AN: hey, just a reminder, Daryl was 38 in 1980...so some of his views thoughts will be from that time period(ie the Cold War with Russia- no disrespect intended) new Chapter...let me know what you think.

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead

Chapter 4

"Who are you?"

Daryl watched as Carol came back to the room, her face white, probably no whiter than his seeing his dead mother, alive, well and not aged one day.

It was impossible.

"Fuck...I'm dead." He muttered, flinging his head back on the mattress. "I'm fucking dead, that's what this is right?" She shook her head like she was trying to make sense of what he was saying.

R"What? No you're not dead."

"I have to be...there is no other explanation, "he trailed off not wanting to continue.

"No other explanation for what?" She asked curiously

"Nothing, listen lady, dead or not I gotta, ...use the facilities." She flushed brightly, jumping up from her chair. "Oh of course, let me help you." She said rushing over, to the side of the bed. She put her arms under his shoulders helping him to sit himself up. He shivered involuntarily, she smelled like honey. Fuck he needed to get laid. Last time he'd been with a woman Ford had been president.

He was amazed at the wave of dizzyness that was hitting him. He teetered as he sat at the side of the bed.

"Whoa," Carol said stepping in between his legs, putting her arms under his armpits lightly holding him in place. "Wouldn't want you to go down on me." She said hurriedly. He pulled his head back and quirked his brow at her. She flushed brightly and started rushing to explain. "I mean I wouldn't want you to fall not, ...you know anything sexual, not that I want something sexual, I mean...that's not what I meant..." She sighed "I'm gonna shut up now and help you get up" she said and then she fucking winked as she tied the back of the hospital gown he was wearing.

She was cute, she reminded him of Mia Farrow or Barbara Streisand with her Pixie Hair cut. He must have knocked a few screws loose cause he was dead, and he was checking out his...well whatever the fuck she was.

"Who are you?" He asked as he stood slowly, she was holding him up in a loose dance like hold, she started slowly walking her way backwards towards the bathroom.

"I told you, I'm Carol." She said as she looked over her shoulder to gauge the distance to the door.

"I ain't a chump, I remember that, I mean, who are you a nurse, a doctor? What is this place?." He asked suspiciously.

She bit her lip like she was unsure what to tell him. "This is the Washington safe zone." She said.

"The what?"

"The Washington safe zone, you know, after the apocalypse happened several safe zones were established." She said looking at him.

He started to chuckle "Sure it is, let me guess the Russian's finally nuked us huh?" The a thought hit him. "My idiot brother used to read magazines about crackpot theories, Russian spies kidnapping and brain washing Americans...ya'll are spies, are you?" He glanced at her in mock suspicion as she opened the door.

"What? Russian spy? No...oh wait a minute, you said 1980 didn't you?" Carol said nodding her head.

"Well that's the fucking year," he grunted annoyed.

She just nodded and pointed to the toilet. "Ok let's sit you down"

"I ain't sitting to piss." He sputtered indignantly. Was this chick for real?

"You can't stand on your own, how do you expect to pee, I am not holding you up for that...Sorry Pookie we ain't that close." She said with a grin as he growled in frustrated acceptance.

He sat down to do his business as she shut the door. "I ain't your Pookie." He growled through the door at her.

He heard her laugh, it was a light airy laugh that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and a shiver to run through him.

"Maybe I should call you kotik, it means pussy cat in Russian I believe." She snorted at her own joke as he heard her giggling through the door as she finished the last part of her sentence in an exaggerated Russian accent. "Da?"