A/N - Sorry this chapter took so long to get out. The flu came to my house and I've had my hands full with two sick kids, then I got it. I hope this chapter was worth the wait for you. As always, thank you for reading!

Four days? Maybe it was five days they had been on the road, moving swiftly away from the place that had falsely promised a safe place for all. Michonne and Carl had taken the lead with the others close behind them as nightfall was quickly approaching. They both had passed through a small place on the way out of the prison and figured it would make a good shelter for the night.

Sitting atop the green metal roof was a weathered sign for "Joe and Joe Jr's BBQ Shack" that had surely seen better days. As they walked closer, they stone walls and wooden porch rails became visible. Michonne and Carl went inside to check the building before everyone else entered the restaurant since they were already familiar with the layout. Everything seemed to be exactly as it was when they left, so they called to the others to join them inside.

The motorcycles that had been abandoned long ago in the parking lot drew Daryl like a magnet. He walked over to them, interested in what kind of shape they were in, and found a few that were pretty decent. As soon as the morning sun was up, he planned on hunting for some food, and then he would work on getting one of the bikes up and running. They weren't his bike, Merle's bike, but they would do.

Daryl returned to the BBQ shack much later than he anticipated. It was well past noon, but he was returning with a large turkey There was one Triumph in the group, a few years newer than Merle's had been. He had to get back to the prison, see if his brother's bike survived the battle. Carol came outside, leaning against the railing to keep watch while he worked on the bike, attempting to get it running again.

As Michonne walked out on the porch, the screen door slamming shut behind her, both Daryl and Caryl spun around to see who or what made the noise. She ran her fingers along the railing before resting against it at Carol's side. They didn't speak at first, both finding comfort in the shared silence, Michonne remembering when she finally let the dam burst when she was here before. It had felt good, freeing the wave of emotions she had held in since the beginning of this life.

"Rick told me about what you did. You were forced to make a choice, and Judith is here and alive because of it. I get it, Carol." Michonne assured the silver-haired woman at her side. They both leaned over the rail in silence for a while, watching Daryl work.

"I was just trying to save everyone. To keep the kids safe," Carol quietly confessed, not looking at the other woman. "At that time, I had already lost one. Now I've lost three." Resting her head on her arms in front of her, she allowed a few silent tears to fall.

"Rick told us what you had to do, but Sasha explained to us what really happened to the two of you out there. You were just doing what you had to do." Michonne took a deep breath before continuing. "You aren't alone, Carol. My son, Andre, he was three when this started. He was never even given a chance. His father…" Michonne's words trailed off, her throat feeling tighter as she said his name, unable to finish her story.

Carol was stunned. This was the most she had talked to Michonne since meeting her, and for her to speak of something so personal, so painful, she was caught off guard. "Thank you," she said, placing her hand on the other woman's. "Up until now, I haven't had anyone who really understand what I've been through. They said they did."

"But they didn't. They couldn't." Michonne knew the pain Carol felt all too well, never opening up about how she felt to anyone until now. Not even when it was just her and Andrea.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of metal crashing to the asphalt.

"Son of a bitch!"

They looked up to see Daryl spiking another wrench to the ground like a football. He was pacing, obviously frustrated by something on the bike that wasn't working by the way he was glaring at it.

"Fucking wrench broke my mother fucking screws," he grumbled, much to the delight of Carol and Michonne after their heavy-hearted topic of conversation. The ladies looked at each other before laughing at the misfortune the hunter was having.

Daryl watched the women, holding each other up with the assistance of the wooden rail as they laughed at him and the trouble he was having.

"You two find somethin' funny?" he asked. As frustrated as he was, he was glad they had found humor in something, that Carol was laughing.

"We're alright, Mr. Jackson," Michonne said, sending Carol into another fit of laughter. The confusion on Daryl's face told her that he didn't get her joke. "Samuel L. Jackson, that is. He drops a ton of f-bombs in his movies and your outburst reminded me about how much I miss those," she elaborated.

"AK-47. The very best there is," Carol stated, glancing at Michonne with a grin.

"When you absolutely, positively got to kill every motherfucker in the room, accept no substitutes," Michonne finished with a smile. She held up her hand for a high-five from Carol before turning to go back inside, still laughing to herself.

Carol was still smiling as she walked off the porch and came to sit on the ground in between the two bikes Daryl was working on. She leaned her back against the stones, her muscles relaxing as they absorbed the heat the stones held from sitting in the sun all afternoon. The sounds of Judith fussing drifted out through the screen door to where she sat, making her realize Daryl would have clearly heard their conversation.

"Daryl, can I ask you something?" Carol took his shrug as permission, so she continued. "Did you hear what I was talking about with Michonne?"

"Yes," he answered, looking at the wrench in his hands still. "Didn't mean to, but you guys were right there." He looked guilty, as if he were listening intentionally, but Carol knew that wasn't the case.

"It's alright. We weren't whispering. I suppose anyone could have heard, but I don't mind that you did," Carol said as she patted the ground next to her.

Daryl stood up and walked the few paces to sit at her side, stretching his arms out and put one around her shoulders making her laugh.

"I never knew about 'Chonne's kid. All the time together looking for that asshole, I never had a clue," he murmurred. "Wish there was something I could do for her. For both of you."

Suddenly realizing what he did, she tilted her head to rest on his shoulder. "You weren't having problems with the bike, were you?" she asked.

"Caught me. I just didn't want to see you cry again, and I'm already scared of Ninja Warrior without her being hormonal," Daryl admitted with a laugh.

"You made all that noise for us, to lighten the mood and make us laugh. Thank you," Carol said. "I know you said you didn't think you would be any good at this, being a husband, I mean, but you're the best husband anyone could ask for.

Daryl blushed as he kissed the top of her head, burying his face in her hair. The voices of the others talking inside drifted to where he sat. Carl was telling someone about how close they were to the prison. If they were close, maybe they could go back there. Even if they couldn't stay, maybe a few people could get into C block and grab some of the items the family considered special, something he considered special.