Chapter 26

Carol's eyes fluttered open, and at first, she didn't feel any pain. It wasn't until her gaze focused on the candle on a small table near the bed that she cried out as pain tore through her shoulder like the bullet she'd taken.

"Daryl!" she cried out, feeling a hand squeeze hers. She turned her head to see Daryl sitting at her bedside, worry creasing his brow as she watched her.

"Shh, I'm here," he murmured. "You got shot."

"I feel like it," she whimpered. She gritted her teeth as she tried to sit up, and he pressed on her unwounded shoulder, easing her back down onto the mattress.

"Take it easy. You lost a lot of blood."

"The baby," she gasped, clutching her stomach with her good arm. She could feel the baby moving inside of her, and that eased her worries a little, but not completely.

"Bullet went clean through. Bob got you stitched up. Said you need rest, and the baby should be ok." Carol felt the tears stinging her eyes, and he leaned forward, resting his head on her good shoulder for a moment before moving to kiss her forehead. "I thought...Jesus, Carol, I thought you were dead." Carol reached up and gently cupped his cheek with her hand.

"I'm still here," she murmured. "Nine lives, remember?" Daryl choked back what sounded like a sob and ran his hand over his face, brushing the hair out of his eyes. "What happened?"

"Tyreese got taken down by a walker. His finger slipped on the trigger."

"Oh God," she murmured, eyes widening. "Is he dead?"

"He's alright. Little shaken up, kinda banged up. Probably feels like shit." Carol sighed and shook her head.

"What is this place?" She looked around, noticing what looked like an eyechart on the wall and one of those scales usually found in a doctor's office.

"Think they were usin' this as a clinic," he said quietly. "Found lots of medicine and supplies. Must have got taken by surprise. They didn't even try to pack nothin'."

"Where is everybody?" she asked, watching as Daryl leaned over to pick up a bottle of water off the table.

"Drink this," he murmured, lifting it to her lips. She took a few thirsty gulps before settling back down against the bed.

"Daryl? Where is everybody?"

"They're out finishin' what we started," he replied. Carol could hear gunfire every once in a while, and she figured that must have been the others finishing off what was left of the walkers that had gotten inside. Carol groaned and leaned back against the bed.

"I can talk to Bob 'bout gettin' you somethin' for the pain."

"No," Carol insisted. "I don't want to take anything that could hurt the baby. I'm fine." Daryl stared down at her.

"You gotta be hurtin'."

"Pain just means you're alive, right?" she asked, trying for a hopeful half-smile but wincing in pain instead. She put her hand on her belly, and Daryl put his hand over hers, linking their fingers together. "This kid's been through so much already, and he's not even born yet." She smiled sadly. "It's kind of strange. Our baby and Judith…they'll never know what it was like before. All they'll ever know is this." She felt a momentary sense of panic surge through her body. He felt her tense, and he squeezed her hand.

"We're gonna make it, Carol. Our baby's gonna make it. We just gotta keep fighting. Who knows? Maybe one day, we won't have to fight anymore." Carol smiled a little at the way he tried to sound hopeful when there was very likely no hope to be had.

"Thank you," she whispered. He stroked her cheek and leaned down to kiss her softly.

Daryl had made sure Carol had eaten something before she'd fallen back to sleep, and when he was certain she was out for the night, he slipped out of the little room and ran right into Tyreese as he closed the door.

"The hell you doin'?" Daryl asked, eyeing him. "Where's Rick?"

"They're out clearing houses," Tyreese murmured, staring at the large blood stain on Daryl's shirt. "She ok?"

"You care?" Daryl eyed him. He knew Tyreese had been through all kinds of shit, but that didn't mean he wanted him lurking around when Carol was in the state she currently was in, especially after what he'd said to her at the firehouse.

"It's my fault," Tyreese explained. "I shot her, Daryl. I did that."

"She knows it was an accident." Daryl watched him for a moment and continued. "She'll be alright. Bullet went right through."

"The baby ok?"

"Baby's fine," Daryl responded shortly. "You done?"

"Daryl, I know what I said to Carol after she told me. I was angry. I wanted to blame somebody, and she gave me someone to blame. Then with Sasha…"

"Carol did what had to be done."

"I know that!" Tyreese yelled. Daryl looked toward the door to Carol's room and then back at Tyreese with narrowed-eyes. Tyreese took a breath and lowered his voice. "I know." He sat down on a chair in the hall and removed the knit cap from his head. "My sister was gonna turn. She was gonna be one of them. And the second I saw her shaking in Carol's arms, I thought of Karen and how sick she was. And I…" He looked up at Daryl. "I need to talk to Carol."

"She needs to sleep."

"Daryl…"

"You ain't goin' in there and upsettin' her. She needs to rest. Baby needs her to rest." He saw the defeated look in Tyreese's eyes, and he softened a little. "Look, maybe tomorrow, man. Just not now." Tyreese finally nodded in understanding and walked away. Daryl slid down the wall and sat down on the floor, closing his eyes and feeling the weight of the night's events fall over him like a wet blanket. He groaned, his body exhausted and aching, but he hated the idea of resting with Carol hurt in the next room. He wondered for a moment if there would ever be a day when he felt completely safe for her—or himself—again.

