WITH YOU II | [16] CAPTURED
Summary: Rick’s group is split. Charlie realizes her sense of life. Daryl gets a surprise at the end of the day.
Warnings: language, violence, death, being captured, mental health
A/N: soak up the fluff at the end, because you know what comes in the next episode...*evil laugh* *thunders* *negan's whistling*
"Come on out. Let's talk."
Rick's voice echoed through the silence woods. Charlie stood tense and alert next to Maggie and Carol, the weight of their situation pressing down on her.
"We're not coming out, but we will talk," replied the woman with ginger hair, stepping forward until she was face to face with Charlie. Her eyes were cold, calculating. "Names."
Charlie stared back, refusing to show any sign of fear. "Maggie, Carol," she said, her voice steady. "I'm Charlie."
The ginger-haired woman nodded slowly, a smirk playing on her lips. "We've got a Carol, a Maggie, and a Charlie," she repeated into her radio. "I'm thinking that's something you want to chat about. And it's going to go our way."
"You can see we have one of yours," Rick answered. "We'll trade."
The ginger-haired woman paused, considering. "I'm listening," she said, once again speaking into the radio.
"First I want to make sure they're all right."
The woman nodded, seemingly agreeing to Rick's terms. She turned on her heel and walked over to where Carol, Maggie, and Charlie were standing, her eyes scrutinizing each of their faces. This time, she seemed to decide to give someone else a chance to speak. "I'll know if you try anything else," she warned, her tone icy.
"Rick, it's Carol..." her voice was shaking.
"Oh, not you." she rolled her eyes, annoyed by the woman's shaky voice. She passed Maggie, then stopped right in front of Charlie. "You."
"Rick, it's Charlie. We're all okay. We'll figure this out, so don't..."
"Shut up," the woman interrupted, rolling her eyes again. "Now, let's talk."
"This is the deal. Let them go, you can have your guy back and live."
"Three for one? That's not much of a trade."
"You don't have another choice." Rick said. "Or you would do something about it."
Silence hung in the air, thick with tension. Charlie stood there, listening to the bickering, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on her. The quiet moments stretched out, each second feeling like an eternity.
The woman glanced at Charlie, then back at the radio. "I'll get back to you," she said curtly, before signaling her people.
The last thing she remembered was being led through the forest with Maggie and Carol, and now she found herself in a dimly lit room. Charlie blinked, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Maggie was seated next to her, her expression a mixture of concern and determination.
"You're wondering if there's a way out of this." the Ginger said. "There isn't. Not unless I say so." she turned to Carol.
Sitting on the ground with her legs taped, she locked eyes with the ginger-haired woman who stood over her with a stern expression. The room felt smaller now, the air thick with tension. The woman turned her attention to Charlie, studying her with an intensity.
"Don't look at me that way," she said. "I already want to kill you all. It's taking all I have not to, so don't test me."
Soon all three were left alone in the room as their capturers left. After the doors were closed and they heard the gunfire from behind it, they scanned their surroundings, searching desperately for anything that could help them break free from their bonds. Their captors had been thorough, leaving nothing within reach that could aid in their escape.
Maggie started to rub her taped hands against the walls' corner as it was the only sharp thing. Time passed slowly as they continued their silent search, every minute feeling like an eternity. The sound, or rather the silence, outside the room made three of them freeze, holding their breath.
Three figures entered again. Charlie's heart skipped a beat—the man and two women who had been with the ginger in the forest. The tension raised and Charlie could see the strain in Carol's eyes, the way her breaths were coming faster and shallower. Her hard breaths were becoming louder and louder.
"Shut up," the ginger woman ordered from above the man, whose wounds she had to treat. "Molly, give me the robe."
"I'm not losing it," he said.
"So you grind it out," the ginger said.
Charlie's eyes darted away from their captors, landing on Carol. Panic surged through Charlie as she realized she was almost choking. She wanted to rush to her, to do something—anything—to help, but her own bindings kept her immobilized. Her heart pounded in her chest, every second stretching out in a torturous eternity.
Carol's eyes met Charlie's, wide with a mix of fear and urgency, full of tears.
"Hey," Maggie tried to turn their attention to her, but it came out as a muffle.
As Charlie's eyes shifted back to the room, she noticed Maggie's expression was a mix of frustration and determination. Charlie couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance. Maggie had been trying to capture their captors' attention, perhaps hoping to negotiate or distract them, but she had been completely ignored. Charlie clenched her jaw, irritation simmering beneath the surface.
"HEY!" Charlie used her abilities gained by living with four boys, her muffled scream brought the attention of the woman named Paula.
"What?!" she asked furiously and untied her mouth.
"She's hyperventilating," she pointed her chin at Carol. "Somebody needs to take her gag off."
"She's a nervous little bird, ain't she?" the old woman snickered, but approached Carol and took of her gag.
"Look at you," the third woman said, pointing at her with her gun. "Bitch, how did you make it this far?"
Charlie couldn't shake the feeling of confusion that gnawed at her as she watched Carol. Maggie, too, seemed perplexed, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. Carol had always been the bravest among them. She had faced down threats far worse than this, had stood strong when others faltered.
