AN: Here we go, another chapter here.

Just a warning, I had to change the rating on this one. Sexual situations to follow.

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

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Henry had returned with four rabbits—more than enough for a feast for three people and one dog.

Daryl had insisted on skinning the rabbits and preparing the food. He'd given Henry the task of using the tarps and blankets out of the back of the wagon to make sure that the tents would be dry if the rain came. The tarps, in particular, spread out in the bottom of the tents would help a little with the seepage that would come up from the ground.

Henry hadn't argued with Daryl's instructions, and he hadn't argued, either, when Daryl had mentioned in passing that they would be striking out for the house the next morning—just as soon as they'd had the opportunity. Henry hadn't said anything about it at all until he was in the larger tent with Carol and she was helping him arrange the tarps and blankets.

"I guess you told him," Henry said.

"I did," Carol said. "He could see it well enough, though, so I don't think I could have kept it a secret for long."

"Is the baby big?" Henry asked. "Or are you just...small?"

Carol laughed to herself.

"I don't know," she said. "I guess we'll say—maybe it's a bit of both."

"It worries Dad," Henry said. "I heard him say it to Jerry."

Carol nodded her head.

"And it'll probably worry Daryl," Carol said. "Men—sometimes don't know what to worry about. The ones that want to worry, I mean. And so they find something that they think they can fix. And they try to fix it. It's a way to show love. Just like—you wanted to hang around the camp in case I needed you to fix something with Daryl."

She could see on Henry's face that she'd guessed correctly. He looked a little sheepish.

"He did get angry," Henry said.

"He won't hurt me," Carol said. She reached for Henry and he came toward her and wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the embrace before she planted a kiss on the side of his head. "I promise. I'm not afraid of Daryl. He won't hurt me. He might—yell. And he might—disappear. But he's not going to hurt me. Not physically. And I appreciate your trying to protect me, but that's not your job. It's my job to protect you."

"I want to take care of you, too," Henry said.

"You do," Carol assured him.

"The tarps are—for you?" Henry asked.

Carol laughed to herself.

"And the blankets," Carol said. "Apparently I'm more susceptible to cold and damp now than I ever have been before."

"Daryl's idea?" Henry asked.

"Sort of," Carol said. "My idea to hold off some of his worry until we can get to the house tomorrow."

"It's probably better," Henry said. "Dad was worried about the cold, too. He worried it would make you—make you sick again. The rain."

"Everyone worries about the same things," Carol said. "Still—whether the cold or the rain is bad for me, we're all going to be warm and dry tonight. I'm leaving these extra blankets in your tent for you. We'll have body heat. You won't. But if you get cold—and I mean this—if you get too cold? You come and tell me."

"I'll be fine, Mom," Henry said with some laughter.

Carol pulled him to her and kissed the side of his head again. She smiled to herself when she felt the warm pressure of him pressing his hand to her belly.

"Still there?" She asked.

Henry affectionately rubbed her belly.

"You haven't said if you want a boy or a girl," Henry said.

"I've had both," Carol said. "And—I've loved both. Both are—wonderful. So whatever I get? I won't mind either way. The only thing I ask is that it's strong and it's healthy and—that's it. It's strong and it's healthy." She smiled at Henry. "You never said if you wanted a brother or a sister."

"Doesn't matter either way," Henry said. "Honestly? I just want what you want. I want you to be happy."

"Well, I am that," Carol assured him.

"Will he stay?" Henry asked.

"Will who stay?" Carol asked.

"At the house," Henry said. "Will Daryl stay?"

Carol nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah. He'd rather stay there than—come back to the Kingdom. And I think, maybe, that's for the best. It's close to the Kingdom, but..."

"But it's not as weird," Henry said.

"I guess you could say that," Carol said.

"What about Dad?" Henry asked.

Carol hummed at him.

"Your father and I will speak to the Kingdom," Carol said. "I'll continue to help him rule from—from outside the Kingdom."

