Welcome back, y'all. I have NOT given up on this story, and I just wanted to get something up to prove it to y'all! This is pretty short, but I promise I'll be back soon with a proper chapter. Think of this as a little interlude.

And I went ahead and took the liberty of fast forwarding a little bit, so we're now at the prison... Anyway, enjoy! Make sure to review!

Sadly, I don't own The Walking Dead.

Carol never cared much for Dave Matthews. She found his music too unstructured, too complex and thought it rambled on for far too long. She liked her music simple and concise. Reliable. When she listened to a song, she wanted to be able to understand it; to know she could pick it apart, word for word, note for note. She couldn't do that with Dave Matthews. With any jam band, really.

But that was before.

Music had become a luxury, a rare commodity.

So, when she found a copy of the Dave Matthews Band's The Central Park Concert hidden in a drawer of one of the administrative offices, she was overjoyed.

Ever since the first day, she had been carrying around an unopened pack of batteries. In the chaos and confusion of trying to pack a bag for the apocalypse, she had grabbed them. She thought, as time wore on, that maybe they could have some value. That maybe she could trade them for something more useful or break them out during some crisis, and they would just magically solve everything, and she could be some sort of hero.

Of course, nothing like that had happened.

But as she turned the CD over in her hands, she was glad. Now, she had a use for them that was more important than she could have ever imagined.

She stuffed the CD into her bag and hurried through the catacombs until she reached the cell block where they had taken up residence. With a sense of urgency she hadn't known in weeks, she looked for Daryl. She found him atop the metal stairs, wiping dirt off of one of the windows that looked out over the prison yard. Without a word, she grabbed his wrist and led him away. Together, they slipped into her cell and drew the sheet she had hung up in the doorway, shutting them off from the rest of the group.

The radio was hidden underneath her bed, nestled between spare jackets. Another remnant of her former life she had meant to leave behind, but never found the strength to. The batteries inside still had some juice in them. She just had never been able to find a CD. But now she had one. Daryl watched with muted interest until he realized what she was doing. And when he did, he couldn't fight back the grin that broke across his face.

One of the speakers was busted, the sound scratched and distorted, and she doubted she had ever heard something quite so beautiful. Laying in bed next to Daryl, radio in between their heads, she allowed herself to forget. If just for one song.

For the entirety of the 11 minutes and 58 seconds, she surrendered to the music. Let it wash over her, cleanse her. Rolling, unabashed applause came in waves, peaking as hesitant plucking gave way to a jazzy, confident baseline. The slow, soft introduction flowed into gentle melodies, mellifluous verses.

"Crazy how it feels tonight

Crazy how you make it all alright, love

You crush me with the things you do"

Gradually, the other instruments began to play. Horns, strings, drums. The music was overtaken by a slightly sinister crescendo, building and building and building and finally exploding into an all consuming cacophony of pure sound.

"Lying under this spell you cast on me

Each moment

The more I love you

Crush me

Come on"

It was at this point that the music overtook her, rocking her back and forth, up and down, taking her to a place she had never been, had never even dreamt of. Sound pounding in her ears, eyes closed, she slipped her hand into Daryl's, and when he closed his fingers over hers, she saw fireworks and stars and warm, sweet grass.

"It's crazy I'm thinking

Just as long as you're around

And here I'll be dancing on the ground

Am I right side up or upside down

To each other we'll be facing"

The music meandered for several minutes, and just when she thought the musicians had lost the original image of the song, their harmonies and melodies and riffs and syncopations fell in line and with a sudden resolution of building octaves, it was over.

Dave thanked the audience, gratitude and awe clear in his voice, and he was met with a deafening roar. Unrelenting cheers. There must have been tens of thousands of people, maybe even hundreds of thousands, cheering him on. The thought of so many people, alive and well, gathered together, made Carol's head spin. She could hardly imagine more than a dozen people together anymore. Any more than that meant carnage; bloodshed.

Slightly dizzy, she shut the machine off. She had allowed herself nearly a quarter of an hour to forget, to throw herself into something that so hardly existed anymore and indulge. Something that was a reminder of time past, time lost. But there was work to be done.

She sat up and Daryl followed suit. He smiled shyly, running a hand through his hair.

"Guess I'm a Dave Matthews fan now."

The song used above is The Dave Matthews Band's "Crush," from The Central Park Concert, 2003. Really a phenomenal show, and I highly recommend it and all other DMB. I saw them a few months back and it was a damn good show. If you like jam bands (or just music really, let's be honest y'all), I'd give it a listen!

But I wanna give a huge shout out to all of my readers for sticking with me this long. I promise I won't let y'all down! The next chapter should be up in a few weeks. Make sure to review in the meantime!