AN: Here's a little something for you. Hopefully more to come before long!

I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

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Carol felt like her body was on fire, or at the very least, like she'd been electrocuted. Everything single nerve felt like it was on end. She knew she was going to be sore…she already was…but it was one of the best feelings in the world.

They'd already gone two rounds, and Carol felt like she was spent, but she had a feeling that if Andrea didn't make it back before he was ready for it, Daryl was going to be pushing for round three.

Even now, as they both lie on top of the mass of twisted blankets and tangled sheets, Daryl lying next to her, dragging his knuckles lazily and absentmindedly up and down her body, Carol couldn't believe he was real.

She could never go back to a lifestyle like the one she'd had with Ed. It seemed so long ago, and so far away. It was more like a bad nightmare…something conjured up from greasy food and a poorly chosen horror movie just before bed…than the memory of a part of her life.

That was the strangest thing about the mind and memory to Carol at times. Sometimes she drew up pictures, unexpectedly, of her life with Ed and it felt like she was right there. She was in the thick of it and it was all just moments behind her, and others it was almost blurry, like something seen through a thick fog, and if she hadn't known it had all happened and that her experiences were really her own, she might have believed she made it all up.

Carol sighed and moaned softly when Daryl's lips made contact with hers again. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of him softly kissing her, their tongues dancing lazily with each other as he ran his hand slowly up and down her arm, leaning over her. When he pulled away he dipped his head and nuzzled the side of her face, the sound of his breathing in her ear.

"Andrea's probably going to be back soon…" Carol said, surprised that her voice was coming out a little hoarse.

Daryl raised his head and smiled at her.

"Maybe not," Daryl said. "Maybe the fucker's gonna take her back ta his place."

Carol knew that Daryl didn't want to get out of bed. She was pretty sure, now, that he was indeed working toward a round three.

"I'm going to have to make dinner," she said. "We can't just stay in the bed for the rest of the day."

Daryl kissed her on the forehead. He looked more like a nap was in his future than round three, realistically, and she knew that he couldn't nap right now or he'd never sleep that night.

"Why not?" He asked. "Who the hell's gonna tell us we gotta get up?"

Carol giggled at the smile he was wearing. He could look so devilish when he wanted to.

"Mmm..." she moaned. "Lincoln's going to tell us we've got to get up…I'm going to have to go to the bathroom eventually too."

Daryl snickered.

"Then ya just go when ya let him out an' we'll call it a vacation. Don't mean we gotta get up for the whole rest a' the evenin'," Daryl said.

"What about food?" Carol asked. "Are we just going to starve to death?"

Daryl shook his head.

"We can order somethin'…Chinese…Korean…Pizza…whatever the fuck ya want," Daryl said. "Go ta the door just like this an' give the delivery guy some shit ta talk about."

"Chinese," Carol said.

Daryl snickered at her again.

"See how damn easy ya is to convince 'bout that shit? Now we ain't gotta go no damn where," Daryl said, kissing her again.

"Except the kitchen…" Carol said. "The menus and the phone are in there."

"Fuck," Daryl said. "There's always some damn wrench in the plans, ain't there?"

Carol laughed and sat up, yawning.

"Really," she said. "As beautiful and wonderful as it sounds…we can't just stay in the bed all day. We've got to be mature, responsible adults. Besides, I put the chicken out to defrost before we even went to the doctor. We're having chicken tonight."

Daryl sat up then, looking at her, his hand going to her thigh and squeezing. She could tell that even though he was feeling more amorous than usual, there was something on his mind. Daryl was a man who wore a very clear expression…especially somewhere around his eyes…when the wheels were really turning about something.

"Something wrong?" Carol asked, tipping her head to the side.

Daryl squeezed her thigh again and narrowed his eyes a little.

"Hearin' the baby…" he said. Carol nodded, her stomach sinking a little at already wondering what in the world could be coming. She was beginning to feel like if people had super powers her ability was whatever cursed one allowed her to think of all the possible worst case scenarios in the shortest amount of time. "Well…" Daryl continued. "I was thinkin' that it's my kid an' all an' I want it ta have my name…I mean I don't think we should name it Daryl or nothin' 'cause I don't like that fuckin' Junior shit…but it oughta be a Dixon."

