Chapter Sixty-Four

His hawk-like gaze scanned the room quickly, darting to every crack and crevice as he held the flashlight in one hand and his knife poised and ready in the other. If he wasn't so well-versed in the symptoms of a panic attack, he'd swear his heart was failing him. It only increased as he fell to his knees next to his unconscious wife. "Carol!" He jerked his head back towards the door, his eyes never leaving her. "Rick! Jamie! She's here!"

Daryl had briefly glimpsed Tori's lifeless body lying on the bench spanning the wall. He'd barely given her a thought when he'd seen Carol, and even now he couldn't bring himself to care for the sergeant's agonized cry as the Marine dropped next to her.

His fingers gently lifted her chin as her eyes fluttered up to meet his. She dragged in a tortured breath and flung herself at him, her nails digging into his chest. Tears spilled over her long lashes and a deep heaving sob tore from her throat. "D-Daryl!" she hiccupped, taking too much air into her lungs.

Rick, coming to kneel at her other side, reached out a soft hand to lay atop her head. "Is she alright? Is she bitten?" he asked, his worry showing through. The last thing he wanted was to have to tell Lori and Carl something had happened to her, and he knew Daryl and Sophia would never recover from her loss.

His hands did a thorough sweep, finding nothing to set off alarm bells in his head. The blood on his wife's clothes clearly didn't belong to her. Daryl finally tore his gaze from her, the feeling of her in his arms again going a long way towards soothing him. He looked up at Rick. "She's claustrophobic, remember?"

"No, I'd forgotten … maybe you should get her out of here?" he suggested, feeling a bit boxed in himself, but Daryl was off again in his own little world now that it had been righted on its axis once more. Rick left them, stepping out of the cell as the sergeant lifted his fallen friend and carried her body out.

"I'm …" the Marine paused, lowering his head briefly, fighting with his emotions. "I'm going to take her up … to her family. Tessa and Sprite –"

Rick nodded in understanding. "It's going to be rough with all the people we've lost. We need time to mourn, time to heal. This group is strong, Jamie … we'll pull through this together."

Jamie glanced back towards the solitary cell where Carol was still clinging to her husband. "Do you think she'll be able to talk about what happened? The sisters are going to want to know what went on down here. They'll need it for closure."

"We won't know until Daryl can get her upstairs and settled down. But you know Carol isn't one to keep things like that to herself. If it affects a member of our family, or the group as a whole, she'll be forthcoming," Rick assured him.

The sergeant turned, cradling the body of his fallen leader, the wife of his dearest friend, and straightened his shoulders, resigned to the task ahead. One he was far from looking forward to. Rick watched him go before making his way to the end of the corridor to search for more walkers. If the blueprints were correct, there should be a cell door to the left he could lock to prevent more from wandering in.

Daryl buried his face in Carol's soft curls as she clung to him. He'd been surprised when she'd practically ripped his flashlight from his hand, but the meager light had seemed to calm her. He knew how difficult it had to be for her to have been locked away in the dark. "Shh, baby … I'm here. I got y'."

"I-I knew y-you'd find me," she breathed, taking comfort in his warm embrace and the musky scent of the outdoors which always lingered about him.

He gnawed at his lip as he leaned back to meet her gaze, feeling guilty. "I was so scared I wouldn't," he admitted, averting his gaze. "Wasn't like when I was lookin' for our girl back on Hershel's farm. I knew what I was doin' then, but this time … "

Carol trailed her fingers along his jaw, her eyes filled with understanding. "There were so many walkers, Daryl. Everything was in chaos. You thought I died."

He broke down, her arms wrapping around him as he wept. "It hurt so badly. I couldn't think or breathe. Felt like I was bein' eaten alive from th' inside. I need y', woman … so much! This fam'ly don't work without you." He curled up there with her on the floor, his face buried against the crook of her neck, unable to handle the relief of finding her alive or the wealth of love making his heart pound erratically. He'd never dealt well with his feelings and now was no different. Nearly having lost her seemed to just make it worse. He was supposed to be comforting her, and here he was an absolute mess.

"Sophia … is she safe?" she asked, carding her fingers through his hair in a soothing rhythm.

