A/N: WARNING: Mentions rape. Graphic sex in later chapters.
When Carol was shoved toward him, Daryl didn't flinch. He pulled her against himself, pressing her nakedness against his chest. He could smell the fear coming off her as she trembled. Hands covering herself, she fit her shoulder beneath his and looked up into his eyes. He looked down at her, gun still pointed at the other man's head. Tears had tracked down Carol's face, and fresh ones were now following – tears of relief. He wiped a salty globe from her face with his thumb and kissed her forehead without thinking twice about it, before turning her away from his target. Safely tucked behind him, Daryl turned to face the group of men, who were now staring down the barrel of his pistol. Beside him, Rick held his own revolver steady. Carol slipped behind Rick and Daryl into Andrea's arms.
"Steady now…" The apparent leader of the group put up his hands in a gesture of defeat. "I didn't know she was spoken for." He grinned, either oblivious or indifferent to the waves of rage causing the veins in Daryl's neck to throb.
"We'd be happy to trade for 'er, right Gil?" One of the larger men spoke up.
"Trade? What the fuck do you mean, 'trade'?" Daryl spat, disgust evident in is words.
"Our women are not for sale." Rick was calm, his voice even and his words without equivocation.
"Women? Plural? You got more pussy stashed away in that jail?" Gil's rotten teeth spread his grin wide.
If the plan to save Carol wasn't about to work in a spectacular fashion, Rick Grimes would have never taken his eyes off the men in front of him. As he saw the glint of Michonne's sword above their heads, he glanced at Daryl.
Several things happened at once: Michonne let her blade swing, taking the heads clean off two of the men in the department store. T-Dog reached up and grabbed another man's throat, using Daryl's hunting knife to slit his throat. Daryl and Rick each dispensed with the last two with a hatchet and bowie knife, respectively. None of the other men had time to react.
The group nodded to one another, acknowledging that they had done what needed to be done. Killing five breathing men wasn't something they had considered doing when they set out for supplies the day before, but it had been necessary. None of them regretted it.
Daryl kicked Gil's corpse once in the head, before turning and heading for the door. Michonne, Rick and T-Dog watched him go, then turned to one another. T-Dog raised an eyebrow, to which Rick paid a lopsided grin. Michonne remained stoic as ever.
Rick directed, "Let's see what we can salvage and get back. Everyone will be worried. We're losing light."
Their vehicle was the only one in the parking lot of the dirt mall they tracked Carol to that day. Carol sat in the driver's seat with the door open, feet on the asphalt. Blood matted her hair behind one ear and had soaked the collar of the new shirt she wore. The expensive camp shirt hung off her thin shoulders, as she stared out at the deserted lot. Andrea knelt in front of her, trying and failing to offer words of comfort. Carol shut her out. While the horror of her ordeal replayed in her mind, she clung to the memory of Daryl, stepping up to claim her.
When the group had discovered the other survivors inside the department store, it had been because of Carol's screams, and the laughter of men heard throughout the shop. As a team, they had grown so good at clearing walkers that the other group never heard them enter. Five men: two holding her down, one watching with apparent amusement as another tried to gag her to keep her from bringing a herd into the store, and one other *touching* her. Rotten teeth grinned down at her, dirty, bloody hands groped at her naked chest.
Daryl had heard her cry out and came running, already knowing he was not dealing with the walking dead. He doubled back to the others, who were cautiously and quickly making their way toward Carol. Their hastily devised plan was based on what they all knew of men who would hold down and tear the shirt off a woman they had kidnapped from the woods outside the prison. It had been the group's intention that Rick would claim Carol as his. But as T-Dog and Michonne slipped around to the other side of the store, Daryl drew his gun and stepped out of the shadows before Rick could react.
"Get the fuck off my wife!" His knuckles were white, his body buzzed with anger. Rick's only reaction had been to catch the same words in his own throat. Andrea's jaw dropped momentarily, but her attention turned to Carol, gagged, half naked and trembling on the floor.
Carol tried to wash the taste of vomit from her throat. At least I can't taste him, she thought bitterly. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she considered all she had endured with Ed, only to be attacked by a group of strangers during the apocalypse. She swished warm water from Andrea's canteen around in her mouth again as her friend rose. Andrea moved to meet Daryl as he came out of the department store.
