Hi guys! I am REALLY really sorry for not updating so long! It's been a hell of a week at work:-( I hope that there are still some readers left out there and I promise I'll try to update more often, there are no more than one or two chapters left.

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The first day wasn't as bad as Carol had feared. They'd locked them in the decent room with three mattresses, some blankets and there was even a sink with running water. Later on, one the Governor's men had given them some unfitting but clean clothes. The most importantly, they'd left them all together for now.

Carol let out a small sigh of frustration. She didn't know what to do first. She tried to talk to Carl, who was still mad at her for taking his gun and stopping his attempt to kill the Governor. She was hovering over Andrea, who was still unconscious and tried to help Beth with wailing baby. On the other hand, she was grateful for all this work that kept her mind off Daryl and the rest of her family in the prison.

It was late at night when they finally laid down. Judith was sleeping peacefully and Carl drifted off as soon as his head touched the mattress. Carol was desperately fighting the sleep, afraid what her dreams would bring her. She heard Beth shifting on the other mattress she shared with Carl.

"Carol?"

"Hmm?" Carol didn't really want to talk to the girl but she knew she owed her some answers.

"What happened out there?"

"We were outnumbered, out of ammo, defeated. Exactly as we feared," she heard Beth gasp in the dark, but Carol carried on, "Glenn was hurt but when I last saw them, he was alive and Maggie, Michonne and Rick were all right."

Beth was silent; she knew what leaving out Daryl's name meant. Carol's shoulders started to shiver. Beth wordlessly moved on her mattress and hugged her tightly when their tears started to flow.

Carol woke up early next morning. She felt her face was swollen from the crying last night, but she was grateful she managed to get any sleep at all. She gently shook Beth and Carl awake. Judith and Andrea were still fast asleep. Teenagers stretched and tried to rub the sleep from their eyes. Finally they sat up and looked at her.

She felt awkward. They were waiting for her guidance, assurance and advice. But how could she encourage them now? How could she assure them everything would be all right, if she'd lost all her hope and strenght in a split of a second when Daryl's had body hit the ground? How could she make them believe in better days, when she was once and for all confident that her life had been just a cruel joke? How could she admit to them that for the first time she was thinking about opting out?

When she'd lost Sophia, she had Daryl. No matter how uncomfortable and uneasy he'd felt around people, for some strange and unknown reason, he'd become her touchstone, her ray of sanity she could always turn to when her inner demons threatened to tear her apart. She'd been doing what she could to return him this favor and although he'd never told her openly, she knew she'd succeeded in this task.

But now there was no one to turn to and she felt dull emptiness spreading into her limbs again.

"Carol?" Beth voice was no more than a whisper but it was enough to rouse her from her thoughts. Carol squeezed her eyes shut tight and took a deep breath. She had no one to turn to, but there were people relying on her and she would be damned if she let them down.

She looked at Beth and Carl.

"The Governor wants to use us as live bait, but I've got no idea what he's planning to do with us in the meantime."

She noticed Carl's jaw harden and he took Beth's hand. The boy was really growing into a mini copy of his father.

"It's possible they will be questioning us. Tell them everything they want to know apart from the fact I'm not your mother," she eyed Carl worriedly, but boy had seemed to get over his anger for now and was listening to her carefully, "we have nothing to hide anymore, just tell them anything they want to know. Do what it takes to keep them from hurting you. We need to be all right when the help comes or until we find out how to get out of here."

Carol sighed and looked at Beth. She didn't know how to put it; she'd never had a chance to come into this stage with Sophia.

The girl was beautiful, just blossoming between a girl and young woman.

"Beth….if they want to…," Carol felt the panic rising just at the thought of Beth being hurt this way, "if they want to touch you…threaten them with the Governor. The man is not right in his head but I don't think he is a rapist. And his men fear him."

Carol finally got it out of her chest and searched Beth's face. The girl was shaken but she took the information calmly and nodded.

Daryl felt like his body didn't belong to him. His mind was floating in the time and space, desperately trying to focus on anything else but overwhelming pain grasping his body. He remembered bits and pieces but no matter how hard he tried, he was not able to put together the complex picture. The events of past several hours were overlapping, disappearing and appearing again and at the end colliding into confusing tangle, which only made his headache worse.

He remembered the Governor's army, the trucks and heavy armory they'd brought with them. He recalled a fear that had been paralyzing his limbs before the fight had even started. He had never feared his own death, but the deadly danger his people had found themselves in, had been suddenly making him nauseous. He cared and had failed thoroughly by pretending he hadn't.

