Daryl was counting supplies. He and Carol were doing this job together, but she had started in the kitchen and probably wouldn't be joining him in the pantry for another fifteen minutes or so. When he heard footsteps behind him he dismissed them, assuming that he had miscalculated Carol's efficiency. "Are you and my dad sleeping together?" Daryl dropped his clipboard onto the ground and whirled around. Carl was standing in the pantry's doorway, looking as nonchalant as you please. "Zack said you are. He said Beth overheard Maggie telling Glenn that you and my dad are having sex and that Glenn's an idiot for not noticing on his own."

"Maggie said that huh?"

"Yeah, and Beth heard her, and she told Zack, and he told me."

"Well Zack has a big mouth, and so does Beth, and Maggie too for that matter."

"So are you?"

Daryl was tempted to stall with an 'am I what,' but he respected Carl too much to treat him like a stupid kid. "Shouldn't you be asking your dad about this," Daryl asked the child.

"Ew, I'm not going to ask my dad about sex. That's gross."

"But you'll ask me?" That made no sense to Daryl.

"Sure, you're cool."

Daryl wanted to shake his head, but he restrained himself. "If I'm going to answer your question will you answer one for me first?" Daryl wanted to run far, far away, but with Carl blocking the door that wasn't an option. He would have to deal with this, alone.

"Only if you promise to answer mine after," Carl said.

"I promise," Daryl said.

"Go ahead," Carl said.

"If I am sleeping with your dad, hypothetically, does that bother you?"

"Well, hypothetically, do you love my dad?"

Daryl's breath caught in his throat. "Very much."

"And hypothetically, do you make him happy?"

"I hope so."

"And does he, hypothetically, make you happy?"

Daryl felt like the walls were closing in on him, but he stayed strong. "Very much."

"And would you ever do anything to hurt him, hypothetically?"

"No, I never would. I would never hurt anybody in this family, hypothetically."

"Then I guess I wouldn't mind. Even if it is kind of weird. I guess I thought if my dad ever did find someone again it would be someone like mom. But I really like you," Carl said.

Daryl couldn't help but to smile. "Thank you," Daryl said.

"So?"

"So what?"

Carl sighed. "Grown-ups," he mumbled. "Are you?"

"Oh right, I got lost in all of those hypotheticals. Yes, we are."

"Well," Carl said. "Since you're kind of like my stepmom now-"

"Stepdad if anything," Daryl said in an affronted tone.

Carl shrugged. "Whatever, since you're my stepdad now you have to take me hunting."

"Why is that the rule," Daryl asked.

"You have to bond with your step kids, duh. This is all written down somewhere."

"I think you're lying, but we'll go hunting again."

"Sweet, see you later."

Daryl watched Carl run off. He couldn't quite believe what had just happened. Had Carl really just given him his blessing? Was he really being so blasé about the matter? Daryl walked out of the pantry and saw Carol standing there. He sighed. "You heard all of that, didn't you?"

Carol nodded, a huge cheeky grin on her face. "Yep,"

"Why didn't you help?"

"If you had needed my help I would have," Carol said. "Come on, we have work to do."

Daryl nodded and got back to work. Working with Carol calmed him. She chatted about supplies, new people and job rotations. Daryl lost himself in her voice. He absorbed everything she said, knowing he never had to respond unless he wanted to. When the inventory was done Daryl took his leave. Daryl made his way to C block. Beth was playing with Judith. Beth had brought out the blocks that Daryl had brought back from one of his runs. Beth would hand the blocks to Judith and try to get her to place them to spell out people's names. Judith just stuck the wooden toy into her mouth and gummed it. Beth giggled. She handed Judith another block and explained that it was a B for Beth. "This is an e, and a t, and an h. When you put them together they spell Beth. That's me." Judith stared at Beth with large uncomprehending eyes. "Got it?"

Daryl snorted in amusement. "I don't think she does."

Beth rolled her eyes. "I know that, but early exposure to language is good for babies."

"Yeah?" Daryl walked up and scooped the infant into his arms. Judith shrieked with delight, loudly. Several people poked their heads out of their cells, but Daryl ignored them.

"Yeah," Beth said. "I read about it in a book."

Daryl bounced Judith in his arms. "When were you reading baby books?" Judith laughed and shrieked some more. Spit bubbles formed at her mouth and Daryl gently wiped them away.

