Nox: This takes place during season 3, when Carol and T-Dog are separated from the group in the prison. Wrote this a long time ago, so I cleaned it up. If you read the old one, the ending will be different from the old version.

Rated Mature: for brief scenes of Child Abuse and Language.

Disclaimer: The Walking Dead and all affiliates belong to Robert Kirkman and AMC.

Don't Forget Me

He was gone.

" My granmomma used to make this sweet potato pie. " T-Dog had this far-away look on his face, his voice getting real soft. The group was huddled around the fire, the cold pressing in on them from all sides. They huddled together, for warmth, their bodies seeking each other without any thought or care. It was cold and it was only just the beginning of winter now. They shared a can of corn and green beans between the ten of them. Each of them hesitated longer than needed, staring down into the cans, wanting to take just one more bite but knowing they couldn't. That food had to be enough for them all.

He'd been torn apart by the Walkers. He'd done it for her.

That was all she could think about as she jogged down the hall, and turned another corner. The walkers were relentless. Never many, but always there. She didn't know how much further she could. The prison seemed endless and she was lost, beyond knowing where she had come from or what halls she'd already been down. She was too exhausted to take note of those things, and she cursed herself for it.

" It was the sweetest thing on earth. I loved that pie. I loved my gramma. " T-Dog's face twisted up in a smile, remembering that sweet potato pie. Remembering his grandmother. Carol watched as some of the group in turn closed their own eyes, possibly remembering their own sweet memories of the before. She had none herself.

She was so tired. Tired of running. Tired of watching people die for her, becauseof her. Tears slipped over her cheeks, and she couldn't stop them. It was easier to cry then to be strong. Easier to fall into that weakness and accept that this was how she would find her end. She stopped abruptly, hand to the wall as she bent over, trying to catch her breath. She wanted to drop to the ground and rest. She looked up at the sound of a growl, and watched a walker rise from the ground. She couldn't stop the image of T-Dog being torn apart from flashing across her eyes. She closed her eyes, unable to stop the half-cry that slipped past her lips.

She was supposed to be strong. Things had changed since she had lost Sophia. Since they had survived their first winter through the end of the world. She wasn't just Carol anymore. She was a woman who could take care of the group, who could patch up a severed leg, who could handle a rifle.

She killed for her family.

T-Dog hummed as he took a bite of the corn, passing it along the circle, to Maggie. " Damn do I miss that pie. " Glenn chuckled softly, pulling Maggie closer in his arms, her head falling to his shoulder. Maggie fed him a bite of the corn and passed the can along to Hershel. Carol didn't miss the small smile that passed over Hershel's lips at his daughter.

Her family.

Where were they? Why hadn't they come looking for her? Did they think she was dead? Did hethink she was dead? Did he not care like she thought he might have?

Had he given up on her so quickly?

The walker at the end of the hall was moving towards her, moaning hungrily. She hated the walkers. Hated everything that they had done to the world. They had destroyed what little life had existed. Taken away a world that was beautiful, and bright. Where the thrum of a summer heat was nothing more than that – summer. It didn't mean walkers lurking in the trees, or crowding the single road. It didn't mean looters hanging at the edge of the wood, waiting for an opening. It was a world of desperation.

But she couldn't deny that this new world had given her a new life. New hopes, new dreams, new her. It had taken, and taken, and taken. Her old life, her husband, her daughter.But it had given her something new to love. There was nothing to replace to what she had lost, and what she had gained. There simply was.

" I hate sweet potato pie. " Everyone looked up at Daryl, who sat to Carol's right. He didn't eat the corn but passed the can on to her. She didn't miss the way his eyes avoided hers, the way his fingers danced across the metal to avoid hers. It was something she slipped into the recesses of her mind, for later. Something to remember when she was with him.

They were so close, for warmth, and she knew it must have been awkward for him to be pressed in with everyone. She still couldn't stop her mind from wandering to his leg pressed against hers, or their shoulders grazing each other every time either of them shifted. She hadn't wanted to be touched in a long time, but something about his was acceptable.

" What? " Lori stifled a laugh, a hand holding her belly protectively. Carl didn't bother to hide his laugh, even as Lori elbowed him.

She turned to go back the way she had come because she didn't have the energy to face it. Her knife hung limp in her hand. She had no strength to deal with it. And she was so deep in the prison that screaming out for the others would just draw the walkers to her. But when she turned back she found three walkers slowly making their way toward her. She was surrounded. She couldn't go anywhere but forward.

There was no one to save her this time. No one but herself.

" How can you not like sweet potato pie? " T-Dog pressed, eyes wide with disbelief. Daryl shrugged his shoulders, brushing hers with the action, biting his thumb nervously. Carol caught sight of Rick as he rejoined the group from his perimeter check. His face was grave, something that hadn't gone away for some time now.

" My Mamaw used to make that pie for the ol' man every Thanksgiving. I hated Thanksgiving. My Mamaw only showed up with that pie, on that day, for the ol' man. " Everyone's faces turned down, as if they couldn't grasp what he was saying. Like what he was saying left a sour taste in their mouths. She knew it was just another part of what had made Daryl.

