They swung past Terminus, on their way to today's spot. Just close enough to get a look at the ambling corpses that still hung in the dead air between their walls. The Mother House was still closed up tight.

Sophie and the other mothers and babies should have six more days of supplies, but still, it made Carol's heart race. If Rick waited much longer, she was just going to take a car and head in there alone… except she knew that this might be exactly the worst thing she could do, for herself and for Sophie.

It was just a bad situation. There was no good way to handle it well. There was only the way to handle it.

As the jeep rolled far away from Terminus again, Carol watched Daryl talking with Abraham and Bob out of the corner of her eye.

"Might have overdone it yesterday," Daryl admitted, rubbing at his leg. "The hike in the woods, I mean," he added quickly.

"The muscle is weak, you've got to take it easy," said Bob.

"Sorry I been blowin' you off, I ain't no good at bein' a patient," he added in a grumble.

Bob held his hands out, it was already forgotten.

"Friend of mine got shot in exactly the same place and like you, he would not take it easy to save his damn life," said Abraham boisterously, "bastard crippled himself and you'll do the same thing, mark my words."

"Better me crippled that you dead," Daryl spoke with a hint of dark humor that made Bob smile as much as it made Abraham frown.

"I would've seen that walker, you didn't need to—"

"Just say thanks to the man for savin' your life and drop it," Bob suggested with a chuckle.

"He didn't save my life, he interfered with my kill!" said Abraham, but all three of them were chuckling now.

Since reuniting, they'd spent almost every day in one another's company, but Carol hadn't felt this distant from Daryl ever before. It frustrated her, because she thought she'd come to terms with his 'attachment' as he'd deemed it. She wanted to be happy that he was happy, and that he'd opened himself up to someone else. She knew that it was what he should do, what would be good for him.

She shouldn't want him to stay an anti-social basket-case. But over the last week, as they exchanged only monosyllables and stayed focused on caring for the group as a whole, she'd realized that he wasn't the problem.

It wasn't that Daryl wasn't speaking to her. She wasn't speaking to Daryl.

Maybe the push had always come from her side. Maybe some part of her didn't want to share him with anyone else. She knew it was selfish, but she wanted to stay the only person who he could really joke with, talk to, relate to, be with…

She'd busted through his shell a little when Sophia died. She'd seen how broken he was and she tried to do what she could to heal him, but he'd only opened a crack, and only with her. What was remarkable now was how he was more open with everyone. She'd seen other people try and be his friend. It usually only accounted for a couple of awkward conversations in which whoever wasn't named Daryl did all the talking.

Beth wasn't just breaking through his armor, she was taking it off.

He could still be ornery and reserved, but moments like this one were becoming more common. It had happened gradually, and then all at once. He was reaching out to people. He and Rick had shared a bond since pretty early on—one that she admittedly hadn't always approved of—they were closer now than she'd ever seen before. It was a subtle change, but she'd picked up on it, in the silences between their exchanges where they still seemed to understand one another perfectly, not to mention the way that Rick always looked to Daryl before he made a decision about anything. They were more like family than friends. She could see Rick's kids growing up to call him 'uncle'.

It doesn't even bother me that he's with Beth, but it kills me that he's coming out of the shadows when I'm retreating into them.

Up ahead, the road opened enough that they could see the last half-mile leading into a small way-station. Cars were scattered along the side of the road and so Rick slowed down so that they could search them as they approached their mark for the day.

From the woods a crack alerted them.

Daryl was the first one to recognize that the shape in the tree-line wasn't a walker. "Anyone feel like venison? I'll catch up." He climbed out of the jeep, and at the same instance the deer bolted into the dark wood.

"Don't go alone—Carol, would you follow him?" Rick nodded towards where Daryl's angel-wings were disappearing into the cover.

With only a nod to their leader she followed after Daryl, catching up to him just a few feet into the trees. The deer was disappearing far ahead of them. "We gotta stay back a bit, so he thinks we ain't coming."

They followed the fresh tracks at a subdued pace, not speaking for several minutes.

"You and Rick okay?" Daryl finally asked.

"What do you mean?" but she sighed inwardly. No one had said anything to her about it yet, but she was sure that someone must have heard them arguing the other night.

Sure enough, Daryl spared her a glance in order to roll his eyes at her.

In spite of herself, she fought a smirk.

"The two of you walk off together and within two minutes I hear raised voices, echoin' through the woods. You think I didn't come runnin'? I cleared off as soon as I saw that you weren't bein' attacked, but even if I hadn't heard a bit of it… it's clear 'nough that things ain't right between you."

