AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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"Hey! Hey! Easy! Easy!" Daryl barked at Skip. The horse was normally well-behaved, though he was given to a few spurts of frolicking and acting like an idiot from time to time, but he was thoroughly wound up at the moment. The fancy footwork that he seemed to naturally know how to do—something instinctively passed down, maybe, from some purebred ancestor to this mutt-ass horse beside Daryl—was what had earned Skip his name. Now, he was practically dancing as he made his way toward Mindy—again.

"Just let him go, Daryl!" Carol called out, her laughter ringing out around them. Carol's laughter was beautiful. It was sincere. Musical. And, clearly, it was robbing her of her breath.

Of course, her efforts for the day could also be robbing her of her breath.

With the whole day as an extra day in camp, they didn't have to pack up, but they did need to spend the day doing laundry and other chores. That meant stringing up the wires for hanging clothes, gathering plenty of wood and water, scrubbing clothes, and preparing food in the meantime. Daryl had run snares the night before, which provided them with some breakfast, but he'd also gone out and added to their meat supply for the day with a little hunting before the sun got too high.

They had breakfast together and, now, Daryl was working on breeding the horses—keeping those he wasn't working with tied up, so that nobody got away and nothing got too wildly out of hand—while Carol and Lydia went back and forth between performing their various tasks and watching him.

Daryl wasn't much accustomed, honestly, to sex, but he was pretty sure that he and Carol had enjoyed the quickest "quickie" known to man just before they'd left their tent to start the morning. Carol had, essentially, urged Daryl on as best she could to hurry things, and he wasn't sure if she'd gotten too much out of it, but it had seemed oddly important to her that it take place.

Maybe, like Daryl, she was still having trouble believing that any of this was real. Maybe she felt like he did. If she did, then she felt like she was currently in some strange land where the reality of their lives and the magic of their daydreams intersected.

Maybe the quickest sex known to mankind had given her something else to hold onto. Whatever the case, she'd wanted it, and Daryl was already realizing that he didn't believe he'd ever have the strength again to tell her "no"—at least not for something that would cause her no harm.

Beyond that, they'd shared only two quick kisses and more than a handful of meaningful looks, so far, throughout the day.

They would need to talk to Lydia about this. They had no idea how, or what they might say, but they felt like they needed to talk to Lydia. If they were going to start a new life as a couple, then Lydia—who was effectively the ward of the both of them—at least deserved to be officially told about their relationship.

The thought of a true, official, relationship with Carol was enough to get Daryl's heart beating wildly in his chest. It was something he'd thought about a million times before. "She's my wife. She's my girlfriend. She's my woman." Any combination of possible names for their relationship had played on Daryl's tongue, and he'd tried more than one of them out, over the years, while out hunting or otherwise left alone and in private. The only one he'd ever been able to say out loud, though, with any confidence, was "she's my best friend."

Now, he was hoping to taste the others with that same confidence. He was hoping to share them. They knew that they'd never live a whole life in Wyoming, or anywhere else, without meeting other people. They knew that the world wasn't empty, and that they weren't the only people left—far from it. They imagined that, one day, they would be part of a community that didn't know anything about their pasts beyond what they chose to share. There would be other people in their lives. They weren't in any hurry, though, to track down other people, and they weren't actively searching them out or following any of the signs of life they came across. Now, though, Daryl was considering how much he might not mind finding others for the sheer possibility of introducing Carol as "his"—he didn't even care, he realized, which title she preferred.

"Just let him go!" Carol called out to Daryl again, barely containing her laughter. "He'll figure it out."

Daryl sighed and dropped the lead on Skip. The horse was unbothered to have it dragging along beside him, though Daryl already knew that, when he got over this distraction, they'd have to "rescue" him. He'd be frozen in place because he'd be certain that his own lead was a snake unless Daryl "showed" him that he was being tethered to something and the lead was, in fact, acting as a lead.

At the very least, when Skip saw something that he believed to be a snake, he froze until someone helped him or gave him further instructions on how to get away from the snake. Most horses—like the one that had nearly killed Daryl at Hershel's farm—spooked and went wild.