And he did remember the kiss. He still felt her warm body pressed against his and he would never forget the way she'd responded to his kiss. Carol had permanently marked his lips, ensuring him there had been nothing she'd wanted more than him, kissing him back with the same ferocity he'd been kissing her, knowing the tomorrow might have never come. Hell, he'd never felt more alive than in that short moment of bliss and he'd never wanted more to stay alive. For her, for them, for the hope that the world hadn't been so screwed up as he'd thought, if he'd managed to find such a kind and beautiful woman caring for him. He'd wanted to stay alive for everything that little confession of theirs had promised.

He tried hard to open his eyes, to assure them he was going to be fine, to look at her and promise her he would do anything to keep her safe.

But somewhere deep in his mind he recognized that the hands, slowly nurturing him back to health, didn't belong to Carol. They were gentle and caring but didn't linger on his arms or on his forehead a bit longer than necessary as Carol's hands always did.

She wasn't there and he felt it. He groaned in pain and his eyelids fluttered.

"Dad, he's waking up!" Maggie's yell drilled a hole into his brain and he shut his eyes quickly.

When he came around again, he saw Maggie, Hershel and Rick tilting over him.

"You really are made of sterner stuff, son. We thought we've lost you," Hershel's voice was kind and assuring, "you have been very lucky."

"What the hell happened?" Daryl's voice was rather a hoarse whisper.

"You got shot in your side. Fortunately the bullet went clearly through and didn't hit any important body organs. However, you've lost a great amount of blood and almost died on the table when Hershel was trying to put you together," Rick explained.

Daryl nodded, easily locating the source of the strongest pain in his side. He'd been beaten, he'd been scratched by the bullet and he'd had his bones broken. But none of it could match up with agonizing pain he was feeling now. He clenched his teeth and his eyes rolled back.

"We have no pain killers left. I divided the last dose between you and Glenn, I'm sorry Daryl," Hershel murmured apologetically, flinching at Daryl's obvious discomfort.

"Where's the rest of the group?"

Daryl tried to turn around but it was too exhausting so he fixed his eyes on Rick. He saw him exchanging a quick look with Maggie and Hershel.

"You should rest Daryl. We will talk later," Rick tried to brush off his question quickly.

Daryl's eyes narrowed suspiciously and his stomach knotted.

"Where's Carol?"

Rick was staring on the ground and he sighed heavily: "It would be really better if…"

Daryl just glared at him hard and Rick shook his head: "The Governor has kidnapped them…Beth, Andrea, Carol, Carl and Judith. Glen was shot, but the bullet hit the shoulder so he should be OK sooner than you."

Daryl felt his head spinning and he thought he was going to puke. He tried to sit up but the frantic pain shot right into his brain and he collapsed back into the pillows, passing out again.

They were questioning them, one by one. They took them to a different room, filthy dim place with one chair in the middle. The Governor wasn't present at the interrogation and his men were asking the same questions over and over again. How big their group was, how many guns they had, where they went for the runs and they had to draw the plan of prison. However, nobody had touched them and little flame of hope lit in Carol's heart.

Andrea was getting better any day and if they managed to stay out of the Governor's interest long enough, with her help and knowledge of Woodbury they could try to escape.

Hershel watched his patient with a deep concern. Daryl had been in and out for couple of days now, never staying awake long enough to listen to their arguments, why they hadn't tried to get their people from Woodbury yet, cursing angrily and trying to get up from bed, only accomplishing to knock himself out again.

"If he does that one more time, I'll tie him to the bed. He's never going to heal like this," Hershel sighed and looked at Rick. He didn't know if he should worry more about the wounded man in bed or Rick.

"He's is stubborn ass, that's why he's still alive. But if he keeps up this shit, I will knock him out myself."

Rick hardly got any sleep lately and was constantly irritated. The thought of his children in the Governor's hands was ripping him apart and every minute of useless waiting was an agony.

It was Michonne, who'd stopped him from going on the suicide mission. He'd taken off for Woodbury as soon as they'd dragged Daryl and Glenn inside and he'd learnt they'd been missing, although the car was parked in the same spot.

When she'd run after him and tried to convince him to stop and think about it, he hadn't paid any attention to her. He'd stopped only when he'd heard unmistakable sound of a gun being pulled out of holster. He'd frozen in his track and turned around in a split of a second, drawing his gun as well.

They'd held the guns at each other.

"What the hell you think you are doing?" Rick hissed under his breath.

