Premise: A sequel to my season 6B reboot fanfic "Starting Over." Daryl and Carol move into their own home and confess the secrets they've kept from each other. This also contains references to my other fanfic "To Live Again."

THE WALKING DEAD
"No Secrets Between Us"
By
Rapscallion​

The front door to the home Rick's group occupied in Alexandria opened and Daryl put his back against the doorway; a moment later Carol, wearing a cardigan sweater, a button down shirt, and dress pants, walked onto the porch, offering Daryl a gentle smile as she did so; Daryl blushed, and followed her onto the porch and closed the door behind them.

"You ready to do this?" Daryl asked.

Carol exhaled and wrung her hands nervously. "I think so."

Daryl placed a hand on Carol's upper arm. "We only have to tell them, and they'll the others about our decision."

"But Rick and Michonne are the two most influential people in the group," Carol reminded Daryl. "They could try to make us reconsider, or they might accuse us of being selfish just when the group needs to pull together."

Daryl lowered his head and thought over Carol's concerns. She was certainly right about Rick; he had been the group's leader for over a year, and during that time, Rick not only convinced the group to keep going when they were on the brink of giving up, but to succeed when their instincts told them they would fail. Daryl had tried to kill Rick for cuffing his older brother Merle to a department store roof, and yet he found himself following Rick's orders. It didn't take long for Rick to not only win Daryl's trust, but his respect.

But there was one problem with Rick's leadership: he was arrogant, and to Daryl, the first sign of that arrogance occurred a few months ago when Rick exiled Carol from the prison for killing the sickly Karen and David, while the group struggled to stop the flu from spreading throughout the prison.

Rick defended his decision by saying Carol wasn't sorry, but Daryl knew what she did was for the group, and not because she was a murderer. If Daryl hadn't been exhausted from the med run to the veterinarian college —or if the Governor hadn't attacked with his new group minutes later — he would've kicked Rick's ass that day.

Since then, Rick's arrogance became bolder with each new crisis, and the last example was his plan to relocate the herd of walkers trapped in the nearby quarry 20 miles away from Alexandria, with Daryl riding his motorcycle, acting as the bait.

The whole plan when to shit when Alexandria was attacked by a group of psychopaths known as the Wolves, the noise from the attack attracted the tail end of the herd to Alexandria; a wall was knocked down, and the herd roamed through the streets. Jesse, Rick's new girlfriend, was swarmed along with her two boys, but not before the oldest one shot Carl in the face: he lost an eye, and had just gotten back on his feet.

As for Daryl, he had been shot in the arm by a group of Scavengers, and he lost his crossbow and motorcycle to a man and woman he tried to help...thanks to the test of three questions Rick dreamed up back at the prison.

Enough was enough. It was time for Daryl and Carol to not just start over, but to get away from Rick and his merry band of bootlickers. Daryl shook his head and looked at Carol. "No. We've got to go through with this. Rick's our leader, but he damn sure ain't God Almighty. We're tellin' him were movin' out, and if he wants his "family" to stay together, we'll just give him the Finger and move out anyway!"

Carol framed Daryl's face with her hands, and Daryl realized he was shouting and sighed in embarrassment.

Carol smiled softly, and her right hand brushed through the long, dirty hair along Daryl's temple. It had the calming effect that Carol intended and Daryl slipped his hands around her waist.

"I'm sorry," Daryl muttered.

Carol kissed Daryl on his cheek, and his complexion turned red from embarrassment.

"It's alright," Carol whispered.

Daryl smiled appreciatively, and he reluctantly stepped back from Carol. "Well, let's get this over with."

Carol nodded, and she and Daryl walked down the steps of the group's home and headed towards Alexandria's infirmary.

 

Rick sat hunched over in his chair, his elbows on the armrests and his fingers intertwined as he waited for Carl to step out of his room. Michonne sat nearby in another chair, holding Judith in her arms, the baby was cooing softly.

Several days had passed since the Battle of Alexandria, but Rick was still reeling from the results. After a part of the wall collapsed, and the herd filtered through the town, Rick, Carl, Judith, Michonne, Father Gabriel, Rick's girlfriend Jesse, her two sons Ron and Sam, and a bitten Deanna, hid inside Jessie's house. As evening approached, Rick left Deanna to her fate, had the group put on tarps covered in walker blood and guts and hand-in-hand, they slowly made their way past the walkers that were entering the house.