Yet here she was, visibly shaken, her hands trembling as she worked to free herself from the bindings. It didn't make sense. Charlie wondered if it was the accumulated stress, the endless fighting, and the constant fear that had finally caught up with her.
"Honey, you need to take some yoga breaths and calm your ass down." the old one said again. Then she noticed something in Carol's hands - a cross. "Oh, you're on of those."
Charlie's mind drifted as she took in the scene. She remembered the time when Sophia disappeared. Carol had been a woman of faith back then, often seen praying, seeking solace in her belief. But that was a lifetime ago. Since those dark days, Carol had transformed into a woman of action, someone who believed in herself and the strength of those around her.
Seeing the cross now, Charlie couldn't help but wonder if Carol's faith had somehow resurfaced.
"Are you actually afraid to die?" the Ginger asked. "All this and you're scared of getting your ticked punched."
"It doesn't matter what happens to me," Carol said weakly. "Just don't hurt Charlie...After the death of my daughter, she's like a daughter to me. And I beg you not to hurt Maggie. And her baby."
The room fell silent, everyone turning to look at Charlie and Maggie. Shock registered on the faces of their captors. "She doesn't look pregnant," the young one spat, untying Maggie's mouth.
"I'm only two months, I think," Maggie answered, breathless.
"You're some kind of stupid, getting knocked up at a time like this," the ginger-haired woman commented, and Maggie scoffed.
"You think that's funny?" the ginger demanded, her eyes narrowing.
"When was it ever smart to get knocked up?" Maggie shot back, defiance in her voice.
Paula laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. "Isn't it just cute? Making a bite-size snack for the dead."
Charlie couldn't listen to them anymore. She was disgusted by their callousness, their lack of humanity. Her mind churned with anger and frustration. These women had no understanding of the bonds that held their group together, which only made her believe that their group, the Saviors, was just a bunch of heartless murderers.
She clenched her fists, feeling the tape dig into her skin. She tried to focus her thoughts on something different...
"Mom, dad, Finn, Will, Luke, Pete, Amy, Ed, Jim, Jacqui, Sophia, Dale, Shane, Jimmy, Patricia, Lori, T-Dog, Oscar, Axel, Merle, Andrea, Karen, Zach, Patrick, Hershel, Mika, Lizzie, Bob, Tyreese, Beth, Noah, Deanna..."
The man in the corner groaned, the sound raw and pained. Charlie's attention snapped to him. He was a scruffy-looking man, his face twisted in discomfort, bound just as securely as they were. It was the same man who she shot back in the woods. "My arm feels like it's on fire!"
"You pull that off, you gonna be nothing but a spigot," scolded him older woman.
"Scout crew is coming," Paula sighed. "They're 30 minutes out, maybe less."
"Make sure you won't cry like this once W comes," old Molly added. "Or his father."
The dark stain on his shirt had spread further, and his breathing was becoming shallow and erratic. His forehead was covered in cold sweat. He was minutes from dying, and the only thing that could stop this would be the most drastic way."He doesn't have 30 minutes," Charlie said, turning all eyes towards her. "His nerves are dying. He's loosing his arm and maybe even life."
Charlie shrugged, closed her eyes, and leaned her head against the wall. Charlie took a deep breath, steadying herself against the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She couldn't make anyone to listen to her.
"My dad lost his leg," Maggie said. "We know that much."
"Talk to Rick and maybe the other guy is still alive."
Paula opened her mouth, but Charlie was the first to answer. "Thirty minutes. Right?"
Paula's cold reaction left a tense silence hanging in the room, but Charlie's attention was drawn back to the dying man in the corner. His gaze locked onto hers with a mixture of pain and accusation, his eyes burning with a heated intensity that sent a chill down her spine.
"You know my problem, smartass?" the man raised to his legs.
"I don't," Charlie answered. "But I guess you'll tell me."
"She did this!" he screamed. "And now she's sitting here and tries to be so smart how to help me." he walked up to Charlie. "I don't care about the trade! Let's do them all right now."
"We wait for others," Paula said. "We need to be smart, and we need insurance. W told us to wait."
"Shoot her in the arm, too," he said with fire in his eyes as he was looking at Charlie.
Charlie's eyes met with Paula's, her answer was immediate. "No."
"You really gonna stick up for some gutless bitch over me?"
"Shut up," Paula said to him.
"Don't push me, Paula!" he groaned and curled with pain, but suddenly he straightened and hit the ginger in the face.
Carol, seeing the man hit Paula, instinctively moved forward, a flash of concern crossing her face. Despite their situation, her compassionate nature couldn't ignore someone in distress, even their captor. Especially, when she had her harsh past with Ed Peletier. She felt empathy towards the woman as she was once abused, too. She wanted to help somehow, but her arms were still tied.
Suddenly, Maggie lunged forward, using her legs to tackle the man in a desperate attempt to protect Paula. The force of her tackle caught him off guard, and he staggered backward, momentarily stunned. But as he regained his bearings, his anger flared, and he retaliated swiftly. In an instant, he seized Maggie by the shoulders, his grip vice-like. Maggie winced in pain, but she refused to cry out. However, the man's rage was uncontrollable.
