A/N: This is by far my favorite episode of the entire series, and I've enjoyed working on this chapter as well. Hope you all like.

Italics are memories.

Thanks to everyone who has read and those who have commented. Always a pleasure.

I own nothing.

Chapter Ten: Cherokee Rose

Carol didn't want to join the others at the farm. If Sophia was trying to find her way back to them, she would be trying to get back to the highway.

If she would have to find another camper or truck to wait in until her baby came back, then so be it.

She sat on the hood of a yellow car near the guardrail and kept watch at the edge of the forest.

Dale was looking at her for some time, but after a while he gave up.

When she heard booted footsteps approaching she knew who it was.

Daryl slid up onto the hood next to her and looked out at the forest as well.

"You know, this whole farm thing might be a good idea. We can set up a secure base, and I could widen the search. Maybe borrow that horse, cover some more ground."

"But she won't know that we've gone. What if she comes back, and she's all alone? Or what if another herd comes down the road?"

"I have something that might help."

He leaned down and picked up his rucksack.

"There's enough food in here for days, and some sports drink. We can put it here, and keep the car unlocked so she can get inside."

Carol looked into the bag, and she did feel marginally better.

"We should leave a note," she said.

Daryl held up a small can of paint as well as a brush.

They arranged the food and drink on the hood of the car, left a note telling Sophia that she should stay put, and that they would be back every single day, and then Carol at last agreed to go along to the farm.

. . .

Daryl was in his tent after Otis's funeral, gathering some supplies so that he could head out and search again.

There was still plenty of daylight left, and he was going to use as much of it as he could to look for Sophia.

The whole time Shane had been telling them his story, Daryl had known that there was more to it. He didn't think Otis's sacrifice had been so very willing. He was going to have to keep an eye on Shane. At the very least he would keep the other man away from Carol. She didn't need anything else bothering her right now.

The woman herself came to the opening of his tent just as he was thinking of her.

"Any chance I can convince you to let me go this time?"

"Not this time, no. I need to get familiar with this side of the forest, and I can't risk anything happening to you while I'm doing it."

He felt like shit when she frowned and cast her eyes down.

"Besides, if she somehow does end up coming this way, she'll want you here. She's gonna want to see her momma before anyone else."

Carol nodded her head and turned to go.

"She's gonna be happy to see you too, Daryl. I know it."

He couldn't think of anything else to say, so he returned her nod and watched her head back to the RV.

. . .

There was one other thing Daryl wanted to do before he left camp.

Glenn was making a run in to town, and Daryl had a list for him.

Clearly, he was the last person Glenn had been expecting to see.

Daryl pressed the piece of paper into the younger man's hand.

"If you have time, Glenn, I'd appreciate it."

"Sure. Whatever you need. Be careful out there."

"Always am."

. . .

Glenn unfolded the paper in his hand, and there was Daryl's neat, precise scrawl:

Portable DVD player

Batteries

Headphones

Copy of 'The Princess and the Frog'

Glenn smiled to himself.

He would make sure to ask Maggie if there was a video store in town.

. . .

Daryl felt a little bad asking Glenn to run the errand for him, but he didn't want to lose any more time that he could be looking for Sophia.

When she came back to them, she was going to need time to rest and recover. And he couldn't think of anything she'd like better than to get to see her favorite movie again.

Maybe he'd watch it with her. See if it did Evangeline any justice.

He'd just be grateful to have her by his side again.

. . .

Somehow Sophia had become his little shadow, as well as Carol's.

That was surprising in and of itself, but even more startling to him was that he didn't mind one bit.

Sophia was a good kid, and she was smart. Wouldn't be too long before Daryl could teach her how to use a bow and take her hunting with him.

For now, he was teaching her how to clean a squirrel.

"This is really gross Daryl."

"You bet."

"I don't mind though."

"I can see that."

Weird thing was, she wasn't so squeamish as she had been when they had first met. Sad truth was that she had seen too many things to be grossed out by gutting their next meal.

"Maybe next time though we can get something less smelly."

So maybe she was still a little squeamish.

. . .

Daryl tucked the squirrel he had just killed into his belt.

At any rate, he could make sure he brought back a little dinner.

. . .

"Daryl, do you ever miss the way things used to be?"

He was keeping watch, and surprisingly she had volunteered to keep it with him, after getting Carol's permission. Carol had even given her a thermos full of tea for the two of them.

It was just Lipton, but it was the best damn thing he'd had to drink in a long time.

Daryl took a sip and thought about her question.

"Not exactly. I miss not having to deal with Walkers all the time, but I can't really say that much else has changed. In some ways, this life is even a little bit better."

"I think I know what you mean. Everything here is scary, but it's nice that it's me and you and mommy now."

"You know, there's not many people who'd be so happy to have me around."

She shrugged.

