The car rumbled along the grass at a steady speed. They were approaching the prison, and the peaks of the roofs could be seen peering over the tops of the trees. Carol couldn't help but feel proud of their haul. Three full days of hunting and scavenging had paid certainly paid off. Daryl had successfully tracked and killed a deer, plus two rabbits and seven squirrels. They had more than enough canned goods, plus other things like soap, blankets, spare clothing and new badly-needed cooking utensils.

Suddenly, Daryl stepped on the brakes and the car came to a squealing halt. Carol watched, puzzled, as his hand doze into his pocket.

"Wha's the matter?" she asked, but her lips broke into a tiny grin when she noticed his fingers closed around something he was holding.

"Close your eyes," he instructed softly, and she happy complied. He admired her face for a few seconds before leaning forward. She felt his arms resting on her shoulders as his hands fiddled with something behind her neck. Finally he pulled away.

"Okay. Look."

Her lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes. Immediately she looked down at her chest, knowing exactly what Daryl had done. She gasped quietly as she brought her fingers up to stroke the little garnet stone lying just above the neckline of her shirt. The chain was gold. The stone had been smoothed and carved into the shape of a heart.

"Daryl, where did you-"

"'Fore we came back to the prison, we held up in this abandoned house. Found it in one o' the bedrooms. Thought of you might like it. I think you like red…but hell, I dunno."

Little tears sprung to Carol's eyes. Tears not meant for release. She blinked them away briskly. Before Daryl could oppose, she had pulled him into an awkward hug. It was but a tiny gemstone, but it meant so much more than he could have ever imagined.

.:|:.

Rick watched the fence intently from the guard tower. His foot tapped nervously. He kept glancing up at the sky, noticing the change in the sun's position as the hours slowly dripped by. He knew the hunting trip was essential, but he couldn't help but feel slightly worried for the welfare of everyone.

He knew that Carol and Daryl were putting themselves at danger by running off into the woods alone, giving the group no solid idea of when to expect their return, nor any notion of where their intended location was, or how deep into the Georgian wilderness they were planning on venturing. He knew the Governor and his men were unlikely to have forgiven their disastrous encounter with the prison gang, and were most certainly always on the lookout; always planning their vengeance. Rick hated to think of the suffering his friends would endure before their inevitable execution if they were captured.

The sound of a door shutting softly and someone approaching broke Rick away from his train of thoughts. The footsteps were muffled from dragging feet. Rick turned his head to see his son ambling towards him, head bowed so that all he saw was the top of his sheriff's hat. Rick motioned for Carl to sit next to him.

"Hey," he greeted softly as the boy pulled up a seat beside him. The chairs in the guard tower were made of metal and highly uncomfortable. It was Carol who had suggested making covers for them, if she could find the required materials.

"They're still not back yet," Carl said, his voice scarcely a whisper. Rick nodded, sharing his son's worries. But he knew he couldn't show Carl that.

"Daryl said they'd be gone at least two days. It's only been three."

Carl fell silent for several seconds as he decided whether or not to believe Rick's reassurances. On one hand, Daryl and Carol were completely capable of looking after themselves. But on the other, the seemingly simple expedition to Woodbury to retrieve Maggie and Glenn had gone disastrously wrong and almost ended in tragedy.

"If anything happens to them-"

"Nothing's going to happen to them." Rick snapped.

His voice was stern, almost chiding. It was obvious to everyone in the prison that Carl was far from the innocent child he should have been. The boy had seen and done more things in the past year than most people will ever see or do in their whole life. He didn't spend his Saturdays watching cartoons and eating pizza with his buddies. He spent them wondering if he would live to see another sunrise, or if his family would. They all feared that if they weren't careful, Carl could become numb to pain and loss. He could become merciless. He could become a monster.

"You don't know that!" Carl snapped suddenly, taking Rick by surprise with the urgency in his voice. "You don't know that they'll be okay. And if something happens to them, an' they don't come back…" Carl paused to regain composure, taking a deep breath. "…then who'll take care of Judith?"

Rick stared at Carl. His initial irritation at his son's newfound doubtful mindset faded. Carl wasn't cold. He hadn't raised a monster. Carl's protectiveness over his baby sister was assuring. And Rick understood Carl's concerns. Carol was the only one who could ultimately raise Judith. Rick was far too busy to pay his daughter the full attention that she needed. Carl was still a child himself, even if he did wield—and regularly make use of—a gun. Maggie and Glenn knew nothing about parenting. Hershel was disabled. Carol had to act as Judith's mother. Lori would have wanted that.

But still, Rick couldn't let his son wander around the prison awaiting the worst. Carl was still impressionable. He still looked up to the adults of the group—specifically his father—and if he saw they hadn't let go of hope, he wouldn't either.

