Gone

Carol's POV

The gates of Alexandria creaked open an hour ago, but now my heart felt heavier than the steel they had swung on.

Nicholas, Eugene, and Tara - still unconscious - had come back, but Athena hadn't. Noah hadn't. Aiden hadn't.

And now, the weight of that truth sat in my chest like a cinderblock, crushing me from the inside out.

Athena was gone.

I pressed a hand to my mouth, swallowing the sob that threatened to escape. It didn't feel real. It couldn't be real. She was family. She was my family. The fierce, stubborn, reckless woman who had fought tooth and nail for all of us. For Daryl.

And now we had to tell him.

Rick stood a few feet away, eyes red-rimmed and wet from grief of his own. He was as devastated as I was, maybe even more, and I could tell he was terrified of what would happen next.

The rest of the group - barring Tara, Sasha and Merle - stood behind us, their faces tear-stained and their hearts broken, both for our fallen sister, and for our brother who was about to fall, too.

Nobody could find Merle. Typical when he's the one his little brother would need more than anyone.

Nicholas was here though, wanting to offer his condolences.

A shout from the watchtower sent a shock through my system.

"They're back!"

Daryl.

Aaron.

The moment I heard it, dread coiled in my stomach like a snake, wrapping tight and unrelenting.

The gates swung open again, and there he was - crossbow slung over his shoulder, sweat and dirt smudging his skin, looking tired but alert. His sharp eyes scanned us all, immediately picking up on the tension.

Then they locked onto me.

His whole body stiffened.

"Where is she?"

No hesitation. No wasted words. He already knew something was wrong.

Rick exhaled shakily and stepped forward. I saw the way his hands trembled at his sides as he walked, how his jaw clenched as he swallowed hard.

His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke.

"Daryl-"

"Where is she!?" Daryl snapped, his voice breaking on the last word.

His chest started to heave, like his body already knew it couldn't bear what was coming.

Then, Rick said it.

"She's gone."

Daryl didn't react at first. He just... stood there. Frozen. Like the words hadn't registered yet. His chest still rose and fell too fast, his hands started to shake, but he didn't move, didn't speak.

I saw the shift in his eyes, though. The way the light drained out of them.

The moment his world collapsed.

Rick stepped in, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, and Daryl didn't fight it. Didn't move.

Didn't do anything.

I walked forward slowly, my heart pounding, and as Rick stepped away, I reached up and cupped Daryl's face. His skin was cold with shock, his blue eyes wide, searching mine like maybe - just maybe - I could tell him it was a lie.

I wished I could.

"Nicholas tried-" My voice cracked. I had to swallow down the grief. "He was too late. I'm so sorry."

He blinked. The world tilted.

Then Daryl dropped to his knees.

I caught him, wrapping my arms around him, holding onto him as he shattered. His fingers clenched into my shirt, his shoulders trembling as he let out a strangled, broken sound that didn't even seem real.

I tightened my grip, pressing my cheek against his hair.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my own tears falling freely now. "I'm so sorry."

The others stood frozen, silent, helpless.

Daryl was the strongest person I had ever known. But right now, he was just a man who had lost his world.

His breathing was uneven against my shoulder, his entire body shaking as I held onto him. His fingers dug into me, like he was afraid letting go would make it real.

But it was real.

Athena was gone.

The weight of it crushed me all over again, and I felt the wetness of his tears against my skin, the ragged way his chest heaved as he struggled to breathe through the pain.

Then, after what felt like forever, his voice came again, raw and broken.

"Where is she?"

My stomach twisted violently. I knew what he meant. Not just gone. He wanted to know where.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

I broke.

The sob tore from my throat before I could stop it, and I clamped a hand over my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut as I shook my head. I couldn't say it.

Rick stepped in, voice hoarse and laced with pain.

"They couldn't bring her back."

Daryl's entire body went rigid.

The air shifted.

And then - he moved.

Before I could react, he lunged past me, charging at Nicholas like a ferocious storm.

"Ya left her there?" he roared, his voice thick with rage and heartbreak as he tackled Nicholas to the ground.

The first punch was devastating. A sickening crack echoed through the street as Daryl's fist connected with Nicholas' jaw, sending blood splattering across the pavement.

Nicholas barely had time to react before Daryl hit him again. And again.

"Ya fuckin' left her!?" His voice was a snarl, but the tears still streaked his face, mixing with the sweat and dirt as his knuckles slammed into Nicholas' skull. "Ya left her there alone!?"

Nicholas tried to scramble away, but Daryl was relentless, grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him up just to slam him back down.

More blood. More violence.

The others rushed in.

Abraham grabbed one of Daryl's arms. Glenn wrapped an arm around his chest, trying to pull him back. Rick was shouting something, but Daryl couldn't hear any of it.

Nicholas was a mess of bruises and blood, wheezing as he tried to get a word out, but Daryl didn't stop. He couldn't.

Athena had died. And in Daryl's mind, this coward hadn't bothered to bring her home.

It took Rick, Glenn, Abraham and even Aaron to finally pry him off. Daryl thrashed violently in their grip, but his body was exhausted, drained by grief and rage.

His knees hit the ground for the second time that night.

Rick knelt with him, arms still wrapped around his chest, holding him in place.

And he broke all over again.

The fight left him in one breath, his sobs raw and unrestrained as he slumped forwards, Rick still clutching him from behind, Daryl's fingers curling into the concrete.

I swallowed hard, wiping my own tears away as I watched him.

Daryl Dixon, the bravest man I'd ever known, was crying like a child.

And there wasn't a damn thing I could do.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the ragged sound of his grief and the sobs of the rest of our family.

Then, finally, he moved.

It was slow, deliberate, like the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders. But he rose.

And without a word, he turned toward the gates.

A lump formed in my throat.

"Where are you going?" I asked, though I already knew.

Daryl didn't stop. Didn't look back.

His voice was quiet but unwavering.

"To bring her home."

A/N: Sorry if any if you cried reading this as much as I did writing it... 😭