AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

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

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Daryl opened his eyes and felt the familiar twinge in his stomach—almost akin to the shock of realizing, suddenly, that he was falling when he thought he was on solid ground—that came with the view of a ceiling over his head. When he slept, his mind forgot where he was. He was so accustomed to waking up and seeing the canvas of his tent that he expected it when he woke now. A few days out of the tent wasn't enough to erase the conditioning of years.

Immediately, though, the shock wore off. He felt a hand press against his chest in a warm and soothing way. He didn't even need to look at her to know that she was there. She was touching him. She'd seen him jump upon waking and she'd pressed the hand gently to his chest as a quiet reminder that he wasn't alone—in the best way possible.

Daryl sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Her fingers brushed across his skin.

He rolled slightly to the side to look at her.

She had gone to bed with her hair in a neat braid. A couple of rounds of oxytocin-seeking, though, and a night of hard sleep meant that much of her hair had escaped her attempts to confine it. Some of it looped and curled and knotted over itself. Some of it stuck out as though she'd been recently electrocuted. Most of it spilled over the pillow where she rested her head and over the blanket that she'd pulled up over shoulders.

She touched him with one hand, and the other was tucked her head. Beneath the cover, Daryl was faintly aware of the coolness of the sheets—a testament to the fact that the fresh air coming in through the cracked windows was starting to mark the chill of a coming autumn—and the feeling of her foot brushing lightly against his shin and foot.

There was only the slightest hint of a smile on her face. Her eyes were slightly puffy with the recently departure of sleep. All of her other features looked as relaxed as he'd ever seen them.

Looking at her, at that moment, it made Daryl even more irritated that the Hilltop doctor—the only doctor currently available to any of them—had suggested that anything about Carol might be geriatric. She looked, to Daryl and in the moment, to barely be old enough to make it suitable that she was even in his bed—less likely that she was carrying his child and already the mother to a practically grown boy.

"Did something startle you?" Carol asked quietly.

"Not used to it yet," Daryl admitted. His voice practically sounded rocky. His vocal cords were still sleeping.

"Regrets?" Carol asked.

He took her hand from his chest and she curled her fingers around his as he pulled her hand upward. He kissed her fingers.

"No," he said, careful to make sure that there was enough force behind the word that she wouldn't doubt him. She smiled sincerely and readjusted her position just a little. He felt her foot brush affectionately against his leg again. He smirked at her and raised his eyebrows. "A little terrified, though. How long you been lookin' at me while I was asleep?"

Her face told him the journey that she went through. She worried, for a moment, that he was serious. She was sorry for looking at him and maybe bothering him in some way. Then she registered that he was teasing and relaxed a little.

"I've been awake for a little while," Carol said. "I had to pee. I couldn't hold it and then—I couldn't go back to sleep."

"So, you just been layin' there?" Daryl asked.

"It was quiet," Carol said. "And…cold. And I was just thinking—how good it felt."

"Yeah?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah," Carol said. Her cheeks blushed a light pink and the smiled returned to her features. Daryl's heart suddenly started to beat a little faster. He didn't want to do anything to disturb the feeling that had settled down around and between them both. It was like a cloud had settled in like a fog of happiness.

At least, Daryl knew that he felt happy. It was an odd sensation in his gut, and he was still learning to accept its presence there.

"You happy?" Daryl asked.

"Mmmmhmmm," Carol hummed. "Why wouldn't I be?" She asked. "Henry is sleeping in the other room and…you're here."

"You cold?" Daryl asked, noticing the way she had the blanket caught between her neck and shoulder. She was naked beneath it, as was he. He didn't know, though, if her attachment to the cover had to do with being cold or enjoying the comfort it offered.

"Mmmhmmm," Carol hummed again. "A little."

As if to illustrate her point, she shivered slightly and rooted into the bed. It wasn't cold, exactly. They kept the windows in the little house raised to keep air circulating throughout. Otherwise the house got stuffy and things started to mold and mildew where moisture got trapped inside.

"Come on over here," Daryl said. "Let me warm you up."

Carol looked pleased with the idea and worked her body over toward Daryl. He rearranged himself so that she could rest her head on his arm. She laid on her back and he laid on his side, somewhat able to wrap around her as he pleased.

"This OK?" She asked.

"You comfortable?" He asked.

