[ Carol's silent, picking at her stew. She doesn't know what she wants. Is bottling it up really that bad? She's bottled up so much else in her life, why not this?
Because that had always worked out so well, right?
She shakes her head, still gazing down at her food. He's right that he's just about the last person she'd think to seek out to talk to. About anything. But he also hadn't been there, a hallucination or deception cooked up just to torment her specifically. She hadn't had to watch him cutting pieces off of her while she screamed in pain and begged him to stop.
She can't say the same for Rick and Daryl.
A shudder goes through her at the memory, and she curls her foot protectively under her chair, tucking her right hand securely into her lap. Logically, she knows that she's safe. That it's over. That it had never really been Rick or Daryl or Ezekiel torturing her.
But there's a big difference between knowing that and believing it.
A single tear trickles down her cheek, and she makes a quiet, unhappy sound, raising her hand again to wipe it away. ]
Talking won't fix it.
[ It's a harsh, angry half-whisper, the first hint she's shown of her old self. ]
[ They're both old enough to know there's no magic fix to problems. It's all about how strong your will is in these apocalyptic days to keep you together, to keep you from breaking. But hell has clearly targeted Carol. It knows she's damn stronger than most and is doing whatever it takes to get to her.
He eyes the tear and its descent down her cheek. One tear. The others seem to be repressed. ]
But it could help fix you.
[ Those words linger as he takes a bite before continuing on. ]
The more you hold it in, the faster this place is gonna get to you. Like I said, maybe I'm not the guy you wanna talk about this shit to. But you also know I'm good for my word. I didn't tell Daryl or Rick what I saw in that haunted house. I won't tell 'em this either.
[ She looks up at him when he mentions the haunted house. They'd both seen more than they wanted to there, more than they'd have ever wanted anyone else to see. But he's right. Whatever he'd thought of her after seeing that, however disgusted and horrified he may have been at what she'd done, he'd kept it to himself. And she realizes with a little bit of surprise that she has every intention of doing the same. He hadn't asked her not to tell anyone about his wife, or the nightmare they'd gone through together. But she knows she never will.
They're not friends. But maybe she can tell him a little. Maybe it'll even help.
She hesitates a moment longer, and then reaches up, pulling back the side of her robe to reveal the spiral tattoo on her upper chest. ]
I got caught.
[ She closes her eyes, draws in a deep breath. Makes herself say it out loud. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
never <3
Because that had always worked out so well, right?
She shakes her head, still gazing down at her food. He's right that he's just about the last person she'd think to seek out to talk to. About anything. But he also hadn't been there, a hallucination or deception cooked up just to torment her specifically. She hadn't had to watch him cutting pieces off of her while she screamed in pain and begged him to stop.
She can't say the same for Rick and Daryl.
A shudder goes through her at the memory, and she curls her foot protectively under her chair, tucking her right hand securely into her lap. Logically, she knows that she's safe. That it's over. That it had never really been Rick or Daryl or Ezekiel torturing her.
But there's a big difference between knowing that and believing it.
A single tear trickles down her cheek, and she makes a quiet, unhappy sound, raising her hand again to wipe it away. ]
Talking won't fix it.
[ It's a harsh, angry half-whisper, the first hint she's shown of her old self. ]
no subject
[ They're both old enough to know there's no magic fix to problems. It's all about how strong your will is in these apocalyptic days to keep you together, to keep you from breaking. But hell has clearly targeted Carol. It knows she's damn stronger than most and is doing whatever it takes to get to her.
He eyes the tear and its descent down her cheek. One tear. The others seem to be repressed. ]
But it could help fix you.
[ Those words linger as he takes a bite before continuing on. ]
The more you hold it in, the faster this place is gonna get to you. Like I said, maybe I'm not the guy you wanna talk about this shit to. But you also know I'm good for my word. I didn't tell Daryl or Rick what I saw in that haunted house. I won't tell 'em this either.
no subject
They're not friends. But maybe she can tell him a little. Maybe it'll even help.
She hesitates a moment longer, and then reaches up, pulling back the side of her robe to reveal the spiral tattoo on her upper chest. ]
I got caught.
[ She closes her eyes, draws in a deep breath. Makes herself say it out loud. ]
Tortured.