If Tomorrow Wasn't Such a Long Time

Sorry for the very, very late update. I've had other things and with the new school semester starting up I've had to get my finances up to par with where they should. All that real life jazz. Also I initially lost the first draft of this due to complications so this isn't my intentioned vision since its been redone to the best of what I had written before. I've been writing this on and off because of not knowing how to get from point A to point B, but I think I figured it out. Lots of The Civil Wars and The Last of Us listening sessions for sure helped spur the ideas for this. I hope it shows. Enjoy.

Also: I own nothing in regards to The Walking Dead. All rights belong to the copyright holder.

Chapter 15

Daryl's limped jog had helped dry his clothes some, but the rough material still chaffed at his wounds, irritation burning with a sharp piercing pain edging up his thigh. His hair was damp, but that didn't bother him none neither. None of it did. He just wanted to find Carol and Judith as soon as possible. That was all that mattered. He had given Rick his word and he would do just that. Dixons were good like that.

He let out a heavy sigh of relief at the sight of the car graveyard. It looked just as it had the day they had left it not too long ago. Same dusty and now corroded cars in a quiet and unfriendly ghost town that creaked and moaned of seasons past.

He took cautious slow steps trying to ease the weight off his leg as he ambled through the maze of cars. He moved with a slight limp as he crept along the pavement at an easy leisure pace. The hunter had already swung his crossbow to his front, finger hovering near the trigger in the event he had to loose an arrow fast if caught off guard. If he was alert enough he wouldn't have to deal with drawing the string back to nock another arrow.

It was deathly quiet around him. Very little if any noise; only the light rustle of trees from the woods and the gentle creak of rusty door hinges having been left open for far too long pierced the sullen silence. It didn't sit right with him. Made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle with racked nerves.

Nothing 'bout any of this did. He should have at least heard Carol rummaging through some truck bed or perhaps maybe the distinct giggle or crying of Judith- somewhere. Silence welcomed him and it made him anxious as hell to find them and get the fuck out of there as soon as possible. He didn't want to linger too much. They were too exposed for a rival group to see them or walkers moving in a herd to corner them.

Daryl paced towards several cars, peeking inside to see if Carol had taken refuge in one trying to gauge whether or not she was even there anymore. It was hard to say. Tracking on pavement was much more difficult than in the woods where he could use the broken foliage or the imprint of her boots to get a read on whether she had been by a few minutes or hours ago. He sighed, biting back the grimace that was creeping onto his lips and the anxiety settling in the pit of his stomach.

He stopped in his tracks.

He heard it: muffled crying. It was a baby's wailing cry. The hunter knew that cry anywhere. He pushed forward stumbling towards each car almost crashing into each hood, trunk, didn't matter as he strained trying to crane his neck to see if the car he was heaving against was the one Judith was hiding in. The sound grew louder as he drew closer to a silver pickup truck. The wail was muted but still loud enough that he had caught it. He figured the windows had been cracked just enough so that Judith could breathe whilst still maintaining a gentle warmth from the fall chill that had slowly crept in.

Daryl looked around cautiously before peeking through the glass and spying Judith huddled on the floor in a bunch of blankets. He tapped the glass trying to get her attention so she would soften up her crying. Perhaps if she saw Daryl, a familiar face peering through, she would calm down enough for him to get her to relax.

He gently rapped against the glass with his fingers drawing her attention up to him in the window. Judith's head turned up slightly and her bunched crying face slowly fell away almost immediately at the sight of him. A wide grin spread across her chubby face as she stared in wonderment at him through the window grasping at him to pick her up.

The hunter breathed a small sigh of relief as he quietly opened the car-door, greeted by the bubbling laughter of the baby tucked away inside. He leaned in and reached for Judith. He scooped her up in his arms and gave her a gentle rock as he carefully took note of what was inside the cab of the truck. He noticed a bag or two that sat where Carol had presumably slept. The gunny sacks of supplies he had put together were no longer there. Daryl figured she had used them for looting. Smart woman. He thought to himself as he continued roving the cab to get a better indication of Carol's whereabouts. His poncho lay draped along the bench of the cab seat bunched near another blanket she had probably been using to keep out the nippy winter chill that was starting to settle upon them.

