AN #1: Hey guys. Sorry this took so long.

Disclaimer: I do not own or write for TWD or AMC.

OoO

He came back late in the day to a buzzing house.

People were eating, drinking coffee. The kids and Beth were playing Uno. Glenn's face was bright and cheery, Maggie balanced on his knees where he sat at the kitchen table.

He walked in the back door in shock, the skinned and gutted rabbits in his hands slapping against his pants with finality.

Beth looked at him and laughed, wrinkling up her nose and taking Judith's little hand in her own. "Yucky!" She purred, waving the baby's hand. Judith stuck out her tongue with a lopsided grin on her face, and he found himself chuckling at her without really recognizing it.

"You jus' wait til this 'yucky' finds its way onto your plate," he griped lightly.

Carol came towards him with a laugh, holding out a bowl for him to deposit his finds in.

He smiled at her, looking down quickly as he released the carcasses. "Thanks."

She nodded sagely towards the sink. "Go wash your hands, fierce hunter." She bumped him with her hips as she followed him, rinsing off the rabbits and throwing them on a cutting board.

"I want to go soon," Tyreese intoned solemnly. Heads turned to face him at the end of the table. He looked up from under his brow, looked down at his folded hand. "Sasha is still out there."

The light buzz of joy was snuffed out immediately. Uncomfortable silence reigned for several seconds as the group alternately ignored and mulled over his comment.

Glenn piped in first. "Lilly thought Tara was gone until we met up with Maggie. She saved my life. Me and Eugene's," he stated imploringly, looking to the Army guy and the young girl. The man nodded quickly, looking around him and appraising them.

"So that's two of us. Me and this Lilly both have someone out there, and so we should go. Maybe Terminus is a good place," Tyreese added.

Daryl side-eyed Carol as he dried his hands. She was chopping off undesirables and tossing other parts into her pot, her eyebrows drawn in, her lips pinched. She saw him looking and made eye contact, cocked her head at him. She shook it, once, strong and fierce, and then went back to her butchering.

He knew what she was saying. But he knew what Tyreese would ask.

"So who we bringing?" The army man bellowed, looking out appraisingly and reaching eyes quickly.

The girl beside him shrugged her shoulders. "I can go."

He nodded, and then looked to Tyreese. "I want to. And I want Daryl to come."

Carol slammed her knife down hard, breaking bone with a sickening crunch. Everyone jumped to look at her, and Daryl felt a blush creeping up his neck. He turned to face her, an edge of anger in his voice. "Stop," he breathed.

She shook her head, eyebrows high. Didn't say anything, but her emotions were thick through the air, choking him and strangling him with their potency.

She didn't want him to go. He got that, loud and clear. But if Ty wanted him to help him find the only person left in this world he truly loved, then he would do it. Tyreese had given Carol back to him, and if he could return Sasha, he would.

He nodded silently at his friend, and Tyreese sighed with relief, nodding.

"I don't think y'all should take anymore," Maggie suggested quickly. "We need everyone else, in case something happens."

The army man nodded respectively in reply. "Will do."

Daryl felt himself fidgeting nervously, picking at his thumb, leaning on the counter beside Carol. "When do y'all want to go?"

"Tonight," Tyreese said with strength. "I want to go after dark, take turns driving through the night."

He shook his head at him, stuck his hands in his pockets.

"The only way there is by foot, Ty," Carol murmured, glancing up at him as she placed the meat into a pot to boil.

His face fell, but Glenn looked at her with confusion, shaking his head at her. "Terminus is a train station. You can get there by car."

Daryl, Carol, and the others waited for him to explain, surprise wiggling onto their faces.

He nodded, looked around incredulously. "Yeah. It's a little one, but it's a train station. Terminus Station."

Daryl turned to Carol and she looked at him with wide eyes, shrugged.

"Well, that's settled then. Let's get packed," Tyreese stated, standing and pushing his chair back in.

oOo

Carol didn't take kindly to it.

He knew by her original reaction that she wouldn't like it, but it was something he had to do.

He didn't want to leave her. Didn't want the chance of something happening while he was away, of coming back to a newly dug grave.

But he had to repay his debt. Make up for it. Prove his worth.

He had to do this. He couldn't afford more names on his list, even if one of them was Bob Stookey.

He was so worried about her. Glenn was better now, so maybe she didn't have to worry about Carl. But Lizzie was still a danger. And she had gotten hardly any sleep the night before.

