Wow... okay. If you're still with me here, well, I love you. 3 This update took over 8 months, but I haven't abandoned this fic. Far from it. I just needed to wait for the muse to help me get it right. Thanks for sticking with me! Extra thanks to Ravenesque for beta-ing and to LiddyM2113 for pre-pre-beta-ing a certain section of this.

The walker crumpled instantly. Daryl pulled the bolt out of its head and reloaded the crossbow, Carol flanking out to his right and disappearing around the corner. They circled the cabin in opposite directions, meeting at the back door. The walker that now lay in a heap of its own gore on the front steps seemed to be the last of the small herd, but it was anyone's guess as to what, or whom, may be inside the structure. There should have been someone on watch, but the dead were the only ones greeting them when they arrived.

He squinted up at her as she carefully scaled the four rickety stairs and tried to peer through the glass at the top of the door. She glanced back at him and shook her head. The heavy curtain across the window completely shrouded the view inside.

Daryl joined her on the landing and paused. He took a few quick breaths to ease the tension in his jaw and prepare for the worst. It was the reality of this new world that you would eventually put down those you love. A reality he knew all too well. Carol hadn't known Karen and David that well, but he knew she was particularly close to Beth, having mentored the girl in caring for the smallest Grimes. As much as he wanted to spare her this particular torment, the numbers were not on their side.

She grasped the knob and waited for his signal. When he bobbed his head, she threw the door inward and stepped back, letting him rush in first, then followed with her knife held high.

Empty.

The larger main room and small back bedroom were abandoned. Relief mingled with apprehension as they looked around for a clue as to where the others had gone. It didn't take long to find. The kitchen table was loaded with a box of clothes, a small assortment of canned food, and a folded slip of paper tucked beneath them.

Daryl,

Bob and Sasha saw a sign along the railroad tracks when they went looking for you. There's a place called Terminus offering shelter. The signs say it's a sanctuary for anybody who can get there. Maggie thinks Glenn would be looking for her there. Maybe some of the others saw signs, too, so we're going. Look for the tracks north of here. Head east once you get to them. See you there soon.

Love,

Beth, Maggie, Sasha & Bob

"Terminus? Ever hear of it?" Daryl asked after Carol looked up from reading the note aloud.

She shook her head no. "Sounds like some sort of old railroad facility. Offering sanctuary…." Her brow creased in concern. She couldn't help but be wary of strangers after the last few weeks, even if increased numbers usually meant increased safety.

"Could be legit," he offered, but his tone didn't reflect the optimism of the words.

"We've got to catch them. Stop them before they walk into something bad. Something like…."

She flinched and sparked into action, throwing the food into her bag as fast as she could. She reached for a can of kidney beans, but he put his hand on top of it, blocking her. "I wasn't s'posed to be gone overnight. If they left when they saw the sign…" He let go of the can and added, "They're a day ahead of us, at least. We ain't gonna catch 'em."

The worn chair creaked beneath her as Carol sank into it, her fingers trembling slightly as she ran them across her forehead. "What if it's like where we were?"

"They're smart. They won't just go walkin' into somethin' without checkin' it out first. Sasha… she'll keep 'em safe," he said. He knew from their tandem leadership on runs that Sasha was particularly cautious, and his faith in her instincts didn't waver. It could be a trap, but if so, she would likely recognize that before trouble could start.

"They'll be alright. We'll head out in the afternoon, catch the daylight for a change, but we ain't gonna get far with your ass draggin'. Get some sleep. I'll take watch." He gave her his best don't argue look and she acquiesced, heaving herself wearily toward the bedroom. When the door closed behind her, he picked up the note and read through it again. Terminus. End of the line.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and the regret he'd felt about giving up on finding that bastard rose up right along with them. The prison was gone. Nothing could be done about that now but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to do everything he could from here on out to keep them all safe. To keep her safe. He balled up the paper and tossed it across the floor, watching as it tumbled along like the rocks he used to skip on Hershel's pond. His jaw clenched again and he headed outside, trying to ignore the expanding ripples.

The bed was comfortable, more so than her mattress at the prison ever was. Even more than some of the nicer houses they'd squatted in during that first hard winter. Her hand slid unconsciously to her hip, temporarily worsening the dull, thudding pain of her pulse within the flesh. A minor shift of her leg and the thud ceased. She'd learned long ago how to best sleep with the various aches of injury, but an all too different ache was keeping her awake now. The cold metal grate of the theater seemed almost welcome compared to the grief and worry that plagued her now. Hershel. Lizzie. Mika.