Seeing Maggie in danger ignited a surge of adrenaline in Charlie. Without hesitation, she moved in, aiming a swift kick at the man's leg with all the force she could muster. The impact caused him to loosen his grip on Maggie momentarily, giving her a precious moment to break free.
Enraged, the man turned his fury towards Charlie as she tried to help Maggie by kicking him. His eyes blazed with a primal intensity as he directed his violent onslaught towards her. With relentless force, he began kicking Charlie's body, each blow landing with brutal force. Her gritted her teeth against the pain, refusing to give in even as each kick threatened to overwhelm her.
Then, the next thing she knew, the wounded man collapsed on the ground. Charlie turned back and saw Paula panting, furry in her eyes, hiding her gun inside her pocket. "You really are some kind of stupid," the woman sneered, her voice dripping with contempt as she looked at Charlie and Maggie. "Take her out. See if she knows anything."
Charlie's heart raced with panic as the third woman grabbed Maggie roughly and began dragging her towards the door. The room spun with chaos and fear as Charlie struggled to push herself up from the floor.
"No, no, no!" Charlie's voice was weak but filled with desperate determination. Her face pressed against the unforgiving surface, she closed her eyes, blocking out the chaos around her.
Each passing minute felt like an eternity as Charlie grappled with fear and helplessness. She clenched and unclenched her fists, trying not to lose the feeling in them. Her mind raced with a thousand scenarios, each more terrifying than the last.
Carol sat nearby, her own worry etched into every line of her face. They exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. They both felt the weight of responsibility for Maggie's safety, knowing that their actions—or inaction—could determine her fate.
She closed her eyes and started rocking her body, whispering: Mom, dad, Finn, Will, Luke, Pete, Amy, Ed, Jim, Jacqui, Sophia, Dale, Shane, Jimmy, Patricia, Lori, T-Dog, Oscar, Axel, Merle, Andrea, Karen, Zach, Patrick, Hershel, Mika, Lizzie, Bob, Tyreese, Beth, Noah, Deanna...
"Thank you," small voice said from the opposite corner of the room. Charlie opened her eyes and looked at Carol. "For helping us. My husband Ed, used to..."
"Yeah?! I don't care!" Paula yelled. "Because I see exactly who you are, Carol. You're pathetic. You want to think we're just the same? You're wrong. He's just a warm body for my bed. I could kill him in his sleep," she said as she looked down at the cross in Carol's hands. "Do you really believe in that crap?"
"My faith got me through the death of my daughter..."
"Well, good news is maybe you'll see her again soon." she spat. "And that would be the best option when W or his father come here."
Then the room fell silent.
Charlie sat quietly, her back against the cold stone wall, her eyes closed. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon her. She heard Paula calling Rick over the radio. Charlie strained to catch the words, her mind racing with questions about their fate and the safety of her friends.
"You don't have to do this. You don't have to fight."
"Your people killed all of my people. Of course we got to fight."
"But you did. So tell me why."
"Your people ambushed my people on the road. Tried to take everything we had. They were gonna kill them."
"So now we know what happened to T's group...Idiots. Probably put on a big show." she scoffed. "Okay. Fair play." she shrugged. "You were just defending yourselves. Buy, see, your people killed them on the road, right? So why not stop?"
"They said they were working for Negan."
Charlie's heart sank as she listened to Paula's cryptic response. The words "We are all Negan" echoed in her mind, sending a chill down her spine. It was clear that Paula and her group were deeply entrenched in something sinister, something far larger and more dangerous than she had imagined.
"What does that mean?" Charlie's voice trembled slightly as she dared to voice her confusion and fear.
Paula's cold gaze flicked towards Charlie, her expression unable to read. For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, Charlie held her breath, waiting for an answer that never came.
The realization hit her hard—they were not dealing with ordinary bandits or survivors. Paula's allegiance to this mysterious Negan, whoever he was, hinted at a dangerous community, one that could threaten their lives and their chances of escape.
Charlie glanced at Carol, whose eyes mirrored her own concern and apprehension. They were in deeper trouble than they had realized, caught in the midst of forces they didn't fully understand.
Time had slipped by, the minutes and hours blurring together in the dimly lit room. Charlie's eyes, weary yet vigilant, fell upon the man slumped in the middle of the room between her and Carol. The wound, left untreated, had worsened, and she knew it was only a matter of time before his body gives up to the infection, and it will turn him into a walker.
Especially that he wasn't breathing anymore.
The realization hit her with a jolt of dread. They were trapped in this small, confined space, and the imminent threat of a walker among them added a new layer of urgency to their predicament. Charlie's heart pounded as she glanced at Carol, who was still clutching the cross, her face a mask of worry and determination.
"Can I have one?" Carol asked looking at the cigarette in the older woman's mouth.
"I didn't know you approved, little bird." the old woman said.
Molly leaned in and gave Carol one of cigarettes, lightning it quickly.
"Why are you so afraid of?" Paula leaned to Carol. "You can't even stick to your own principles."
"You don't want me to stick to my principles," Carol mumbled.
