AN: Here we are, another chapter here!

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

111

Daryl would have never imagined it possible for someone of Carol's size and stature to consume the amount of pizza that she ate. Lenora had ordered the pizza, and she'd ordered extra with the idea that it could feed them some through the next day. For the time being, it seemed like their plans were simply to remain cloistered in the house while the three of them—and Barnabas, who practically insisted that he be considered and active member of everything—figured out what the hell to do. Daryl thought that Lenora's pizza order had been overkill, but after watching Carol eat until he feared for her health—if she even had "health" in her current form, as they knew it—they would need more if she got the urge to eat her fill again.

As night fell on a once-haunted house full of possibly questionable inhabitants, nothing happened that raised goosebumps on flesh or made hair stand on end. The lights went out, and stayed out, but that was owing more to the faulty wiring that Daryl still needed to fix than it was to anything supernatural. The candles that they lit and carried around didn't blow out mysteriously. They burned without flickering and without flames that changed colors as eerie portents of something to come.

Lenora was the first to retire, taking Barnabas with her, to an upstairs room.

Downstairs, the windows open to allow a cool breeze to enter, Daryl sat with Carol in the kitchen. Together, they sat in silence and had a beer. Daryl felt nearly sleepy in her presence, and it had little to do with his desire for rest and much to do with a deep feeling of contentment that seemed to grow within him for no particular reason.

It was Carol that broke the silence, finally.

"There's no—Mrs. Daryl?" Carol asked.

Daryl laughed to himself. He drank down a long swallow of beer and got up long enough to help himself to another. He brought a second to Carol, not sure if she needed it.

"No, and there never has been. There's no damn body but me," Daryl said. "I mean—I got a brother, but…we're what the hell you might call estranged right now."

"Any particular reason?" Carol asked.

"Because life is fuckin' complicated," Daryl said. "And people are even more complicated."

"You're telling me about how complicated life and people can be?" Carol responded.

Daryl laughed. He helped himself to one of the cigarettes between them on the table.

"Yeah—I guess you know all about that shit," he said. "At least nobody ever murdered my ass with an ax."

"I don't know," Carol said. "Maybe it's—not all that bad."

Daryl looked at her. The candlelight casted a glow across her face. She was, frankly, beautiful in the dim light. She was beautiful in any light. And there was something that he found extra beautiful about her at the moment—maybe it was the way she was looking at him.

"It wasn't all that bad? From what I understand, he cut your head off—I'm sorry if that's goin' down the bad kinda memory lane, but that seems pretty damn bad to me."

Carol shrugged her shoulders.

"But then—you brought me back," she said. "Gave me another chance at life. At everything I ever wanted."

Something about the way she said it—so lighthearted and simple—struck Daryl. He felt his pulse kick up.

"Lenora brought you back," he said.

"You heard her," Carol said. "She couldn't have done any of this without you. It wasn't about the magic or the spell. It was about the connection. She couldn't have done it if you weren't here. If you weren't my…"

Carol stopped short. Daryl understood. The idea had been dancing around in his head and, as the night had gone on, it seemed to kick up its heels a little higher and a little faster.

"Soulmate," he offered, barely able to put sound behind a word that seemed so profound at the moment.

"Soulmate," Carol echoed.

Daryl stared at her, and she held his gaze. Something inside of him might have imagined she would direct her eyes away from him. He might have expected her to stare at the floor and refuse to meet his gaze. Instead, she held his eyes steadily and without any sort of intimidation—not that he was trying to intimidate her at all. Daryl supposed that being murdered with an ax, and coming back to have another chance at things, might do something to alleviate any meekness that someone might have.

"We can wait as long as you want to discuss it," Daryl said, finally. "Hell—you been through so much…more'n anyone else, easy. It's your choice when the hell you wanna talk about shit, and I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to just exist for…however long…"

"What reason is there to wait?" Carol asked.

"Until you feel ready, I guess," Daryl said. "Until you feel like…you got some answers."

"I don't feel like I'm going to have answers until we discuss it," Carol said. Daryl simply nodded his head as a way of nodding his understanding.

"I don't know if I believe in soulmates," he confessed. "Or—if I did."

"You do now?" Carol asked.

"Hell, if I know what I believe in now," Daryl admitted. "You were just a damn ghost—and I didn't believe in ghosts until I met you. Didn't believe in witches. I haven't had much time to figure out what the hell I believe now that shit's gone crazy."

"I have always believed in soulmates," Carol said, matter-of-factly. She smiled. "And, maybe witches, too. And, well, maybe ghosts."

"You believe in everything, and I believe in nothing," Daryl said with a laugh. Carol echoed it.

"Maybe, more than that, I'm just open-minded to the possibility," Carol said. "And—considering today, maybe that's a good thing. Maybe you and I are supposed to see the opposite sides of this. Maybe that's how we fit together."

