"I'm fine," Carol insisted while trying for the third time that night to get blood out of her white button up shirt.. No one in Alexandria had been fine since the night a week ago when all hell broke loose and people were lost. While her tone was firm, her eyes told a different story. She no longer looked him in the eye when they had this conversation, which seemed to be more frequent than he would like. Instead, she kept her eyes focused on the water, now tinged pink by the blood of the Alexandrians, both big and small.

"No, you ain't fine. And it don't make a difference if you say it to yourself, or out loud to me. Saying you're fine ain't gonna make you fine," Daryl stated, continuing to stare at her from the other side of the counter. "It's been months of you being 'fine' so you say, and if the rest of the dumbasses here would pay attention, they'd see you're falling apart too."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could take them back. Daryl watched as she shot daggers through him and abandoned her attempted stain removal. She dropped the shirt in the soapy water and silently stormed past him right up the stairs to the master bathroom. He followed after her but was brought to a stop when the bathroom door was slammed shut just an inch from his face.

Even if she wouldn't let him in, he wasn't going anywhere. Maybe it was cruel of him, to push her until her walls crumbled down, but letting whatever it was that was eating at her out was the only way she could begin to heal. He decided he'd give her a little while to cool off, but he wasn't going far.

He yanked the back door open and slammed it shut behind him in a hurry. Sitting down on the steps, he lit a cigarette and leaned back on his elbows. It was infuriating trying so hard to get Carol to open up to him. He was infuriated with the other members of their family that hadn't so much as asked her if she was doing ok or offered a simple reminder that they were there should she need anything or anyone. He should be used to things being this way. Sure, they were one big, happy fucking family, but when it came to the deeper needs of anyone, it was each individualized family unit on their own. It had been that way since the farm, no, the quarry. Once the group came back from the city without Merle, he didn't care about them.

It wasn't until Sophia that he cared about anyone else. The little girl that had run off into the woods on her own and ended up lost reminded him of himself. That was why he got up that night and went to look for her with Andrea. It hit too close to home for him, seeing the little girl, who never had a chance to be a kid growing up with such a monster of a father. What hurt the most in his eyes, was after all the Peletier women had survived, this world took Sophia away before she even had a chance to live, and permanently broke a part of Carol's heart having to see her daughter put down in front of her. Daryl was still haunted by the feel of Carol's body shuddering as she wept in his arms that day..

Laying back on the wooden deck, he stretched his back out. This life was hell on his body. Ever since the van Carol and he sought refuge in went over the bridge, his back had been acting up. He pulled his knees up to his chest and heard something hit the wooden plank at his side. It was the jasper stone he had picked up on the med run with Michonne, Tyreese, and Bob. He still couldn't believe both men were gone. They just kept dropping like flies.

Holding the stone up in the fading sunlight, he could see the shimmering golden lines that danced through it's swirling greens. When Daryl picked it up off the ground, it's surface was somewhat textured. Now, it was completely smooth with an indentation from his thumb from him using it as a worry stone.

For as long as he could recall, he had been keeping stones in his pocket for a number of reasons. He rolled the jasper around in his hand for a few moments while he smoked another cigarette. Carol was already going to be nagging him for smelling like smoke, so he figured he may as well have another. The jasper had served it's purpose for him and he felt it was time to pass it on to someone else that could benefit from it's healing properties.

The kitchen was apparently closed now, nearly as dark as the sky was getting outside, so he followed the light glow around the corner into the living room. She was sitting on the couch in her pajamas with a book and a glass of wine. It seemed like something any woman might have done after a long stressful day in the old world, but not her. Carol never would have allowed her senses to be dulled by alcohol when Ed was alive, nor would she be drinking after the chaos that had just taken place. Guilt flooded his entire being as worry set in that he had pushed her to a drink.

"Can we… Can we talk for a minute?" He asked, hesitating in the doorway. Honestly, he couldn't blame her if she ignored him completely right now. He deserved it.

"I don't know. I'm pretty tired, Daryl. Falling apart takes a lot out of a woman," she remarked. She lifted her eyes to look at him just over the book she held. He couldn't recall the last time she looked so angry, but he was sure it wasn't at him.