"Yeah, but then they don't really know you."

"You think you do?"

"I suppose I know enough. You tell good stories, and you're good to me and my mom, and you're brave and you like tea. It's enough to be getting on with."

He handed her the thermos again so that she could pour herself a cup.

"You're not so bad yourself, half pint."

. . .

Daryl took another drink of water from the thermos.

He'd liked it better when there had been tea in it.

Wasn't often that he found himself missing the before times, but he was regretting the time he'd been stuck without Sophia. His life had been better for her friendship, even if she was just a kid.

He found himself in a small clearing with a house, and hope surged in his chest.

Maybe Sophia had found some shelter there.

There was clearly no one inside, once he took a look around, but it couldn't hurt to see if she had ever been there.

The pile of blankets in the store cupboard was encouraging, as well as the opened tin of sardines.

Whoever had slept in that little space had to have been about Sophia's size. It was a very good sign; one of the best leads he'd had since her trail had gone cold by the highway.

Daryl felt proud of her. She'd been surviving on her own, and it looked like she was using some of the things he had taught her.

. . .

"Never stay out in the open at night. If you're ever separated from me or your momma, make sure you find cover if it's at night. I'm not sayin' you will be or anything, but just in case."

"What about if Walkers could still get inside? Like in a house or a car or something?"

"If it's a car lock the doors. They might break the window, but locking the door is gonna give you enough time to make a plan. And if you're in a house get into a room inside where you can shut the door. They're not smart enough to pick locks and one Walker isn't going to be strong enough to bust a door in before you can get away."

"Okay."

"And always look around a place before you just blunder on in."

"Like with that Walker in the car the other day?"

"Yeah."

He put an awkward hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be. You checked. And besides, you saved my life."

. . .

If Sophia had been in that house, she seemed to be following his advice.

Daryl just wished he'd taught her how to find her way without a compass.

Seemed stupid not to have thought of that, but how could he have ever known what was coming at them the day she got lost?

At any rate, if Sophia had been in the house, she was long gone.

He went outside, intending to look around the surrounding area before he went back to camp, when he saw it.

. . .

Daryl went into his mother's room to check on her.

She'd been having a rough night, and he wanted to make sure she didn't need anything before he went to bed.

"Momma?"

She turned her head to look at him and smiled weakly.

"Hey baby. You come to look in on me?"

He nodded and she beckoned him to come over to the bed.

"I don't need anything right now, but you want me to tell you a story before you go to bed?"

"Yes please."

He crawled in next to her, and she put a weak arm around his tiny shoulders.

"You know those roses we got out in the backyard? The ones that grow wild all over that back corner?"

"Yeah."

"Well, those are the Cherokee roses. Now, you listen to this story real well, and you'll see why they're so special."

. . .

Daryl reached out to touch one of the flowers.

There were two.

One for Sophia, he knew.

And one for Merle?

Somehow, Daryl didn't think so. He couldn't think so.

More likely, the other was for his Momma.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt her presence so strongly.

Very carefully, he reached out and plucked one of the flowers from the plant. He'd bring it back to Carol; maybe it would make her smile a little.

. . .

Carol was sitting in the back of the RV, darning one of Daryl's shirts.

She'd kept herself as busy as she could all day, but she felt like she was losing her mind. She could be out there with Daryl, searching. She understood what he had said about Sophia seeking her out if she found her way to the farm, but that didn't help much.

She had still been in agony with every passing second.

What if Daryl didn't find her?

Or what if something happened to Daryl?

And what if he did find Sophia, but…?

Carol could feel an awful chasm open up in her chest whenever that terrible thought reared its ugly head, and so she had worked herself into exhaustion, trying to stop her errant thoughts.

She'd been in to check on Carl, and to help Hershel tend to him some.

Everyone's laundry had been washed, dried, folded, and returned to them.

She'd kept watch for a few hours, eyes roving frantically over the edge of the forest.

Lunch and dinner had both been made.

And she'd cleaned every square inch of the RV, from floors to cupboards.

At the end of it, she'd been drained but her thoughts had been no less active.

She'd gone to some of the laundry she'd set aside for mending and taken up one of Daryl's flannels. The collar needed stitching up again. He'd fixed it himself several weeks before, but it was already coming undone. She was much more adept with a needle, so she'd just redo it.

And then she heard footsteps outside—Daryl's—and her hands trembled in anticipation.

Her heart sunk when she realized his were the only footsteps she was hearing.

Maybe he had some news though.

. . .

Daryl didn't think he'd ever seen the RV so clean before.

He looked up from the stacks of neatly piled dishes and saw Carol sitting in the back, working on one of his shirts. She had their hurricane lamp on the nightstand so that she could see a little better. He felt his stomach give a strange lurch over thinking of the lamp as theirs. It was just something they'd found on the highway, but he'd never shared anything with a woman before. Even if it was only a lamp.