"Saving your life. Or giving you better death than the Governor would give you. The choice's yours," Michonne's voice didn't quiver.

Somewhere behind enraged haze enveloping Rick's brain, he'd known she'd been right.

"We can sneak in with a bit of luck, but once we get inside, it will take more than two of us to find where he's holding them and to handle problems we will definitely run into. Maggie needs time to recover and Glenn and Daryl needs to heal."

It was probably the longest speech Rick had heard from Michonne and she hadn't seem comfortable with it either. She'd looked at him and waited for his answer.

He'd rubbed his temples angrily and cursed, still aiming the gun at her.

"Rick…the son of a bitch wants you. If you get yourself killed now, he'll have no reason to keep them alive."

Rick had lowered his gun and suddenly dropped to his knees, hiding his face in his hands, desperate sob escaping his lips.

Michonne had watched him hesitantly, then turned and walked back to the prison.

Rick flinched when he remembered his display of weakness in front of Michonne. But she was right and waiting was all he could do at the moment.

Daryl was awake again. Rick came to his bed and put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him down.

"Knock it off Daryl, the sooner you get better, the sooner we will go to get our people back."

"That fuckin' son of a bitch is mine when we get there," Daryl whispered through the clenched teeth.

Rick looked at Michonne.

"Whoever gets to him first."

They had been held in Woodbury for a week and they were treating them well. They kept them fed, warm and even provided baby formula for Judith when they'd run out of their supplies. There were days when they even didn't take them to the interrogating room and left them alone all day long.

It was at the beginning of the second week, when one of the Governor's men took Carol to the questioning session again.

Her breath caught in her throat when the door opened and she saw the Governor. They pushed her into the chair and he waved her guard off.

She'd learnt to read people quite well over the years and what she saw in him started a creeping panic at the bottom of her spine. When he spoke, the panic started slowly spreading all over her body.

"Well…I'll be honest with you Carol…," his voice was giving her the shivers, "Carol Peletier, is it right?"

His voice was low and calm and she forced herself to nod.

"Widow, lost her husband and daughter more than a year ago," he rubbed his chin and looked into her eyes, "your husband was an abusive bully but your daughter was a sweet little girl, put down by our common friend Rick."

Carol swallowed hard when he mentioned Sophia's name and she focused hard on the crack in the wall to fight the tears that suddenly threatened to spill. He must have got all this personal information from Carl or Beth. She'd been the one urging them to answer everything so she shouldn't have been surprised.

"The kids like you. They say you worked hard in the prison and how kind you are," he smiled and approached her, running his forefinger down her cheek. Carol shivered.

"There's no time and place for kindness in this world, lady," he leaned down and whispered into her ear, "I'll do you a favor and will try to help you to understand this."

Carol shut her eyes. Whatever he had in mind, it was not going to be good for her. What would happen to children and Andrea if he killed her? Would be Andrea already strong enough to try to save them?

"There's always place and time for kindness and for love. Look what you've created here in Woodbury," she looked up and tried to concentrate on saying anything reasonable, which would prevent him from hurting her.

The Governor smiled.

"It's all just an illusion. Kindness and love will make you weak and vulnerable. And will get you killed. The sooner you understand the better."

He watched in amusement, how hard was the tiny woman in front of him trying to think of topic, which wouldn't set him off.

"Like that white trash I killed in the prison, you know?" he was thoroughly enjoying her reaction.

It took some skills to find out from the kids the relations' tangle in the prison, but he'd found out that this hardly noticeable fragile woman had a soft spot for Merle's younger brother he'd shot during the attack on the prison.

Carol's eyes widened and she took in a shaky breath.

"I must say that the redneck was far from being as clever as his older brother. He could have lived, if he hadn't stood up to shoot the walker behind you and the boy. That's where love and kindness lead, see?"

His voice was causal as he was observing her carefully. Oh yes, he'd just hit a spot.

Carol felt the droplets of sweat running down her back and the room was spinning around her.

Daryl…it was her fault; it was her who had his blood on her hands. If she'd been more careful and spotted the walker behind them…

A silent sob escaped her throat and she hid her face in her hands.

Before she could think about what she was going to do, she balled her hands into the fists and threw herself on the man in front of her, desperately trying to cause him the same pain he was causing her.

She heard his surprised chuckle and then the pain swallowed her head as he stepped aside and hit her hard into the temple. She fell to his feet, groaning in pain.

"And it brings me back to the beginning. I'm tired of waiting and I want to have some fun with my new friends."