Chapter Sixty-Two

"Hey, hey, hey! There's no need for any of this right now … " Rick said, his calm tone meant to soothe when he felt anything but. He was worried about Carol and that array of weapons she kept on her belt at Daryl's insistence.

The tall Mexican sneered at Daryl before cutting his eyes over towards Rick, lifting the filthy hand which held the .38. "Cell block C, cell four … that's mine, gringo. Let me in."

Carol's hand trembled, forcing her to steady her grip and widen her stance. Her finger danced nervously along the side of the gun, itching to pull the trigger. Yet, she could feel Daryl slide against her side, never removing the tight grip he had on his own weapon. Instead of calling her down, he reassured with his warmth, trying to coax her back to him.

"And just why th' hell would we do that? You've been pardoned by th' state of Georgia. You're free t' go … don't let th' door hit y' on th' way out," the hunter snarled, his teeth grinding with the control he was exerting. His wife wasn't the only one with a twitchy finger.

"My block, my rules! I go where I damn well please, pendejo," the fool took another step forward and Daryl advanced until Rick stretched his arms out between them.

"Enough!" he bellowed, hoping he hadn't alarmed the others working so diligently on Cameron. "I don't give a damn who you are! You're not coming in here." He inched a little closer, getting in the inmate's face. "And I promise you, we've got enough to take care of the handful of you."

Tomas cast a side-eyed look at his companion and backed off a bit, a smirk curling his thin lips. "Easy there, ese," he said, tucking the gun into his waistband within easy reach. "Besides, nothing saying we can't share."

The hammer of T-Dog's pistol cocked as he stepped out of the shadows by the stairs. "Yeah … not happenin'. Y'all ain't coming in here."

Again, the pistol was in the inmate's hand. "Seems you have more than enough here," he drawled, knowing he'd have to keep an eye on the big man. He looked at each of them, knew Andrew was taking their measure as well. Rick appeared to be their leader, intent on keeping peace. Daryl and T were the muscle, but who did the woman belong to? She stood next to the redneck, probably owned him, nuts and all. Figures, he snorted. "And who's this mamacita? Looks like she's got fire."

"Don't y' fuckin' talk t' her!" Daryl yelled loud enough for the entire block to hear him, his face an angry mottled red.

Carol eased her finger back from the hair trigger, though she didn't lower her weapon, her husband's anger the only thing strong enough to pull her out of her own. She edged closer, her voice a deadly whisper, her fear evident, but her need to reassure him more prevalent. "Daryl."

He growled lowly and nodded for her to stay behind him instead of in full view of the inmates as she'd been before.

Tomas huffed a laugh, seeing just what made the redneck tick. "What's the matter, gringo? She your wife? Your woman? Ain't no reason we can't share, right? All that fire," he chuckled lasciviously. "End of the world, right? It's not like there's going to be a lot of opportunities for a hookup … just sayin'."

"Sonofabitch!"

"Daryl!" Rick bellowed, relaxing only when he saw Carol had the back of Daryl's shirt, begging him to keep a leash on his temper. He spun on his heel, facing the prisoners. "We're not going to have this bullshit with our people."

"Yeah, whatever. All I know is we ain't going back in that cafeteria. Ten long damn months were enough," the shorter African American man spoke up. "People dying, coming back as dead cannibals. Can't do that shit again, man."

Daryl's hands were nearly white-knuckled against the grip on his bow. "Let 'em take their chances out on th' road … we did! We took th' prison, we spilled blood, it's ours."

Rick shook his head. "It would be a death sentence and you know it." He turned back to the prisoners. "Alright, settle down, damnit. You got any food back in that cafeteria?"

Tomas shrugged. "Little bit."

"Here's the deal … half your food for our help clearing a block. No negotiation, no parlay, nothing, because you're not getting our block. You're gonna stay to your area and the first time I see you anywhere near the yard or our people … I'll kill you. Or let Daryl have you … whichever comes first."

"Deal," Tomas agreed grudgingly, seeing it was the best he was going to get until he could figure out what else to do.

"Mama?" Sophia asked, her hand inching towards her handgun as wide eyes searched out her mother She hadn't been expecting to come in for a few bottles of water and encounter these strangers.

Carl narrowed his eyes and pulled his gun, taking a step in front of Sophia. "Dad, who are they?"

Axel craned his neck to see the newcomers. "Damn, do y'all arm everybody?"

Carol looked fleetingly at her daughter before her gaze swung to the inmates. The one with death in his eyes, with murder and mayhem and lust as he'd looked at her … now gazed with the same malicious intent at Sophia. A tremor tripped up her spine, and in her mind, she could see every single time Ed had looked at her the same way.

