Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Carol woke up to movement, her eyes fluttering open before falling shut once more. She realized in the breif moments her eyes opened that this wasn't her bedroom. She shot up and saw movement beside her, eyes landing on her boyfriend, and she calmed herself down. She checked the time and saw it was barely two in the morning. She frowned and lifted her eyes to his and saw he was getting dressed. He'd also turned on the lamp beside him to its lowest setting, and she hugged the sheets to her chest.

"I'm just going to the bathroom," he lied.

Fully dressed?

"It's...cold in there." He tried to smile, but she looked more hurt than angry, and he sighed. "That's a lie."

What's going on? She inquired, reaching up to brush hair out of his face. He had been distant during their entire date. He didn't even hold her hand like he normally did when they watched movies, and he was out of it during. If it's about your son finding us, I think he already knows I'm here.

"Yeah, no, it's..." He set a hand on her arm. "I...It's not you. It's...not even about Carl."

Then what's it about? She set her hand over his on her forearm. Rick?

"I...found out my wife is pregnant."

Okay?

"Christ, Carol, we were together since we were thirteen."

And you've been divorced for four, five years now? Lori has moved on with husband and now a baby. You... you told me you had moved on to, but clearly you haven't. She shook her head and climbed out of bed to gather her clothing.

"It's not about—Carol, wait." He tried to stop her from getting dressed and storming out, and he grabbed her pants from the floor before she could. "Wait, please."

I did wait. You asked me out last year, and I said no, because I didn't think you were ready. I waited that entire year for you to be ready, and just last month you told me you were. You said you were ready and wanted to date me, but now I find you bailing out after sex. If I wanted just sex with you, I would have said yes a year ago, but I didn't. I cared enough about you say no and put your interest ahead of my desires. I'm not going to wait anymore. She snatched pants from him. If you want to be hung up over a long ended marriage then fine, just don't involve me.

"It's not about being ready or not being ready; I just need time to process everything, okay? I thought I was ready. I honestly did." He searched her teary eyes, and he set his hands on her shoulders. "I made a mistake, and I am sorry. I shouldn't have asked you out last month. I'm just not ready. I've spend so much of my life with her, and... I guess I'm not ready to share what's left with someone else, even someone as...special and important to me as you."

She dropped her eyes and shuddered, nodding. I'm going then. She pulled her pants on and looked for her rain boots.

"I never meant to hurt you, Carol. I really didn't."

You never hurt me until right now, Carol confessed, looking up at him with damp lashes and trembling shoulders. You knew about this confusion and this pregnancy before I even came to see you today. Yet you let it fester while we watched a movie with your son, while we went bowling, while we...were having sex. I watched you try and figure something out, but you didn't even notice I was there. So don't tell me you didn't mean to hurt me. It's bullshit.

He swallowed hard and tried to speak, but she shook her head. "Please—"

Just treat the next woman better than this. She turned on her heel and left his bedroom, finding her keys in her pocket and grabbing her umbrella on the way out. She hurried to her car, tossing the umbrella into the backseat, and she couldn't start the car and drive out of there soon enough. She drove slow, because her vision as blurred by tears, but it was unlikely she'd encounter another person on this road at this time. It was still storming, and it time to rest. Just not for her, apparently.

She exhaled shakily, gripping the wheel tightly and kicking herself. She knew it wasn't a good idea. She'd known him since he moved here, and she'd seen the mess his divorce had made him he was emotionally distant and hardly spoke to anyone. Hell, he probably only spoke to her, because he didn't have to use words, and she couldn't hear how broken he was inside. He even told her he wasn't one for words, but he liked that they could talk without them. They were better suited to be friends, but she was stupid enough to believe he was over his wife and was interested in a relationship with her. God, she was just a bandage for him. And she knew better. Fuck, she knew better, and she still fell for it.

She stopped in the middle of the road and hit the steering wheel with her palm, wanting to scream. She wasn't heartbroken about their break up. She was so angry at herself. She had tried and put herself out there, and she was given this. After everything else that had happened, she was given this. It was the cruelest joke she'd ever lived. She hated herself right now. She always fell for the obvious jokes, didn't she?

