All You Leave Behind

by Lynnth2014

Carol's on the run from a mistake in her recent past, but the only place she can go has the man she ran from originally. She had to find somewhere safe for her daughter, and that meant going home, back to her friends and family, back where they would find happiness. But with light, there is always dark, and he was Carol's. He would find them, it was only a matter of time.

23. In A Second

"I'm packing the last box as we speak." Amy folded her quilt crappily since she didn't have a second person. "Since you don't yet have room for my...um, stereo, I'm just gonna leave it behind. You have that iPod thing anyway, so I can use that."

"That's fine. Do you need any help?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks to Daryl, I have my car almost fully loaded, so I have to make one or two more trips back here." She ran a hand through her hair and looked around. "Maybe I'll leave some of this stuff here. I don't think Daryl will be using this room any time soon, so I'll put it in the closet. Get it later and spare my wallet."

"If you need anything, let me know. I can pay for gas. It's really fine."

"Andrea, I'm fine. I can afford gas." For now, anyway. Man, she needed a job. She hoped her plan worked out or she was so screwed. Maybe she should get a bike. She could lose some weight and get fit. If she could afford a bike, that is. That's just depressing.

"If you say so."

She collected the picture frames and noticed the picture of them on the nightstand was missing. She frowned. "Hey, could you put Paige on?"

"Sure."

"Yes, Mommy?"

"Did you take the picture of us from January? It was still snowy, and we had on beanies. It was that day you tried one of Yumi's baked pretzel's for the first time."

"No, I didn't take it. I thought you did."

"Wait, it was gone this morning?" Amy frowned.

"Last night."

"What the heck?" She had been here almost all last night. She only left to go get some cookies from the place down the street. Unless Sophia took it. She doubted that. Sophia was too sweet to steal. She would've asked. How weird. Daryl wouldn't have taken it; he wasn't interested in her like that at all, and he already had a picture of Sophia and Paige that Shawn gave him the day after Karen and Milton left. Plus, he already had those birthday pictures. She'd bought frames for them and hung them up just three weeks ago. She doubted Merle broke in here. He didn't want anything to do with them. And why would he take the frame?

Ooh, what if this place is haunted? She shuddered. "Okay, baby, just checking."

"Are you having fun?"

"Sure, let's call it that." She maneuvered through the boxes. "How about you? Fun day with Andrea at the office?"

"She's been really busy today, and I have to be quiet when she makes a call, but yes. She's letting me draw on her tablet," Paige replied. "I drew you a puppy. I'll show you when you come join us for lunch."

"I can't wait." She grabbed a duffel bag. "What kind of dog? Can I guess it?"

"Maybe."

"A poodle?"

"No." She laughed.

"A Doberman? No, no, no. Or is one those big...dogs...?" She paused, the name finally coming to her. "What are they—oh! A German Shepard."

"You're bad at this, Mommy." She was giggling.

"Well, give me a hint." She headed down the stairs and saw Daryl carrying the last box from the living room out to her car. "Hold on, sweetie." She caught him at the door. "Thank you so much for helping him."

"Well, sooner it's done, the sooner you leave." He smirked.

"Well, I feel the love." She held out the duffel bag. "Carol so made you say that."

He took the duffel bag, say nothing.

She returned to her phone call. "A golden retriever? A pug? Pit bull? Am I getting close?"

"No. Not at all."

"What did you draw, a space dog? Or Clifford?"

"No, it's a real dog. I promise."

"Gah, I hate guessing. Umm, let me think." She thought over the dogs Paige had seen or read about, heading inside with Daryl to fill up her back and passenger seat. She would have to come back and do the rest herself, because Daryl had to work and Carol was working at the Greene Leaf till seven. She doubted Shawn would come and help. Maybe if she begged. Doubtful, she was already making him do her a massive favor. She would make it up to him really soon. He had no idea how much he was helping her, and she would show him how much just as soon as it all worked out.

– – –

Merle sat in the bar, an untouched glass of whiskey in front of him, and he gazed at the photo of Paige and Amy he'd taken from her nightstand. It was in winter—they were wearing beanies, scarves, and there were snow-covered leaves behind them—and it was close up, so he could see their faces—every pore, every blemish, every freckle. He could see himself in Paige, and it terrified him.

He didn't know this girl at all. He hardly remembered what she said the day he met her, but he felt ready to take a bullet for her. He had a daughter, and he was going to keep her safe. He wasn't going to let Andrew or his pack of assholes even think of touching her. He would beat them to the brink of death if he heard any shit like that from them. His life wasn't going to touch her anymore than it already had.

She was so innocent and happy and she had a bright future ahead of her with her mother. He was going to make sure she got a chance—a real chance. He wasn't going to be a shadow over her. He would watch her and protect her, but that was all. He couldn't let his life taint hers. He was a goddamn mess, even clean, and he wouldn't let that taint her future. She was sweet, he remembered, and he wasn't going to ruin that kid. He'd already ruined Amy; he couldn't ruin his daughter as well.

There were only two times he had done something decent for Amy. The second was when he left her a few twenties, and the first was when he first met her. He was fucked up, but at least he was...decent to her.

– – –

"You fucking bastard!" Amy hurled her shoe at him, grabbing her top and yanking it on over her head. "Go to hell!" She grabbed her bag and stormed out of the building, buttoning her jeans. On the way to the bus stop, she adjusted her tank top over her bra. When she arrived at the bus stop, she stood away from the people who were waiting, rubbing her arms and crying. The cold was numbing her exposed toes, and she shuddered, not even considering going back that fuck face and getting her shoes back.

It's just a big fucking mess, wasn't it? She wiped at her eyes, rubbing her arm with her free hand to try and warm the bare skin. What was she going to do? She had nowhere to stay, no clothes, no shoes even! What the fuck was she going to do? She couldn't sleep on the street. Andrew would find her and try to drag her back or worse, the little bitch. She had no one to turn to, not even Big Tiny. He had been taken in a few days ago. She wanted to help him so badly; he was a good guy, but there was nothing she could do. She was nobody, and he wouldn't let her get involved. She prayed for him. Tried to pray, anyway.

Shivering, she looked to see if the bus was coming, and she heard a husky chuckle. She turned and came face-to-face with Merle Dixon, who was completely fucked up. She wasn't in the mood for him. She just wanted to find someplace warm to sleep.

"Got no shoes," he noted.

"Yeah, so?" She heard the snare in her voice, but she was so riled up and so cold. She didn't have many manners left at the moment. "Um, hello. It's Amy."

"I know. Seen you around at a couple places. Where's the bitch?"

"Hopefully dead in a ditch." She rubbed her thighs together. Get here, bus, please. She might freeze to death.

He chucked again then stepped out of his shoes. "Here."

"W—what?"

"You can wear mine." He picked them up.