Skip went on with his stupid ass little dance in his pursuit of Mindy. Mindy—sassy as she could be, and clearly a mare that did not suffer fools—seemed inclined to suffer Skip in all of his absolute idiocy.

"Here—have some water," Carol said.

Daryl walked over to where she'd brought him a jug. He thanked her and turned it up, draining more than he should have in a few long gulps. It was better to spread the water out in smaller sips, but he was thirsty and lacked self-control. He splashed some of it on his face and drank a little more before sitting down in the best spot of shade he could find to rest a minute. Carol followed him. He helped himself to a cigarette, but she refused one. She was, he could tell, feeling more relaxed than she had been the night before.

"I'ma give it to Mindy—she's wantin' to get laid as bad as Skip wants to make it happen. Got the damn patience of Job."

Carol laughed.

"What's wrong with Skip?"

"This is his damn third time after her," Daryl said. "He just can't seem to get it lined up right. I had to take a break with him an' bring Hook out. Took another break with him after that to handle Goliath."

"He can't get it in?" Carol asked.

"He can't get it in," Daryl said, shaking his head.

"Well—we'd have to test it out to be sure, but…maybe it's tricky without hands…" Carol offered. "He'll figure it out. I have confidence in Skip."

Daryl chewed on it a moment, certain that there should be a response there, but he wasn't sure what it was. Instead, he realized that he'd let things simply be quiet for too long, so he cleared his throat and steered the conversation elsewhere.

"You doin' alright with the laundry?" Daryl asked.

"Taking turns with Lydia," Carol said. She flexed her fingers. "My hands were getting a cramp from wringing things out. Still, I think we'll have everything we have to have done in time to leave tomorrow. It'll get us to the next place where we're staying a few days."

"Could be Wyomin'," Daryl offered.

Carol smiled.

"We'll stop before then," Carol said.

"We will," Daryl said. "But—we keep makin' good time, and it won't be long. Better start thinkin' about what life is gonna look like there." He cleared his throat. "Start thinkin' about—what you want it to look like."

"I've hardly thought of anything else since we left," Carol said. She cut her eyes at him and smiled a little coyly. "I've been—letting my imagination run away with me a little today."

Daryl felt his face run warm.

"Me too," he said.

"Yeah?" Carol asked. Daryl nodded. "Maybe—you can tell me a little about what you've been thinking? Before we split up for watch tonight?"

"You gotta say, too," Daryl said.

"Don't worry," Carol teased. "I'll show you mine, Daryl." She gestured toward the horses. "Looks like Skip figured it out."

"Damn sure did," Daryl commented. Carol laughed. "I wanna clap for his ass, but I don't wanna spook the others."

"Or fuck up his performance," Carol offered.

Daryl and Carol both turned to see Lydia walking up with Dog at her side. Dog immediately found a place in the shade and dropped down, panting and looking satisfied to have a cool place to wallow. Lydia stayed on her feet. Like Carol, she was wearing a large hat, though the one that Lydia had found was not nearly as wide-brimmed as the one that Carol had chosen. Regardless of the hat, there were clearly some signs of sun on Lydia's cheeks and nose. Her clothes were wet from having spent most of her day carrying water, scrubbing clothes, wringing them out, and hanging the wet cloth from lines.

Daryl could easily read the awkward stance of the girl. She always walked like she might curl into herself like a roly poly. He had once seen the same kind of stance from Carol—that fear of being too big or too much. He had felt the same, himself, in life. He could recall the feeling of wanting to fold in on himself and simply disappear.

Daryl and Carol, both, thought it was important to help Lydia get over that particular way of feeling—like she took up too much room in the world; room to which she wasn't welcome—by making it clear to her that her place was very well established with them. However, neither of them was foolish enough to think that things so deeply ingrained in someone would disappear quickly.

One thing both of them had was patience when it came to healing.

Lydia stood somewhat awkwardly and glanced at the horses.

"Are y'all watching them do that?" She asked.

"Gotta," Daryl said. "Don't want 'em to run off. Or—don't want Mindy to run off. Skip's lead is dragging, and I didn't ground tie him, so his dumb ass is gonna think that's a snake when he gets over the glory of finally figurin' shit out."

