Author's Notes: Thank you for the reviews on Tempest, new chapter soon! I think I am going to be writing episodes after every new episode, at least where Daryl and Carol are concerned. I am kinda shipping platonic!Caryl kinda hard.

It took him a few minutes to realise that Carol wasn't next to Lori in Hershel's cell. She hadn't been the one to rescuitate the old man and she hadn't been there at all since they got back from locking the prisoners up.

He turned and spun out of there, keeping his pace casual as he walked up both tiers of the block, checking each cell and as he came back down the metal steps, Glenn met him at the bottom.

"Carol's still outside." Glenn loosened the chain of the pocketwatch that was tight against his wrist, stuffing it into his back pocket.

"What the hell's she doin' out there?" He asked, stepping over to the window, even though he knew he'd be unlikely to see her.

"Surgery."

"Surgery? What the hell?" He snapped back at Glenn, who just shrugged.

"It's gross man, I don't - just get her to explain. She's down by the fence, where we broke in." Glenn shook his head in exasperation and walked away, towards the sound of Maggie's voice just outside Hershel's cell.

He could see her exactly where Glenn had said she'd be, on her knees on the rough gravel, just a shadow against the late afternoon sunlight. There was a body beside her, but the sun made it impossible to see what was going on.

He picked up his pace a little, his heart racing a little bit, because these days, you never knew what you were going to find when you returned to a member of the group.

Carol looked up sharply as she heard his feet crunch the gravel, hand flying to the knife that rested by her side. As she came properly into view, he spotted the split stomach of the Walker beside her, entrails and organs a bloody heap alongside it.

Carol turned away from him when she realised who approached, a hand going to her forehead and swiping across her hairline wearily.

"What's all this?" He stopped a couple of feet behind her, hit with the overwhelming stench of death. Her lap was red-brown soaked with rotten blood, her arms where covered past her elbows and when she turned to answer his question she'd smeared the stuff over her forehead, creeping right into her hair.

She looked at him with those big, blue eyes, fear and exhaustion in them. All too common a sight these days and it still left him as uncomfortable as ever. But they were glassy, like she might cry and that wasn't common. Not anymore. He was pretty pleased actually, the women's tears had dried up a long time ago, save for today, with Hershel's girls. He could deal with that.

She shook her head sadly. "I can't do it."

"Do what, 'xactly? 'Cause this just looks like ya tryna carve it up like a pumpkin." It was a weak joke, but he was trying to get a smile out of her, anything. Except her eyes just got even wider, knuckles turning white as she gripped her knife even tighter.

"That's just it! I haven't got a clue what to do here. I'm not a doctor." She muttered the last sentence as though she were ashamed, turning back to look at the Walker's innards mournfully.

Daryl shifted from foot to foot, wondering what to say. He didn't quite know what she had been doing, didn't know if he wanted to ask, even. But he figured it worrying about taking over from Hershel.

"Hershel woke up."

Her head snapped up. "He did?"

"Yep. Guess you're a better doctor'n you think." He shrugged, crouching down beside her.

Carol shook her head sadly. "If Lori doesn't go into labour in the next day or two, I'm going to have to cut her open. Might have to do it anyway. I'll kill her. I'll kill the baby." She said it with such desperation, it made his head hurt. She gestured down at the body in front of them.

Then he got it. Practice. She was practicing. She was trying to learn how to get the baby out.

"And even if I get the baby out, without hurting it, what about Lori? I have nothing to stitch her up with. No antibiotics. No sterile equipment. No things for the baby. I could do it and they'll still die." She was on a roll, checking off everything on her bloody hands.

"Stop." Daryl tugged his rag from his back pocket, looking for the cleanest spot. He gripped Carol by the back of her neck, wiped the blood from her forehead and she sat there impassively, letting him clean her up. "Ain't no time for that shit. Gotta do what's gotta be done." He gave up on trying to get the blood out of her hair, it had dried already. "Man got his leg cut off today an' he's alive. Babies b'in born for thousands of years an' this one is gonna get born too. It's gon' be fine."

He let go of her, tucking the rag away. When he looked back up at her, she was looking at him intently and nodded once, firmly.

He tore his eyes away from her and squinted into the distance. There were still Walkers at the wire fence, where they came in. Seven that he could see immediately, four were female.

"Come on." Daryl stood up, jerked her up by her elbow. "Reckon we got another hour or two of light. Four female Walkers." He pointed to the snarling and drooling creatures up ahead.

"You sure?" Carol asked hesitantly.

"Ain't no time to waste."

They worked at each end of the line of Walkers, taking them out irrespective of their previous gender. When they met in the middle, the last female, chomping at the bit, he gestured for her to take it out and she delicately skewered her metal spike through it's eye socket.

"Watch my back." He told her, untangling the cable that held the fence shut and slipping through.