She wiped tears from her eyes and saw something yellow blur across her windshield, brightened by her headlights. She snuffled and opened the door to see who was out there, and her eyes fell on Daryl from the gas station in a rain coat with a flashlight and a...dog bone, maybe?

She placed her car in park and stepped out of her car. She closed the door with a slam, getting his attention, and she walked over to him. She wanted to ask what he was doing here, but he wouldn't understand that. She searched his eyes as best she could with the rain and the wind whipping at them, and he looked upset. What had happened?

"You should go home," Daryl shouted over the wind. "It's gettin' bad out here."

She shook her head and grasped his empty hand, drawing a question mark there, lifting her head to meet his eyes.

"It—it's just my dog being an asshole." He chuckled mirthlessly. "He—he got out out of my house and took off into the woods. I didn't have time to walk him, and apparently he decided now was the time. I have to find him, just go home. You'll catch a cold."

She poked his finger to say so will you.

"You can't help me find you. You don't even know what looks like."

She rolled her eyes. It's a dog in the rain, how hard could that be? She wrote Helping out on his palm, and she scanned the area for movement. She would let her car run. It was in park, and honestly a toasty car to come back would be nice. This might actually make her evening better. Finding a puppy dog and forgetting her not really boyfriend of an ex.

"You can't be serious right now." Daryl watched her for moment. "Shit, you are serious."

She pointed to the left and then to right to ask which way, and he shook his head for no. She stomped her foot and shook her head back at him. He wasn't going to traipse through the woods in the rain at night to find his dog alone. If he got hurt by sliding in the mud or not seeing a drop off, she could help. She had rope in her car and a first aid kid. She was staying.

"No."

She held a finger up at him and glared, mouthing I'm staying slowly at him before taking out the flashlight in her coat pocket. She used it for emergencies, and this was one of them, so suck it. She pointed the light head, and he groaned at her but nodded. She was about to turn when he took a hold of her hand. She frowned.

"I lost the dog. I don't need lose you, too. C'mon, just stay close and if you see him, squeeze my hand."

She nodded again.

They headed into the patch of trees across the road, Carol minded how her boots sank into the dirt, and Daryl decided to just throw the entire outfit away. They headed deeper into the woods, Daryl saw few paw prints filling with water in the dirt, but he couldn't be sure they were Spike's. The rain was distorting the print, but if he were running at top speed, maybe. He couldn't be sure, but it was the lead they had. He didn't want Carol out in this longer than she had to be, and he guided her down the path of paw prints, reminding himself that he loved his animal, and it was just a two-year-old's tantrum. He wouldn't be stashing bones away for a while, but that was just a given.

He felt Carol's hand tighten in his, he looked over to see if Spike was there, but Carol had just tripped. He helped her out of the hole she was sinking into and almost laughed. If someone had told him this is how he'd been spending his weekend, he would have gotten drunk before he got home. Spike was a brilliant dog. He'd find his way home, and Daryl would be recovering from a hanger over, not feeling guilty about dragging a stranger into the woods in the middle of a storm to find his bratty, temperamental puppy. Next time Michonne offered him a dog, he'd get a girl. Maybe she'd like him better. Or at least not want to torture him like Spike loved to.

Carol was already over every decision she had ever made with men before this moment in time, but this was the funny type of over it. She never thought she'd been sinking into the dirt with Daryl beside her, trying to find a dog at two, three in the morning in the middle of a rain storm. She thought she'd go home and drink white in the bath and enjoy her weekend off. She was completely over this rain. It was uncalled for and annoying as all fuck. To think she used to enjoy listening to the rain when she was a kid. No more. Well, obviously, but still. She was in the mindset now.

They searched the patch of woods until the trail became pure mud slush, and Daryl had nothing to go off of. He was clearly worried for his dog, and Carol tightened her grip on his hand comfortingly. He called it quits, because rain was just coming down harder, and she was shaking. He was covered in mud and moss, and this search wasn't going anywhere. It broke his heart to think of Spike all alone in the cold rain, but he had nowhere else to look. If Spike made it to town, someone would find him and call Daryl in the morning. He knew that dog wasn't lost to him, but it still hurt. Jesus, let him be okay.

