AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

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

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Carol closed the bedroom door behind her on her last trip to the bedroom.

"He's asleep," she said with a sigh. There was a smile playing at her lips and there was a lightness in her step. Daryl knew who she was talking about. Dog might very well be asleep, but he'd been passed out on the rug since not too long after he ate his dinner and, though Carol was affectionate with the animal, she wouldn't be reporting on his sleep patterns.

They had eaten and, after dinner, Henry had helped Carol clean the kitchen while Daryl had pumped water and heated it for baths for everyone. The house was still and quiet now. Daryl was reading one of the books that he snagged from the Hilltop by lamplight while he waited for Carol to finish what felt like her tenth trip around the house to make sure that everything was how she needed it to be before she closed her eyes.

When she came into the room with an air of finality, Daryl put the book on the nightstand and patted the mattress beside him. Carol smiled at him and walked around the bed. She crawled onto her side of the mattress and Daryl waved at her to turn around. She did what he asked and he moved her braid over her shoulder so that he could reach her neck and shoulders to knead the muscles there.

Immediately, she slumped a little with the pleasure and groaned at him in a way that had him mentally telling parts of his body to wait their turn—if they were patient, there was a chance that they might have some input in the way the evening went.

"You glad to have him here," Daryl said.

"I know he's—almost grown," Carol said. "And I know he doesn't need his mother and I probably shouldn't check on him…and he's going to be starting his own life soon…"

"But you love him," Daryl said. "And there's nothin' wrong with that, and it doesn't ruin his chances at having a life because you checked to see if he was sleeping. Right now? It does you good. You've still got knots as big as baseballs in your back and shoulders, but they ain't as tight as they were."

Carol hummed at him.

"Because you're taking such good care of me," she offered.

There was a flutter in Daryl's gut over the words of appreciation and approval.

"I want to," he offered.

"You do," Carol insisted.

"Not like—I want to," Daryl said. He stopped massaging her shoulders and she turned around to look at him. Then she turned her whole body so that she could actually look at him without craning the neck that he'd just worked to relax a little.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"If I had been able to give you everything I wanted to," Daryl said, "then you wouldn't have ever needed to marry the King."

"We were both in different places then," Carol offered.

"I left," Daryl said.

"I did too," Carol said. "In my own way. Maybe we both did. We both—had things to deal with. Maybe we still do. I know—I know there's still so much that I haven't dealt with, Daryl. Not really. There's still so much that I keep stuffing down every time it comes up. Maybe you have the same things to deal with—or your things, but…"

She sighed.

"I know what you mean," Daryl offered.

She laughed to herself.

"I don't know what's wrong with my brain right now," Carol said. "It's like I can't stay on one thought. I just—jump to something else right in the middle of my thought."

"You're tired," Daryl offered. "Tired and you been worried and…you just gotta rest."

"My point was that, maybe, we both left, but we never left each other entirely," Carol said. "And now we're here. I'm not planning on leaving again."

"I don't want to leave," Daryl said. "Want to stay right here—because I know you're happy here. But if I ever do have to leave again, I don't want to leave without you."

Carol smiled at him. She puckered her lips at him and he leaned into her to steal a kiss from her lips.

"Or her?" Carol asked.

"Or her," Daryl said with a laugh. "But I'm not used to the idea that—this ain't always a package deal. I'm not used to the idea that, one day, you and her are going to be two entirely separate people."

"Give it some time," Carol said.

"Henry asked me today if I love you," Daryl said.

"Can I ask you what you told him?" Carol asked.

"If you gotta ask me what I told him, then I done a shittier job at this than I thought," Daryl said. He got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom. It functioned for little more than a place to keep a piss bucket and a bowl of water. It was also a decent place for Daryl to stand and smoke so that he at least felt that some of the smoke drifted out of the bathroom window and not back on Carol.

She never complained either way, but he figured he'd do his best to be at least somewhat respectful of the air that was getting filtered through to the baby she carried.

"I know you love me," Carol said. "Or—I believe you do. But…"

"Go ahead," Daryl pressed, lighting his cigarette and pushing Carol to continue talking once she tried to stop.

