Carol did not like being parted from him. As silly as it sounded, even to her own ears, it hurt to have such separation.
Ten years. Ten years since she met Daryl Dixon. Ten years since Sophia died. Ten years since the world turned upside down and made everything so different.
And it had taken half of that time for the two of them to acknowledge what they meant to one another. Everything. He meant everything.
He rarely left. In fact, no-one left the camp very often. They made everything needed. Grew it, reared it. If they couldn't do it themselves, they tried not to need it. Ten years without the necessaries of the old world had given them plenty of time to get used to being without.
Carol learnt how to make wool. Found a book and got to it. Could make a weapon out of a piece of wood. Learnt to fix fevers and stomach bugs with plants and flowers. How to fix up a shirt so that it fit a toddler until she was eleven.
By now, the things of a time long passed were gone. There were no more medicines. She couldn't remember the last time that she ate food out of a tin. Drank something other than water, except the teas she'd been learning to brew from wild plants.
She'd stopped missing them. Stopped missing things that just didn't matter. Washing machines. Chocolate. Television.
Couldn't stop herself missing him though. Two days it had been. Two in what was expected to be a week. Daryl, Rick, Carl. All had gone on to hunt out the two things they really did need that the old world provided. Bullets and fuel. Getting more scarce by the day. Controlled by few people.
But their group, known as Camp McIntosh, had other things. They had the luxury of coastline in their camp, where they could fish freely. They'd managed to rear livestock, even gotten chickens in their last trade off and under Hershel's watchful eye, they were growing quite a sizeable farm. He couldn't do much of the physical labour, not with one leg and old age running against him, but he passed on the knowledge, for when he wasn't there anymore.
So they would take their livestock, their homemade medicines. Jars of chutneys and bags of Carol's best jerky. Trade them for the things that they wanted.
Daryl wasn't agreeable to it at first. Too many members of the living had tried to hurt them. Tried to separate them. But Rick had made them understand, it wasn't just about gaining things, but about building relations. Trust among groups. If not for their sake's, but for the sake of the children. For Judith. Others that would eventually come into their broken world.
So she pushed down the burning pain of not sleeping beside Daryl. Feeling his warmth down the length of her. Of making three less meals for dinner and double checking the perimeters because the ones who would usually do it weren't there.
But she only truly felt the agony of having half her heart missing, when it was vocalised by the other great love of her life, Judith.
She hadn't intended on being a mother again, but it was a role she fell into naturally and without conscious thought on anyone's part.
"Carol, when they are comin' home?" The child, rested her chin in her hands, slumped over the kitchen table.
"Soon, baby." She ruffled Judith's scruffy curls, before passing behind her to stir a pot simmering on the stove.
"I miss Daddy. And Daryl promised we'd get to try out those arrows I made."
"You will, Judy. Soon. A few days. Your daddy and Carl will be here, Daryl too." She smiled over her shoulder and Judith's bottom lip kicked out. She forced herself to turn away, to help her hold back the tears. Her eyes stung from it.
"But what if they Walkers get them?"
"They won't." She told Judith firmly. "They know what their doing. They want more than anything, to come home to us. When you want something that bad, you can make it happen. They love us, just as much as we love them."
"So if I wish it really, really hard, they'll come back?"
"Yes." Carol pulled away from the stove to stand behind Judith, smoothed out her hair. "In five days or so." She laughed a little and Judith twisted her lips into a semblance of a smile. "Now go wash up and come help me make this bread."
She waited until she was in the privacy of her bedroom, their bedroom, before she let the tears fall. But she gave herself ten minutes and then forced herself to stop. She would not dwell, she would keep busy to help time pass faster.
She'd hoped they'd come back early but they hadn't. Day seven dawned and she spent most of it looking out the window, kept an eye on the dirt track that could be seen for miles. She spent the entire day at the stove. Made all their favourite dishes for dinner that night. Rabbit stew for Rick. Chicken and mushroom pie for Carl. Steak and potatoes for Daryl. Made up three different desserts, brought out the bottle of scotch that they kept stored away for special occasions.
By 3pm, she started getting antsy. Wouldn't let her brain run through all the horrible possibilities. She had to let Hershel deflect Judith's questions, because she couldn't bring herself to choke out the words she believed wholeheartedly, but still pained her to say. He would come home. They all would.
In the end, she didn't even hear the truck pull up. She'd struggled with lighting the dining room fire with her trembling hands and had spilled soot and dust all over the floor. She'd been angrily scraping it all into a dustpan when she heard Judith's whoop of delight out in the yard and by the time she'd picked herself up off the floor, leaving black dust in her wake, the truck was already parked out front, the spoils of the journey mostly unloaded.
Her eyes picked out Carl straight away, taller than both Daryl and his father, a baseball cap twisted backwards on his head, it had been a long time since he'd worn the sheriff's hat, but she knew it was stashed away somewhere safe. Rick came second, hopping off the truck bed with fuel cans in hand.
"Hey!" He called out, waving a hand in Carol's direction, before taking the cans in the direction of the storage shed. She gave me a wide smile, but didn't linger, kept her eyes peeled for her hunter.
And then, like magic. She knew he was near. Could feel it. Like a little bubble of heat had burst in her heart and was slowly spreading it's way through her limbs. Daryl's head popped out from the door of the storage shed and he hollered out to Carl to pass him something.
He looked up. Locked eyes with him. They stared at each other for a moment, neither moving. Then Carl came ambling towards him, elbowed him out of the way to get into the shed and the moment was broken, Daryl turned and threw a curse out at the young man, who Carol still thought of as a boy.
They were busy. There was a lot to do and she remembered that she had a dinner to serve. So, she turned on her heel and returned to the kitchen, letting the others help with the unloading and she could already hear Carl regaling Beth and Judith with his adventures.
Carol was just about to call them all to sit down for dinner when the porch door gave a creak and Daryl came in silently. She always knew it was him, without looking, simply because aside from the door, he made no noise. He was like a ghost.
"What happened to you?" He greeted, running a finger over her cheek and presenting it to her. His fingertip was black.
"Lost a fight with the fireplace." She murmured, plating up the steaks. Daryl snorted and moved around out of her way as she served up.
They had barely touched and she could feel herself coming to life. Like every second spent in his company revitalised her. Brought her back to life.
She stopped her fussing and set the cutlery down, took his hand in hers.
"I'm glad your home."
Daryl's mouth quirked. Not quite a smile. No, those were rare indeed. He moved forward, pressed his lips against the corner of her mouth. He moved in an achingly slow manner, taking his time to catch her lips properly in his, pulled his hand out of hers and caught her round the waist.
Three seconds was all it took for her to batteries to be completely recharged. She was whole again. His lips slipped from hers and trailed down her jaw, before burying himself firmly in her neck.
"Come, next time." He mumbled into her skin. There was no time to respond, the door swung open and the whole group came tearing through, ignoring the two of them, still tangled up in each other, shouting and grinning about the spread on the kitchen table.
Carol pulled herself away, nodded once, just so he knew.
She would not be separated from him again.