"No. No, no, no. I—I'm fine. My feet are fine. You don't need to—"

"It's fine. I don't mind bare feet." He held them out to her. "It's easier to run."

She looked at the obviously new boots and took them, sliding her feet into them. They didn't fit, but they were warming her feet. It was sweet. It was so unlike Merle she'd heard about in the many, many stories. What the hell did he take? "Um, thank you. Thank you so much." She shuddered, pulling her tank top strap up.

"Here." He removed his jacket and handed it to her.

"No, you've—you've done enough. I don't need to take your clothes too."

"I got more." He was wearing layers.

"Um, thanks." She set her bag down and slipped the jacket on. It was already warm from his body, and it smelled like him and oddly like oil. She didn't even care. It was keeping the cold out, and she was so grateful. She shouldered her bag. "What are you doing out here?" She wiped her eyes.

"'Bout to get a drink. You? Aside from cryin'."

"Me? I'm... I'm just waiting for the bus." She fought off fresh tears. "At the high school a few blocks down, there's a broken window, and I can get inside." She could shower in the locker room, maybe wash her clothes. She could pick a lock, so that was no problem. She just had to be careful with cameras.

"Ain't got a place to stay?"

"Well, tonight I do."

"You runnin' from Tomas?"

She nodded. "He—he's really screwed me over, and I won't let him do that. When I can, I'm getting back at him."

"Well, I like the sound of that. C'mon."

"What?" Her brows furrowed.

"It's cold as fuck, and my feet are fuckin' freezin'. C'mon, we'll get a drink, plot your revenge then go to my place."

"Uh—all right." She'd seen him around at a few places, and he didn't seem like a rapist. She knew his brother somewhat, so Merle couldn't be a total bad guy. He'd given her his shoes and jacket too. That was a sweet thing to do, and he was offering a place to sleep tonight. It was better than nothing.

They went to a bar first, Merle gave her a few drinks, but she only drank one of them. She didn't have the stomach for whiskey or rum. Besides one of them needed to be sober, especially if they had to cross the street. He was very funny, though, and handsome, which was a major upgrade from Tomas. She was warm and felt safe and the company was awesome. Things were looking up.

He was so wasted by the time they left, Amy was amazed he could stand. She helped him get home, and he passed out on the couch. She tried to wake him, but he was out, so she made herself at home. She locked the door and set her bag on the floor.

"Let's see." She stuck her head into the bathroom and found a shower that was surprisingly clean and worked. She undressed and took a long, hot shower to wash the scent of Tomas' cheap cologne off her body. She had to use soup she'd taken from a hotel a couple weeks ago—she robbed the maid's cart—because Merle had none. She washed her hair with the shampoo and conditioner she'd taken, and used a relatively clean towel to dry off then slipped Merle's jacket on.

She washed her clothes with the remaining bar of soap and hung them over the shower rod to air dry. She saw his bed, glanced at him then sat down on it. It wasn't the best bed, but it was comfortable and not dingy. She wondered when he bought this place. It wasn't new-looking, but nothing had really been touched. How odd. It was still more than what Tomas had to offer. A hell of a lot more.

Knocking her knees together, Amy contemplated what her next move was. She wasn't going back to Tomas, especially not after what he wanted her to do, and she refused to ever have sex with him again; the first time was the last time. She'd never felt so disgusted in her entire life, and she wasn't even going to go back for her shoes and clothes. She had a few extra clothes in her bag, but they were dirty. She needed to wash them too, but later, she was exhausted.

She hopped up and covered Merle with blanket from the bed then lied down on the bed. "Good night, Merle." She didn't have to wait long until she passed out.

– – –

"That Amy?" John asked, seeing the picture.

"Yeah." Merle stared at the substance in his glass, not making any move to hide the picture.

"Huh, cute little girl. You got lucky," he teased. "She looks just like her mom."

Merle lifted his eyes. "What'd you just say?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "It's nothin'. Forget I said anythin'."

"Why do you assume the kid's mine?"

"'Cause she's got your eyes," he replied. "And I've helped Amy out a few times. Paige is a sweet kid."

"You—you knew 'bout Paige? You talked to her?"

"Only a little."

"Why didn't you tell me? I've been comin' here for nearly eleven goddamn years! Why the fuck didn't you tell me?"

"That and Amy making me swear not to tell you is why I didn't tell you." He shook his head. "Do you want drink that ain't been sittin' out for three hours or to yell at me about your kid?"

Merle clenched his jaw. "She ain't mine."

"You can say that, but we both know that isn't ever going to be true."

"Tsk." Merle stood up, grabbed his wallet and tossed a couple hundreds onto the counter. "Consider this the first payment on my tab paid."

John's brows shot up. "Really?"

Merle walked up, slipping the picture into the pocket inside his jacket, over his heart.

– – –

"Merle." Amy shook him, he didn't want to wake up, and she knew it. She didn't want him to sleep the day away. If she couldn't, he couldn't. "Merle, c'mon, wake up."

"No..."

"C'mon, it's your birthday. You aren't sleeping all day." She smiled when one of his eyes opened. "I made breakfast. Decent pancakes and hash browns with fresh fruit."

"This the same fruit from last night?"

"The leftovers." She kissed him. "You have five minutes." She pushed herself up and went back to making the plates, glancing as he sat up. "Do you want some coffee?"

"Hell yes." He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger, climbing to his feet. He saw the table had bowls of fruit and eggs and harsh browns. "Looks damn good." He walked up behind her as she turned the coffee maker on. He swept her hair aside and kissed her neck, groping her through the underwear she wore, and she leaned into him, her fingers spreading on the counter.

"Before breakfast?" she breathlessly asked.

"Gotta work up an appetite."

She moaned softly. "The eggs will get cold and nasty."

He kissed the base of her neck, pulling her hips against his. "I don't give a shit." He slid a finger past her boxers and inside of her, and the sound she made... God damn. He buried his face in her soft hair, the pomegranate scent of her shampoo filling his noise, and he increased the pressure of his fingers, smirking at her breathy moans, hardening with each one.

"Please...stop," she whimpered.

He brushed his lips across the base of her neck, she shuddered, and he asked, "Still sore?"

She nodded.

"Good." He removed his hand, grasping the waistband of her boxers and tugging them down then removing his own. She stopped breathing when he slammed into her, taking her from behind, and he set his hands over hers on the counter top, her cry a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Part of her loved when he was like this, but another part was terrified of him when he was like this. He didn't know when enough was enough, and she wasn't sure she could always just take it. They'd been here for about two or three months together, and he'd take care of her. She was so grateful to him, and she loved being with him like this. He was this mass of muscle and to feel him right against her, to feel him inside of her, made her feel more alive than anything. She knew that he would never want to hear that, so she would never tell him.

