I just realized that I've forgotten completely about Michonne! We're just going to have to pretend they parted ways at Woodbury, because it's too late to write her in now! Sorry for that, I am quite absent-minded. Anyhow, enjoy! This chapter will be a bit…well…mature ;)

"No squirrels?" Rick asked as he sorted through Daryl and Carol's harvest from the previous night. Daryl shot daggers at him, and he nodded in return; in understanding. They at least had a lot more food: bags of rice, honey, canned beans, peanut butter, oatmeal, strawberry jelly, packs of beef jerky, canned corn, flour, sugar, pasta, canned carrots and peas, a jar of tomato sauce, even a bottle of red wine.

Maggie gasped as she wandered over to admire the goods. Beth joined her. They marveled at the jar of red jelly.

"Mama used to make this stuff homemade," Beth commented under her breath, taking the jar from Maggie and spinning it in her hands. Maggie gave her sister's shoulder a loving squeeze when she saw emotion clouding up in her blue eyes. Beth sniffed and wiped away her tears, putting the jar down on the table.

"How many stores did you hit?" Maggie asked Daryl. She fiddled with the bottle of honey, tracing her finger across the plastic bear's nose and round eyes.

"'Bout five. Most of 'em were wiped clean."

"How many walkers did you see?"

Daryl paused. He and Carol exchanged glances, mentally consulting each other. They hadn't really noticed the walkers. Most of them they just ignored.

"I took down about five. Don't know about Daryl." Carol replied, although the question wasn't posed directly to her. Daryl nodded in agreement.

"Sounds 'bout right."

.:|:.

That evening they ate better than they had in ages. Maybe it was just because they weren't so worried about running out of food. Carol used her knife to saw through the tin lid of the canned beans and boiled half the bag of rice over a low fire. Maggie suggested breaking the wine open in celebration of unity, prosperity and a warm meal. Nobody objected.

All throughout dinner, the prison walls echoed with the laughter of giddy adults and two very entertained children. Even Judith lit up when she saw her daddy gleaming with amusement. The only people that didn't seem to be enjoying themselves were Merle and Daryl. Merle kept his glare fixed on his little brother, who seemed to be feeling the pressure of Merle's scowl full force. Every time Carol glanced over at Daryl she witnessed nothing other than two rivaling brothers staring each other down.

After the meal, Carol and Beth cleaned up. Carol washed the dishes and Beth dried them, as was customary. They engaged in their usual lighthearted chat. But that night the conversation unintentionally evoked dark memories on Carol's part.

"Did you have any pets?"

Carol stopped scrubbing suddenly, lifting her head. Beth was wiping a plate dry with a raggedy towel, oblivious.

"…no. We didn't." she replied quickly. Beth didn't seem to notice Carol's less-than-cheery tone of voice.

"We had some. Not jus' the horses, either. Had this big fat cat named Chester. Liked to gut the mice he found in the barn. An' Shawn had this mutt called Scruffy who used to chew up all the furniture. He disappeared a week after the outbreak, though. Jus' ran off."

Beth reminisced and so did Carol, but they had very different memories. Whereas Beth remembered her pre-apocalypse days with a longing sigh and a smile, Carol wished she could wipe them completely from her mind. Beth knew that Carol had lost her daughter, but she knew nothing of her fifteen-year-long abusive marriage. She wouldn't have batted an eyelash if the name "Ed" was even mentioned, regardless of whom it was being addressed. But Carol would have cringed and remembered the sting of her deceased husband's hand every time it connected with her face. She would have remembered the dead stare in his eyes every time he looked at her. She would have remembered how afraid he was of her running off with another man that he forced her down and cut her hair.

"Carol?"

Beth waved a hand in front of Carol's face and the woman snapped to attention.

"Are you alright?" Beth asked, finishing another dish and placing it in a stack with the rest.

"Yes, honey, I'm fine." Carol assured as she rinsed the inside of a mug that had been used for wine. Pickings were slim…

The next few moments were filled with only silence. Carol tried to divert her thoughts from Ed, but it seemed his face kept wandering back into her mind.

"If you could eat anything in the world right now," Beth began, staring into the dishes, the movement of her hands temporarily ceasing. "What would it be?"

Carol thought for a moment, relieved Beth had changed the subject and given her somewhere else to direct her attention. Finally she decided.

"Crab legs dipped in butter, with chocolate cake for desert!" she announced with a laugh.

"I'd choose pancakes: big, fluffy ones with strawberry syrup all over them."

"Mmm," Carol imagined the meal Beth had described. She couldn't even remember the last time she made pancakes. She couldn't recall if she'd made them on the last Christmas before the outbreak or not. It had been family tradition, so she decided she must have. Sophia always begged for them to be in the shape of snowmen.

"And lots of whipped cream!" Beth added zealously.

.:|:.

Meanwhile, Daryl sat on his perch in Cell Block C. He was peering out the window and could feel Merle's eyes burning through the back of his skull. It was only a matter of time before that rough, demanding voice cut through the silence.

Everyone was scattered around the prison, scrambling to finish up whatever they had been doing before darkness blotted out the last golden rays of light. The two brothers were alone in the cell block, which was never a good situation. It was clear even to the Greenes, who knew nothing of Merle up until he joined them, that the Dixon duo had a lot of problems that they needed to work out—and they preferred to work them out by battling.

