AN: Here we go, a little more to the story.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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Daryl had drawn Rick out to the porch of the house so that any discussion between them might not interrupt anyone else. They might have been in the pitch black had it not been for a particularly bright full moon. As it was, though, Daryl could at least somewhat make out the man who sat a few feet away from him in one of the chairs that came with the porch.

At the end of it all and with the dust settled, the exit from Terminus had left Daryl's family intact, even if they were a little worse for the wear, and it had brought three others into their company.

Rick, Glenn, and Tyreese. That was all that remained of all the members of his group that Rick had gone picking up and putting down as they went along. The three of them were clearly worn, weary, and, more than likely, traumatized.

Daryl had given them one night to rest and recuperate. He'd expect them to find the road themselves in the morning while his family remained behind for a night and let distance be put between them.

That was Rick hadn't agreed with, and that was what he wanted to discuss with Daryl after everyone else had settled in for the night.

"You can't send us out there alone," Rick said. "There's power in numbers, Daryl. You know that."

"Weren't what your ass thought when we was at the prison," Daryl said. "Made us into prisoners? Made out like we couldn't be trusted to be around? Like we would just up and get everybody killed?"

Daryl didn't even care if he kept his voice down. Honestly, with Terminus probably still burning somewhat in the distance, he didn't imagine that there was a Walker within miles that gave a shit about him.

He got to his feet, out of frustration that he hadn't even known he'd been harboring, and walked to the edge of the porch, rocking his feet at the step. He took a cigarette out of a pack that he'd stolen from Merle and lit it, taking a couple of drags off of it before he even looked back in the direction of Rick.

Rick was sitting there. Daryl would say he was sulking, but it was hard to tell with his swollen face. Daryl didn't think he'd broken Rick's jaw, not really, but he certainly hadn't done it any favors.

"I don't understand this world that we're in—nobody does," Rick said. Daryl merely hummed. "My wife had just died. There was a chance we were all going to be killed by a madman. I had kids to protect. I had people to protect."

Daryl growled to himself.

He turned his whole body now, abandoning his rocking on the edge of the step, and stared at Rick.

"Yeah, well, I got a kid," he said. "And a w-."

Daryl paused a moment and swallowed.

"And I got people to protect," he said. "My people. Don't look like you done too damn good for yourself out there—how the hell I know you safe to have around my family?"

"After you left? The Governor's men or…I don't know, that's who we assumed it was? They tried to take the prison," Rick said. "They did take the prison. We lost people then. Hershel…Beth…I lost Judith."

Daryl felt a twinge of something. It wasn't really sorrow for Rick—he wasn't sure he had that at the moment—but it was something like a general sorrow that life sometimes turned out the way that it did.

"On the road? We…ran into trouble," Rick said. "Same thing…lost Carl."

Daryl nodded his head to himself. He didn't know the details and he didn't need them. They'd been lucky, perhaps. There had been a couple of instances where they might have lost someone, but they hadn't lost anyone. They'd all gotten this far just fine.

"Saw the signs for Terminus," Rick said. "Thought…it'd be a safe place. Somewhere—safe."

"Anybody could read mighta thought that," Daryl muttered.

"We weren't alone in those train cars," Rick said. "There were people in the train car with me the first night—or first few nights, it was hard to tell—that were alive when we got out. You know as well as I do that more of us got out of those cars than made it to that clearing."

"Some of 'em didn't make it," Daryl muttered.

Just in their attempts to get out, Daryl knew that Glenn had lost Maggie. Tyreese, apparently, had lost someone as well. There had been a fight. It had broken out around them and most of them, spilling out of the train cars, had been unarmed. People had scattered. There had been, like Rick had said, a lot more people that escaped the train cars than made it to the clearing in the woods.

But Daryl's biggest concern had been his people, and they were all alive. If nobody else had the ability to hold onto their people? Maybe that wasn't his problem at all.

"We always believed there was a chance to find something out there," Rick said. "I always wanted to do whatever it would take to—get everyone to a safe place. That place wasn't Terminus, but we know there are other people out there. We know that we're not the only ones. That safe place might still exist, Daryl."

Daryl hummed to himself and dropped the spent butt of his cigarette to the ground, snubbing it out with his boot before he lit another.

"Happy trails lookin' for it," he commented.

"There's strength in numbers," Rick continued. "Safety. If we find this place? It means we're all safe. It means…Nobody else has to die, Daryl. You don't even know what I—"

Daryl interrupted him before he could continue along the path that he was starting on.

"I don't know anything about you," Daryl responded. "But you don't know about me neither. Don't be actin' like you do! Best I can tell you is we'll all talk about it in the morning, but I ain't makin' no promises to you."

Rick sat there, staring at him, and then he hung his head and nodded to himself.

"I thought you were the boss here?" Rick asked.

"Ain't nobody the boss," Daryl said. "Do what's good for everybody. That way, don't nobody lose."

Rick nodded again and then got to his feet.