"Are you?" She challenged.

"Yeah," Daryl confirmed.

"I mean—being here," Carol said.

Daryl laughed to himself.

"You done asked me that once," he offered. "I gotta answer it every five minutes from now until—until forever or whatever?"

"Maybe just once or twice more," Carol said. Daryl heard a hint of teasing in her voice, but there was something that made him feel like even her teasing was forced.

There were plenty of things that he needed reassurance about, especially in their relationship, and he didn't know how long he'd require that of Carol. He needed reassurance that she didn't regret her decision to give up her marriage—even though it had been a ruse—to Ezekiel. He needed reassurance that—even though he had a great deal to learn and wanted to learn much more—he was doing well at being the kind of man that she could and would voluntarily spend the rest of her life with. He needed reassurance that he was able to be everything he wanted to be.

She offered him reassurance whenever he needed it or wanted it. He could offer her reassurance when she needed it, too.

"I got no regrets," Daryl offered. "Right now? I'm the happiest I ever remember bein' since I even had memories. You got regrets?"

"I just told you I was happy," Carol said with a laugh.

"Maybe you just tell me once or twice more," Daryl said, he nuzzled against her face and she hummed in satisfaction.

"I have everything I could need or want," Carol said. "I don't think I could be happier."

Daryl slipped his free hand under the cover that he was careful to keep pulled up for warmth. He let his fingers slide over Carol's breasts—one and then the other—stopping only long enough to tease her nipples until she moaned at him and they stood at attention. He felt the goosebumps rise up on her skin as he ghosted his fingers down her body and found the gentle swell of her belly. He rested his hand over her skin.

"You didn't mention her," Daryl said.

"What?" Carol asked.

"You mentioned Henry," Daryl said. "You mentioned me. But you ain't said that she makes you happy."

"I forget she's there," Carol said. She lifted enough to free her hand from under her head and against Daryl's arm. She brought it down to rest over Daryl's hand. "Michael said I should be able to feel her."

"He said if you'd get still and calm and stop just tellin' yourself you couldn't feel her, then you'd prob'ly feel her," Daryl said. "He thinks you doin' it with your mind. That you're makin' yourself not feel her."

"He thinks it's psychosomatic or something that I can't feel her," Carol said, continuing to echo a few of the words that the doctor had offered on his numerous visits, during their day at the Hilltop, when he'd come to check Carol's vitals.

"You scared, so you're dealin' with that by ignoring her presence," Daryl said.

Carol laughed to herself. She closed her eyes and sunk back against Daryl's arm. She rooted into him a little. Daryl didn't know if it was in search of warmth or comfort, but he'd gladly give her both.

"I want to feel her," Carol said. She practically breathed out the words. "So badly, Daryl. I want to feel her little…her little kicks and rolls. I want to know she's there and growing and—happy."

"So, relax," Daryl said softly. "Keep calm. Feel her."

"I'm as calm and happy as I think it's possible to be right now," Carol said. "And—nothing."

Daryl laughed to himself.

"Maybe she's asleep," he offered. "Hell—I mean she can't run around in there all the time, can she? Gotta sleep sometimes. And you've been pretty tightly strung for a while. Maybe you bein' happy an' all feels good to her an' she just wants to be happy and sleep."

Carol opened her eyes and smiled at him. She raised her eyebrows slightly.

"You've really thought about this, haven't you?" Carol asked.

Daryl swallowed. Her words struck him. Her tone, too, struck him. She was teasing, but she wasn't really teasing him.

"Thought about it most the night," Daryl said. "About what we talked about last night. Ed—had everything. You and Sophia. And he just threw that shit away."

"Ed didn't want what he had," Carol said. "He wanted better."

Daryl could feel an acute shortness of breath aching in his lungs as he tested the words he dared to say before he let them leave his mouth. His body felt a little weak with the anticipation of Carol's reaction to the words. Even though part of him knew that she would want to hear them, another part of him deeply feared her rejection at the precise moment when he mustered up the courage to release them into the world.

"No such thing," he offered.

Carol responded with a warm smile.

"You might change your mind," Carol said. "I've been told that—living with me is what does it."

She meant to tease him, but the reality of her words hit him like a hard blow to the gut.

"Don't'cha say that no more," Daryl said. "I heard his fuckin' voice just now—an' I don't want him in my house an' I damn sure don't want him in my bed."

