AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

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

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Daryl had not found Henry. In fact, he'd actively avoided Henry as much as he might have avoided Ezekiel. He'd rounded up a few able-bodied men to help him make quick work of things, and they got everything moved in record time. By the time they finished, Daryl was sure that Henry would have come around, probably with Enid and probably to see about a meal, unless he'd already talked to Ezekiel.

That was a bridge to cross another time.

Michonne was the last one in the house after Daryl's hastily assembled "moving crew" had left. She'd left the children and Dog with a member of the community, and she'd helped Carol scramble to unpack things as fast as they could bring them in. As a result, a lot of the stuff was at least somewhat unpacked by the time that she was getting ready to leave.

Daryl found her in the bedroom with Carol. He kept quiet, not announcing his presence for a moment. The women hadn't heard him coming.

"I'm not sure, Michonne," Carol said. "I think I'd rather—it would go on this wall, wouldn't it? It would fit."

Daryl stepped to the side, able to peek into the crack of the semi-open door. Michonne walked over to Carol and touched her face in a very familiar way. Daryl could practically feel the tenderness of Michonne's touch.

"Listen to me," Michonne said. "It's fine in that room."

"In the basement it was right there," Carol said. "I could hear anything, Michonne. Even—silence."

Michonne kept her hand on Carol's face like she was grounding her. Her other hand went to her belly, and Carol covered both of Michonne's hands with her own hands—not recoiling at all like she did, sometimes, when other people touched her.

"I know exactly what you mean," Michonne said in an uncustomary soft voice. "We'll leave the crib in the nursery. Tomorrow morning, we'll go down together and we'll find a bassinette to put by the bed. If they don't have one? We'll have one built. OK? She's not going to come before the morning. And if she does? I'll get you a bassinette myself."

Carol looked a little relieved. She nodded when Michonne nodded at her, and Daryl saw Michonne brush Carol's cheek before she dropped both her hands.

"This house is nice," Michonne said. "You'll have plenty of room. And that kitchen's great. Double ovens—that's perfect for you."

"Not when the house is empty," Carol said. "I'm used to cooking for a crowd."

"Maybe we'll just come here," Michonne said.

"Henry probably won't come," Carol said.

"Don't count him out entirely," Michonne said. "Not yet. Do you need me to help you get sheets on your bed?"

"I can handle it."

"I don't want you straining yourself too much," Michonne said. "It's about time you started to rest some. Build up some strength. Take care of yourself. You'll have plenty of time to wear yourself down when you're keeping up with a newborn's schedule."

"Mich…" Carol said.

Michonne turned around from where she'd started doing something—presumably looking for the sheets, though Daryl couldn't see her when she was bent over. He did see the way she looked at Carol when she turned and straightened her body.

"What?" Carol asked.

"Nothing," Michonne said. "It's just—that's what Andrea called me. And…for a minute? I guess…you reminded me of her."

"I'm sorry," Carol said.

"No," Michonne said. "I like being reminded of her. And I like—when you call me Mich. Please—don't stop?"

Carol nodded her acceptance.

"I can handle the sheets," Carol said. "Really. And I thank you for—everything you've done today."

"Do you feel better?"

"Getting things unpacked is helping," Carol said.

"And tomorrow we'll get the rest unpacked," Michonne said. "So, leave whatever you don't have to have tonight. We'll get the bassinette tomorrow, and we'll go through some things I had for R.J. We'll fix you up a little basket here, and put everything else you need later in the nursery."

"Will you tell Jude that—we'll miss our nights together?" Carol asked.

"I'll tell her you're looking forward to her spending the night sometime," Michonne said with a nod. "Especially once the baby's here and you're settled. She really did try to help a lot with R.J., and I'm sure she'd love to help you with your little girl…she needs a name soon, you know."

"We'll work on it," Carol said. "When everything settles."

"Don't let that be too long," Michonne offered. "OK—I'm going to find my children. I'll bring Dog back, but we're not coming in. I'm just going to open the door and let him in."

Carol thanked Michonne once more and Daryl scrambled to move as quickly and quietly as he possibly could away from the door. He did his best to try to look like he was just casually coming that way—having just come up the stairs—but he wasn't entirely convinced that Michonne, when he met her, believed him. Still, she didn't say anything, and she didn't turn him in as a spy. She simply told him goodnight and that she'd drop Dog by, and he told her thanks for everything she'd done.

