Captives - from The Sanctuary - they escaped and are seeking refuge here."

The Sanctuary. She had heard rumblings all throughout the Kingdom about this Sanctuary, about the Saviours and the elusive man named Negan. Rick had thought he'd killed Negan - turned out he hadn't. Morgan had tried to use this information to get her to return to Alexandria with him, warn the others. She agreed that they needed to be warned, and silently feared that perhaps they were already too late, she knew exactly what they were capable of, but she refused to accompany him. He and another man, whose name she couldn't recall, were to leave that very evening to go and inform Rick and the others. Which was why her escaping in the morning was imperative.

It was damp and a slight chill clung in the air. She peeked around the corner, seeing if it was clear and if the guards were at their proper posts. Her heart was beating erratically, high on alert. No team was set to go out that morning because of the new guests they had received the previous day. It was nearly time for the men that were out to return and for her to try and make her getaway. She hefted her bag further up her shoulder, leaning against the wall to catch her breath, doing her best to ignore the pain in her leg.

A trail of smoke caught her eye. A single figure stood out in the distance smoking a cigarette. This was new. No one was ever out here at this time. The figure turned slightly and her breath caught in her throat and her knees nearly gave out. A pair of angel wings glowed in the moonlight. Angel wings that she knew in intimate detail, every line, every stitch. Had he found her? The hope that sprung forward in her chest surprised her. Tears filled her eyes as she took a tentative step forward on shaky limbs. The figure moved, the moonlight giving her a clearer picture and she stopped dead. The person was too petite, the hair, too smooth. A tear of disappointment escaped down her cheek. Her face scrunched in confusion, it was a woman, but she knew with 100 percent certainty that the vest belonged to Daryl. Panic gripped her heart.

She moved automatically, grabbing her knife and quietly stalked after her prey. She had her knife at the woman's throat before she could even make a sound of protest.

Who the hell are you?" she snarled. "And where in the hell did you get that vest."

She could hear the woman's surprised gasp, her body tensing with fear.

"My - my husband -" she stuttered.

She tightened her hold on the woman, yanking her closer.

"Try again," she growled, "Where - did you - get the - vest?"

"It's the truth," the woman argued, her voice high and jittery. "My hus-husband gave it to me but - but it belonged to a man before - a man named Dixon."

She bit her lip, fighting back the urge to cry out, terror consuming her entire body. She didn't want to know, but she had to.

She pulled her knife away from the woman's throat, spinning her roughly to face her making sure to keep her knife pointed at the woman's face. "Where is he?" She demanded, her voice cracking, betraying her.

The woman studied her with curious trepidation and something flickered in her eyes, a recognition of some sort.

The next words out of the woman's mouth nearly knocked her over.

"Oh my God," the woman quietly breathed, "You're Carol."

Thanks for reading! Thoughts?