The inmate's mouth curled into a sickening grin. "Who's this princesita? Yours? Maybe she'll be friendly where you won't –"

Bam!

"Carol!" Daryl caught her around the waist as she unloaded four slugs into the inmate's head. She didn't hear him, the .45 slipping numbly from her hand as she collapsed.

The children were running forward, T-Dog sprinting after Andrew as he headed back into the tombs before he could be shot too, preferring to take his chances with the walkers. The remaining inmates were ordered to their knees, the ginger begging pitifully for his life, but Daryl cursed and lifted Carol in his arms to take her to the perch. Carl was with his father, and Shane was within shouting distance. He wasn't abandoning them. If it were his decision, he'd finish the rest of them, eliminate the threat … whatever it took to keep his girls safe. Unfortunately, Rick was a bit less bloodthirsty and a lot more diplomatic.

*.*.*

Lori blanched, breaking off from the group who'd gathered outside the clinic awaiting word from Sprite and Hershel on Cameron's condition. Daryl hurried past her, his attention focused on the unconscious form of his wife safely nestled in his arms. He looked wild, feral, and more dangerous than she'd ever seen him. For a morning which had begun on a positive note, things had gone to hell mighty quickly. Now, one of their own had been bitten – losing his arm at the elbow in the process in an attempt to save his life – survivors had been found locked away in the cafeteria, and Carol had collapsed, Lori thought, fighting off a wave of panic.

She followed Sophia upstairs, making the landing in time to see Daryl lay Carol gently upon their makeshift pile of mattresses and blankets. Lori knelt down on the right, Daryl to the left, and reached for the yellow quilt. "What happened to her? Rick said survivors were found below. Did one of those animals attack her?" she asked, helping him spread the quilt over Carol's prone form.

"Nah … they never got near her," he replied absently, tucking the ends of the blanket around her shoulders. "I think it was jus' too much, an' she fainted or somethin'."

Sophia cradled her mother's head in her lap, her eyes glistening with tears as she searched Daryl's face for answers. "Daddy, who are those men? W-Why would she -" She couldn't continue, still in a state of shock to have witnessed her mother shoot someone in cold blood.

Daryl wrapped an arm around her thin shoulders and pulled her into his chest, offering silent support, unsure if he could find the words to explain away her mother's actions. "She was tryin' t' protect y', Soph."
Lori took Carol's hand in hers and patted it gently, her fingers coming to rest against the strong pulse in her wrist. "Daryl, why don't you start at the beginning, and tell us what the hell is going on? As much as we've all seen and done since this all started, I've never known Carol to faint."

He wanted to tell her to piss off, to leave him be with his wife and daughter, but he had to remember who Lori Grimes was. Who she was to his family … to his wife and daughter. She wasn't just a nosy busybody looking to insert herself into their business. She'd been the first person to extend a hand of friendship to Carol when they'd found the quarry, something she hadn't had in a long time because of Ed. Carol loved her like a sister, and despite his less than friendly feelings towards her most of the time, he was grateful to her for that, and couldn't just blow her off. Sophia's pleading gaze helped to make up his mind.

Daryl swiped a hand over his face, resigned. "Y' can imagine what it was like down there … cold, dark, scary horror movie, right? Now imagine it ten times worse. A herd trapped in a maze o' corridors. It didn't matter that we knew where we were goin', or how well we know how t' fight these things. We got cut off, got careless, an' Cam got bit before I could pull him back," he murmured, his voice thick with self-disgust.

"Daryl, Hershel's optimistic about his chances. Every one of you knew it was a risk to go down there. This is not your fault," Lori insisted, more than aware of the hunter's penchant for taking blame upon his own shoulders.

"If he survives, it's 'cause Rick didn't lose his head. Gotta give him that. We busted up into th' cafeteria, 'bout two dozen walkers on our ass, and Rick didn't hesitate. Him an' Shane laid Cam out on th' floor and hacked off his arm like it wasn't nothin'." He'd formed a new level of respect for the man, and he wasn't afraid to admit it. "Didn't expect to find survivors down there."

"How many?"

Daryl peeked at her from beneath his fringe of bangs. "Five."

"Are they going to be a problem?" Lori asked, sitting back on her knees, her fingers fidgeting nervously. She, for one, wasn't thrilled at the thought of strangers – convicts – walking amongst them, especially around the children.

"No. We ain't lettin' them nowhere near our group," he hissed, his gaze searching out his daughter's sweet face. "But two of them aren't gonna be a problem any longer."

