Noxi: Thank you to everyone who gave me names to choose from for the dappled grey. I decided to go with Tumblr user southward-whatever's. Thank you! In the end, y'all are gonna hate me for it anyway, haha. And I love you guys for all of the support and love. I mean, you are the ones who motivate me to write each chapter as fast as I can. Thank you so much for coming back here. I'm sorry if I didn't respond to your reviews last time! I promise I will get to you all because they mean so much to me! I've just been a little busy. Enjoy!

The Walking Dead belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

Something Right

She lay in bed, the gray morning peaking in through the curtains, tugging at her. She needed to get up. She had to take a shower, she had to milk Nettie, she had to start breakfast.

Breakfast.

Daryl would be needing breakfast now. He'd need meals every day now. She wondered what it was that he liked to eat. Did he like eggs? Did he like bacon or sausage? Would he want toast, and would he want jam or butter?

How did he take his coffee? That was a whole separate matter. She knew how she felt about her coffee, and she didn't like anyone to mess it up. Ed had always been rigid about his. One spoon of sugar, with a touch of cream - if he let her make it. But most often he didn't let her. He made his own coffee. And sometimes, she was okay with that. She waited on him hand and foot, worked so hard to keep him happy with the farm that if she messed up his coffee she was afraid that one more thing to add to that mess of a plate and she wouldn't last.

She tossed her arm across her eyes, pushing off the day just a little more.

Yesterday had been a disaster. Rick had come over to ask her questions. She didn't think it was possible to be more upset than she had been when she'd found out Sky was gone, but she had almost reached that point. She'd almost broken down right there in his arms.

"Carol." She was looking outside the window, watching Daryl work around on the roof when Rick came in. Daryl tossed the shingles over his shoulder onto the ground and from time to time he would stand up and wipe the sweat from his skin.

It was comforting to watch him work. It was methodical even if she wasn't doing anything. He probably wouldn't appreciate her watching, but it kept her from throwing the dishes across the kitchen, or from digging her fingers into her skin, drawing bloody lines. It kept her from screaming until her throat was raw.

"Carol," he started again, and then the silence pushed at her from behind, heavy. She could feel his gaze on her, judging. Rick was a good man, Lori a good friend to her and his son Carl was a good friend to Sophia but right now she just wished he would walk away. She wished he weren't the damn Sheriff.

"What do you want Rick?" her shoulders curled in further at the sound of her own voice coming out hoarse. She'd been crying since she'd left Outlaw out there in the field, and she hadn't been able to stop. Only when she started watching Daryl did her tears slow.

She listened to the sound of his boots tread across her floor, each step louder than the last, until she felt his hand rest hesitantly on her shoulder.

Carol closed her eyes slowly, blocking out the image of Daryl, and breathed deep. The weight of his hand was supposed to be a comfort.

"I'm sorry for what happened Carol," he whispered softly to her, removing his hand and leaning against the counter next to her, setting his hat down. She glanced at him to see him run a hand down his face, rubbing at his eyes.

She couldn't stop the tears from slipping down her cheeks silently.

"What is it Rick?" she whispered on a half-sob, dreading the news he had surely brought her. She knew Rick hadn't come here for a social call just to check up on her, though he probably would have. He was a good man like that.

His eyes found hers, and she knew she didn't want to hear it.

"Just tell me," she whispered, nails digging into her skin. He took a deep breath and exhaled.

"Sasha's pretty sure she found Ed." Her lungs closed up. That's what if felt like. She couldn't breathe, and she tried to wrap her mind around the concept. They'd found Ed.

No, Sasha had found Ed. She had always been the best one at that investigating stuff. She had a knack for finding people, tracking them down, knowing when they used credit cards. She had connections that expanded to the cities around them.

And right now Carol wasn't sure if she should be grateful for that or not.

"Where?" Rick reached out and placed his hand over hers. She hadn't realized she was gripping the sink, or that her knuckles were hurting. Rick didn't answer right away. He just squeezed her fingers softly as if trying to reassure her, peeling her fingers back from the cheap plastic.