"Ya didn' listen t' me, lil' brother," began that abrasive, unmistakably-Merle voice. Daryl didn't bother looking over at him. "I told you not t' hang around that woman, 'cause she ain't nothin' but trouble. An' what do you go an' do? You disappear with her for six hours, tha's wha' you go an' do!"

"Rick asked me to take her." Daryl defended coldly.

"You an' Rick married now? Hell, sorry I missed the weddin'!"

"Shut up. Rick's my friend. More than you ever was."

Merle laughed. "Rick may be a better man than me, but I'm still the only family you got left. An' I can't boss nobody here 'round but you. You better listen t' me, lil' brother, 'cause I know wha's best. Ain't nobody here tha' knows you like I do."

.:|:.

Carol woke up to a hand being clasped over her mouth. She struggled and thrashed as she strained her vision, trying to pierce through the darkness and make out who was restraining her. Then, a soothing whisper shushed her. She relaxed as Daryl helped her to her feet.

"Where are we going?" she asked very, very quietly. He gave no reply. As he led her out of her cell, she could hear Merle's snores and was silently thankful. The bastard was a heavy, heavy sleeper.

The direction Daryl was guiding her was familiar. After a while, she extended her arm and her fingers brushed against a wall. Yes, they were in a hallway. Her eyesight had adjusted fully by the time they entered their little room. A petroleum lantern was glowing away in the middle of the room.

They stared at the radiance the lantern was releasing like moths mesmerized by a flame. Finally Carol spoke up.

"What was with you at dinner? You didn't say a word."

"Yeah, I wonder why."

Carol brought her gaze back down to the lantern. She knew the reason why Daryl had been so quiet. She felt terrible for him, but she knew if she tried to interfere in any way he'd strike her down.

"He's still pestering you, isn't he?"

Daryl gave a sardonic snort. "He's a lil' more than jus' a pest."

"But he has to let go. He has to. An' if you don't say anything now he'll jus'-"

"No, Carol, stop; jus' stop, okay?! Look, I know you don' like this, but this…this is jus' the way it has to be."

"Right," Carol murmured softly. The hurt in her eyes filled Daryl with guilt. He wished he didn't have to yell at her. But how else would his message register with her? How else would it sink in? "The way it has to be."

Five minutes of soundless tension ensued, during which Daryl observed Carol: her silvery hair, soft and tufty as downy feathers, her gentle blue eyes, the blank space on her neck where once, a long time ago, hung a cross. Occasionally he'd notice her fingers dart up to stroke where the cross used to be but she hadn't done that in a long time.

"So…how long's it been?" she asked suddenly, a tint of amusement in her voice. He hadn't even noticed he'd been staring at her chest. Embarrassed, he turned away, not even grasping yet what she meant. When he finally realized, he felt his cheeks turn even redder.

"I…wasn't…" he stammered, but slyly Carol leaned over, taking his face in her hands and nuzzling at his lips. She pushed him to the ground. His mind raced. He wasn't ready. Not yet. But somehow, he couldn't bring himself to reject her.

"'s okay…been a long time for me, too." She giggled in between deep breaths.

"Carol…I haven't…" was all he managed to squeeze out before she blotted out the rest of his sentence with a kiss. This time, it wasn't shy. It wasn't brief. They weren't saying goodbye. It was passionate and deep, and on the third try, Daryl figured out how to return it.

In hindsight, he supposed it was better that he never got to finish what he tried to tell her. He realized how embarrassed he would have been afterwards if he'd admitted at that moment that he was still a virgin.

When they were done, an exhausted Carol drifted off to sleep, leaving Daryl to work through his thoughts, conflicting emotions battling for dominance inside his breathless body.

Did I hurt her?

He'd tried so hard to be gentle, but it was difficult. She was a determined, strong-minded woman but her body and bones were still fragile. He could make out scars tracing her body, not unlike the ones that traced his. He ran his finger over a raised one on her stomach, careful not to wake her.

Why the hell did I do that?

In the dead of the post-apocalyptic night was the worst possible time to have sex. And now he had an even bigger secret to keep from Merle.

Do I even deserve her?

Carol was a battered woman. She needed an emotional support to lean on, not someone like him. He was so worried she would put too much trust in him, and one day something would make him snap and he'd lash out at her like he had twice before and they'd never repair their friendship.

"Ain't nobody here tha' knows you like I do".

What if Daryl didn't even know himself? Maybe Merle was right in some twisted way—maybe he did need to stay away from Carol, because he loved her and didn't trust himself with love?

What if she's pregnant now?

They hadn't used any protection. Glenn and Maggie were the only ones that had condoms. He hoped they'd timed it right. Besides the fact that it'd be damn hard to hide, pregnancy was risky at Carol's age even with modern medical care and the group couldn't look after two babies. One was enough. Daryl tried not to dwell on 'what-ifs'.

"I love you."

The words took all the courage in the world to push out, but when they were finally released softly into her ear, he felt like all the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He wished he were braver and could say it to her when she was awake; when it counted. Baby steps, he supposed.

"I love you, too."

Her reply caught him by surprise. Her eyes fluttered open. Her smile was faint but visible. And for a moment, everything seemed alright. But that moment would pass.