A/N: Dear Readers. First of all, I'm sorry for the mood in latest chapters, I was having bad days and it influenced my story I guess. But thankfully, here we go again, with new day and new situation our characters all have to face now. The reunion. I hope it will go smoothly for everyone, but at the same time, I know it can't. Some vows will be said, some will be broken. Tension will rise and tension will find the release. Truth will be told, and truth usually hurts.

This is written from both Daryl and Carol's pov.

Thank you all for reviews and follows/favourites so far. Without it, I could not write again.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

"Hey Charlie! Charlie! Here boy, come on!" The damn dog always fails to listen to you. It's Rick everyone listens to, even the dog.

"Charlie! God damn it!" You give up and he dog just disappears into the bushes. Too bad for it. Food has been brought, and it will miss it.

The morning has been hard. You all went to the cantina for breakfast and dozens of people you've seen there...of course you've already seen other survivors but the amounts of them now, well, let's just say after spending months in a prison with max 20 people, it was all so overwhelming. You find Rick there. And you approach.

"Hey Officer".

"I hate when you call me that".

"Lori called you that."

"Lori died a long time ago. "

The forbidden name comes out unintentionally but it doesn't cause pain anymore. Rick is way over his late wife now. It doesn't mean you are. Changing the subject seems the safest road, so you just ask:

"The damn dog is gone again. You might want to call it here, Judith will be happy".

He looks at you with this strange glimmer in his eye, like he is x-raying your soul, or questioning or interviewing you, and you know you can't suppress this, nor you can lie, because he will know instantly. It used to be his job, working people out.

"Carol?"

"Yes?"

"You're tense, why?

"I'm not. Really. It's just this damn wedding, keeps me on my heels. Been a while since we've had anything to celebrate here".

"I should be the one afraid, I'm actually the best man today".

"And you will be awesome. You always are".

You kiss him lightly, don't maintain eye contact, and quickly turn around. So he can't see the thin line of your mouth. And wrinkles around your eyes. And this one single tear falling. For no reason at all.

"Charlie! Damn dog where have you gone?"

As the sun starts to annoy you more and more, the feeling of running some place else is more and more urgent. Karen is gone this morning, seeing her Woodbury friends. She even asked you to come along, but somehow you feel the lesser survivor of Woodbury than of Prison, Farm, Quarry, Atlanta...you know these are not your people and you don't wanna hang out with them. Not much to hunt on these days as well. You went for a usual hike this morning, only to see a few partridges deep in the woods. Not even a point in bringing them in, damn soldiers will catch it up and stop you anyway.

Besides, it's a wedding day. Not a damn clue what to bring as present. Karen is quite excited still, even though all the doubts and unclear situation you lately been having with her. But you know you should go. For Maggie, your sister. For Glenn, your brother. Hershel, father you never had. For Rick, your guide. And for Carol, your light in the dark, your conscience. So reluctantly, but you unfold a white shirt form your baggage, clean blue jeans and a sharp razor.

If your'e gonna do this, you as well may do it right.

The hot shower water brings you calamity. You shave first time in months, it makes you feel exposed, but in a good way. Your hair is clean, smells nice, but you know you need a haircut sooner or later. The hair gets in your way, high time to fix it.

You don't wanna think about the inevitable meeting with your former group. You've already seen enough of their punishing looks, witnessed enough of their fake affection. Only real reason for you to go there is Karen. Because she wants to go to feel again this sense of normality. And Carol. Because she will be there, because she has always been there with all of them. All of "us". If you ever counted as one of "us".

Those two women. Fierce Karen, all nature, all instinct, all love and passion. And Carol. So distant, yet so close, all the time. Calm and steady, but a fighter and passionate warrior at heart. That's how you always saw her. Your separation hasn't changed her that much from what you saw so far. It has strengthened her. Made her even more solid. As hard as a rock, immune. Self sufficient. Like ice.

You step out to the front porch as the sun slow starts to go up, only to find a small lost mongrel hiding from your eyes.

"Hey boy...Come'ere...hey, don't be scared".

The dog slowly approaches you and licks your face. It's body is trembling, you can tell it's still a puppy and it's lost.

"Hey buddy, where's your master now? I can't keep you here, don't even know your name".

"Charlie. That's his name." That voice is unmistakable. Deep and gentle, like always.