Carol realized she was holding her breath and she let it out, smiling. She put her hand over his and and squeezed it, her finger tracing for a second the small tattoo there.

"Of course I was going to give the baby your name…" Carol said. "It's your baby, Daryl. I would never try to deny that in any way."

Daryl bit his lip.

"I been thinkin' 'bout what Beth Greene said," Daryl said. "We could get married…I mean ya know what else we really gotta do when we married that we ain't doin' already?"

Carol felt her stomach churn. She had no reason to believe things would change if they got married…or when they got married…or whatever the case might be. Part of her, though, the nagging part, reminded her that things had gone to hell with Ed when they got married. It had been the beginning of a life that she never, ever wanted to live again. And beyond that she worried that getting married might somehow jeopardize the things with Ed that were happening right now. She didn't know how they could, but the knowledge that Philip Blake was around…that he was somehow trying to figure out how to get Ed forgiven for his sins by the court of law…they had her worried that even sneezing was going to be held against her.

"I don't…know if that would be the best idea," Carol started.

She didn't manage to get much farther in her formation of thoughts. Daryl's hand remained under hers less than a fraction of a second and he pulled it away. Carol looked at his face and before she could even move to say anything else, she realized that Daryl had taken her statement entirely differently than she'd wanted it to come out.

His face had gone from contemplative to stormy in a matter of a fraction of a second and he was already turning to get off of the bed.

"No! No…no…" Carol started, trying to figure out how to say anything to stop him from losing his temper. She reached out, wrapping her arms around Daryl's arm, but he yanked loose and went immediately to the dresser, beginning to dress in an angry hurry. "No! I didn't mean it like that!" Carol spat, crawling toward the foot of the bed nearest where he was.

"How'd ya fuckin' mean it?" Daryl spat at her, not bothering to keep his voice low in any way.

"I just meant…" Carol could barely form thoughts around her despair now that she was realizing what was happening to him…what she did. "I'm so sorry! I just mean that with Ed…"

Daryl, who was dressed now except for his socks and shoes, turned around quickly, white hot anger flashing behind his eyes that was driven on by hurt at her carelessness.

"Ed?! Damn in, Carol!" Daryl yelled. He leaned toward her, his face not far from hers and his finger between the two of them, pointing at her. "I ain't fuckin' Ed! I know he was a fuckin' asshole and I hope he's gettin' ass fucked on the hour every damn hour that he's in that fuckin' prison. I hope the fucker never gets outta that jail cell, but I ain't gon' live the rest a' my damn life bein' compared ta the son of a bitch when I ain't done shit ta deserve it! Fuck Ed!"

Carol felt tears welling up in her eyes. She tried to suck them back.

"I didn't mean…" she started.

"Do not fuckin' start cryin'!" Daryl spat. "Jesus with the fuckin' cryin'! Fuck that shit too!"

Daryl turned and stormed out of the room, his socks in his hand. Carol heard him slamming around in the kitchen and she got up, pulling her shirt over her head and starting after him. When she rushed into the kitchen his hand was on the door and he had his shoes in the other.

"Where are you going?" She asked, not able to keep the tears back even though she knew they were just making it worse.

"Don't worry about it," Daryl said. He yanked open the door and disappeared outside without another word. Carol rushed to the door but Daryl was all but running down the driveway.

Carol knew that she had to let him go. She had to let him calm down. She leaned her elbows on the bar and let the tears flow freely now. She had fucked this up. It had been her and only her that was to blame for the fact that Daryl had gone off halfcocked, feeling rejected or worse.

When she finally got control of herself, Carol circled around the kitchen nervously, trying to figure out what to do. She didn't really know where Daryl was going at all. He could be going almost anywhere. It was hard to tell with him. She didn't know how she could make this right, but somehow she knew she had to. She had to get him to understand that it didn't have anything to do with him…that she wasn't rejecting him.