Daryl swiped a hand across his eyes, ridding himself of the moisture left by his tears before nodding. "Yeah, she's with Carl. They're holdin' each other together right now. She never lost faith I'd bring y' back. She's strong, our daughter," he grinned a little crookedly.

She nestled back into his arms, needing his strength now that it had been restored. "Lori? Rick? Are they alright? Why would Carl need to be holding himself together?"

Daryl pulled her onto his lap, unable to get close enough. "We lost Shane … Andrea and T-Dog too."

Carol's face fell, her features awash with fresh pain, and tears slipped unabashedly over her lashes. She wept silently, giving herself a moment to grieve in her husband's arms there in a solitary cell in the bowels of the prison. It was how Rick found them when he peeked in to check on them.

"I hate to interrupt, but … Daryl, we really need to get her topside so Hershel can have a look at her," he said, his lips curled into a half moon smile for his friends.

Carol squawked in indignation as Daryl rose with her in his arms. "I'm fine! I think I can manage to walk the few hallways back to the common room," she protested.

Daryl huffed and shot her a side-eyed look, daring her to argue. "Y' almost died, woman. If I want t' carry y' all th' way back t' Atlanta, I damn sure oughta be free t' do it!" he growled.

"I did not! You're just going to hurt your back."

He arched a brow and shifted her more securely in his arms. "Pfft! Y' don't weigh nothin'," he scoffed.

Yet, she didn't miss the anguish still lingering in his smoky blue gaze. She then realized how important it was for him to do this and she relaxed, curling her arms around his neck. She wouldn't deny him the comfort this small task would bring him.

Rick hid a grin and hefted Daryl's crossbow from where it had fallen to the floor in the cell, following silently after them, on guard for any dangers which might fall into their path.

*.*.*

Earlier …

It was bitterly cold in the cell, a chill creeping into her bones. The thin cardigan she wore over her tank and flannel button-up did little to keep her warm. She felt as if her blood had turned to ice, and with it came the tremors where she wondered if they would make her splinter apart. Carol tried not to think of it, but it was rather hard when she had nothing but a flickering light to preserve her sanity. The first had died what seemed a lifetime ago, and the second was well on its way to joining it.

What would she do then? How would she keep the panic from overwhelming her fragile state? How would she fight the fear? Tori slept restlessly, the virus coursing through her along its sinister path of destruction. How much longer would she be able to resist death's loving embrace? It would take her friend, and she'd be left with a monster in her stead.

It would be Carol's duty to assure Tori wouldn't come back as one of those things, a ravenous corpse set on a course to feed from the living … from her. She angrily seethed at the flashlight, shaking it viciously. A desperate cry tore from her throat as Tori grabbed her hand, seeking to comfort Carol in the woman's final moments.

"It's ok. You can do this, y'know." Tori's voice was ragged as she fought for each breath, her grip on her friend so light Carol could barely feel it. "You're so strong, Carol." Her eyes were twin slits of pain, her tongue darting out to wet her dry, cracked lips. "Just remember what I said, yeah? Tell my men to keep fighting … to protect the girls. Tessa … Sprite … tell them not to mourn. Tell them … tell them to remember how much I loved their brother … and how I finally get to be with him again now. Tell them how blessed I was to have them in my life … all of them."

Carol's lip trembled, tears sneaking their way over her lashes to spill onto her ashen cheeks as she held tightly to Tori's cold hand. "I will. Shh … try not to worry over them. They will have a place with us as long as they wish."

"I-I know you would never abandon them. Not with your kind and compassionate heart," she laughed breathily, the light beginning to fade from her hazel eyes. They closed, and a soft smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "I have to go now, C-Carol. He's w-waiting … for … for … me …" The breath sighed from her body, her hand falling slack against the bench, releasing Carol's fingers which she'd been holding.

The pawing and scratching of the walkers at the door increased as Carol's sobs filtered out to them. And now she was trapped in the dark cell with the body of her friend … a body which could re-animate at any moment. She'd never been called upon to put down someone close to her, and she wondered if she possessed the fortitude and strength to do it. If she couldn't find the courage, her husband would eventually find her own walker, and Carol couldn't bear to cause him such pain … not if she could prevent it.