You raise your eyes up, smile, and try to hold on firm and self-conscious, like you always do.

"See that's your missing dog then".

She stands there, in the rays of rising sun. Her blue eyes focused at the dog. You know they're blue, 'cause you've spent hours before looking into them, in another time, another era. And then, just recalling them. Blue, but dark like a storm incoming.

"He is ours yes. Charlie, our new guiding star."

Carol smiles sadly and begins to turn away. The urge to stop her is immediate and unstoppable.

"So...um...see you at the wedding tonight. "

"I didn't know you guys were coming"

"Glenn came to invite us. Karen thinks it would be good to show up".

"Karen is right." Her smile is broad and sincere.

"I will see you there. " and with this simple statement, Carol turns away with Charlie by her side, and leaves.

"The ceremony starts at seven"!

"I know. We'll be there. I will..be there".

She smiles at you and begins to leave. You want to hold her still in that very place at your front lawn, but you know you cannot.

They belong to different worlds now.

A Cherokee Rose.

Simple gesture, full of wordless meanings.

A cursed flower.

You never wanted to see it again. But somehow it is now beside your bed. Near a pretty green dress you chose for Glenn and Maggie's wedding this evening.

You could have thought it was Rick who brought it here for you. Rick or someone else who knew what significance this small flower remains for you. Only, almost no one really knew that. And the rose was in a beer bottle. Again. Just like years ago.

You walk out of the shower cabin wrapped in a towel, your curly hair a mess, and your skin hot and wet. The air is filled with moist from the hot shower you took. The flower is the first thing you notice after you walk into your small bedroom. The bungalow is emptied, you share it with Rick, Carl and Judith, but you know Rick is right now talking with the Fort Benning authorities, and Carl is probably out with Judith and your dog, Charlie, having good time in a sunset somewhere outside your little hideout. You turn instinctively to the mirror over the bed, and that's when you see it. Letter's already start to fade. But somewhere on the steamy mirror reflection you notice small and unsure writing, and in a heartbeat you know who it must belong to.

"I still remember".

He shows up while you're dressing up. You recognize his smell before you see him in the doorway. He's always smelled like this. Of gun powder and leather, of goodness and doubt. He smiles to you, his hands find your waist and you feel safe again. For all these long months, he has managed to keep you and all the others safe. And he guided you all here, to Fort Benning, the Safe Zone. Truth is you've had many bumps throughout the months of this relationship, but Rick has managed to give you something precious. Safety. Yes, he always fought for it yes, he always somehow managed to achieve this, with smaller or bigger losses along the way, ever since you've met. He fought for you in the Quarry, at the Farm, and at the Prison. Now he led your group here, to Fort Benning. And the infection, that turned the world into living hell, finally started to retreat. You felt safe again. Safe enough to walk the dog each morning, to have a cup of coffee on the front porch, to take a shower in a real bathroom and with a real hot water and soap...Things were good now, simple things, simple moments. Happiness, finally. And you owe this to your man, your Rick. The fact that he joined you so long ago, that he stayed for you when all seemed lost for him after Shane and Lori died, that he fought for you and led you here. And somewhere in between, you two fell in love. Calmly, simply, practically. No hot sweaty moments, no heap of emotions, no rolling thunders under your skin. It just felt natural, obvious to happen, and when it happened all the group cheered for you, and you know they wish you well.

And even though you love Rick beyond imagination, even though you can't imagine anyone else in your life right now...this flower beside your bed still bothers you. Makes you confused. How should you react, how should you take this new information, this new signal? And the writing on your mirror? "I still remember"... Bah. Remember what? The days spent together? Endless roads traveled on his motorcycle together? Search for your lost daughter? The tombs? The awkward but precious moments in Prison? How he left? Why he left? And why he never came back to you?

You blink and shake your head. Too many questions make you confused. Rick is in the shower now and when he gets off, he will surely ask questions. So you clean up your steamed mirror fast, you remove the beer bottle with a Cherokee Rose in it, and put it in your closet. Somehow you can't just throw it away. It would feel wrong. It would feel like losing all hope. And all memories.

Still more than an hour to the wedding. Maybe you should calm down, read something, something to keep you focused of the happy time this night. You reach for one of the most important books you managed to get last months. Poetry. You never liked it. But this one poem always takes your attention, and it became your favourite. Sometimes you just wonder why.

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Robert Frost.