Daryl bounced Judith once more in his arms giving her a quick brush of his lips against the crown of her head and set her back into the bundle of blankets Carol had made for her. He spoke in a soft gruff voice, "Be quiet fer me, a'ight?"

He wagged a knowing finger at the baby as she let out a giggle kicking her legs a bit beneath the blanket. A throaty laugh escaped his lips as he tucked the blanket around her small body. Daryl nodded a little to her as he shut the door making sure he heard the click of the lock mechanism and continued his search for Carol.

The air was still and the ebbing sensation of tingles in his shoulder wasn't making his trek any easier to navigate amongst the debris and car wreckage. He especially didn't find it comfortable with trying to keep his crossbow at the ready with it drawn half-way. The throbbing pain had him gritting his teeth as he edged along the guardrail trying to keep out of sight in case he came across walkers or another opposing search party. He could deal with walkers since they were easily predictable whereas humans were not. He'd learned that the hard way with how erratic Merle was when he had taken Maggie and Glenn, but he didn't blame him. None of them. They had made their choices and in the heat of the moment mistakes had been made.

He gruffed at the thought, still moving silently and steadily on shaky legs. The hunter took notice of the deep RV tracks that still embedded the median where it had gotten stuck at one point when they were trying to get to the Greene farm. That had been after their second night of searching for Sophia.

Daryl knew he was getting closer to it and he felt the tension knot his guts up as he saw it come into view. The painted words were smeared and worn out from the weathering of days gone by. He could still see the letters vivid in his mind despite how faded they were now. How could the hunter not recall what had been written there? He'd been an onlooker to the events watching as Lori wrote the letter and Carol stood by the wayside eyes red and cheeks puffy from cryin' the night before. He didn't blame her. She had just lost her daughter and for all she knew she could just be gone. Daryl knew the feeling well. He had still been searching for Merle despite the fact that he had long since traveled away from Atlanta. He knew that he may chance on Merle someday, sooner or later. Nothing could kill Merle, but himself. He knew that well enough and he would continue to believe it until otherwise.

He continued on brushing his fingers lightly against the side panel of the car, leaving a trail cut through the thick dust that caked the car. Had it really been that long? He thought as he crept along the car still trying to maintain a low profile. He heard a can roll and a shuffle. Daryl cautiously made his way over towards the sound, ears perked up to catch any other noise. He drew his bow up eyes glaring down the reticle. The can rolled into view and a walker lurched out from behind a car. His finger squeezed the trigger and the arrow was loosed as quickly as it had come around the corner- bullseye. The walker fell with a low thud and the hunter quietly moved toward the body pulling the arrow from its soft skull. He wiped the arrow clean at the calf of his pant leg and dropped his crossbow down so his foot was planted firmly on the stirrup, struggling to draw the string back.

He grunted through the pain, biting back the grimace creeping onto his lips. Daryl knew that in a pinch his shoulder was going to determine a lot with how things would pan out. Whether or not they made it out alive being the highest ticket on his list. It didn't bode well and he felt it twist in his stomach the thoughts of 'could haves' swirling about. Where was she?

He looked about the area not seeing much as far as an indicator was concerned that Carol was around. He huffed in irritation hearing the string nock back completely and quickly set off in the direction he had been following. He drew his crossbow up as he pressed forward, ears keened on any noise that might settle his nerves and bring him that much closer to Carol and the Prison. Daryl so desperately wanted to be back in the confines of the Prison waiting out the rest of this bullshit so he could heal and mill about with his usual duties.

It was distant, but he had heard it. He knew that yelp from anywhere. "Fuck," he hissed under his breath as he limped in the direction of the cry he had heard.

The hunter's breath caught in his throat when he heard the cackling and jeers echoing loud in the area. He quickened his pace, still maintaining a stealthy creep. He came to a van, its exhaust still pungent in the air and the tailpipe radiating a warm heat as he cautiously moved alongside it. He peeked over its hood trying not to bark colorful words at what he had found.

Carol wasn't alone. He counted three men encircling her as she wildly thrust the skinning knife he had given her at the soft of their bellies. Daryl could clearly see that something was wrong. Her thrusts were not true and she wasn't completely following through with what he had shown her.