"What? Why?"

"Because Mama shot one of them," Sophia said softly, ducking her head back onto her father's shoulder.

"Oh, god!"

"They followed us back up here. Their leader, stupid bastard, thought he was gonna come up here a take charge, push us all around. Pfft," he scoffed. "Didn't take him long t' see that shit wasn't happenin'. He pushed me, pushed Rick … hell, he even pissed off Dog." He glanced down at the angelic face of his sleeping wife and sighed. "I ain't never seen Carol react t' a stranger like that though. She'd barely set eyes on him before she was drawin' down on 'im. Not th' others … jus' him."

Lori's lips quirked up on one side. "Have you ever known anyone who can read people like Carol can? Something in his face must've set off some kind of inner alarm, some trigger, and she's just as protective of this group as you are, Dixon."

Daryl dropped his head to rest his cheek against Sophia's crown. He could still recall the way Carol had frozen at his side, a tremor in her hand and fear sparking beneath her skin. She'd been afraid of Tomas. He'd wanted to kill the fucker for the simple reason that he'd caused such fear in her. She'd just beat him to it.

"She was handlin' it. She was ok –"

"Until me and Carl came in from watch to grab a few bottles of water," Sophia said. "He looked at me funny and said something about wanting to know if I was going to be friendly, and …"

Lori gasped, finishing for the girl. "And Carol lost it."

Daryl dropped a kiss to Sophia's soft curls and set her away from him. "Baby girl, why don'tcha go get a wet cloth an' a bottle of water for your mama for when she wakes up, huh?"

Sophia smirked. "You want me to go so you can talk to Lori about grownup things, don't you?"

Daryl could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. "G'on an' jus' do as I ask … for once," he grumbled.

"Yes, Daddy. I'll be right back."

Sophia hurried past Rick who had silently crept up the steps while Daryl and Lori had been talking. "How is she?" he asked, dropping to one knee next to his wife. "She hasn't woken up yet?"

Lori shook her head, reaching out to him and letting his cool hand envelop hers. "She suffered a shock, Rick. It might take her some time to come out of it. Her mind has to come to grips with what she did."

Daryl glowered at her. "She didn't do anythin' wrong! She was protectin' our daughter."

"But she still took a life. She didn't put down a walker, Daryl … she took a human life," Lori said gently. "Carol is not a murderer and yes, she was defending her daughter, but it's still bound to affect her. She's never harmed anyone before, and it's going to prey on her conscience, but she's strong enough to handle this. She has all of us to help her. Just as we've all be helping Carl."

Rick dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes. "God, I hate what this world is turning us into."

"Yeah," Daryl spat bitterly, "but it ain't like we got a choice."

"Well, we've got another problem to worry about." At Daryl's narrow-eyed look, he elaborated. "Andrew … the inmate who ran off; he's missing. T said he chased him past the infirmary and out into the courtyard behind D block. Closed the door on him and left him out there, figured he'd let the walkers handle the problem, but when he and Shane went back to check, there were no remains. Shane thinks he might have slipped out the breach behind the prison."

Daryl shook his head, his mouth twisted into a thin leer of disgust. "Are y' fuckin' shittin' me, Grimes?! We ain't already got enough t' worry about? There's still the Marines to inform about what happened t' Cam, a block t' clear out for those inmates y' made a deal with, an' now we're gonna have t' post extra guards because one o' those assholes is on the loose prob'ly plottin' some kind o' revenge for what we did t' his friend!"

Lori shrugged her dark brows and sighed. "Another typical day at Chez Apocalypse."

"Not helpin', Olive Oyl," the hunter growled.

Rick regained his feet to be on an even playing field with Daryl who'd begun to pace restlessly next to the bed he shared with Carol. "The Marines are back. They're with Cam now. I've already explained what happened down in the tombs." He watched Daryl's shoulders slump dejectedly and he reached out a comforting hand to his friend. "They don't blame you, Daryl. They had a few close calls themselves while looting the infirmary. Jamie said he's just glad Cameron's going to pull through."

"Yeah, well they weren't there, were they? They didn't see what happened … they didn't see I couldn't get t' him in time."

Rick opened his mouth again to argue, but Lori shook her head. They both knew just how stubborn Daryl could be when he saw himself at fault, whether he was actually to blame or not. "Shane and Glenn are waiting with the inmates for us in the common room while T is out searching for Andrew. I need you on this, brother. The sooner we get them squared away in their own block, the sooner we can get those supplies squirrelled away up here."