It was then, when she needed him so much, she could hear his gentle southern growl whisper through her mind as soft as a butterfly's wings. Y' can do this, baby. She wouldn't've left y' t' turn. I'm comin', sweetheart. I love you. I need y' t' be ok when I find y'. Please … Be strong, Carol. For me … for Soph. Please … I'm comin' t' bring y' home. Jus' wait for me a little longer.

Carol brushed her tears away and reached down into her boot, withdrawing the small knife Daryl had given her to hide there. It was small, almost delicate, but sharp and deadly. Merle had laughed when Daryl had presented it to her, still in the box, calling it a 'chick' knife. Yet, she'd happily accepted it along with the slim sheath which fit nearly unnoticeable inside her boot. She'd never even had the opportunity to use it before, always relying on her larger hunting knife. It was a tragedy to think she'd have to use it on someone she cared about.

She pressed a kiss to Tori's brow, unable to look as she slid the blade into the base of her skull. It was little comfort to know she was doing the woman a kindness. Carol pulled her jacket which she'd laid over her friend back over her shoulders and moved closer to the door, wrapping her arms around herself and huddling against the wall. The flashlight flickered for the last time, plunging her into the oppressive pitch darkness. Her breath hitched, the nightmares of her past encroaching upon her, the skeletal arms of her ghosts sneaking through the abyss to claw at the edges of her mind.

Carol could feel herself hyperventilating, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her light was gone, stripping away the last of her control over her fears. Daryl wasn't there to save her this time, to whisper sweet assurances against the shell of her ear, to hold her until the panic went away. There was nothing but darkness, the blessed relief of unconsciousness … and her waning hope.

Now …

The three of them made their way cautiously down the corridor towards C block, Rick to Daryl's right. The hunter still cradled his wife carefully in his arms, her head nestled against his shoulder as she relayed her tale from the time she and Tori had been separated from T and Patricia, to the moment Daryl had found her. "I'm sorry … I screwed up. If I hadn't let Tori drag me away, maybe she would still be alive. I left Patricia and T … how could I do that?"

Daryl shook his head. "Ain't none o' that your fault. Y' did jus' like I taught y', an' kept your ass alive 'til I could find y'," he murmured gruffly, his emotions still raw and too close to the surface.

"He's right, Carol. You can't be held responsible for everyone in the group. We have to work together to keep one another safe," Rick added.

"I want to be stronger," she insisted.

"We'll talk about it when you've recovered," Daryl said, his tone brooking no objection. "That's all y' got t' be concerned about right now."

Rick lengthened his stride, moving several paces ahead, sensing an argument in the air. And if it was one thing he'd learned, it was not to find oneself in the middle of a Dixon family squabble.

"When?" she persisted, tilting his chin up to meet her gaze. "I'm serious, Daryl. When do we get to fully recover? From our losses, our injuries, some new threat which will always be out there? When will you have time to help me be a better fighter?"

He huffed in exasperation. "Y' fought well enough t' keep your ass alive, woman! It'll do for now." He leaned in, pressing his brow to hers and sighed. "Please, cain't we jus' be happy we're together? In a minute, we'll be back at th' block an' y' can see our girl. I don't want us t' fight." He stopped in the middle of the corridor and caught her lips in a gentle kiss. "I ain't lettin' y' out o' my sight, Carol … not again. Let me … jus' let me protect y' for now."

Her fingers twisted in the ends of his shaggy hair, her gaze softening with love for him as he began moving again. "I don't want to be far from your side, but I want to do my share in protecting our family." She could understand his doubts and fears, the need to be close to her after thinking he'd almost lost her. She understood because she felt the same. It had been so terrifying, fighting her way through the tombs and not knowing what was happening to her husband and daughter, or if they were safe.

Fierce pride was evident in his darkening cobalt gaze as he nodded jerkily. "Y' already do. You're strong and brave, my warrior wife … an' mine. Don't let nobody tell y' any different."