Red. He saw the dribble of blood running down her temple in a slow stream. His lip curled back at the sight wanting to shove his knife into each and every single bastard that stood taunting at her. He hoped she got one of them good with his knife. He kept quiet though, watching with bated breath trying to assess the situation before bull-rushing into the group and possibly getting them both killed.

A man in a red ball cap came up from behind her and in a swift notion pinned her arms up high in a disabling hold. He carefully removed her knife before pressing it at the pulse point of her neck relishing in the way she turned away from it. He cackled in a deep throaty voice as she squirmed trying to free herself, but his hands had a firm hold on both her arms and the knife precariously against her throat.

"Hey honey, yer only makin' this much harder for us to keep ya 'live, ya know tha' right?" He cooed pressing his chapped lips against her cheek. Running his tongue along her cheek, grinned rubbing his nose into the soft flesh of her cheek.

Daryl could feel the heat rise in his own cheeks and his anger burning like a stoked fire as he watched from the wayside the way the man pressed himself up against her, a toothy grin spreading across his lips feeling the contours of her body melding with his. He grit his teeth, nails digging half-moons into his palm as he watched the display. If he had known any better he would think the man already knew Daryl was there watching him put on a bravado to show what he was able to and could do to her.

Despite his want to run in and thrust his knife in each of their skulls, Daryl knew that could easily backfire and it would end her life faster than he could end theirs. He waited biting the inside of his cheek as he watched the man continue to run his lips along her face and down her neck. "My such sof' skin ya got there honey. I'm sure you'll do jus' nice fer us all." He smirked running his tongue down her neck his hand with the knife slowly traveling down her chest fingers brushing along her breast through the material.

He watched as the man wedged a knee between her legs. His free hand with the knife roaming about her body, it's garish blade precariously brushing; the other still held tight against her to keep from moving. Daryl could wager that this wasn't the first woman that had fallen prey to this band of miscreants. The way his hands held her in place gave indication that he'd had some practice. The anger was bubbling up at the thought that if he hadn't made his trek out as he had- he couldn't think like that now. He had to get rid of these men and reclaim Carol. Get her away from them somehow.

Carol squirmed, body shaking from the trembling fear flashing in her eyes. It was getting increasingly more difficult for Daryl to keep his cool, to resist from rushing in. He was sure this man knew he was there as all this seemed pre-executed. Already known that he was lying in wait.

"Yer gon' like us, ver' much honey." The ball cap wheezed as he slipped his hand beneath her shirt. Carol tipped her head back biting her lower lip, brows knitted together as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

At that moment, Daryl didn't care. That look in her eye spoke all that needed saying. Told him exactly what he needed to do. He drew his crossbow up and came prowling towards them with a seething anger that followed with him. "Git away from 'er!" He barked harshly glaring at them hoping his bluff would work, moving through the pain of his arm and leg.

The man grinned wickedly jerking Carol around to face Daryl, knife returning back to its place near her throat. "Find yer own woman. This ones ours. Don't ya know it ain't kind to take what ain't yers, Georgia?" The man crowed pressing his cheek into Carol's- the same grin still intact on his lips.

"She ain't yers to have. I advise ya give her back." He growled keeping his bow drawn up and aimed at the man's head. His aim was true and he wouldn't miss if he had to take a shot. Didn't matter if he was near death, Daryl knew he wouldn't miss. He couldn't afford to be lazy.

Grabbing her chin and jerking her face up to face Daryl, the red capped man pressed his lips into Carol's cheek. "Oh this be yer woman? Is this yer man honey?" He cackled pausing in his jeer to look back at Carol with raised brows. "Is Georgia here your squeeze?" He cooed adjusting his grip on her so her head was turned up, eyes aimed at Daryl as he continued to speak.

She tried to remain calm only letting out a small whimper at the dig of the man's fingers at her jaw. Maintaining a quiet vigil more or less. She uttered no words to say that she knew who Daryl was. And for that Daryl was grateful.

"Yer the silent type huh sweetie? D'ya like it when Georgia touches ya like this? Makes ya moan fer him when he's makin' sweet love t'ya? Huh?" The man groused dragging the knife along her clavicle, fingers brushing along her chest and down towards the waistband of her jeans. His grin widened at the look on Daryl's face which spoke volumes of what he wanted to do to the man when he got his hands on him.