"And look at you. You're no longer so mouthy." she said to Charlie, and she said nothing. "I was a secretary before. I fetched coffee for my boss. And made him feel good about himself. There was this one inspirational email...A young woman was having a hard time and she told her mother she wanted to give up. So her mom went to the kitchen and started boiling three pots of water. She put a carrot in one, an egg in the other, and ground coffee beans in the last one. Her mom said: Look, all three things went through the same water. Carrot went in strong and came out soft. The egg was fragile and came out hard. But coffee beans changed the water itself." she recite from her memory, stopping in her tracks for a moment. "You're supposed to want to be coffee beans. For me, coffee was just a thing my boss would drink up. I was at work when the army took over D.C. We weren't allowed to leave. Only important people. I was stuck with my boss. Not my family. My husband. My four girls."
As Paula recited the story, Charlie's mind wandered to her own experiences, the hardships she had faced and the losses. She could relate to the feeling of being powerless, of having to reinvent herself over and over again to fit the expectations of the new world. But unlike Paula, Charlie still held onto a sliver of hope, a belief that there was more to life than just surviving.
Paula's eyes, once filled with a mixture of disdain and indifference, now held a flicker of vulnerability as she spoke about her past. Charlie realized that beneath the tough exterior was a woman who had been forced to abandon her old self to navigate the harsh realities of the world.
"My boss was weak and stupid. He was the first person I killed so that I could live." she said. "Do you remember your first kill?"
"Yes," Charlie nodded, almost hearing Lori's screams.
"And how many people have you killed?" she asked further.
"Four," Charlie did a quick math in her head.
"I stopped counting when I hit double digits. And I don't even feel bad about it. I am not like you," she shook her head. "I'm still me. But better. I lost everything and it made me stronger."
"You sure about that?" Charlie asked before she could bite her tongue.
"Yes, Charlie," Paula said and crouched before her. "When you lose everything you become unstoppable. No worries about others. No remorse. No feelings. No fear," she said, looking into her eyes. "You can call me selfish or a monter, but I don't care. I am alive."
Charlie met Paula's gaze, and for a moment, the words sank in. Paula's logic was brutal, but it made a twisted kind of sense. In a world where survival was a daily struggle, cutting off emotions and focusing solely on staying alive seemed like a reasonable way to cope. Charlie wondered if she had been holding on to her humanity too tightly, if she had been too afraid to let go of the past and fully embrace the ruthless reality of their world.
Paula's words also sparked a flicker of doubt. Would she be able to protect the people she loved if she continued to hold on to her emotions? Would she be strong enough to face the horrors ahead? Even now, facing death, she was worried about Maggie, her mind wondered to Andy, and she was regretting things she hadn't said to Daryl.
"With those people? Those killers?" Carol asked with a voice filled with disgust.
"Your people are killers, Carol," Paula said turning to her. "That makes you a killer."
"You," said Carol after a moment of silence. "You're the one."
Charlie furrowed her eyebrows, glancing between Carol and Paula, confused by Carol's sudden outburst.
Carol took a deep breath, her gaze unwavering as she looked at Paula. "You're the one who's afraid to die. And you're going to. You will die. That's gonna happen, if you don't work this out."
"Are you going to kill me?" Paula asked as if she hadn't been threatened just a second ago. "Or maybe your panicked daughter?"
After Carol's words the room felt colder, the air heavy with tension. Everyone could hear the wires in Paula's head turning as he was analyzing every one of them.
"Asshole," Paula said as she picked up the radio. "We want to make the trade."
"There's a large field with a sign that says: God is dead."
"We will meet you there. Ten minutes?"
"Ten minutes." she agreed, and Charlie's heart almost melted with relief - there was a hope for them. But after hanging up, Paula shook her head. "It was too easy."
"Maybe they're itching to get their people back," Molly shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing.
"No, there was no static. They are close. They are probably already here," Paula said. "We were careful but there were tracks, there had to be. They killed everyone back home. They have weapons, they know what they're doing. They want to kill us."
"No," Carol protested. "You have to listen to me, please," she cried. "Rick is a man of his word. He wouldn't put us...put Maggie at risk to attack."
"Then he's just as stupid as you are," Paula scoffed and then she picked up the radio, changing the channel. "What's your ETA?"
"A few minutes away, but the car's running on fumes."
The voice. The one that answered her.
Charlie froze. That voice—it was familiar. She had heard it somewhere before, but she couldn't place it. Her mind raced, trying to connect the dots, but the more she tried to focus, the more elusive the memory became. Was it just her mind playing tricks on her, or was there a deeper significance to this voice?
"We have gas. We'll fill you up and then we move. Radio when you're back in the perimeter."
After that, Paula and Molly began to prepare to leave, their movements hurried and tense. The air was thick with the sense of impending danger. Charlie watched them, her heart pounding in her chest. Their captors' nervous energy was palpable, amplifying the uncertainty that hung over them all.
When the women finally left the room, Carol took a deep breath, and her facial expression changed completely. Gone was the fearful, frail woman who had been pleading for mercy. In her place was the steely, determined Carol that Charlie knew so well.
Charlie blinked, a realization dawning on her. It had all been an act. Just like when they first arrived in Alexandria, Carol had been playing a role. Her fear, her weakness—it had all been a carefully constructed façade to deceive their captors.