They returned to solid ground, Carol looked emphatically up at him, and he told her it was all right. He'd find that dog and give him a good what for, and Carol smiled softly at him. She asked about his car by writing on his hand, and he didn't know how to tell her he'd left his truck at home. It was struck in mud, mostly, but aside for that, he just ran after Spike with the flashlight from the porch and a bone the asshole left for Daryl to trip over. Why did he always meet her in these conditions? With clumsiness and awkwardness? Why couldn't he just...be normal? Like a normal person...whose dog wasn't a major douche.

She pointed to her car after confessing the truth, and he didn't want to put her out, but she nudged him in the rib and waved him over. She climbed inside the warmth of her car and dreaded how much water would soak into the seat before she got home. It wasn't that far away, but she had enough water soaking her clothes and hair to make a desert into an oceanic vacation spot for decades.

Daryl buckled himself in and pressed his hands against the heat spewing out of the vents. He didn't mind the cold, but it had crept into his bones, and he was over it. He wanted to be at home in warm clothes with dinner. Or coffee. Coffee sounded better.

Carol tapped his shoulder and mouthed, Where do you live? She already knew, because everyone always talked about the property the city boy bought, but she didn't want to come off as creepy for knowing.

"It's not too far off, just keep goin' straight then there's a rock road. I'll... You'll see it."

She drove him home, he explained what had happened between him and his dog, and Carol was honestly thrilled she wasn't the only one with a cruddy evening. She hoped he did find Spike. It was rough to lose an animal—to death or running away and getting lose. Especially in the rain. It had to dilute the scents. Poor baby. She hoped he'd be all right, and Daryl assured her that asshole wouldn't abandoned him. He still had so many years to harass Daryl. He wouldn't miss out on that.

She playfully rolled her eyes, and soon they were at his house. She tried to see it in the dark, but that wasn't easy to do. It was almost five in the morning now, but storm had stolen any early morning sunshine. She said goodbye to him with a wave, he thanked her for her help, and he headed towards his porch. He didn't make it very far before he heard her tires spinning. He winced and remembered his truck had the same problem. He would spend hour trying to get out, but it went nowhere. It just smelled awful. No she was in the same boat.

He turned around and went back to her car, knocking on her window, but she seemed to already know. She had a message typed on her phone for him, but he didn't need to read it. "You can stay until the storm passes."

She felt guilty, but he opened the door and wouldn't take no for an answer. She couldn't even say no, because she was trapped with no cell service. He seemed nice enough to not hurt her in the night, and she wasn't totally helpless, so why not? Seriously asking herself like there was another answer. She rolled her eyes at her.

He unlocked the front door and stopped just inside, exclaiming, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Carol saw his mouth move, but he was at an angle, so she couldn't make out what he'd said. She moved around him to see a dog chilling on his couch, butt in the air with excitement of his owner's return. Carol tried not to laugh, because Daryl looked furious, and Spike just jumped on him. He lapped the water off his face and growled joyfully at him, and Daryl just sighed and accepted his fate.

Spike spotted another person in the room and moved onto her, stepping on Daryl to reach her, and Carol bent down to pet him. Spike inhaled the scent of rain and mud and perfume on her, and he licked her face. She giggled, a sound so soft he almost didn't hear it, and Spike wagged his tail for her.

Sweet boy. Carol kissed his snout and scratched behind his ear.

"Still an asshole." Daryl closed the door and rolled over onto his knees. "I'll make some coffee. You want any?"

She nodded and stood up.

He looked over her dirty clothes and thought over what he might have for her to borrow. He had a girlfriend leave some clothes here a while back, but she was...taller than Carol. It was better than letting her drown in his clothes, and honestly he wasn't sure he had clothes for himself. He really needed to do some laundry. Among other things.

"I'll bring you something to change into." He kicked off his boots and headed upstairs to locate the duffel bag Spike found in the back of his closet. He didn't bother to shower since the mud and moss only ruined his clothes, so he tossed them into the bathroom trash and changed into sweats and a tee shirt. He grabbed the bag and a towel, heading downstairs to find Carol had removed her shoes and stayed by the door.