Rick's group had not gone far when he ordered them to split up: Father Gabriel would take Judith and the children to the church, while he led the others to the cars, and slowly lead the herd out of Alexandria. Unfortunately, Sam refused to leave his mother, so Rick agreed to let him tag along. It didn't take long for Sam's fear of the walkers to overcome his desire to protect his mother, and he froze in place and began whimpering. Sam quickly attracted the walkers' attention and they swarmed him. Jesse screamed in horror, and she was swarmed too. Jesse had a firm grip on Carl's hand, and Rick had no choice but to take his hatchet, and chop her hand off to save his son. He had no sooner freed Carl when he saw Ron, pointing Carl's Beretta 92FS pistol at him. Rick, mindful they were in the middle of a herd, could do nothing but silently wait for the sound of a bullet shooting out of the pistol's barrel and slam into his body, but Ron simply grinned, pointed the gun at Carl, and fired.

A second later, Michonne, who was standing behind Ron, ran her katana through his back, killing the boy instantly. Rick breathed a sight of relief and nodded his thanks to Michonne, and then he saw something that would haunt his sleep for the rest of his life: Carl turning to face him...with a big, empty and bleeding hole where his right eye should be.

"Dad?" Carl whispered weakly and frightfully.

 

Carl collapsed unconscious to the ground. Rick picked up his son and ran towards the infirmary while Michonne cleared a path through the herd with her katana.

Rick wouldn't admit it, but as he looked at his son laying on that table while Denise worked frantically to save his life, he had gone temporarily insane, just like he did at the prison, when he discovered that Lori had died in an emergency Caesarian section after the inmate Andrew had lured several walkers into the courtyard and got the group separated. Rick grabbed his hatchet and ran outside, chopping and slashing the herd with the weapon, only caring that he killed as many of them as he could before they swarmed him and ripped him to pieces.

But something extraordinary happened: the citizens of Alexandria, who days before were terrified by the site of walkers, ran out of their homes armed with knives, clubs, and pipes, and attacked the herd. At their most desperate moment, when it seemed that all hope was lost, the Alexandrians found the courage to fight alongside Rick's group and defend their town from the dead. The timely return of Daryl and his group with a heating oil truck, and an RPG, turned the pond in the center of Alexandria into a watery inferno, and the remainder of the herd slowly walked into it and were incinerated.

Rick closed his eyes, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and sighed wearily. It had been a great victory, but it came at a cost: a dozen people had died either along the road or in the town, and Carl had nearly died. He stayed near his son every day of his recovery; Michonne stayed too. Rick appreciated Michonne's concern, but told her she didn't have to move into the infirmary along with him and his infant daughter Judith. Michonne simply set a cot against the wall, and that put an end to the debate.

 

The bedroom doorknob turned and the door slowly opened. Rick's hands gripped the chair's armrests and he pushed himself up to his feet. Michonne also stood, and held Judith closely in her arms.

Denise stepped out of the room first, and smiled gently at Rick. "He's ready," she said.

Rick rubbed the stubble on his jaw, nervously put his hands on his hips, and nodded.

Denise looked back in the bedroom and stepped back. Footsteps were heard approaching, and Carl stepped out into the main room. His head was down, and the battered and faded Stetson that was once Rick's sheriff's deputy hat was on his head.

"Carl?" Rick whispered.

Carl raised his head. His complexion was pale, his bangs covered most of his face, and the Stetson was crushed down to his forehead; all of it was to mask the heavy gauze bandage that covered his right eye socket.

"Hey," Carl muttered lifelessly, and his mouth returned to being a thin line.

Rick walked over to his son and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad that you agreed to step outside today."

"Michonne asked me to," Carl said coldly.

Rick froze for a moment; ever since Denise told him and Michonne that Carl had regained his strength, he had asked Carl each day to go outside, and each time he asked, Carl had immediately refused. Yesterday, Michonne convinced Rick to let her ask Carl that question, and when Rick agreed, Michonne waited all day for the right moment, and during dinner, she asked Carl if he'd like to help her on a perimeter check, and he cheerfully agreed. Rick knew Carl agreed not because Michonne waited until the end of the day to ask, or that she phrased the question differently, it was because Michonne asked and not him. Rick looked down at his son, saw the hate burning in his left eye, and patted his shoulder. "It's good of you to help Michonne out," he said.

