AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

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

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

"He can stay as much as he wants," Daryl said. "That room—what the hell's it for if it isn't for Henry to stay there? He can move in if he wants."

Daryl hadn't really thought about Henry living with them. He hadn't really thought about them living together, honestly. It was all happening very quickly and very much without him having had a lot of time to think about any of it.

But as soon as Carol had sat down on the couch, with tears streaming down her face that she was trying to mop up with her palms, Daryl hadn't had to think much at all before he'd decided that he'd give her whatever she wanted—he'd give her anything to take that sadness away.

When he sat down beside her, she'd curled into him and practically folded herself up in his lap. He was happy to hold her, there, until she felt she could rise from her position. He was happy to listen to her as she poured out her feelings—feelings that she declared were probably crazy and unfounded.

Because he knew, and he remembered, everything she'd told him. He remembered the tearful confessions in his tent. He remembered holding her while she fought with her nightmares like she was fighting demon possession.

And if she felt afraid that she might lose again, he wanted to comfort her until she felt better.

"He'll stay with Ezekiel to protect him," Carol breathed out. "He feels like he has to. Like he can. To take care of him. To care for him. Because I hurt him and Henry might not forgive me for that."

"He's got nothin' to forgive you for," Daryl said. "You ain't been nothin' but honest with—with Ezekiel. Right? The whole damn time."

"But I wasn't honest with Henry," Carol said.

"And he's gonna get over that," Daryl said. "You ain't never done a thing to hurt him. Never. Not once. He's gonna get over the fact that he's got some hurt feelings 'cause things weren't exactly what he thought."

"He was fine while we were going to your camp," Carol said. "He was fine—after we talked to him. Ezekiel and I talked to him and he said he understood."

Daryl rubbed his hands over Carol's arms and held her close to him. Her tears were slowing down. She was calming. And he found the weight of her bearing down on him strangely soothing. He would stay there all night if that was what she wanted.

"Maybe it was just—seein' us in the house," Daryl said. "You know? Seein' it. Like it's all different an' he can see it for the first time. But he loves you and that ain't gonna change. You're his mom. You heard him. He's gonna be here tomorrow. Bright and early in the morning, probably. And when he comes, you just remind him that he can stay when he wants. Whenever that is."

"He might believe it more if—you were to say it," Carol said. "Really—say it and mean it?"

"Yeah," Daryl agreed. "Yeah. Sure thing. He comes and—I'll talk to him. I'll tell him. He's welcome here when he wants to come. He can stay—long as he wants."

"Thank you," Carol said softly. She rubbed her face against his chest. She probably dried her tears and snot on his chest. He didn't mind one way or another. "Thank you," she repeated.

"Yeah—any time," Daryl said. "Anything."

Carol drew in a deep breath and she sighed, blowing it out. She relaxed deeper into Daryl, if that were possible, and Daryl rubbed her arm again.

"You feelin' better?" Daryl asked.

"I just—don't want to lose anyone anymore," Carol said.

Daryl hummed at her.

"And you ain't," he assured her. "Ain't—ain't nobody going anywhere. Not me or Henry or…hell even Ezekiel. Told him that even he weren't goin' nowhere. Dog over there—he's in it for the long haul. Furry bastard's happy as shit to be a house dog."

At mention of his name, Dog lifted his head and his tail thumped loudly on the floor. He was clearly content with his new situation.

Daryl waited until he was pretty sure that Carol had calmed. He waited until she was quiet and content. Then he patted her hip where he could reach it.

"You said they was food in them cabinets?" He asked.

"Vegetables," Carol said.

"Wood in that stove your king found you?" Daryl asked.

"Stop," Carol said, sitting up. She smiled at him, though.

Ezekiel had sent scouts out scouring the area for a wood stove. One of the last times that he'd been in the little house visiting Carol, she'd been so excited to show him the stove that he'd joking told her he was afraid that he was losing her to Ezekiel forever. It seemed the King had found a way to speak directly to Carol's heart. He'd given her a quiet place to run away with a pump out back and wood-burning stove.

"Giving you a hard time," Daryl said. "But—you ain't eat since breakfast. And I know you like your meals regular. His highness got you spoiled like that. Let me know if I need to grab you some wood while I'm pumpin' a couple buckets of water and snaggin' us a lil' meat for tonight's table."

"It's late," Carol said.

"And squirrels are all over the damned yard," Daryl told her. "I won't go nowhere. Just—do you need wood?"

"The wood box is full," Carol assured him.

"Then you start warmin' up them vegetables," Daryl said. "If you OK to do that?"

"I'm fine," Carol assured him. He nodded his understanding that she was telling him the truth. She'd needed to get some of it out, and she'd needed to seek a little reassurance, but she was doing better.

"Then you start warmin' up them vegetables," Daryl repeated. "And I'ma be back in a few minutes with the rest of dinner."

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

The two oil lamps lit up the bedroom brightly enough that Daryl might have been convinced it was daylight. He wasn't accustomed to that much light at night. Still, it was a soft and flattering light because Carol looked beautiful in it. She looked beautiful in any light.

And Daryl was still wrapping his mind around the fact that this wasn't just a night or two. Not only was she not heading back to the Kingdom and was he not heading back to his now-dismantled camp, but Carol would probably feel betrayed and truly abandoned if he were to even suggest such a parting.