"And you won't be married anymore," Henry said.

Carol shook her head.

"We won't," she said. "I understand if—you need to take some time to deal with that."

"He'll still love you," Henry said.

Carol nodded and smiled to herself.

"And I'll still love him," she assured Henry. "There are lots of different kinds of love, Henry. You'll learn that even more as you grown. The love I have for your father is very, very different than the love I have for Daryl—but it doesn't make it any less valuable. Love is always important. And it's always beautiful."

"Will I be able to—visit you?" Henry asked.

"Oh—sweetheart," Carol said, "my home is always your home. You can stay with me as much as you like. Daryl is never going to tell you that you can't."

"I want to be there—when the baby comes," Henry said.

Carol nodded at him.

"You can be," she said. "But—you may not want to be. Or—maybe you may not want to be entirely there. We have time to talk about that, though. The baby isn't coming tonight or anytime soon. Come on. We need to get your tent ready before the rain starts. Help me up. I may not be as young as I used to be."

Henry did help Carol up. He was happy about being able to offer her help in any capacity.

"We'll blame it on the baby," he said.

Carol laughed to herself. She brushed her fingers over the bump that Henry had so loving caressed earlier.

"You're right. We'll blame it on the baby and not at all on my old knees," Carol said. "Come on. I don't want you getting cold tonight. Everyone's worried about me and—I'm really just worried about you."

Henry laughed.

"You always are," he teased. "But I've got six blankets here, Mom, I think I'm going to be fine."

"Don't you tell me not to worry," Carol teased. "I'll worry if I want to. It's a mother's prerogative. And as long as I'm pregnant—I get to do what I want."

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Carol was so full that she'd spent at least an hour after she'd eaten just sitting and praying silently that her food settled and didn't insist on coming up again. Henry and Daryl had both pushed food at her until she'd eaten more in one meal than she'd eaten in most of the meals, combined, that she'd consumed since she'd gotten sick.

She was feeling settled, now, and content. The uncomfortable fullness had passed.

Outside, the rain was pouring down just as Daryl had predicted, but they were warm in the tent. The small camping lantern flickered at the side of the tent to keep them from being in absolute darkness. Daryl watched her as she peeled out of some of the excess pieces of clothing that she was wearing so that she could be comfortable enough to sleep. She burrowed her way out of her pants and took the washrag to rinse herself off with the water that he'd brought into the tent in a small bowl.

He called the baths "whore baths" and claimed they were mostly for hitting the high spots. He wasn't wrong, but it did the trick. Daryl had already washed off, and he was under the cover.

"You ain't gonna be cold?" He asked when Carol didn't put her pants back on.

"What do you have on under there?" Carol asked.

"Nothin'," Daryl admitted.

"Are you cold?" Carol asked.

"No," Daryl said.

"Me either," Carol said. "In fact—I have to admit that I'm feeling a little bit like a furnace these days."

"You done?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah," Carol said.

"Blow out the lamp?" He asked. She did what he asked her to do, and then she sat still a moment while her eyes adjusted. She felt Daryl's hand searching her out and, as soon as she took his hand, he tugged at her to lead her to where he was lying.

Daryl raised the side of the blanket and Carol moved around to slide under it. She slipped next to him and rested her head over his arm. He pulled her in closer to him and she gave him the kiss that he requested.

It felt good to be next to him again. It had been a long time—longer than she liked for it to be. She fought against the fast beating of her heart when her brain reminded her that, if he didn't change his mind in the morning, Daryl would be going to the little house. He'd be going there to stay. And Carol would be joining him.

And it almost made her dizzy, but she didn't want to scare him.

When his hand found her breast and massaged it, she moaned into his mouth. Her breasts were sore and tender, but she didn't want to discourage him, so she didn't say anything. She held her breath and bit her lip to swallow back her desire to protest his accidentally rough treatment of tissue he didn't know was more tender than usual. Finally, she leaned forward and whispered to him.