"And the Oscar goes to..." whispered Charlie. Carol's eyes met Charlie's, and a flicker of a knowing smile passed between them. Charlie felt a surge of admiration and relief. She had been in control the whole time, biding her time and waiting for the right moment to strike.
Moving swiftly but cautiously, they crept out of the room, their senses on high alert for any signs of their captors. The dim lighting and eerie silence of the building heightened their anxiety, but they pressed on, driven by their mission. They navigated through the maze of hallways, pausing occasionally to listen for any sounds. Charlie's heart pounded in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm, drawing strength from Carol's unwavering presence beside her.
Together, Charlie and Carol carefully helped Maggie remove the tape from her wrists, once they found her in one of the rooms. Maggie winced slightly as they peeled it away, but she managed a relieved smile once her hands were free.
"Is everything okay?" Charlie asked softly, her concern evident.
Maggie nodded, her hand instinctively resting on her belly. "Yes, we're okay," she replied, her voice steady despite what they had just endured.
"Good," Charlie said with a gentle smile, relieved to see Maggie safe.
Carol's voice broke the momentary silence. "They spread out, but I think we can pass them."
"We can't leave them like that," Maggie said stubbornly.
"Maggie, we better just go." Charlie said, having enough of the things she went through today.
"No. We have to finish this. We have to." Maggie protested.
Charlie watched Carol closely. There was a subtle change in her demeanor, a weariness that hadn't been there before. Carol's usually steady gait was slightly unsteady, and her shoulders seemed to sag ever so slightly.
Without a word, her friend, turned and started walking away - it was their sign to follow her.
As Charlie, Carol, and Maggie watched in horror, the man who had turned into a walker lunged at Molly and bit into her arm. Charlie felt a knot tighten in her stomach, a mixture of fear and helplessness washing over her. When Maggie swiftly disarmed Molly, taking her by surprise, Charlie's thoughts raced. She knew they needed the gun for protection, but observing Maggie hitting the old woman in her face with the hand of her gun was a scene from the horror movie.
"Let's go," she panted as she got up and the three of them walked outside of the doors.
They hurried through the dark corridors, their footsteps echoing faintly in the silence. The air was thick with tension as they navigated through the abandoned building, every shadow and creak setting their nerves on edge.
As they turned a corner, their path ahead was blocked by a makeshift barricade of walkers. Charlie grimaced, realizing that their captors had strategically placed the undead to hinder their escape and deter any intruders. The trapped walkers moaned and reached out with decaying hands, their presence a grim reminder of the dangers that surrounded them.
"They're using them to keep us in, and to keep others out," Charlie muttered grimly to Carol, her voice barely above a whisper. The gravity of their situation weighed heavily upon them as they assessed their options.
"Come on, we have to find them."
"No, we don't," Charlie said kneeling on the ground. They all knew who was shooting at them, as she must have seen her comrades dead in the room.
Suddenly, Carol got up with outstretched arm as she was the one holding the gun. "Just run."
"Shoot her," Maggie said immediately.
"Go on. Do it," Paula said confidently. "You've killed Donnie. You've killed Molly. Your people have destroyed my home."
"Get out of here," Carol whispered, aiming at Paula.
Watching Carol closely, Charlie saw glimpses of empathy in her eyes, even as they navigated the treacherous surroundings. It struck Charlie that Carol wasn't just a survivor; she was a victim of her own psychological game. Charlie understood that her compassion ran deep, perhaps seeing a reflection of her own vulnerabilities in Paula's actions.
"You have no idea the things I've done," Paula said walking closer and closer to the three women."What I've given up...what I had to do."
"Just run," Carol almost begged the woman.
"Carol, shoot her," Maggie's voice got stern.
"Go ahead. I've already lost everything."
Charlie's heart pounded as she watched Carol stumble forward, startled by the sudden attack of the walker that had managed to break free. The adrenaline surged through her veins as instinct took over, driving her to swiftly intervene and protect her friend.
Without thinking she caught a knife that Maggie threw her, and with a swift motion, Charlie killed a walker. Her moves were automatic as if she was doing this her whole life.
As the immediate danger subsided, they caught the voice of their third captor calling out for Paula or Molly, unsure of their whereabouts. Without hesitation, Maggie moved swiftly towards Michelle, aiming to settle whatever score remained between them.
"Carol," Charlie called out urgently. "Give me the gun."
"I can't," Carol replied, her voice trembling with uncertainty. She wasn't sure what Charlie intended to do, and the fear in her eyes was palpable.
In the distance, Charlie could hear the sounds of a struggle and Maggie's desperate screams. Her heart pounded in her chest, anxiety tightening its grip around her. "Give me the gun!" she repeated, more forcefully this time.
Reluctantly, Carol handed over the weapon, her hands shaking. As soon as Charlie had the gun in her grip, she sprinted towards the source of the commotion. Her mind raced, adrenaline fueling her movements.
She burst into the room just in time to see Maggie being overpowered by Michelle. Without hesitation, Charlie aimed the gun and pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot echoed through the space, and Michelle's body crumpled to the floor, lifeless.
"Five," Charlie whispered to herself.
Maggie, Charlie, and Carol exchanged hurried glances, their hearts pounding with urgency as they made a silent pact to run. They took a few swift steps forward, only to find Paula blocking their path with a determined gaze. Her presence halted them in their tracks, each of them tense and ready for whatever would come next.