"Ya keep fuckin' with her an' y'all wish ya hadn't. Let 'er go and y'all can walk away." Daryl gruffed taking a cautious step forward but hesitated on his next step when the red cap drew the knife grazing it along her skin. A tendril of blood began to streak down her chest. The knife was sharper than he'd wagered. If he wanted to save her he would have to end this now.

"Oh Georgia, boy. Ya think we're some stupid sons of bitches, huh? Let me tells you she won't make it out alive. I can guarantee she won't. Now you bes' turn 'round and go back the ways yous came. Run alon'. We'll take good care o' yer woman." He chided flicking his hand with the knife at him to get moving. Daryl didn't move. Stood stock still, crossbow still aimed at the man, eyes narrowed with a glare that could have set him aflame if he could.

Daryl scoffed in the silent standoff as he took a precarious step forward. He was daring the man to make a move. The man smirked before laughing. "You done fucked up Georgia."

It was fast and instant. The knife sliding across her neck. The look of pure surprise and fear crossing her features as her hands flew to her throat. The way her body immediately dropped to the ground and the way the man simply spat at the ground, grinning ear to ear. Daryl didn't hesitate. He squeezed the trigger of the crossbow and watched as it sailed and launched itself through the skull of the man. He fell in a heap beside Carol.

The swell of anger coursing through his veins sent Daryl into a flurry. He felt no pain in his arm. Nothing in his leg. Pure adrenaline and anger. His boot was on the stirrup in seconds and despite the heavy tautness of the string, Daryl had it drawn back and ready to fire. The two onlookers to the ball capped man, took several glances from the scene before firing several shots and missing. Seeing that their bullets hadn't hit their target, they set off in a run.

It was like prey and predator. Them running sent a trigger through his brain and he was on them as quickly as they'd took off. One was faster than the other and the more haggard and worn man was the one Daryl had set his sights on.

The man was pinned in seconds under Daryl's quick fists and leveraged thrust of his body weight sending them in a tussle of limbs to the ground. The haggard looking man's head snapped to the left as Daryl gave him a good hook to the chin. He pulled his knife from its sheath and without much a second thought rammed the blade deep into the man's heart. Daryl let the hilt settle in his hand before giving it a good jerk down into the man's soft belly. The haggard hunter was writhing beneath Daryl but he didn't care. His shaking fingers were trying to grab Daryl's hands and wrench the jammed knife free from his chest. The haggard hunter sputtered out blood as his fingers fell limply to his side, mouth falling open as he let out one last stunted breath.

Daryl harrumphed at him as he pulled his knife from the broken rib cage. He took off into a run after the other man that had bolted at the sight of his companion being pummeled to death. He scoffed at the thought of ever leaving one of his own behind in such a manner. Daryl swung his crossbow from his back to the front and stopped in place taking careful aim. He pulled the trigger as he watched the arrow sail through the air striking the man in the leg. He stumbled and fell letting out a shriek as a red shade began creeping into his pant leg. Daryl continued after the shrieking man, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and thrusting him up onto his feet, hand firmly digging the arrow into the bastards leg.

"Anymore of ya I gotta worry about, huh?" He barked jerking the arrow around in the now profusely bleeding wound. The man panted letting out a sharp 'NO' in rebuttal.

Daryl nodded at him snarling, "Right fine by me." He yanked hard on the arrow, pulling it out of his thigh. "Looks like I hit the femoral artery." He scoffed shaking his head a little before giving him a good swift kick. "You better run." He hissed wiping the blood off his arrow on the man's own pant leg.

He heard the gurgled noises from behind him. It pulled the hunter away from what he had been doing. He'd let the man be pied piper to his own demise with the trail of blood fresh in the air and the loud shrieks of pain that had been emitted in the commotion. He'd be a good distraction point for any walkers headed for them.

Daryl took off towards where Carol lay on the ground hand clamped tight around her throat, hands and jacket bled through. He applied strong pressure around her neck thinking quickly as best as he possibly could. He hadn't forgotten that she'd been there. He'd been too hellbent on making the bastards pay. Her eyelashes were fluttering open and shut as her lips moved to form words, but nothing came out.