"Gentle," she said softly. "Please. It's so good...but gentle."

She kissed him and he softened his touch.

"Better?" He asked when their lips broke apart.

"Mmmm hmm," she hummed at him. She allowed her hands to trail over his body and she let her fingertips trace the familiar curves of his muscles and the soft skin of his scars.

He slipped his hand down and Carol felt his fingers slide from her breasts over the swell of her stomach. His warm hand stopped, palm flat, on her belly.

"Say something," she urged after a moment of stillness and silence.

"Mine?" He asked.

"Yours," Carol assured him. She covered his hand with her own.

"You sure?" He asked.

"Couldn't be more positive," Carol assured him.

"Does it—move yet?" Daryl asked.

Carol laughed quietly.

"I'm sure it does," she said. "But—I can't feel it. So you can't either. Not yet." Daryl was quiet for a moment. "I understand if you—don't want to come back with me, Daryl. I do. But I wanted you to know about it. I wanted you to—just know. But even if you don't, Daryl, I need you to know that I do want this baby. And, if I can, I'm going to have it."

"Want you to have it," Daryl said. "If that's what you want."

"If you want to stay," Carol said. "If you don't want this...all of this. The commitment..."

Daryl slipped his hand out from under hers. He trailed it farther down. When he found her nub, he pressed it. Rubbed it beneath his fingertips. Carol sucked in a breath. Daryl continued to rub her. His lips sought hers and she panted into his mouth as he worked her carefully according to what he'd learned from her in the past. He'd learned that spot, in particular, got her attention.

"Mine," he said when their lips pulled away. This time it wasn't a question. It was a statement—strong and clear and with just enough force behind it that Carol understood he wanted her to confirm that she understood what he was saying.

She did understand.

"Yours," she breathed out.

In the darkness, Daryl shifted. Immediately, he was over her. He spread her legs apart. He must have been as blind as she was, but she felt him searching her out. She felt when he found what he was looking for. When his fingers found her and his tongue followed. She closed her eyes and let her mind explode with all the sensations that his sucking and lapping brought.

He would tell her he was no good at sex—and maybe she was no good at it either and so she knew no different—but she thought he was wonderful.

Her body was already shaking, rocked by one explosion of pure bliss that had stunned her senses for a second, when he took his position above her and pressed against her. She spread her legs a bit more to more comfortably accommodate him.

"Stop?" He asked.

"No," she breathed out. "Please. No."

Daryl accepted her invitation and he pressed into her. Carol let him have everything, from that moment, just as he wanted it. She moved her hips when she didn't feel they were practically pinned to the hard ground, and she accepted the speed and strength of Daryl's thrusts as they most suited him. He offered her his mouth and she swallowed up the satisfied noises that escaped him as he finally stilled upon finding his release.

He stayed where he was for a moment until he finally slipped free from her body. Carol would cuddle with him. She would enjoy the afterglow. He would fall asleep quickly, because he always did, and she would leave the blankets long enough to reliever herself in the bucket he'd brought in and tucked in the corner, and to wipe away what he had left behind—the same as she had, no doubt, the night they'd conceived the little one she now carried.

Her body felt satisfyingly sore after the encounter. Muscles had performed movements and adjustments that they hadn't made in some time. She would sleep well, still feeling his presence in more ways than one.

When Daryl settled down next to her, he pulled her over to him and kissed her mouth again before he kissed the side of her face.

"We'll leave for the house in the morning," Daryl said.

Carol swallowed. She smiled to herself and accepted his answer on the matter.

"You're sure?" She asked.

"Positive," Daryl responded.

"I'm glad," she said.

He kissed the side of her face again.

"Mine," he said once more. This time it came out with more reverence than it had the time before.

"Yours," Carol said.

"You're sure?" Daryl asked.

Carol smiled to herself.

"Positive," she assured him.