"We think he's gone to Riverrun."

The tears slipped down her cheeks, and her heart was a lead weight in her chest. She curled onto her side, burying her face into her pillow. Riverrun was the nearest local auction house.

Ed had gone to sell Sky. He'd taken her horse and run off with him, as if he were the problem. Sky hadn't ever done anything wrong. He'd done nothing but treat her right and give her unconditional love. And now?

She would lose him forever. All because she was the problem.

"H-how did you find him? How did you know?" She could barely stay on her feet, and Rick guided her to the chair. She slumped, cradling her head in her hands, fighting to breathe.

"Dale came to us. Told us that Ed had taken Sky Dancer but that he didn't know where, or what he was going to do. Sasha started checking his credit card, and local venues, and the auction houses. She didn't want to leave any stone unturned." Carol had never felt more grateful to the woman than now. She couldn't imagine what kind of trouble Shane was giving her but she knew she was going to have to go down there and thank her, somehow. She'd always been the one to use her education right.

"And then his name showed up on the registered list. He didn't go far Carol. We've contacted the local authorities to see if they'll help us out because we can't infringe on their territory."

She felt the pressure lift from her chest for a moment and she grabbed hold of Rick's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"So then maybe-" It was like Ed had grabbed her around the neck, cutting off her ability to breathe and her ability to talk. The weight crashed down on her chest like a brick.

"It doesn't matter," she whispered, pulling her hand away from his like it was acid. There was nothing that anyone could do. This was the life she led, and she had to accept that. No matter how badly it hurt, no matter how much she wanted to scream and rage and throw him to the wolves. This was what she had. This was her life.

"What? Carol, Ed's not but two towns over." As if that was going to solve everything. Maybe for him it seemed that simple.

"Sky Dancer's in his name, Rick. Not mine." She looked up, Rick a blur through her tears. "He can do whatever he wants with him," she murmured, fighting back the urge to sob into his arms.

"Carol-" but she cut him off. She didn't want him here, didn't want his pity, didn't want his false hope. She just wanted to be left alone.

"Just go away," she whispered, and turned from him as the sobs wracked her frame.

She wouldn't ever get Sky back. He was gone for good, for wherever Ed sold him too. She rolled over, quick and let her feet hit the floor. She jumped out of the bed and looked out the window, letting her eyes fall to the pasture. She'd let Outlaw stay there for the night.

She didn't have the heart to stuff him back into a stall after she'd taken him out of that shed. And now, watching as he stared off at the mountains, she didn't regret that decision. He shook himself, flicking his tail, throwing his head back.

She rubbed her arms, the after-night chill just starting to fade away as the sun crept over the mountains when she caught sight of a figure by the fence. She panicked for a moment until she realized who it was.

Daryl stood there, arms resting against the post, eyes to the horizon. She'd never seen anyone up as early as her before, and it was eerily calming to watch his solid back.

And then he turned, and she was caught as his eyes tracked the land and the house until he looked up at her window, finding her. He froze for a moment, watching her. She fingered the cross at her neck, swallowing heavily.

A swash of sunlight, the first one of the day, speared over the mountain and across the pasture and highlighted his still body. She couldn't stop from staring at the rise and fall of his chest, or the way he gripped the fence post next to him.

He looked cleaner than before, with a fresh shirt, his hair tousled from sleep, and surprisingly, no shoes. As their gazes met, he stuffed his hands into pockets and he ducked his head briefly before bringing it back up to look at her again.

But it was the way her chest expanded, lightened, and fluttered that made her turn away and escape to the shower, the water turned hot enough to burn her skin.

To burn away everything.

XXX

She felt better for the shower, and some clean clothes. It cleared her head of things that were lost and things she shouldn't be thinking about. The smell of the sausage was filling the kitchen and should have brought Sophia down the hallway. Carol filled a plate of eggs, toast and sausage for her, a meager breakfast she had to admit but wasn't up to much cooking this morning.

