This has been percolating for a while. I started it after 4 x 04 (Indifference), so it's AU after that point – no tanks, no governor, nobody dead that wasn't dead already. It also follows with the idea that Carol did kill Karen and David (which I don't believe – sorry, that ain't her).

It was heavily influenced – in my mind as I wrote it anyway – by two songs. I don't know if it means anything when put by the finished product, but I'm leaving some snippets here anyway.

I'd also like to say thanks to everyone who's been reading my work. It truly makes my heart sing. And the kind words have been overwhelming. Thank you!

All For Love – Serena Ryder

Stepping through the hole where the moon don't shine

Spent too long trying to make him mine

Kept on running but I fell behind

Butterfly better fly away this time

It wasn't the abandonment that spurred her tears. Carol didn't feel fear anymore, so being left on her own was just another shitty problem in her shitty life. She would live or she wouldn't, just like the rest of them.

What cut her so deeply was that Rick told her no one would want her there at the prison.

No one wanted her. Story of her life.

Well, if she was going to be left behind, fine. Before, she would have been dead within a day. Now she might make it for a while, so she'd best go find a new place to be.

She'd driven the crappy station wagon only a short while before she decided just to stop. Here was as good as anywhere. She turned down a residential side street and found a driveway that led to a gated fence. That would hide the car from casual observers who might wander through. After pulling the car as far back onto the property as she could, she got ready to clear the house. She made sure her gun was loaded and ready, took her knife and flashlight in hand, and stepped softly toward the house's back door.

The door was slightly ajar, which could mean a lot of things, none of them particularly good. But there was plenty of undisturbed dust and debris at the base of the door so no one had been through in a good long while. She slipped through the doorway and stopped to let her eyes adjust to the gloom. It was a one story ranch style house, so it shouldn't take long to clear. She crept room to room, looking for anything alive. Or at least moving. She found no walkers, but the back bedroom contained the remains of two people, probably the former owners who had ended things before something else took that choice away from them. She closed the door.

The couple must have been older, and from the photos still hanging on the walls in the hallway, they'd had three children, now grown. She touched the smiling faces of the people in the photos, leaving marks in the dust covering the glass. She wondered if any of them were still alive somewhere.

The other two bedrooms were no longer bedrooms. One was a craft room stuffed with bins of fabric and the other was a small office. She also found a door leading to a basement that appeared to have been used as a massive pantry for home canned foods. Her heart leaped at the sight of so much food. There was more food here than anyone had brought back from a single run in ages.

She paused at the thought. It didn't matter anymore. She didn't live there. She lived here now.

Once she felt sure that she was alone in the house, she brought some of her things in from the car. She left half of it in case she needed to make a hurried exit. She spent the rest of the day covering all the doors and windows and moving as much furniture as she could move to block any potential entry points. The little couch in the office converted into a bed, so she stole the awful mattress from it, dragging it downstairs to her new basement home, along with everything she could carry from the little linen closet in the hall.

Carol had trouble sleeping that night. It was far too quiet here. She was used to the close quarters at the prison, so every tiny sound here seemed huge and threatening. She would get used to it.

Over the next few days, she set about scavenging from every house nearby. She even returned to the cul-de-sac where Rick had abandoned her. She wanted those peaches from that greenhouse. Each day she brought back more things to make her basement safer and more comfortable, from knives and gasoline to books and a memory foam pillow that was so comfortable it made her want to cry. It was actually kind of nice being there. But the silence was still disturbing, and she didn't sleep well.

It had been several days since she was on her own. She'd forgotten to keep track, and now she wasn't sure how long it had been. Two weeks? Ten days? She didn't know. She had no immediate need of anything, but she found it difficult to stay put, so she kept raiding houses each day, bringing back more things. She finally decided she was putting herself into more danger than she needed to. Sure, she'd been fine so far, killing every walker she'd encountered without any close calls. But sooner or later, she'd run out of luck.

One more house. She'd hit one more house before she headed back. It was the last one on the block. She used the front door rather than dealing with the high fence that cut her off from the back yard. She worked her way through the house, upstairs and down, killing three walkers. There wasn't a whole lot of food left, but she took what was there. Plus she scrounged up some batteries and matches, so it wasn't a total bust. It would be dusk soon, and she didn't want to risk being out at night. It was time to go home.