"I'll do it," Carol said, spreading her arm in expectation to feel the cold gun.
With a heavy heart, Charlie gave back what Carol wanted. She trusted that her friend would he able to do what she should.
"You're good," Paula laughed. "I believed you."
"I told you to run," Carol tried to explain.
"If you could do all this, what were you so afraid of?"
Carol walked towards Paula slowly, her expression somber yet resolute. "I was afraid of this," she murmured, her voice tinged with regret and a hint of sorrow.
The ginger started to laugh.
Charlie's heart raced as Paula knocked the gun from Carol's grasp with a swift, calculated strike. The metallic clatter echoed in the tense silence, and her mind raced with worry for her friend. Paula moved with surprising ease, her movements fluid and precise as she engaged Carol in a fierce struggle.
Charlie's thoughts raced as she watched the intense exchange. Before she could reach for the gun, amidst their struggle, a low growl echoed through the room. Charlie's eyes widened in horror as a walker lunged towards Paula. The chaotic scene took a chilling turn as the walker sank its teeth into Paula's face.
As Carol's shoulders trembled as silent tears streamed down her face, the crackle of the radio broke the tense silence, "We're approaching the perimeter. Do you copy?"
Charlie's eyes darted towards the radio, her heart skipping a beat. Without hesitation, she reached out and grabbed the device, her fingers trembling slightly with adrenaline. She brought the radio close to her mouth, taking a deep breath before responding, "Meet us on the kill floor."
Her voice was steady, masking the unease and urgency she felt inside. She crossed eyes with Maggie, who was still in shock of what happened.
Back in the dense cover of the woods sat Rick and his group, their faces marked with tension and exhaustion. The plan had been to wait for contact from Paula, to negotiate a trade and bring their people back safely. But as the hours dragged on, doubt and worry gnawed at them.
Rick glanced at his watch, the minutes ticking by agonizingly slowly.
Daryl paced back and forth, his crossbow slung over his shoulder. Glenn was getting more and more irritated at his friend and at the situation he was in. “They’re in danger.”
"I understand how you both feel. Believe me, I do. But rushing in without a plan could get them killed. We need to be smart about this."
Suddenly, Andy, who had been sitting quietly nearby, stood up abruptly, his face pale and eyes wide with panic. "No! No, we can't wait! We have to go in now!"
"No, you listen!" Andy cut him off, his breathing rapid and erratic. "You don't get it! They're in there, and something could be happening to them right now! We have to go in!"
Rick stepped forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Andy, I know you're scared, but—"
"Scared? Scared?" Andy's voice rose to a near scream. "This isn't about being scared! It's about doing something! Anything! We can't just sit here!"
Glenn moved closer, trying to reach out to Andy. "Hey, hey, calm down. We're all worried, but freaking out isn't going to help anyone."
But Andy was beyond reason. He started pacing, his hands shaking uncontrollably. "We have to go in! We have to go in now! We can't just sit here!"
“You need to calm down."
The young man turned on him, his eyes wild. "Calm down? How can I calm down? How you can be so calm?They're in there! They need us!"
"Andy, we're going to get them out. But we have to do it the right way,” Rick repeated. “If we go in without a plan, we could all end up dead."
Andy shook his head violently. "No! No, I can't wait. I can't. I have to do something!"
"We're going to get them out. We just need to be smart about it. Remember, Maggie's tough. Carol and Charlie, too. They'll hold on until we can get to them,” Glenn said in the calmest voice possible. “But we need you to keep it together so we can all make it out alive."
"But what if they're hurt? What if—"
But Daryl, standing to the side with his patience running thin, saw that it wasn't enough. Besides, Andy’s reaction was only making him more freaked out and willing to find the place they were keeping the girls and kill anyone in his way. He stepped forward, his voice rough and commanding. "Enough with the soft talk, Glenn. Boy, get a grip!" Daryl grabbed Andy by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. "This ain't helping anyone, least of all them! You wanna save them? You keep your head straight and stick to the damn plan!"
"No buts!" Daryl snapped, his voice a growl. "You think you're the only one worried? We're all scared! But running in there without a plan is gonna get us all killed. You get that? You wanna help? Then pull yourself together and follow orders!"
Andy swallowed hard, his panic slowly giving way to a sullen, tense silence. He nodded shakily, clearly still distressed but no longer on the verge of losing control.
"Come on, Andy," Tara placed her hand on his shoulder and pulled him away from the three men.
"Good,” Rick nodded at Tara. "Now let's regroup and figure out our next move."
Tara helped him sit down, crouching in front of him to maintain eye contact. Andy looked at her, his eyes wide with anxiety, but he let her lead him to a large rock nearby.
"Breathe," she instructed, her voice calm and steady. "In and out. Focus on your breath."
He tried to follow her instructions, his breaths coming in ragged at first but gradually slowing down. Tara stayed with him, her presence a grounding force in the midst of his panic.
"We're gonna get them back," she reassured him, and he was nodding his head.