She let herself out, and Daryl stood outside the bedroom door a moment longer, simply gathering up the strength and frame of mind to go inside.

Inside, Carol was working on putting sheets on the bed. Daryl immediately fell in to help her. Silently, they stretched the sheets over the mattress, and Daryl came around to unpack the blankets and help pull them into place while Carol shook pillows into clean pillowcases.

When the bed was done, it looked inviting. Daryl had a feeling in his gut, though, like he didn't belong there.

"You mad we're here?" Daryl asked.

Carol gave him an unconvincing, tight-lipped smile.

"It's a nice house, Daryl."

"But it ain't where you wanna be."

Carol sighed.

"I want to be anywhere with you," she said. "And I mean that. The woods, or…the little house outside the Kingdom. Michonne's basement…or this house."

"It'll be our home," Daryl said.

"I'm sure it will be," Carol said. "And that makes me very happy."

"You just don't seem happy," Daryl said.

"I guess—I've got a lot on my mind."

"Like?" Daryl asked.

Carol walked around to the side of the bed where he was standing and sat down on the edge of it. She ran her fingers lazily back and forth over her belly. He knew the pattern well enough, now, to know it was an indication that their daughter was on the move. Daryl sat down beside her and rested is palm over the swell of her stomach. Carol smiled at him and moved her hand, making her whole belly available to him. He was right. The baby was kicking. These felt like solid kicks. Daryl smiled at Carol.

"That don't hurt?" He asked, shaking his head.

Carol laughed quietly to herself.

"I love to feel her moving," Carol said. "But—sometimes it hurts. Or—not that it hurts, exactly, but…she's got a few places that she can hit that can be uncomfortable."

"Whole damn thing seems uncomfortable to me," Daryl mused. He hummed, thinking about his own words. "Probably why God made it so that it was you that was doing it and not me."

"I'll take it," Carol offered, covering her stomach with her own hand again. Her fingers bumped against Daryl's and he trailed his hand close enough to caress her fingers with his own.

"I'm not good at sappy ass apologies," he said. "But I am sorry."

"It's a good thing that I don't like sappy ass apologies," Carol said with a laugh. "I just want to know—what I did."

"That's the thing," Daryl said with a shrug, sitting back on the bed. "You didn't really do shit, I guess. You were—nice to Ezekiel."

Carol laughed to herself.

"He's Henry's father," Carol said. "And—my ex-husband, and a good friend, Daryl. Don't forget—he was there for me when I needed him to be there."

"And I weren't," Daryl said.

"I didn't say that," Carol said.

"But you didn't not say it," Daryl said. "Anyway—it's the truth."

"My being nice to Ezekiel, Daryl, is no different than my being nice to Michonne. Or Jerry. Or Siddiq. He's a friend. You're my husband."

Daryl's heart beat rapidly at the words and the reminder that he was, as she said, her husband.

"He used to be," Daryl said.

"You and I both know what that was," Carol said.

"Ezekiel don't."

"He does," Carol said.

"I think he's—wantin' you back."

Carol grinned at him—the kind that turned one side of her mouth up slightly more than the other and caused her eyebrows to arch mischievously.

"I am pretty irresistible," she said. "Especially now that—I'm finding it difficult to stand up on my own."

Daryl rolled his eyes at her and she laughed. She reached over and put her hand over his, and he turned his hand to hold hers.

"What do you want me to say, Daryl? He has feelings. I can't change that." Daryl frowned at her. Her expression changed—it wasn't exactly a frown, but she made it clear that she was thinking about things. "I'll talk to him," she said. "No matter what, though? Daryl—I love you. If you remember, it was you that I kept coming to see in the woods and…it was you who did this to me."

Daryl felt his face run warm as Carol gestured to her belly.

"I kept sendin' you back there. Back to him. Wanted you to be safe. Thought he'd be safer—he could offer you somethin' safer. Somethin' better. He reminded me of that, and it pissed me off. Said he give you a whole damned Kingdom. Made you a queen. What the hell have I done except knock you up in a leakin' tent in the woods and haul your ass to Michonne's basement to live?"