"And I hated my ol' man."

She turned and ran back to the lone walker. She kicked it in the leg, and when it doubled over she knifed it in the head, side-stepping the outreaching hand. Blood squirted out, running down the sides of the head. She couldn't seem to catch her breath, and her limbs were so weak.

" Well you're a damn fool for letting that mean old redneck ruin the best pie ever made, " T-Dog hummed warmly. A small, surprising smile tipped Daryl's lips as he shook his head. He rose to take the next watch.

" Don't matter. I used to rub my ol' coonhounds slobber all over that pie. I sure did love watching the ol' man eat it then. " Carol couldn't help the laugh that burst forth from her. Everyone turned to her then, smiles coming forth now. Daryl looked down on her, the tiniest flicker of light in his eyes. She squeezed his foot as the laughter warmed her up just a little inside.

She wished Daryl were here now. She knew it was selfish of her, knew she should have been stronger, knew that she was. But she couldn't help the thought as it crossed her mind. She wished she were staring at his steadfast back, the slope of his shoulders, the way his sides expanded with each controlled breath instead of staring at the emaciated, pallid shoulders of the walker at her feet.

She wished T-Dog were still here. Wished she could hear his hearty laugh again, or watch him smile. It would light up his face like nothing she had ever seen before, as if he wasn't surrounded by walkers but by a group of friends he'd known all his life. He should never have been bitten.

She turned to the three walkers advancing on her from behind, spread out like a fan. She pulled her knife from the dead walker beneath her and stood, waiting, catching her breath. She was going to have to do this herself.

Don't be thinking about nothin' but the walker in front of ya.

She could hear his voice, keeping her calm, telling her how to kill the walkers. He'd taught her how to protect herself during that long, cold winter. Could still feel his fingers as they brushed, ever so softly, against her own. He'd pushed her feet into position with his own, eyed her stance before grunting, and then pushed on her shoulders. It was a quick motion, something she hadn't expected him to do. She didn't think he'd expected either by the wide-eyed look he had. He'd touched her elbow then, and she raised her arm in response. And he stood to her right, just behind her and told her.

Keep your feet planted. Can't kill nothin' when you're falling on your ass. Two hands out. Ya ain't strong enough yet to do it one-handed. Need more practice with'em. Don't ever let them out of your sight, and you sure as hell better not let them get behind ya.

She turned into the wall at her left and went in fast. Pushed hard against the walker's chest and thrust her knife into its face, right beneath the eye. Blood squirted onto her hands. She pushed the walker into the one behind it, pulling her knife with it. They fell to the floor, a tangle of limbs. The third one ambled towards her faster.

She cried out and pushed at its chest, and pushed and pushed until it stumbled over a body behind it, and fell through a doorway. She didn't wait to see where it had landed, and turned right into the other walker. She screamed once, arm held out before her, pushing against the walker's chest. She heard the snap of its jaw, smelled the stink of its rot breath before pushing her knife up, blindly, hoping she would hit it. The knife caught and it was still pushing at her. She let go of the knife to use both arms to push at the walker. She kicked out, catching it in the leg sending it off balance. She shoved her shoulder against it and used the moment to force her way into the open door, slamming it shut behind her.

She pulled it tight, her arms straining against the weight of the door. She hoped against all hope that the walkers were stupid enough to not figure out how to open the door, because she wasn't going to be able to hold that door closed for much longer.

But that walker tugged at the door, listlessly. She wasn't going to be able to do this. She let loose a cry of frustration, dropping to her knees, her fingers never letting go of that door. She had come all this way only to be eaten in a closet, dying in the arms of a death thing. She didn't want this. Her life was worth more.

And then she saw it, a rusted hunk of metal sitting some feet away from her. She reached out to take it but her fingers fell short.

" Dammit, " she whispered, her eyes burning now. She wouldn't waste T-Dog's death. She couldn't. She let go of that door and dove for the metal, her fingers finding purchase on it. She turned as the door opened slightly, enough for the walkers arm to come reaching through, its head coming next.

She grabbed hold of the handle next, as the walker grabbed tight of her shirt. It started gnashing its teeth, growling at her. And she put all her strength into forcing that metal chunk right through its skull, where it embedded itself. The walker went still and she pried its hand from her shirt, gasping, trying to draw breath. She sat back, arms shaking as the body fell across the doorway, blocking it. She waited, until she couldn't hear own breathing in her ears and the silence of the hall was loud. She should go now, while she still had the chance.

But when she pushed on the door it wouldn't budge. She had nothing left in her. She tried one more time, but her arms gave and she dropped to the ground with finality. She leaned against the wall, hand still on the door.

She was stuck.

Keep your head down. And don't go running around, yellin' your damn mouth off like a fool.

And so she waited. She fell into a fitful sleep, waking at the smallest sound, but unable to stay awake for long after. Exhaustion claimed her. But it wasn't long enough. She woke to darkness, and panicked, sure she was somewhere else.

" Daddy, please, I don't like it! " The closet door slammed in her face, the lock clicking in place. She threw her hands against the door, sweat sliding down her face, mixing with her tears. She couldn't be locked in here. She couldn't. She'd die in the darkness.