The light softened her already delicate features, and even though she looked so sad, Daryl didn't think he'd ever seen her look prettier.

Her hands were shaking though, and suddenly he felt ashamed for standing there gawking at her like a loon.

Daryl made his way over to her and they nodded at each other. No Sophia. Not yet. But soon.

She smiled at him weakly.

"Cleaned up. I wanted it to be nice for her."

He nodded, thinking of the shopping list he had given Glenn earlier.

"For a second I thought I was in the wrong place."

Carol huffed out a small laugh. It was a nice sound.

He took the bottle he had been holding behind his back, and put it and the Cherokee rose down on the sill.

Carol looked up at him, puzzled.

"A flower?"

"It's a Cherokee rose."

She didn't seem to recognize the name, so he took a breath and went on.

"The story is, that when American soldiers were moving Indians off their land, on the Trail of Tears, the Cherokee mothers were grievin' and cryin' so much cause they were losin' their little ones along the way. Exposure…disease…starvation… A lot of 'em just disappeared. So the Elders, they uh… said a prayer, asked for a sign to uplift the mothers' spirits…give 'em strength…hope."

He paused, and Carol looked over at the flower again.

"The next day this rose started to grow right where the mothers' tears fell."

He ducked his head, feeling warmth seep into his face.

"I'm not fool enough to think there's any flowers bloomin' for my brother…"

She looked up at him again, wiping at the tears that had started to course down her cheeks.

"But I…I believe this one…it bloomed for your little girl."

She smiled at him, and let out a soft sob. She didn't say anything, but she did nod at him, and she looked a little bit better.

He didn't know what else to say, so he smiled and turned to go.

Passing by those clean dishes again, he paused and looked back for a moment. Carol was watching him go, and her eyes were shining. Now she looked prettier than ever.

"She's gonna really like it in here."

Carol sniffed and looked around with another small smile.

As he went out the door, he took one last look at her.

She had put her sewing down and was looking at the flower thoughtfully.

. . .

Carol felt that maybe she would sleep tolerably well that night.

When Daryl had been telling her that story, she felt better than she had in a long time. Obviously he thought it was some kind of sign (and later, when he told her about the house and what he found there, she felt hopeful too). He would find Sophia. She knew it.

It had been a long time since someone had brought her flowers. For all his initial charm, Ed had never done that.

And she'd never felt about Ed the way she had been coming to feel about Daryl, even when things had been good with her husband.

Daryl was certainly rough around the edges, but he was a good man. She had been right: without Merle around to bully him, Daryl was able to show them all how he really was. And he was a man with a good heart.

Carol didn't think she'd ever seen him look so handsome as he had when he had set that flower down on the windowsill. She'd felt silly for thinking it at the time, but it had been honest.

And the way she wanted him was honest too. She liked what they had, but she wanted everything with this man. She wasn't so sure he was willing or able to give her that just yet though, so she would gladly take what they already had if it meant he'd always be by her side.

She was surprised to find him already in the RV, putting something away in the nightstand. He had their hurricane lamp going again, but she knew it wouldn't be long before they'd have to put it out. She felt inordinately fond of the lamp, just because it was theirs. And now they could share the Cherokee rose too.

He knew she was there. She could tell by the way his shoulders stiffened, as if he didn't want her to see what he was doing.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself. Whatcha got there, Daryl?"

Neither of them had expected her to really ask, and his hands fumbled a bit, a DVD case dropping from them.

He picked it up and gave it to her.

"Might as well see, since you caught me," he huffed.

She looked at it.

It was a copy of "The Princess and the Frog."

Carol had to sit down.

"Where'd you get this?"

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"Glenn was making a run in to town, and I asked him to pick up a few things. I figured Sophia would like it, once she comes back."

Carol ran her fingers over the movie case.

Everything.

She wanted everything.

. . .

He was quiet as a mouse when he came back from his watch, but Carol wasn't sleeping anyway.

The bed dipped down with his weight as he sat perched on the edge.

She looked up at him when he put a hand on her back.

"I'm gonna borrow a horse tomorrow, cover some more ground. She can't have gotten too far from that house, so…"

Carol nodded up at him.

He gave her shoulder a squeeze and turned to get up.

She reached out and took his hand.

"Please stay."

"I'm just gonna be in the next bunk."

"I know, but…"

Carol was thankful it was dark. Her cheeks were flushed.

She didn't know how to tell him that she just wanted him there, next to her, no strings attached.

Somehow, he seemed to understand.

"Make room then."

She slid closer to the wall as he took of his boots and put them by his bed.

He climbed into bed next to her, and she took her hand in his again, lacing their fingers together.

Hers weren't the only hands shaking as they dozed off, side by side.