AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!

111

"You outdone yourself with that meal," Daryl promised. Carol smiled in response, and Daryl dried the last of the dishes she'd passed him while she put away the leftovers. "Your meatloaf is my favorite."

Carol laughed to herself.

"You say that about everything," she said.

"And I mean it," Daryl said. "Every last bit of it's my favorite. But that meatloaf is, hands-down, my favorite thing I've eat tonight. I promise you that."

Carol laughed again. She felt her cheeks grow warm—cheeks that already ached from the conversation that had passed between them just since they'd been home. Daryl was in rare form or, perhaps, she was. So far, there had been nothing except laughter and teasing to close out the day.

"There's plenty," Carol said. "I'll pack you a lunch in the morning. There's enough cabbage and potatoes, too. I'll pack in a few of Sprout's cookies for dessert."

"Then it's guaranteed to be a good damn day tomorrow," Daryl assured her. "I thought you might get pissed at me puttin' in a late order like that—like you ain't been workin' all day and servin' people, but how about go buy the stuff and make me a meatloaf with all the fixings just because my sorry ass is jonesin' for it."

"You didn't exactly word it like that," Carol said. "But I still wouldn't have been pissed if you did. I like it when you have special requests. It's like I get to give you a little gift." She smiled and looked at him out of the side of her eye. "And speaking of gifts…Sprout and I have been dying to know the surprise."

"You an' Sprout, huh?" Daryl asked, walking to her—his chore of putting the dishes away done now—and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her forehead affectionately and Carol closed her eyes to enjoy the comfort of having him simply hold her.

"Mostly Sprout," Carol teased.

"Well—I sure don't want to disappoint Sprout," Daryl said. "And I would like a cigarette. If you—wanna come out with me?"

Carol didn't hesitate to join Daryl out the porch. It was cold, but it felt good. She didn't even want her jacket because she liked the chill that ran through her.

"Too cold for you?" Daryl asked, lighting his cigarette. He was seemingly oblivious to the fact that, while Carol was still wearing all her clothes, he was outside without shoes despite the cold.

"I'm fine," Carol said. "Feels good. I like to be cold sometimes."

Daryl grinned at her.

"Makes the warming up that much nicer," Daryl offered. She nodded her agreement. "You want your surprise now…or…?"

"Is it out here?" Carol asked. Daryl nodded and Carol looked around. It was dusk, but still plenty bright enough for her to see the whole yard. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary, really, and she couldn't imagine what Daryl was up to. "Did you—hide it?"

"I guess," Daryl said. "Listen—closer I get to showin' it to you, the more I feel like I got a damn giant ass worm or something trying to eat a hole in my insides, and I'm wonderin' if I made the right choice to even…get this…"

It was immediately clear that Daryl wasn't teasing, and he wasn't joking. He looked a little pale and, maybe even a little sick. Carol noticed a slight tremor in the hand that was holding the cigarette. She took the other hand.

"Hey—I don't know what you got, but…it's fine…" Carol said. "Probably better than that…"

She had to admit to herself that she at least felt a little concerned about whatever it might be, simply because Daryl seemed so concerned. Still, she couldn't see anything, so it didn't seem that it could be anything too bad or too dangerous.

Daryl squeezed her hand back.

"You got your shit," he said with a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "And I got mine. At lunch—you were sayin' that you hated what the hell them women said to you bothered you. You said that's why the hell you'd decided to stay single after Ed. You weren't gonna get involved with nobody. Weren't gonna bring your baggage into nobody's life. Weren't gonna make 'em carry your shit."

"I did feel that way," Carol said.

"You do feel that way? Or you just did—past tense all the way?" Daryl asked.

"I did," Carol said. She sighed and shrugged her shoulders, not letting go of Daryl's hand as he held hers back with just as much force as she used to hold onto him. "I do? I don't know. I do wish that I didn't have—all of this. Everything…"

"Everything he left you with," Daryl said. Carol nodded.

