Getting back a little steam for this story. I'm about to start the next chapter now. This pleases me, since I've been a bit stressed about not updating often enough. Thanks for reading!

Chapter Nineteen

The group stood in the middle of a grand foyer, feeling more like a bunch of lowly bums than they had any right to under the circumstances. The owners had obviously evacuated with the intentions of coming back eventually. The locks on the doors had been too complicated for Daryl to pick and no one was willing to shoot them since it was clear that if they couldn't force their way in, then no one else would be able to either.

Just to see if Cassidy had been right Merle had found a hammer in the large steal workshop in the back of the property and taken it to one of the back windows with more zeal than was necessary. The glass looked as though it cracked, forming an intricate webbing and Carol had felt her heart sink.

"Damn it," she muttered. She ran her hand over the spot and then her brows shot up. "Nothing."

Cassidy crossed her arms over her chest. "If this is the same type of stuff I had then no one is getting in here unless we want them to."

They hadn't been able to find a way in until Merle suggested that they could have left a second floor window unlocked. So with a ladder from the same building they retrieved the hammer, they got to work on climbing up and checking the windows. It was a hell of a task considering the amount of windows and after a while Merle and Daryl both were growling and grumbling about rich people being too paranoid.

Finally, in the very back, there was a small window that Daryl was able to push open easily. Unfortunately, Daryl was much more broad in the shoulders than he had been when they had first met. He couldn't twist himself enough to squeeze inside so with a curse he had stomped down the ladder.

Right before one of the other women could volunteer Mercy was scrambling up the ladder and slipping easily into the house, knife clamped between her teeth and pistol at her hip. Carol had been certain there were no walkers inside but she was still nervous as the girl slid into the small opening.

And now, here they were, standing in the foyer, looking around like they were astronauts that had landed on some strange planet. The crystal chandelier hung above them and off to the left a wide stairway curved up to the second floor. Carol had never been in a house quite like this before. It felt more like one of those luxury hotels you see in brochures.

"Not too shabby," Merle muttered, his eyes taking in the space.

Carol hadn't realized that Mercy wasn't with then until she came around the corner, a small pad of paper in her hand and a frown on her face. She handed the notepad to Carol.

The window I came through led me into a closet. Why would someone need a closet bigger than my old house?

Carol laughed, delighted that the child was compelled to ask such questions since all they had gotten from her before was her name. She eyed the girl. "I have no idea. Rich people are a mystery to me too,"

The girl rolled her eyes and then shrugged, taking the paper back and quickly wrote something else, holding up the paper for Carol to read. Can I have it?

Carol frowned. "You want the closet?"

It can be my own space and I didn't think anyone else would want it.

Carol surprised herself, and everyone else, when she pulled the girl in and hugged her. Mercy hugged her back but when Carol pulled away her cheeks were flushed like she was embarrassed. It was easy to forget that they were all people. That they were people that still had small wants and a need for something, however small, to call their own. "It's all yours."

The girl grinned and then shoved the notepad into her back pocket. Maybe she was planning on communicating more now. Carol hoped so anyway. She wanted to know more about the girl. At least the basics. She was such a mystery to all of them.

~H~

Daryl was normally a skeptic. He didn't see much good in the world anymore because he had been fooled before, but even he couldn't deny this windfall. This wasn't anything he had ever expected to find. What he had expected was for his brother and Cassidy to come back, excited about some abandoned lot with a fence around it and a dilapidated building that they could all squeeze into for the winter.

And that would have been fine, really. As long as they could have stayed relatively safe in one spot while the weather was bad. Winter was an awful time to be on the road and he sure as hell wasn't ready to face another one. He was getting too fucking old for that kind of shit.

"I want this."

He turned from the painting he had been staring at that was hanging in the wide second floor hallway. The owners of this place had most likely spent a blue collars years salary on it and he couldn't see anything appealing about the smears of color that some asshole swiped across the canvas, and then passed it on to dumb rich types for a shit ton of money. "You want what?" He asked, studying her face as she looked into the open doorway leading to one of the bedrooms.

She pointed. "Have you seen this bed?"

He had taken a look into every door he passed, took note of each room and then just kept moving. There were a lot of them, even for a house this big, but he wasn't expecting them to get one of the better rooms. Him and Carol were kind of low maintenance like that. He would have been okay with one of the closets like Mercy.

He glanced in and then shrugged. "Not too shabby I don't guess."

She looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "Not too shabby? Daryl, you can't tell me you've ever crawled into something that looked as comfortable as that. Especially after sleeping in the damn dirt!"

He eyed the bed and then he eyed her. "I've been sleepin' in the dirt half my life. Nothin' wrong with sleepin' in the dirt."