"Sophia?" she called down the hallway, standing at the doorway, waiting to hear her call back or her feet hit the floor. She frowned when she heard nothing and went down the hallway toward her room to investigate.

She pushed her door open. Sophia's walls were scattered with pictures of horses and several faces she only recognized by titles. One was a national jumper, the other a world renowned racer. She went inside and found the bed tousled but unslept in. A sliver of panic went through her, but she tried to stifle it. She was probably just in the stable with Bluebird. She turned to leave, but stopped when something caught her eye. Sophia kept two pictures in her room; one of her and Bluebird, and the other one Carol was happy to always see was of them both. She tucked the cream bedsheets down, out of habit and then reached beneath the pillow and pulled out a worn photo.

She bit her lip to stop the fresh set of tears from overwhelming her.

She sat down on her bed, clutching the picture, wrinkling the faded edges.

It was her, several years younger, her hair still long and her face not yet worn by this life. And she was standing with the very first horse she had ever loved.

Starling.

She was a dappled grey with a white mane. Her white spots so much like the stars in the sky. She was beautiful. She was young and she was fiercely loyal to her. Starling had loved the freedom of the pasture and she loved the freedom of bareback riding. She was the very first that Carol had ever taken into her life.

And she was the first one Carol had lost.

Tears dripped onto the picture, the image blurring. She stuffed the picture back under Sophia's pillow and left the room quickly, brushing the tears from her eyes. She ran out of the house, and nearly ran into Dale.

"Carol-" she just pointed to the house, gesturing for him to go inside, hoping he wouldn't follow her. She crossed the yard, and couldn't help but glance toward the cabin.

Daryl was sitting in an old folding chair, fiddling with something in his hands, watching her. Her feet slowed as she took in the steady rise of his chest, and the way his hands moved rhythmically in his lap. He wasn't just playing with something, his hands moving with a purpose. And then she found his eyes, steady on her.

She swallowed hard and took off again. She needed the shelter of the stable, she needed to find Sophia and tell her that everything would be okay. She needed to remind herself.

She needed to escape those eyes.

The smell of the stable greeted her first, and sent a warmth of comfort through her. She heard Nettle groan at her approach, and with each step closer to Bluebird's stall the weight began to lift from her shoulders.

Even if the world came crashing down around her at least she would have the comfort of this place, the smell, the warmth, the sounds. Even if she had nothing, she would have Sophia.

Bluebird's head appeared and she walked a little faster. When she peered into the stall she breathed a sigh of relief. Sophia was curled in the hay that'd fallen to the floor, and Bluebird shuffled next to her carefully.

Carol walked in softly, rubbing Bluebird as she went. Sophia had been upset last night. She knew that when she'd told Sophia that Sky was at the auction house. She could see it in her face when she'd told Sophia that Ed was the one who'd taken Sky. And there was nothing she felt she could do as she watched her daughter's back as she burst out the front door to find solace in the one friend she could talk to anything about.

Carol wasn't going to take that away from her. She would have given anything to see Sky right then.

Blue nuzzled her neck, snorting, her warm breath rushing across her skin. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine it was Sky.

"Did you keep her safe Blue?" she whispered, rubbing her hands along her neck, breathing in the scent of hay and leather, wood. "We need to get you outside Blue," she murmured, running her hands along her shoulders and down her flank. Bluebird shook her head, stamping her hoof.

Sophia stirred, curling into herself. Carol bent down, running her hand over Sophia's hair, across her cheek.

If there was anything she should be grateful for, it was right here in front of her.

"Mom?" She smiled.

"Hey baby," she crooned, helping Sophia to stand. Sophia looked around, rubbing at her eyes and then froze.

"I'm so sorry Mom, I didn't mean, I meant to-" but Carol just quieted her and rubbed her shoulders.

"Dale's inside with breakfast. Why don't you join him." She brushed Sophia's hair behind her ear as she watched her daughter's face twist up in confusion. The wrinkle between her brow was so much like Ed's and she hated it.

