7.

He was back in bed with her, a few nights later. Worry pushed him back there.

One morning, while Daryl slept soundly on their floor, Carol had slipped down the stairs, her hand catching on a nail they'd never seen before as she reached out to stop herself falling. It had only been a few steps and besides bruising, she's been okay.

Kelly had stitched the cut up and that was how Daryl found her that morning, being stitched up. And Carol had seen the fear on his face. They always thought the worst now. So she beckoned him over from where he'd frozen, staring.

"It's just a scratch from a nail, that's all," Carol promised. He inspected it, once Kelly finished stitching. And Carol wondered what he was looking for as he inspected her hand carefully, not just the wound. "It's okay," she promised him.

"I didn't hear you fall," he regretted.

Picking up the bandage she gave it to him. "Wrap it for me?"

And he became attentive to her, more than normal. Did the simple things she could easily do, but gently insisted he did them. And she let him, because she recognised his fear. Even though it wasn't a brush with death, he was afraid to lose her.

He didn't move out of bed like he had before, he stayed close, wanted to make sure he was close by. And during the night, she reached out to touch him, half asleep, and she felt his warm skin against hers. It was clammy against hers and it stirred her from sleep. "Are you hot?" she whispered in the darkness. She felt rather than saw him nod. She left him in bed as she moved round, pushed open the window to left some of the night air cool him down. And then she climbed back into bed beside him, careful not to get too close, to make him more uncomfortable.

In the distance, the dog barked somewhere off in the night.


Daryl headed out early in the morning. The barking dog had him on edge, because he knew every night it was out barking, it could draw walkers to them. So he set some traps in the woods. Hoped the dog would fall for one of them. And on his way back he looked for tracks.

He wandered back to the field where he'd first found Carol and he almost hoped he'd see Rick or the others there. He couldn't let them go, despite what Rick had done. He wanted them to be okay.

But there was no Rick waiting in the field for him and no tracks from anyone.

So he headed back to Carol and the others.

When he got there, the kids were playing outside, Kelly watching over them as they played quietly together with sticks and rocks. And Carol was inside looking out, smiled at him.

He'd come back empty handed so she knew he hadn't been hunting. And he started to tell her when they heard a thump upstairs.

They both armed themselves ad headed up. Daryl had told them about the old man, what he'd done a few nights back. And the were prepared for it again. He used the same tactic again, hoped they'd buy into the fact he'd turned.

They helped him back into bed and he begged for them to end it for him, tears welling in his eyes. "I wanna get back to Rita," he told them.

They called Kelly in. The three of them discussed it and couldn't agree what to do. None of them wanted him to die, but he wanted it so badly. For not, they couldn't agree and so they decided to sleep on it. Talk it over again in the morning.

And in bed that night, Daryl felt uncomfortable. Not because of the heat, but because he hadn't agreed with her. He always agreed with her, her reasoning. But he didn't want them to kill that old man just because he asked them too. And then he remembered Jim, and how willing he'd have been to kill him when he was bitten. How it wouldn't have phased him to put that axe through his skull even as he coward away from him in fear.
And he wondered when he changed so much.

Wondered when he became so weak and Carol so strong.