"Yin and yang," Daryl offered. "Light and dark. Some shit like that."

"Two halves to a whole," Carol said. "Isn't that what soulmates are supposed to be?"

"Did you think that you an' your husband was soulmates?" Daryl asked.

"No," Carol said without hesitation. "I thought—it was best if I married. I was a burden to my family, otherwise. We didn't have much. We were from Farmer's Grove. It was a little town not far from here."

"Just Groverton, now," Daryl offered. "But I remember seein' somethin' about the name bein' changed a long damn time ago when there weren't nothin' there."

Carol smiled softly.

"There's something there now?" She asked.

"Not too much to speak of," Daryl said. "But surely more than there was a hundred years ago."

"We didn't have too much money," Carol said. "Ed was well-to-do, and he was interested in me. I don't know why."

"Prob'ly because you were beautiful," Daryl said. "Are beautiful, I mean. Shit. I mean…I didn't mean to say that."

Carol smiled at him. He thought that she maybe blushed. It was hard to tell in the dim light.

"I think it's acceptable if you say that," Carol said. "After all—you are my soulmate, aren't you? The man who—brought me back to life? Saved me from death?"

Daryl felt warm. He shook his head.

"I didn't do any of that," he said.

"You did, though," Carol insisted.

"No," Daryl said. "I just—bought this house. Brought here by the connection, if what Lenora suspects is right. I saw your picture—the painting. I saw you. If we're bein' honest? Nothin' I did was noble. I wanted to meet you. I wanted to bring you back, but it weren't because I was thinkin' of bein' some kinda noble-ass person. I'm just an asshole. I wanted to meet you. That shit was about me."

Carol smiled at him softly and shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe," she said. "Maybe that's just how the whole thing made you feel. Maybe that's what your mind had to tell you to get you to do what you needed to do—to find Lenora."

"You really believe that?" Daryl asked.

"I already told you that I'm more open-minded than you are," Carol offered. "Look, Daryl, all I'm saying is that you already told me that, at least before you got here, you didn't believe in ghosts, and witches, and spells, and soulmates, right?"

"Right," Daryl agreed.

"Your brain knows you best of all, doesn't it?" Carol asked. "Maybe it had to make you want things in a way that you could believe, just to get you to do what needed to be done."

"So—you're sayin' that I thought I was doin' this shit for me, just to get to know you, and really, I was doin' it for you?"

"To save me," Carol said. "And to complete the connection requirement, of course."

"You're tryin' to make me into some kinda hero instead of a son of a bitch," Daryl offered with a snort.

"I don't know," Carol said. She pursed her lips at him in thought and raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Even if you saved me from death just because you wanted to meet me, that's still pretty romantic."

"You surprise me," Daryl said. What he didn't say, the moment those words left his mouth, was that he surprised himself when she was around.

"In a bad way?" Carol asked.

"No," Daryl admitted. "In a good way. The best damn way, maybe. I thought you'd be…"

"What?" Carol pressed.

Daryl shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. He picked up a cigarette and, when Carol did the same, he lit hers before he lit his own. He took a drag and blew out the smoke.

"I don't know," he said. "Afraid of your own damn shadow, maybe."

"It was never my shadow I was afraid of," Carol said. "And—Ed's dead. So, I guess I'm a free woman in a world that's entirely new to me…and full of possibility."

Daryl felt a strange sort of tugging sensation in his middle, like something was pulling him closer to her. She held his eyes again, unwavering. It was nearly unnerving. Still, he didn't feel really inclined to look away.

"I feel like I've known you a hell of a lot longer than just today," Daryl said. "Like—maybe I've known you forever."

"Maybe you have," Carol said. "Maybe I knew you, too. Even then. Maybe I knew you were coming to find me."

"You didn't."

"I think I did," Carol said. "Don't misunderstand. I never had the slightest inclination that this is what would happen. It was nothing of the sort. Rather—I felt like there must be someone for me. I did believe in soulmates, remember? I felt you in the universe, maybe, as Lenora said. I felt like you were coming for me." She shrugged her shoulders and studied the candle nearest her, for a moment, with far more interest than a simple candle from the dollar store merited. "Maybe it was only a hope that I had…a wish that I made in my heart."

"Or your soul?" Daryl offered. She looked at him again and smiled once more. She nodded her head gently. "I don't know if that's what I feel," Daryl said, "and I—don't know if I ever felt it before or…or fuckin' knew it's what I felt, but…I feel like I've known you forever."

"I suppose what we're really discussing isn't the past, though," Carol said. "It's…now. It's the future."

Daryl's stomach tightened.

"What do we know about the future?" He asked.

"Nothing," Carol said. "Perhaps the only thing I know is that…I've been granted another, and that seems important to me."