Carl said nothing and walked away from his father.

Michonne walked over to Carl and stood behind him as he gazed out the window. "Why don't you say good morning to Judith?" she asked.

Carl trembled, but he kept staring out the window, as Michonne, Rick, and Denise waited for him to reply.

"I...I don't want to scare her," Carl answered.

Judith cooed and Michonne smiled softly. "I don't think she's afraid. I think she misses her big brother."

Carl turned around slowly and looked up at Michonne holding Judith. Michonne bent down and offered Judith to Carl, and he hesitantly held out his hands. Michonne gently placed the baby in Carl's hands, and he held his baby sister close to his chest. Judith smiled at Carl and her tiny hands reached up and touched his chin. Carl chuckled while Michonne, Rick, and Denise tried to stop from crying.

Michonne began to wipe the tears from her eyes when she glanced out the window. "Rick," she said as she slowly lowered h hand to her side.

Rick looked away from his children and at Michonne. "Yeah?"

"Daryl and Carol are headed this way."

 

Daryl wrapped his hand on the infirmary's door knob and with his free hand, signaled for Carol to stay on the porch; Carol nodded and Daryl opened the door and stepped into the room.

Daryl immediately saw Rick, he nodded in hello, and Rick responded in kind. Michonne and Denise stood nearby, and then Daryl saw Carl, holding "Lil' Ass Kicker" —Daryl's name for Judith —in his arms. Daryl smiled and nodded a hello to Carl. This was the first time he'd seen the kid since the morning of the disastrous herd march from the quarry, and he was glad to see the kid up and about. Daryl looked back at Carol and nodded for her to step inside.

"Good morning, Daryl, Carol," Rick said, confused as to what his two friends were doing here.

"Good morning," Carol said politely, but choosing to not address the others in the room by name.

"Is...something wrong?" Michonne asked curiously.

Daryl and Carol exchanged glances and looked at Rick. "We need to talk," Daryl said.

"In private," Carol added.

"What? Wait a second here," Denise said as she stepped forward. "This is my infirmary. You, of all people, don't have the right to barge in here and—"

"Denise," Rick interrupted.

The novice doctor stopped her rant and looked at Rick.

"Could you and Michonne please take my children outside?"

Denise's glare faded as she nodded in agreement.

"Michonne needs to hear this," Carol said sharply.

Rick and Michonne exchanged curious glances while Denise glared at Carol.

"Okay," Rick said cautiously.

Denise grumbled and waved a hand at Carl. "Come on, Carl. The adults need to talk."

Carl, with Judith cooing in his arms, reluctantly walked towards the front door, Denise close behind. Denise glared at Carol as she walked past, and Carol glared back at the novice doctor. Carl stood by the door, and Denise opened it and Carl stepped out onto the porch. Denise followed him and slammed the door; Judith began to cry and Denise began to curse in a low voice.

 

Rick lowered his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose, as Michonne walked towards his side. "Alright, what is it?"

Daryl folded his arms across his chest. "We're leavin'," he answered.

Rick lifted his head up, his eyes had gone wide. "You...you two are leaving Alexandria?"

"Not exactly," Daryl said.

"We're moving out of the house. Today," Carol said as she looked at Rick with all the courage she could muster.

Rick blinked and looked at Michonne, who was just as shocked. "Is this a joke?" he asked.

"Ha-ha," Daryl said, in an imitation of The Simpsons' Nelson Muntz's famous laugh.

Rick shook his head at Daryl's obnoxious behavior and looked at Carol, who shivered at the disproval in his eyes. "Can you explain to me what you two are talking about?"

Carol trembled slightly but kept her eye contact with Rick. "We told you already: we're moving out of the house."

"So consider this our two weeks' notice," Daryl added.

Rick glanced at Michonne and shook his head, "You two can't be serious."

Daryl grumbled and put his arm around Carol's shoulders. "We are, so adios."

Daryl turned around and began to guide Carol towards the front door. Rick shook his head in anger and began following them.

"Wait!" Michonne called out.

Michonne's three friends stopped in their tracks and turned to look at her.

"Are you two moving separately or together?"