With a roll of her eyes she grabbed his hand and hauled him into the room, shutting the door behind her. He didn't fight her as she pulled him towards the bed. Actually, he was pretty goddamn eager to get her to a bed. Being with her all the time but also being surrounded by a whole group of other people that watched their every move wasn't exactly easy for him.

"Take them off," she demanded, hands on her hips.

He regarded her levelly. If she'd asked him this some time ago, like at the prison, he'd have huffed and flushed and stormed away. Not so much anymore. He shrugged and his hand went to his belt.

"Jesus, Daryl," she hissed, stilling his hands with one of hers. "I meant your boots!"

He scowled. "I was getting there."

"Only your boots," she said before she gave up and laughed. She didn't do it often. Almost never, so when she did the sound of it filled him with an odd kind of happiness. "You're definitely not the same man I remembered from the prison."

He toed off his boots. "There. Now what?"

She sighed heavily. "Now get in the bed."

He rolled his eyes. "Woulda made a lot more sense to take off everything else first but alright," he grumbled.

She shook her head, watching him as he flopped down gracelessly onto the bed. He tried to hold it in but he let out a groan as the mattress molded to his body and the tension in his spine seemed to melt away.

He opened his eyes when he heard her laugh softly. "Okay, you win. I want this one too."

"I told you," she said, dropping down next to him and folding her arms under her head. "And I don't think anyone will care if we stake a claim. There's plenty of places to sleep in this place."

He nodded, staring up at the ceiling. "We need to think about our next move. Now that we're able to lay low we aught to try to come up with a solid plan if we're gonna have any chance of finding the others."

She didn't say anything for a long time. He turned his head and found her staring up at the ceiling, her eyes troubled. He waited her out, trying to fight back the hope that was building in his chest but it was hard. He didn't want to spend their time out looking for those people. The people that turned her out. He tried hard to understand why she felt she needed to. He did understand her desire to see those kids safe and alive, but at what cost?

It seemed as though she simply needed something to cling to. She needed a purpose to keep moving, but maybe now she was finally starting to realize that she had a purpose right in front of her. This was her group and the women here needed her. They needed her to keep her head on straight and they needed her to watch over them. She never asked to be a leader. She never demanded that anyone turn to her and her alone to make decisions, not like Rick had done, but she was a leader that those women had chosen. She was the type of person that had somehow grown into a natural leader.

She turned her head, meeting his eyes and smiled slightly. "Maybe we can just lay low and rest for a while. We haven't been in a place like this. Not a place that's secure and comfortable. Cassidy said there's a creek not far away. We can do what we need to do to make this place livable and then, maybe when spring hits, we can look for them again."

He looked back up at the ceiling and blew out a heavy breath, and what felt like two years worth of stress, and nodded. "That's about the best idea I've heard from you yet."

She found his hand lying between them and laced her fingers through his. They laid there like that for a long time, both lost in thought as his thumb drew random patterns into her wrist. Neither expected to fall asleep, with the excitement of finding a sanctuary like this one, but eventually they did. They woke to the sound of excited voices coming from the hallway.

They both sat up, fingers still tangled together, when Merle barged into the room. The grin on his face had them glancing at each other.

"Get up and get naked mother fuckers. We got water," Merle barked, grabbing Carol's hand and pulling her up from the bed. "You both smell like a bloated corpses ass."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Daryl asked, running a hand through his overgrown hair.

"Found a goddamn pump in the basement, little brother. We got water. Real life right outta the goddamn pipes water."

Carol looked confused now. "Merle, we don't have electricity. What good is a pump if-"

"You two was meant for each other, you know that?" Merle grumbled. "Always gotta ask questions. Can't ever just take somethin' good for what it is. Right now there's a battery that's workin' just fine and once that's used up, it's connected to a hand pump for back up. It's comin out like ice and tastes like fuckin' heaven in a spigot so I'm guessin' that there's a spring."

Carol looked up at Daryl, eyes wide, and then she leaned in slightly, wrinkling her nose. "He's right. You stink."

Daryl grimaced as Merle's laughter filled the room.

"Carol, I bet if we looked hard enough we could find you ladies some french maid uniforms. That's what rich people did back in the day, right? Make their hired help wear sexy little- Ouch, what the fuck, little brother!"

Daryl had jabbed an elbow into his sternum on his way past. "Shut your cake hole, Merle. These women would have you tied up wearin' one them uniforms if you did end up findin' one." He cursed when he realized that Merle's sick ass probably wouldn't be opposed to something like that and now it just sounded dirty.

Merle whistled low. "Damn, boy. Didn't know you had no kind of kink streak in you. We got more in common than I thought."

Daryl flushed and kept storming away, the sound of Carol's laughter mingling with Merle's behind him.