"If what Lenora says is true," Daryl said, "then, you might be stuck here."

"I might," Carol agreed.

"What do you—think about that?" Daryl asked.

Carol hummed.

"I can think of worse places to be stuck," she offered. "Here, how I was before, for instance. Trapped."

"You're still trapped," Daryl said. "Can't leave, if Lenora's right."

"Perhaps it's up to each of us to decide how we might define trapped," Carol said. "I don't feel trapped. Not anymore. But I don't presume to tell you how to feel, Daryl." Carol stood up from her seat, and Daryl instinctively stood at the same time.

"You need somethin'?" He asked.

"No," Carol said. "But the very fact that you so readily offer…"

She broke off in the middle of her sentence. She left the thought hanging in the air between them.

"What?" Daryl asked, doing his best to press her to say more.

"Nothing," Carol said. "I think—I'll go to bed now, Daryl. Sleep."

Daryl nodded at her.

"It'll prob'ly be good for you," he said.

"I'm admittedly afraid of it," Carol said. Her eyes were big and soulful. Daryl held them, again, like he had before. His stomach twisted.

"Why?" He asked.

"What if I don't wake up? What if—all of this is a dream?" Carol asked.

"I'm kinda askin' myself the same thing," Daryl admitted.

Carol chewed her bottom lip.

"Do you want it to be a dream, Daryl?" Carol asked.

"No," Daryl said.

"Me either," Carol said. "Maybe—that says more about what we're both thinking than anything else we're ready to say at the moment."

Daryl's stomach tightened at her words. His pulse kicked up. He felt like it was suddenly harder to breathe.

"Maybe it does," he said.

Carol gave him a soft smile.

"I hope I see you in the morning," Carol said. She raised her eyebrows at him and then leaned, pressing an unexpected kiss on his cheek. Her lips were soft and warm. She felt not at all like a ghost or a dead person. She felt very real, and very alive, and Daryl's whole body felt warm from the gentle kiss. "Goodnight, Daryl."

"Carol," Daryl called as she reached the doorway of the kitchen. She stopped and turned back to look at him. He wished he knew what he'd meant to say, but he didn't. "Goodnight," he offered. "Take one of the candles?"

Carol smiled and shook her head.

"I'm not afraid of the dark," she said.

Daryl offered one of the tall taper candles in a glass holder out to her.

"Just so you don't fall," Daryl said. "And you'll need to see to…you know…do whatever you need to do."

Carol accepted the candle, and she thanked Daryl for it. Daryl felt oddly compelled to say something else to her—to keep her there for a moment longer.

"You like coffee…for in the morning?"

Carol's smile renewed. She nodded her head.

"I do," she said.

"I'll make some," Daryl said.

"I can't wait," Carol said, before she turned and left the kitchen. Daryl sat down, again, and picked up another cigarette for himself, his last for the night.

111

AN: I've posted this on other stories, so I'm posting it here. If you've read it before, you can feel perfectly free to ignore! Thanks!

So—you wanna hear a story about how I have good intentions but suck at following through with them?

I was informed that people don't review/comment frequently because they don't get responses for their reviews, and that makes them feel unappreciated as readers. I know that there are people who are practically professionals at responding to everything all the time. I certainly don't want people to feel unappreciated.

I meant to answer everyone's reviews forever and ever, but I found out, very, very quickly, that I just can't. My sometimes-scrambled brain can't handle it. I value and love every review I get. The knowledge that you're reading and enjoying keeps me publishing chapters. I even save the best ones in a document titled "Really Nice Reviews" to read and reread when I need a pick-me-up. However, when I try to assign myself the job of answering them, even if there's only a couple, it becomes a job. This is especially true if there's not really a lot there for me to know what to say. Then, I go into a spiral where I was taught that I can't have "fun" until I do "all my work." That means I can't even daydream about future chapters until I figure out a meaningful response to everything.

So—fast forward and I've spent two weeks AVOIDING my Caryl fics because I "can't" allow myself to write them or even think about them. I've now successfully gotten myself stuck on all of them. It's been absolutely horrible.

That being said, I'll be answering reviews, as I used to, if there's something there that I feel like I can answer, etc., but I'm going to have to just say I failed at this endeavor. I do love all of your reviews/comments, and they do help immensely with the motivation to publish new chapters, but I just fail at trying to answer everything and continue to write. If you're someone who needs that response back in order to read and comment/review to let me know that you're reading, then I respect that, and I hope that you find something that you can read where all your needs are fulfilled.

As for me, I have to do what I have to do in order to be able to keep writing, because otherwise I'm just stalling on literally everything. I'm sorry!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please don't forget to let me know what you think! (But, also know that I may or may not get back to you, even though that absolutely doesn't mean that I don't appreciate your words. LOL)