The girls could be out there somewhere. Out in this world. Maybe they'd made it away from the prison with others who could watch out for them. Daryl hadn't found many people yet, so they must have scattered in all directions, but that was an advantage for the girls. She knew they weren't headed the same direction she had. At least there was that.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm brewing in her mind as her repositioning had calmed the pain of her body. Daryl's insistence that she stay with him drove away the worst of the visions when she closed her eyes, but after so many days sleeping in a small, enclosed space, she felt exposed with nothing to shield her from view. A soft bed in the bright light of day should have been a comfort, but the only comfort she found was in the knowledge he was nearby. Even that was tinged with the torment of scenarios she couldn't stop from flooding her thoughts.

Twenty minutes of staring at the ceiling, the patterns of the wood grain now indelible in her memory, and she found him sitting on the front porch, searching the woods through a rifle scope long ago separated from its mate.

"Any signs of life?" she asked.

"Just the squirrels," he answered. His eyes snapped to her and away just as fast. "And you."

Their circumstances weren't happy ones, but in this moment she was grateful. Corpses littered the ground around them, but here he was, next to her on this porch deep in the woods. The isolating hell she'd been forced to live in since the day she tried the car door and found it locked was behind her now. The odds had been stacked against them, yet somehow they'd found one another. Found a thread within each other to grab onto and come together. They'd made promises.

For the first time in months, she had a glimmer of hope.

"Whatta ya doin' outta bed, anyway?" he prodded.

She knew she'd be useless without rest, exposing them both to more danger than already lurked around every corner. "I can't get settled. It's too… open." She left off the parts about the ache in her heart for the others, and the fear of losing him once again and being left on her own.

He lowered the scope and eyed her, longer this time. "How long were you there?"

"I don't know. Two weeks, maybe," she replied, staring down at the weathered planks beneath her feet. "It was easier… before that."

A chill ran up her spine and she shuddered against it, tamping down the images of close calls from her time alone and walling them off, just like the rest of the things she'd need to deal with later. The thought flicked in her head that she may run out of space for the walled objects in her mind soon, but she pushed that away, too.

"None of that matters now," she said, focusing her attention back on him. She didn't want to remember her time alone on the road. "You found me. Again."

He nodded and she turned to go back inside when a different memory swept through her. One that made her pause in her tracks and welcome it to run freely without walls. The horror scene surrounding them faded for a brief instant and she felt like she could fully breathe again, like she could almost fathom the luxury of a settled mind. One at peace.

"You okay?" His voice blended into the recollection and she looked back over her shoulder at him, the same slight smile tugging at her mouth as the first time he'd asked that question on the darkened catwalk and she knew she hadn't dreamt him up after all.

"Thanks to you."

She opened the door and went inside.

Thanks to him?

The knob latched quietly into place and he couldn't hear her anymore. He imagined her walking softly across the room, quiet as the mouse his brother had once called her. But she was no mouse anymore. She'd saved him more than once in the last 48 hours. What had he done to earn her thanks? Failed her when she needed him most and still she didn't hesitate to relive her troubled past to save them both. She'd even decided to leave the group in a misguided attempt to do what she thought was best for him, all too keenly aware of the dangers lying in wait for someone on her own.

He grabbed his crossbow and paced across the porch, imagining the terrible things she must have endured before he found her. The things that were written on her face as she told him it was easier before that hellscape he'd found her in. His knuckles grew white with his grip on the bow, his need to keep her safe intensifying to an uncomfortable level with her out of his sight. He couldn't lose her again. He wouldn't.

The importance of keeping watch was not lost on him, yet he found himself heading toward the door. He needed to see her, to be sure she was still there. She'd given him her word and he trusted that, but the urge to be certain wasn't going away. Hell, anything could happen these days. The turn had proven that over and over again.

He felt the full weight of that truth when he twisted the knob and it resisted his grasp.

No, no, no. Not again. NO.

The panic welled up before he could think and he wrenched the knob as hard as he could, flinging the door open easily this time and looking straight into her startled blue eyes as she stumbled backward. Nothing else was there. No living threat. No walkers. Only his terror reflected back at him until she shook it off and rushed past him, closing the door so they were both safely inside, away from any walkers that may have heard the slam of wood and brass against the wall of the cabin.