Daryl and Carol looked at each other nervously.

"Together," Carol said confidently.

Michonne and Rick's jaws dropped.

"Is that against the law, Rick?" Daryl asked angrily.

"No...no," Rick muttered as he shook his head. "I mean...I know you two are friends, but..."

"Excuse me for prying, but are you two a...couple?" Michonne asked bewilderedly.

Daryl and Carol looked at each other again. Daryl realized he still had his arm around Carol's shoulders and he blushed and quickly pulled his arm away. "Shit. You could say that," he said.

Carol giggled.

Rick looked perplexed at his two friends. "When did this happen?"

Daryl swatted a hand at Rick, "What the hell are you doin', writtin' a report?"

"Sorry, but this is a bit of a surprise."

"Well, happy birthday," Daryl quipped.

"Daryl," Michonne scolded.

"Hey, we were decent enough to give you two a heads up, so you're welcome."

"Do you two really think you've done me a favor?" Rick asked, looking at Daryl and Carol like they were rude children. "I'm not just responsible for the group; I'm also responsible for the people of Alexandria. They're not going to like you two moving into a house that was owned by someone who just died."

"Rick's got a point," Mchonne added. "We've gone from protecting this community to running it. If we break up the group and move into vacant houses, it might start trouble."

 

"If that happens, we can reason with them," Carol said.

"That's an odd plan coming from you, Carol," Rick quipped.

Carol instantly went pale and looked at Rick wide-eyed. Daryl glared at Rick, and Michonne looked at him questioningly.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Michonne asked.

"Remember when we found Karen and David dead and burnt like kindling?" Rick asked. "Remember how we all thought they were killed by a psychopath hiding in the prison, but it turned out it was Carol."

Daryl glared at Rick, his eyes burning with rage. "You sanctimonious son of a bitch," he spat.

Michonne slowly turned towards Carol. "C-Carol...is...is it true?"

Carol lowered her head and nodded. "Yes," she whispered.

"She said she had to do something. She said she stood up," Rick continued, a contemptuous look on his face. "What she really did was kill two people who were counting on us to help them."

Michonne stared at Carol in disbelief. Carol kept her head down and wrapped her arms around her chest as if she were freezing. Daryl watched Carol's devastated reaction to Rick's rant, and he started to put his arm around her shoulders again, but she swatted his arm away and took a few steps back.

"Maybe if you hadn't of killed Karen and David, they could've been saved by the meds Daryl brought back!" Rick shouted. "Maybe we could've saved Hershel before the Governor decapitated him! Maybe we never would've lost the prison. Maybe Beth wouldn't have been kidnapped and she'd still be alive; maybe those two girls and Tyreese would be alive too. Maybe Carl never would've been shot in the face. Maybe everything that's happened since then has been your fault!"

POW!

Daryl's punch hit Rick's jaw dead center and he flew back and landed on the floor. Michonne blinked, unable to believe what she had just seen. Carol gasped and her hands clasped around her mouth, afraid to scream, and afraid of what might happen next.

Rick lifted his upper body up and shook the numbness out of his head. He looked up and as his blurred vision came into focus, saw an enraged Daryl standing over him.

Michonne knelt down beside Rick and helped him to a sitting position. She looked from Rick to Daryl, uncertain as to what she should do or say.

Rick burned with rage and began to stand up, but Michonne tightened her grip on his shoulders. "Rick, don't—"

"You really want to fight?!" Daryl shouted at Rick. "You really want me to put you in another coma?!"

Rick struggled to push Michonne away, but she forced him down onto his back again and he shouted with rage.

The front door flung open and Carl —holding Judith in his arms —and Denise ran inside. "Dad!" Carl shouted as Judith cried.

"Stay back, Carl!" Rick ordered.

Carl froze in place, Denise stood beside him, and Judith's cries rang throughout the infirmary. Carol turned around and ran outside.

"Go on. Move out," Rick ordered.

"We didn't need your permission to start with...officer," Daryl spat as he turned to leave.

"If any of those people complain to me about you two moving into a vacant house, I'm sending them to your front door."

"Does the castle doctrine apply in your fiefdom?" Daryl quipped.

"Go to hell!" Rick shouted.