"I wish I could have married you with the same kind of…stupid, blind, naïve…whatever…it was that I had when I married him," Carol said. "I wish you never had to deal with any of the shit that Ed left behind."

"But—that's part of who you are," Daryl said. "And I don't like him, and I hate every damn thing he ever done to you. I'd like to break his damn skull open like a watermelon on a damn sidewalk. But—I love every part of you. Even the parts you tell me aren't quite what they used to be."

Carol swallowed against the lump forming in her throat.

"And I love every perfect piece of you," she assured him.

"Some of my parts are a little broken, too," Daryl said. Carol shook her head at him, and he nodded at her. "They are. Because you say shit like you said at lunch, and I spend the whole damn rest of the day thinkin' about it. I send a text askin' for meatloaf, and then I think—should I have sent that? Are you gonna just not be here when I get home because you realize my ass is too damned insensitive to think about the fact that you prob'ly wanna come straight home and you don't wanna go buy shit for my special ass requests? I think—was gettin' this present a good idea, or it really weren't none of my damned business, and you gonna hate it, and…maybe you tell me to go to hell because you were right all along and you were better off without some asshole in your life that don't think all the way through if shit was a good idea or not."

Carol raised her eyebrows at Daryl.

"Even if I thought you were insensitive about something," Carol said, "I'd never tell you to go to hell or just not be there…"

Daryl hummed and nodded his head.

"You wanna know what the worst damn time for me is?" Daryl asked. Carol nodded. "When we just—made love. And you get up to go to the bathroom. And I know you gotta go to the bathroom, and it ain't like I'm pissed about that, but for just them few minutes? The bed's so empty. And I feel like—you're never comin' back and I didn't enjoy it enough when you were there. Like I'm already forgettin' what it felt like when you were there…and I won't feel it again. Makes my damn chest hurt. But you do come back."

"And you always give me the best snuggles," Carol said, smiling at him. "I know you…don't like when I leave the bed, but I didn't realize you felt that way about it."

Daryl shrugged. He finished his cigarette and dropped the butt into his ashtray.

"I always felt like anything I ever thought was really good was just gone outta my life. Only damn thing I ever really kept in my life was Merle. And—good or bad, Merle's ass is up for interpretation some damn times. Spent my childhood hearin' that I didn't deserve shit that was good. Didn't deserve shit, period. Weren't worth it. Now I got the best damn thing I could ever think to imagine. I know Ed told you that—you weren't worth shit, but you're worth the damned world to me. And I know he said that he—he didn't want no baby girl any damn way, but I don't feel that way. I never could. I couldn't imagine ever bein' lucky enough to get Sprout, and now that she's growin' like she is…you know? I just…but the truth is…I feel like I'm always at least a little fuckin' terrified that the universe is gonna realize I don't deserve it. Neither one of you. None of it. That you're gonna realize I don't deserve it."

Carol touched his face. He turned his face to kiss her palm. She frowned at him, nearly choking on the simple sadness that he would feel the way he was explaining he felt. She hated to know that he felt any pain—anything but the good that he deserved to feel at all times. Her chest ached, and she didn't have to even question if it was love that it throbbed with. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," Carol said. "And—I love you more than I could ever imagine loving anyone. If anything—I don't deserve you."

"Then—you won't mind makin' me a couple promises," Daryl said.

"Whatever you want," Carol said.

Daryl nodded his head gently in response.

"You won't hesitate—not never—to bring me your shit, even if you think I ought not have to carry it. Because—carryin' it? Makes me feel like you need me. Or, at least, like you really like havin' me around."

Carol felt laughter mixing with the heaviness in her chest.

"I love having you around," she said. "And—I do need you."

"Don't try to save me from what don't hurt me by hurtin' me," Daryl said. "That's what I'm askin'."

"I promise," Carol assured him.

"And—promise me that if I ever do fuck up bad enough that you wanna be done with my ass, you'll at least talk to me about it. Don't just surprise me by makin' me wake up some damn day an' you an' Sprout are just gone."

Carol laughed to herself.