"Here." He handed over the bag. "There's a bathroom to the left off the kitchen."

She accepted it and headed down the hall with Spike beside her.

"Hey, you stay." Daryl went after the dog, but Spike barked at him. "Whoa, whoa."

Carol turned when Spike wasn't beside her, seeing he was barking at Daryl. She didn't know what kind of relationship they had, but clearly Spike didn't trust Daryl with her. That was worrisome.

"He thinks I'm gonna peep on you," Daryl told her, gesturing to his dog. "I was comin' after him, not you."

She reached down to pet Spike's back, and he instantly relaxed, panting happily at her touch. She continued to the bathroom, and Spike sent a growl back to Daryl before trotting after her.

"You're literally my dog!" Daryl called after him. "I'm the one who feeds you, remember that! It'll be dry food with no people food, all right? No bacon scrapes." He huffed and stomped to the kitchen to make coffee. Next time he'd just get a cat. A fat, lazy house cat. Damn.

Carol locked the bathroom door, Spike settled on the bathmat, and she smiled at him, opening the bag and finding woman's clothes inside. She was a little surprised when he handed her a duffel bag, and this was even weirder. She suspected it belonged to his current or past girlfriend, and she didn't feel comfortable wearing any of this. It all smelled clean or brand new, but this was...creepy, maybe? She only wore Michonne's clothes, not stranger's clothes, and honestly...this wasn't her taste.

Oh, wait. She spotted a long sleeved shirt in the bottom of the bag and some stretchy pajama pants. She could tell they were clean by the price tags still attached, and she peeled herself out of her wet clothes, nearly sliding on her sludgy pant leg. She gasped and hit the wall, and Spike went to her side to see if she was okay. She patted his head and changed into the clothes slowly. She wished for a hand towel to dry her hair and sat on the edge of the tub to do so.

Daryl knocked on the bathroom door after thirty minutes had passed to make sure she was all right, the door unlocked and opened, and Spike was the first out to come out. Carol stood there with frizzy hair and paler skin.

"I'll throw your clothes in the washer," he suggested. "Or you can. It's in the basement."

She nodded.

"Coffee's done, too. I made some eggs and bacon 'cause I'm starving. I don't know if you are. If not, the dog will eat it."

She lifted her hands and made a write gesture.

"I was thinkin' the same thing." He gestured behind him. "I put a notepad on the counter for you."

She exhaled with relief and offered an awkward thumbs up. She threw her clothes in to wash, finding a plate made for her with a cup of coffee and a notepad. She helped herself to a piece of bacon, and the moment she swallowed, it hit her how hungry she was. She hadn't eaten since six, and it was already six again. She crammed the food in with her fingers since he didn't leave out a fork, and she felt someone nudge her arm. She swallowed and looked over as Daryl amusingly offered her a fork. She accepted it and felt all other colors but red drain from her body.

They sat down at the table, Daryl had also brought her a spare blanket to cover herself with, and she thanked him. He ate his eggs and bacon, trying to think of something to say, and he heard pen on paper. He looked down as she wrote out a question for him. She moved her hand so he could see it.

Whose clothes are these? Your girlfriend?

"Yeah, she left them here, and Spike dug them up. I guess I should send them back to her." She hadn't asked for them back when they broke up. She just told him to jump up his own ass and die, because he was moving into this place and didn't feel serious enough about her to ask her to join him. In his defense, she was sleeping around with other people. Why she thought he was in the wrong, he didn't understand, but it was probably the drugs her new boyfriend got her onto that made her...lash out. He didn't bother to ask after she threw the waffle iron at him.

"Don't worry about them too much."

Won't she be mad you let another person wear her clothes?

"Oh, she hasn't seen that bag in two years. I don't think she's noticed." He met her eyes at her brows furrowing. "We broke up then I had her arrested..for trying to kill me with a waffle iron." And possession charges.

Her mouth fell open. What? She scribbled out onto the pad. Why?

"I... She got in with some bad people, started using pretty hard, and I... I already lost someone to that, so I just cut all ties. She went...a little nuts and tried to kill me." He wished he hadn't said anything, because Carol looked horrified. "But she's gone now. Out of my life, so don't worry about it."

