Daryl was obsessed with her. He couldn't explain, why he couldn't stop touching her. That wasn't him. But there he was, stroking every inch of her skin he could reach.

Normally he walked away, when the sex was over. When he was satisfied, he was gone. No cuddling. Nope. Not for him. An itch to scratch. That was it. There was no room for feelings. Not for him. Damn, he was a Dixon. No feelings for him.

Nobody took care of him, he took care of nobody.

That was his world, and it was OK. Better than OK. It has always been that way. He did not need complications and emotions meant complications.

But why couldn't he get enough of her?

He was surrounded by her, her delicacy, her smell, her beauty, her smile, her wonderful smile.

He couldn't keep his hands with him, he had to touch her, to stroke her.

With the fingertips, the palms, the back of his hands, the knuckles.

He traced every wrinkle, every liver patch, every scar.

And he found a lot of scars and he wished, Ed would still be alieve, so that he could kill him over and over.

He was full of rage, how could somebody do something like that to a woman, let alone this woman. No-every woman.

What would she have to endure under Ed's hands?

He felt angry, mad scars, cuts, cigarette burns and he wished, he could make them disappear by his touches. Oh, how he wished.

It semmed, she could sense his anger, her delicate hand cupped his cheek and she looked him in the eyes, blue on blue, oh so deep.

"Hey", she said, "It's OK. It's over. I'm still here. He's not. In the end, I was stronger than him. I'm still here. And so are you."

She raised her head and her lips searched his.

And he got lost in this kiss.

Again.

Lost in this overwhelming feeling of devotion, indulgence, of closeness, of love.

Nothing else mattered.

Nothing but Carol.

She became the most important thing in the world. The one and only, his touchstone and his home.

While they kissed, his hands started to wander again. Like a blind man, reading Braille, he tried to read her body.

His fingers caressed her breast, when he felt something. Another scar. But this one was different. Not mad or angry, but somehow clear, accurate, maybe a surgical cut.

Daryl heard Carol take a deep breath: "I had breast cancer. Just before the death started walking. Radiation, operation, chemotherapy. The entire program. That is the reason, my hair was so short when we first met at the quarry. It just started to grow again.

And Ed just started to behave like his former self. Like before the illness. He was furious, he couldn't grab me by the hair.

While the therapies was the only time, he left me alone. He pretty much ignored me and fortunately he ignored Sophia, too.

That was the worst. I was so afraid to die. So afraid to leave Sophia alone with him. That gave me strength. The strength to fight cancer. The strength to defeat cancer!"

He hugged her as tightly as he could. Tears stung in his eyes and threatened to fall.

He loved her so much. He needed her, skin to skin, from head to toe, all-encompassing and always there, and he vowed in that very moment to make life special for her, to create only good memories, from now to eternity.

They had no doctors, no aftercare appointments, no examinations.

But they had each other.

They were still alive.

They had hope.

They had love.