He stared at Rick a long moment before glancing down at the prone form of his wife, torn between duty to his group and the desperate need he felt to be with Carol when she opened her eyes. "I cain't jus' leave her … what if … damnit, she's gonna need me!" he growled anxiously, running a hand over the back of his head.

"I need you, too, Daryl, and you know Lori won't leave her side. I would never drag you away from her if it wasn't important. We must get those men locked away from our group." He could see he was fighting a losing battle. "Would Carol want those convicts running loose in the block … overnight where our children sleep?"

Daryl's steely blue eyes pierced Rick with such a look of loathing, it brought new meaning to the phrase 'if looks could kill'. "You're a right foul asshole, y'know that, Rick?" The man nodded and hid a relieved sigh as the hunter turned to face Lori, pointing one long finger under her nose. "Y' don't leave her side, woman, y' hear? Not for a second."

Lori shot him a reassuring smile. "I promise, and if she doesn't wake soon, I'll have Hershel take a look at her. She's in good hands, I swear."

He hefted his crossbow and nodded, taking her at her word. Shit's gettin' deep around there, boy. Hope y' packed yer waders. Now was not the time to be hearing his brother's voice niggling at the back of his mind.

*.*.*

Alexandra startled and dropped her ladle as Daryl stormed into the common room, heavily slamming the barred door behind him. He hadn't meant to scare the girl, but the anger riding him like a demon wouldn't allow him to stop and apologize. It had taken hours to clear the corridors leading to D block, an unending stream of the undead around every corner. Hours he'd been forced to be away from his wife, and the anxiety beating along with his pulse beneath his skin had nearly consumed him.

The remaining inmates were fucking useless, much as the quarry group had been before Rick had asked him to train them, much like the Marines had been at first. But he hadn't been forced to train them with live walkers their first go, either. Oscar had shown promise, taking direction and listening to Daryl and Rick's instruction. Axel was a cowering pussbag! It had taken the threat of a bolt to his ass to get the ginger to find his balls and do as he'd been told. Big Tiny, however, had let his fear overcome him. It had caused him to become sloppy and let a walker get the drop on him. He'd been scratched just below his left shoulder, a deep gash which needed stitches, but what was the point in using up their precious medical supplies on a dead man?

Rick had tried to explain there was no hope for the man, no way to amputate where he'd been wounded. It was only a matter of time. Still, he'd hated the thought of having to put the man down and had sent Glenn to ask Hershel to have a look at him once D block was cleared. How many times had they all been covered in walker gore? Sophia liked to speculate over what really caused a person to turn, her love of science never waning despite her and Carl's lack of school lessons. They knew for certain a bite or natural death caused a person to turn, but they were unclear on scratches. The big man had been scratched with a bone from the forearm of the walker, leaving his fate uncertain.

When a walker fed, its hands were constantly shoveling flesh into its mouth, saliva coating its nails. Perhaps a scratch from its fingernails could cause infection where an exposed bone could not? Daryl shook his head. He could drive himself crazy pondering such things. Regardless, the inmates were on a death watch in D. He was likely to be sent over there to check on them and find all three of them turned. Good riddance! he snorted, making his way towards the stairs leading up to his perch.

Lori had remained true to her word, keeping a close eye on Carol and Sophia from where she sat at the top of the stairs. He reached out a hand to tip the bill of Carl's hat as he passed him on his way up. There was no reason to take out his anger on the boy … not today at least. The brunette rose to her feet when she heard him approach, hurrying down to meet him.

"How is she? She wake up?" he asked, worriedly. He didn't know what he'd do if she didn't come out of this fugue she was in. One look in Lori's anxious brown eyes had him pulling away, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

"Carol's awake, but she won't talk to anyone … not even Sophia. She simply sits there, holding onto her, but she won't say anything. Hershel says she's going to be fine, physically, but it may take more time for the mental scars to heal."

Daryl cursed under his breath. "This is why I shoulda been here instead of babysitting a bunch o' convicts!" he hissed furiously.

"She's strong, Daryl. It's something we might all be called to do before it's all over, taking a life. Right now, she's afraid, I think … afraid of how you're going to react to what she did. Talk to her."

He nodded and mumbled a thanks to her as Lori made her way downstairs to be with her own family, her gaze locked with Rick's as he entered the block. Daryl didn't wait around to watch her go, anxious to check on his wife. She laid upon their bed, Sophia curled up sound asleep at her side, Carol's fingers idly carding through the girl's soft golden locks. Her eyes were red and tear-stained, and he fretted over how pale she looked.