Daryl woke to a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. He'd fallen asleep sitting in the hallway with his back against the wall, and as he opened his eyes, realizing it was morning and the sun was out, he blinked a few times and focused his gaze on Rick's face in front of him.

"How's she doin'?" Rick asked, nodding toward the room Carol was in.

"I think she's still sleepin'," Daryl murmured, stretching and standing up. Rick straightened, and he ran his fingers through his hair. The sheriff's eyes were a bit red, and he had dark circles under them. "Shit, I guess I fell asleep. Sorry. I shoulda been out there helpin'."

"It's alright," Rick said with a wave of his hand. "You had enough to worry about. We got it under control."

"What's the damage?"

"Bob, Tyreese and Glenn are loading bodies up in the pickup and taking them outside the gates. Michonne and Maggie went out and got all the cars pulled into the gates. We've swept most of the houses and cleared 'em."

"How many were there? Walkers, I mean," Daryl asked, peering out a window at the end of the hall, seeing Bob and Tyreese with bandanas over their mouths and noses as Glenn backed the truck up and got back out to help load more bodies.

"Hundred or so. Seemed like more at the time. We're safe for now. Just keep your weapons close in case we missed one."

"Sure," Daryl said with a nod. Rick started down the hall, but Daryl called out again. "Hey."

"Yeah?"

"I don't want Carol sleepin' in here another night."

"There's plenty of places to pick from, Daryl. Whoever was here before is gone now. If they ain't dead, I'm sure they ain't comin' back. This place is ours now."

"We're gonna be ok, though, right?" Rick saw the exhaustion in his friend's eyes, and he moved to put his hand on his shoulder. "Carol and the baby are gonna be fine. We made it this far. We can't lose another round."

"Michonne and I are gonna take a drive around the fences in a bit, make sure there's no breaches. Nothin' else is gettin' in here without our say so." He watched Daryl chew his lip, and he gave him a half-smile. "Don't worry. I remember what it's like. It's gonna be fine."

"What what's like?"

"Becoming a dad. Worrying about somebody else, being responsible for somebody else. It's terrifying, but I can promise you, Daryl, it's worth all the worrying in the end. We had walls at the prison. We had a system. But we didn't fight hard enough. I blame myself for that, but we got more to lose now than we ever did before. We ain't givin' up." At that moment, Carl came walking in with Judith.

"Dad? Oh, hey Daryl." Carl looked back and forth between his father and Daryl, worrying for a moment. "Carol's ok?"

"She's gonna be fine," Daryl said with a nod. "Just needs her rest. She got lucky."

"Glad to hear it," Carl said quietly. "We need her." Daryl gave him a little nod, and he nodded back. Carl turned his attention back to his dad. "Judy's out of diapers." He made a face and handed the fussy baby to Rick. Rick gave his son a look, and the boy gave him a sheepish smile. "Hey, she's your kid."

"She's your sister."

"Dad trumps brother."

"Yeah," Rick muttered. "Get outta here, I'll take care of it."

"Cool, thanks!" Carl hurried off before Rick changed his mind, and the sheriff bounced the baby on his hip.

"I gotta take care of this. Give Carol my best, alright?"

"Yeah," Daryl murmured, watching the way Judith lay her head on Rick's shoulder as he soothed her by rubbing her back. He wondered how the hell he was going to do this, how he was going to be somebody's dad and not completely fuck up the way his old man had. He watched Rick walk away and waited for the footsteps to recede before he turned and let himself back into Carol's room.

She was still sleeping, her hand gently resting over her stomach. He sat down next to her bed and felt a rush of relief to see that she wasn't still bleeding. Her bandages hadn't soaked through, so Daryl took that as a good sign.

She moaned softly in her sleep, her brow furrowing through her discomfort, and he gently took her hand in his, running his thumb over her knuckles. She slowly opened her eyes at the feeling of his calloused fingers against hers, and she gave him a little smile when she saw him.

"Morning," she murmured.

"Mornin'," he greeted her, bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss. She bit her lip a little as her smile brightened. "How ya feelin'?"

"My shoulder hurts, but I'm alive. That's really all that counts, right?" Daryl gave her hand another kiss. "You sleep here?"

"Fell asleep in the hall," he chuckled. "Rick just woke me up."

"What's going on? Is everyone ok?"

"Yeah. Relax. It's all under control. We're safe."

"Safe?" she asked, sighing and leaning her head back against the pillow.

"Safe for now. I think we finally found walls we can keep." He put his hand against her belly and stroked her there. She closed her eyes and yawned, feeling the pull in her stitches when she moved. She grimaced. "You ok?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna be fine," she assured him, stroking his cheek. "Thank you for being here when I woke up."