"Mom, the new guy…" she trailed off, her questioning gaze holding her own. She sighed, and steered her by the shoulders out of the stall and out of the stables.

"Daryl, sweetie. His name is Daryl." Sophia was silent a moment, leaning into Carol.

"Is he…" she didn't seem able to finish but Carol knew where she going. Daryl didn't look like the right type to hire. He didn't look like he came from much, and it looked as if his life was a hard one. That could say a lot about a person. She could already see the way he shifted nervously about her, and Dale. The way he picked at his clothes and his nails. He was skittish, like a mistreated horse.

But that was the beauty of a person. Beneath all the layers of dirt and grime and filth there might be a diamond. People were weighed down by things that nobody else could see. She knew that first hand. How many times had she hid the pain of what Ed had done to her so deep inside that it had started to affect how she acted around others. She knew this, but how did she change it?

She couldn't see someone's anger and not think they weren't going to hit her. How did she separate it? How did look at a man and not see Ed? She grabbed Sophia's face gently and leaned in to kiss her forehead.

Maybe Daryl wasn't so different.

"I think so baby," she whispered, hugging her tightly. Sophia's arms wrapped around her, squeezing.

"Let's go inside."

XXX

"I'll tell him Carol. It's really not that big of a deal." She finished the rest of the sausage and eggs and poured them onto the waiting plate. Dale sat at the table, coffee in hand. They'd been discussing the workload, who would do what now that Ed had taken off with Sky. It had taken all of her willpower not to burst into tears again but she didn't. She couldn't keep crying over it, no matter how much it hurt. There was too much work to be done now that they were short of hands.

She poured a cup of coffee, looking out the window as the sun lit up the pasture, the grass a wash of green and gold. She didn't know if she should add cream or sugar. He didn't seem like a sweets kind of person.

She sighed, adding a little sugar to the coffee and stirring it. The toast popped and she pulled them, spreading butter over them both.

"It's fine Dale. You said the shipment was in your truck right?" She glanced over her shoulder to catch Dale's nod as he sipped his coffee.

"Mom, do I have to go to school today?" Carol took a breath and turned, leaning against the counter.

As much as she knew Sophia had to go to school, today she just didn't feel up to making her go. Why, after everything that had happened, should Sophia have to go to school and deal with that?

Perhaps she was giving her an out, but if she couldn't take a day off of work then she could at least give someone a free pass.

"No," she said watching a smile spread across Sophia's face. "But you have to brush down Bluebird, clean out her stall, and take her out to pasture. You know I've got Outlaw settled out there right?" Sophia nodded, finishing the rest of her milk.

"He'll be okay with Blue mom. Blue's gentle with everyone." She laughed a little. Blue was also a little too playful. She was young, not yet quite a mare. She still had that urge to rile everyone up.

"Just keep an eye on them, okay? And if you have trouble you call out, ya hear?" Sophia rolled her eyes, and got up from the table, throwing her plate in the sink.

"I know mom, I know," she murmured. Sophia hugged her quickly before dashing down the hallway.

Carol sighed, and picked up her cup, placing it in the sink as well. She eyed the plate she had made for Daryl and realized if she didn't take it out there now it would be cold. Cold eggs were gross and she was just wasting time because she was nervous.

"I can talk to him Carol," Dale said once more, sensing her hesitancy.

She shook her head and picked up the plate and coffee. "I'll do it," she said softly. "But I'll send him over to you once he's done eating okay? I think we should just give him the time to adjust into the work for now." Dale was nodding absently as she walked out the door.

She was only bringing him breakfast. She didn't know why she was so nervous.

XXX

It got awkward. The longer she stood there, holding out the food like a talisman between them, the more she wished she'd never come out here.

She watched as his face grew more alarmed the closer she got. And that sent her heart into a panic. They were going to have to initiate conversation, get more comfortable around each other eventually. If he was going to work here, it was only time and patience, and willingness that would see to that.