How are you not? What if she comes after you?

"She won't. She's...in prison for moving a...shitton of drugs and attempted murder of her other boyfriend." He drank his coffee and avoided eye contact.

She set the pen down, because she didn't want to know any more. She finished off her eggs and started on her coffee, exhaustion weighing down her eyelids. She knew the coffee was to warm her up, but she was becoming too tired to drink it.

Daryl stretched his fingers out to brush against her hand to get her attention. "If you're tired, I can make up the couch."

She picked up the pen and scratched out, Please.

He smiled. "Yeah, lemme just clear it off. I'll come get you when it's done. Don't worry about the dishes. I'll do 'em tomorrow."

It is tomorrow.

"Then later today." He stood up and left to prepare the pull out couch. Spike came with him, and Daryl knocked the cushions off, Spike claimed one of them, and Daryl pulled the bed out. He hadn't used it since he bought the couch, so it was still in the sheet set he first put on it. He checked it, and luckily it didn't smell like dog or...farts or anything. He tossed a couple more blankets on it and grabbed a pillow from his own bed and went to get Carol. "It's ready."

Thanks. She set the notepad down and stumbled back to the living room with him. She instantly curled up under the blankets, already cocooned in the one he'd given her previously, and he watched her pass out the moment she closed her eyes.

"All right then." Daryl tucked her one foot under the blanket and turned to Spike. "Keep an eye on her, got it?"

He jumped onto the bed and lied down beside her, resting his head on her hip.

"Good boy." He rubbed his head and went to his own room to crash. He was fucking tired. This day had been total garbage, and now it was over. Well, yesterday had been, and now it was tomorrow, and he was over life right now. He was sleeping in—no alarms, no dog waking him up, nothing. If anyone woke him up, he was going to scream. He far enough away from people to get away with it, too.

– – –

Carol woke up to a strange living room with a dog curled up on her side, and she thought her vision was messed up, because everything was shimmering and blurry, but it was just sheets of plastic hanging over the doorway to the next room. She could have cried she was so relieved. She could handle not hearing, but she loved reading and sunsets and seeing the face of people she loved. Although she could adjust and get auto books should that occur.

She swallowed and pushed herself up, inhaling deeply and looking the wide and under furnish living room before her. It wasn't even fully painted, and there were no pictures or colors or anything beyond the green couch she lied on and the TV's oak stand. It was depressing in here, to be honest, and she couldn't imagine what type of person would call this place a home. He's been living here for two years, and this was the best he could do? It was sad. She felt sorrow burrowing in her chest at the empty walls around her.

She crawled out of bed and passed the stairwell Daryl had gone up through for the night, and she stepped into what appeared to be a study. There were built-in bookshelves in the walls, natural light by the bay window, a computer and desk set up, and there were dog toys everywhere. A dog bed and bowls of fresh food and water. It was sweet to see pet owners adore their pets like this. It made her feel less sad for him to know he had such a soft spot in his life. Especially after his crazy ex. Carol still worried the bitch would hunt her down for wearing her clothes, and it wasn't like it'd be hard. She was the only deaf person in this town.

She pressed onto the kitchen, and she made a fresh pot of coffee, seeing he'd consumed quiet of a bit of it last night. There was only a couple inches left inside the pot. She wondered how nervous he was to have her there. He didn't seem like a social person. He was friendly enough at work, but he had no real friends, and she'd never seen him out on the town. He only worked, restored this house and saved whatever money he could apparently. Had he even gotten laid since he moved her? It wasn't her business, but from how little she'd seen of him, she doubted it. She couldn't imagine going that long without companionship. It was depressing. She loved being in a relationship with people, platonic and romantic. Although romantic didn't seen to be leaning in her favor lately. On second thought, he might be better off without the heartache of a relationship.

She leaned against the counter, the cool marble against her bare belly causing her to shiver, and she gazed outside the window over the sink. It showed a spacious and gorgeous backyard with a gazebo and trail for hiking. There was also a cute little shed by the trail. It was precious. She could almost imagine kids running around back there, having fun chasing each other and raising hell for their parents. She smiled and hoped the family that moved in once he was done made joyful memories here. It would be so lovely once it done, and it shouldn't go to waste. If Michonne wanted this fairy tale, Carol would let her have it. But fair and square. Carol wasn't going to help her out with it. Hell, Carol wasn't even sure Michonne could afford it. Daryl was lucky to get it cheap, but who knew how much he'd sell it for?