Carol turned her body and stroked Daryl's face with her fingers.

"And I loved you in that tent in the woods," Carol said. "And I loved you in the basement. And I'll love you, here, in this house."

Daryl smiled at her. He caught her hand and pulled it around so that he could kiss her wrist and then her palm. Her smile changed slightly. The mischief came crawling back to her expression.

"But you better get your head out of your ass and stop calling me a whore in the middle of the street," she said.

"I never said whore," Daryl said.

"You meant it," Carol said.

Daryl didn't feel the laughter he'd felt from the teasing only a moment before.

"No," he said. "I didn't. I didn't mean any of it. I guess—it was hard to see you with someone else. It's been hard to see you with anybody else…thinkin' they might be better for you than me. Thinkin' that it couldn't be me."

"You never asked," Carol said. "I waited, but you didn't ask. Daryl—you wouldn't leave the woods for me. It was me that had to come out there to you."

"I thought I wasn't good enough," Daryl said.

"And—I felt like I wasn't good enough," Carol countered.

"We wasted a lot of time with not understanding each other," Daryl admitted.

"We did," Carol agreed.

"I'm outta the woods," Daryl said. "And—I'm not tryin' to go back unless, maybe, it's just for huntin' or somethin' like that. Hell—I asked you to let's have a house. That's about as damn domestic as I can get. But—you can't run no more. Not at all. And—you can only be, you know, dedicated to me."

Carol smiled at him, warmly this time. She laughed to herself.

"I moved into this damn house for you," she said, with absolutely no venom behind her words. She reached for Daryl's hand and pressed it to the side of her belly where Daryl felt the familiar thumping of their daughter's activities. "This is the biggest thing, I think, that I can commit to doing with you. She's the biggest thing that…I can commit to doing with you. After all this…after everything we've been through, we're making a family. I think we can work on not misunderstanding each other so much. Or, at least, on not letting it go on for…oh…nearly a decade?"

Daryl laughed to himself. His stomach still felt nervous, but he was feeling better and lighter.

"You're mine?" He asked.

Carol nodded her head gently. She smiled at him.

"You're mine?" She asked.

Daryl nodded.

"Only mine?" Daryl asked.

Carol hummed and hesitated a moment, and Daryl's stomach sank. How he felt must have shown on his face, because Carol's expression changed to one of concern and she touched his face with her hand.

"See—I think you're already misunderstanding me," Carol said. "And I haven't said a thing…"

"Your face said a whole fuckin' lot," Daryl said, an ache starting in his chest again.

"Do I get to explain myself?" Carol asked.

"You can start," Daryl offered.

Carol kissed his hand and worked it in hers. Then she placed it back on her belly.

"I only hesitated because…in that way? In a romantic way? Yes, I'm only yours. I love you, Daryl. I have loved you; I do love you, and I will love you. But—I'm a mama…and I love being a mama, and I don't want to lose that. Not ever again. And I am—and I have to be—dedicated to my children. Both of them. Henry and…her. And part of me…"

Daryl let her go on holding the hand she was holding, pressing it firm to her belly, because he sensed that she needed that. He touched her face, though, with his free hand and hushed her by pressing his fingers over her lips.

"You're the best mama," he said. "To…to Henry…hell, he don't even know how much you love him. How damn much you would do for him. And to her. She don't know, either." Daryl shook his head at her. "I weren't askin' that. I wouldn't never ask that from you…I know you're dedicated to your job of bein' a mama, and I wouldn't have it no other way. Keepin' them safe? Makin' sure they grow up to live whole ass lives an' keep on goin' even when we're gone? I'm dedicated to that, too…the whole thing."

"Even—Henry?"

"Even Henry," Daryl said, nodding his head. "So, I weren't askin' that. And I won't never ask you that. I was askin' about…about this. About our marriage, I guess."

"Then, if that's what you're asking," Carol said. "Then, I can say, without hesitation, that it's only you, Daryl."

Daryl simply sealed things by touching her jaw and turning her face so that when he moved to kiss her, their mouths lined up. She responded by simply kissing him back with as much enthusiasm as he could ever ask from her.

They understood each other, now, where it was most important—they had all the time that the world would give them to work the tangles out of all the little things.