She wanted to move, wanted to meet him thrust for thrust, but he had her pinned. She always wondered how he managed to keep her so still, because he was barely holding her. She wanted to touch him and kiss him, but when he was like this, he never let her. It was something she adjusted to over the past few weeks. She'd learned to fight the urges, but sometimes they were so potent, like now. She had to dig her nails into the counter, partly from wanting to touch him and partly from how he was fucking her.

His breath caused goosebumps to spread across her flesh, and she felt a shudder run through her body. "Merle..."

She wasn't sure her legs would be able to hold herself up if she came. After last night, she was surprised she was walking. "Ah!" She closed her eyes tight, and he bucked into her again and again, and she was lost, as always her body a willing slave to his.

She came around him, calling his name, and he followed, holding her waist, because he knew her knees were weak in that moment. He continued to hold her until she could stand, his forehead against her shoulder blade. Then he released her and went to the bathroom to change.

She pulled her boxers back up and pushed the hair out of her face, repressing a wince. She exhaled deeply then sat down at the table, the groaned that escaped her lips couldn't be helped. She began to eat since she didn't know how long he would be, and she was starving and so very exhausted. She'd woken up early to make this after a night where he made her come seven times and left a few bruises on her. She hoped tonight wasn't like that. She had no fumes left to run on. Her fumes had left, laughing at her the entire way.

Merle came out of the bathroom fully dressed, face washed and hair combed. He walked over to her, but before she could even speak, he kissed her deeply, his tongue invading her mouth. He kissed her like that for what felt like a long time then pulled back. "I gotta go. I'll see you tonight."

She swallowed and caught her breath. "Aren't you going to eat something?"

He grabbed a pancake, tossed some egg in it and rolled it up like a taco then left.

"Happy birthday," she called after him. Well, he'd ruined his only chance for a birthday breakfast. Oh, well, at least she had something decent to eat, and she had the place to herself. She could take a bath then take a nap.

She sighed and dropped the fork, not really hungry anymore, running her hands through her hair. She didn't let herself think about their relationship, but sometimes...when he did stuff like that... God. She ran her hands over face and began to cry. She didn't even know why, but it felt like she'd been holding these tears back for a long time. She'd made a few plans for his birthday, and he didn't even care enough to actually spend it with her. He probably didn't care at all, just as long she served her purpose. The moment she became useless to him, he wouldn't hesitate to throw her out on her ass. He wouldn't even blink, would he?

– – –

Amy drew a bath, her entire body aching from different reasons, and she crouched down, arms on the cool surface of the tub, watching it fill with water. She rubbed her face against the sleeve of her shirt, the scent of the detergent almost sickening. At least it didn't smell like Merle. She was tired of the scent of Merle and his world. It just gave her a headache. Tssh, the world and life were giving her a headache.

She removed her sweats and grabbed the bottle of pills off the sink, taking three with a small glass of whiskey. She didn't even care to read what they were. They weren't prescription or anything for only Merle. If they're what she had last time, she really fucking needed them. She was tempted to take more, but she didn't. She fought with herself for a couple of seconds. It was very like when you want to eat something in the middle of the night and you're so focused on it, you can't sleep, but you keep telling yourself you don't need and to just go to sleep. Go to sleep...

She set the bottle down and glanced at her reflection. She looked like death warmed over. Her hair was messy and looked dirty, like she hadn't washed it in months. Her skin was a tone too light, as if she hadn't seen the sun in years—she probably had a vitamin D deficiency. Her lips were dry and chapped, and her cheeks looked...sunken in. Her eyes were so big, the green so pale, and she watched her pupils, tilting her head slightly, and she snorted a laugh.

She removed her shirt, panties and bra, leaving them where they dropped, and she climbed into the tub. She wrapped her bruised arms across her chest, gazing up at the ceiling, and she took a deep breathe, closing her eyes tightly. She'd been here how long now? Five months? Four? She didn't even know. She was terrified to know. She didn't mean to stay here more than that one night, and it'd been months since then.

She was supposed to a...junior this coming school year. All of that ACT shit and her first prom. Andrea had promised to help her find the perfect dress and hair style and shoes. She just knew she was going to take that quarterback, because they were so cute together and—Aaahh! All of that was just some irrelevant shit in the back of her mind. She didn't even care about school or her future. She probably wasn't going to have one. Did that even scare her? Not really, no. It didn't matter. None of it mattered anymore, because everything was shit! It was all just shit. That was the only word she had for it.

She felt her eyes burning, and she inhaled roughly, pushing hair out of her face. Okay. Okay. She slipped lower into the tub.

She couldn't do this anymore. She just couldn't do any of it anymore.

She just wanted to disappear.

Opening her eyes to see the dingy little room before her, to really see what her life had become, then she squeezed her eyes shut. She let herself become fully submerged in the warm water, taking a deep breath before the water covered her lips. She listened the sounds of the building, all of the late afternoon beeping bustle and vexatious chatter of the street, and slowly it all...went away; as if she were taking a nap.

The world was quiet and peaceful; like it was just before the sunrise, when the world was silent, holding its breath for first light. It was as if she was away from everything...or perhaps there was nothing there to be begin with, and it was only her floating in vast water that washed her clean, emptied her mind and lifted her soul.

There was a weak ba-duh sound echoing in her ears, a whispered need spreading throughout her body, urging her to get air, but she didn't listen. She didn't care. She was...light...and a new kind of peace was within her grasp. She just need to be still and let it come to her. It was so...decadent, and she felt it with her fingertips.

Then...

Someone ripped her out of the water, ripping her away from the vast whiteness that was just within her reach, and pulled her into their arms. They called her name, and slowly, as if cotton were being removed from her ears, she heard.

"Amy? Amy!" There was an urgency in his tone that she'd never heard before. It was so thick in his voice. He wasn't going to let her go; he refused to let her go.

Why?

Her eyes snapped open to the harsh light of the bathroom. She gasped in air, gripping his shirt and coughing out water. She inhaled deeply, the icy air burning her throat, and she coughed. The world was blurry and white, but it was still there, along with Merle. His gray-blue eyes were filled with something she'd never seen or thought she would ever see: fear. Merle Dixon was afraid.

Of...what? Losing her? Having the police find her body? Having to deal with all of the questions? She wasn't sure.

"What the hell were you doin'?" His voice was growling, but so soft, like he didn't want to know the answer. "You... You..." He didn't finish. He moved wet blonde hair from her eyes and dried his hand on the towel he'd wrapped around her at some point. She wasn't sure when. Everything was happening so fast, and she couldn't really comprehend it.

She coughed into her hand for the last time, and Merle took her hand, feeling the wrinkles from the long period of time she had been underwater. She pushed herself up, trying to get out of his lap, out of his arms, but he didn't let go.

"I need...to get dressed."

He reluctantly released her.

