AN: This is probably the last story I'll be writing for a while. My hiatus has officially started and I have 6 weeks to get everything ready for the show I'm doing. It's fun though, so I can't complain. With any luck I will have some time to write a few more in between bouts of studio work. Curse my need to write. Anyway, this takes place in Tangent universe CxD2, before Blood is Thicker. Enjoy and promise to miss me as much as you can while I'm gone!

Usual disclaimers apply, I don't own TWD.

Cheers.

-Shazzy

Moving In

It shouldn't have seemed like such a big step, but here it was.

Her fingers shook as she tried to pack her things into her bag. She didn't have much by the way of personal effects. Some clothes. Her own bedding. The tent she'd shared with Sophia. She had gotten rid of Sophia's belongings, it didn't do her any good to continue to hold onto them, and she was convinced that they wouldn't find another young girl wandering about. Besides, if they had to move, who but her would bother to bring a dead girl's belongings?

It was time to move on.

Carol sat quietly in her tent, kneeling on the ground as she folded her laundry. It was something to do, something to keep her mind off of what was happening. She shouldn't have been so nervous, she knew that much. It wasn't like it was permanent, if it didn't work, she would just walk back across the campground. There really wasn't anything to lose.

Besides, she told herself, it made sense to move on. Winter was coming, everyone was worried about it. Nights were getting colder and the tent was too big for her to be alone.

The tent would be packed up, she was the only one who hadn't already moved into another tent, or at least moved closer to the others. She didn't feel quite right about the whole thing, yet at the same time she felt like this was the only move left for her.

She had just finished packing the last of her things into her duffel bag when she heard the familiar footfalls, lighter than most of the others' but just loud enough to be heard.

"Y' ready?" Daryl asked poking his head into her tent.

Carol tried not to cry, she felt like the whole world was moving on without her permission. It was overwhelming. Silently, she nodded, her back still towards the door.

There was a rustle of vinyl as Daryl slipped inside the tent. "Carol, you a'right?" He asked quietly.

Another nod.

Daryl shifted uncomfortably. "You don'... I mean..." He stammered. God damn it was hard to make coherent sentences when he was struggling with the words. "You don't have to leave, if you don't wanna." He managed.

Carol sat silently, taking the thought in. She knew that she didn't have to go anywhere. No one was forcing her to. It was just a nice thought, comforting, right? Someone cared enough to make sure that she was safe, comfortable...

Carol shook her head and stood up, grasping her duffel bag tightly in both hands in case she lost her nerve. She turned to face the rough man standing in her tent and smiled. "No, I want to."

Daryl nodded curtly, he was a man of few words and she made his vocabulary drop off exponentially. He grabbed up her bedroll and tucked it under one arm. Daryl led the way out of the tent, with Carol following close behind.

The two walked quietly across the farm.

Carol was still nervous, what was she expecting to find? Squirrels? She nearly laughed aloud at the thought, but pushed it out of her head. He was rough, but he wasn't uncivilized. Besides, he had made the offer first.

Carol couldn't help but smile. He had his whole life set up on the far edge of the farm. He had found himself the remains of an old house, a crumbling brick and mortar hearth and chimney from when the land was first tilled and settled and he'd made himself at home. His tent was set up just beyond the scraggly tree that shared his side of the yard. A pile of sticks drying in the sun, meant for crossbow bolts and a line, blessedly free from squirrels and tied from the tree to the chimney, completed the scene. Carol smiled further to herself when she noticed the wet clothes hanging from the crumbling chimney – he did his own laundry, it was endearing. Everything had it's place and the whole thing had a natural order about it that made her wonder how long he'd been living like this before the world ended.

Carol took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She felt like a young woman again, moving in with her... boyfriend? Fiance? Roommate? She wasn't entirely sure how to classify their relationship, but it didn't really matter anymore, did it?

Daryl held open the flap of his tent for her. "Make yerself comfortable." He offered with a shrug.

Carol smiled. "Thank you." She replied, ducking into the tent.

He had less than she thought. His bed, a pile of clothes sticking out of his own bag and a few bits and pieces to maintain his crossbow and make traps for small game. No frivolous things, nothing that wasn't useful. At least, not in the tent.

Carol grinned at the messy, unmade pile of blankets and sleeping bags that Daryl called a bed. Despite the fact that everything outside had it's place, it seemed that Daryl wasn't one for 'housework.'

Daryl ducked into the tent behind Carol and set the bedroll down. "You okay?" He asked gently.

Carol smiled and nodded. "Of course." She replied easily. "It's perfect."