Summary: Stuff was settled. It truly was. But with a loud bang, a thick cloud of choking gas, the sudden screams of Alexandrians claiming they were being attacked, and the fear-gripped sound of his name coming from her lips as they were separated and pushed onto the ground, Daryl Dixon realized that being settled was not necessarily going to be what he had thought it was.

Standard disclaimer for all my stories: My stories are graphic, angsty, frustrating, filled with cliffhangers, drama and foul language. Read at your own risk – medical issues and subsequent bills are not covered by yours truly ;) If you don't like, please don't read. I appreciate reviews and constructive feedback but if you cannot stand the plot, save yourself and me some time and walk away. I don't own The Walking Dead. My stories are better viewed by using the "half screen" option of FFNET.

Arcadia

Prologue

It took three months after the war with the Saviors for shit to get settled.

Yet, it took three more months after that for him to feel like shit was actually settled.

Or as settled as it was ever going to be.

Reconstruction efforts at each of the communities had finally ended. A crucial trade and protection treaty had been established between Hilltop, The Kingdom, Oceanside, and Alexandria, augmented by the division and exchange of the goods recovered from The Sanctuary. The surviving innocent people that had been living at the enemy compound had been re-homed; most of which had joined Alexandria – the community that had been left with the most available space once the war had ended. Sadly, and regrettably so, for many of the folks who had lived there before the war.

Rosita, Sasha, Father Gabriel, Eric, and Tobin had all died. Maggie and Enid had returned to the Hilltop, with Maggie becoming its new leader after Gregory had been killed by the Saviors. Shortly afterwards, Carl had made the Hilltop his new permanent home, no doubt following the other teenager he hung around with. The rest of the Alexandrians had reshuffled the home arrangements; some moving out of their homes to move into new ones, some taking in new members of the community, and some… one person in particular, had simply come back home.

Carol.

She had been in his mind non-stop, more than what he knew it to be typical for him, and more than a sane person would consider it to be appropriate given the great physical and mental costs of their long-lasting fight for freedom. The struggle was real, and it had been escalating exponentially since the loss of the prison, hitting them with one obstacle after another, until it had all collapsed onto itself with the fall of The Sanctuary. There had not been a moment of true peace – an undeniable instant of respite that felt within their grasp. It had been fight after fight after fight, deception after deception, complication after complication, near-death experience after near-death experience, low after low… until now.

Carol.

His eyes had been on her form the entire time the Town Hall meeting had been in session; his mouth shut save for the occasional grunt and the one time he had opened it to ask for something no one had ever imagined the loner archer would want or would dare to request at all. He had asked for a home, all for himself, at the far end of the community, where anyone hardly ever bothered to roam.

As soon as his request had been granted, on the spot and without any opposition, he had nodded his thanks and had headed towards the main exit door of the church. Her slender upper arm had fit perfectly in his large, rugged hand when he had held it on the way out, whispering three words to her that left her shaking with anticipation inside. He was long gone before she had found her voice, her ears tuning out the rest of the Town Hall meeting in favor of his invitation echoing loudly in her mind.

"Meet me there."

This was what he had asked of her – hoped she would agree to do. Hoped, because he would never expect her to do anything just because he asked it. He would never demand it, either. In fact, he would never dream or wish he could force anything out of her.

His heart was practically beating out of him as he slowly approached his brand-new home, following a long day out on a hunt after he had left the Town Hall meeting, and his heart rate only increased when he took note of her. She was there, not opposed to fulfilling his earlier request, patiently sitting on the steps of his porch for who-knew-how-long.

Carol.

They had shared comfortably quiet times before, just the two of them, saying with their silence more than they could put in words. It was not odd to see them hanging out together, even at night; everyone knew the twosome was close. This time it was different; however, for the two of them. They were both very aware of that fact.

He quickened his pace and she shot up onto her feet, their eyes locking onto each other; their chests rising and falling as if they had just finished a marathon. She took the one step back needed to stand on his porch. His fast-walk turned into a sprint. Had they been able to read each other's minds, they would have seen that their thoughts were both in synch. Their last serious talk, with just the two of them, had taken place in what she had called home for a while, on the outskirts of The Kingdom. This time, now that everything had been said and done regarding the Saviors, their next heart-to-heart was to take place in his new home.

He nervously re-adjusted the strap of his crossbow across his chest and took the steps two-at-a-time. He stood before her with a look of purpose on his face, and it was not until then that he realized that she had not come to see him alone.

There was a travel bag lying by the front door.

Her bag.

With her stuff.

She noticed the panicky widening of his eyes when he identified the belongings, his gaze then quickly shifting back to her face with a questioning look. For a second, he feared that she was also feeling the air of settlement, but in a different way than he did, and that she was here to bid him goodbye – that she would leave once more. Thankfully, she saw right through that quick spark of doubt that ignited in his blue orbs, and she was quick to shut it down; nearly stumbling over her rushed words.

"I want to. Here. With you. Do you want to?"

His single response, after processing the true intent behind her words, was to smile.

Yet again, she had read his mind. Yet again, she had known what he had intended to ask her when he had invited her over, without having to say it aloud. For the millionth time, this amazing woman before him had met him in the middle of something he prayed they could both possibly want.

She wanted it. She so wanted it – and she was making sure he knew that only he could fulfill that want.

He slung his crossbow over his head and let it fall to the floor, only to then hold her petite waist in his hands to pull her closer to him; a gesture he had been brave enough to, many times before, only fantasize about until now. His thumbs slowly caressed her stomach over her blouse. She slowly slid her hands up his sleeveless arms, then down his shoulders, until her palms rested firmly against his chest. He was breathing hard, harder than she was, and the tempo increased for both when the shock of his next lovingly-spoken word left her looking like she might pass out in welcomed surprise.

"Carol."

Her name. It was her name – hearing it being uttered by him, for the first time to her face. Coming from his deliciously inviting lips; whispered with such intensity that she felt weak in the knees.

He swallowed hard. His eyes lowered to stare at her lips while his tongue licked his own.

This was it. For him. For her. For them. All it would take now to seal the deal was one kiss. One three-word phrase that he knew would never truly encompass the magnitude of his feelings for her. One honest-to-God confession in the dead of the night. This was it. He could feel it. This was the beginning of the rest of their lives.

Shit was settled. It truly was. But with a loud bang, a thick cloud of choking gas, the sudden screams of Alexandrians claiming they were being attacked, and the fear-gripped sound of his name coming from her lips as they were separated and pushed onto the ground, Daryl Dixon realized that being settled was not necessarily going to be what he had thought it was.

A/N: Hi, all! New writer to this fandom (and recent fan to the show, too). Still learning the characters. Bear with me on that. I'm a Caryl shipper, and this will be a Caryl-centric fic. Please keep that in mind when reading this story. I have only the first chapter ready. It will be posted later, if there's at least one person interest in reading what I've got here.

Fun tidbit: that line, "This was the beginning of the rest of their lives," was written before the title of the season finale was revealed. Coincidence? :P

Thanks for R&R! ^_^