Couple steps away stood Abraham, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to the conversation unfolding between Rick, Daryl, Glenn, and Andy. His face was set in a deep frown, worry lines creasing his forehead without him even noticing. He could feel the tension in the air, and it gnawed at him, making his gut churn.
Sasha noticed Abraham's troubled expression and walked over to him, her steps deliberate and calm. "You look like a bomb, ready tu burst.”
The man grunted, not taking his eyes off the group. "This ain't sittin' right with me, Sasha. We're wastin' time, sittin' here flappin' our gums while our people are out there, maybe hurt, maybe worse."
“You aren’t so worried about them,” she shook her head, looking at him.
“If Charlie’s there I know that Maggie and the baby are save,” he answered. "But she's the last person to kidnap. She runs her tongue and can't be quiet for her own damn good. She’s the first one to get herself killed, and I know something about it. And she's...She's still weak."
“If she lives…somehow,” Abraham interrupted her. “I’ll kill her.”
“You really like her,” Sasha smiled.
She shrugged. “For a person, who claims to be unlikeable she has rather large numbers of people worried about her.”
“Hmm,” Abraham smiled. “She’s a good girl. You should trust her more…Your brother did.”
“And look where he is now,” Sasha mumbled under her breath, but he heard. His piercing eyes landed on her and Sasha had nothing more but to sigh. “If she’s out or this…which I’m sure she will…I’ll try to trust her.”
Abraham smiled gratefully and placed his hand on the woman’s back. Then he looked on front of him, repeating that Charlie is a soldier, a survivor, and she’ll come back save and sound.
After rather long time, Daryl approached Rick, his steps deliberate and his expression tense. He needed to talk to Rick, to convince him that they couldn't wait any longer, but he was careful not to reveal too much. Despite the urgency, he didn't want to betray the depth of his feelings for Charlie. "Rick," Daryl said, his voice low as he came to a stop next to their leader. "We gotta do something now. We’ve been sitting here enough."
Rick looked up from the map he was studying, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I know you're worried, Daryl. But we need to stick to the plan."
"This ain't about me bein' worried,” he protested. “It's about gettin' 'em outta there before it's too late."
"Sure it is,” said amused Rick, who despite being worried, found this situation hilarious. “You know, you could just say it. We all know how you feel about Charlie."
Daryl shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms over his chest. "Ain't nothin' to say. Just don't wanna lose more people."
"Of course,” Rick nodded. “But just so you know, it's okay to care. We're all in this together, and we all have people we can't bear to lose."
Before Daryl could respond, his radio crackled to life. Paula's voice came through, sharp and authoritative. "Asshole. We want to make the trade."
"That's good." Rick nodded, looking at Daryl.
"There's a large field with a sign that says: God is dead."
"We will meet you there," Grimes answered. "Ten minutes?"
"Alright people, let's go!" Rick yelled and signed to his group that it's time for the action.
Time seemed to blur as they finally stepped out of the grim building, the weight of what had happened pressing heavily on Charlie's mind. She felt numb, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and shock. The memory of having to kill Paula after she turned into a walker, along with the others that had trapped them, haunted her.
Charlie's gaze was distant, her steps heavy with exhaustion and the emotional toll of the recent events. The fresh air outside did little to clear her mind. As they walked, she replayed the horrifying moments over and over, the images of Paula and the walkers seared into her memory.
Charlie's gaze drifted upward, breaking free from her turbulent thoughts. She saw Glenn wrapping his arms around her tightly, holding her as if he'd never let go. Maggie clung to him, her own relief evident as she buried her face in his shoulder.
She turned her head once she heard a familiar voice, and saw Daryl approaching Carol, his expression a mix of concern and determination."You are okay?" he asked, holding the woman's shoulder. "You start a fire?"
Daryl's eyes widened when he spotted Charlie standing a bit further back. He quickly closed the distance between them, his face a mixture of relief and concern.
"Hey!" Daryl called. She felt his rough hand on her cheek. "You good?"
"Come here," he said and pulled her to his chest, squeezing to his body. Feeling the solid warmth of Daryl's embrace, Charlie allowed herself to lean into him, the tension slowly fading away.
Daryl nodded, his shoulders visibly relaxing. For the first time since they had been separated, he allowed himself a deep breath, the relief palpable. "We stick together from now on," he said, his voice firm with determination. "No more getting separated."
She couldn't answer as her throat squeezed at his words. Charlie just nodded in response, wrapping her arms tighter around Daryl. The comfort of his presence was almost overwhelming.
Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie saw Andy standing a few steps behind Daryl, his shoulders sagging with visible relief. She gently pushed Daryl away and moved towards Andy, her eyes filling with tears of relief and joy. Andy opened his arms wide, and Charlie rushed into them, hugging him tightly."I'm sorry," Andy cried.
"It's alright." she said, his voice choked with emotion.
As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the horrors of the day seemed to fade just a bit. Charlie turned at the sound of Rick's voice cutting through the air. His tone was firm."Your friends are dead," Rick said to the man. "No one's coming for you."
"I don't...He should be here..."
Charlie observed the man, Paula's friend, standing amidst the aftermath with a mixture of shock and disbelief etched across his face. His gaze moved from one empty spot to another. The weight of loss and the reality of his situation were palpable in his expression.