"Breakfast," she said quietly, holding it out toward him. His eyes flicked up to hers, then glanced back down at the plate. She watched his throat bob as he licked his lips, eyeing the food appreciatively.

"Don't want it," he mumbled. It was clear that he did, she just didn't know why he wasn't taking it. He went back to what she had seen him doing earlier and could now identify – he was whittling. It wasn't anything special and he didn't bother to keep his eyes on the piece either. He just let his hands maneuver the small knife across the block of wood like he'd been doing it his whole life.

And maybe he had. It was mesmerizing to watch – both the action and his hands. She could see that his hands were weathered from years of a hard life doing god knows what she could only imagine. His nails were bitten down, and there was a filth etched into his skin that came from years of hard work. That was how the whole of him looked now that she stood there long enough to take all of him in.

There was a darkness to his skin, more than just being weathered by sun and age and the elements. She didn't miss the fine scars that littered the backs of his hands, or the long jagged one that traveled up his forearm and disappeared under his sleeve. She felt a lump of understanding sit hard in her stomach. Those weren't done by accident. Those were purposeful.

"Hell you lookin' at?" She flinched, felt the flush crawl up her neck. She found his blue eyes, hard and unyielding.

"I'll just leave it here," she said with a quiver in her voice that she tried to quell. She couldn't believe she'd been caught staring. She set the plate at his feet, balancing the coffee on the step. She played with the cross at ther neck, knowing she couldn't leave yet, feeling the weight of her embarrassment sit heavy between them.

"Said I don't want it," he barked, standing up and letting the wood fall to the chair behind him. He crossed his arms over his chest, stepped further away from her putting some distance between them.

"I told you yesterday," she said, hoping to placate his nerves. She didn't want him to be upset, didn't need for both of them to be. "It's just what I do," she tapered off, looking away. What she'd always done. Housewife, horse-whisperer, cattle-driver and whatever else was needed. She did everything around here. She was running herself ragged.

He shifted on his feet, biting at the skin of his nail.

"When you're done eating you can just leave the dishes here. I'll come by later to pick them up." She waited for him to say anything, if he would. When he just continued to stare at her with those blue eyes that made it hard for her to breathe she just continued on. "I'll talk to you later about what you'll be doing on the farm. For now, Dale brought in a shipment of feed from the Greene's that he needs help unloading into the stables. It's heavy work, a lot feed." He was staring at her. It was making her nervous and it left her uncomfortable.

"So?" She swallowed against the lump in her throat.

"Well, I just wanted to be sure…" He took a step toward her, body tensed.

"Sure that I ain't gonna pussy out cos the work's a little hard?" He scoffed, waving his hand across the air.

"You think I'm gonna get scared off by work an' a little family dispute? Ya think I ain't seen my own share a shitty problems?" he yelled back, face pinching in disgust.

She couldn't help the way her chest clenched, or her eyes burned. She backed up several steps, away from his anger, and curled her arms around her body.

It was her fault for making him angry. It was her fault for putting that pressure on him. She should have just let Dale handle this. Instead of trying to act like this farm was hers. Instead of pretending that she could handle it.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, and turned away before he had a chance to see the self-hatred on her face and mistake it for something else.

XXX

She wasn't going to admit that watching Daryl work and sweat while hauling the feed from the truck and to the stable was fascinating, despite what had happened earlier.

She couldn't stop watching the way he lifted each of the stacks of hay over his head, hauling each one into the stables, his arms straining with the weight. Ed had never looked so…invested in his work. Ed had never given such a damn before. Ed had never cared about his work. Daryl put everything he had into. Dale showed him an easier way to grip the stack of hay, and Daryl didn't bite back at him for it. He just nodded his head, and followed his instructions. Dale offered him up a pair of gloves to protect his hands, and Daryl declined. When he buckled beneath the weight of the hay in surprise the first time, and he tossed it over his shoulder, muscles straining against the odd bundle she had to turn away.