She tugged the towel around her and stood up, Merle helping her when she almost fell, and she exited the bathroom. She pulled out a clean pair of clothes and dried off. She felt his eyes on her, but it wasn't to admire her. He was studying her.

Amy never hid her body. She sometimes wore jackets or long-sleeved shirts, but it wasn't to hide. So to see her like this, naked and in direct light, was new for him. Whenever they had sex, it was either dark or she still had clothes on, because they were in the hall or a bathroom. He'd never noticed the bruises on her torso, mostly in the shape of hands, and she never said anything about them. The sight of them horrified him. He'd never meant to hurt her in any way. To see that he had done this to her, to find her drowning herself in their bathroom...shook him. He had no idea what he'd been doing to her.

She dried her hair off with the towel and sat down on the couch, fully dressed and not looking at him.

A booming silence filled the room, Merle just stood there, soaking wet from her bathwater, and Amy folded the towel and ran a hand through her hair. The silence was choking them both; they just didn't know what to do to fill it.

"Were you ever gonna tell me?" His voice was uncharacteristically soft.

"Tell you what?" She picked up her brush and ran it through her hair.

"Don't fuck with me, Amy. You know exactly what I'm talkin' 'bout."

"Why does it matter?" She carried the towel into the bathroom and hung it over the rod, seeing the tub was still full of water.

"It matters." His eyes were blazing, and she knew what this was about.

"Look, I managed. I'm fine, aren't I?"

"Fine? How in the hell do think you're fine after what you just tried to do?!"

"What I tried to do? I took a bath, Merle! How is a bath dangerous?"

"I know what takin' a bath looks like, and that wasn't it! You were tryin' to—"

"Trying to what?" she snapped, her voice echoing in the apartment. "What do you think I was trying to do?!"

"You'd have drowned if I hadn't come in when I did." He felt so heavy, and he hated the way those words felt coming out of his mouth. God damn, what the hell was going on inside of him? He'd never felt anything...quite like this before, and it scared the shit out of him.

"I would not have drown!"

A knock on their door stopped him from shouting back, and in walked their neighbor, this cute little old woman who was always had a joint in on hand and a cookbook in the other. She was so sweet to them, and she was the main reason they had decent food.

"Sorry to interrupt. I thought y'all might like this." She smiled an apology, and set a wrapped casserole or cake on their table then left.

Amy went over and locked the door. At least she knocked. She splayed her hands on the door and shook her head. "God." Her voice was airy and small.

"Am I so horrible?"

She turned, her back against the door, and she ran her hands through her hair. "You're killing me, Merle."

His eyes flashed.

She fell to the floor. "I'm done. I can't do this anymore."

"Then leave! I don't need you and your shit! Get out!"

"Maybe I will." She climbed to her feet. "It'd be the best decision of my life!" She went over to the bed and grabbed her duffel bag and went to the dresser.

He scoffed. "Shoulda just..."

"Should've just what?" She tossed the bag aside. "Let me die? That's really sweet, Merle. Now that you can't fuck me, you want me dead? Great job, Mason!"

He lunged and slammed her against the wall, one arm across her chest, the other at her neck. "The fuck you just call me?"

"You heard me perfectly well." She glowered. "Get off!"

"You want to compare me to a man who you don't even know?"

"Oh, I know. He abused you and Daryl and your mom, right?" She struggled to loosen his grip. "You can't hide every scar."

His looked at her with such seething rage.

"Do you want to hit me? Choke me?" She dug her nails into his hand.

He released her, but didn't move back. "Just go!"

"No." She gripped her neck, but he hadn't hurt her. "I'm not going anywhere." She had nowhere to go anyway.

"Then go "take a bath"."

"If I had drowned, would you even care?" She searched his eyes. "I saw that look in your eyes, and I heard that tone. You can't just pretend it wasn't there!"

"Look, bitch, I don't love you—"

"I don't need you to love me!" she shouted. "I just—I just am sick and tired of it all, Merle!" Her voice broke. "You have no idea what it's like to be with you and not be with you!"

"What?"

"It's exhausting, and I don't even get treated like a person! All you want from me is my body, and I know that. Some days, I'm okay with that, but not today."

He stared at her.

She crossed her arms. "Andrea's birthday is today. She's...twenty, I think."

"Then take your ass over there."

"Oh, my God. Can you just listen for five goddamn minutes?!" She grabbed her purse. "At least your father knows what type of man he is." She left, slamming the door and leaving. She didn't know where she was going, but she just needed away from him.

She walked around for hours, only stopping once in the park to buy something to eat, and she curled up by a tree. She didn't want to cry, but she couldn't help it. She was so angry and so tired of life. Every morning she woke up, she cringed. She had nothing to live for anymore. She was just...popping pills and taking shots. That's it. She'd had more whiskey in the past few months that most people had in their entire lives, it felt like. She wasn't even sure how her body was still going, because her mind was giving up.

When she was a little girl, she wanted nothing more than to grow up and become a professional dancer or teach dance, but that wasn't going to ever happen. She had no high school diploma, no money, no redeeming qualities. She'd probably flip burgers for the rest of her life. Or overdose one of these days. Or mix the wrong pills with the wrong alcohol. She didn't even care at this point. She was so tempted to go quietly and pray Merle at least turned in her body. Maybe her parents would claim her and bury her. Or she'd probably become maggot food in a ditch somewhere. How befitting.

She wiped her cheeks, the sun was about to set, and she shivered. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked over as Merle sat down beside her, letting out a small laugh when he held out a soft baked pretzel. She sniffed and accepted the pretzel, setting it in her lap and taking a small piece off, eating it. It was fresh and unsalted—her favorite.

"I'm an ass, I know."

She ate another piece of the pretzel, glancing at him, silent.

"When I was 'bout nineteen, my...mom burned to death."

She lowered the piece of pretzel. "How?"

"Well...bitch liked her wine." He studied the ground. "She liked to smoke in bed. Virginia Slims. I wasn't 'round at the time, but I was told 'bout it later. She...was burnt down to nothin', took that shithole of a house with her. There was...nothin' left of the house or of her. There was no proof either of 'em had been there. They were just...erased."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"When I came back and called to you and you didn't say nothin' back, I figured you'd left." He leaned back. "But then I saw you in the tub...just lyin' in there...like you were sleepin'." His eyes were wide and vacant. "It wasn't like her...just gone 'cause you were right there. I was there this time. I—I'd done that to you, drove you to—"

"No," she softly interrupted. She knew Merle had blocked out certain words and phrases that most people used to let others know they cared, but he had his own way of telling people how he felt about them. This was his way of telling her he cared, and maybe even his way of saying goodbye. "No, it wasn't you."

"It was."

"I don't know why I did what I did in the bathroom," she told him. "I just...broke, but I didn't do it because of you. I did it because of me. For once, it had nothing to do with you."