"What?" Rick furrowed his eyebrows. "You might talk now."
"I'm gonna ask you one last time. How'd you get the bike?"
"We found it." the man whispered.
"Like hell you did!" answered angry Daryl.
"Was Negan in that building last night, or was he here?"
"Both." the man said, and reconciled his courage as he realized that he lost everything."I'm Negan, shithead. There's a whole world of fun that we can talk about."
Rick's jaw tightened at the answer. Charlie could read it his eyes that Grimes was understanding that their actions of today will definitely get back on them somehow. "I'm sorry it had to come to this."
Charlie's stomach churned with a sickening mix of emotions as she processed the aftermath. She leaned against a nearby wall, closing her eyes briefly to steady herself. The weight of their actions pressed heavily on her conscience, each decision made in the heat of survival now casting a long shadow of doubt.
The world was nothing like it used to anymore.
Late at night, Charlie coming back to her house as she was in the infirmary, being observed by Denise. When she was close enough, she saw Carol sitting alone in a corner of their porch.
Carol, usually a pillar of strength, seemed smaller somehow in the dim light. Charlie knew that beneath her stoic exterior was still the woman from the quarry - a scared mother and wife. It reminded Charlie that she wasn’t the only one who was fighting her demons and trying to find a way to live.
As she debated approaching Carol, Charlie hesitated, unsure if words could offer solace or if silence would be more comforting. After a moment of hesitation, Charlie sat down beside her. "Carol," she said softly, breaking the silence.
The woman looked up, her eyes reflecting a mix of weariness and relief. "Hey," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
"How are you holding up?"
Carol let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I don't know," she admitted quietly. "Today... it was rough."
"Yeah," Charlie nodded in agreement, remembering the chaos and danger they had faced just hours ago. "We've been through a lot."
Silence settled between them again, broken only by the distant sounds of Alexandria settling into its nighttime routine. Charlie glanced at Carol, wanting to offer comfort but unsure of what to say.
"I think I might have killed 18 people," said Carol into the night. "20...I should have killed Donnie, too, in the woods."
"That was on me," Charlie answered.
"I had a clean shot," she shook her head. "I should have done that."
"I don't get shocked," she argued. "None of this would've happened if I had just killed him."
"Don't think about it," Charlie murmured.
"I can't stop," Carol replied, her gaze distant.
"It's already in the past, Carol," Charlie reassured, her eyes reflecting empathy for her friend's turmoil. She knew the weight of memories and decisions lingered heavily on her mind, especially after the day's trials.
"I know," she admitted quietly, her voice tinged with regret. "But I can't help but wonder if things could have been different."
Charlie reached out, gently placing her hand on Carol's arm. "You did what you had to do," she said with conviction. "We all did. And we're here now."
"I just... sometimes I wish..."
"I know," Charlie interrupted softly, squeezing Carol's arm gently. "But dwelling on 'what ifs' won't change what happened. We have to focus on what's ahead of us."
"I think we reached our limit," Carol said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of exhaustion.
Charlie studied Carol's face, recognizing the lines of worry etched deeper than usual.
"It feels like we're constantly pushing forward, trying to survive," Carol continued, her tone tinged with frustration. "But no matter how hard we try to leave the past behind, it catches up with us."
Charlie nodded in understanding, her own thoughts mirroring Carol's sentiments. She had seen the toll it took on everyone, the compromises they made, the sacrifices they endured to protect what was left.
She wrapped her arms around Carol, holding her friend close. "I just want to run away from all of this," Carol confessed softly, her voice tinged with weariness and vulnerability.
Charlie tightened her embrace, offering silent support. She understood Carol's sentiment all too well. The constant struggle for survival, the difficult decisions they faced daily—it was enough to wear down even the strongest among them.
"I know," Charlie murmured, her voice gentle yet filled with empathy.
The quiet creak of the door opening drew his attention. He didn't need to look to know it was Charlie. Her presence was a familiar comfort, a reminder that not everything in this world was lost. He listened as she moved quietly, her footsteps soft and careful. His eyes were closed, but he was far from asleep, lost in the thoughts.
Carefully, Charlie laid down beside him, her body instinctively seeking the warmth and reassurance of his closeness. She turned her head to look at him, studying the lines of his face softened in the dim light filtering through the window. With a sigh, she thought about how close they had come to danger earlier. The fear of losing him had gripped her heart like never before. It was in that moment, lying beside him, that she realized she could have died today without fully expressing her feelings.
"Daryl," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet room.
The words hit him like a jolt. He hadn't expected it, hadn't prepared to hear them. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of surprise, warmth, and a profound sense of belonging.
She waited, her heart pounding in her chest, unsure of what his response would be.
His gaze met hers. Daryl felt a rush of emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel. Love was something he had always struggled with—expressing it, accepting it. But it was Charlie.
Words had never been his strong suit, so he didn't say it back. But he wanted her to know, to feel what he felt. Without a word, he reached out, his rough hand gently brushing against hers, squeezing it lightly.
In that quiet moment, lying together in the aftermath of chaos, Charlie felt a sense of peace. She had laid bare her heart, risking everything, and in return found solace in his silent presence. They didn't need words to affirm what they already knew— what they had was a rare and precious gift.