He came up behind her while she cleaned the kitchen, shoving bowls and silverware into the sink with gusto, slamming the handles for water and slapping a rag on the counter.

"I know you have to," she whispered fiercely, scrubbing her fingers to the bone on a spot he was fairly certain didn't exist. "I just...don't want you to."

He swallowed and brought his hands to his pockets, fingers reaching and curling into fists.

"I'm thinkin' about talking to Michonne about our little situation. So maybe you can get some sleep while I'm gone." Our. Like he had any claim to her, to Lizzie, to Judith.

Her face soured even more at his words. She turned around and started on the dishes, clanking them loudly, just about slamming them on the counter once she was done.

He breathed deep. Tried to calm the anxiety that was making itself manifest in his chest at her actions, her anger. Carol wasn't angry often, at least didn't show it. Didn't let her temper best her.

She was pissed off. He knew she was sleep deprived. But he didn't know how to make things better without making her madder.

He stood beside her and set to work drying the dishes she passed to him, setting them in a neat pile beside the sink. She smiled briefly at him when he picked up the dish towel, and he knew immediately that he had done right. Her face was still contorted with worry, but the longer they shared in the thoughtless labor, the longer she seemed to relax, until they were on the bottom dish and she seemed to collapse in on herself, holding the counter for support, looking down.

"I'm just worried about Rick," she whispered. "If he finds out about Lizzie, I don't know what he'd do."

She peered up at him with those bloodshot eyes and his heart ached.

"We'll make sure he doesn't know," he whispered, bringing his hand to rest uncertainly on one of her own.

She shook her head again, rested her face on her shoulder. "You've seen him and Michonne. I think he took off his wedding ring. If she tells him... Let's it slip..."

He swallowed at that. He hadn't noticed, but Carol was always the more observant one.

"Maybe Lilly. That nurse girl?" He tried feebly, reaching for straws.

She shook her head again. "She just lost her child."

He didn't know what to say to that.

She straightened then, and reached down and pulled the plug on the dirty dishwater. She turned to him again, her strong, brave mask back on, a small smile spreading her lips.

"I'll make do," she said lightly, with a tone that told him she was done talking about this. "You just make sure you come back."

He swallowed. "I will. Promise."

She stepped forwards tentatively, stretching her arms out so that they wrapped around him.

"I believe you," she whispered into his ear.

OoO

Theirs was not a relationship in which he was the boss, but when he begged her to go sleep until he had to leave, she listened.

He watched her walk into Mrs. McLeod's bedroom, making sure she actually went and shut the door.

When he turned, Beth and Mrs. McLeod herself were staring right at him.

"You sure you don't wanna join her?" Beth purred, head bent coyly.

He scoffed, his blush returning, but Mrs. McLeod cut him off before he could quip something scolding to get the young girl off his back.

She slapped the girl lightly on the knee. "Don't tempt the man! The poor woman needs to sleep, god dammit!" He looked at Daryl with sparkling eyes, smirking at his look of horror. "Go on now. Don't make me guard her door."

He gulped and felt himself nod and walk away swiftly, the women's snickers echoing like gunfire in his ears.

Was he being that obvious? He wasn't sure himself if he felt that way, wanted that with her. Well, he knew he wanted it. But he also knew he shouldn't. Probably couldn't.

Most definitely couldn't.

He tried to banish those thoughts from his mind, tried to seek out someone, anyone, to take his mind off of things.

First he looked for Lizzie. She and Carl were arguing over something he didn't care to figure out. And Beth had Judith.

Well. That was easy.

But now what? He had six hours to kill, six hours of nothing. Just waiting.

He didn't understand why they were waiting, but if Carol got to sleep the whole time, it would be worth it. He wouldn't be there to share nightshirts, so it would be just her tonight. Maybe tomorrow night, too, if they took too long.

He didn't know how long it would take. These kinds of things were unpredictable at best since the Turn, with herds and car wrecks blocking whole stretches of highway. But they should be able to get back in two nights.

He didn't know if Carol could keep it up that long.

He sat and he stewed and he stressed for two long hours before finally getting up the nerve to tell someone. He waited until Mrs. McLeod had retreated, and then he walked over quickly to her.

Judith was being fussy, whining and kicking at one of her surrogate mothers as she writhed to be let down. Beth was grappling with her, scolding her and talking to her like she was a grown, cognitive person, but when he approached, she quieted.