He didn't snicker or snort.

"Merle, believe me, it wasn't you." She set her hand on his knee. "I'm sorry for calling you Mason. You didn't deserve that."

He looked at her. "You weren't wrong."

"I was wrong." She set the pretzel down and moved closer to him. "You're not like him in a lot of ways, and I only said that to hurt you. It—It was stupid and selfish."

He shook his head. "Why'd you come here?"

"It's the only park hardly anyone comes to."

He sighed. "It's gettin' dark. You stayin'?"

"Not if I don't have to."

"Somebody's gonna have to eat that bitch's casserole."

She laughed. "You're so rude. They're not that bad. You've had one."

"When I was fucked up, yeah."

"Tsh. Let's go." She stood up and gripped his hand, but he didn't stand, just pulled her back. "What?"

He met her eyes. He had so many things he wanted to tell her, but he couldn't think of any of them. He didn't want to think about what would've happened if he hadn't gotten to her in time. He didn't want to think about how it killed to see her eyes so red. He didn't want to think about how much this girl meant to him, because he knew he would screw it all up again. He always did. Maybe this time she'd leave him and straighten her life out. Maybe.

He rose and looked into her eyes, sweeping hair off her shoulder and erasing the space between them by grasping the hair at the back of her neck. He crushed his mouth against hers, encircling her waist and leaving no room between them. He parted her lips, cupping her cheek, and...he hesitated, pulling back for a moment, his forehead resting on hers, breathing heavily.

"You know, I've always loved nature," she murmured, her fingers spreading over his forearms.

"Me too." He kissed her deeply, their warm breath mingling when she opened her mouth to his, and he slipped his fingers through her hair as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He shifted his hands to her thighs when she jumped up and link her legs around his hips, and he pushed her against the tree behind them...

– – –

Merle watched from a distance as Amy scooped up Paige, hugging her and then set her down and hugged Andrea. They both took of one Paige's hands and walked toward Andrea's car. He smiled a little to see Paige. He was glad the kid was happy. He would make sure she was always happy, and he would help them out as much as he could, so it definitely was time for him to man up.

– – –

Carol walked into Daryl's house that warm spring night since he had taken care of Sophia while she closed the shop today. She had to do all of the heavy living and she had to rearrange the stockroom, because it was just a mess. Her mom was there, but Carol didn't want her to do anything besides help to cook. She was glad to see her mom out and about.

"Is she upstairs?"

"Yeah." He noticed the wince that crossed her face. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing." She rubbed her shoulder.

"That ain't nothin'." He set his crossbow down on the island and went over to her. "Your shoulder?"

"Yeah, I had to lift a lot of boxes and some them probably weight the same as me. You'd think my back would hurt." She did accidentally run into the wall, though. "I'll take something when I get home."

"Hold on." He turned her so her back was facing him, she turned her head to look at him, and he began to gently massage her shoulder.

She stood there, partly enjoying the massage as his finger kneaded away the ache, and mostly awkward since his offer wasn't a question and he was standing so close that she could feel his body heat. She tried not to laugh, but the smile appeared, and she looked at him over her shoulder, exhaling a small laugh.

He slowly stopped then stepped back. "She's...uh, in our old room."

"Yeah?" She turned. "I'll get her in a minute. I want to talk to you." Karen's words played in her head every day, and the past three weeks of seeing Daryl every day and spending time with him for Sophia has just been...so hard. He watched at her sometimes with this...look and she didn't know what it was. Thankfulness? Kindness? Indifference? She wasn't sure, but she needed to talk to him about it.

"What about?"

"Uhh..." And...she chickened out. "Amy. How weird is it that she doesn't live here anymore? No more perfumes or hairsprays filling the air. No more giggling or late night chatter. It must be great, yeah?" Not at all stupid. Good job.

He shrugged. "With y'all here, not much's changed."

"I don't use hairspray."

"You wear perfume."

"Only when there's a potential fathers in the store."

He frowned.

"I'm kidding. My last date was...awkward, so it'll be some time before I go on another." She headed upstairs before she said anything else.

She found Sophia nestled in blankets in their old bedroom, and she smiled, grabbing her backpack and place Dee Dee inside before shouldering it. She picked her up, careful to not wake her, and she carried her downstairs. "Could you get the doors for me?"

He opened the front door then the car door, and Carol set her inside gently, placing her backpack on the floor. "Goin' home?"

"I needed to go to the store, but it can wait." She closed the door as softly as she could then turned to him. "I need a favor."

"I'm takin' Sophia home Thursday, I know."

"No. It's about my car. It's been...weird."

"I can take a look now."

"No, it's late, and you were doing something before I came to get her. It might also wake Sophia, so I'll just come by the shop tomorrow. Mag and I are going to the gun range in the morning then we're delivering food, so I'll try and come by after. Is that all right?"

He nodded.

"Thanks." She smiled. "Have a good night."

"Yeah, you too."

Awkward... Well, at least it's not getting worse, she thought as she got in the car.

Daryl watched her pull out and started to go back inside when he noticed a man across the street. He narrowed his eyes, knowing that man didn't live in this neighborhood, because he was shady as shit. Daryl started to approach him, but he walked away. Who the hell was that?

––

"It's so late. God, I am so sorry." Amy walked with Shawn to their cars.

"Don't worry about it. I insisted." He rubbed his neck. "I don't know why I insisted, but I did."

"If you want to stop, I completely understand. I mean, with Sasha and the babies and the nursery you still have not painted—"

"Hey, I want it to be perfect. I'm not someone who is simply procrastinating; I'm someone who simply enjoys perfection."

"I can practically taste that bullshit."

He laughed. "Yeah, I know."

"Real reason?" She pulled her hair out of the bun.

"I don't know." He shrugged. "Carol's never gonna help me, 'cause of her Daryl thing and the Greene Leaf, and I don't want Sasha inhaling the fumes, so it'll just be me. I suck at painting, but my mother insists I'm good at it. I think she has cataracts."

She giggled. "That's mean."

"You wanna see my work? It isn't pretty."

"Every artist says that," she argued. "I'm sure it's fine. If it's anything like your photos, it's well done and captures unspoken words."

"You're just saying that so I'll keep sneaking around with you."

"Oh, totally. I'm using you for your body."

He sniggered nefariously. "We'll see who's using who."

"Indeed we will, nerd."

"I have four months until they're here, so I'll worry about it then."

She dug her keys out of her bag. "So, I have to take Paige shopping when she gets out of school, but I'm taking her over to Greene Leaf after so she spend time with Sophia. I think Beth or Maggie is picking them up, but I dunno. I'll call Carol later to make sure. Anyway, do you want me to come over? I can help paint."

"Not tomorrow. I have to sneakily take pictures of Sasha, and it could take all day to get one, so why not...next week on Wednesday?"

