Work Text:
The prison is never entirely silent; the place echoes like a canyon, plays back every murmur or drip of water from a leaky faucet, but the volume of the sounds has fallen to a comforting level, a steady background noise that perfect for drifting off to.
Carol knows that it's only a matter of time before the gentle thrum of sound lulls her to sleep. Her bones and muscles ache from the constant movement of bending and stooping to plant and tend the crops they've started in the prison's expansive yard, and she volunteered to take the last watch shift of the night, which means she really needs every minute of sleep that she can get.
But she can't help but take a few moments to savor being beside Lori.
She's fast asleep, has been since Rick left for first watch. Her round stomach is leaving a bump in the thin blanket pulled up to her chest, and when Carol settles one hand on it, she's met with a powerful kick. She slides closer, away from the perpetually damp concrete wall, and moves her hand lower, until it's resting just above Lori's protruding belly button.
In a few hours, whenever Rick comes back, she'll have to move back against the cold wall, so that the three of them will be able to fit on the mattress.
But until then, she plans on falling asleep to the gentle murmur of the prison and the feeling of Lori's baby kicking her hand.