A small sob escaped her parted lips as she looked up to meet his gaze, her free hand reaching out to him. He dropped his crossbow next to the bed and sat heavily beside her, gathering her trembling frame into his arms. Sophia snuffled softly in her sleep and rolled over onto her other side without waking. Carol dissolved into tears as his hand cupped the back of her head and pressed it into the crook of his neck, offering her what comfort he could. "It's ok, baby, I'm here," he crooned softly.

Carol's arms wrapped tightly around him, her hands fisting into the back of his jacket. She shivered as she breathed him in, needing his warmth to chase away the chill in her bones. "I-I'm sorry," she whispered.

Daryl ran his calloused hand over her soft silver curls and shook his head. "Ain't nothin' t' be sorry for," he said, relieved she'd found her voice.

Carol pulled back far enough to stare incredulously into his eyes, taking note of the stubborn set of his jaw. "Daryl … I killed someone. You can't get much more wrong than that."

He gnawed anxiously at the inside of his lip, his tongue tied in knots as he fought for his words. "Y' didn't go out there and slaughter a fam'ly o' four at th' church social, Carol. This was a convict who was already in here servin' his time. Instead o' bein' grateful t' have been liberated from that cafeteria, he came up here tryin' his damnedest t' cause trouble. He coulda been in here for murder for all we know."

Daryl kicked off his boots and turned around to rest his back against the wall. Carol held her silence until he'd maneuvered her between his spread legs to lay across his chest, her head tucked beneath his chin. "It doesn't matter why he was in here, Daryl. I murdered someone in cold blood."

"Really?" he scoffed. "Cold blood? Looked t' me like y' did your fair share o' hesitating before y' pulled that trigger." His fingers kneaded the knot of tension along her nape, giving her time to heed his words. "Why don't y' tell me what set y' off about him in th' first place. I know y', woman, an' y' ain't th' type to act without havin' a reason."

Carol shuddered and burrowed deeper against his chest. Her hand reached behind her, seeking out her daughter, the bubble of panic easing behind her breastbone as she felt Sophia's solid warmth stretched out next to Daryl. "When I first saw that man … all I could see was Ed. The cold cruelty in his eyes reminded me of him and I drew my gun on instinct. I knew I needed to protect myself." She drew in a quavering breath and let it out slowly, refusing to let the cold fear which had gripped her take root once more. "I was ok after the shock wore off, Daryl. I could see you and Rick and T wouldn't allow him to harm any of us. Then …"

He tipped her chin up with a gentle finger, his gaze filled with barely controlled fury. "Then he said what he did t' Sophia."

Her fingers tightened, twisting fiercely in the worn fabric of his shirt. "I remembered the way Ed used to look at her, saw the way this man looked at her, and I couldn't allow it to happen again. I had to protect her, Daryl. The world is falling apart; there are no kindly police officers to call. There is no one but us. And now I'm a murderer. Rick's going to make us leave the group. I mean, how can he trust me after this?!" she hissed frantically.

Rick snorted from the top of the stairs. "Well, I came to check on you and tell you dinner was ready, but now it seems we might need to have a chat, hm?"

Carol ducked her head as she felt Daryl tense beneath her. "I … I'd understand if you wanted me to leave," she said in a small voice.

Rick knelt down beside the bed and took her hand in his, ignoring the venomous gaze Daryl shot him, daring him to upset her further. "Carol, don't you realize how important you are to this group? We love you. You keep us organized, fed, clean, and on top of all that, you're there to listen when any of us need counsel. You are the heart of this group."

Her heart swelled, and her eyes misted with fresh tears to hear him praise her in such a way. Even Daryl relaxed to see his friend acknowledge her role amongst them.

"If you hadn't taken action … it was just a matter of time until one of us ended Tomas. He was too set on taking the prison from us," Rick continued. "You did us a service, Carol. I know it's hard for you to think of taking a man's life, and we will all be here for you whenever you need us, but don't torture yourself over this."

Carol grunted as Daryl's arms tightened around her. "See, woman … knew he wasn't gonna ask y' t' leave. Lori would beat his ass."

Rick chuckled. "That she would." He slapped a hand to his thigh and pushed himself to his feet. "Now, y'all need to come downstairs and have some of that wonderful stew Alex has been making all afternoon. Today was a good day and we need to be thankful for it."

Daryl nudged Sophia awake and got her moving down the stairs with her mother before he fell into step beside Rick. "Did y' post extra watch duty for tonight? I don't like th' idea of that little shit, Andrew, runnin' free on th' grounds. Ain't no tellin' what he's gonna get up to."

"All three towers are manned come dark and a patrol on the fences."

