AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

Please note that some future alternating POV chapters may be slightly asynchronous to keep all aspects of the story moving along smoothly. Thank you for understanding!

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

111

Daryl chose the house with little input from anyone else.

At the time that he chose it, Sophia was sleeping between them, leaning against Carol and holding her doll tightly—not daring to drop her, even in sleep. Carol was riding in silence, lost mostly in her thoughts. Daryl asked her what she thought about the house, but she'd simply hummed at him in agreement and offered him a tight-lipped smile. He was pretty sure that she would have agreed with any choice he'd made at that moment and, suspecting as much, he'd already pretty much settled on the farmhouse when he'd asked her about her opinion.

Daryl chose the house for a few reasons. It put distance between them and the farm they'd left, so they didn't have to worry about the fire spreading too close to them. It was on a large spread of land—not too close to any neighboring house, but also not so far away that they couldn't spread out if they had to—with several barns. It appeared large enough to probably house them all, though it might be a touch cramped, for the time being. Also, it was the farthest they could really safely go and still be settled before dark, and Daryl didn't think that any of them needed to be trying to camp in the cars after everything they'd just been through.

Even if they only stayed here a night—if they found it to be absolutely uninhabitable for longer than that—they needed to stay here at least until the morning came. They needed to get some good rest, and they needed to get their bearings.

They needed time to be still and mourn. They needed time to do all the things that would make them feel human and alive again.

The farmhouse that Daryl had chosen was much closer to the road than Hershel's had been, but the road it was close to was a back road. It was removed from any of the tangled-up, haunted traffic of the highways, and it seemed somewhat quiet. Daryl hadn't seen Walkers for quite a few miles, and that gave him some hope that they could catch their breath here.

He pulled down the short red-dirt driveway, and the caravan that had followed him this far, followed him to the house. He pulled up and, slowly, the other vehicles chose places around him to park. The old RV—somewhat filthier than usual thanks to the mud and Walker-muck it had encountered to survive the night before and the whole of the day—was the last thing to come to a slightly rocking halt.

"Mommy…" Sophia half-moaned out as the they came to a stop and Daryl killed the engine.

"We're going to stay at this house, Sweetheart," Carol said, patting Sophia to soothe her as she woke from sleep. "It's OK. Everything's fine."

Very little was actually fine. Daryl knew that Sophia was feeling the sting of losing her family members as much as everyone else. She was holding her doll extra tight, and Daryl sensed that was just an outward show of inward insecurity.

He had no doll to squeeze for comfort like Sophia did, but while he'd driven, he'd felt the instinctive need to keep reaching over and squeezing Carol's leg affectionately. It reminded him that she was there, and she was safe. He hadn't lost her. He'd lost nearly everything else, but he still had Carol and Sophia. Her affectionate touching, as well, told Daryl she was seeking comfort and the reminder that he was still there.

They needed to be together. They needed to touch each other and reassure each other that they were both very much alive. But, first, they had to settle and to get Sophia settled.

Out of the truck, Daryl went straight to Hershel first. He looked tired and, honestly, Daryl could see his age on his features in a way that he hadn't before. His wife, Jo, was showing her age more than usual, too. Maybe they all were. Daryl was grateful that he couldn't recall the last time he'd bothered to spend any real time looking into a mirror.

"Look OK?" Daryl asked.

"Most of these houses were well-built," Hershel said as a response.

"What's the odds it's got wells that we can get workin'?" Daryl asked.

"Most of these farms had at least one hand-pumped well that might still be in working order," Hershel said. "There's a decent chance there's a generator that might run with a little care."

"You feel up to givin' me a hand gettin' it goin'?" Daryl asked. Hershel nodded. "Dale's got tools in the RV. We never took 'em out, so that means they're there."

Hershel nodded his acceptance of Daryl's suggestion, though he didn't bother to put words behind his decision to help. Carol had joined them, by now, and she was holding tight to Sophia. Daryl didn't assume that she would release her hold on her daughter until they were sure the house was clear and Sophia would be safe inside. Even then, she wasn't likely to go too far from Sophia.

Carol looked as exhausted as Daryl felt—as exhausted as everyone looked. Daryl's heart ached just to see her like that. He longed, at that moment, to simply hold her in his arms. He wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to breathe in the scent of her. He wanted to feel her next to him.

That would have to wait, though, at least a little longer.

"We'll try to get some power," Daryl said to her. Carol nodded her head. "We'll do our best to get some water going—find a hand pump, if we can."

"We'll go through the house," Carol said. "We can probably find some lamps or candles. Maybe enough clean clothes for everyone to have something to get through until we can wash what we have on. We can probably do laundry tomorrow." Daryl nodded, and Carol continued. "We can get together something to eat. It may not be a gourmet meal, but we can manage something to keep everyone from starving all night. If you think it's safe, we can gather wood and start a small fire for cooking and bathwater. There was a little pond just before we saw this place. There's bound to be feeder streams around here."

Daryl's heart swelled in an inexplicable way. Exhausted as she was, she knew what they needed. She would help them get what they needed.