"I was thinking about majoring in early childhood development when I went to college."

Daryl nodded at Judith. "Beth's a baby expert Judy, ain't that lucky for you?"

"Don't say ain't to her. I want her to only pick up proper English," Beth said.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "In Georgia that is proper English."

Beth rolled her eyes right back. "Whatever, so how about you?"

"How about me what?"

"Why are you so good with babies?"

Daryl shrugged. He'd never really thought he was. Judith seemed tuckered out from all of her laughing and shrieking, and she was now tucked against his chest. Daryl could feel her tiny heartbeat and shallow breaths. "Little Asskicker and me are just kindred spirits is all," he said.

Beth scrutinized him. "Did you have one, before?"

Daryl stared at the young woman for a few moments before shaking his head. "No."

"Did Merle? Were you an uncle?"

Daryl shook his head again. "If he ever had a kid neither of us knew about it."

Beth wrinkled her nose in distaste at the implication of that. "Little brother or sister?"

"I was the youngest," Daryl said.

"There has to be some reason you're so good with babies."

"Maybe it's just paternal instinct," Daryl said.

Beth shrugged. "Maybe. Do you have her? I'm going to look for Zack."

Daryl nodded. "Get out of here girl." Daryl waited a few moments before hollering after her loud enough for everybody to hear. "Don't do anything your daddy wouldn't approve of!"

Beth turned around and stuck her tongue out at him before disappearing. Daryl snickered as he took Judith up to the perch, scooping up her duck toy as he climbed. Judith snuggled tighter into him, using him as a space heater and a blanket. Daryl sat down with her cradled in his arms.

"Listen girlie, that dating thing isn't going to work when you get that age. I don't want you messing with any boys. They are loud, gross and obnoxious. Trust me, they ain't worth it."

"Thanks." Daryl looked up and saw that Rick was standing there, grinning.

"You're the exception," Daryl assured him.

Rick sat down next to him. Daryl handed Rick his daughter. Rick held the baby close to him and whispered to her. "He's right. No dating for you until you're twenty-one."

"Twenty-five," Daryl said.

Rick laughed. "You heard the man."

"So Carl-"

"Told me," Rick interrupted. "He said you didn't like being called stepmom."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Kid thinks he's hilarious."

"He told me he's glad I'm happy, even if it's not with Michonne. He was really gunning for that apparently." Rick smirked at Daryl. Daryl shook his head. "But you're pretty good too."

Daryl could just picture Carl saying that. "So you are?"

Rick gave Daryl an inquisitive look. "Are what?"

"Happy,"

Rick smiled at Daryl. He leaned forward and gave him a chaste kiss. "Very."

"Good," Daryl said. He smiled at Rick. "That's good."

"And you?"

Daryl gently brushed one of Judith's soft tufts of hair from her eyes. "I'm happy too."

…

Later

The smell was awful. It was salt and copper, and it was a horrific breed of familiarity to a hunter. There wasn't anything unique about the smell of human blood, but knowing that it was human made all the difference. Knowing that it was yours, that it was leaking out of you without your permission and you could do nothing about it, was the worst part. Yet he would gladly endure the scent of his own blood in his nostrils, the sensation of a ton of bricks on his lungs and the pain that traveled up and down his body like an electric shock if it only meant that he would get to stop hearing that accursed sound. If he didn't have to hear her cry out in pain anymore then he would gladly die here. However, he had to endure both. The one-eyed man was here and he had no intention of letting up anytime soon. The one-eyed man derived his pleasure from their suffering. The one-eyed man would draw out that suffering as long as he could. He would torture them until their minds broke and their souls shriveled up like rotten fruit in the hot sun. When a body was all that remained, only then would they be allowed to die. When there was nothing left but desecrated flesh torn into strips hanging over pools of blood, then they would get to die.

He felt a hand grip his chin. It was his turn again. It was his turn to feel the fist, or the knife or maybe even the whip again. He heard laughter and felt breath on his skin. The stink of gingivitis distracted from the scent of blood, but not nearly enough. "I wonder what your brother would say if he could see this? Do you think he would regret throwing away his life for you?"

He wanted to tell the one-eyed man off, but even if he could be comprehensible through the gag he wasn't sure if he had the energy for speech. Breathing was hard enough on its own.

"Well, let's get back to it, shall we?"