Daryl nodded. He couldn't ask for more at the moment, but he wasn't going to rest easy until he knew the bastard was dead.

*.*.*

Daryl's eyes slowly fluttered open, narrowing slightly as he listened to his surroundings. Dawn's first light barely filtered through the barred windows overheard, making the silence of the cell block more reasonable to his sleep-addled mind. Having the warm presence of his wife in his bed was incentive enough to seek it out, but he was still the last to bed down at night and the first to rise every morning. He'd been this way even before the outbreak, a defense mechanism ingrained in him since he'd been a child against his father. Now, he had a group to protect, a family who needed him to be vigilant. And if he were honest, he couldn't rest well with that convict on the loose.

It had been two days since they'd found the inmates in the cafeteria, two days since Carol had taken a stand and ended Tomas, two days since Andrew had run off and disappeared. With the number of walkers still roaming the tombs and courtyards, there should have been no escape for the little man, yet they'd found hide nor hair of him. It wasn't as if they hadn't looked, either. He and Rick had mobilized everyone to take stints down in the tombs, clearing out as many walkers as possible. The bodies were piling up outside the fences, ready for burning – which would have to be done soon if they were going to ever get rid of the stench of death and decay. There was so much work still to be done, and he was constantly distracted, wondering when the little bastard would make his move. He'd known men like him before, and there was no doubt in his mind … they hadn't seen the last of him. It was just a matter of time.

At least the liberated inmates were sticking to their deal and remained confined to their own block. Hershel had begun the habit of checking on Big Tiny twice a day. The big man had a nasty infection from his wound, but he hadn't turned. Sophia had crowed proudly to everyone who would listen that her theory had been proven correct. Rick was pissed because Hershel was using up their limited supply of antibiotics to treat someone who wasn't a part of their group. Lori had scoffed at him, praying he would never get separated from the group, wounded and at the mercy of strangers … because karma was a fickle bitch.

"Stop thinking so hard," Carol whispered, pressing her cold nose against his throat and making him shiver. "It's too early."

Daryl snorted and pulled the quilt higher to tuck around her shoulder. He couldn't wait for warmer months when they wouldn't have to wear so many layers to bed. He could only be grateful for milder temperatures in southern Georgia compared to other parts of the country. He dropped a kiss to her soft silver curls and pressed himself flush to her. "Jus' got a lot on m' mind. Y' sleep ok?"

Carol hummed a soft reply, burrowing her hands beneath his shirt to press against the warmth of his chest. "Mmhm … I only got up once to check on Beth and Sophia. You know how our daughter likes to kick the covers off in the middle of the night and wake up freezing."

He lifted his head to peek into the cell across from the perch to see their girl wrapped up like a burrito on her bunk. "Told her she could sleep with us, but she wanted t' be in there with Beth. Them two are thick as thieves." He rolled over onto his side, taking her with him, his lips finding hers in a sweet nibbling kiss.

Thoughts of her daughter's sleeping habits fled her mind as his hot tongue darted past her lips to dance with hers. Her hands roamed over his heated flesh beneath his shirt, mapping out all the spots she knew fired his blood. It had been so long since she'd been able to touch him like this, something always getting in the way of them being together lately, and it was a little slice of heaven to have him in her arms. She curled her leg over his hip, giving him more room to settle into the cradle of her thighs, his arousal hot and hard against her core.

His kiss was frantic with need, deepening, consuming them both with wanton heat, and he lost himself to her. He thought back to their last night at the colonial, the last time they'd made love, when she'd had him nearly begging for her touch. What he wouldn't give to have that again.

Carol tensed as his hand trailed a path down her body to cup her mound through the yoga pants she'd worn to bed. "Daryl …" she hissed nervously, dragging her lips from his as her fingers curled over his wrist to pull him away. "Daryl, we can't … not here. Someone will see!"

Daryl grimaced, looking as if someone had taken away his favorite toy … on Christmas morning. Finally, he groaned and dropped his head to her shoulder. "But … but everyone's still asleep," he grumbled. If his blood wasn't so ablaze with desire, he would be able to see the logic in her statement. He was the last person who would want the others to happen upon them in the middle of sex.

Her fingers carded through his hair. "We don't need to stop, love."

His head shot up, a hopeful smile curling his mouth.

"We can just go find an empty cell where we could have a little privacy."

Daryl's face fell as a shudder rippled through him, and he flopped over onto his back, the mood gone. "No, I ain't makin' love t' my wife in a fuckin' cage," he hissed, averting his gaze from her probing eyes.