Daryl gave Rick the Finger, stepped out onto the porch, and slammed the door behind him. He saw Carol, standing near the steps, her arms folded across her chest and her head down. He walked over to her, and gently placed his hand on her back; she looked up at him with tears running down her face.

"I'm sorry," Daryl muttered.

Carol wiped away her tears with her fingers and smiled softly.

Daryl slid his hand down to Carol's waist and he gently moved her forward. They walked down the steps and onto the street and they walked towards the group's house. In less than half an hour they'd pack their meager possessions and begin searching for their own home in Alexandria.

TO BE CONTINUED​

 

Thank you, Ricky.

Rick has a legitimate concern about Daryl and Carol moving into one of the vacant houses; the Alexandrians might not react well to that. Also, Rick's rant against Carol was a combination of exhaustion, guilt over Carl losing his eye and hating him again, and the fear that Daryl and Carol moving could cause trouble with the Alexandrians.

I'm happy with how the Daryl and Rick confrontation worked out. I enjoy the brotherhood between them, but I've always wanted to see some tension between them too. When you look back at my previous stories, you'll see that punch was a long time coming. :Grin:

 

Thanks, PepperAnn.

Carol's not exactly meek, she was just nervous about telling Rick that she and Daryl are moving out, and that they're a couple. To keep the group alive this long, Rick has had to be persuasive and cajoling, so Carol rightfully feared he would try to talk them out of their plan.

Daryl's also subconsciously being more affectionate towards Carol. You'll notice he had his arm around her shoulders for part of the conversation with Rick, and when he realized that, he blushed and pulled his arm away, which made her giggle. Daryl and Carol are in a positive relationship, but they're both carrying secrets they'll eventually need to reveal.

 

Thank you, TWT1.

One thing I hated about the two month time jump after "No Way Out" was how calm Carl was. The poor kid just lost an eye! He's deformed for life, however long that might last in the walker apocalypse, so I wrote Carl to be seriously depressed about his deformity and angry at his father. Remember that Rick taught Ron how to shoot, so in my story, I had Ron intentionally shoot Carl.

I enjoyed describing how Michonne is nudging herself into the Grimes' family. There might be a Richonne subplot here or in a future story.

Things won't be the same between Rick and Daryl. We'll see how that effects the group's chain of command.

 

Thanks, @OneCuteSmile.

I've always wanted to see some tension between Daryl and Rick, and we're finally seeing that happen here. Yes, Rick was wrong to pry into Daryl and Carol's relationship, and blame her for all the recent tragedies, but I'll chalk that up to exhaustion and guilt over what's happened to Carl.

That said, after "No Sanctuary" Rick somewhat admitted that Carol did the right thing in regards to Karen and David.

 

CHAPTER TWO​

"Dad, are you alright?" Carl asked, while holding his baby sister.

Rick breathed heavily and his skin still burnt with rage. "I'm fine, son," he grumbled.

"How's the jaw?" Michonne asked. Her knee was on Rick's stomach, and her hands were pressed against his shoulders, keeping him pinned to the infirmary's floor.

Rick touched his jaw and winced, and then he began to slowly rub the pain away. "Still in one piece," he muttered.

Michonne studied Rick carefully. "If I let you up, you're not going to run out there and challenge Daryl to a rematch, right?"

Rick closed his eyes and huffed. "Right."

Michonne smiled. "Good, because after your last fight, I don't think you can take any more blows to the head."

Michonne took her knee off Rick's stomach, and offered him a hand; he accepted and she pulled him up as she rose to her feet. Rick nodded his thanks and rubbed his jaw again. Judith continued to cry, and Carl gently rocked her in his arms as he stood beside his father and Michonne. Denis stood away from the small group and glanced out the window, as Daryl and Carol walked down the street.

"Can I get you some ice, Rick?" Denise asked.

"Please," Rick answered.

Denise walked towards the refrigerator, took a cold pack out of the freezer, and gave it to Rick, who pressed the cold pack against his jaw.

"What did Carol do?" Denise blurted out.

Rick looked at Denise, surprised by her question.

"Oh, don't act like you just had a polite conversation," Denise quipped as confidence flooded her voice and posture. "Carl and I heard you say that Carol killed two sick people back when your group lived in that prison down in Georgia."

Rick sighed with regret and lowered his hand holding the cold pack to his side. "Denise, it's...complicated."