She'd only seen three rooms, all unfinished, and aside from the depressing lack of personal touch, it was beautiful and homey. It wouldn't take much for someone rich old couple to buy it for family gathers and ruin town for months on end, because they were "catching up with the distant relatives".

Paws smacked on the stone kitchen floor, Carol looked down as Spike came over to her and stretched his body out before sitting down and looking up at her. She rubbed his head and suspected he might want some more bacon. She didn't know if it was okay to cook anything, because she didn't know the man from Adam, so she went upstairs to see if he was okay with it. She grabbed the notepad on the way and wrote out her words, letting Spike guide her to his bedroom. They passed about five doors before coming to a small set of stairs at the end of the hall. Carol watched Spike climb them and scratch on the door, Carol waited a moment before joining him on the steps, and the bedroom door opened to Daryl standing there with only a towel around his waist.

"Oh, Christ." He moved behind his door, forgetting someone else was in his house this morning, and Spike strolled inside, jumping onto his bed and staring at him. He knew that dog was pissed at him, but this was ridiculous. He was practically naked here!

A notepad came into his view, and he read over an apology and request to make breakfast for him as a thanks for the hospitality. He rolled his eyes at himself for being fifteen instead of thirty-four, and he stepped out from behind the door.

"Sorry, you...you just started me. Uh, sure. Breakfast would be nice. I have food in the fridge and the pantry's across the hall from the bathroom you used."

She nodded, her cheeks still pink from the sight of his expose and still wet chest. She turned and headed out to make food. She smacked herself in the face with the notepad once he was back in his room, and she heaved a sigh. Jesus, girl, it was just a chest. You literally jut saw one last night. She hadn't expected him to have so many tattoos, but it wasn't like she really knew him. He worked out, that was for sure. Or he just got muscled by building onto the house. It couldn't be easy to lift...whatever he lifted to get that ripped. God, and the water from the shower and the way he smelled...

She padded down the stairs and tossed the notepad on the bed. She'd forgotten about last night with Rick, that was for sure. Daryl'd been so nice and so thoughtful. She wanted to make it up to him, so she'd make dinner and offer to help him with the house like Michonne suggested. She had most days off, and it'd be nice to get to know him. He seemed so lonely and socially awkward. She wanted to help him with that, too. She was no expert, but she'd be his first friend. Well, aside form Dale and Nadia. You couldn't help but be friends with them. They were so cute and sweet. This town was like their child, and its people were their grandchildren. Were it not for them, Carol might not even be alive.

She stopped by the bathroom to clean up and realized Daryl probably jumped at the horror he saw. Her was beyond repair, so she wet it in the sink and combed her fingers through it, braiding it and using a spare hair tie from her wrist. She scrubbed her face clean and retrieved her clothes from the dryer.

Only she didn't make it long enough to put them in the dryer, so they were not only still wet but smelled...off. She groaned and restarted the washer, adjusting the shirt and pants she wore to look like a suitable human being. Her boobs liked the no bra, but she was self-conscious, especially since she could see her nipples through her shirt. Hell, actually, she could almost see her breasts through this shirt. It was practically see-through in this light.

She dug through the duffel bag for a different shirt, but everything as either see-through, skimpy or leather. She groaned and prayed the washer was quick, because this wasn't how she wanted to spend her morning. She thought she'd wake up with Rick and Carl and do the whole "this is my girlfriend talk" with Carl, but no. She broke up with him, wandered through a storm with a stranger and was practically naked in his kitchen. God, if this was a joke, the punchline better be fucking epic.

She prepared eggs and bacon with toast, helping herself to the jelly and butter in his fridge, and the fresh coffee she'd made. Spike sat and watched her cook, and she shared a bite of everything with him. Not a whole lot in case Daryl was strict on his diet, but she doubted it, because she'd seen him give the puppy bacon and egg. He must be a big softie for this furry face. She certainly did.