So, someone had heard them. She was glad, at least, that it was Daryl, out of all of them, he was the least likely the judge. She could trust him to see both sides of the argument, but she was beginning to lose hope that he'd take her side. She wondered how much of it he'd heard. "I do what he asks," said Carol evenly. "That's all he wants anyway."

"Slander, right there," grumbled Daryl, "He cares 'bout you. Cares about all of us."

"Me, least of all," Carol grimaced, "I'm dangerous, did you hear that part? I can't be trusted. I make calls that aren't mine to make. Kill innocent people. He doesn't want me around his children."

"He said all that?"

Truthfully no, he'd started off by telling her that Tyreese had told him everything that happened on the road and that he was sorry about Mika, Lizzie and Sophie. He'd said he wanted to forget everything and move on. He actually apologized for some of the stuff he'd said when he banished her. Not all of it, but he took back what he'd said about Judith and Carl not being safe around her. He said he knew that she would do anything to protect them, and thanked her again for caring for Judith. He'd also said that if Tyreese could forgive her, than Rick would just have to find a way to do it too.

It was the implication that she might want Rick's forgiveness that had burned her up. She hadn't done anything wrong and he'd abandoned her. Her chilly response of, 'Well, I'll let you know when I'm ready to forgive you,' hadn't hit Rick very well.

"Even if he didn't say it. It's pretty clear what he thinks of me."

"So, change his mind," Daryl shrugged, "I get that you'll do anythin' to protect us. Rick gets that too."

"You know what he did to me, Daryl? He left me out there alone. What kind of chance do you really think I had all on my own in this mess? What chance would anyone have? He didn't care if I died."

"That wouldn't've happened," said Daryl stubbornly, "If the Governor hadn't come when he did—I would've gone after you. I think Rick knows it too. I'd have brought you back, same way I did Merle. Locked you two in a room together 'til you could get along."

The comparison to Merle hit her like a punch to the gut, but she tried not to let it show. "How would you have found me?"

Daryl didn't answer, but paused, inspecting the ground a moment. He changed their course, glancing curiously in the other direction for a moment. Perhaps looking for whatever might have caused the deer to abruptly alter its path.

Maybe he would have found her. It was strange enough that they'd all managed to find one another. Still, she had a hard time picturing what might have happened, when what did happen was so loud and vivid red in her recent memory. She'd come back to the prison, torn between begging them to let her back, confessing to Tyreese personally and letting the chips fall, or perhaps simply to try and get Daryl to leave with her. Her plans had been fuzzy at the time and had been pulverized to less-than-memory after everything that followed.

If she was really supposed to be the outcast, still, and if they were less than they'd been before, she might as well confront him now. She might not get another opportunity. "Daryl, what happened… you and Beth?" she hated the way her tongue got caught behind her teeth, tripping over the question. It brought back echoes of the timid person she'd once been.

He stopped tracking and rotated around to face her, eyes carefully searching. "Can't really explain it," he admitted. "She. Happened."

Nodding, Carol tried to understand. "Was I imagining this?" She stepped into him, gesturing to the air between them.

He didn't recoil, didn't move at all, but regarded her steadily. Finally, he shook his head. No, it wasn't delusion. At least she had that much from him. "You didn't imagine nothin' Carol. If you wanted me, I was there. You didn't."

"Don't you think I'd know that for myself?" she laughed shortly.

"You didn't," he shook his head again, "Used to irk me when you teased, 'cause I knew you'd have done something 'bout it, if you felt like that."

She rolled her eyes at that, but it was more to dispel the last of the moisture that had been building up there. She knew that he was at least partially right. In the time that they'd been friends she'd considered, once or twice, making a legitimate go at him, but something always held her back.

Weariness.

She was so tired.

He took a slow step towards her, keeping his voice low, though there was no one to spy on them, "You're the most fearless person I know—and I know some real tough sons of bitches, lemme tell you."

There was an earnestness in his eyes that caught her off guard, but it shouldn't have, and she realized that almost immediately. Daryl didn't speak lightly, you could count on getting the truth from him.

"You, me, Beth too—we'd have all been just fine. We got purpose, we got people, we still got our own hands when it comes down to it," he held up his own, and she laughed in spite of herself at the implication. "You, more'n any of us. You don't need to find some apocalypse-husband. You got this."

"Sometimes, I worry that Ed… and losing Sophia broke me in ways I don't even understand. What if I just can't do it anymore?" What if there's no love left?

"Bullshit. I said you don't need no man. You can do whatever you want."


Reunion - The xx