Author's Note: Thank's so much for the reviews. Hope you guys continue to enjoy it.

Chapter 4

Carol stared out the passenger window of the SUV as they made their way slowly down the main street of the small town nearest the Greene Farm. Or maybe it was their farm, now? A month after they returned and began fortifying the house it was beginning to feel more and more like it was their place, something the two of them were building together. It was where – no. She wasn't thinking of that right now.

She still hadn't been to that particular corner of the property. No matter where she was it seemed she could feel it pulling on her. The place where Sophia's body rested was possessed of an almost supernatural ability to be visible only out of the corner of her eye, but from every imaginable angle. Every now and then, she would catch Daryl staring at her and realize he'd been watching her watch that spot. They would both look away and pretend it hadn't happened.

"You ready?" Daryl said, startling her out of her thoughts.

Carol took a deep breath and forced a smile in his direction. "I can do this."

"We can do this. We're goin' in the five and dime. Grab what we can and back out. That goes good, and we might try the grocery."

"That'll be picked over, surely."

"Ain't about that. Whatever we get is a bonus. This is about practice, right?"

"Right. Absolutely."

There must have been something in her voice because he was staring at her, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together. "Whatcha thinkin'?"

She wasn't really thinking anything. "That this thing uses a lot of gas, and practice or not if we don't fill it up we've wasted a lot."

He nodded. "Then let's not waste it. No talkin' after we open the doors."

The front of the store went well. Light filtered in through the dirty front windows, and they killed two Walkers as they mad their way through the clothing racks. But as they moved away from the windows, it got darker, and the shelving didn't seem to be laid out in any kind of logical pattern. Carol had just sighed in relief, noting the location of half an aisle full of feminine hygiene products, when something brushed against her knee.

She kicked out, hard, before she even knew what it was.

It was a little girl. Seven or eight years old, wearing a Disney princess dress and one slipper, the other foot bare.

Carol froze. She didn't move, she didn't speak, she couldn't even breathe.

Daryl was a statue behind her, maybe waiting for her to finish it off. She tried to turn her head to say she couldn't, but hadn't managed before an arrow flew past her right ear and lodged itself in the little girl's – the walker's - eye.

Shit.

"Sorry," she whispered. Her right fist was rubbing almost frantic circles over her heart. He moved in front her and caught her eye, putting his finger to his lips, and nodded.

She couldn't have described the look on his face to save her life, but none of the anger she expected was there. He tilted his head and stared at her a moment, then nodded and signaled that they were going to continue. Carol took a deep breath. The smell turned her stomach for a moment, but she nodded and continued. One foot in front the other. Focus. Don't get distracted by the body, or the smell, or the memories trying to rise up and block out everything else.

Daryl killed two more, and she took out one with no problems. It was almost a relief. It felt like a confirmation that it was only the fact that it was a child that had caused her to freeze. She would do better next time. They cleared the rest without incident and then set about collecting things. Carol grabbed a cart first thing. There was too much here for the bag old canvas bag that she'd found in Hershel's attic. She was almost giddy as she hit the pads and tampons first, then filled the rest with coffee, cocoa, and chocolate. She met Daryl at the front of the store near door, and they smirked at one another's choices. He had Band-Aids, socks, and a pile of camouflage and plaid flannel that was likely enough clothes for the two of them for the rest of their lives. She spotted nails and a new hammer, screws, and rubber tubing. Scattered around him on the floor were half a dozen gas cans.

They loaded it all in the back of the SUV, then headed for the grocery.

Carol thought the smell alone might kill them, and had little hope of finding much salvageable in the way of food. It was an old-fashioned mom and pop store, the kind of place that only existed in places so small the big chains hadn't bothered with them yet. When they opened the door, the jingling of the bell nearly made Daryl jump out of this skin, and Carol smirked, happy that it hadn't been her this time.

Some days, she resented the very competence she'd been depending on in Daryl. They spent mornings hunting (he hunted, she scared of game while she tried to learn) and training (he tried to teach her how to fight and she fought against her instinct to roll up in a ball or flinch away). Afternoons were spent working harder than she'd ever worked in her life, securing the house, cleaning up the dead walkers outside, and gathering and chopping wood. Evenings were spent in front of the fire, sipping bad instant coffee before she slept and he kept watch from the roof. Halfway through the night, they would change places and come morning they would start all over again.

Now, a month into their new life, she was good enough for this run, but she still felt like a giant incompetent bruise. She had learned that saying that out loud wasn't something Daryl would put up with.

He believed in her in a way she'd never quite been able to believe in herself. When she thought about it, she thought they might be friends.

And because they were friends, she waggled her eyebrows at him and grinned when a little bell made him jump three feet in the air. He rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide the flush of pink that was creeping up the back of his neck.

The store was empty, and had already been gone over. Most of the canned food was gone, but they found a bit of pasta and some rice. They hit the jackpot in the baking aisle, though. Pound after pound of flour, corn meal, sugar, and enough Crisco to sink a battleship. There was baking powder and baking soda and powdered milk. Things that when they were gone, there wouldn't be any more, at least not for a long time. She and Daryl just stared at each other, gaping, and then she ran to the front for another buggy. While she was there, she grabbed all the bags from the check-out, to make moving their haul inside a bit easier when they got back. She cursed herself for not thinking of that in the five and dime, but she was new at this.

Outside, she stood guard over Daryl as he loaded it all in the SUV. He rummaged around until he came up with a siphoning hose and one of the gas cans, then gestured to the cars still lining the street.