Everything about him was different than she had ever known in her life. He was the complete opposite of Ed and that made her nervous. She was so used to Ed giving up half-way, and having to pick up the slack behind him. She was always trying to find ways and time to finish what he never did.

What was it going to be like with a man around who could handle the work and was a fast learner? Henry had always been willing to do the work, and never put up a fight about it. But he was young, and he was always looking for fun. She liked Henry. He was a good kid. But he wasn't what this farm had needed.

She was brushing down Molly and watching as Dale explained to him a few different set of tools they kept around the farm, some of the horse equipment, the cattle prods and what went where. He'd come to her while Daryl was unloading the last of the hay and asked what she'd wanted with him. Horses or to get to know the place better first.

She didn't feel up to showing him the horses just yet, didn't feel up to testing that line within her. And she wasn't sure she was ready to help him face the horses yet. She could see his hesitancy around them. He was nervous around them, skittish, wide-eyed. She merely mentioned them and he got quiet, started fidgeting with his hands and clothes.

She wondered where he came from if he'd never been around horses before. She'd never met anyone in Montana who hadn't been around horses at least once before. The drawl he let slip on occasion suggested he came from the south. But if that was the case he was a long way from home.

Maybe it's not home anymore she thought.

"Enough Carol," she said to herself, feeling like she was doing a wrong. She shouldn't be wondering into his past. That was his business, and if he decided to share it then he would. Though she doubted it. It wasn't as if they were friends.

It wasn't as if she was just going to offer up her own past.

Molly flicked her tail at Carol and she laughed.

"Alright girl," she said patting her side, running the brush across her shoulder, and down her back. "It's all about you, I know," she sweet talked, the smile slipping from her face.

She was never going to get over it. Nothing was never not going to remind her of Sky. Every flick of a tail, every snort against her skin, every time she pressed her face into Molly's neck it wasn't the same.

She was going to have to find a way to accept it, to work through it. But she would never get over it. Ed had taken Sky from her and that would forever be between them. She didn't know how she was going to face him now when all she wanted to do was strangle him.

"Breathe Carol," she whispered to herself. "Keep steady my steps according to your promise, and let no iniquity get dominion over me," she quoted, closing her eyes, resting her head against Molly's side. Molly waited patiently.

Until the sound of car tires had both their heads turning. Carol watched as Lori and Carl got out.

"Carl, we won't be long," Lori called, shading the sun from her eyes and watching as Carl ran off to find Sophia.

"I know mom," he called back, the exasperation clear in his voice. She smiled, and waved Lori over.

"Hey honey," she said comfortingly, reaching out to pull her into a hug. She felt her chest tighten and let Lori's arms hold her close, briefly, before she pulled away.

"I'm so sorry." She swallowed the tears back. She should have known Lori would have cut right to the sympathy. It was sweet and it was nice of her to stop by, but right now she was only trying to get passed those feelings. Lori rubbed her shoulder affectionately, and she bit her lip to hide the wince as the pain shot down her arm.

"How're you doin'?" She shrugged, passing the brush over to Lori. She took it without question and started on Molly's other side while Carol started to braid a small part of Molly's mane.

"I'm fine," she said, with as much enthusiasm as she could. She peeked over Molly's back to find Lori's brow quirked. They stared at each other a moment and then she started laughing.

Lori chuckled for a moment, watching as her laughter turned to tears.

"Oh sweetie, you're doing the best you can," she said warmly, reaching over to clutch Carol's hand. Carol choked on a sob through her laugh as she gripped Lori's hand back. "If I had been you, I might have taken a cattle prod to the man a long time ago," she said with a look, pursing her lips, breaking eye contact with Carol.

But what Lori didn't know was that Carol wished she had done something like that. She wished a thousand times over that she was as strong as Lori was. She wished she could tell Ed to stop hitting her or she would call the police. That if he didn't start taking care of more duties around the farm that she would leave him. That if he didn't treat her better she would hurt him back.

But she couldn't. She couldn't hurt someone like that. She couldn't imagine laying on a hand on Ed no matter how many times he had smacked her across the face, or pushed her against the wall, or threatened her life.

