When Carol suggested they decorate Sophia's new room the next morning, Sophia smiled indulgently. "Mom, I'm not a little girl anymore."

"For the baby!" Carol exclaimed. "For Koo! I meant decorate part of it as a nursery."

"Oh."

They got Michonne in on the action, since she had collected art in the old world and had a bit of talent for painting herself. As she created a mural of animals on the wall against which Koo's crib would rest, she asked about Carl, about the man he had become before he was lost.

Sophia was assigned to teach the kids katana and a bit of Cherokee in Alexandria's school. Aaron suggested it might be a good code language to use if they ever had to face another war, and if the did, perhaps they could call upon the tribe for allies.

She seemed to be easing into community well, and Carol hoped she would decide to stay permanently, but even as she entertained the secret hope, she felt a tinge of guilt for the pain such a decision would cause Wohali and Tala.

The rest of the Alexandria hunting crew returned safely, having parted ways at a fork in the road with the hunters from the other communities. Murphy was disgruntled that Carol expected him to head straight to school, even though day was half over when he arrived. "You have enough work to make up already," she warned him.

"I can't wait until I'm thirteen and I get to be an apprentice instead of going to dumb school!" he exclaimed.

"Schools is not dumb," Carol assured him.

"I don't know when I'm ever going to use half this book learning stuff." The academic portion of school at Alexandria, even with homework, was only about sixteen hours a week. Then there were several hours a week of more practical training – in weapons, fighting, sewing, farming, gardening, cooking, tracking, hunting, first aid, and so forth – and the chores, which helped them to practice such skills. "Dad never uses it."

"Hell you talkin' about?" Daryl asked. "I use my book learnin' all the damn time."

"You do? For what?"

"'S how I got your mama." He winked at Carol. "All that poetry I wrote her."

Carol suppressed a chuckle.

"Really?" Murphy asked skeptically.

"Ain't never gonna get a girl without book learnin'," Daryl told him.

"I don't want to get a girl," Murphy replied. "They talk a lot."

Sophia was glad to see her "first father" back safely–that's how Carol heard her refer to him once to Patrick, Wohali being her "second father" and Ed, Carol supposed, being a long-buried memory. The family enjoyed dinner together that evening, with reminiscing about the good times between the bad at Fun Kingdom, and there was planning for the trip to Hilltop in the morning, to deliver their share of the prepared-for-storage meat.

"I wonder what Duane looks like now?" Sophia mused.

"And T-Dog and Andrea," Patrick added.

"Well, they probably look the same. Adults don't grow so fast."

"They might have gray hair now," Patrick suggested. "And wrinkles."

"Jesus," Daryl muttered. "We ain't got that old."

Sophia glanced at the gray flecks in his goatee and smiled across the table at him.

"Ain't got wrinkles, though," he insisted.

Carol draped and arm around Daryl's shoulders and rubbed his chin, smoothing down the brown and gray hairs. "I think a little gray is sexy on a man. Distinguished."

"Pffft."

That night, Daryl was eager to make love. He always was after time away from Carol on some mission or another. She didn't know if it was because he missed her, or if it was just the thrill of being alive, but reunion sex was always better than the been-at-home-for-days variety, not that the more mundane variety wasn't enjoyable as well.

They were panting in the aftermath, with oil lamps flickering on the bedstand, because of the power restrictions in the evenings to conserve Alexandria's limited supply of energy. Light shadows danced across their naked flesh as Carol settled in against Daryl's chest, wrapping one leg possessively around one of his. He buried the fingers of one hand in the strands of her hair and let out a contended sigh as his breathing leveled.

"Cold," she murmured as the heat of their lovemaking subsided. He yanked the blanketed up over them and kissed the top of her head. "Uneventful trip home?" she asked. She'd found that Daryl often didn't mention any danger he'd encountered until a day or two after a trip. Sometimes it would slip out, almost casually, how he had nearly died falling into a bear trap, or how he'd encountered some murderous survivor driven insane by loneliness, or how he'd been temporarily trapped by a pack of walkers. So she'd taken to asking.

"Thunderstorm the first night," replied Daryl, lazily rubbing circles on her back with a single thumb. "Loud as fuck."

"Fucking's not always loud," she said.

"Usually is when it's good. Was tonight."

"Think anyone heard us?"

"Through these low-six-hundred-thousand-dollar walls?"

Carol chuckled.

"Some of the thunder was loud enough Murphy actually climbed in m'sleepin' bag," Daryl murmured.

"Really? I thought he was too tough for that."

"Wanted to snuggle," Daryl said happily. "He ain't done that for…can't remember when."

Carol smiled against his shoulder. "You miss it, don't you?"

"Yeah," Daryl admitted. "Still remember when he used to sleep on m'chest." He patted his bare chest. "Could fit right there, all of 'em. Little bitty baby."

Carol kissed his chest. "He grew up fast."

"Least we got to see it."

Now Carol swallowed hard. "Unlike with Sophia."

"But hey," Daryl said softly. "She's here now. Can't think 'bout what we lost. Got to think 'bout what we get goin' forward."

"We get to see our grandbaby grow up," Carol agreed. "Half the year anyway."

"Hell, 's more than most grandparents got in the Old World. People used to live all the hell over the place. See each other 'bout twice a year, Christmas and Thanksgivin'."

"Fair point."

Carol eased into slumber in her husband's arms, happy to have her family together beneath a single roof, unsure exactly what the future might hold, but knowing that whatever it held – the people she loved most would be a part of it.

The End

A/N: I'm aware it's an abrupt ending, but I got stuck and wanted to at least give it some kind of closure. Some day if inspired I may write a sequel, but this story was already over 472,000 words (!) – seemed like it needed to be wrapped up.