"I'll have to see. I'm going to see Dale sometime next week, and I want it to be early in the week, because he has business out of the city."

"Just lemme know what you have time."

"I'll have tomorrow night free. Can you get away?"

"She's not a jailer; she's my wife." He stopped by his car. "I probably can. Uh, do you want me to walk you to your car?"

"It's ten feet away. I'll be fine." She smiled. "Thank you for tonight. I really appreciate it. I mean it, really."

"As long as you tell no one about this, I'm glad to "let you use my body"."

She hugged him. "Thanks again. Have a good night and lemme know about tomorrow."

"Yeah." He watched her get into her car and leave, not wanting one of Tomas' asshole friends to try and grab her, then did so himself.

– – –

"Your aim sucks." Maggie shook her head.

"Well, I didn't run off to become a thug." She sighed. "I can barely use this stupid thing."

"You're doing fine for your first time."

"You just told me I sucked."

"Well, I'm tryin' to be polite." She walked over to her. "Here, try this one. It's a Walther P99, optional-sized handgrip. It's good for women."

"And you carry what?"

"A Glock. Why?"

"Just wondering." She turned her attention back to the target. "If I don't get this, can we stop and eat? I'm starving."

"We just ate breakfast."

"Seven hours ago!"

"Show me you've learned somethin', and maybe."

"Slave driver."

After emptying yet another clip and hitting nothing, Maggie decided to help her again. She wasn't sure how much more she could help Carol. She might have to get Shane in here.

She walked over to her. "Here, square off to target. Feet shoulder-distance apart." She slid her arms over Carol's, adjusting her elbow and shoulder. "Good. Gauntlet your right fist in your left palm."

Carol pulled the trigger and managed to at least hit the target. It was better than nothing.

"Well, it looks like we're finally gettin' somewhere."

They worked on her aim for four more hours, Maggie bought her a bag of chips and a soda, but other than that, they didn't take a break or leave. She knew about the 9mm Carol had hidden in her closet, and if she ever intended to use it, Maggie was going to ensure not a single bullet was wasted. She knew this was a bit mean, but Carol was finally going well and hitting parts of the target that would wound a human. In addition, she seemed just as focused and determined as she was when they sparred. It was very reassuring.

"It's late." Mag pulled down the earmuffs. "We still have to help T and Jacqui deliver food."

"All right." Carol tugged hers down and set the gun down. "I guess I'll have Daryl work on my car some other time."

"Oh, that was today? I'm so sorry."

"It's all right. I didn't stop you."

"Well, I'll meet you at the Greene Leaf. Go home and get something to eat."

"Yes, Mama Maggie."

She hip-bumped her out of the way. "Shoo." She collected the guns.

"I'll be by the Greene Leaf in an hour."

"Okay."

She left and headed home. She waved at her parents, Patricia and Otis then went up to her room, tossing her coat onto the bed, and she ran her hands through her hair, going over to her closet and moving aside the boxes that once cluttered the room. She found the knapsack and the 9mm inside. She looked it over and sighed.

It was so heavy in that moment, and she felt the weight on her shoulders as well. God, could she do this? If it came down to it...could she? She couldn't imagine actually shooting Ed, but if came down to it, she would, at least, be able to hit him.

"Hey, pretty girl?"

She tucked the gun away and closed the door, turning. "Yeah?"

"I've made chicken and noodles with mashed potatoes. Are you going to join us?"

"Uh, yeah. I'll be down in five minutes. I have to wash up."

She nodded. "The girls are downstairs. Amy decided to let Paige stay over, so I'll watch them while you're out."

"Oh, thank you. That's—that's great."

"Hurry down." She stepped back and left.

Blowing out air, Carol walked into her bathroom and washed her face then buried her face in the soft towel. Her head was so clogged. She just needed to focus on the there and now, but always have that plan ready. It was a mess, but at least Sophia would be safe. That's all mattered.

Joining them downstairs, Carol took a seat beside Sophia, who had been all smiles and giggles lately. She was glad to see it. Paige was even happier. They'd all sat down about three and a half weeks ago and explained to Paige who Daryl and Carol was to her, who Sophia was to her, and she'd been happy ever since. She could see Paige wanted to have a big family after growing up with only her mom. She had a feeling it was because she didn't want Amy to be lonely, and having Andrea back in her life and now Sophia and Daryl, she must feel like Amy is loved and surrounded by family. She couldn't imagine how Paige was going to look after she met her grandparents and Dale. She'd probably be bouncing off the walls.

"Eat the carrots too," Carol softly scolded Sophia.

She pursed her lips, but ate them.

"Where's Beth tonight?" Otis inquired. "I know Maggie's helpin' Glenn and Jacqui, but I didn't think Beth was."

Annette smiled, knowing exactly where Beth was. "She's...busy tonight. She'll be home late."

"Busy with what?" Hershel wondered.

Annette shrugged. "She didn't tell me what, just that she would be late getting home tonight."

He nodded. "Well, how was your day, Carol?"

"Pretty boring." She shrugged a shoulder, mixing a bite of potato with chicken and noddle. "I stopped by and saw Mag. She's become a really good shot."

"She was good with a water gun, so I'm not surprised," Patricia commented.

"Oh, gosh, I forgot about that." Carol giggled.

Sophia looked at her. "What?"

She began to tell the story about the summer before Josephine got ill. Maggie and Shawn were such bullies to Beth and Carol, and they were chasing them around the farm with water guns. They couldn't get away, so they ran inside and hid. It didn't end well. Patricia got hit in the face four times by complete accident; Beth got hit five times, and Carol had gotten Hershel drenched. It was so much fun, but they got into so much trouble, because the first thing Hershel said when he gave the water guns to the four of them was don't play in the house. Luckily, only Maggie and Shawn were reprimanded, although they tried to throw the blame off on Carol and Beth. They were older; they should've known better. Sometimes being the youngest was awesome.

– – –

"You're not staying?" Sophia sat on her mom's bed as her mom buttoned the jeans Maggie had given her.

"I have to help Mag and Glenn." She grabbed a pair of socks and sat beside Sophia, pulling them on. "I'll be home when you wake up, and I'll make pancakes. Chocolate pancakes."

"No, thank you." She slid off the bed and left the room.

"Sophia?" She frowned. What the hell? She tugged her sock up and went after her, but by that time she was on the floor in the living room with Patricia, Beth and Paige. Carol didn't want to be rude and pull her away, and from the look of it, Sophia didn't want to speak to her.

"You're ready to go?" Annette took a drink of tea.

"Yeah." She turned and listened. "Is that rain?"

"Mmm. It just started to rain a minute ago. Put your boots on. They're by the door.

"I hate the rain." Carol grabbed her boots and shoved her feet into them, hearing the soft patter slowly increasing. "I swear to God, if I get caught out there, trying to help Maggie—"

"You'll be a great sister." Annette held out Carol's coat. "Don't forget to drive carefully."

