AN: Here we go, another little chapter here to get the story moving along some more.

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

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Carol had stewed over how to talk to Daryl after Glenn got her thinking about it. She was, although a little ashamed to admit it to herself, out of practice with talking to Daryl.

Because talking to Daryl, to her, had never been like talking to many of the other people around her. Daryl wasn't someone with whom she really talked about the weather. He wasn't one for that much small talk. He even avoided talking a good deal about Walkers unless it was actually discussing something of importance, something that needed to be looked into or taken care of.

Talking to Daryl was, at least at one time in her life, one of the easiest things for her to do…though she recognized that for as seemingly simple as he was, Daryl was a complicated man to try to have a conversation with.

Sometimes he simply wasn't willing to have a conversation…and trying to have conversation with Daryl when he wasn't in the mood to listen to you was about like trying to hold onto wind. Other times, though, he simply didn't seem to have anything to say.

And once upon a time that had never bothered Carol because she felt like she didn't always have something to say, or that what she had to say didn't really matter or wasn't really suiting to the moment, and those were the times that she'd felt close enough to Daryl to simply not say anything.

Yet somehow…they'd always managed to speak the most when they said nothing to each other.

Carol felt like, though, she'd lost the ability to do that with him. She'd lost the confidence, maybe, that she'd once had that she could communicate with Daryl, even when he didn't want to be reached…even when he was hiding away like the scared little boy that she knew that he could be.

Or maybe, since he'd made it clear how angry he was over what she'd done, she'd lost the comfort that she had. She'd lost the feeling that he would, for whatever reason, be there standing beside her.

And now she didn't know where to begin to do something as simple as initiate a conversation with the man that she'd once considered her best friend.

But she was going to try.

Carol wandered over to post as she was getting off first shift and checked the roster for second shift. Daryl was back from a run and scheduled to work second shift at one of the other houses where they were working to get running water going. Her house was almost done, they'd worked on it first shift, but it was taking them a few days to get things in order at any of the houses they were working at.

She knew which one it was, though. It was one of the houses over in the expansion where Michonne and Rick were living now. And she headed for it, even before she wandered down to the shower house to wash off the grime of having worked clearing Walkers all morning.

When she found Daryl, she lingered around and waited for him to take a break, still not having noticed her presence. She followed him over to the water buckets in the shade where he was going to get a drink to cool himself down some, and it was only then that he noticed her.

And when he noticed her, he jumped like he was shocked to see her, and then he turned silent to the water bucket and dipped himself out a cup of water. Carol wondered if she was making the right decision after all…

"Daryl…can I talk to you a minute?" Carol asked, deciding to go ahead with her plan.

He grunted at her while he drank down the water.

"Got a minute," he said when he'd swallowed. "Not much more'n that…gotta get back ta work."

Carol nodded her head, crossing her arms over her chest as though she were hugging herself against the discomfort she felt at the moment.

"I wanted to ask you if…you wanted to have dinner with me?" Carol asked.

Daryl furrowed his brows and stared at her. It did nothing for her confidence level at the moment.

"I thought that I could get food for us, from commissary," Carol said. "I could bring it to my house…we could eat there. We could talk or…I don't know…I've got some board games…"

Her heart was thundering in her chest because even as she said the words she couldn't, not even for one moment, believe that she'd just asked Daryl if he wanted to come to her house and have dinner with her followed by a spirited game of Battleship. If she'd been the woman that she was…the woman she was before she'd shucked off that woman…she would have simply turned around then and ran away.

But she stood there and waited for whatever might be coming. The offer was out there. It was up to him to accept it or reject it.

Daryl bit at his cuticle, despite the fact that his hands were filthy, and stared at her a second before offering her nothing more than the very slight movement of his head. It was so slight, in fact, that she wasn't even certain that it had been an affirmation at all.

"Yes?" She asked. "Yes you'd like to?"

"Yeah," he said. "I…uh…reckon that'd be OK."

Carol smiled and nodded her head back at him.

"Good," she said. "That's…great. I'll have it all ready…you just come when you're ready…after your shift or…"

"Gotta shower," Daryl said bluntly.

"Or after that," Carol offered.

He offered her the same slight nod of the head and she smiled again before she left him, without saying anything else, and went to get her own shower, getting ahead of the rush.

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Daryl was almost silent while they sat at the table and ate and Carol was having a hard time figuring out what to say. As the time went on, she was doubting more and more that she'd made the right call in doing this at all. She'd probably just jumped the gun.

But the meal over, and both of them having retired to the living room to sit awkwardly and stiffly, Daryl was actually the first one to break the silence, though Carol hadn't really expected him to say what he did.

"Beth…you know? She…uh…" Daryl started and then stopped, shaking his head. "She's just…gone…got kidnapped. Could be dead…might not be."

He scratched at his face and Carol was careful not to so much as move because she didn't want to startle him into stopping talking if this was something that he needed to say…something he needed to get out.

"I went after her…but I got caught up…another group," Daryl said. "Never knowed what happened to her for sure. She could be alive, could be dead. I…didn't find her…didn't think I could find her…"

Carol swallowed and nodded.

"You did what you could," she offered.

"Did I?" Daryl asked.

Carol didn't know how to respond. It was written on his face that he'd decided to talk about this because it was bothering him, but she didn't know how to comfort him and really make him feel any better.

"Daryl," Carol said. "You…went after her…and you don't have to prove to anyone that you would do what you can. You looked for Sophia…even when everyone else gave up on her. I can never thank you enough for that. I know…I know that you did what you could for Beth."