"You're gonna stay in there, and think about what I told you. " She fell to her knees, the tears cascading down her cheeks, her sobs the only thing filling the darkness.

" But daddy, " she choked through the door, " I didn't do nothing wrong. " He began slamming his fists on the door, the rattling scaring her back, until she was drawing her knees to her chest, eyes wide, pushing her back against the wall.

" Shut your damn mouth! " She wrapped her arms around her knees, laying her head over them. She began counting to herself, eyes shut tight. " You hear me, you worthless, waste of space! " She began to cry softly.

" You hear me?! "

Carol jerked to the sound of walker feet shuffling outside the door. But she couldn't move. Couldn't find the strength to get up. She didn't know how long she'd been there. How much longer she'd have to wait. Maybe it would be until she finally died, starvation and thirst claiming her. Maybe the exhaustion would take her, letting her die in her sleep. Maybe the walkers would finally figure out how to happen that damn door, and feed on her, someone finally sating their hunger.

She didn't know what day it was, or what time it might be. It was endless hours of walkers shuffling in the distance. She was no longer hungry, or too hungry to feel it. She licked her cracked lips, but found no comfort. She had no saliva to wet them with.

Hours alone to think of all the mistakes she'd made in her life. Hours remembering what her life had been like before this all began. Hours listening to Ed's voice in the back of her mind, whispering all the horrible things he'd ever said to her.

Hours listening to Sophia's quiet voice. Remembering how much she loved her little girl.

Remembering how she had lost her, how she hadn't found her, how she had let her die.

She wanted to cry, felt it welling up in her chest, but nothing would come. And that made her angry, a brief flash of rage, only to be snuffed out by her exhaustion. She didn't even have the energy to be mad, to be mad at herself for not being able to mad.

She wasn't getting out.

" This is because I left you, " she murmured, her voice gravelly. She stared up at the ceiling, imagining the warm, blue sky above her instead.

" Punishment, " she whispered, fingers curling toward her palm weakly. Punishment for all the nights she wished Ed would never come home. Punishment for thinking how vodka and bleach were the same color. Punishment for pills she kept tucked in her drawer.

She thought God had abandoned her when Sophia was taken away from her. Because what God would take a mother's child before it was their time? She was a good woman. She didn't deserve to watch her daughter die. To watch her dead, animated body limp toward her, eyes gray and lifeless.

So she had abandoned God. Left him at the side of the road where she had left her cross necklace and her faith.

A single tear trailed down her cheek as she thought of the others, her new family. Even as she thought of them, of their smiles and laughter, the tears they had shed, the blood they had given. She thought of every single one of them. But they must have thought she was dead.

Even hemust have.

She let exhaustion take over once more, slipping into the darkness, as she listened to Sophia's voice telling her about the new boy who had moved in next door.

She drifted into consciousness as the shuffling in the hallway grew louder. She nearly dismissed it but for the steady rhythm of the movement. That was not the shuffle of walkers. Steady, purposeful, quiet as could be.

It was her family.

She forced herself to wake up, to rise from the darkness that beckoned her. She had to call out, to open the door, to somehow get their attention. But she couldn't find her voice and she wasn't getting up. She reached out, pressing her hand to the door, imagining them as they walked by. The door shifted when she pressed, and a small flicker of hope shifted in her. She pushed on the door and it moved, pushing against the walker and clanging as it hit the wall. Each push, each bang gave her hope.

The door jostled, and not by her hand.

"We'll take care of'em on the way back."

Hisvoice. She nearly cried out in relief if her voice would have let her. She didn't want him to go, didn't want to listen to his feet move past her, taking him away. She couldn't bear this agony. Thiswas punishment. Showing her this small glimpse of hope, only to squash it. All she had left was to push on that door that no one would open. It was all she had.

So she kept pushing.

Pushing for the life she had left behind. Pushing for the daughter she had lost. Pushing for the family she had found. Pushing for -

The door gave way beneath her hand and light flooded in, causing her eyes to shut. But she had to know what had come. Walker or friend?

Daryl.

He stood there, knife in his hand, poised to strike. He was confused for a moment until he registered who she was. And then his face twisted into something she had never seen before. Reliefshone from his eyes. He reached out, cupped her chin. His touch was soft, gentle, as if to reassure himself. It was the kindest touch she had felt in a long time. And she would have cried if she'd had the tears.

He really did think she was dead.

And then his arms were around her, pulling her against him. There was a moment where she felt him linger, as his body quivered briefly. She hadn't been this close to Daryl since the day he had stopped her from going to Sophia, his arms wrapped around her shoulders to stop her. They had held her back then. Now they held her close, pulling her toward him. His heart beat erratically in his chest, the sound of it loud in her ears. His fingers curled against her skin and she knewthat he had been affected by her absence.

She let her head fall to his shoulder as the darkness crept in at the edges of her vision. He was warm as she wrapped her own arm around his shoulders, drawing herself closer. And it was as if she could breathe again.

He had found her.

End Note: Thank you for reading!