"Are you… what the hell happened?" He worked to catch his breath, fear fading to frustration while he searched for some explanation. She gave him no answer, only a mysterious expression he'd never seen her wear before. He continued to scan the room and she leaned back against the door, waiting patiently for his eyes to meet her own. He finally paused long enough to notice the hint of a blush in her cheeks. The sight of it melted his frustration again, this time leaving only confusion in its place.

"My fault, sorry. I was holding the knob when you tried it," she explained. "I didn't realize you were coming in."

Her answer did nothing to clear up the situation.

"Why?"

"I was considering whether or not to open it."

He stared at her and waited. The only response he had was another Why? and he figured the look on his face was already asking that question. She dodged and threw it back at him.

"Why were you coming in?"

"To check on you," he answered.

She nodded thoughtfully and he felt suddenly sheepish, admitting he needed to see her after she'd left him only a minute earlier. He was overcome with the urge to bolt, to get back out on the porch and keep watch before her questions made him think too much about his motives, but she stood between him and that reprieve. He wasn't even sure why he felt the need to escape. He'd already admitted he loved her. Broken down in her arms and swore her name like an oath, begging her to stay with him. But there was something different going on now and he thought if she kept looking at him like that, she'd see all the terrible demons that had haunted him when they'd been torn apart. She'd witness his nightmares and his desperation to find her and realize how weak he was becoming just as she was showing such strength.

If she kept looking at him that way… damn it, why was she looking at him that way? He couldn't tear his eyes away from hers. They locked into him, as though she already knew all his secrets and was just waiting for him to confess.

She took a step closer and he wanted to step back, but his feet were uncooperative and stayed riveted in place.

"I was trying to make up my mind because I wanted to ask you something," she explained.

Fuck. Maybe she really did know his secrets just from looking at him. And now she was going to ask him what? To let her leave? Tell him she was better off on her own? Smarter? Faster? For the second time in less than a day, he blinked slowly, methodically, taking a breath to prepare for words he didn't want to hear.

"It isn't fair of me to ask. It's selfish, really-"

"Say it," he interrupted. He couldn't stand waiting anymore. Better to tear the band-aid off in one painful yank. "Just say it."

"Okay." Her eyes softened and she took another step toward him. "At the theater, after the patrol left and it was just us and we… talked and… more. Do you remember?"

That's what she wanted to ask? If he remembered how she'd curled up against him like it was the most natural thing in the world? Kissed him and he'd responded without an ounce of restraint, like a teenager in the backseat of his parents' car at some panoramic make out spot? The lump in his throat made it difficult to speak and he decided nodding would be a better option. What would he say anyway? That he couldn't forget a single detail if he tried? That it was the first semi-conscious thought in his head when he was awoken by her breath against his ear in the blind? He hadn't even admitted that to himself.

He was still trying to puzzle out why she would ask him that when she stepped closer again, taking his crossbow from his hand and placing it gently on the table behind him.

"We don't know what's gonna happen out there." She looked up at him and laced her fingers through his. "So I wanted to ask you… if you could stay with me? Until I fall asleep? If maybe… you would…" She took a few measured breaths as she glanced down to where their hands were joined together and then back up at his eyes again. "I just want you close."

The doubts that plagued him dissipated with the question she left unspoken. It hung between them and he blinked back his disbelief, struggling to accept this was real. Carol was standing before him, looking at him that way, and now he finally understood the full meaning of it. He wasn't sure he knew how to be with her like that. To be fully with someone. Not in the casual, throwaway sense of his past encounters, but in the way he wanted to be with her. The only way he could be with her. All he knew for certain was that he wanted to try. To let her see everything in him… his fears, his doubts. His love. And the way she looked at him now he knew one more thing. She would still love him on the other side of it.

He swallowed his nerves and squeezed her hand, following silently as she led him away from the door.

He was dreaming. It was the only way to explain it. Her hands were splayed across his stomach, fingertips alternately gripping and relaxing against his skin as she moved on top of him.