"If you're gonna share, make him sit or roll over or give you his paw." He strolled into the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee. He felt better now in clean clothes and a good night's sleep. It was like three in the afternoon, but who was checking? "Make him work for it."

Spike huffed at his owner.

I'll remember that for next time, she thought to herself. She straightened up and cleared her throat, gesturing to the plates.

"Looks good." He carried the plates over for her and sat down.

Carol joined him with the notepad and asked him how he slept.

"Like a rock." He sheepishly smiled at her. "And you?"

Same. Your dog kept me great company. She crossed her legs as she wrote this out, and she lifted her eyes.

"Yeah, he's good like that. Sometimes." He ate some eggs and glared at Spike, who had jumped into the chair across from Daryl and panted at them.

He's a good boy. He's one of Michonne's, isn't he? I remember her giving one to a new guy. You're the guy, right?

"Yeah. I was just finding my way around town, and she brought this puppy over to me. We spoke for about twenty minutes then she asked me if I wanted the puppy. I didn't see a reason to say no, so I adopted young Spike here." He chuckled to himself. "It's been a trip, let me tell you. Raising a dog is like raising a child, only more destructive, I think."

You have kids?

"Not me personally, but I am an uncle."

How exciting. Tell me about your niece or nephew. She dipped the corner of her toast into the runny yolk of her egg, listening to his story.

"It's a boy. He's a boy, Peter. He's only ten, but he's great. He reminds me of his dad so much it hurts. He's a...semi-good kid. He has his moments, but overrall he's good. He's pretty smart, too, and he has a lot of friends. He's such a social kid. He's on any team he can join, and he's a great student. A great kid. I mean, I wouldn't leave him at a gas station by accident."

Carol laughed and picked up the pen, asking: Is he from your sister or brother?

"His dad is my brother." He gulped and offered a tight smile. "Um, did you see if you can get out? Of the driveway?"

I hadn't tried yet. My clothes are still wet, so I had to redo them. I'll check as soon as they're done. Sorry to impose.

"No! No, that wasn't why I asked. I was just curious." He was trying to change the subject. "Take your time."

She pressed her lips together. Why don't you have any friends in town? Aside from Dale and Nadia, who don't count, because everyone is friends with them.

He paused and set his fork down, sighing and leaning back in his seat. "I dunno. Guess I just ain't the friends type."

Everyone is. She then scratched those words out. Most people are.

"Well, most people aren't as chatty as you are." He caught her trying to repress a smile and grinned. "I just don't have time. Honestly, I flip my schedule so often based on my moods and Dale's availability. So, sometimes I work my nights at the store, and in the mornings I'm here working on the house. Or vice versa. I have my dog, so I don't lack interaction."

That's really sad, Daryl. After writing it out reached over and set her hand on his, using her other hand to put over her heart.

"You want to be my friend?" he assumed, and she nodded. "Why? I told him; I'm fine. I'm just fixing this place up and moving on with my life. It's what I do." He shook her hand off and moved away to get a refill of coffee.

She followed with the notebook and showed it to him. It doesn't have to be. You can have friends, and we'll help fix this place up. Let me help you. I want to. We'll get this place on the market, and you'll want to stay, because this town is great. You'll see. I'll help you see. Let me help.

"You want to help me?" He scoffed. "Carol, that's stupid."

She frowned and lowered the notebook.

"If I were to stay, I wouldn't put the house on the market. I worked too damn hard on it. I'd just keep it."

The sorrow left her eyes and laughter swirled there as she swatted him with the notepad.

"You really want to help me?" She nodded. "I guess it couldn't hurt. I've spent two years trying to do it myself, and all I managed was that study and this kitchen. That sun room is killing me. What the hell is a sun room?"

She grinned and wrote on the pad. You won't regret this.

"Well," he set his coffee down and held his hand out, "partners?"

She accepted his hand and nodded.

Daryl looked over her shoulder to see Spike had eaten everything off her plate and moved to his. He really needed to train him better with table manners, because this reflected poorly on Daryl at this point. Daryl had his own actions reflect poorly on him. He really didn't need help with that.

"Spike!"