They'd survive. As long as they were handling things the Dixon way, they would survive.

"You organize that," Daryl said. "We'll clear the house first. Make sure it's clean. Then—you can organize all that. Do what'cha think is best, but just…don't nobody go too far on their own."

Carol nodded. She didn't say anything, but there was nothing that she needed to say. They could speak to each other well enough with a good, hard look into the other's eyes. Carol caught the back of Daryl's neck and, without further request, he kissed her. He didn't let the kiss linger as long as he really wanted, but he let it linger long enough. He tasted her want on his lips. He understood that she was saying to him the same thing that he'd felt—she wanted to be with him. She wanted to feel him. There wasn't time or space for it now, but the desire would keep.

As soon as the kiss broke, Hershel called to Daryl from where he had wandered off to start looking around the outside of the house for things that interested him. Daryl started in his direction, leaving Carol to start organizing everything, but he was called back by a voice that grated on his nerves like a cheese grater being roughly scrubbed across his knuckles.

"This isn't going to be big enough for everyone."

Daryl stopped and turned back.

In just the passing of what was barely more than a moment, Carol—with her arms still around Sophia—had already started giving out orders. In response to those orders, Daryl could see T-Dog and Glenn heading toward the house. He presumed they intended to clear it as best they could, since one carried a shovel from the RV and one carried a hatchet.

Jo and her girls stood ready with Jacqui, waiting for further instruction from Carol.

It was Lori who stood there, hands on her skinny ass hips, criticizing the choices that had been made. Just a few steps behind her were Rick and Shane—and Carl near them.

Daryl felt frustration bubble up inside of him, and he focused on holding it back. He didn't want Sophia to see him blow up. He didn't want her to feel scared of him, not even for a second, but he wasn't sure that he could keep everything in check.

"Then, you damn well better sleep in the car," Daryl growled.

"There's no reason to be an asshole," Rick interjected. He actually sounded tired. It came out without much force behind it. Daryl didn't give a shit if he was tired or not. There was no way—standing here with every damn person he'd started with—that Rick could understand the kind of tired that most of them felt right now.

"The fuckin' reason is that I didn't ask you to follow me!" Daryl barked at him. Lori backed up a step. "I didn't tell a single damn one of you to come with me. We'da been fine comin' here on our own. We don't need you. Never fuckin' did. You come 'cause you needed us. Shit's gonna be different from here on fuckin' out. I come here with my family. I found this house. If your ass is stayin' around, it's 'cause you come with me. You followed me. You signed a silent ass contract to shut the fuck up an' follow me, then, 'cause I'm done followin' you. You cost me my brother. You cost me my sister-in-law…damn near a blood sister to me. You cost the whole ass life of their kid that weren't even born. I left. We left. We ain't followin' you no more. You come here. You followed me. So—you shut the fuck up an' you follow, or…you see that red-dirt? You can drive your tires right the fuck down it. Right back the way you come. Go to Washington or go to hell. Either damn way, it don't matter to me no damn more."

Daryl jumped when he felt the hand snake up his back and over his shoulder and squeeze at the muscle there. He tensed, and then relaxed when he heard her soft voice. He closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed because he felt, for the first time in a while, like he might simply break down. He might simply crack and crumble—and fall apart—if he didn't get away from the situation.

He wanted only to hold her. He wanted only to be in her arms, and to feel her in his arms, and to let go. He wanted to crack, and to crumble, and to do so safely—in her arms.

For the time being, he accepted her affectionate touch and the softness of her voice.

"I'll handle it," she said. "You go with Hershel. See if you can get us some power. Jacqui and Maggie have gone for water with Dale. See if you can get us some power, OK? Hershel thinks he's found a generator and a hand pump and—maybe we can get it the pump primed and working. Maybe we can get some power. I'll handle this."

Daryl looked at her. She gave him the softest of smiles. It didn't extend to her eyes, but he did see something else in her eyes, and what he saw there made his heart beat harder in his chest. She would handle this for him because she loved him…and he would do his best to get her anything she needed. He touched her face. His fingertips barely brushed her cheek. He felt the aching, cavernous hunger inside of him. He could wait, but he would be thinking of each of these passing moments as only a moment closer to when he finally got to be with her—when he finally got to feel like he could start to heal.

He glanced back at the small gathering of "them" that had followed the rest of the people he currently thought of as "us."

He pointed a finger in the direction of anyone who needed it, but particularly in the direction of the three who had, in many ways, caused them to be here, now, as they were.

"You listen to her," he said. "Do whatever the hell she says to do. If you don't like it, enjoy your fuckin' trip to Washington, and don't fuckin' write." He started to walk away—to leave it all in Carol's capable hands—but he stopped and turned back. One more time, he pointed a finger so that they couldn't question who he was addressing. "You fuck with my wife—you fuck with me. And you gonna be damn sorry. You got my word on that."

Daryl turned, then, leaving Carol to organize everything that she felt confident organizing, while he crossed the yard to find Hershel and hear what he had to say about the generator and pump that he'd found.