"OK," Carol said softly. She didn't really have to say anything else. There was nothing else that needed to be said.

"I meant what I said," Daryl said. "About—I wanna know about all of it. Everything you feel. Everything you never done. Everything you wanted to do. I wanna know—how the hell I do this right. Be good to you. To Henry, even. To her."

"I think you're off to a really good start," Carol said.

The sincerity of her words, the smile that followed them, and the look in her eyes all released a rush of warmth that flooded through Daryl's chest.

"Yeah?" He asked softly. He moved his hand enough to rub it over her skin where it still rested on her belly. She bunched her fingers, rubbing his beneath her own.

"Yeah," she assured him. "I—wish you could feel her."

Daryl's stomach tightened. One day there would be something there. One day he'd feel the baby in question as she grew inside her mother.

One day she'd be there and he'd hold her in his arms. He could barely imagine such a thing.

"You gotta feel her first," Daryl said. "I'm ready for that—because then you can tell me all about when she's up to somethin' and what she's doing."

Carol smiled to herself.

"You'd get tired of hearing about it," Carol offered.

"Why don't you do me a favor," Daryl offered, trying to bite back the little bit of frustration that surged inside him, "and let me decide what I get tired of and what I don't?" Carol looked more than a little scolded. "I'm sorry—but I do get tired of you tellin' me what I'm gonna like or not like."

Carol could make her face like a wall when she wanted to. She could erase every last trace of emotion from her features. She steeled herself against whatever was coming next—or whatever she might imagine or fear was coming next. She steeled herself against whatever she might feel inside. Daryl felt her body tense. It would have been imperceptible if he hadn't been holding her so close.

The only thing that really gave away any emotion was her eyes. Someone had once said that eyes were the windows to the soul. The words had always stuck with Daryl since the first time he'd heard them. Carol was the first person, though, that had ever truly taught him what that meant. In her eyes, he could see everything.

"Sorry," he offered. "But I'm not Ed."

"I know you're not," Carol said.

"But sometimes you forget," Daryl said.

"I don't forget," Carol said.

"But you get afraid," Daryl said. She didn't respond and she didn't have to. Her eyes told him what he needed to know. He nodded his head. "I understand," he said. "Better'n you think."

"I know," Carol said.

"I get afraid you gonna—change your mind," Daryl said. "Decide I'm not good enough. Realize you could do better."

"I couldn't ever do better," Carol offered. "I've got the best."

"I get afraid you're gonna—regret everything we've ever done," Daryl said. "Just—be gone. Like everybody else."

Under the cover, Carol moved her fingers to hook them around his hand. She squeezed his hand and he returned the gesture, both of their hands still resting against her body.

"I'm not going to change my mind," she said. "You can believe me."

"Yeah—well, I'm not gonna get tired of you," Daryl said. "You can believe me, too. And—I'm not a liar. I meant what I said. I know what I want."

Carol nodded her head.

"Maybe I just don't know what to share," she said. "I don't feel sick anymore. Not really at all. And I woke up this morning and—she's still there, even though I'm sometimes afraid that she won't be. I'm feeling good. Happy. Hopeful. I missed out on all that when I was pregnant with Sophia. Most of the time, when I was carrying Sophia, I just felt—afraid. Cautious. Like I didn't want to wake the bear."

"There ain't no bears here," Daryl offered. "But I get what you sayin'. It's safe here, though. I'ma see to that. To the best of my ability. We both know a lot more than we used to about this world. This? We can do this. So—the only thing I want you to do right now is do what Michael said. Focus on listenin' to you. To her. Figure out what you want an' need. And then—you let me know."

Carol nodded her head. She picked her head up and Daryl realized what she wanted. He met her for a kiss and let her draw it out as much as she pleased. She squeezed his fingers beneath the blanket while she kissed him.

"Your son's gonna be up soon," Daryl offered as he broke the kiss. "If he ain't already up. An' if she ain't up? She's gonna be up soon, too. I'ma go see what I can do about breakfast."

"I should cook breakfast," Carol said.

"I'm more'n capable of cooking breakfast," Daryl said. "I wouldn't mind the company, though."

"First official family breakfast?" Carol asked.

Daryl smiled to himself.

"Sounds good to me," he said.