Closing the door quietly behind her, she left the house to carry her haul back to the car. She stopped abruptly and reached to her belt for her weapon when she saw the driver's side door was open. Someone was leaned into the vehicle, rummaging around in the front seat.

It was Daryl.

It was so unexpected, she found herself unable to react. She stood on the front walk of the dilapidated house, pack slung over one shoulder, one hand on her knife. He extracted himself from the car and stood, looking around anxiously, obviously aware this was her car. When he saw her, he froze for just a moment. Then, glancing around quickly to scan for threats, he rounded the vehicle at a trot, but by the time he reached her, he was nearly running. He swept her up in a rib cracking hug. Just as she was sure she would suffocate, he loosened his hold and kissed her temple. Then he pulled back, holding her at arms' length.

"Thought I'd never see you again!" His eyes roamed over her, checking to make sure she was really there and unhurt. He was smiling – at least as much as he ever did. She smiled back. It was good to see him, though she didn't understand how he could be here. He smothered her in another hug. This seemed overly demonstrative for him which was unsettling when her mind was already whirling in confusion.

"What are you doing here?" she asked after she extracted herself.

"Lookin' for you. I been lookin' ever since Rick told me he'd left you."

Their voices had drawn some attention. A few walkers appeared from behind fences and around corners.

"Is the house clear? We should get inside before this gets crowded." His eyes scanned around them, marking each threat.

Carol nodded. She turned and led the way, scooping up her pack and drawing her knife. They managed to slip inside without any direct confrontations. Much of the house had already been boarded up from whomever had sheltered here last. They barricaded the door with furniture and checked the rest of the first floor to make sure there was no other way in. Then they made their way upstairs so their voices wouldn't carry through the door to the few walkers that had followed them to the porch.

The master bedroom was spacious and airy, or would be if it wasn't musty from being closed up and abandoned for so long. The many windows would have been a danger on the ground floor, but here it was safe enough – at least for now. Carol sheathed her knife and dropped her pack. Daryl was looking at her like he still didn't believe she was there. She looked back at him, curious.

"Seriously, what are you doing here?" she asked.

He frowned. "I told you. I came lookin' as soon as Rick said what he did. Wasn't gonna leave you out here alone."

"I'm fine."

"I don't care if you're 'fine'. I ain't leavin' you alone."

Carol sighed and held her hands up in surrender. "OK fine. Let's just get settled in for the night. Those walkers should wander off by morning. I haven't slept much the last few days."

She smiled, trying to ease the sharp edge that had crept into their conversation. She didn't want to fight. Daryl's shoulders relaxed, and he nodded.

"You hungry?" she asked.

He shrugged, so she dug into her pack and pulled out a couple of cans of alphabet soup and a tin of Spam.

He eyed the Spam warily. "You gonna eat that?"

"Beggars, choosers? Besides, it's got to be better than possum."

Sitting on the floor, leaning against the end of the ridiculously large and boxy contemporary style bed, they opened their cans and ate the food cold in companionable silence. It was getting too dark to see, so Carol poked around until she found some candles. They were the long-burning air freshener kind that made the room smell like mangoes if mangoes were made of burning plastic. But it was all she could find, and it was better than using up the batteries in her flashlight.

Leaning her head back against the bed, she looked at Daryl beside her. "You know, I didn't think I'd ever see you again, either. I'm glad I was wrong. It's really good to see you."

He looked back at her. His face twitched, a strange expression rippling over his features. Looking down, he clenched his jaw.

"I missed you." His voice was ragged, rougher than usual.

She smiled and leaned sideways to bump his shoulder with hers. "I missed you, too."

He straightened suddenly and turned to her, apparently making his mind up about something. His hand reached tentatively for her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. Eyes shifting nervously, he leaned over to press his lips softly to hers. The kiss was hesitant and gentle. He left his hand on her cheek when he pulled back.

"Daryl?" She touched his elbow.

He looked down again, avoiding her eyes while he spoke. "This is the second time I thought I lost you. I ain't fuckin' this up again."