*.*.*

At Rick's urging, Daryl followed him through the cell door at the back of C block. He was happy to avoid the common room and everyone coming and going from the clinic cell. He could take the rear stairs up to the perch and not have to stop every few steps to answer questions from their family. Rick left them alone as Daryl laid Carol gently upon their bed, promising to send Sophia up to them, and see if he couldn't find Lori to tell her the good news of her friend's return.

"Soon as Soph gets up here, I'll go an' ask Hershel if he'll come up t' have a look at y'. Make sure y' really a'right," he growled lowly, handing her a water bottle where he kept a few at the edge of the bed near their packs. "Drink it all … prob'ly dehydrated as long as y' were down there."

Carol shot him a pensive stare over the bottle she was guzzling. "I'm fine, Daryl. I was only gone about twelve hours or so. Not enough time to send my body into a state of disrepair," she snarked. "It's late anyway. Can't we wait until morning? I don't want to disturb him after the horrible day we've all had."

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head before leaning in to press a kiss to her brow. "Stop bein' so stubborn, an' let me take care of y'." She shivered, and he pulled her closer. "Wanna make sure being exposed t' th' cold didn't affect y' either."

Carol nodded and pressed her cold nose into the crook of his neck. "It's positively frigid down there. I can't wait until spring gets here and it starts to warm up. This place is like a mausoleum," she grumbled. She'd never liked the cold before the turn, and now with the lack of viable heat sources, she liked it even less.

Daryl rubbed his hands briskly over her back, hoping to generate some heat through the layers she wore. "It'll be here before y' know it, an' then you'll be complainin' about it bein' too hot," he chuckled. "But I'm gonna talk t' Rick about makin' a run. Maybe we can find a place with some kerosene heaters."

"Mama!" Sophia's cry and the thundering of feet was the only warning Daryl received, giving him but a moment to move out of the way before their daughter was throwing herself at Carol. Carl beamed happily at Daryl as he dropped down next to them, relief evident on his face. Happy tears streamed over Sophia's face as she wrapped her arms around her mother. "Oh, Mama, I was so scared," she wept.

Carol shushed her softly, clinging to her just as tightly. Her eyes met Carl's over Sophia's shoulder and she swept out her arm, beckoning him closer. He didn't hesitate to find his way into her embrace and bury his face in the crook of her neck. "Are you ok, Carol? We were going crazy up here worrying about you."

"We lost people, Mama."

"Shane and Andrea and T-Dog," Carl added for clarification, sadness leaching from his every pore. "And Tori. Her people are taking it hard."

"When you didn't come back, Daddy went kinda nuts."

Carol pressed a kiss to her daughter's cheek as her gaze found her husband's … along with the fiery blush tinting his handsome face. "I can imagine."

"You were missing for so long." Carl turned to his accusing stare on Daryl. "What took you so long?"

Sophia stifled a hysterical giggle as her father arched a brow at the boy. "Oh, you know … had t' stop for lunch an' then run over for m' four o'clock nail appointment," he snarked before shoving Carl gently in the shoulder. "What th' hell, boy! Had t' fight m' way through a herd o' walkers t' get t' her."

"I knew he would find you," Sophia said adamantly, settling in at her mother's side. "Daddy's not one to give up."

Daryl glanced up at Lori and Rick as they came to stand at the top of the stairs. Lori gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, her face alight with happiness at seeing Carol alive and well. Carl made a place for her on the bed and the brunette quickly sat down and hugged her friend. "I am so glad to see you."

Rick knelt down beside the hunter. "Hershel said he'd give us a few minutes before he came up to check on her. Tessa isn't taking Tori's death too well and he had to sedate her."

"Thanks … for askin' him, I mean," Daryl mumbled wearily, the day catching up to him quickly. He was also glad he wouldn't have to fetch the man himself, not wanting to leave Carol's side now that she was back where she belonged. He had a feeling it would be a good while before he was comfortable having her out of his sight … if ever.

He listened with only half an ear to his wife as she filled Lori in on what had happened down in the tombs. Instead, he focused on the plans Rick had for the next several days.