"She's pretty shaken up –" Andrea started, but Daryl ignored her and brushed her aside. Andrea threw her hands up.
Battered work boots filled Carol's field of vision, and Daryl's lean body followed, blocking the setting sun as he kneeled in front of her.
"You ok?" He reached to the wound on her head, but Carol caught his hand. He startled a little, stopped only by her wry grin.
"I'm ok, Daryl." She could smell him, the scent of adrenaline, the rusty tang of blood and something else she couldn't place. She tried to get him to meet her eyes, to reassure him, even as she tried to shake off her own shock.
Daryl took her hand in both of his and let out a relieved sigh. His shoulders visibly dropped. He looked up at her, and Carol understood the scent she couldn't place. Tears. Salty tears filled Daryl's eyes, and it was evident a few had fallen as he had come to find her outside. He had tried to wipe them away with the back of his hand, but the telltale streak of grime was there.
Carol's breath caught and Daryl's tears spilled over. He brought their hands to his lips and let the tears fall. He let out one choked sob as he leaned over and pressed his forehead to the thigh of Carol's jeans. Her lips trembled, confusion and relief and sorrow overwhelming her. She wrapped her arms around Daryl as best she could. It was only a moment. Less than a minute they sat like that, Andrea watching on a few feet away.
"Need help?" Andrea went to take a bag from T-Dog as he and Michonne came out of the store, loaded with supplies.
Daryl pulled away from Carol. She looked into his eyes and he met her gaze without wavering. "I thought I lost you again."
"Shit, Andrea, I ain't like that!" Daryl was seething again. Michonne watched the argument up close, ready to act if either stepped out of line.
"She was just raped, Daryl. She's in shock, she's hurt…"
"I know that! I'm not gonna try to get in her pants or some shit. I just want her with me so I can – "
"What, the rest of us can't keep her safe?" Andrea cut in. "Big bad, Daryl needs to keep all the walkers away – "
"Where the hell were you yesterday when they grabbed her?"
"Where the hell were YOU, Daryl?"
T-Dog chimed in, "Will you both shut up? Every walker in 100 miles is gonna hear you!"
"HEY NOW!" Rick stepped between the two, who were nose to nose. "Carol is safe. This is nobody's fault, ok? Let's all just take a deep breath."
"Tell Miss Women's Lib here I ain't a rapist!" Daryl spat. He backed down though and sat down next to the warm embers of their quickly-made camp.
"He's pushing her, Rick!" Andrea put her hand on her hip, exasperated.
"Will you all just stop it?" Carol hopped out of the SUV, a heavy blanket pulled around her shoulders.
The other four turned to look at her as if remembering she was with them.
"I wasn't raped." Carol sat down heavily on a fallen log.
"Thank God." T-Dog sighed and turned back to watch duty.
Andrea tried to put a comforting hand on Carol's shoulder, but was shaken off. Daryl and Rick listened without comment.
"They took me and we got overrun by a small herd. 20 or 30 walkers. My hands were tied, but I got away and ran. I ran all night. I found that store, but they followed me. I figured it was empty – no cars, no people to turn, right?"
The sounds of the night enveloped their little family, and they all fell into silent reflection. The rest were safely behind the fences of the prison and all of them out on their run were accounted for, essentially unhurt. The cut on Carol's scalp would heal.
Carol's emotions ran wild as they sat there. Once again, the others had to save her ass. Once again she had dragged them all into danger. But hadn't she proven she could take care of herself? At least to some extent? She had found shelter. She had survived a herd of walkers with her hands bound. She had held off her attackers until help could come. And in the end, they had found much more gear and food than they could have even hoped for. The five men who had taken her had an RV full of MREs, canned goods, bottled water and other supplies. The department store was completely intact. Carol had found the delivery bay doors of the mall secured, but unlocked. Before leaving, they filled their SUV and the RV with supplies, clothing, blankets, pillows and even books. If she had never been taken, would they have found this place?