He couldn't stop watching her, eyes tightly closed, mouth gasping labored breaths with their rhythm. Sunlight streamed in through the window, highlighting the bruises coloring her hip and cheek, the punctures and scratches from thorns marring the smoothness of her skin, the bones beginning to angle too sharply from her body from missing so many meals. She was imperfect. And perfect. She was real and beautiful and understood him in a way that would have made him uneasy with anyone else.

She was his.

His gut tensed as his eyes followed the path of his hands, gliding upward along her sides, trying to convince himself she was really here with him, not the figment of his imagination he'd conjured so many times when he couldn't find her. It wasn't until he glanced up at her face again and saw her peering back down at him that he allowed himself to actually believe it. She held his gaze, speaking a thousand words with her deep blue eyes, and he shivered beneath the weight of their honesty.

He didn't deserve this. Didn't deserve her. How he'd come to be in this moment was a mystery he would never be able to solve, but she sighed his name and he couldn't think about how he'd gotten there anymore. All he could do was stare while she once again closed her eyes, tightening against him as she gave in to her desire. He'd never seen anything like it, the beauty of her expression as pleasure washed over her, the way her face softened afterward, so different from his past experiences. Her eyes fluttered open and the peace that filled them made his breath hitch. She continued to move as she leaned down and kissed him, letting her body slip along his, her tongue seeking his own. The sensations overtook him and he pulled her tightly to his chest as his body lurched beneath hers, bringing him release.

He struggled to breathe, holding her so firmly, but he couldn't loosen his grasp. Not yet. He knew this wasn't a world where they could linger in some sort of storybook afterglow he'd seen in movies, limbs tangled, lazily running fingers and mouths over each other for hours as they drifted in and out of sleep. A world like that had never existed for either one of them. It likely never would, but he wanted to believe it could. Believe that he could have that someday. With her.

Her lips found his again and the hope continued to spark, and then she pulled away, smiling at him and running a hand along his stubbled jaw. He felt like he should say something, but he couldn't find the right words for what he was feeling. To even let himself feel this much at all… it was like exploring a new part of the forest, nervous uncertainty tempered by a strange, calming beauty. And the things written on her face as she gazed down at him… sharply contrasting the things written there earlier. What did she tell him then? That none of it mattered now?

"You were wrong," he finally managed. "What you said earlier."

Her brow crinkled, but the smile never left her face. "What do you mean?"

"Everything we've been through, even before…" he dared to gently touch the healing gash on her cheek, trying not to think of how many times that cheek was struck during her marriage. "It matters."

Her smile evaporated and she shook her head. "Daryl, I can't think about that…."

"I don't know what else you went through out there and you don't have to tell me. You said yourself that we came back from the bad things and made them good again. We can still do that. We will. But all of it, even the worst of it… it brought us here. It matters."

She let out the breath she'd been holding as he spoke and closed her eyes, lowering her head into the crook of his neck. "It matters," she agreed with a whisper. He pulled her tight against his side and they lay in silence for a few minutes, her fingers tracing his collarbone, his running along the goosebumps forming on her arm. When she stifled a yawn, he realized just how exhausted they both were, and just how vulnerable they'd be if anyone stumbled across them.

"We should get dressed," he said, hesitantly pulling his hand away from her arm.

"Yeah," she agreed, lifting herself up. They weren't even fully untangled and he was already missing the warmth of her against him. Maybe she felt the same deprivation, or maybe some other need drove her, but she stopped and cupped his jaw, drawing his forehead against hers for a few seconds before hoisting herself off him. They cleaned up and dressed, and he let himself steal one last look as she lay back down on the bed and finally succumbed to the rest she so desperately needed.

He grabbed his crossbow from the table and walked onto the porch again, passing the rest of the morning replaying the images of their encounter over and over in his mind. He tried to ignore it, to focus on the task at hand, but every whisper of a breeze through the leaves reminded him of the low murmurs that had escaped her and he was right back in the moment.

He was relieved when his stomach rumbled, the sun directly overhead and beating down with an intensity that made everything still beneath it, the wildlife seeking shade and moving only out of necessity. Now was probably as good a time as any to wake her and share a quick meal before they headed toward Terminus.

He hadn't cracked the door open an inch when a flock of birds raced noisily across the sky overhead, defying the punishing heat for fear of some worse fate. He raised the scope just in time to catch the movement in the trees past the stream and his hunger was forgotten with the scene unfolding in the lens.

He dropped the scope and reached her in seconds.