Author's Note: Thank you for all your reads and reviews. Another multi-chap. I am a glutton for punishment! I listened to the Gossip the entire time I wrote this, as some may guess from the title!

TWDTWDTWD

Eventually, the cold air whipping around her face, combined with the dull rumble of the motorcycle's engine meant that Carol could no longer hear anything going on around her. Not that there was much to hear. Daryl had hardly said a word to her since the night around the fire, where she insulted him. It hadn't meant to come out that way, she was trying to express how much faith she had in him. Instead, she only damaged their already fragile relationship even further.

Still, there must've been some hope. It had been three days since they left the Greene farm and she still road the back of his bike. They had three cars now, trailing behind the bike in convoy, that meant plenty of room for her. He didn't acknowledge her in any way when she was on it, although she knew he couldn't forget about her as she encircled his chest, gripping the front of his vest whenever he made a turn. But she wasn't going to give up. She would make him tell her to get lost if that's what he wanted.

They camped in the open air. Fall had taken hold and the nights were cold. Every one of them huddled around the fire, trying to keep warm. Except Daryl. He stood back from the rest, as was always his way, eyes scanning the area for intruders. Carol had noticed the silence. No-one could bring themselves to talk to anyone. Not since Rick laid down the law. They all just seemed to be going through the motions. So much had happened in the last few days and it had knocked the wind out of them. Out of her, at least. First Sophia, her beautiful Sophia. Then Dale. Shane. Jimmy. Patricia. Andrea. Poor Andrea. She had saved Carol's life and now they didn't even know if she had managed to escape with her own.

Was there any point anymore? It just seemed that they were living just so they could wait to die. She thought that maybe there was a chance to build and to grow on Hershel's farm. She had hoped. Now they had nothing. They had no food. Daryl was hunting what he could, but it sometimes took hours just to scrounge up enough for them to have a few mouthfuls each. They cleaned out every car they saw, but they drove on deserted roads and there weren't many. It would be considered a good haul if they managed to siphon a little fuel and found a cereal bar and a bottle of water. They needed to get out onto the highway, to go to a town and get real supplies. Their ammunition was depleted. All they could rely on was a couple of knives and Daryl's crossbow. If they met a herd now, it would be game over for all of them.

The thought of that happening didn't frighten her anymore. Maybe it would be a relief.

TWDTWDTWD

Daryl wondered if sticking around was the right decision. He trusted Rick's judgement. He believed that the man was the right man to lead the group. But he wasn't sure if there was a place for him there any longer. He knew he didn't do well with other people. He hated feeling crowded, didn't enjoy pointless chit chat or false friendships. The only thing that he had in common with these people was that they all had made it alive so far, when so many hadn't. Maybe that's why he gravitated to Carol. She didn't yap on like the other women, she wasn't interested in gossiping or causing drama. She kept to herself, doing as she was asked, busying herself with the domestic chores that always seemed to be in abundance back at the farm. She was little bit fucked up. So was he.

Now though, she was at a loss. He could see she was restless. There were no clothes to darn, all they had was what was on their backs. There was nothing to cook, save for the kills he brought to them every afternoon. But there was little to be done with them, with no store cupboard ingredients. She wasn't used to just sitting there, waiting for something that would never come.

They needed to stop and collect themselves. They moved without any real direction, never stopping more than a few hours. They worked on a day by day basis, just collecting enough food and fuel to take them on a little further. It was killing them. Rick, for all his intentions that first night out of the farm, needed a swift kick into action. If Daryl had to be the one to do it, so be it.

He made the decision as they drove through the countryside, spotting a house up the road, the first in miles. Carol sat behind him and she was more fidgety than normal. He tried to forget she was there, he didn't want to think about her, because she was reason number one as to why he hadn't split already. It was hard to forget about her though, when her thighs pressed round his hips like a vice, hands wrapped up in his vest, twisting and untwisting the edges of the leather repeatedly, her forehead pressed against his back, protecting her face from the harsh wind. He wanted to tell her to get off and get in one of the cars, but everytime he kicked up the engine and looked at her, waiting to clamber on behind him, the words died before they passed his lips.

Part of him wanted to keep her close. She was fragile, the death of her daughter still at the forefront of her mind. Daryl thought that perhaps the events that followed, the loss of so many of the group and the fact that there was nothing to distract her might tip her over the edge. He didn't want her to opt out. He didn't trust anyone else to make sure she didn't.

He pulled the bike over a hundred yards or so from the house, Rick pulled up alongside up with a quizzical look on his face. Daryl turned the engine off and kicked the stand up, nodding his head at the other man, a signal to have a private discussion. Carol made to get up before him but he put a hand on her knee and she froze at the contact.