"Is he going for it again?" Carol asked. "Look at him. Can he do that?"

"Hell if I know," Daryl said. "I'm not some kinda horse sex expert. Whatever they're doin', though, neither one of 'em seems to be objectin' too damned much."

"This is gross," Lydia offered.

Carol laughed in response, and Daryl laughed more at Carol's amusement than Lydia's disgust over the whole thing. Maybe the pink on her cheeks and nose was more owing to embarrassment than sun, after all.

"It's natural," Daryl said. "It's just mating. What they're doin' is nothin' that—that nearly every species don't do."

"Doesn't every species do it?" Carol asked.

"I don't know about that neither," Daryl said. "I think some things, like worms, are like self-reproducin' or some shit."

"So, they—have sex with themselves?" Carol asked with a giggle.

Daryl gave her a look, and she laughed again. Every time she laughed, his heart fluttered. His breathing felt shallower. He almost felt lightheaded that there was so much damn good in the world and, somehow, he'd helped her find it. Somehow, he'd helped give the best person he knew the best of the world that he could give her.

"I told you—I don't know shit about sex or…or reproduction…or whatever," Daryl said dismissively to end the downward spiral of the conversation.

"Oh," Carol quipped. "Don't sell yourself short. You know enough."

"Stop," Daryl said quickly.

Lydia was looking at both of them, and Daryl got a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. Carol was laughing quietly to herself, but she looked at Lydia, too. She was studying her—the head-to-toe type studying her. Daryl had the feeling in the pit of his stomach that this was some kind of thing—maybe a mother-daughter thing, or maybe just a woman thing—and he might just let it play out.

Carol hummed, the sound a precursor to the words that she took a moment to commit to entirely.

"Lydia—sit down, Sweetheart," Carol said. She patted the ground beside her. Lydia shuffled from one foot to the other for a moment before she did, in fact, sit. She was still somewhat folding in on herself like she feared what they were about to say to her. Daryl gave her the best sympathetic look that he could when she glanced in his direction. They weren't going to leave her here, along the road to Wyoming, or throw her to wolves. Carol patted her leg reassuringly, too. "You're not in trouble," she breathed out. "We just—wanted to talk to you."

"I'll finish the laundry," Lydia offered.

Carol laughed quietly.

"This isn't about the laundry," Carol said. "We'll get it done. Lydia—the tents aren't exactly sound proof…" Lydia shook her head. She looked toward Daryl to see what he might offer. He simply held her eyes. "Did you hear—anything you might want to talk about?" Lydia chewed her lip and looked at Daryl again.

"It's OK, if you did," Daryl offered.

"And—it's OK if you…want to talk about it later," Carol said. "If you're not sure what you want to say, or ask. But—did you hear anything?"

Lydia nodded.

"A little bit," she admitted.

"You—uh—you know what'cha heard?" Daryl asked.

Their very clear answer came in the form of the teenager looking back toward the horses and gesturing somewhat awkwardly with her head. The horses in question were done with their deed for the moment, but they didn't seem interested in doing anything but grazing together. Mindy kept nosing Skip, and he still hadn't noticed the possibly-deadly snake he was dragging along with him. Still, everyone knew what they'd been doing, including Lydia.

"Fair enough," Daryl offered as response to Lydia's silent confirmation. "Anythin' you wanna—ask?"

"Not right now," Lydia said quietly.

"You can ask anything you want," Carol said. "Any time. Even if—you might be more comfortable talking to one or both of us alone. OK?"

Lydia nodded her head.

"Just—I've just got…one question."

"Go ahead," Carol pressed.

Lydia took a long moment to chew on that question. Finally, she asked it, letting her eye contact shift between Carol and Daryl.

"Just—are y'all like…forever people?" Lydia asked.

Carol looked at Daryl. There was the slightest hint of a smile on her lips. She raised her eyebrows at him. She was putting the ball in his court. Her relaxed position, though, told him that she was confident of his response, and that she agreed with it. He licked his lips, studying her face for a moment before he nodded. Even though he answered Lydia, he never let his eyes leave Carol's.

"Yeah," he said. "We're forever people."