"What's so complicated about murder? It's a crime, and we're trying to build a community where people respect the law. Or are we building a community where the law doesn't apply to certain people?"

"Denise, things....aren't black and white anymore," Rick explained. "I thought they were for the longest time...but I was wrong."

"That's a strange thing for a police officer to say," Denise quipped.

Michonne took a step towards Denise, and raised a hand signaling her to stop talking. "Wait a minute—"

"No, I'm not going to shut up and walk away from this one. I'm Alexandria's new doctor, and I want to know why that bitch killed two invalids!"

Rick looked at Denise, and she looked at him. He could tell right away that she was serious about knowing what happened with Carol and the prison.

 

"Michonne, could you and Carl go on that perimeter check?" Rick asked.

"Sure," Michonne answered with a nod. "Let's go, Carl."

"I want to hear this," Carl insisted.

Rick sighed wearily. "Carl, we'll talk—"

"Later," Carl interrupted. "It's either later or not at all. Fine, whatever you're hiding from me is probably going to blow up this town like everyplace else anyway."

"What?" Rick asked as he glared at his son. "Do you think that I...Do you think it's easy..."

Michonne walked over to Carl and stood between him and his father. Carl looked up at the deadly woman, and gulped fearfully.

"We're burning daylight, Pilgrim," Michonne said, as she playfully tugged down the brim of his Stetson hat.

Carl pushed his Stetson hat back in place and huffed. "Right."

Carl walked past Michonne and carefully placed Judith inside her crib. Michonne walked over to the examination table, picked up her katana, slung it over her back, and looked at Carl.

"Ready to go?" Michonne asked.

Carl nodded and said nothing.

Michonne led the way to the door. She opened the door and stepped aside for Carl to leave the infirmary first. Carl walked across the floor and out the door; he didn't stop to look at, or say goodbye to, his father. Michonne glanced at Rick, nodded a goodbye, and closed the door behind her.

Rick lowered his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was shaping up to be a long day, and looking over at Denise, it was going to be even longer.

"Like everyplace else?" Denise asked bewilderedly. "Just how many places has your group stayed before Aaron brought all of you here?"

Rick looked out the window as Carl and Michonne walked towards the wall; and then he looked at Denise. "If you want to hear Carol's story, you'll have to hear mine, because I can't tell one without the other."

"Just tell me the truth."

Rick pointed at the kitchen. "Pour yourself a cup of coffee and take a seat."

Denise walked into the kitchen, and Rick followed.

 

Daryl leaned against the vestibule wall of the group's house, his canvas backpack at his feet. He had lived a nomadic lifestyle with his big brother Merle, so he was used to traveling light. The backpack contained toiletries, spare socks and boxers; a sharpening stone for his knives, a dozen arrows for his Stryker Strykezone 380 crossbow that had been stolen, and one book: Treating Survivors of Childhood Abuse. Daryl took the book from the battered women's shelter he and Carol spent the night in during their search for Beth. He knew something was bothering Carol, and he knew from experience that if he asked, she'd refused to answer, so he hopped the book might help. Daryl had skimmed through it, and even though he always enjoyed reading, he found this particular book to be a chore. But he was going to man up and read it cover to cover, long as it helped Carol.

You can help her, but you can't help yourself.

Daryl huffed and folded his arms across his chest, angry at his sudden thought.

How much longer can you keep your secrets from her, dumbass?

Daryl glared at the floor mat, and tried to stop his conscience from berating him.

You never told Carol your story. Hell, you only told Beth part of it.

Daryl frowned. Carol knew he was white trash, the whole group knew. It didn't matter, especially to her.

I ain't talkin' about bein' white trash, I'm talkin' about what you and Merle were, and what you both were plannin' to do."

Daryl shut his eyes and lowered his head. He and Merle were drug runners, not dealers; it's not like they sold it to junkies. And that plan about stealing the group's supplies was Merle's.

You wouldn't have stopped him. When Mere said 'Jump', you said "How high?" You'd have taken their guns and supplies and left them to starve.

Daryl opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling. Merle's plan never happened and that's what mattered.

So when Carol comes down those stairs, why don't you tell her about Merle's plan? I'm sure she'll understand...just like when you failed to find Sophia.

