AN: The statement that Joe made to Daryl about an outdoor cat thinking he's an indoor cat has been sitting with me all week. Realization dawned on me, as I made a little connection. Cats, nine lives, Carol, and I knew I had to write something to fix the incessant voices in my head. Daryl was in there, pining for Carol, and thus, I had to let him out. I was going to keep most of the focus on Carol, but Daryl ended up wanting to share more about himself.

If you're not a writer, then I suppose I sound completely insane right now, lol. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this. For now, it's a one-shot. If the voices start nagging me again, I might continue it, but don't get your hopes up.

As for my other story, Stay Safe, I was going to work on that, but this popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone. If you're a Caryl shipper and haven't already, you should check it out. (wink wink, nudge nudge) I hope to have the next chapter up either today or tomorrow, hopefully. It's already mostly written, I just have to go through and make it into something that's actually readable. A huge thank you to everyone who has read it so far, and to you, who is reading right now. :)

Enough with the babbling, and onto the story:

"Ain't nothin' sadder than an outdoor cat thinks he's an indoor cat."

Daryl didn't feel the need to answer to the older man, but instead contemplated on the statement he knew was directed at him.

He had always been on the outside, and hadn't minded. That was just the way life was. Some people got to live in nice houses with picket fences, go on vacations and eat fro-yo. Then there were others that were living in trailers, with moms and dads that liked to drink and do drugs and beat their children, who were often left to fend for themselves. Daryl never sat down to a ''home-cooked meal,'' where his family sat around a big table, passing plates and chatting about their day.

Instead, he'd come home from being in the woods, trying to catch a rabbit or squirrel for dinner, hoping his parents wouldn't be home, or at the very least be passed out on the couch in front of the old TV with rabbit ears, and Merle would be out getting into trouble, following in their parent's booze and drug laden steps.

Merle wasn't really that bad though, he was all Daryl had left after his ma burned the trailer down with herself in it, and their dad drove himself into a tree, trying to come home from the bar one night. Daryl didn't know what else to do, so he became his brother's shadow. Dixons didn't go to college. They didn't get the nice cushy, stable jobs that gave a decent paycheck each week. They didn't settle down, get married and have two and a half kids.

Dixons were worthless. That had been beaten into Daryl throughout his life. Dixons were never good enough, they'd never amount to anything. So, he and Merle drifted from town to town, picking up odd jobs, with Daryl having to bail Merle out of jail every so often, and living the only way they knew how, struggling to survive in a world that had never believed in them, or given them a chance.

Then everything went to shit, and it was still him and Merle, still struggling to survive. Then they came upon the quarry, and Daryl recalled how his brother had wanted to steal their supplies. Daryl was hesitant, somehow he had grown up with more scruples than his brother had, more of a conscience. Someone had to bail Merle's ass out of jail all the time, and Daryl couldn't very well do that if he was in there with him.

The quarry.

Carol.

The thought of her hit him with a huge wave of pain. Aside from himself, she was the one that had changed the most, and he'd been there to witness it. She was no longer the meek and timid mouse they had met at the quarry.

"Nine lives, remember?'' Carol's soft voice entered his head.

She wasn't lying when she had said that to him, after begging her with that small, simple phrase to ''stay safe.'' The woman might have had even more lives than that, she'd been through so much.

Beth had said he'd be the last man standing, but she was wrong. He didn't want to be the last man standing. He didn't want to be alone. He could live with being the last man standing, as long as the last woman standing would be by his side.

He knew she had to be alive, somewhere out there. She had been struggling to survive before the turn, just like he had. Her strength had always been there, just like his, but hers was more latent. It was hidden behind Ed's threats, and her fight to keep Sophia safe. She survived the things that were supposed to make a person weak, but they had all just made her that much stronger. They made her more prepared for this new world.

Daryl had to take a bit of pride in that, knowing that he had helped, at least in part, to draw that strength out of her, in much the same way that she forced him to see himself as more than a worthless redneck. Their backgrounds were different, but their damage the same. That's what drew them together, helped them bond so effortlessly.

She had helped him to become acclimated to the group. She made him, for the first time in his life, feel like he belonged somewhere. She made him feel like he was part of a family, part of her family.

That's who Carol was though. She was always looking after everyone. Protecting everyone. Everyone had mistook her pain and suffering for weakness, when it had really been building her up. Building her into something more than what she was, building her into who she was supposed to become. The scars that marred her physically and emotionally had hardened her, but they had also opened her heart further, making it stronger. The pain she had suffered made her more sympathetic, more compassionate.

The combination of these things were what made her strong. She knew what needed to get done, and she did it, always looking after the good of the group, even if it meant she had to sacrifice. Sacrifice her nights to taking care of Judith because Rick had just completely broken down. Sacrifice her portions of food to those she thought needed it more. Sacrificed her few, rare moments of peace making sure everyone else was okay. Making sure that if they needed to talk to someone, she was available.

Everyone had taken her for granted, and he was no exception. He promised himself then and there, that when, not if, he found her, he wouldn't take her for granted as much as had in the past. He would make sure he took greater care of her, like she did for everyone else.

The wave of pain morphed into a wave of hope. She was out there, somewhere, and he would find her. After all, they were going to be the last ones standing.

AN2: I'm not happy with the ending, but can't think of anything better at the moment.

'Til next time...