AN: Here we are, another piece to this little story.

I'll admit that the reunion isn't everything that I wanted it to be, but that's mostly because I don't think that I have the talent to put into words exactly how amazing I think it would be if we could actually see something like this. Still, I hope that you enjoy my best attempt.

I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!

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Daryl realized, as he walked through the gates of the Kingdom, that he wasn't really practiced at giving too much truly good news to people. He also realized that his knees were every bit as much like jelly over this good news as they had ever been over some of the worst things that he'd ever had to tell someone.

Between his pounding heart, his wobbly-ass knees, and the fact that his breath felt a little stifled, Daryl almost laughed at himself as he practically hobbled into the Kingdom.

Finding Carol was easy. She saw him like she'd sensed him coming. She saw him like she'd been waiting for him. She always did. He was always greeted the same way—like she knew he was coming, and like she'd been waiting for him to get there. As soon as he was clear of the gates, he saw her rising up from her spot at one of the planters. Her movement drew his eyes, and his heart kicked up a notch—until he almost felt like it might kill him—while everything else in his body suddenly felt strangely fortified by her smile.

She would need him, and she would need his strength, and her need was all he needed to find that strength within himself.

Carol smiled at him broadly and waved at him somewhat dramatically. He waved back at her in a much quicker and choppier gesture than her long and dramatic flowing wave. She looked ridiculous in her oversized gardening clothes, oversized floppy hat, and gloves.

Still, she looked ridiculous in the best way possible. She was beautiful.

She looked healthy, too, and that was important to Daryl.

For that, Daryl had a great deal of respect for Ezekiel. He sometimes thought the good King was a pain the ass for his over-the-top performances, but he understood that Ezekiel's role-playing as king was for the benefit of his people as much as it was for his own benefit. Daryl also sometimes felt jealous of the "marriage" that Carol had with Ezekiel, even though he knew that, in reality, they were mostly good friends who enjoyed each other's companionship—and he knew, really, that he only had himself to blame for anything that made him jealous. Carol would have married him long ago, if he'd only asked or, at the very least, made it clear that he might be interested in such a thing.

He had always felt like he didn't have enough to offer her, though.

Oddly, his stomach wiggled now with a thought: he had Sophia to offer her, now.

Daryl did respect Ezekiel a great deal, however, for the fact that, whatever he may be—friend, companion, husband, or liege-lord—he made sure that Carol had what she needed. He gave her the opportunity to rest. He gave her the chance to focus on things besides just the pain that life had doled out to her. He pushed her to eat and drink like she should, even when Daryl wasn't there to do the same and had left her to deal with some of his own demons and heavy feelings.

Ezekiel cared for Carol, in whatever capacity, and Daryl appreciated that he could see the appearance of good health on her that hadn't always been the case before.

Daryl's chest felt warm when he saw Carol looking at him as happily as she did. She rushed toward him, and she wrapped her arms around him, enveloping him in a hug, before he could even wrap his own arms around her.

She buried her face for a moment in the crook of his neck, her arms wrapped there where his backpack kept her from hugging him tightly around the middle.

"I'm so glad you came!" She said.

Daryl didn't doubt that she meant it, but he couldn't help but get a little thrill at the fact that she would be even happier he was there when he told her what had brought him so unexpectedly—who he had brought with him.

"You'll stay, won't you? At least for the night," Carol insisted, backing up and taking him in. Nearly every time he came to the Kingdom, Carol insisted that he stay for a least a night. She fussed over him, made sure she fed him nearly to bursting at every meal, and she stayed up with him at night until she usually fell asleep and he was forced to wake her and insist that she go to bed or, on occasion, to simply let her sleep beside him for the comfort he knew it would give them both.

"I'll stay," he said, to dismiss the need for her to fuss or try to convince him. "But—you gotta hear why the hell I'm here, Carol."

She immediately went pale.

"What's happened?" She asked, backing up a step.

Daryl reached and caught her arms, ready to keep her from falling if her knees should give out and to pull her to him, quickly, if it should become clear that she needed true physical support. He shook his head at her. He smiled because he couldn't help it. His heart was racing. He had no idea how to tell her what he had to say, but he couldn't wait for her to hear it.

"Nothin' bad, Carol. It ain't nothin' bad. I swear to you. It's…it's the best damn thing in the world."

She looked even more confused, really, than she had before. Some short distance away, movement caught Daryl's eye. He noticed Ezekiel easing closer. He looked worried. Concerned. He was looking at Daryl for some kind of sign. Daryl let go of one of Carol's arms and waved a hand at him—a sign that all was well, and he had this under control. Ezekiel visibly relaxed, and he stopped his forward movement, but he watched from a distance in case he was needed.

Daryl caught Carol's arm again. She wasn't trying to pull away from him at all. She hadn't even let her eyes leave his face to glance back at Ezekiel.

"What are you talking about?" Carol asked.

Daryl laughed to himself over his inability to deliver the news in some kind of wonderful way.

"If there was miracles in the world, Carol, and the best of 'em was reserved just for you…what the hell would you want?" Daryl asked. "More'n anything else in the world, what would you want?"

Carol almost looked wounded. She shook her head.