She just couldn't do it.

"Enough about that ass," Lori said and stopped brushing. "Tell me about your new ranch-hand." Carol could tell by the arch of her brows and the tone of her voice that she was both intrigued and worried.

She glanced behind her, and saw that Dale was taking him to the back pasture where the cattle grazed. She couldn't place why, and she didn't want to think about it, but he chose that moment to glance at them both. She held his gaze for a moment longer than she should have.

"Carol?"

"Daryl," she said, turning back to Lori, "his name's Daryl. He showed up the other day looking for work. He's been real…quiet."

"Uh-huh," Lori responded doubtfully, a smile working up her lips. Carol sighed and grabbed Molly's rein.

"He is Lori. He hardly talks, and I think he's scared of me. Me," she said exasperated. "What am I gonna do, yell at him?" Lori tried to stifle a giggle, and Carol smiled a little. No one had ever been afraid of her and she certainly didn't have the heart to yell.

She guided Molly to the pasture where she let her go, watching as the chestnut mare kept a fair distance from Outlaw. Lori seemed to take notice of this as well.

"How's your new stallion doing?" She sighed, watching as Outlaw kept to the rim of the fence, closest to the mountains, farthest from her and the other horses. She didn't have the heart to place him back in the stall and she couldn't keep the others cooped up for the day. And it wasn't like she had unlimited free space for them to roam. She trusted her horses, but she did fear for their safety.

"He's fearful. He doesn't trust anyone, and he's hurting – inside. He's been mistreated and I can't blame him for taking that out on the world." She watched him, the pain in her chest expanding. She wanted to give Outlaw the time and care that he needed. She wanted to love him. If she were honest, she already did. There was a gentleness in his eyes that she could see when he looked at her. He wanted to trust her, but he just couldn't. There was too much pain in his past that he couldn't get through. He couldn't trust her outstretched hands, or her calm voice. Not yet.

And the minute Ed came back home things would go back to the way they were. And they'd probably get worse. He'd see the freedom she'd let the horses have, that Outlaw had had, and he'd punish her. He'd probably punish them all.

She brushed at the tears on her cheeks, hating herself for being so weak.

"He's already taken Sky away from me Lori," she muttered, hugging herself tight. "I can't let him hurt the others."

Lori's arm circled around hers, her head leaning against hers. "I know," and it wasn't going to change anything, it wouldn't do anything to help her. But it was nice to know that Lori was still her friend despite what she let Ed get away with. It kept her going knowing that no matter how bad of a person she was for allowing Ed to do all of those things, Lori would still be her friend. "I know," Lori echoed, pulling her tighter.

"Look," she said, pushing away, her hand still on her elbow, "Rick and Sasha pulled a late night. They're talking to the other Sheriff's. Talking with the auctioneers." Carol shook her head.

She couldn't allow herself to be pulled into that hope again. Ed always found a way to get what he wanted. She knew that, knew she couldn't think anything otherwise.

"It doesn't matter Lori," she walked away from the hope in Lori's face before she made the mistake of letting herself believe. "Ed always gets what he wants."

"Carol!" Carol kept walking away, before the pain of that admission consumed her.

"Thank you for stopping by. It means a lot to me," she called out, leaving Lori behind.

She couldn't let herself grab onto that branch of hope. Or else she would fall again, the branch snapping under her weight. And the next time, she might not get back up again. That fall might break her.

XXX

Sophia and Dale were laughing about something at the table but she couldn't stop staring out the window. She couldn't stop staring at Daryl.

She'd taken him dinner, and he didn't put up a fuss about it this time. But he didn't take it from her hand either. She'd set it down at his feet, while he sat there silently. She met his blue eyes with her own and for a moment she wanted to tell him that he'd done good today, that he'd adapted to his first day well. But it fell flat on her lips, and suddenly she felt awkward. The longer she stood there, the more she felt wrong for being there.