"Stay here." He told her gruffly, releasing her leg and swinging himself off the motorcycle. He didn't look back as he walked over to the bank at the side of the road, but he could sense Rick behind him.

"What's up?" Rick looked tired, his hand rubbing over his face as he spoke.

"We need to figure out what's goin' on here. We're wonderin' about without a fuckin' clue. You're losin' them." His head jerked towards the convoy, he could see their faces pressed up against the glass, trying to get the gist of their conversation.

Rick sighed. "I don't know what to do." He admitted finally.

"We need to get indoors for a night. It's too cold for this crap." He looked at the house in the distance and Rick followed his gaze. "Then tomorrow, we start makin' plans. You still thinkin' of Fort Benning?"

The former sheriff nodded. "You think it's a good idea?"

"Ain't no worse than any other plan. Ain't too sure we gonna find anythin' worth stayin' for though."

"We gotta know for certain. If there's nothing there...then we look for somewhere to stay for the winter. Build our supplies." He swallowed and looked back at the house. It looked empty. Windows were all intact, there was one car parked in the drive. "Let's check this place out."

"Let's go on the bike. Circle the place first." Rick nodded and they made their way back to the cars to tell the others of the plan. Daryl headed for the bike where Carol hadn't moved, twisting her hands nervously.

"Go in Rick's car." He told her, taking her wrist to help her off the bike.

"Why? What's going on?" She looked at him, bewildered, almost as if she were hurt by his words.

"We're gonna try camp up there tonight. Me and Rick are gonna circle the place. Wait with the others." He released her wrist suddenly, he hadn't meant to touch her at all.

"Be careful." She murmured softly, before turning away.

He watched her as she headed to the car behind her, nodding at Rick as he walked past her and slid into his seat at the wheel of the car.

He cranked the engine as Rick sat behind him awkwardly, not used to travelling in such a way.

The front door to the property was swinging open, he noticed as they drove past. It certainly looked empty. The garden was overgrown, the grass turned yellow from the summer heat. There was a chicken coop in amongst the overgrowth, but the top has been torn off, the animals likely having been picked off by Walkers. They spotted nothing around them, the noise of the bike didn't draw anyone. Or anything.

Daryl cut the engine and they dismounted, both drawing their weapons as they walked to the front door, the screen was blowing back and forth in the wind. Rick caught it with his foot and entered first, pistol drawn. The hallway was poorly lit, a console table had been knocked over, the family photographs lay smashed and broken on the floor. Daryl turned his gaze away at the sight of one nearest to him, a baby dressed in a frilly hat, and focused on the doors nearest to him.

The living room was mostly untouched, small but homely, the only thing out of place was a few magazines that had blown off the coffee table. They walked through it to get to the dining room, heading towards the back of the property and it too, was pristine. Photos on the wall seemed to imply that a family of six had lived here. A young couple and four children, judging by the pictures, none of the children were over the age of 7 or 8. Daryl remembered what Rick had once told him, about how he knew Lori and Carl had run. Pictures were missing, that's how he knew there was hope. He looked at the portrait over the dining room fire place, a wedding photo. There was no hope here.

They made it back into the hallway, after clearing the conservatory attached to the dining room. Comprised entirely of glass, it provided a good view of the left side of the house and Daryl gestured to Rick at the river he could see further down the garden bank. A good sign.

They were just about to push open the door to what they assumed would be the kitchen when they heard the clang of metal bouncing to the floor, quickly followed by something scratching at the wood. Daryl got into position and Rick kicked the door, moving aside swiftly to let Daryl aim his weapon at the noise.

The Walker immediately lurched forward, groaning and drooling at the sight of Daryl, but before it could even talk two steps he released his arrow straight into its forehead and it crumpled to the ground immediately. It was female, dressed in a ragged summer dress, with dirty barefeet and a mass of tangled hair. Daryl recognised it as the woman in the family pictures.

There was no others in the kitchen. On the table, Rick found a folded piece of paper, the name Tim scrawled across the front.

"'Tim, gone to Mom's with the kids. Follow us there. Julie and Lilly got bit. Be careful, Julie is around here some place. Stay safe. Mark.' There could be another one." Rick whispered, looking towards the ceiling.

There were several doors upstairs, all shut. They proceeded with caution, taking one at a time, but each was empty. There was a master bedroom, a family bathroom and they found three children's bedrooms, the beds all neatly made. The last one, however, held a stench they recognised. The little wooden sign on the door proclaimed it to be Lilly's room and the two men gave each other a warning look. Rick tapped his gun on the door, to encourage anything in there to make noise, but there was none. He opened the door and immediately grimaced at the sight before him.

