"That's Carol's knife," Daryl said, signalling Oscar and Carl.

Carl looked at it then up at Daryl. "So… she's still alive?"

Daryl glanced at him and shrugged trying to fight off a smile that was creeping up on him. She must be. He turned to Carl and flicked the corner of his mouth up briefly into a slight smile and nodded.

"She is," Daryl decided, now determined. "I know she is."

They continued to walk through the prison, following a brief trail of blood drops when they couldn't follow any more. The blood had stopped but there wasn't anything close by. Daryl tried to ignore the sudden overwhelming fear he felt.

'What if she got bit?' 'What if she's a walker?' 'That's on you.' 'You failed her and her daughter.'

"Shut up!" he whispered to himself, willing the thoughts to stop.

They stopped for a moment. There wasn't a trail anymore. Daryl couldn't pick it up and he sat down on the floor, twirling Carol's knife into the ground. Defeated.

"We could still-"

"Shut up. There's nothing. Just go back to the cell block," Daryl interrupted.

Oscar and Carl looked at each other then turned to leave the other man alone. Daryl sighed and kneaded his eyes. First he was sure she was dead after finding her scarf and now he wasn't sure at all. His shoulders dropped and that was when he heard a whimpering coming from a room down the corridor. He quickly put Carol's knife back in his pocket and picked up his crossbow. Daryl aimed the crossbow in front of him and kicked the door open. Just when he was about to fire, his finger faltered. There she was. Slumped on the floor. Weak. He didn't hear the clang of his crossbow as it fell and he rushed over to her..

"Carol? Carol!" he said desperately, catching her face in both of his hands.

She barely met his eyes, she looked more fragile than ever, but just whispered, "Daryl."

That was all he needed to pull himself together. After slinging his weapon onto his back, he tucked one hand under her knees and another on her back and lifted her.

"It's gonna be alright," he whispered.

He practically ran back to the cell block shouting to everyone inside. They were all roused and Hershel came to his side immediately after he set her on the bed.

After Hershel checked her over and she was fed, she drifted off into sleep and Daryl walked in.

"How is she?" he asked.

Hershel nodded. "She's fine. Only one cut on her leg. It wasn't anything serious. She was just worn out, starving and dehydrated."

Daryl looked at the man on crutches on his way out and nodded. The older man placed a hand on his shoulder then walked away as best as he could. He took up the chair next to her bed and watched her. A few hours later she inhaled deeply and her eyes snapped open.

"Hey…" Daryl said, catching her hand. "It's alright. You're safe."

Carol looked up in disbelief then relaxed, her shoulders falling and breathing returning to normal. "Thank you."

"Ain't nothing."

"You found me and you saved me," she said softly, squeezing his hand. Then a look of realisation swept over her. "What happened? T- Dog… He-"

"I know… I know."

A baby's cry rang out from the main room down before the cells and both of their heads turned towards it.

"Was that-"

Daryl nodded. "New baby. Sophia."

He didn't miss the look of adoration on her face. It was almost motherly again. Then it took on a hard quality.

"Lori… How's Lori? I- I wasn't there…"

Daryl shook his head. Carol saw and a tear fell down her cheek.

"Hey, it's okay," he said, wiping the tear away with his thumb. He held his hand against her cheek and caressed it with his thumb a little longer before saying, "There was nothing you could do. Don't beat yourself up over it." The look on Carol's face didn't seem like she would ever get over it. "Get some rest."

Carol nodded as he pulled the blanket over her shoulders, vaguely aware that their hands were still joined.