Carol noticed that Daryl had knocked several things over on the counter, and one of those things was the cookie jar that Michonne and Andrea had written her name on. She walked over, sitting the thing upright and looked inside.

In his rush he'd taken the the time to scrawl "Ed" on the pad and to break the pencil in half. The entire pad and the broken pencil had been slammed into her jar. She was going to have to figure out how to make this right and she was going to have to figure out what to do about Ed…even though he was gone and out of sight, he was still trying to ruin her life…and unfortunately she felt at the moment that she was letting him do it.

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By the time that Andrea came walking through the door, Carol wasn't sure what to do. She'd tried calling Merle but there'd been no answer at the apartment. She didn't know if she should just start calling other people or if that was just going to cause trouble.

"What the hell happened?" Andrea asked, coming through the door and finding Carol sitting at the table, red eyed, the phone in hand and tissues littering the table.

"I don't know where Daryl is," Carol said.

Andrea furrowed her brow.

"Did you fight or something? What's wrong?" Andrea asked.

Carol had been crying since he'd left. She needed to tell him she was sorry and she needed to try to explain herself…try to excuse herself…really anything. What she wanted was to take it back, but she couldn't do that.

"I told him I didn't think marrying him was a good idea," Carol said.

Andrea looked at her with the same kind of shock that she might have used if Carol had just reached out and slapped her. Andrea moved toward the table, pulled out a chair, and sat.

"You did what?" Andrea asked.

Carol shook her head. The more she thought about it the worse it sounded and the worse it got. She hadn't thought about it…she hadn't thought through what she wanted to say or how she wanted to say it. Daryl was right. She was forcing him to live in Ed's shadow and that wasn't fair to him. She was holding crimes against him that he hadn't committed.

"I told him that I didn't think it was a good idea for us to get married," Carol sobbed. "I didn't mean it…he got mad and he left…he didn't even let me explain."

Andrea looked at her and scoffed.

"Jesus Carol! What did you expect to happen?" Andrea asked. Carol didn't know what she expected from Andrea, but it was perhaps a little more support than her current tone of voice was offering. "Did you think you were going to tell him that you didn't want to marry him and then he'd sit down and listen to some kind of story before he got his feelings hurt?"

Andrea stood up and paced a little around the table, tangling her fingers in her curls as though she were as agitated about this as Carol was.

"I know! OK! I know!" Carol said.

Andrea chuckled, but it wasn't a sincere chuckle.

"To Daryl?! You said to Daryl that you weren't going to marry him? What the fuck are you even thinking?" Andrea asked, no less agitated than she was before. "I go away for a couple of hours and you can't even fuck like a good couple…no…you save that shit for when I'm here. It's better to do shit like tell Daryl you're not going to marry him!"

Carol sobbed and wiped at her nose with the already spent tissue in her hand.

"I know! Damn it, Andrea! I know! I can't find him to tell him sorry…" Carol said.

"Why would you even do that, Carol? You know how Daryl is. Do you even know how much courage it probably took for him to ask you? Dixon men and marriage don't go together…not at all…he went out on a fucking limb and you sawed it right out from under him!" Andrea said, stopping across the table from Carol and putting her hands on it.

"I was thinking about all the shit…" Carol stopped to suck in some breath and try to calm the shaking of her voice. "I was thinking about everything with Ed…and I didn't…he was so mad…"

"Of course he was mad!" Andrea shot back. "What would you have done if it was you? You're playing house together. This whole damn day was supposed to be about you and Daryl and this kid you're supposed to be having together…why would you do something as stupid as telling him that you wouldn't marry him?"

Carol shook her head. She didn't have anything else to say. Daryl deserved to be mad at her. He deserved to be hurt and furious and anything else that he felt. Hell, even Andrea deserved to be mad at her. She was mad at herself so anyone else who wanted to join was welcome to it.

"I don't even know if he'd just mad about what I said…or if it's because I said it was because of Ed…" Carol said. "He left a note in the cookie jar…or he left the whole pad…it just said Ed."