He pulled out a chair opposite her, and she immediately thrust the baby into his arms. He tried to adjust her at the sudden jolt, but she was still pissed off.

Well. They would have to talk with her cries in the background. Probably a blessing.

She smiled down at him and the child, her hands folded neatly on her lap.

"I need ya to watch her while I'm gone," he whispered, not looking at her as he spoke. He saw her cock her head from the corner of his eyes, and sighed.

"Judith. Just watch her real close."

He looked up after his plea to soft eyes. She smiled gently at him and nodded. "Of course. Of course I will."

He breathed in deep. Maybe things would be alright after all.

oOo

He had to wake her before he left, so that someone would be there to watch Lizzie. He padded into the room slowly, his crossbow and rifle already slung over his shoulders.

She was curled into a ball on top of the covers, her shoes still on. She was sleeping deep, breathing slow and steady, and he made himself wait, procrastinate, give her as many seconds as she could possibly use.

He stood and watched her, and it wasn't until he heard the front door slam shut that he sighed and leaned forward, jostled her shoulder lightly.

She sprung straight up, eyes wild and dream-crazed, the pattern of the quilt leaving little tattoos along her cheeks and temple. She saw him and seemed to calm, brought her hands to her face and rubbed her eyes, yawned and stretched like a cat, her shirt lifting up to expose her midriff.

He swallowed.

She smiled at him with sleepy eyes, and then seemed to register his weapons, his boots. His grim expression of duty.

Her face fell and she heaved herself from the mattress. She stood and brought her arms around him tightly, waiting for him to reciprocate. When he did, she laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes.

He felt her hot breath flutter over his neck and chin as she sighed. She felt so warm, so alive, and it broke his heart and left his throat too tight for words.

This wasn't it.

They held each other for several seconds, and then Carol pulled away slightly and rose to her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, her soft lips leaving a shadow, a ghost of themselves, there, drawing all the blood to his face to supply it.

He didn't allow himself to flinch. Held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut and made himself relish it, remember it, supply it to his memory.

She moved away slightly and covered where she had kissed with a palm.

"I used to read a book to Sophia when she first started kindergarten," she whispered, stroking his face with her thumb rhythmically.

He kept his eyes closed, but nodded, left his head angled downwards. Waited for her to continue.

"It was called The Kissing Hand. It was about a little raccoon, who, before he went to school each day, would have his mother kiss his palm, and whenever he felt scared or alone, he would press that palm to his cheek and imagine her lips, and he would feel loved."

He let his eyes open, almost choked on her pained expression, her watery blue eyes that were being reflected back brightly from her emotion.

He swallowed, looked imploringly at her, tried to draw as much from her face as from her words.

"Did it work?" he mumbled, putting his hand over hers, stilling her thumb.

She smiled small. "I kissed her little hand every morning until the day she died," she whispered, emotion trembling in her voice.

He gulped again, steeling himself. He was going to do it. He was going to man up, be strong, swallow his qualms, and do it. Even if it was silly and could mean nothing at all to her, he was going to do it.

He averted his eyes, but when she tried to pull her hand away he caught it. Held it up and against his lips as he pressed them to her parallel lines lightly, slowly, letting his stubble brush against her callused, sweet-tasting palm. Breathed her in until he was on the verge of hyperventilating until he started counting the seconds between his breaths, making them steady.

He made himself make eye contact as he released her. Her eyes were raging rivers, her chin quivering, but her face was clear, her little smile genuine. She took his hand and she kissed it, too.

He left her after that, left them all, squeezed into the backseat of the truck beside Tyreese.

And he pressed his hand to his lips and heaved a weighty sigh, knowing that it was wrong, but praying for it to be right.

OoO

AN #2: Thank you everyone for reading. I'm sorry this took so long y'all, my mom has been in the hospital with a really bad staph infection on her upper back near her heart and lungs for the past several days and I've just been reading fics like crazy to keep my mind off of it. (That's mainly why I've been posting old stuff.) Anyways, I've run out of good ones to read, and I need distractions. Do y'all think you could give me a response for this one? It really means so much to me, and being able to see them and respond makes me feel good. Also, if you've found any good Caryl fics that are angst/hurt/comfort or even funny, I would really appreciate it.

Anyway. Enough of my sob story. I hope you enjoyed it! I'm planning for two to three more chapters, plus an epilogue. I need to catch up with AWL before end game though, so if you don't see many updates, it's because I'm writing for All Was Lost.

Thanks again! I love you guys so much!