Now, he sat out there whittling that wood again, and she could see he was smoking.

She didn't mind it, and for some reason, she wasn't surprised by it either. It was just odd to see a man sitting by the cabin, smoking and whittling. Ed never sat on the porch. He always sat in the kitchen, and he always drank.

"Mom?"

"Hm?" She turned to find Dale and Sophia staring at her, questioning looks on their faces.

"I asked if I could stay home tomorrow too," Sophia tried, her face eager. Carol didn't blame her, but one day was enough.

"It's Friday sweetheart. You can finish up the week." She couldn't stop her smile at Sophia's groan.

"But mom," she whined, and Carol just shook her head.

"No buts. Get ready for bed okay?" She kissed her head, and pushed her off, watching her slump for effort down the hall. Dale laughed behind her.

"She's been strong," Dale commented. She could tell he was fishing, really asking about how she was doing. But she wasn't in the mood to talk about it anymore.

"Goodnight Dale," she murmured as she kissed his cheek.

He chuckled. "Alright Carol," and he walked out, heading back to his Winnebago. One day she'd convince him to find a house, or to let her fix up one up the sheds for him. She would.

She saw the pile of dishes in the sink and knew she needed to wash them. But instead she was walking out the door, her feet carrying her back to the cabin. And she told herself it was just because she needed his dishes. She told herself it wasn't because she was interested to know what he was doing.

She watched him shift in the chair as she approached, putting out the cigarette.

"You don't have to do that," she called, hating that he'd stop on her account. She didn't want to him to think he couldn't do anything around here like it was a prison. At least, it wasn't his prison.

"I don't mind if you do that," she continued, getting closer. And the closer she got, the more he curled into himself. The tighter his muscles coiled, and he chewed his bottom lip.

"As long as it's not around the animals that is." She tried for a smile but he didn't respond. And suddenly she felt that creeping awkward silence fall between them again. She wanted to say something more, but it didn't seem like he wanted her around.

She couldn't blame him.

She bit her cheek, to stop that sadness from welling up inside her and picked up his dishes and turned around, prepared to take that long walk with his gaze burning a hole into her back.

"Thanks." She froze at the sound of his gravelly drawl slipping over her, hitting a soft place within her. She liked the way that drawl sounded in her ears. It wasn't what they normally had up here. She turned on her heel, slowed at the last second, and swallowed.

"What?" He nodded at her hands and she looked down, blinked.

"Don't have to cook. Can fend for myself. Been doin' that mah whole life," he offered softly, looking away sheepishly. And she realized suddenly that he had just given her a small measure of who he was. Small maybe, but indefinably there. And she almost staggered back. He had done the same thing earlier, when he had yelled at her. He had said that he'd had a shitty life as well.

He'd fended for himself and he'd dealt with his own kind of hurt. Whatever it was, it was enough for him to respond to her kind of pain. He was willing to walk around her life and say it wasn't going to scare him away. It said enough about him for her to wonder just what he'd been through. It made her wonder at the scars on his hand, and if there were more than she could see. He was trying. It was small, but she would take.

She smiled softly, pulling the dirty dishes to her chest.

"It was a part of your offer to work here. And I like to cook, as long as you like it." She waited to see if he would argue her cooking, but he just shrugged his shoulders, ducking his head. His hands were still for a moment, as he sat there, blue eyes hidden in the shadow of his face.

"S'good," he said quietly. She felt her neck flush, and she turned away before he could see it. Though how he could see anything in the dark, she wouldn't know.

"I'm glad," she murmured back, thinking to the number of times that Ed had never told her that he'd liked her cooking. His voice and his words sent a sliver of warmth through her heart, and she took off feeling lighter than she had all day.

It wasn't much, but for once since everything had happened she felt like maybe she had done something right.

A/N: From this point on I'll be switching between Carol and Daryl's POV within each chapter. It's to the point where I need to – for both myself and the story. And I really hope the Caryl movement wasn't too fast for you guys. It just sort of came out that way. I love you!