"Carol and Daryl are going to be fine." Rick promised, holding his son in his gaze firmly. "And if they aren't…well…we aren't even gonna think about that, okay? Now, why don't you go back an' play a card game with Beth?"

Carl nodded uncertainly and began backing away. Suddenly he spun on his heel. A question had been lingering on his mind for far too long.

"Dad, do you think Daryl and Carol are-"

His inquiry never spanned farther than that, for it was at that precise moment that Carl noticed the green Hyundai winding through the trees, advancing towards the prison.

.:|:.

"Holy shit, Daryl," was all Rick could manage to say when he laid eyes upon the sheer size of the buck Daryl and Carol had returned with. It was a majestic and elegant. It had long, slender legs built for leaping and two large antlers sprouting from its head. They were covered in fuzzy velvet. Its dark eyes were deep, glossy and unseeing. It was regal. It was cold. It was dead. It was dinner.

"Tracked this son of a bitch for miles! This time, there weren't no damned walker gnawin' on it."

Carol watched as the two men dragged the deer from the car and hoisted it inside prison, staggering under its weight. Carl marveled at the immensity of the animal. His gun hung at his side, his arm limp along with his jaw. Beth beamed as she called Maggie over. Everyone could practically taste the venison melting in their mouths and the deer hadn't even been butchered yet. Daryl would have to do that soon.

Carol's plan was to set aside a portion of meat for dinner and roast it 'till it was tender and juicy. The rest she'd cut into strips, rub with herbs she'd snagged from a small health food market, and smoke over a fire out in the prison yard for a prolonged period of time, allowing the sun to dry it. Hopefully after a day or so they'd have jerky—a lot of jerky.

Rick helped heave the buck up onto the metal table where soon Daryl would skin, clean and prepare it. The rest of the prison gang gathered around it. Merle observed intensely from his cell. Beth stroked the deer's flank, the fur smooth and soft to the touch. Daryl watched as Axel crept around the corner, wandering over to where the others had congregated and peering over Beth's shoulder. Daryl noticed the uneasiness that seized the girl's face when she realized whose shadow had just eclipsed her. Hershel's eyes burned with disapproval. Daryl sneered to himself.

Carol was still back at the car, gathering the rations they'd brought back into a big bag that looked old as hell, judging by the frayed stitching and faded green colour. She smiled when she noticed Daryl progressing towards her, his strides small and cautious. He kept glimpsing over his shoulder to make sure nobody happened to be spying from the doorway. Carol beckoned him over. He quickened his pace.

"Hey there, cutie. Nice hair." She teased, and Daryl felt his cheeks blaze red. He reached up and ran his fingers through his dark locks, smoothing down a troublesome tuft that had developed from sleeping on the floor of that damned car. "'s gettin' a lil' long, don't you think?"

Daryl shook his head, his fingers wandering down to brush across his sideburns. He was rather fond of them. And she was, too, though she wouldn't admit it.

"Nope."

Carol stifled a giggle. "Fine. What's wrong? You're lookin' a little glum."

Daryl shrugged. Carol hauled the heavy bag up, realizing a bit too late that she wasn't nearly strong enough to support the weight. Daryl rushed over to help her, relieving the stress from her arms. He stumbled, astounded at the massiveness of it. This time Carol couldn't contain her amusement. The look on his face was far too precious. She helped him lower the bag back into the trunk.

"Guess we're gonna have to make a few trips after all," she sighed, beginning to unpack a few cans and bottles. "Damn."

Carol used to never swear. She always found another word to substitute the foul ones. But ever since she and Daryl's bonds began strengthening and they hung around each other more and more, she'd found her tongue slipping on a few rare occasions.

Suddenly she paused, a mischievous thought blooming in her mind.

"I never thanked you properly, for this." she confessed, stroking the gem that sparkled against her skin. Her eyes briefly glossed over the windows, but only for a second. She leaned up and her mouth connected with Daryl's, her lips fastening over his.

This time, Daryl froze only for a split second. He was still unsure of how to return her kisses—and knew for a fact he would never be able to repay them fully—but he let his hand drift up to hers and their fingers laced together. After several moments she pulled away, breaking the enchantment, unfastening their fingers. Daryl swallowed hard. He craved more, and it surprised him. It scared him. He was terrified of how she had bewitched him and he didn't even care.

"You're welcome," he muttered. He cleared his throat when he realized how meager yet gruff his voice was. And from his spot at the doorway, having bore witness to it all, Carl smirked.

This chapter for some reason did NOT want to publish… ugh. Hopefully if you're reading this, I've resolved the problem. Sorry for the dullish chapter. I have a lot of really fun ideas for the next chapter, though, so hopefully that'll make up for it. Anyway, in case you're wondering if I've dropped/forgotten about the whole "their happy moment would soon pass" thing, I haven't dropped/forgotten :) Some moments just last longer than others…;)