She did as she was told from the other side of the fence, helping him pull the bodies through the wire without damaging the stomachs. Just as he was dragging the last one to the opening, she froze, dropping the arms of the Walker she was pulling.

"Walker." She hissed. "Quickly."

He dropped the body, stood up straight and reached for his knife and twisted around. The Walker heading his way was small, a kid, really. It took one kick with his boot to knock it to the floor and it's skull was so soft he hardly had to press his weight into the blade.

He felt movement behind him and whirled around to face it, but it was only Carol, dragging the last body and nodding behind him.

"Look." There were several Walkers approaching now. Five or six, that he could see. He could probably take them all out, especially if Carol was helping, but it wasn't worth the energy. Not when they could hide behind fences.

Daryl picked up the feet of the Walker and stuffed it into the opening of the fence and just as he was fixing the cable shut, the first approaching Walker threw it's self at the fence, growling and snarling.

Carol had laid them out in a row and looked up at him from the ground, kneeling over the first one. It wore a a dirty button down and Carol fumbled with the buttons to get it open.

He nudged her aside, took his knife and sliced the material, tearing it aside. She was prolonging it. She just gave him an uncertain look and picked up her knife.

Just as she pressed the blade to the greying skin, he held out an arm. "Angle it that way." Daryl twisted her arm so only the blade's point touched the flesh. "Gonna get a cleaner cut. It'll be easier with a scalpel."

"I haven't got a scalpel." She shrugged but she cut slowly in the angle he told her.

"Gonna have one. Infirmary's bound to have shit like that. If things got taken, it ain't gonna be that."

The first surgery attempt was a bust. The insides of the thing were so rotted away that Carol could barely get through the first incision without vomiting. Even he couldn't see what was supposed to be what, so he dragged her onto the next one.

"Keep the cut shallow, skin's stretched, baby's not gonna be hiding, gonna find it just fine." His hand hovered over hers, guiding her without touching her.

A few minutes later, she held a once-human womb in her hands. She hadn't even been certain that's what it was, especially as it was so small without a baby inside it, but he had known.

"Next one." He commanded, tossing the organ aside.

"How do you know? Delivered babies before?" She teased, clearly so much calmer now that things were going better.

"Pups." He corrected. Back when his old man was breeding dogs, where a single pup would go for hundreds of dollars. Of course, he'd done most of the work, as he always did. Her question took him back to a time that seemed a lifetime ago, when he'd cut open a pitbull bitch to save the five pups in her belly. "Ain't all that different." He snorted. "Besides, I gut your dinner, don't I? Ain't fed you uterus yet."

Carol let out a little giggle at that and he tried to scowl at her. Probably laughing because she didn't expect to him to use the word "uterus". But he couldn't really muster up any serious displeasure at her, just giving her a small smile when the giggles stopped and she got back to business.

The third was even better. Her hand got steadier, she made the incision through the uterus cleanly. She found the damn thing without hesitation.

"You ever done stitches?" He asked as she made her final attempt. The sun was going down and he was surprised that noone had come looking for them.

"Not on skin. Darned plenty of shirts though."

He nodded at that. She was good at the sewing and things. Not that they wasted time on that crap anymore. "'Cept, Lori, she's gonna be in a whole world of hurt, gonna have to do that when she's fightin' ya."

The confidence that came from slicing open the four Walkers in front of her slid from her face, frown lines marring her forehead.

"S'gonna be fine. I'm just tellin' ya so you don't get surprised." Daryl grabbed her by her elbow and pulled her up with him as he straightened up. "C'mon. That's enough for today."

As he lead her to the edge of the fence, where water ran in a small stream, she let him drag her along by her arm, knife still in hand.

They were both silent as she cleaned her arms and face off with his grease rag and he kept his back turned out of habit, because even though the wire fences kept danger at bay, Daryl would never forget how easy it was to have your life snatched away from you when you let your guard down.

Besides, that's what he did for Carol. Kept her safe. Helped her keep herself safe, the way she was going these days. Watched her back. Watched over them all, but she was his special charge. Not that he told her, but he figured she knew. She was his friend. Never had many friends before, not real ones, but these days, he was swimming in them. Didn't mind it so much, either.

"Thank you, for helping me today. I feel a lot better about it." Carol's voice is soft, like always, just a a whisper above the chorus of crickets and birds, making their usual song at this time of day, despite the end of the world.

He shrugs. He didn't like accepting thanks for it. For anything,really. The knowledge,as sparse and vague as it was, would probably help in no way at all. She was right. Lori could very well die. The baby too. But if they did die, he didn't want Carol's conscience, her soul, to die with them. He wanted her to believe that what she did was the best she could. That it wasn't her fault.

"S'fine. Practice makes perfect, right?" Daryl told her, nudging her in the door.

She gave him a gentle smile. Just the corner of her lips twisting upwards. "Right."