"I don't want to play a game, Daryl," she said, offense coming through in her tone.

"I'm not playin'," Daryl said. "I wouldn't do that. Not to you. Listen—I was in the woods. I was huntin'. Come across a Walker that was wearin' a pack, so I stopped to clear it out after I put the damned thing down. Gettin' quiet for a bit means I heard somethin'. Some shit I would've missed otherwise. Realized I weren't alone. But—Carol—the fuckin' miracle comes in when I tell you who the hell I found in the woods." He squeezed her arms tighter. "If you need me to walk you out there, I'll hold you up. My knees just about went out on me."

"Rick?" Carol asked.

"Is that who the hell you'd wanna see if you had one damn miracle comin' to you?" Daryl asked.

Carol started to tear up, and Daryl couldn't begin to know for certain what she was thinking. She started to shake her head at him, and then she simply started to shake.

"You gotta calm down," Daryl said. He tried to keep his voice steady and calm to demonstrate, for her, what he expected of her. "You gotta stay calm. She's not gonna want you to be upset. That's why she sent me in here—to try to make sure you didn't get too upset."

Daryl pulled Carol tight against him in the tightest hug that he possibly could. His eyes found Ezekiel. He hadn't moved from the spot where he'd been standing when Daryl had waved to him to say that all was under control. He was still watching, though, intently, in case he was needed.

"Daryl—please don't be lying to me," Carol said. "Please…don't…lie…to…me."

"Jesus," Daryl said, holding her as tightly as the very laws of physics allowed, and not caring who saw them or what rumors they wanted to send bouncing around the Kingdom. "I wouldn't lie to you about this shit, Carol. I wouldn't lie to you about anything, but certainly not about Sophia."

Upon hearing her daughter's name, the knees that Daryl feared might give out did buckle. Daryl's hold on Carol, though, was complete enough that she barely moved downward at all before he pulled her back up.

"You ready to go see her?" Daryl asked. "Come on—I'll help you."

Daryl had full intention to carry Carol, if that's what she needed. She didn't seem to need that, though. She needed only a moment more of his physical support before she pulled free from him and started walking quickly toward the gates that he'd only just recently passed through. The guards for the gates looked confused, but like everyone else that was watching them, they looked like they didn't want to interfere with whatever it was that might be going on—something that clearly had nothing to do with them at the moment.

Daryl double-timed his steps to catch back up with Carol, certain that she would need him eventually, even if she didn't need him right away.

As Carol reached the gates, the guards opened them to allow her to pass through them. Some rushed and somewhat muffled declarations of "Your Majesty" were tossed at Carol as she moved through the gates. The declarations, on any normal day, would irritate Carol. Today, they didn't seem to touch her at all.

Daryl caught up to her and got an arm around her as the gates were closed—he was sure the guards were close by, just in case they needed them for something.

"She's this way," Daryl said, getting ready to steer Carol with the arm around her shoulder and with a finger from his free hand pointing the way. He didn't have to do much in the way of steering her, though, because they'd barely cleared the gates when Sophia saw them from her chosen hiding place.

"Mommy!" She called, drawing the word out like a small child thrilled to see her mother after a hard day of day-care. Her own bag had been cast aside. She dropped her machete as she ran. Arms out, she rushed toward Carol.

Carol pulled free even from the arm that Daryl had draped over her shoulder. She ran almost like she was drunk. Perhaps she was blinded by the tears that, no doubt, blurred her vision. Arms out, she ran to meet Sophia in much the same way that Sophia ran toward her.

Daryl winced. When they collided, they both went down, but neither seemed to care as they both caught themselves hard enough on their knees that he could imagine himself washing and bandaging wounds later against possible infection.

Daryl wasn't sure if he'd really done anything to soften the impact for Carol or not. The two women—because they were both women, even if it was hard to fully accept that Sophia was as grown as she was—wrapped into each other entirely and rocked together as they rested on their probably-skinned knees on the hard ground. Like yin and yang, Daryl couldn't tell where mother ended and daughter began.

"Mommy…mommy…mommy…" Sophia cried and chanted as they hugged and rocked.

"Oh…my baby…oh…my baby…oh…my baby…" Carol called back, almost making it sound as though they were some exotic breeds of animal with only these sounds available to be made.

Nothing else was said, for the moment. No other words passed between them at all. There were no confessions. There were no questions. Nobody said "I love you" with the three little words that, perhaps, at a moment like this would've sounded empty.

The only sounds were the cried-out words that each of the two had chosen as their own form of communication for the moment.

And, Daryl assumed, those sounds were probably enough when the tight, rocking hug shared between them evidently communicated more than any words could.

Daryl's heart ached with happiness. He was happy that Sophia was found—and that she was safe. He was happy, for Carol, that her daughter had been returned to her. He could only imagine what she must be feeling as she held her in her arms after all this time – the feeling of a heart being stitched back together.

He didn't want to intrude on their moment. He didn't want to interrupt. There would be time for everything later. For the time being, he wanted them to have what they had right now—a moment of pure happiness as they held each other and each drank in the feeling of long-held dreams being made into reality.

Daryl did the only thing that he could do. Standing just far enough away to allow them their time and their space, he kept watch so that nothing and nobody could disturb them.