AN/ Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead.

I think this is the last chapter of Rare and Welcome, so I hope you all like it. I will probably want to start a new series after this season's finale, I love writing new storylines that speculate about what the show doesn't show us.

I realize this rather mirrors the first episode of Season 3, but I really wanted it to be their last hurrah before they're cornered on every side by walkers, and have that first episode be a continuation of this celebration. I know all of this is non-canon, but I try to be fairly accurate to the characters and story.

Just a warning, there's some graphic-ish walker activity in this one, but I don't think you'd be reading this if you were sensitive to zombies. :P

Without further preamble, here's the last chapter. Enjoy!

Escape

It wasn't going to last long, and everyone knew it. The herds were still on the move, looking for their next meal. They eagerly yet slowly ambled their way through forests, drug across fields, and hobbled along streams.

When they came to Saddle Creek, the group were relaxing outside. A low fire was built, but the crisp new spring air was being enjoyed. Beth's face was illuminated, a pretty orange and gold, her bright eyes flashing in the firelight. She sung beautifully, with no accompaniment, her voice clean and youthful, to match the new season. Everyone's spirits were high, they'd spent a week at the house, and all was well. Glenn and Maggie sat tangled together on a wide adirondack chair. T-Dog's head rested in his palms lying back on the tall grass, taking deep purposeful breaths. Lori and Rick even exchanged a small smile.

Daryl emerged from the forest, a raccoon slung over his shoulder. He crept closer, without drawing too much attention to himself. Smiles were tossed his way, in a silent "glad you're back" gesture, but it was Carol's that was the largest. He sidled up next to her and nodded. He felt more comfortable with Carol lately. The butterflies subsided the more time they spent together. His original avoidance strategy was the wrong one to choose, it seemed. Her big smile still rested upon him, and her hand came up to graze his forearm. It didn't matter to her that he was caked with dirt and mud, she was still happy to see him. Still wearing that damned new sweater.

"Great timing, we're all relaxing. Here, sit with me." She urged, gently tugging his arm as she sat down in the uncut grass.

Daryl set the carcass down and sat down next to her, their knees brushing together.

"I think T's got the right idea…" she pointed over where he was lying by the fire. She slowly reclined back and rested her head in her hands.

Daryl wasn't entirely sure what to do other than follow her lead, and he lowered himself into the dewy grass. The tall shoots obscured her from his view, so he stared up at the clear night sky, the stars glimmering so far away. He wondered what it would be like to be out there, swimming in that vast space. He dreamt of touching that black velvet with curious hands.

"Daryl?" Her voice interrupted his dreaming.

"Hm?" He saw her hand reach out, swiping at the grass to see him. Her face was slowly revealed, along with her shoulders and lithe arm, swatting at the stray blades still obscuring her vision of him. He saw her mouth drop open slightly, but she didn't say anything right away.

"I feel like I should tell you something. But I'm scared to. Does that make sense?"

He nodded. He knew exactly what she was talking about.

She scooted closer. His stomach flipped. She propped herself up on an elbow, and was nearly looming over him. He looked up at her face with hesitation, Beth's clear and smooth voice adding even more ethereal ambiance to the evening. She looked conflicted, unsure of what she was doing. Neither of them said a word.

Her hand came up to touch his cheek, which made him flinch at the sudden movement. Her eyes darted over to meet his, in a silent apology. Her smooth thumb glided over his cheekbone, and he wasn't sure, but he could have sworn she'd gotten closer. Fighting with his better instinct, he brought his own hand up to touch hers, grasping it gently.

"Daryl, I…" She abandoned her words, and leaned in even further, their breaths mingling. She was so close.

A scream tore across the lawn, and they jumped apart like the wrong ends of a magnet. Daryl leapt to his feet, grabbing Carol by the arm at just the right moment to usher her away from the walker headed straight for the raccoon carcass, and presumably them. The undead dove on the deceased creature, tearing its head clean off and sinking its rotted teeth into the neck.

The group was scrambling. There was no clear direction they were coming from, they appeared to be surrounded. There was hurried gunfire at walkers that got too close, a quick solution when knives seemed too risky. However, the ruckus only brought more of them near, and they came from every angle.

Daryl let a crossbow bolt fly and with a low thunk it landed smack in the skull of a walker that was getting too close. Carol held her gun out in front of her, shaking from the sudden surge of adrenaline. She wasn't able to aim at all, her hands betrayed her with their trembling as she gripped the pistol. She'd been trained, but not well enough. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rick push an errant walker into the fire, putting it out with the flesh of the undead. The damned thing growled in higher pitch, its rumpled skin being seared clean off.

"We have to go!" Rick shouted, grabbing a rifle that got dropped on the ground.

"C'mon." Daryl pulled Carol, arms still thrusting her pistol out in defense. His bike was nearby, parked on the lawn. He threw his leg over and started the engine.

"What about the supplies!?" Lori's voice could be heard over the clamor.

"Leave them!" Rick's orders were acknowledged, everyone piling into cars and heading for the road.

Carol pulled herself close to Daryl on the bike. She felt too scared to be sad about the group's interrupted reverie and the loss of their temporary home, but she was angry that she'd choked when it came to using her gun. She made a silent oath to herself that she'd never hesitate again.

Daryl hadn't left yet, he was waiting for everyone to get in their cars, his neck twisted around to the right and behind him, his finger on the trigger of his crossbow. He wasn't watching his other side, but Carol was. As a rogue walker approached, picking up its pace as it sensed prey, Carol cupped Daryl's left ear as she lifted her right arm over his shoulder and fired at the approaching undead. It dropped in a heap, black blood spurting from its head wound.

Daryl noticed what she'd done, and couldn't help but crack a smile. Always looking out for him, that one.