The Ghosts That We Knew

Well I did it again. I wrote another thing. Except this time I have written based off criteria for the Maiden Voyage of the U.S.S. Caryl. If you already subscribe to their Tumblr, then you certainly know what's up. I will say I thoroughly enjoyed writing this and am surprised by how fast I knocked it out. Starting to really get into the swing of things. That makes me happy. Anywho, I hope you all enjoy.

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

Carol had wanted to take the midday watch by herself. It wasn't like her to do such a thing. Carol typically took her watch shifts with Carl, Glenn, or Daryl. But not today. She'd gone up with a small backpack in one hand and her rifle in the other. She had politely refused to take watch with Carl and even Daryl whom seemed perturbed by her decline of his presence. Something was bothering her and he would get to the bottom of it. Whether he liked it or not.

But... He didn't know how to approach her. Daryl didn't want to just barge in and demand that she tell him what was wrong. No, that wasn't like him. He wasn't the demanding-prodding type. Carol was different. She just knew. She just understood. Daryl shrugged his mixed feelings on the situation away and shouldered his crossbow as he made his way through the double fencing towards the lonely guard tower. He would figure it out when the opportunity presented itself. They always did.

Thinking twice as he approached from the stairs that lead to its entrance, he gently knocked on the door. He waited a few seconds before trying a second time knocking on the door a little harder than before. Daryl received no response. He quirked an eyebrow at the knob and decided to just enter at his own risk. What was the worst she could she do? Throw him out? Yell at him for disturbing her solitude?

He stepped inside and immediately saw Carol. She sat at the panel in the cabin with her knees drawn up, arms folded across her kneecaps. Upon hearing the door open, she briefly turned a little to see who had entered. Seeing that it was only Daryl, she went back to staring out the window with a wistful look. The door that led to the sniper's perch outside was open letting the cool air circulate from outside to within the stuffy room. The backpack she had taken rested next to her still zipped up.

Not really knowing how to begin his conversation, Daryl moved to lean against the wall caddy-corner to her and set his crossbow down next to his boots. Carol shifted in her seat and let out a small sigh, her arched shoulders rising up and sinking low on her back. They sat in silence, neither saying a word for a good long while. Daryl watched her. She barely moved. She just sat there staring out into the forest. Daryl adjusted, rolling his shoulder to remove the kink from resting so idly against the wall. He let out a small cough breaking the silence for the moment. The quiet resumed.

After what seemed like hours, Carol pulled the bag over to her and undid the zipper. She pulled out a small shoebox from within and set the bag to the side. Carol drummed her fingers along the lid before hesitantly removing it and placing it under the box. Her eyes were downcast and sad as she sucked in a small sob she almost let escape her lips.

"Sophia would have been about 13 right about this time of year I would like to think. Frankly, I don't even know what month we are in. I just know the time." She said and pulled a small pink wrist watch from inside. Daryl raised a brow in surprise that she had an actual working watch. "See? It's 2:47 P.M. Sophia used to wear this every day when she was in first grade." Carol glanced over her shoulder and ushered Daryl over to come look inside the box with her.

Daryl let out a small huff as he made his way over to her and leaned in to take a peek, arm resting on the top of Carol's chair. She smiled somberly at him as he looked with curious eyes at the contents. All that he saw inside was a bunch of junk, at least it appeared that way to him, but to Carol he knew each item had a meaning; a story to its existence inside the shoebox.

Carol pulled a purple scarf from within the box. A few loose articles softly thumped back inside the shoebox having been tangled in its length. She chuckled and rubbed the silky material between her fingers admiring its plaid pattern. "This was Sophia's first attempt at thievery, believe it or not."

Daryl snorted in disbelief. "Come again?" He barked. Had he heard right? This scrawny little thing that cried over most everything had tried shoplifting?

"Yeah... Sophia was maybe 4 or 5 years old. Ed had given me money to go buy some clothes for Sophia for school so we walked to the Goodwill down the road. I was looking in the children's section for shirts when she had this lovely purple scarf wrapped around her neck and face. Oh she wanted it. But I told her no and put it back. When we finished shopping for her, she seemed off for some reason. She wasn't talking or doing much of anything. Just walked alongside me with this quailing look on her face. As we walked down the road I noticed she had her arms folded tightly and she just kept fidgeting with something. Come to find she had stuffed this scarf under her shirt because she wanted it so badly and knew I wouldn't let her have it. I was so mortified!" Carol laughed in reminiscence.

Daryl couldn't help but hold his attention on her. She looked so... happy talking about these old memories. In that moment, he could see Carol's heart. He saw it there in plain sight. It was right there tucked inside that box she held. He had seen her smile and laugh over the course of the year he had grown to know her, but somehow this was different. These emotions she was evoking in this moment... they were genuine and true. Her love had been so strong and she had buried it so deep inside that box the day Sophia had stumbled out of the barn. Daryl wanted to frown, but thought better of it and instead began chewing the inside of his cheek. This was Carol's time to reminisce and grieve if she needed to. No reason to spoil it on account of his own emotional observation.

His eyes roved back to the shoebox, lingering here and there. Suddenly his gaze stopped moving about the box and they focused. Daryl saw a rather odd item and reached over picking it up. He squeezed it a few times and looked down at Carol. She looked back up at him with that impish twinkle in her eye that made his stomach turn in a good sort of way.

"What?" She asked quirking a quizzical brow at him.

"The hell is this?" Daryl scoffed.