"Oscar and Axel dug the graves with Glenn's supervision. I still don't trust them, but they proved they're not out to murder us in our sleep. After trying to kick them out, I was surprised by their willingness to come to our aid," Rick said, leaning back against the railing next to Daryl.

The hunter nodded, his brow furrowing as he watched the women talk quietly. Carol might insist she was fine, but he could see the strain her experience had put on her. "Oscar seems like an ok guy … but Axel is a shifty little bastard. I'm gonna keep m' eye on that one." He shifted his gaze to Rick and gave him a pointed look. "So, y' gonna let 'em stay now?"

"I don't know. We need to put it before the council and vote. We also need to elect someone to … to take Shane's place as our third." Rick lowered his head and pinched his brow, needing a minute.

"It's gonna be hard gettin' used t' him bein' gone. He founded this group," Daryl grunted, thinking of all the former deputy had done for the group at the quarry. He would be the first to admit Shane hadn't been his favorite person. In the early days of the quarry, he'd wanted to beat Shane half to death for his lack of spine and poor decisions – especially his flat-out refusal to go after Merle when he'd been left on that rooftop in Atlanta – but he knew the man was doing the best he could in an untenable situation. "I think Jamie should be our choice. Tori's people are going t' look t' him for leadership now, an' it would be good t' have someone represent them on th' council. We need that balance."

Rick trusted Daryl, and could see his logic. "We'll have to schedule a council meeting, but not tomorrow. Tomorrow we need to hold a memorial service for our fallen and take the day to mourn, to heal."

"We need t' get th' rest o' those bodies out of th' tombs an' burn 'em. There's also that breach along th' back fence needs repairin'. We got it sealed off from th' inside now, but there's still a chance o' more gettin' in. I don't want t' take a risk o' someone else gettin' hurt," Daryl growled.

Rick huffed a sigh and swiped a hand over his face. "We're going to have to use what we can find here around the prison. After what happened today, I don't think anyone is in the right frame of mind to go on a run for building materials."

"Need t' find some heaters, too. Otherwise, we're going t' wake up one mornin' t' find a bunch o' popsicles."

Daryl glanced up as Hershel made his way up the stairs to the perch, feeling some of his anxiety melting away to know the man was there to see to Carol. She beamed up at the vet turned doctor.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," Hershel said softly, his smile genuine and warm. "Especially with so much loss today."

"I tried to tell Daryl I was fine," she murmured, her tone quiet so as not to disturb those in mourning or already asleep. "He just fails to listen to me at times. Stubborn, you know."

Daryl snorted. "Yeah, an' m' wife likes t' take care of everyone but herself."

"He's got you there, Carol," Lori chuckled.

"Fine," Carol grumbled with a roll of her eyes, ready to get her checkup over and done.

Lori ushered Carl and Rick to her and pointed them in the direction of the stairs. "Well, we'll leave you now to get some rest. If you need anything, you just let us know," she offered with one last hug for her friend. "I mean it. And don't even think of getting up early in the morning for chores. Rick is suspending everything to give us time to grieve."

Sophia gave Carl a little wave before she settled in sitting cross-legged next to her mother. She eyed Hershel worriedly as he set his bag on the bed and rummaged in it for his stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. "You think Mama's going to be alright?"

"Not to worry, sweetheart. Your mother is one of the toughest ladies I know. I'm just going to give her a little checkup," he soothed.

Daryl fidgeted at the foot of the bed, his eyes taking in everything Hershel was doing. He wanted nothing more than for the man to give her a clean bill of health. He wanted to curl up with his girls and get some much-needed sleep. Though how he was going to do that after the day he'd had, he didn't know.

By the time Hershel was done with Carol, Daryl was ready to crawl out of his skin. The doctor's smile didn't even come close to putting him at ease. "You're a little dehydrated, but nothing serious. Everything else seems fine and your vitals are normal. Even prolonged exposure to the cold didn't affect you poorly."

"She was unconscious when I found her! How is that normal?" Daryl growled impatiently.

"From what Carol tells me of her bouts with claustrophobia in the past, this isn't the first time it's happened," Hershel explained. "It is her mind's defense mechanism, a way of protecting her body. It will, no doubt, continue to happen until she learns to overcome her fear of small spaces. I'm recommending rest … two days minimum."