"Sprout and I would never just leave you," Carol said. "Never. Not—if I can control it. I didn't even do that to Ed."

"So—even if I fuck this up, and it isn't the great idea I thought it was when I ordered it a few weeks ago, and even if you think…I don't know…I had no damn right to give it to you…"

Carol's stomach clenched.

"Even if all of that's the case," she said, "which it won't be, Sprout and I aren't going anywhere except back in the house. You promised to warm me up after being out here, and I'm holding you to it." Daryl laughed, and he genuinely looked a little relieved. Carol realized she didn't care what it was. She was going to do her best to make him feel like it was the greatest gift of all. She raised her eyebrows at him. "You want to give it to me so we can go cram into the shower together?"

Daryl laughed. He nodded and took her hand. She followed him down the porch steps and over to the shop that was mostly finished, at this point, though it lacked a few minor details. It would be fully finished just in time for them to move into their new house, where Daryl would work more at the little workshop where he'd spent most of his life working.

Daryl led Carol inside and flipped on the light. There were started projects out there—most of which he'd covered with old sheets he'd bought in bulk at the charity place downtown where people dropped off all kinds of old, used linens that they couldn't sell for much more than what they might charge for scraps.

He brought her to one of the little work areas and lifted the towel off a stone.

"Had a guy I did some work for carve it out for me," Daryl said. "I put in some time on his custom cabinets for free, so he owed me. I prepared a whole speech or whatever. But the longer I been thinkin' about it, the more I'm wonderin' if I made the wrong decision." He waved his hand at the stone and Carol stepped close enough to look at it. Immediately, she was seized by an onslaught of very different feelings all stirring together inside her. "I hope I didn't fuck up too bad."

The stone was a large rectangular stone. Carved into it were the words:

In Loving Memory of Our Angel

Sophia Lynn Dixon

Forever in Our Hearts

Below the words, Daryl had put the date that Carol had told him—her memory the only proof that the baby girl had ever actually come into the world. A little angel was carved to the side of the inscription. When she reached for him, Carol found that Daryl's arms were waiting for her. He kissed the side of her head and rocked her from side to side.

"If it ain't OK…" He said. He didn't finish that train of thought, though.

"I want to hear what you were going to say," Carol managed to get out around the suffocating feeling overwhelming her.

"I thought we could fix it up at the house," Daryl said. "A nice little flower garden or somethin' in the backyard. Maybe a bench out there where you could…you know…spend time with her, if you want. Have coffee or just…sit sometimes. So, we don't never forget her, and nobody else don't neither. I was waitin' for today to give it to you because I was thinkin' it's a big day for Sprout. Until now, she's been followin' in her big sister's footsteps. But—today we're all goin' somewhere where—until Sprout's born—none of us have ever been before. Not like—not like we wanna forget Sophia, because I'm sure she's lookin' out hard for Sprout—but like it's a big day for Sprout. For all of us. It's week nineteen—and none of us have ever been here before. The more I've been thinkin' about it, though, the more I think it doesn't sound like I meant for it to sound."

Carol hugged tightly against him and nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. He didn't speak for a moment. He didn't ask her anything. He simply held her there and hugged her back. When she felt she could, she pulled out of it.

"It's perfect," Carol assured him. "And you're perfect. And—I can't wait to start this new…chapter…with you. For all of us."

"I know she wouldn't have had my name," Daryl said.

"She would have been…so…so…lucky to have had your name," Carol said.

"She's got it now," Daryl said, wiping at Carol's face with his hands. "For what it's worth."

"Your name's worth—everything," Carol said. "Just like you. And I don't care what your father told you, Daryl, you deserve everything. More than anything I could ever give you."

Daryl stared at her. He chewed his lip and furrowed his brow.

"Is it OK with you if—I keep what I got? It's what the hell I want. Exactly what the hell I want."

"Just as long as I get to keep what I've got," Carol said, forcing a smile to make him feel better. Daryl mirrored it, and offered her a kiss that she was more than happy to take from his lips.