"I might like to hear it every now and again," Carol offered.

Daryl nodded.

"That's fair," he offered. "I do. I love you. I mean—like I told Henry, I don't have all that much to compare it to, but I know that I love you as much as I've ever loved anybody."

Carol laughed to herself.

"And I love you as much as I've ever loved anybody," Carol said.

"But see, I knew that," Daryl offered.

"Because I say it more often," Carol said. "But—isn't it still nice to hear?"

"It is," Daryl ceded. "And I'ma do better. This is a whole new life, right? For both of us."

"We get to start over," Carol said.

"You might be startin' over," Daryl said. "But it's like I'm not even doing that. This? It's like—nothin' I've ever experienced before. I've never had a…a…a woman before."

Carol smiled. It was sincere, though, and not at all the expression she gave him when she was giving him shit.

"What?" He asked.

"I like the sound of being your woman," Carol offered.

"Shut up," Daryl said. "You want me to call you queen or somethin'? That better?"

"I'm being serious, Daryl," Carol said. "I'd rather be—I'd rather be your woman a thousand times over being the King's queen."

"You know he calls me your beau?" Daryl said. "What the hell am I supposed to do with that?"

Carol laughed.

"He calls you my Wildman when you're not around," Carol said. "Do you prefer that?"

Daryl considered it. While he walked a few short paces around the bathroom.

"I do, actually," he said. "You can tell his majesty that I'd rather be a Wildman than a beau if it ain't gonna be my name that comes up most often in his little fantasy land."

"Then I'll make sure that he knows," Carol said. "And I stand by what I said. I'd rather be a Wildman's woman than a King's queen any day."

"I don't know how to do any of this," Daryl said. "I mean—to be a Wildman I don't guess takes much work, but—the rest of this? Being a good man to you and taking care of you like I want, givin' you everything I want, takin' care of…of a baby? Carol, I'm way fuckin' over my head. And I don't know what I'm doing and it kind of makes me feel like I can't breathe."

"Like you want to run for it, again?" Carol asked.

"I'm not going to run," Daryl said. "But that's the feeling."

"You're taking care of me," Carol said. "And I know a little bit about babies, you know. I could teach you what you want to know about—anything. This is new to you, Daryl. But it's new to me, too."

Daryl finished his cigarette and came out of the bathroom. For good measure, he closed the bathroom door behind him to try to get the smoke to waft out of the window in his absence.

"That's just it," Daryl said. "It's not new to you. You know about babies, and you've been married before."

"And the one thing I could teach you about marriage is how not to act," Carol said, "but I don't believe you'd act like that anyway. So, this is all new to me, too. When I was pregnant with Sophia…it was always better if we didn't talk about it. It was certainly better if it wasn't an inconvenience. And Ed didn't want to see pictures of the baby or…any of that."

Daryl came to her side of the bed and sat down. On the nightstand next to her side of the bed was the frame with the pictures in it. Daryl reached and picked it up. He let his eyes trail quickly over the already well-memorized pictures.

"She's my daughter," Daryl mused.

"She is," Carol said. She crawled over behind Daryl and wrapped her arms around him from behind. She rested her chin on his shoulder and he let himself enjoy the hug and the feeling of pure and absolute affection wrapping around him.

"I want you to talk about her," Daryl said. "Makes her feel real."

"It does," Carol agreed.

"Talk about every day," Daryl said. "Whenever you want. And I want you to do whatever you got to do. Whatever you feel like doing. You ain't an inconvenience and she ain't an inconvenience. If it weren't for her? I might still be in the fuckin' woods right now. Mighta wintered hard out there while you was still at the Kingdom. If it weren't for her? We mighta never made it here for more than a night or two. I want you to tell me—everything that you wanted before. Everything you never did and never got…and never got to do. I want'cha to have it all. Do it all. Hell—I might not be perfect, and I might not be able to give you everything, but I want a chance to give you everything I can."

"I think you're pretty close to perfect," Carol offered.

Carol kissed the side of his face softly. A shiver ran through Daryl's body and she laughed quietly. She felt the shiver, too, and she responded to it by teasing him and nipping at his ear before she kissed down his neck. He changed his position slightly as her interest ran through him.