Daryl crossed his arms over his chest, nodding. "I'll make sure of it."

"That goes for you as well, Dixon," Hershel said with a pointed look at the hunter.

Sophia laughed and laid down next to her mother, snuggling into her when Carol's arms came around her. "Yeah, like that's gonna happen."

*.*.*

Daryl crossed his arms over his chest as he stood at the gravesite flanked by his wife and daughter. The morning had been difficult for everyone. Breakfast had consisted of protein shakes or cereal bars, no one having much of an appetite. He'd wanted to wrestle Sophia for the last pack of cinnamon pop tarts she'd had hidden in her bag. Thankfully, she loved him, and – after she'd gotten a good chuckle from his petulant expression – had been willing to share. He'd been all for spending the day in bed with Carol, but she was adamant about attending the memorial service.

Hershel wanted her to rest. She should remain in bed … yet, when did she ever listen? And carrying her out to the part of the field they'd converted into a graveyard was simply out of the question. Carol had narrowed those icy blue eyes of hers and planted her hands on her hips, daring him to argue with her. He was not allowed to treat her like an invalid. She'd had enough of his coddling when she'd been injured at the spa.

Carol loved him. He'd known her long enough to be certain, for not a day passed where she didn't show him. Why couldn't he be a little overprotective? She was his wife … his wife for fuck's sake! The only Dixon to have ever found true happiness before him had been his uncle Drew. Now if he could just cling to his own … somehow.

His gaze shifted along the fence line, the few walkers gathered there were mere background noise as his family assembled around the gravesite. It was a noise they were used to, and it didn't detract from the somber atmosphere. Brian held tightly to Tessa on his left, her eyes red rimmed from weeping. Sprite held her around the waist, offering her sister support. The Marines and their partners stood stoically, silently, huddled together in a close-knit unit. Rick and Lori stood on Carol's other side, Carl squashed between them as if they were afraid the boy would run off. He'd sat with Sophia for a long time that morning, his fingers twined with hers, his head resting against her shoulder. Daryl hadn't had the heart to break apart their embrace. It surprised him that he hadn't wanted to. In truth, he wished he'd had a friend like Sophia when his mother had died. Someone to offer him silent comfort when his heart had been splintering apart.

Daryl tried to tune out the wailing sound of Beth's hymn as she sang plaintively, focusing on those who laid below the earth in their cold graves. His friends if he could be so bold as to call them that. T-Dog who had left his brother on a roof because of a dropped handcuff key had become a jovial companion on watch, someone who could coax a wry laugh out of Daryl even when it was the furthest thing from his mind. Andrea with her teasing, always a mischievous glint in her eye when she caught him staring at his wife. She'd been a good friend to Carol, and he would be forever grateful to her. Shane … what a prick! he snorted internally. His head lowered just a bit more, his chin resting against his chest. He knew he shouldn't think ill of the dead, but he just couldn't bring himself to like the man. The man's only saving grace was his steadfast duty to help protect the group. And Tori … he'd liked her. She was a lot like Carol in many ways; kind, compassionate and giving. She hadn't let this world bring her down even after the loss of her husband, and he admired her for her resilience.

He shifted anxiously on the balls of his feet. The constant weeping from the women was getting to him, and he wanted nothing more than to flee. Hershel was making his way into the space between the four graves, two on either side of him, and that just made it worse. He didn't want to hear the man speak of their lost loved ones. He didn't want to say goodbye. It was a fact of life in their world now, one he accepted, but it was only making him think of how close he'd come to losing Carol.

As if sensing his restless unease, Carol gently pulled his arm from where it was crossed over his chest and draped it over her shoulder, pressing herself tightly against his side. Of course, she would know how difficult this would be for him. He would never be comfortable in a situation where his emotions might be loosed, and others would see. Show no weakness, boy! Yer a Dixon an' we ain't weak! Suck it up! He closed his eyes, shutting out his father's loathsome voice, and buried his face in Carol's soft curls. He could do this … he had no choice. He had to be strong for his girls.