"Don't you do this to me Carol. Nope. Not now. C'mon. It ain't more 'an a nick. C'mon we gotta go back." He gruffed resting her head in his lap. Daryl pulled his grease rag from his back pocket and removed her bloodied hands from her wound.

A long red sliver went along the soft curve of her neck where the blood was flowing freely from. He examined it carefully before letting out a huff of relief. The artery hadn't been severed but that didn't mean by any means that she was out of the woods. He needed to stop the bleeding and stitch that slice shut. Daryl applied the rag to her neck with a firm but gentle pressure to stop any further bleeding while soaking up the blood that had been mucking up their clothes.

Carol needed help. That much was apparent but he also needed to grab Judith and bring her over to where they were. She was alone in the car nearest the front. Carol didn't have that kind of time nor could he just leave Judith in there by herself. Daryl had to make a choice and fast. He felt his chest clench and a shaking in his bones forcing him to pick Carol up. He shakily made his way over to the minivan that had its door wide open. He assumed she had been looting it when she had been encountered. He laid her inside the van, head propped on bunched up coats above her heart to help with appeasing the pressure of blood being forced through her veins.

"I'll be back." He huffed, brushing plastered sweaty curls of her hair from her face and pressing his lips lightly upon her forehead. "Don't you give up on me, ya hear?"

Daryl frowned at her lack of response, that stinging pain in his chest leaping back, but knew she was still with him despite that. He'd felt her pulse when his fingers had brushed along her neck and it somewhat eased his worry. With a low grunt, he slid the door shut letting his fingers linger a moment on its handle before sprinting off towards where Judith was. He didn't care that the throbbing sting in his leg was making his trek back all the more unbearable.

He didn't have a choice. If he wanted to get both, Daryl had to bite back the pain and carry forward. Dixons weren't no pussies. They were strong men that didn't cry. Men that did whatever it took to get a job done. He shook his head as he pressed on knowing his thoughts weren't too far from the truth.

He took off in a small jog retracing his steps back to where he had found the baby girl when he had first arrived. Daryl could hear her soft laughter coming from the truck that she had been tucked in near the dash of the passenger seat. He opened the door softly, pressing his calloused fingers to his lips to shush her. He huffed a sigh of relief as she immediately quieted down staring at him with big wide eyes, a cheeky smile spreading across her face. Daryl hurriedly bagged everything he could that was obviously Carol's that lay on the bench of the cab. He tossed his poncho over his shoulders and quickly scanned the cab over ensuring nothing was left behind.

The hunter gently carried Judith in his arms, clutched against his chest back to the mini-van. He wound his arms around her protectively, ensuring her safety before his own as he stalked back with quiet even footfalls despite his limp. Daryl maneuvered Judith into the crook of his good arm as he slid the mini-van door open with a grunt and groan of pain. He panted a little trying to make as little noise as possible. No knowing what was lingering with the gun shots that had been fired as well as the screams that had come from the area. Daryl had to be extra careful.

"Carol. It's me. I'm here." Daryl groused as he gingerly climbed into the mini-van himself and settled Judith into the open suitcase that had been previously looted. She nestled into the mass of blankets he had layered to create a make-shift cradle for her to lay in giggling happily as she tried grabbing at the lengthy wisps of hair at his temples. He pulled back just enough so she was out of reach, tucking her in so she couldn't roll out of the suitcase.

"Carol?" He repeated looking over his shoulder at her. She lay motionless beyond the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Daryl shifted over towards Carol pressing his middle and index fingers to the base of her wrist where the pulse was at her thumb. It was incredibly faint. He felt his heart thrumming in his own chest as he looked at her pale cheeks and the bloody rag at her neck. Daryl could feel the panic begin to set in as he gently nudged her.

She didn't respond.

The hunter reached over to the soaked through grease rag and removed it to see if her wound was still bleeding out. Dribbles of blood ran a jagged line down her neck as he grabbed at another piece of clothing that had been carelessly tossed in the car. He pressed it against her neck adding a bit more pressure than before. He needed to get the bleeding to stop if possible so he could try and figure out how to close her knife wound.