It didn't take long to discover that most of the vehicles had already been emptied. It may even have been by their group, she didn't know how much gas Glenn and Maggie had brought back from town. Still, they got about ten gallons before she let out a low whistle.

She'd been keeping an eye on the sky for a while, and had noticed Daryl casting it a leery glance every now and then. Now, she pointed out the mass of near black clouds moving quickly toward them, and Daryl nodded. He scraped the cover of the gas tank with a knife as he stood up, marking it for when he came back as one he'd already emptied, and they made their way back to their transportation.

Inside, she let out a sigh of relief and whispered.

"I have never wanted to talk more in my entire life."

"Did good, though." Daryl responded. "The hell you need that many tampons for?"

It startled a laugh out of her. "That's a rule, Daryl. You follow it from now on. Always take all the pads and tampons. Stuff them in your pockets. Keep them in your bag. We might have to leave in a hurry, and I'll need them eventually."

He scoffed. "Take up a lot of damned space."

"Says the man who grabbed enough flannel to clothe a colony."

He glared, "Winter ain't nothin' to be scoffin' at. Wind might blow straight through that house, no way of knowing yet."

Daryl was obsessed with winter in a way that broke Carol's heart a little. She'd even heard him mention it once to Merle all the way back in the quarry camp, that they needed to start 'puttin' something by' for winter. His brother had clapped him on the back and told him to stop frettin', but she remembered it now as she watched him chop more wood than she could imagine them ever needing. And then chopping more wood.

"Shit." Daryl's said as the world around them darkened. He accelerated. "We ain't gonna beat it."

He'd barely finished the sentence when the sky opened up. In moments, Carol couldn't see where the road was, much less if they were still on it. They came to a stop, her companion muttering a string of profanity under his breath that would have made a sailor blush.

"It's okay. Kill the engine. We'll just sit here until it passes."

He made a humming sound in the back of his throat while his hands drummed out a distracted pattern on the steering wheel. "Don't like bein' gone this long as it is. Now this? Some damn body's liable to see the house as a good shelter and be in it when we get back.

"We haven't seen any other people since we left the group," Carol whispered.

"They're out there. Not seein' 'em yet just means it's about time."

"And if they are, we'll either negotiate or we'll leave."

"Or get our asses killed."

Carol winced. "Whatever's going to happen, there's nothing we can do now that will change anything. Well, we could try to drive in this and end up losing sight of the road and ramming into a tree, then we'd both be walkers and it wouldn't matter anyway."

He glared at her. "Don't say shit like that. You ain't gonna be no walker. And you damn well better make sure I ain't, either. I buy it? You put me down."

"Can we not talk about that?"

"You brought it the hell up."

"Okay! Okay, look. You're nervous." She had no idea why he would be, when he'd been joking and seeming proud of her just a minute before. "Let's kill some time. Hey! There's nothing else we should be doing. There's nothing else we can be doing. How often does that happen? This is – it's like a mini-vacation. Let's play three questions."

"The hell's that?"

"We take turns. You three questions, that we both have to answer. Then I ask three questions. The game lasts until we each make up three questions. First one to refuse to answer a question loses."

"That ain't no game. You just now made that shit up. Who the hell plays a stupid game like that?"

She smirked. "Is that your first question?"

"That yours?"

They just stared at each other for a second, then Daryl looked determinedly out the window and said, "Fine. First question."

"Remember. You have to be willing to answer any question you ask."

He nodded, but didn't look back her way. "How long you married to him?"

Carol blinked. That wasn't the question she was expecting. "You can't answer that one."

"Sure I can. Ain't never been married to nobody. 's close enough. Go on then, or you done playin' already?"

"Twenty six years." She got the distinct impression he was doing math in his head and remembered that she'd talked about getting married the day she turned eighteen. "And it's impolite to ask a lady her age, no matter how sneaky you think you're being."

He barked a laugh. "Ain't that. Just…why you stay? I'll go first on that one. Stayed with the old man 'cause I was too chickenshit to run away. Merle said he'd be back for me, and I had to be sure he could find me. Stayed with Merle…I guess 'cause he was Merle. Y'all, all y'all in that group? You don't know him, not really. When he ain't high? He's still an asshole, but he's…he ain't what everybody thinks he is. Not really. Or at least, not all the time. So, why you stay?"

"Because I wasn't on any of the bank accounts. I wasn't on the deed or the mortgage. I wasn't on the car registration or any of the bills. I had a high school education and no idea how to even apply for a job. I was just so convinced that I couldn't take care of Sophia without him, that the court would give him custody, and I couldn't leave her alone with him. Before all this? I was absolutely certain that no one would believe me. In public Ed was this charming man, not rich but pretty successful. He had his own business, was in the chamber of commerce, had all these connections to people who were well off. Judges. Lawyers. It wasn't until he didn't have a house to hide it in that anyone else ever suspected he was anything but a good man with a crazy wife."

She couldn't keep her voice from breaking at the end, but she rolled her eyes at him and pretended that she had. She braced herself for his next question. Although this was her idea, the inside of the Tahoe suddenly felt much smaller than it had before.

"Second question," he paused, and looked into her eyes for a long time. She wondered what it was he saw there, if it was obvious that she found impossible to look away. Finally, he said, "I get us some squirrel, you know how to make dumplin's?"

She beamed. "Better than you have ever had before."

All in all, sitting in an SUV in the middle of the road during a storm wasn't the worst way she'd ever spent a couple of hours.