When she didn't answer right away, he tried to pull his hand back, but she caught and held it. She stood and pulled him up after her. Slipping her arms around his waist, she tipped her chin up in invitation. He put his arms around her carefully, as though afraid she might break or evaporate. Smiling, she leaned toward him, and he finally took the hint and kissed her again.

This time, there was less hesitation. At first it was small, exploratory kisses as they got used to the feel of each other. Carol could feel her cheeks flush as her body warmed to him. When his tongue flicked out to taste her, she pressed herself hard against him, wrapping her arms around his neck, running her fingers in his hair, and kissing him deeply. His arms tightened around her, and he made a little sound deep in his throat that made heat rush to her belly. She liked that sound. She wanted him to make more sounds like it.

His hands began to roam, exploring her body tentatively. They found the dip of her waist, the curve of her hip. They wandered up along her ribs and his thumbs brushed the undersides of her breasts, leaving her nipples aching, wanting more.

She dropped her hands to the buttons on his shirt, fingers fumbling them open in her hurry to find more skin. When she had the last one open, she slipped her arms inside and around his waist, pressing her nose to his collarbone, breathing him in. She'd always used every chance she had to smell him – when she rode behind him on his bike, leaning over him to dish food onto his plate...hell, she even sneaked shirts out of his laundry sometimes. But being able to breathe him in directly, skin to skin, was deliciously arousing. She let her hands glide up over his chest to his shoulders, pushing his clothing back. He dropped his arms to the sides, letting his shirt and leather vest fall to the floor.

Glancing up, she reveled in the heat burning behind his eyes. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders and chest, letting her mouth follow, tasting his skin and exploring the textures there – the roughness of the hair, the pebbling of his nipples, his smooth skin, and the scars that marred it. He moved to hold her again, but she ran her hands down his arms, pushing them back to his sides. Holding his wrists, she looked back up into his eyes. She watched him while she moved her hands to his belt. When her fingers slipped under his waistband, his breath hitched. His lips parted as he breathed erratically, and she thought he was perfect just like this – flushed and rumpled. She kissed him hard as she worked open the button fly. Sliding her hands flat along his belly, she eased down his pants and boxers. He groaned into her mouth as the fabric moved against his erection.

Another sound. She liked that one, too.

She lowered herself to her knees as she pushed his clothes out of her way. He tried to reach for her then, to pull her back to her feet. But she caught his hands and placed them at his sides again.

"Carol-" his breath was coming hard.

"Hush. Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do this?" She ran the flats of her hands up his thighs and raked her nails softly down them again, making him shiver. His cock was straining towards her, begging to be tasted. She wrapped a hand around it, stroking its length and running her thumb over the dripping tip. She followed her thumb with a stroke of her tongue. His head tipped back as he moaned her name.

Mmmm, she really liked that sound.

She took him into her mouth as far as she could. His hands worked at his sides, clenching and unclenching as he struggled for control. But she didn't want him in control. She wanted him raw and crying out with pleasure that she could bring him. She licked and sucked and worked him until she could feel him coiling up. It didn't take long.

"Carol, I can't – I can't...oh, fuck!"

He came then, his cock pulsing in her mouth as she drank him in. He shuddered and groaned, hands reaching for her, but not touching. He wobbled on his feet, struggling to stay upright as he was rocked by his orgasm.

"God, Carol! Jesus fuck!"

When she let him go, he collapsed back to sit on the end of the bed, still shaking and breathing hard. His eyes were squeezed tight. He reached blindly forward with one hand until he found her shoulder. He held on with a crushing grip that was just shy of painful. When he finally slowed his breathing a bit and relaxed his grip, she worked his feet free from the tangle of boots and pants, dropping the last of his clothes to the floor. She liked this, too, being fully dressed while he was naked in front of her. She stood with her hips between his thighs, reaching to frame his face with her hands.

He opened his eyes and raised them up to get lost in hers. His beautiful body was sheened with sweat and his hands came up to rest on her hips. Then he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face between her breasts.

His voice was rough and muffled by her shirt. "I tried to hold on, I'm sorry. I couldn't."

"Don't be silly, pookie." She stroked her fingers through his hair and smiled. "I didn't give you a lot of choice. I've wanted to do that for a long, long time."

He went very still for just a second before snorting a laugh.

"Besides," she added. "That was just round one."