And what about Daryl? It was clear the entire ordeal had shaken him. If Andrea or Maggie had been taken, would he have reacted the same? Would he have stepped up to claim Beth as his wife? It was no secret that Carol and Daryl cared for each other. Carol's eyes always sought him out when they got together in a group. He always left a seat next to him for her at dinner. When walkers came, snarling and moaning, they sought protection in each other. For every plate of food Carol brought him, Daryl would scrape several bites back onto her plate. For every deer Daryl brought back from a hunt, she would set aside a few strips of venison to be dried on the roof of the guard tower and slipped into his pack for the next hunt. It was this meat that she spent her meager supply of spices on – a TicTac box of jerk rub she had found scavenging a car.
More than wanting the argument to stop, Carol wanted Daryl to know she hadn't been violated. While he had stopped flinching when she touched him, and had been more generous with his smiles, Daryl was still a damaged soul. Carol had resigned herself to living this life as Daryl's best friend, nothing more. The thought of ever being desired, the dreams of being wanted, had died long ago, and had been burned with Ed. A life without sexuality sans double-A batteries left her a shell. Sex and closeness and desire were foreign concepts, not just ones she had resigned herself to never having.
Daryl, on the other hand, knew what he wanted. He had proven his worth to his new family. His brother, who had taught him that he wasn't worth loving, had sacrificed himself so that Daryl would live. He was no longer just Merle's baby brother, but Rick's right hand. He was T-Dog's friend. He was Carl's confidante. At the end of all things, Daryl Dixon was somebody.
He watched Carol through the dying embers of their fire, feeling the heat seep from the Earth as the moon rose higher in the sky. While her shoulders remained thin, he could no longer see her cheekbones and her jeans sat on her hips like they were meant to. Bringing in food for their little band of survivors, seeing Judith thrive and knowing he had something to do with it made him stand a little taller. Before the end of the world, Daryl had worked too hard to survive to let down his guard. The irony of this fact was not lost on him. It took the fall of civilization to give him the chance to consider his need for other people. Even when the song of his arrow was in the air and the hum of the forest surrounded him, he was beginning to long for the place he considered his home. He found clarity in the forest – hunting made sense. Concrete evidence of an animal pushing against his senses were tangible things he could trust. If he trusted the signs, he would succeed. Emotions like love and desire were intangible. They didn't put dinner on the table. Oh, but he craved it. The spark in his belly when he felt the warmth of Carol's leg against his as they ate dinner in Cell Block C, her firm but gentle touch when she patched up another of his wounds, and her easy smile left an ache in his chest every time he walked beyond the safety of the prison fence. The thought of leaving her without his protection, of never feeling her behind him on Merle's bike again… He shivered in the hot Georgia night at the thought.
As he walked out of the department store that day, he had stopped right before the door. He shook with rage and relief, and bristled with the need to have her near him. An empty parking lot stood between him and the only person willing to tell him, plainly, that she cared.
He had only offered to stay in the SUV with Carol, that caused Andrea to go into full-on She-Ra mode. And while he was still haunted by a lifetime of abuse, he didn't want someone else giving voice to his fear that he was doing the wrong thing in that moment. Self doubt would always be carved into the cross he had to bear, but he never wanted Carol to feel abandoned. Not by him. He could see her chastising herself for getting taken, he could see disappointment in her eyes as he watched her across the fire. The best he could do then was stand guard over them all.
Daryl didn't need to tell T-Dog twice to get some rest. He walked the perimeter until the horizon turned pink.
Michonne was the first to rise. She approached Daryl, making enough noise that she didn't startle him. He knew the footfalls of his family like his own heartbeat now.
"Morning." Daryl greeted Michonne without turning around.
"Don't let Andrea stop you." Michonne stood shoulder to shoulder with Daryl and watched the sun rise. "Carol needs you. You need her."
Daryl chewed his lip for a moment and regarded his boots. He looked up at Michonne with a half grin. Michonne grinned back.
Rick drove the SUV and T-Dog maneuvered the packed RV with Andrea riding shotgun. As they drove, Carol pulled Daryl's hand into her lap. His questioning look was answered by her warm smile. Miles passed quietly, everyone left to consider the great distance that had brought them here. Eventually, Carol's exhaustion caught up with her and her head began to droop. Daryl reached over and pulled her head down onto his lap, adjusting the blanket tighter around her. He let his arm drape over her and Carol fell asleep holding his hand. Daryl caught Rick's eyes in the rearview mirror just before he turned down the road to the prison. They were smiling.
A/N: This is a one-shot unless I get reviews otherwise. Reviews are love.