Chapter 33: Calm Before

"You been out here all night?" Merle asked, crossing the field to find Negan leaning against the wall, taking a quick break from what had felt like an endless patrol. Merle rubbed his hands together, and Negan nodded.

"Yeah. You my relief?"

"Yeah. Thought Tara was comin' out for the 2AM watch."

"Nah. I took a double. Told her to go home and get some sleep."

"Oh," Merle chuckled. "Trouble in paradise, huh? You and Lucy have a fight?"

"How the hell would you know that?" Negan asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Oh, my baby brother and Carol don't fight much, but I know when they piss each other off, one of 'em cools off by takin' an extra shift in the garden or at the wall or goin' on some stupid run that they ain't needed for. What happened?"

"Why the hell would I tell you? Matter of fact, why the hell do you care?" Negan asked.

"Hey, I ran outta good books to read. Humor me."

"It's nothing," Negan muttered with a shake of his head, looking off toward his place, where a light glow now shone from his bedroom window. Lucy must have woken up to use the bathroom or to check on Henry, he figured.

He pushed back off the wall and started walking again, slowly, with Merle walking right along with him.

"Well, whatever the fight's about, just give her what she wants. Don't need to have no lovers' quarrels goin' on when we got geeks tryin' to claw their way inside our happy home." He nodded toward the gates. "Just make her happy. Don't need no woman' poutin' 'round here."

"What the hell do you know anyway? You ever been married?"

"Christ, no," Merle laughed. "I was smart enough not to fall into that bear trap. But I know that sometimes the best thing to do is just to give her what she wants so she doesn't nag your ear off. You know you're gonna give in eventually, so stop bein' so goddamn stubborn. If I was stupid enough to get yanked down the aisle and my wife was as beautiful as Lucy, I'd give her whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted." He smacked his lips suggestively. Negan wasn't laughing.

"Listen, Dixon, why don't you leave your opinions out of my marriage. Did it sound like I was asking for it?"

"Maybe," Merle said with a shrug. He looked up at the navy sky and took a deep breath. "Sun's gonna be comin' up soon. Why don't you go home, crawl in bed with her, tell her you love her. Then when the sun comes up, you can look at each other again and decide if the fight was worth it."

"That's…actually not a bad idea," Negan chuckled. "Wow, I guess you are good for something once in a while after all." He looked off toward the house again, and the light was still on in the bedroom. With a deep breath, he started across the lot toward home to talk to his wife.

...

Carol slept soundly for a few hours, but by the time the sun began to peek over the horizon, she was restless. When she cracked one eye open, she saw Daryl sleeping soundly at her side. He was on his back with one arm draped over his eyes. She couldn't help but smile.

The morning air was cool, and Carol pulled the blanket up over both of them. Daryl moaned softly in his sleep but didn't wake. He wasn't always a heavy sleeper. Neither was she, really. But he'd worked hard the day before, and she knew he just might sleep through breakfast.

She was thankful for him. She smiled, biting her lip as she thought about their last few years together. Even though the circumstances of getting separated from the group had been tragic, she could think of no better outcome than the one they'd ended up with. She often lay awake thinking of what might have happened had they reunited with the group. Would she and Daryl have still fallen in love? Of that, she was sure. Would they have acted on it? Of that, she wasn't sure at all.

He was a different man than the man she met at the quarry. He was a different man than the man at the Greene farm. And he was a different man than the man she slept with all those years ago when it was just the two of them, baby Lydia and Dog on the lonely little farm. The thing was, she looked back on every memory she had of Daryl and with Daryl, and she loved him even more. He'd come so far, and she was grateful that he'd been reunited with his brother and gotten a chance to have a part of his first family back. Even though she knew there were a lot of bad memories for him, she knew he enjoyed having his brother in his life.

Since their little home had grown into a functioning community, she and Daryl had become leaders, delegating to Merle and Negan and Lucy to help things run smoothly around the place. To think that this little place they'd found to stay warm and safe until they figured out their next move had turned into a home and a place to raise their children was still astonishing. It took her breath away at times. If it hadn't been for finding Lydia, they probably would've moved on without a second though. Because of her, they'd stayed put, they'd made a home, they'd found happiness and love with each other.

Carol sighed softly and slowly got out of bed. She tugged the blanket back over Daryl and pulled on a robe. She padded down the hall, first peeking into Luke's room to find him still sleeping. Next, she checked on Lydia, who was up already and holding a book in her lap, quietly sounding out the words she knew.

"Good morning, sweetie," Carol whispered. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, Mommy," Lydia yawned. "Can we have breakfast?"

"Someone is feeling better," Carol laughed.

"Can I go over to Henry's to play?"

"We'll see," Carol smiled. "I'm glad you're feeling better, sweetheart." She kissed the top of Lydia's head and felt her forehead. Thankfully, the girl's color and temperature seemed to be back to normal. "Get dressed, baby. I'll go start breakfast."

"Okay, Mommy." Carol turned to leave the room, and once she got downstairs, she noticed Dog wasn't at the front door waiting like usual. Furrowing her brow, she turned to step into the kitchen, where she found him standing by the back door, rigid, eyes locked on the curtain-covered window.

"Dog? You want outside?" Dog didn't move. Instead, he let loose a low growl and bared his teeth. "What is it, boy?" She nudged Dog to the side. He growled softly and whined, and Carol felt like her heart was in her throat.

"Who's out there?" she called. No answer. She quickly peeked out the window but saw nothing. "Dog. Sit." Dog whined but did as she commanded. She hurried over to the fridge and stood on her tiptoes to reach the cabinet above it. She stretched until her fingers brushed over the cold steel of a pistol. She checked the chamber to find it was fully loaded, and with a steady hand, she reached for the lock on the door.

As soon as the door swung open, Dog leapt up and started whining again. The early morning air was cool and sweet, and there didn't appear to be any out and about quite yet. She was about to shut the door, when out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something cowering between the patio table and the wall of the house. She peered out into the early morning light and saw the messy blonde hair and little bare feet.

"Henry?" she asked. "Sweetheart, what are you doing here?" Dog came rushing out of the house then, and as soon as he saw Henry, he lowered his head and hurried over to lick his bare toes. "Dog. Back!" The dog yipped and moved back behind Carol, and she saw the boy jerk back in fear when she crouched down and reached out to touch his little foot. "Hey. It's ok. Henry, are you ok? Are you hurt?" He sniffled and shook his head. "Come here." She helped him up, and as soon as he was standing, she saw the blood spatter on his ripped shirt and sleep pants. Her hand moved to her chest, and she looked down at him. He looked up at her, his lower lip trembling. "Henry? Where's your mommy and daddy?"

"Something bad happened. I think my mommy's dead."