OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES DARYL & CAROL

OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES   DARYL & CAROL

They were in the living room, Rick, Michonne, Daryl, Carl, Carol and Judith. Everyone was talking, but Carol wasn't really paying attention, she had Judith in her lap. She held Judith's hands as she tired to stand, but she would ultimately flop back down onto her bottom. Judith grabbed Carol's collar and patted her face, than something unexpected happened.

"Mama" Carol froze "Mama, Mama" Judith repeated. The room grew quiet as they all tuned to look at Judith. Carol felt something tighten in her chest as she looked at the babbling infant smiling back at her.

"Excuse me" she said, as she passed the little girl over to Michonne. She got up and went out the front door to stand on the porch, leaning against one of the posts to give her support. She could feel tears burning at the back of her eyes, but she didn't want them to fall. She heard the door open behind her, and his footsteps approach.

"You okay?"

"Yeah" she responded, but her voice betrayed her, sounding strained and cracked. He came to stand beside her, not touching, but his presence was a comfort.

"When Sophia first called me that I was so happy. She never said Dada, even though experts often claim that it usually a child's first word, but Ed spent very little time with her, so that wasn't much of a surprise. No, it was always Mama, right from the beginning." Daryl was thoughtful for a moment.

"You spend the most time with her, outside of Rick and Carl."

"Yeah, I understand, but it stills hurts." They stood there for a few moments, Carol fighting her emotions, Daryl trying to be supportive, then Carol felt the tears falling unbidden down her cheeks. Daryl put his arm around her, she turned and finally let herself sob upon his shoulder.

(A03)

She needed a hero, so that’s what she became.

Don’t save her, she don’t wanna be saved

(insp)

Girls like her were born in a storm, they have lightning in their souls, thunder in their hearts and chaos in their bones. - Nikita Gill

(insp)

Suffering is a terrible fire, it either purifies or destroys - Oscar Wilde

(insp)

The loneliest people are the kindest, the saddest people smile the brightest, the most damaged people are the wisest, all because they do not wish to see anyone else suffer the way they do.

(insp)