"Thanks." She slipped her coat on, pulling her hair out of the back of it. "You know how to take care of your granddaughter."

"Yes, I do." She smiled. "Take care of yourself now. I can't lose you to a car accident."

"Can't I just stay home where it's warm?" Carol whined.

"You promised to help Maggie deliver those meals. Theodore and Tyreese can only cover so much ground." She was all matter-of-fact. "These people will go hungry without you."

"Okay. Okay, I get it." She zipped up her coat. "I'll be back by midnight. Hopefully before."

"Have fun."

"I'll try." She hugged her mom. "Bye, Sophia!"

"Wait." She hopped up from the floor and ran over to her, holding up an Origami...thing. Patricia was teaching her, Paige and Beth. "Here, it's an angel."

It looked more like a bird. "For me?" She held her hand out. "What for?"

"To protect you. Nothing will happen to you as long as you have her." She set it in her mom's palm. Since Daddy wasn't going with her, the angel could.

"Aww, I love it. I'll keep this in my pocket, right over my heart." She kissed her forehead.

"Stay safe."

She smiled. "You too. Go." She gently pushed her toward the living room. "Go make one for Daddy."

"Daddy?" Annette's brows rose.

"We can attach a balloon and send it to him," she added quickly.

"Okay." She returned to the living room.

"All right. I'm going." She tucked the angel into her pocket. "Bye."

"Bye, honey." She watched her daughter pulled out. "Be safe."

Carol drove to the Greene Leaf where Maggie and Glenn were, preparing the last of the meals. They loaded up the trunk, Maggie gave her the directions to the houses she was going to, and Glenn gave her a coffee and box of Rhee doughnuts for the trip. She thanked them and left.

She didn't have a hard time finding these people. They were just past her old high school. It was the drive that was boring. She had nothing to do or even listen to, because Sophia had taken the CDs out so she and Paige had something to listen to while helping Mom with dinner, and her radio was acting up because of the rain. She wished she had someone with her. T-dog had Ty, Maggie had Glenn, and Jacqui had Yumi, but no one offered to come with her. Dirtbags.

She knew Daryl was working late tonight at the shop, so if she had any car trouble, she could just call him. She hoped her phone didn't die on her. She had Maggie's old phone, because she'd forgotten hers and the phone had minutes left, so Carol was going to use them. Maggie's phone was a piece of junk that died all the time. She really needed it to not die tonight should her car break down.

––

After all of the food had been delivered and all the kinds words had been spoken, the sky opened up a storm so angry, Carol couldn't see the road. She didn't need to since her lovely car had—of course—died on her. She wasn't sure what it was. She had gas, no tires were flat, and Daryl did the oil stuff, so it should have be fine. The next time Karen lent her a car, she was going to have it stripped for parts.

The doughnuts were long gone along with the coffee as Carol lied in the back of her car, waiting for her phone to tell her she have service. She was glad the backseats were down, because she might just have to sleep back here. She had some blankets in here, and she could use her jacket as a pillow. Makeshift bed, check.

An hour later, Carol sat up in the truck of the car, the rain pouring down around her, and she snuffled, trying not to let the cold and icy rain get her down. She wanted to be home right now. Or at the Greene Leaf. Hell, even at Daryl's. God, she was freezing, her clothes were sticking to her from when she tried to see what was wrong, and she smelled like a wet pastry covered in mud and melted tire. She probably screwed up her car even trying to get it to start. She was trying to use her phone again.

"Mag? Hello? Can you hear me?" She waited for two seconds, the cold making her impatient. She called her parents. "Daddy? M—Mom?" Carol's teeth were starting to chatter. "He—hello?"

There was only static.

"Ugh!" She wanted to throw it into the mud, but she needed it. She needed help or she was sleeping here. She took a calming breath and tried calling T and Daryl's shop. T or Daryl could be there. They could come and help her, and she would kiss them and bake them lots and lots of anything they wanted. Please, pick up!

"Daryl and T's," it was Daryl. "What can I do for you?"

"Help. Me."

"Carol?" His voice broke up now.

"No, no, no, you shitty piece of metal!" She wanted to cry. "Daryl, help! T-dog, help! Hello? Anybody?"

"Carol? ….you? Wh...are...u?"

"I don't know. I drove by that open field just near the high school an hour ago. My car broke down."

"What...? I...hear... ou...at?"

"My car broke down. I need help." There was static. "Daryl? Daryl?"

Her phone beeped as she lost both the call and power. Her battery was dead. She watched color drain from the screen. Angrily, she tossed it into the car and ran her fingers through her wet hair. She jumped when thunder sounded, and she tried to calm herself. She didn't need to break down crying in the middle of this storm. She needed to fix her stupid car. If only she had stayed with Shawn when he worked on the tracker and his car all those summers ago. Why did she have to study? What good did it do right freaking now?

She should've closed the trunk, but she was already soaking wet, and she needed to be able to see if anyone was coming. She might be able to see their headlights then jump out and wave frantically. They'd either stop or think she was trying to kill them. Damn The Hitcher!

––

She rocked herself as the rain poured down around her, trying to either calm herself down or warm herself up a little, and she began to lose track of time. She curled up tighter, her feet on the bumper, her head on her knees, her hands on the back of her neck. It made her feel better to make herself as small as possible.

"Carol?"

"Oh, God." Now she was hearing voices? Had it been that long?

"Carol!"

Wait, that voice...

"Carol!"

She lifted her head. "Daryl?" She looked through the thick rain that came down in waves so heavy white mist appeared and saw a figure running toward her. She slipped out of the trunk and into the rain to try and see if it was Daryl or if she'd truly lost her mind. She laughed out loud when Daryl came into view, the icy rain pounding down on her, nearly knocking her over, and she pushed wet hair out of her face. "Daryl!"

He stopped in front of her, slipping in mud. "Shit!" He fell toward her, and she grabbed him. He managed to catch his balance, her hands on his hips helping to steady him as well. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Drowning, but I'm okay. Are you?"

"Yeah. My car ran outta gas." He shrugged.

"Do you ever fill your tank up all the way?" She shook her head. "Forget that. How did you find me?"

"You said an hour by the high school, so I just drove."

"You understood that? It was so garbled on my end."

"I grew up with drunks, I can make sense of some pretty senseless shit."

She hugged him. "Thank you for coming for me." She could feel he was soaked down to the bone like she was, but despite the rain, he came.

"Well, yeah."

She pulled back, looking into his eyes, and she saw love there. All of this time she'd been trying to place a name to look he gave her, and now she had it. She searched his beautiful eyes. "Why are you so inevitable to me?"

"'Cause I love you," he whispered. "And...you love me."

"Yes." She nodded vigorously. "Yes, I do."