He raked a hand through his mussy hair trying to figure out where he would have some type of cordage or twine. The hunter could feel the small fire of anger beginning to seethe through at having been too late to help Carol. He had made it his mission to bring them both back and here he was. A step behind and a life less than before. He huffed massaging the bridge of his nose trying to calm himself down. He couldn't blow up now. He had to think rationally about what could be done for Carol.

This wasn't the end. Not by a long shot.

He could still save her. It took him a moment to realize that he had a small bit of fishing line from Merle when they had been out in the woods. Daryl grabbed at his backpack and quickly started rummaging through each pocket, snapping buttons and zippering pouches chucking unnecessary shit that he didn't need in search of the line. He found a small little plastic bag of fish line and hooks.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he made sure the hooks looked clean and lucky him there were no barbs on the hooks. Clean regular hooks. This had to be too good to be true. There was no way he could be this lucky right now.

"Carol— this might hurt. 'M sorry." He mumbled under his breath as he removed the article of clothing that had been soaking up her bleeding. He took note of the cut and ground his teeth a moment not sure whether he could do this. His hands were shaking slightly and he had stopped breathing.

Come on, Darylina. Don't want your lady love to bleed out now do ya? Time's a-tickin' fer her. Better get a move on or yer gonna lose 'er.

Merle's voice was egging him on in his head and he had to blink back the fear he had. He was afraid and he was alone. He didn't have anyone with him. He had sewn up his own wounds before with no regard to infection or how haphazardly of a job he had done for himself, but this was different. Daryl cared what happened to Carol. He couldn't see her hurt knowing that he could do something to help save her.

Daryl took a deep shuddering breath as he knotted the end of the line as much as possible. He brought the hook close to her flesh and waited a moment. How did he expect to save her when all the other people he had tried saving were always just out of his grasp? What made this any different? He hadn't been able to save Sophia. He couldn't save Carol the first time when he thought they had lost her in the tombs. And he sure as fuck couldn't save Merle neither. How did he expect to save Carol now? His track record was awful and he knew she knew that. He shut his eyes massaging his temples letting the full force of failures hit him repeatedly over and over again.

Yer wastin' time, Darylina.

He felt the featherlight cold touch at his elbow and Daryl's eyes snapped open. Carol's hand wavered outstretched as she tried her best to reassure him, brushing her thumb against the scratched leather of his jacket. "You're— every bit as good— every bit..." She murmured in a choked rasp. Her eyelashes were fluttering open and shut as she spoke in broken fragments.

She believed in him. Carol believed he was capable of doing what needed to be done. He took her hand and rest it on his knee. Her fingers lacked the normal warmth against his skin as he felt them tremble. Daryl huffed again and took another deep breath bringing the hook close to the wound.

This was it.

"Here we go." He murmured as he began weaving the hook through the sub-dermal layer of the skin. With deft and steady fingers, Daryl managed to get the other end of the hook through the opposing side of flesh and sew it together. He pulled the length of line through the wound just tight enough so he started the close of the stitching.

The hunter felt her wince as her nails dug deep half moons into his kneecap. Carol's brow furrowed at the pain, but she didn't emit any sound. She just took it. This bothered Daryl more than it should have. He could chalk it up to the years that she had been abused, just dealing with the pain. He felt his lip curl up into a slight snarl angry that she had grown accustomed to dealing with such trauma. That this to her was nothing more than pain she could tuck away and withhold the signs of weakness— that this hurt more than Carol was letting on.

Despite knowing how much he was hurting Carol, Daryl pushed through winding the hook through the tender flaps of flesh, pulling them together in a tight stitch.

When Daryl had finished the stitching, the knit in Carol's brow didn't falter and for a moment, he had to keep himself from vigorously shaking her shoulders to rouse her. The moment her fingers loosened their grip at his knee, Daryl felt a wash of relief fall over him. He sighed heavily laughing a little to himself at how absurd he was being. Rubbing the heels of his hands across the hollows of his eyes, Daryl fell back against the opposing sliding door trying to find some respite in all the racked and confused nerves running the gamut of his body.

A/N: Again, I am so sorry for the lateness of this. I hope you enjoyed! More to come soon! Thanks for continuing to read and please leave a review.