"I'll be there when you wake every mornin' for the rest of my life if I can help it." She felt tears sting her eyes.

"Daryl Dixon, I think you're turning out to be a true romantic."

"Pfft, stop," he muttered before giving her a little grin. "You hungry?"

"Starving," she insisted, feeling her stomach grumble at the thought of food.

"I'll see what I can find, alright? Don't go nowhere."

"I'll try to stay put," she assured him. A knock at the door startled them both, and they shared a look before Daryl got up and opened it. Michonne stood there with a pack draped over her arm, and Carol smiled at the sight of her friend.

"Thought I'd stop by and see how she's doing," Michonne said with a weak smile, a little scuffed up and bruised from the events of the previous night.

"Come in," Carol called over, motioning Michonne to have a seat where Daryl had just been sitting.

"Guess I'll go find breakfast," Daryl said with a shrug. "Anything you want me to look for?"

"Ooh, pancakes. Or waffles," Carol teased, knowing it would be next to impossible to find those ingredients at this point. "Oh, and bacon!"

"You find bacon, you slide some of that my way," Michonne laughed. Daryl rolled his eyes at the two of them, shaking his head as the girls laughed together as he left.

"You alright?" Carol asked, noticing the cuts on Michonne's arms.

"Yeah, battle scars, huh?" she asked. "Speaking of…" She nodded toward Carol's bandaged shoulder, "welcome to the badass scar club."

"Oh, this?" Carol asked. "Well, I've already got more than my share of scars."

"Don't we all?" Michonne asked, taking a seat. They sat quietly together for a few moments. "I have a good feeling about this place."

"Yeah?" Carol asked.

"Yeah. I guess after all we've been through, this place really seems like it could work. I mean, the generators are out of gas, so there's no electricity like we were hoping for. We'll have to go on runs for food and supplies from time to time, but Carol, there's potential. Rick's already talking about planting crops. The people that were here before us have a huge supply of crop seeds. We could make this work. And the walls are more secure than the fences at the prison and the fences at Woodbury put together. These people knew what they were doing when they set this place up."

"That's a relief," Carol murmured, sitting up just a little. Michonne helped her prop herself up with a pillow behind her back. "Thanks."

"Saw Tyreese leave last night. What'd he want?"

"Tyreese was here? That's the first I'm hearing about it." Carol raised her eyebrows and made a mental note to ask Daryl what had happened while she was unconscious.

"Ah, well, I guess that's a question better saved for Daryl, huh?" Michonne guessed. Carol nodded, and Michonne stood up.

"Hate to cut our visit short, but Rick needs me to help him check the perimeter."

"I'll bet," Carol said with a grin.

"Oh, somebody's not letting a little gunshot wound get her down." Michonne laughed and shook her head. "Rick's just a friend."

"Yeah, that's what I told myself about Daryl for nearly two years. He's just a friend." She could tell Michonne wasn't entirely ready for that kind of discussion about Rick yet, so she decided to drop it. "Thanks for stopping by, Michonne."

"Hey, that's what friends are for. Get some rest." She patted Carol's hand and got up to leave. Daryl came walking back in with a box of cereal.

"Well, it ain't bacon or waffles, but it's food." Michonne excused herself and left the two of them alone. Carol took the cereal box into her hands, opened the plastic bag inside and started munching on semi-stale cereal. Even the fresh-seal bags couldn't withstand the test of time in the apocalypse.

"So," Carol said quietly, "Michonne tells me Tyreese was here last night." Daryl sat down next to her.

"Yeah, and I sent him away."

"What'd he want?"

"I dunno. Said he wanted to talk to you. You were sleepin', and I didn't wanna wake you."

"Daryl…"

"You were just shot, Carol. I didn't want him comin' in and upsettin' ya."

"I'm not completely helpless, as bad as I might look," she pointed out. "If he comes back, don't send him away."

"Well, we ain't stayin' here much longer. We got a lot to do today. We gotta go house huntin'."

"House hunting?" she asked with a laugh.

"We gotta find our place."

"Our own place? No roommates?"

"Unless you wanna bunk with Rick and Bob." He saw her make a face. "Then I guess we'll be lookin' for our own place. Got plenty to choose from. Rent's cheap." Carol smiled at that, and she sat up a little. "Well, help me get out of this bed, and we'll get started. I do have one requirement. It's a necessity."

"What's that?" Daryl asked.

"We need a treehouse." Daryl threw her a glance and couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips.

"For the baby, right?"

"Um…sure," she laughed. "But, you know, he won't be old enough to use it for a long, long time, and we couldn't let it go to waste." He leaned in, kissing her softly, and she sighed against his lips, wishing she was feeling good enough to let it go further than that. But she was going to need a little time.

"Well, in that case, I'll build one for ya if I have to." Carol laughed at the thought of Daryl up in a tree trying to put together a tree house, but her heart swelled, and for the first time in a while, she truly felt as if everything was going to get better from here on out.