"I didn't save Sophia," Daryl said. "An' I didn't save Beth…"

He paused, but continued not long after, his thumb finding its way to his mouth in a telltale sign that he was uncomfortable with where he was headed with the conversation.

"An' I ain't sure I woulda saved you," he said.

Carol got up from the chair that she was sitting in and she crossed the room.

He'd said it before…and now he was saying it again.

She sat down on the couch and Daryl moved away from her a little, seeking something like refuge at the other end of the couch.

"You've saved me before, Daryl," Carol said. "And…I don't need you to save me anymore…but if you wanted to, you could."

Daryl didn't respond…not in any way at all. Carol couldn't even read what was in his eyes because either she was out of practice or there was too much there to even begin to sort it out.

"What happened?" He asked. "What happened with Mika an' Lizzie? I know you loved them girls…but you ain't never said what happened to 'em…"

Carol swallowed and shook her head at him.

He shifted a little in his seat, not hugging the end of the couch so much.

"I just told you what the hell happened to me," he said. "You asked me here…did you ask me here ta really play some game?"

Carol knew that if she was going to tell him, now was the time to tell him, but her stomach churned at the thought enough that she almost felt like she was fighting to keep the food she'd recently eaten down at all.

Because however he reacted would seal the deal. There wouldn't be any coming back from this.

She sucked in a breath, already feeling her hands begin to tremble with words that her mouth hadn't even said yet.

"Lizzie was…crazy," Carol said. "She had problems…problems she probably had before…but I didn't see them, or I wanted to believe that they weren't…that serious. I guess I tried to ignore them. But she never understood the Walkers…she never saw them as what they were. She was going to get herself…"

Carol stopped and was surprised when she felt Daryl, a man who wasn't one for too much touch unless it was of the playful variety, reach out and somewhat push at her shoulder like she was some kind of wind up toy that needed an action to keep going.

"She killed Mika," Carol said finally, and all at once because she couldn't draw it out. She didn't include any more of the details because they weren't necessary, really, for the story.

"An' Walkers got Lizzie?" Daryl asked, his voice low and solemn with the gravity of the story she was telling.

Carol shook her head, her hands still trembling beyond her control, even though she wrung them together and pressed them between her thighs to steady them.

"I…killed Lizzie," Carol said.

She looked away from him because even as she said the words the flood of emotion returned to her, just like it did every time she relived the moment in her dreams, and she didn't want to cry about it. She didn't want to go back there.

Daryl reached and caught her face. Even though she tried to tug away from him, he held her jaw in his hand and turned her face so that she was looking at him.

But he didn't say anything at all about it. He just sat there a moment in silence, staring at her…staring through her maybe.

And Carol didn't bother to offer any more of an explanation. She didn't know if it was necessary or if it would even matter. She might have argued her case for days, but it just seemed like it didn't matter anymore. She'd done what she'd done and that's really all it boiled down to in the end.

Daryl let go of her chin after a moment and returned to soothing himself by torturing his own hand with his teeth. When he stopped, he spoke again, his voice almost surprising her in the silence that had fallen around them.

"An' Tyreese?" He asked. "He…what'd he say?"

Carol furrowed her brow and shrugged slightly before shaking her head and struggling to figure out how to even answer the question.

"He…watched," Carol said. "He knew it was the best thing…we decided, together. It was the only thing. But he couldn't do it…and it was…it just needed to be me."

Daryl swallowed loudly enough that Carol heard it with the distance between them.

"'Cause you were all the mother she had," Daryl said.

Carol wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question, but she confirmed it with a slight nod of her head that hurt her neck because her muscles had gone so rigid with the memory and the fear of what might be to come. But she deserved it, she thought, if he was furious with her…she deserved whatever, really, he had to throw at her.

Except he didn't respond with any sort of anger. He sat there in silence for several moments, and she sat there, rigidly awaiting his judgment, until finally he spoke again, his voice low and his words somewhat muffled by the drawing out of them that showed they were weighed with consideration even as they were leaving his mouth.

"You did what you had ta do," he said. "You did…what you had ta do."

Carol was so shocked by the words that she couldn't even feel all the emotions that had been brewing around inside her chest for the moment. She looked at him and then watched as he got to his feet with a groan.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"Back ta my place," Daryl said. "It's late. You need ta sleep…gotta sleep…an'…I'm tired."

And Carol almost laughed out loud at the irony.

She got to her feet, though, no less shocked or confused than before.

"Are you…what are you?" She asked.

"I'm tired," Daryl repeated, starting toward the door.

"Are you…angry?" She asked.

Daryl stopped and turned around. He regarded her a moment…and she thought that he did look tired, even more tired than he'd looked only moments before.

He shook his head.

"Nah," he responded bluntly. "I'm not."

In silence Carol led him to the door and opened it for him to pass out of it and into the darkness.

"Thanks," he said as he stepped out. "For dinner…for…"

He stopped and nodded again.

"Thanks," he finished. "Do it again…sometime? The dinner?"

Carol wasn't even sure how to react at the moment, but she nodded her head with more enthusiasm than he'd shown.

"I'd like that," she said. "Thank you…"

And she felt so odd to exchange pleasantries like that after the confession that she'd made…his confession paling in comparison…but that's what they were doing and it wasn't three minutes later that he'd disappeared out of sight, headed in the direction of his apartment and Carol closed the door to her house, clearing the dishes while she relived the entire evening in her mind and wondered what it all had meant or what it might mean even when the sun came up.