He'd lied awake more nights than he could count and thought about what it might be like if he lived an honest kind of life with Carol—the kind of life that maybe didn't even exist anymore—where they were some sitcom kind of couple with absolutely no problems that they couldn't overcome together.

His stomach ached with the strange mixture of anxiety and calm that came in waves when he thought that, maybe, they were as headed for that as they ever could be.

They were there together in the little house that they would call home, and Dog was sleeping just outside the bedroom door because he'd decided, on his own, that was where he wanted to sleep for the night. Things were already dropping into place.

Daryl had a straight view of the bathroom from the bed. He'd already washed off in the water warmed over the fire where Carol used to cook before she'd gotten a wood stove for the kitchen. Carol was in the bathroom, now, washing off by the light of another oil lamp.

Daryl watched her. His view of her was perfect.

He hadn't seen her naked, quite that clearly, in a long time.

She'd braided her hair back to keep it out of her face and it fell over her shoulder as she straightened up and dried off after her bath. Daryl watched her dry off and only called out to her when he saw her start to unfold the nightgown she'd taken into the bathroom.

"Leave it," he said.

"You don't want me to put it on?" Carol asked.

"You gonna need it?" Daryl asked. "Because—I didn't put nothin' on."

Carol did leave the nightgown. She blew out the bathroom lamp and walked to the foot of the bed. She unashamedly stood there, naked, with her hands on the brass bar at the bottom of the bed.

"Are you expecting something to happen?" She asked.

Daryl reached over and patted the mattress beside him.

"Nothin' you don't want to happen," he said.

She left her spot at the foot of the bed and walked around to her side of the bed to stand there for a moment. She smiled at him. She let just her fingertips touch the side of the bed. He licked his lips and shifted around to sit up on his elbow.

"I haven't seen you like this since the last time we were here," Daryl said.

"It's been a while," Carol said.

"Last time—it was cold," Daryl said. "Had to sleep on the mattress on the floor in front of the fire."

"Almost a year," Carol said. "It's getting cold again. It won't be long before we might need to move to the living room to be warm."

Daryl reached and flicked the blanket back. Talking about preparing for the winter made his stomach flip a little. It made him think about how real it was. And even though he was already welcoming in the idea of an entirely different life—the kind he'd only dared to even dream about before—it still made him nervous to be facing it head-on.

"We got blankets," Daryl said. "And we'll move the mattress when you're ready. Don't stand out there in the cold no longer than you got to, though."

Carol smiled at him. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Because I'm not fully healed yet?" She asked.

"That," Daryl agreed. "But—because you're too damned skinny. I thought your king was feedin' you but you really ain't much more than bones. You prob'ly freezin' to death."

Carol laughed to herself, but she did get into bed and slid under the cover. Rather than stay on her side, she immediately crossed the mattress and worked her way as close Daryl's body as she could. He welcomed the closeness and somewhat curled around her to bring her in even a touch closer. He kissed her and she returned it.

"I'm not skinny," she said. "I'm fat, remember?"

Daryl slipped his hand down and found the swell of her belly. He rested his palm over it and he felt the muscles beneath her skin bunch.

"Was that…?" He asked.

"Me," Carol said softly. "It's too soon for anything else. I think."

"This ain't fat," Daryl said. "You ain't fat. Couldn't see it with—with the potato sacks you been wearin'."

Carol laughed to herself.

"My clothes are comfortable," Carol said. "But if you don't like them…"

"You wear whatever you want," Daryl said. "I'ma still—still think you…ya know…pretty an' all in a potato sack. So, if that's what'cha like…I don't care."

Carol smiled at him. She nodded her head.

"Maybe—sometime when we're in the Kingdom or somewhere, you could go through the clothes," Carol said. "Find something you'd like for me to wear."

"And you'd wear it?" Daryl asked. Carol nodded. "Anything I wanted?"

"Well, at least—here," Carol said. "In the house. For you. If you'd like."

"I might like that," Daryl agreed.

"But just remember—for a little while? Daryl—I'm going to get bigger before…before I have any hope of this going away and, at my age, I don't really know how my body's going to look. I mean—if I carry the baby to full term."

Daryl's chest tightened at they way she said the words. Everything about the way she said them—all of them—tugged at him.

He kissed her, again, and shook his head at her when the kiss broke apart. He kept his hand resting gently over the swell of her stomach.

"It don't matter what you look like now or…then," Daryl said. "You gonna carry the baby to full term. We're gonna keep it safe. You don't gotta do it alone. And—no matter what you look like, I'ma think you're beautiful."

"Promise?" Carol asked.

Daryl smiled to himself at her expression. It was the most hopeful he'd seen her in a long time. For so long, life had beaten her down at every turn. He'd understood the feeling. She'd barely been able to find her feet before life took her down to the ground again.

But the ground was feeling a little more solid now and, even though there were some tremors, it wasn't enough to rob her entirely of the hope that there was still some good in the world and she might be worthy of some of it—especially when so much of it seemed so well within reach.

"You got my word," Daryl said. "For what it's worth."

"I can't lose you, Daryl," Carol offered quietly.

"You won't never lose me," Daryl assured her. "And if I got anything to do with it? You won't lose nobody again."

"It's the first night of—the rest of our lives," Carol offered. "Or is that—too cheesy?"

Daryl laughed to himself.

"Perfect," Daryl said. "Come here. Let's start it off right."