Daryl followed him and his heart lurched. A crib came into his immediate view, the side pulled down, blankets trailing from the mattress to the floor, where the tiny remains of a child lay, her little dress torn and stained, it was the only evidence that this body belonged to a human, such was the damage she had suffered. Rick heaved at the sight of the mangled little girl and Daryl had to hold back his own choked reaction. It never got easier to see something like that.

"We gotta move her 'fore the others come in." Daryl finally managed to say in a whisper, walking to the window to peer out and check on the cars. "The women'll be hysterical." Rick nodded, but didn't seem to be able to move from his position by the door.

Truthfully, Daryl wasn't thinking of the other women. Just Carol. He knew this would crush her to see. Somebody's little one. He didn't want her to see this. No mother should have to see what she had seen. He wouldn't make it worse.

When he realised Rick wasn't going to help, he passed his crossbow to him and using the covers from the crib he scooped the tiny thing up, covering it in the pink blankets. They made it back to the kitchen, Rick dragged the Walkers body out the back door, wrapping it in tarp he found by the garden shed and Daryl tucked the little pink bundle underneath, back next to her mother. It was the best they could do.

"We'll tell the others not to go in that room. Don't tell them about the baby." Rick told him afterwards and Daryl nodded in agreement. He went out the front door and waved across to the cars and the engines immediately revved up and met them up the drive.

"Place is clear." Rick told them. "Just one Walker. It's taken care of."

TWDTWDTWD

Carol glanced back at Daryl as she stepped into the house, he looked incredibly uncomfortable, almost as if he wanted to vomit. He refused to look back at her and she wondered what had happened in the time that they had been apart. She followed Lori and Carl into the kitchen, rooting through the cupboards. There was plenty to be had, the previous owners hadn't thought to clear out their dried goods to take with them. It took them ten minutes to deposit everything of use onto the kitchen table. There would be enough to last them two or three days, if they were careful. More if they lit a fire and had some water to cook pasta and such. Lori took Carl into the living room, where T-Dog, Rick and Hershel were dragging down mattresses from the bedrooms. They would camp together downstairs tonight.

She twisted the tap hopefully, wondering if the property had it's own water system, but wasn't surprised when nothing happened.

"There's river at the bottom of the garden." She jumped at the sound of his voice, he was leaning against the door frame, watching her. It was the first thing he had said to her in days that wasn't a command.

She nodded and moved to the back door, looking to find it and when she opened the door, she could hear the sound of the water rushing. It was peaceful. And a little unnerving. She shut the door and locked it, although she knew if a Walker was determined enough, it would hardly be a deterrent. He was still there, watching her silently. The light was fading and she began to search the drawers and cupboards for candles or torches. When she finally found what she wanted under the sink, she turned to show him her prize, a large torch and a bag of tealights, but he had disappeared.

Once night had set in, a book cabinet had been slide across the front door, in case they had any unwelcome visitors. The area was deserted enough, but so had the farm and noone was feeling complacent anymore.

They shared out the tins between themselves and they ate straight from them, all of them too hungry to care about manners. Carol picked at her fruit cocktail, resisting the urge to yawn. She'd already eaten a tin of spagetti hoops and a candy bar and couldn't work up the energy to eat anymore. She'd already comandeered the long couch, most of the others would fit on the mattresses, kicking off their boots, they spread across them as they ate.

Daryl sat on the arm of the sofa, she could feel his eyes occassionally flickering over her. Silently, she passed over her half eaten can and he gave her a glare before finally accepting it, finishing the contents quickly. Everyone had began to still, minds and bodies weary after several days of hard travelling with very little rest.

Carol pulled the throws that lay folded neatly over the back of the sofa off and tossed one in his direction. He didn't say anything, so neither did she. She kicked off her shoes and stuffed a cushion under her head, drawing her feet under her, she balled herself up as tight as she could on one side of the sofa, leaving room for him on the other if he wanted it. She pulled the blanket up over her face and a few minutes later she felt him slump into the other side of the couch and she forced herself into taking steady breathes. She could feel her eyelids getting heavy and soon she was asleep.

She woke up briefly sometime in the night. A few of the tealights were still burning faintly and she could see Daryl's outline in the flickering light. He was breathing rhythmically, resting his face on one hand on the arm of the couch. She'd stretched out in her sleep, her feet were now in his lap, his other hand resting lightly over her bare ankles. Feeling embarassed that she'd put herself on him, even unconsciously, she drew her feet back and his fingers flexed against her skin. She stopped suddenly, frightened of waking him. She closed her eyes and tried to settle back down, forcing herself to forget about it. It was surprisingly easy.