"And if you stay?" Daryl said quickly. "That's exactly how the hell we still gonna run things."

Rick stopped right before he opened the door to let himself back inside.

"Understood," he responded, stepping in.

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Daryl, along with all the rest of them, had bathed as soon as they'd gotten back to the house. They'd all agreed that another night there, at least, to overcome what they'd been through was necessary. Immediately they'd bathed, eaten almost in complete silence, and everyone had retired.

Even Merle had gone without saying anything to the bedroom that Sophia occupied and when Carol had gone to tuck her daughter in, she'd found him snoring on the other bed, looking ridiculously oversized for his location.

Carol, herself, was so exhausted that her body didn't feel like her own. When she closed her eyes, she felt like she rocked and swayed, even though the bed was stationary. She didn't sleep, though, and she didn't quite realize why until he opened the door and stepped in, closing it quietly behind him.

Yes, Daryl had bathed right along with the rest of them, but still he brought the scent of cigarettes into the room with him—a scent that had once turned her stomach, coupled often with the smell of whiskey, but now was somewhat comforting. And he brought with him another smell—it was the scent that couldn't be washed away, the smell that was so individually the smell of Daryl.

He undressed in the darkness, since she'd failed to remember to leave a lamp lit for him, and the bed shifted and creaked when he sat down it. As soon as he lie down, Carol felt his hand sliding over the cover.

It reached her body, slipped up the curve of her, and then trailed along her body until it reached the top of the cover, just below her shoulder. He trailed, blindly, his fingertips over her shoulder, up the curve of her neck, and rested them gently on her face for a moment.

She waited, but there was some hesitation on his part.

"I'm awake," Carol prompted softly, expecting that might be the reason for his pause.

She must have been right, because Daryl shifted his weight and moved closer to her, searching out her lips. She kissed him in return, closing her eyes despite the darkness, and appreciating for the moment that she was still able to do that.

Tonight, tucking Sophia in to sleep, the girl smiling right until Carol had blown out the light, she'd only let herself begin to think about how lucky they were.

It could have all gone so differently. It could have gone so much worse. They could have been, tonight, mourning their loved ones…or they could even all be dead.

Instead, they were all together. They were clean, comfortably crowded in temporary housing, and they were all alive and relatively unharmed.

And Carol had never had such a feeling of being blessed as she did at the moment.

She kissed Daryl lazily, drawing it out longer than it really had to be, reinstating it when he might have pulled away. In response, he rolled onto his back and pulled her into him, allowing her to rest part of her weight against his chest to continue the game in comfort.

And when she finally stopped, both of them needing breath, he wrapped his arms tightly around her and hugged her against him so that she closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest.

"You saved our asses today," Daryl said. "Come through—saved ever' damn one of us."

Carol hummed.

"I didn't," she said. "Merle did. I was—just there."

Daryl clucked.

"Merle mighta been in on it," Daryl said, "but he ain't done it all hisself. I know that. We all do. Hell—even Merle knows that. You done it too."

"You're not mad that I didn't listen to you?" Carol asked. "That…we didn't go on and we came after you anyway?"

Daryl was quiet for a moment.

"I was a lil' pissed," he admitted. "When I thought you was gone. When you didn't…show up in the woods? Thought if you'da done what I said…wouldn'ta gotten lost. But…"

"But what?" Carol asked.

Daryl chuckled.

"But then your ass come traipsin' outta them woods like a damn dog been on a run—and I was so damn happy to see you? Forgot I was pissed," Daryl said. "Don't see much sense in being pissed now."

"We couldn't leave you all," Carol said. "I couldn't leave you there. Not knowing?"

He squeezed her a little tighter against him, quiet enough for a few moments that Carol thought he might have simply drifted off to sleep and, therefore, accidentally let the conversation fail for the moment.

"I don't reckon you're the kinda woman takes orders no way," he commented, surprising her once she'd settled into the idea that he was asleep.

The comment struck her.

"Daryl—" she said, not liking the taste of her own words, "I'm the kind of woman that's never done anything but take orders."

He hummed.

"That was before, maybe," he commented. "Before—you was the kinda woman would save our asses from that damn place. Before—"

But he broke off. Carol waited him out a moment, and then she decided to prod him on, rather than accept that he'd just fallen asleep again.

"Before what, Daryl?" She asked.

He was quiet for a second longer, but just as she'd started to give up and determine that this time, for real, he was asleep, he hummed.

"Nothin'," he said. "Don't—just let's sleep?"

"OK," Carol responded silently. She wondered what he might have been about to say, what he'd decided against, but she wasn't going to push it. She was already too tired to think too much and being wrapped in his arms that way, she just felt more exhausted. It wasn't the time to drag a conversation out too long. "I love you," she offered.

And in response, he tightened his arms around her, hugging her just a little harder for a second, and then he patted her arm with his hand and rubbed the same hand back and forth for the distance that it would reach.

Carol imagined that he stopped the action, when he fell asleep, but she couldn't be sure because he'd still been doing it when she drifted into her dreams.