Daryl shouted in rage and stomped out of the vestibule and into the living room. He didn't need to be reminded of his criminal background, Merle's harebrained scheme, and his failure to save Sophia. The memory of Sophia hurt most of all: the days searching the woods, getting injured and shot, the false hope he gave Carol, only to discover her daughter had turned and was kept inside Hershel's barn the whole time. It was no surprise Carol hadn't spoke Sophia's name since the funeral; it was like being stabbed in the heart with a dull knife.

A door opened on the second floor of the house. "Daryl?" Carol called worriedly.

 

Daryl walked into the foyer and looked up the staircase. "I'm fine," he grumbled. "Just can't...wait to get the hell out of here."

Footsteps sounded on the second floor hallway, and Daryl saw Carol at the top of the staircase, with a heavy duffel bag across her shoulder.

"Well, I just finished packing. There's no reason for us to stay in this house another minute."

Daryl looked at the duffel bag and he felt his anger start to fade. He knew inside that duffel bag were the cardigan sweaters, dress shirts and pants, that Olivia; Alexandria's cook and armory caretaker, had given her soon after the group arrived. When Daryl first saw Carol wearing those clothes, one thought ran through his mind: You look ridiculous.

Daryl hoped that Carol had packed along her cotton pullover shirt, green cargo pants, and her pair of buckles down, tall boots; she looked hot wearing those.

Carol walked down the staircase and stood beside Daryl. "How's the hand?" she asked.

Daryl raised his right hand and moved his fingers. "Still hurts. Rick's jaw is like his head: thick."

Carol giggled.

"How about you, you okay?" Daryl asked.

Carol put her hand on the back of Daryl's head, pulled him gently towards her, and kissed his forehead.

Daryl blushed and scratched his temple.

Carol smiled her pixie smile. "That was for punching Rick. It was mean...but it was also the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."

Daryl grinned and glanced to his left and right. "Well, we've always looked out for each other, right?"

"Right," Carol agreed.

"All set?" Daryl asked.

Carol looked over her shoulder at the living room, as her hands clutched the strap to her duffel bag. "Let's go."

Daryl picked up his canvas backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He reached for the doorknob, turned it and opened the door, and stepped aside for Carol to walk past him. Carol walked out onto the porch. Daryl took one last look at the interior of the group's home. "Hasta la vista, assholes," he said, and slammed the door behind him.

 

Daryl stood beside Carol, shaded from the sun by the porch roof, looking out at the town of Alexandria, and the exciting prospect of starting over together.

"So where do you want to start?" Daryl asked.

Carol looked at Daryl.

"Hey, I wasn't a home owner," Daryl explained as he raised his arms up to signal a stop. "I thought you'd have more experience in this sort of thin'."

Carol smiled and looked at the neighborhood. "How about the house across the street?" she suggested.

Daryl took a step forward and looked at the vacant house. "Who lived there?"

"Shelly," Carol answered sadly.

"The pasta lady?" Daryl asked. "I didn't think your first choice in houses would be hers."

"It's not my dream house, and I'm not comfortable with looking through the homes of strangers, so maybe starting out at the house of someone I barely knew, might make this process easier."

Carol walked down the steps, and Daryl followed. They walked across the street and up the steps of Shelly's house. Daryl stopped at the door and unsheathed his shop knife. "Don't worry," he glanced over his shoulder at Carol. "I've got the key right here."

Daryl leaned against the door, and prepared to slide his knife in-between the door and the door frame, when Carol tapped him on his shoulder. Daryl stood straight and looked bewilderedly at Carol, who raised a finger to signal a pause, stepped towards the door. She put her hand around the door knob, turned it, and pushed; the door swung open.

Daryl blushed and lowered his head, "Yeah," he muttered bashfully.

Carol smiled and prepared to enter the house, but Daryl stuck his left arm in front of her. "Let me go first," he whispered. "We don't know if Chef Boyardee is hole up in there."

Daryl dropped his canvas backpack inside the vestibule and took a cautious step inside the house, his right hand holding the shop knife and ready to stab any threat that appeared. Daryl walked deeper into the house, then looked over his shoulder at Carol, and nodded for her to follow. Carol stepped into the house, unslung her duffel bag and quietly placed it beside Daryl's backpack. She then unsheathed her trench knife, and she and Daryl cautiously searched Shelly's house for walkers.