Sophia's small hand found its way into his and she gave him a gentle squeeze as she leaned into him for support. As his sweet daughter rested her head against his arm, and Hershel spoke of each of the fallen with the passion of an ordained minister, he wondered just who was being strong for whom.

*.*.*

"Whatcha think that's all about over there? They look like they're up t' somethin'," Daryl remarked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he glanced up from cleaning his crossbow.

Carol made another stitch in the knee of the cargo pants she was mending and hummed distractedly. After being trapped in the tombs the previous day, she'd rather be outside, but Rick had been adamant about them keeping to the block. Apparently, the man didn't think mourning could be done in the outdoors. She'd let Daryl convince her to take a nap during the late morning, but now that lunchtime had rolled around, she couldn't stand to be idle any longer, choosing to take her basket of mending into the common room to sit beneath the windows. She wanted to feel the sunlight on her skin. Her husband had quickly picked up his bow and followed, hopping up onto the table next to her to clean the already pristine weapon.

Most of the group had chosen to stick to their cells, using the solemn circumstances to catch up on much needed sleep, but some of the women least affected by their losses – and one who was looking to bury her pain in distraction – had chosen to spend their time in the common room. Her gaze wandered over to their makeshift kitchen area, and her brows drew together into a puzzled frown. Maggie, Beth, Lori and Sophia were huddled there with their heads together. It all looked perfectly innocent … or it would have if she didn't know her daughter so well.

Of course, she didn't want Daryl to become overly anxious now that he was finally beginning to relax somewhat. "They're probably talking about the new areas of the prison we now have access to, or maybe deciding on where we need to start cleaning tomorrow. I know Sophia is rather excited about the library. You have to admit it's going to take a lot of work to get this place into shape."

Daryl watched the women drag Rick over into the center of their group. The man blushed deeply, his head snapping up to stare at Daryl for a split second before Lori whispered heatedly in his ear and made him look away. "Bullshit," he growled. "They're up t' somethin'." He looked around for Sophia's shadow, his suspicions increasing when he didn't see him. "Where's Carl … See! If they weren't plottin' and schemin', Carl would be with them."

Carol snorted. "Baby … you're overacting," she purred lovingly, running her hand along his thigh as she swiftly changed tactics. "Why are you worried about what they might be doing anyway?"

Daryl lowered the crossbow to the table at his side, his eyes darkening at her touch and the sweet lilting tone of her voice. Heat shivered through him, causing his train of thought to derail. "I'm … I'm not really … jus' curious."

She smiled, feeling his muscles contract beneath her questing fingers. "Whatever they're doing, doesn't concern us, Daryl. You should be thankful they're not over here asking for your help with whatever it is they've corralled Rick into doing. You deserve a day off."

He grumbled incoherently under his breath, his palm settling over her soft hand. "Ain't no such thing as a day off any more."

Carol set her mending aside and rose to stand between his parted knees, her arms winding around his neck. "Yes, there is." She knew how difficult it was for him to appreciate idle time. She leaned into him, pressing her brow to his, reveling in his warmth. "I want to make the most of it, too. Let's go outside," she suggested. "Only Glenn and Randall are on watch today. It wouldn't be a bad idea to walk the fences … fresh air …"

"Snarlin' walkers," he countered with a grunt.

"Sunshine …"

"Pneumonia weather. All we need is y' getting' sick."

Carol nuzzled her nose against his, unwilling to fight away her grin at his grumbling. "Just you and me …"

Daryl inched back to meet the question in her mesmerizing azure eyes. "Jus' me an' you?"

"Yep," she teased, her lips popping on the 'p'. "No chores, no runs, no ravaging horde … just a nice walk on the grounds."

He hopped up off the table and slung his bow over his shoulder before sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her into his side. She'd effectively distracted him from what the others were planning, the thought of spending some time alone with her – even if it was just a walk around the grounds – solely occupying his mind. "Well, c'mon then, woman. Daylight's burnin'."

A/n: Next time … more fluff, reunion loveliness, and we're going to see Merle again, so he can catch us up on what's been happening on his end. I really hope you all enjoyed it. Please review and let me know what you think.