Carol bit her lip and watched him, propping herself up on her elbow. "Are you saying you aren't going to touch me the entirety of our stay here? Daryl, we don't know how long that's going to be."

"'Course not," he scoffed. "There's other places around here … jus' not in a fuckin' cell, Carol."

Her brow knitted into a puzzled frown. "It's not like the others haven't taken advantage of their cells – not from what I've been hearing at least. And I don't think anyone in this group is brave enough to try to lock us in while we're distracted."

"No," he hissed, adamant in his refusal.

"Why? I know you've never been to jail; Merle told me. Are you claustrophobic?" she asked, trying to make sense of his hatred of the cells. Thinking back, the only time she could remember him going into one was to pull the kids out, and then he'd been in high temper and not thinking of exactly where he was.

Daryl scrubbed his hand over his face and shot her a pained look. "Why cain't y' jus' let this go?"

Carol trailed her fingers gently over the side of his face. "Because I love you, and I don't want you to hide your fears from me." She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. "You don't let me hide from you."

"It's stupid."

She shook her head. "I'm sure it's not stupid. Are you afraid I'll laugh at you?"

He nodded. "Maybe … I don't know."

"Have I ever laughed at you before? Have I ever made you feel less than a man, Daryl?"

"No." He knew he was being silly, letting doubt cloud his judgment. Carol had never been anything but kind and sweet to him, listening with an open mind and compassionate heart. She would never laugh at him. "I know y' won't laugh, but I still feel stupid tellin' y' this."

Carol nestled into his side and rested her head against his shoulder, thinking perhaps if she weren't staring at him it would make it easier to talk to her.

Still, it took him several minutes to get his thoughts together. "I was about nine, I guess, when they built the new police station. The old one was decrepit as all hell an' falling down, so instead of repairing it, th' town council voted t' build a new one. O' course, Merle wanted t' get in there an' have a look around before they tore it down, see if there was anythin' left. Talked me into goin' with him." He paused, gnawing on the inside of his lip. "Thought it would be funny t' shut me up in one o' th' cells. Wasn't so amused when he couldn't find th' damn keys t' let me out. Left me there t' go get help. Jackson was pissed. Came down there, jimmied open th' cell … thought everythin' would be ok."

Carol's breathing hitched, almost afraid to hear what he'd say next.

"Nah … beat both our asses for bein' down there an' shoved Merle into th' cell with me. Left us there til th' next night before he fessed up t' Drew. Laughed about what he'd done t' us. Drew was fit t' be tied when he came t' let us out. Never thought Merle was gonna stop apologizin', but I made myself a promise if I ever got out, I wasn't goin' back in."

Carol brushed angrily at her tears. "It's not stupid, Daryl. You were a kid, and you deserved so much better. You must have been terrified, even with Merle there with you."

Daryl smirked bitterly and shrugged, brushing away the rest of her tears. "Jus' how my dad was. Sure he's roastin' in hell for bein' such a bastard. But that's why I don't want t' pick a cell for us. I'm sure once this place is cleared out, we'll find somewhere t' call our own. Th' perch'll do for now."

Carol groaned as she heard the alarm on Rick's watch sound downstairs, knowing it was time to start breakfast. She leaned in to kiss her husband before reaching for her boots. "No cell," she agreed. "We'll make do."

*.*.*

"We've all got work to do today, Daryl, and I can't do mine if you're hovering,"

He would not allow himself to believe those were the last words he'd ever hear from Carol's sweet lips. He couldn't, it would break him. Go to work, she'd said with a gentle nudge out the door. We'll be fine, she'd said. And thirty minutes later, all hell had broken loose. He, Glenn and Rick had been gathering firewood, preparing to burn the walkers they'd dumped beyond the fences. Jamie had urged Cameron from his sickbed out into the courtyard for some fresh air – which would do him some good, Daryl had to admit. The kids milled around the picnic table, cleaning weapons and laughing amongst themselves, something rarely heard in such trying times. Lori and Carol sat with them, sorting and mending clean laundry. It should have been a good day.

Carl's shout, alerting them of walkers loose in the courtyard, had taken them all by surprise. He barely remembered Rick's cry to Lori to get the kids inside, nor their mad sprint along the dog run to get back to help them. It was all a blur. When they'd finally gotten there, the alarms were blaring, Rick glaring daggers at Axel and Oscar who'd come out of their block to see what was going on. Their people had been driven further into the prison, and it was Rick's responsibility to get the generators shut down before the main gate somehow opened and let in more walkers. Chaos!