"God, Ed!" Andrea responded. She sat down at the table. "Get out from under Ed, Carol. Let sleeping dogs lie. Leave Ed where the hell he belonged. If we all went through life dragging every asshole around behind us that had ever been in front of us we'd never get any damn where!"

Carol nodded her head a little.

"What do I do?" She asked. "I don't know where he is…"

Andrea sighed and growled all at the same time.

"Leave him alone…" Andrea said. "He left a note in the fucking jar…he's coming back and he apparently wants to talk about it. Leave him alone until he's ready to talk about it. You basically cut the man's dick off…let him have some time to deal with it."

"Why are you mad?" Carol asked.

Andrea shook her head and chuckled.

"I'm not mad…well I am mad…it's just that it's so damn infuriating!" Andrea responded. "I'm not going to lie. I really want to slap you right now."

Carol put her head in her hands, her elbows on the table.

"Go ahead, I deserve it…I didn't mean for this to happen. It didn't even come out like I wanted it to," Carol said.

"How did you possibly think that it could come out in a good way?" Andrea asked. "What were you hoping for?"

"I don't know…" Carol said. "I just didn't mean for it to happen like this, OK?"

Andrea sighed. She got up from the table and started into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Carol asked.

"I'm making coffee…" Andrea said. "Real coffee. It's going to be a long damn night and I doubt I'm getting any sleep either. All I can tell you is that you better go and find some knee pads or some shit somewhere because you're going to be doing an awful lot of groveling when his ass comes through that door…and I'm sorry and you know I love you…but you deserve every mile he makes you walk on your knees."

Carol groaned, the tears finally starting to subside.

"I know…I know I do. I just hope he lets me make it up to him…somehow…" Carol said.

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The time seemed to drag by. For Carol, there was no way to distract herself from its passing. If they'd intended to do anything to make it pass, they hadn't. She and Andrea sat at the table together. Andrea sat with a mug of coffee between her hands that she kept refilling. If it had been actually caffeinated instead of merely offering the illusion of coffee, then Carol suspected she'd be bouncing around like a rubber ball by now.

Carol was drinking hot tea like its so called herbal properties were going to be able to do anything about what she was feeling. There was still no word from Daryl and she was afraid to call anyone from fear of making it worse somehow.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, her phone rang. She answered it and listened a moment as the voice on the other line, a woman, asked for Andrea.

Carol sighed and handed the phone to Andrea.

"For you," she said.

She returned her head to her hands and ran her fingers through her hair again. She'd never get the knots out of her hair that she'd put there throughout the evening.

When Andrea switched off the phone and put it on the table, she stood up.

"Get your shoes, we've got to go pick Daryl up," Andrea said. Her voice was an odd calm that was peculiar for Andrea, even when nothing was going on.

"That was Daryl? Who was that?" Carol asked.

Adnrea started through the kitchen to get her shoes where she'd kicked them off earlier and put them up on the fireplace to keep Lincoln from getting them.

"Get your shoes," Andrea said. "Daryl apparently got drunk and thought it would be a good idea to take his truck off the road somewhere. He's at the hospital and we need to go pick him up."

Carol felt her stomach lurch and she barely made it into the bathroom before spilling all the liquid she'd been consuming in her waiting. When she gathered herself together, Andrea was standing at the door on one leg, pulling a shoe on.

"Come on," Andrea said, her voice still calm. "Don't freak out. Daryl's fine or else we wouldn't be going to pick him up. He's probably just banged up a little. He was at least in his mind enough to still be holding a grudge or he wouldn't have asked them to call me instead of you."

Carol's stomach flip flopped again to match the sinking of her heart. She deserved this. She just hoped he wasn't hurt too badly. She deserved, though, however cold he felt like being to her.

Carol washed her hands and mouth quickly in the sink, drying off with the hand towel. She went to the bedroom and slipped into a pair of shoes under Andrea's watchful eye. She followed Andrea, then, through the house. Their purses collected and the doors locked, she followed Andrea to the car, already trying to figure out exactly what she might say or day to make him forgive her and praying that whatever it was that had happened was minor enough that it wasn't any lasting reminder to him of the asshole that she'd been.