Carol stifled a giggle and took the obnoxious yellow rubber duck from him, turning it over in her hands. "I cannot for the life of me remember where this came from. I just remember Sophia coming home from school one day saying that a little boy had given it to her. Oh... that's right. Joel. This little boy had the biggest crush on Sophia and all he had was his rubber ducky to give to her. His family wasn't any better off than we were, but he wanted her to have this. She took this duck everywhere with her... until Ed found out about it and threw it away." Her voice warbled and she let out a discontented sigh. "Sophia was so heartbroken. She just stopped talking with Joel after that. He had been her only friend and she thought if she didn't have the duck then he wouldn't bother with her. She thought of it as her ticket to allow her to speak to him. Without it there was no purpose. Sophia didn't want to face him when asked if she still had it. She was only 7 when that happened. It's weird knowing that at that young in age a child is able to understand the concept of rejection so plainly."

"'Spose so. But you still have it here." Daryl replied poking at the orange bill of the duck, watching as its plastic bill depressed into its fat body.

Carol grimaced. "I had to dig through the dumpster to find it, but I couldn't give it back to her. No... Ed would have taken it out on Sophia if he had found her with it. I couldn't let him touch my baby"

Daryl placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He understood what she meant. She had taken the brunt of her husband's anger for finding the duck. All for the sake of her little girl and her chance at being happy. Carol looked back up at him, their gazes meeting. The corners of her lips tugged up in a slight smile.

"Thank you." She said her tone even and soft.

Daryl nodded. He watched as she looked away and placed the duck back in the shoebox. His eyes followed her hands as they moved some other items around: a few old silver dollars still rather shiny for their vintage, a large red cats-eye marble, an old green yo-yo missing the string, and... another rather odd item. Even Carol had noticed this article as her brows furrowed in confusion at it. She picked it up and just cocked her head unsure as to why or how it had gotten there in the first place.

"And this?" Questioned Daryl.

Carol remained silent for a few seconds before replying, "I don't even know. I think Ed might have just thrown it in there when we were gathering supplies. That night was so chaotic. Everything had happened so fast. It was just a blur."

"Who throws a fuckin' toothbrush in a shoebox? That's just stupid." He huffed and snatched the toothbrush from Carol's hands. She looked at him in surprise.

"Well, not like it ain't gon' be missed." He chided as walked out the door of the cabin and with a few running steps chucked the toothbrush out into the open forest as far as he could. A lopsided smirk graced his lips upon his return back inside the cabin.

Carol laughed at his look of triumph, "I'm not even mad."

Daryl looked at her, hands on his hips. "Well y'all shouldn't be. It's just a damned toothbrush. Not like Glenn 'r Maggie can't grab 'nother on one o' their runs."

The two stayed silent. Carol had a soft smile, but it suddenly dissolved at a stark revelation. She pulled her knees back up to the chair, wrapping her arms around her shins. Her gaze slowly went up to Daryl and their eyes met again. That happy twinkle had flickered out. Her lips were drawn into a thin-lipped grimace. He could feel his demeanor change and he went to chewing the skin off the corner of his thumb.

"I need to do something. Will you come with me?" She asked, hopeful that he would accept her request.

Without any questions in regard to what she intended, Daryl absently nodded. She gathered the shoebox contents and put them back inside, placing the lid on top and tucking it back into the backpack. Daryl gestured for Carol to go down the guard tower first. She was the one in charge of this excursion they were venturing on. He was just there for the ride, but mostly for protection and to offer what little support he could muster.

Carol made her way down and out towards the gates that led out of the prison. Ensuring that no walkers were nearby, they quickly opened the gates and shut them. Daryl drew his crossbow as Carol pulled a machete from off her hip. It was that moment that Daryl understood where he was going and took lead. He moved swiftly and silently through the trees a few meters away. Their destination wasn't far, but it still could go terribly if poorly executed. They had to keep quiet and work as a unit.

In a matter of minutes, they had arrived at their destination. Carol quickly got to one knee and unzipped her bag, rummaging around to find a spade. Daryl stood at attention and surveyed the area as Carol began digging her hole. The soil luckily wasn't hard and she made easy work of it breaking it down in a few shovelfuls. Carol took the shoebox from out of her pack, taking one last look at the markered drawings of rainbows and kittens, and set it inside the hole. A few tears fell from her face, but she hurriedly wiped them away smearing dirt across her nose in the process. She quickly filled the hole she had dug full of dirt and padded down the soil to make it even and smooth creating a firm foundation.

Carol wiped the sweat from her brow and took Daryl's outstretched hand. He pulled her up and the two stood in silence. The birds idly chirped back and forth, insects hummed as they flew past their faces. The Cherokee rose bush blossoms lulled in the light breeze, a few petals falling onto the place where Carol had buried the box.

A snap of a twig set their senses reeling back from their calm and Daryl was on point in seconds aiming his bow at the source of the noise. A rustle came from a bush no more than ten yards away from them. The two stood attentive waiting for what was to come. Carol put her hand on Daryl's crossbow and gently nudged it down.

"Look!" She whispered pointing at a doe and her fawn stumbling out of the brush. Daryl hesitantly obeyed and lowered his weapon observing as the pair moved like ghosts. Not a single sound came from the two deer as they moved silently through the forest, pausing to take in their surroundings before proceeding once more. In a few leaps and bounds the pair was out of sight.

Daryl looked back to the woman before him and couldn't help but offer a crooked smile in return. Her previous somber expression had been replaced with one of hope and safety. She was smiling for the living. Smiling for the burdens she had buried and the renewed happiness she had just unlocked.

"Deer are majestic creatures. Aren't they?" She uttered after a few seconds.

Daryl simply nodded. He didn't want to open his mouth and ruin the moment for her. He gently touched the small of her back and whispered, "We can't linger long."

Carol turned to leave casting one last glance to the ghost that she had known long ago. She smiled one last time and blew a kiss towards the Cherokee roses that waved adieu in return.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I do appreciate it. If you enjoyed the work you just read, please take a look at the other fictions I have at my profile page. :)