Daryl mentally shook himself as he looked down at Andrew's body, spitting on him for good measure. For a minute there, he'd been afraid Oscar would shoot Rick with his own gun, but at the last second, he'd turned it on the convict who'd caused so much trouble. There was no way he'd be able to turn them out now.

Daryl grabbed Rick by the back of his collar and shoved him towards the door. "C'mon, man, we've got t' find th' others," he yelled, hoping he had the sense to keep up.

"Daryl, slow down … you're going to run right into a pack of walkers at this rate."

The hunter looked back to find Oscar covering their six and his estimation of the man rose several degrees. "Don't care. We need t' find our wives, our kids," he panted, taking a corner and nearly running into Glenn and Axel.

"Glenn!" Rick rushed forward and reached out a hand to his shoulder. "Have you seen any of the others?"

"No, it's clear this way," he replied, trying to get a handle on his own panic with Maggie missing.

"There," Daryl pointed to a door opening at the end of the hall which led to the outside. "Shane! Fuck … he's got Lori." And he didn't look to be moving all too steadily, not like he knew the man to move. The kids were holding the door open for him, and Randall looked as if he were helping to support him.

"LORI!" Her name tore from Rick's throat as he darted down the hall towards his family, Daryl and the others hurrying behind him. Rick burst through the door and took Lori from Shane in time to see his best friend collapse to his knees, his chest heaving. "What happened?"

Carl laid a hand on his father's arm, drawing his attention. "She's ok, dad. We had to hide out in the boiler room and Mom whacked her head on a pipe. Knocked herself out."

Glenn rushed over to Maggie, enveloping her in his arms as he checked her over for injury. "Randall and I were carrying her out of there when Shane found us," she explained to them.

"Rick …" Shane rasped. "Andrea … we got swarmed. I-I'm sorry, brother."

A choked sob broke free from Rick, despite the hand which rose to cover his mouth with he saw the gaping bite wound in Shane's side. "No …. " He brushed the tears away from his friend's dark eyes. "No … "

"Hey, don't. Don't do this to yourself, Rick. We knew it was gonna happen sooner or later. Just … just don't let me turn." He swallowed thickly against the emotion clogging his throat. "Take care of Lori and the kids."

"You know I will. Shane …"

Sophia ran the distance between them and tackled Daryl around his waist. "Daddy! Thank god, you're safe," she sobbed, burying her face against his chest. "Did you see Mama? We can't find her."

"What?" he asked, a loud ringing beginning in his ears. "She didn't come back? Who was she with?"

Sophia stared up at him with wide eyes as he gripped her upper arms. "With T and 'Tricia … and I think Tori."

Hershel finished doing a head count. "Everyone else is here Daryl, except for the four missing. Someone is going to have to bring Andrea's body from the tombs as well. We can't leave her down there."

The side door opened, and a tear-streaked Patricia, her clothes covered in blood, stumbled out into the sunlight to fall into Beth's arms. Sprite knelt beside her, checking her for injury. "I-It's not mine. Theodore … he's gone. He sacrificed himself to save us."

Daryl whipped his head around so fast, the bones in his neck cracked. "Us who? Carol? Where is she?"

Patricia tried to make herself understood through her sobs. "S-She was with Tori when we got separated. I don't know which way she went, Daryl. I'm sorry. I barely made it out myself. There were so many … I don't think they made it."

"NO! NO!" he wailed, willing his limbs not to succumb to the numbness threatening. He couldn't believe his Carol, his wife … no, he couldn't even think it.

"Daddy … where are you going?" Sophia called after him brokenly as he stormed across the courtyard, heading towards the door Patricia had just come through.

Daryl made himself stop and crouched down before his daughter, his hands cradling her precious face in his palms, his thumbs tracing muddy tracks through her tears. "Need y' t' stay here, baby girl, with Rick and Lori … and Carl. Stick close t' Carl, he'll keep y' safe 'til I get back."

Her eyes widened, fresh tears falling from her lashes. She knew he had to have been just as frightened for her mother as she was if he was asking her to stick close to Carl. "Daddy …"

Daryl pressed his lips to her brow and hugged her fiercely. "I'll bring her back, sweetheart. Trust me."

"Make sure you come back too." She threw her arms around his neck and wept against his throat. "Please, Daddy … I need you."

"Daryl!" Rick called after him.

The hunter hefted his crossbow over his shoulder and ignored Rick. Unmindful of the tears streaming over his dirty features, his eyes bloodshot and filled with a darkness no one in the group had ever witnessed, he paused with his hand on the door. His light was missing, and it was by pure strength of will he remained standing. "I'm going to find my wife."

A/n: Yes, I'm evil. Please review!