"You tryin' to kill me," he said.

"I'm trying to love you," Carol said.

"You about to start something that you probably don't mean to start," Daryl offered. "You keep kissin' me like that."

Carol laughed quietly and did just that. She kissed him again—soft and wet. She trailed her kisses down his neck, sucking and nipping at his skin.

"Shit…" Daryl responded. "You don't know what the hell you doin' to me."

Carol laughed quietly and blew her breath against his ear. She reached around him and rubbed him through the cotton of his underwear.

"I know exactly what I'm doing," Carol said, her mouth close to his ear. "And from the feel of things? I'm not doing it too badly. Daryl—did you get around to oiling the springs like you said you would?"

"First damn thing I done when we got here," Daryl said. "When I come in here to unpack some of that shit Ezekiel sent from the Kingdom."

Carol moved around Daryl then and pushed his shoulders so that he simply got onto the bed to make things easier for her. Teasing to draw it out and enjoy it longer was one thing—it was something they both enjoyed—but there was no need in pretending that either of them had any doubt where this was headed. As soon as he was more accessible, Carol leapt toward him and kissed him hard.

There was a certain type of aggression in Carol's kisses that hadn't always been there. Maybe it came from the baby she carried. Maybe it came from the fact that they were unpacked and settled in the little house. Maybe it came from the confidence that Henry wasn't going to turn his back on her and Daryl wasn't going to leave her—even as far as the Kingdom, she was keeping her security. Maybe it was a bit of everything.

But Daryl appreciated the touch of aggression and hoped that it stayed, especially as it blended with the tenderness that he usually found with her.

Carol took his hand and guided it to the band of her cotton panties. He rubbed the skin there for a moment before he slipped his hand further down. His fingers slid through the soft curls and found the spot she wanted him to find. She panted into his mouth before returning to the kiss and he worked the nub she'd sent him after. Then, he surprised her by sliding his hand forward and, finding his way through the slick folds of skin, he quickly hooked his finger inside of her and worked the nub with his thumb.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she broke the kiss with a gasp for air.

"Is that bad or good?" Daryl asked. He froze, not sure what to do.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, but he could feel her muscles squeezing him. She rocked her hips and Daryl returned to what he was doing. She went for his underwear and, tugging at it, she told Daryl what she wanted. She allowed him his hand back, trailing wetness between them, and he came out of his underwear while she slipped hers off.

She was on top of him and had him fully seated inside her before he could even offer to help.

He tugged at her nightgown.

"I hate this nightgown," he offered.

She laughed, moving her hips.

"What would you rather I wore?" She asked, helping him rid her of the offending garment.

"Nothing," Daryl said. "But—there's gotta be somethin' better we can find you. Potato sack—bedsheet. Hefty bag."

Carol put her hands on his chest and worked her hips.

"Whatever you want," she offered, "I'll wear."

"Sweet…fuck…" Daryl stammered out. "Holy…fuck…you really just…got this on your own."

Carol laughed, only stopping to growl out her own satisfaction.

"I can stop," she offered.

Daryl wasn't sure, though, how true that was. He didn't want to find out, though. He dug his fingers into the soft skin of her ass to help support her as she searched for what she wanted which, happily, turned out to be everything that Daryl needed. She came first, but when her walls pulsed around him, Daryl lost any control that he had left.

Panting, she fell forward on him and he did little more than rearrange himself so that she could lay against him comfortably. He wrapped his arms around her and held her while they both waited for their breathing to return to normal.

"I love you," Carol offered.

Daryl smiled to himself. It was his turn to put his money where his mouth was and use the words.

"I love you," he assured her. He was certain that it would become easier and easier to put voice to the feeling. He smiled to himself and squeezed her gently. "And—you only love me for the oxytocin."

Carol laughed. The laughter shook Daryl, too.

"That's not true," she said, kissing his neck where she could reach it.

"I know," Daryl agreed. She laughed again. "What?"

"I also love you for—your ability to stop the bed from creaking," Carol offered.