He grabbed her hips and pulled her flush against her, crushing his mouth against her. This kiss was different from the night he was drunk, Carol noticed. It was loving, but hungry. Whether or not Daryl remembered that night, he wanted her. She could feel his need as he kissed her, his tongue invading her mouth, his hands holding her tight, and he lifted her up onto the back of the car.

Suddenly the rain and the thunder and lightening didn't matter. It all went away, but it wasn't just the two of them. It was also this mass of want and need and love that made hearts hasten, blood burn,and it was as if they hadn't been around another human being or felt human touch and warmth in their entire lives.

The truck was filled with soaking wet clothes as rained pinged off the car, the windows foggy from the heated breathing, the air filling with moans and groans as Daryl thrust in and out of Carol.

– – –

Daryl woke to knocking on glass, Carol was warm against him, her fingers still laced through his in her sleep. He didn't want to move, but the sound was persistent, so he pushed himself up, groaning from the light that shined directly into his eyes from the morning sun, and he saw T-dog on the other side of the glass, smirking.

Daryl flipped him off for smirking, and he grabbed his jeans, glancing over as Carol buried her face into her forearm, the blanket still covering her. He slipped his jeans on under the blanket then he grabbed his shirt and threw it on as T opened the trunk to let him out.

"Well, well, well." T chuckled.

"Shut up." He buttoned his shirt and went to see what was wrong with the car.

"When you told Carol you were comin', you meant it."

Daryl sent him a foul glare as he lifted the hood. "You gonna help me or what?"

"Seems like you got the job done yourself."

Carol had woken up when Daryl moved, so she heard the entire conversation that was happening just outside. She propped herself up on her elbow, looking at T with sleepy eyes, and she made sure the blanket covered her. "Twice."

The tool Daryl was holding clanged to the ground at Carol's worlds, fumbling and mumbling a curse, Daryl scrambled to grab it as T's brows rose, and Carol giggled, not at all ashamed as she dug her bra out of the backseat, wrapped up in the blanket.

"Go Carol."

"Son of a bitch!" Daryl exclaimed.

"Go before he hurts himself." Carol found her top and watched T go to help Daryl. She couldn't find her underwear, though. They were probably lodge somewhere. She decided to look for them later. She already had to shower and change when she got home anyway, so she lied down and shimmed her jeans on then her bra, glad they were dry—mostly dry, anyway. They were smelly and stiff, but they covered her. She grabbed her top and slipped it on, climbing out of the car as Daryl worked on tightening something with red cheeks, and T-dog was laughing.

"Let's not talk about this," Carol told T as Glenn stopped to see if they needed help. "Morning."

"Car trouble?" He got out, and so did Maggie.

"Carol, thank God you're all right!" She hugged her. "I got your call, but it was rainin' so bad, Glenn wouldn't let me come try and find you."

"It's okay," she assured her. "I'm okay."

"I'm glad. We'll never make you do this alone again. That's the worse part." Maggie squeezed her tightly. "I hate that you were alone through the storm. It sounded terrible."

"Uh, Daryl?" Glenn backed up. "You have...er...uh, panties stuck to your jeans."

"What?" He looked down and saw Carol's panties almost in the front pocket of his jeans, hanging out. "What the hell?"

Maggie held Carol at arm's length. "Carol?"

"What makes you think they're mine?" Carol demanded as Daryl tried to stuff them into his pocket and out of sight.

Maggie looked her sister over long and hard while Carol prayed she didn't figure it out, and Maggie narrowed her eyes, removing her hands from Carol's arms. "They're yours."

"Prove it," Carol challenged.

"You're wearing my jeans," she began. "I hate those jeans 'cause no matter what underwear I got on, the band shows. I see no band." She slapped Carol's stomach, which her shirt revealed some of as it wasn't pulled down all the way, and she crossed her arms. "Besides, look at your hair."

"Tsk, well." She walked away to close the truck, and Maggie followed. "Don't." She stuffed the blanket back inside.

"Don't what?"

"I don't know, just don't." She slammed the truck and held her hands out. "It's not what you think. We aren't...messing around. We—we still love each other."

She grinned her famous I knew it grin. "You'll do it anywhere, won't you?"

"Excuse me?" She was trying to fix her hair in her reflection of the window.

"On a counter top, in a trunk, in the barn..."

"You and Glenn did it in the cafe last week," Carol shot back. "You spent forty-five minutes "throwing dishrags into the sink"? Come on, Mag."

"I wasn't judgin'," Maggie insisted. "I'm happy for y'all. I really am."

Carol bit her lip to repress the smile. "And guess what?"

"What?

"Ed—my dead husband—isn't Sophia's father. Daryl is."

Maggie covered her mouth with hands. "That is so great! I knew she had his eyes!" She moved her hands. "Aw, and y'all are back together too! Does she know?"

"Yes, I send her a text before I had sex with Daryl."

"Don't be a smartass."

"She doesn't know."

"Well, she'll be one happy little girl when she finds out."

"Yeah, she'll demand siblings too probably." Carol hoped not, though. She wasn't ready for that. She and Daryl were going to take it slow. Last night was...there. From here on out, it's slow. They still had a lot to rebuild.

"So..." She arched a brow, and Carol laughed. "How was your night?"

"Uh, wet." Carol laced her fingers together. "With the rain pouring on me. I still have mud cake in places it should never be."

"Oh, please don't spare any details," Maggie said monotone.

"He's big," Carol told her, tugging her shirt down the rest of the way. "Seriously."

Maggie laughed. "I didn't need to know that, Carol!"

Carol was confused for a moment. "Oh, well that too, but I meant body wise. He's...very well shaped, but he's so much bigger than me." She started blushing. "I love that, because when he holds me, it's like he's everywhere, protecting me."

Maggie nodded.

"When he thinks I'm asleep, his fingers will drift through my hair and down my neck. I get goosebumps even talking about it." She rubbed her hand over her arm. "And in his sleep, he nuzzles his face against my hair, and I can hear him breathing. It's more soothing than it sounds, I assure you."

Maggie hugged her, and Carol wondered why.

"Mag?"

"I'm so happy for you." She had tears in her eyes. "For both of you."

"That we had sex in the trunk of my car twice?" Carol eyed her.

"No, that you and Daryl worked it out." She released. "I was channeling my inner Beth."

She laughed. "Oh, please, Beth would hang a sign. She would write: reunited and it feels so good. I'll probably find one on my bathroom door when she finds out."

Maggie laughed. "I can see that."

Carol glanced at Maggie. "I'm very pleased that we worked it out too." She crossed her arms over her stomach. "I love him so much."

"We know."

"I figured."

"So...twice?" Maggie smirked, having a double meaning in that question, and Carol nodded. "Nice." She channeled her inner Glenn and high-fived Carol.