"I'm sorry. I'm shit with words and even worse at this," he said motioning between them with his hand. "Just give me a few minutes and I'll go." At her approving nod he entered the room. He pulled a blanket out of the storage ottoman and spread it out over her before taking a seat next to her on the couch. "Got somethin' for you," he said, shifting to one side to reach into his pocket. "Gimme your hand."

Carol placed the dried Cherokee rose she used as a marker in between the pages and placed the book on the floor next to her. Seeing the nervousness in his eyes, she resisted the urge to make a joke about what he had in his pocket for her, and placed her hand in his. She knew him well enough to know when to tease him and when not to. Now was not one of those times.

"I remembered my ma had all these stones and crystals around that shitty house," he started, picturing in his head how they were all inconspicuously placed so they would be left alone. "She kept a few books about their supposed meanings and uses hidden in a cabinet behind her cookbooks. I would read them when I was bored. They were the only thing to read in the house aside from the old man's car magazines and his porn stash, which I knew better than to touch. Didn't have any books of my own since the old man seemed to think it was fun to ignite all of my books in the fireplace." His dad's words still echoed in his head. Reading's for them sissy boys. I ain't raisin' no fuckin' sissy boy.

Daryl continued to tell her a little about when he was younger and how he was always interested in learning about anything he could. He told her about how when his dad was gone, he would take a book and go sit in the shade of the willow tree. Day after day, during the times that his dad would vanish into thin air that was, he would read the yellowed pages over and over until he had memorized the words inside. Once he had become familiar with the various stones and their purposes, he kept an eye out for them when he was out in the woods. The stones used for healing and protection were the ones he had focused on the most. His family sure could use any help they could find.

"Jasper." He said, placing the stone in her waiting hand. "That one was always one of my favorites. Never found one as nice looking as this one either. I got it out on the med run, with Michonne. Figured I picked it up around the time you and Rick were in that neighborhood." Daryl felt her tense next to him, so he pulled her legs into his lap and began to gently rub her feet. She relaxed within moments and began to examine the stone.

"Jasper's supposed to get rid of all the negative energy and shit your body's holding onto. It gives you courage, and helps heal you. The emotional stuff, too," he said looking at her with a knowing eye.

Tears began to fall from her eyes as the last few bricks of her wall were knocked down. He pulled her into his arms and held her as she cried, rubbing her back and leaving small kisses on the top of her head.

"It was a little while after I found Tyreese. He had his hands full with Lizzie, Mika, and Judith. We found a place to stay. It was a nice little cabin with pecan trees all around. There was still propane in the tank, so we had a hot meal, warm baths, and the girls and I roasted nuts.

"I should have been paying more attention to Lizzie. She was confused about how dangerous walkers are. She had been feeding them, naming them, and I even caught her playing with one. The girl was sick," Carol said.

"We left the girls in the cabin to go hunt. We were only gone for about 30 minutes. When we came back, Mika was on the ground in a pool of blood. Lizzie was standing over her with a bloody knife in her hand saying it was ok, she didn't hurt her brain and that she would come back. She even pointed her gun at me trying to get me to wait so that I would see Mika would be alright. She planned on making Judith turn next."

Carol paused as she felt Daryl's heart rate accelerate. She burrowed into his chest more and pulled the blanket up higher over herself. "I had to explain to her as I looked at poor Mika's lifeless body that Judith couldn't even walk yet. I felt like vomiting as I tried to reason with her. After the girls... I confessed to Ty what I had done at the prison, that I took the woman he loved away from him. I put my gun on the table in front of him and told him to do whatever he felt he needed to do."

"You did what?" Daryl asked. "You realize that he could have killed you? And that would have done what? Made you two even because you put the woman he loved out of her misery and he took my-" he cut himself off as he realized how stiff she had become. He didn't want to be the source of any more pain for her.

"Took your what?" Carol asked shifting herself so she could look at him.

Daryl met her eyes and saw hope in them. After reuniting outside of Terminus, they had both become more open with physical affection behind closed doors. They held hands, they cuddled, shared a bed, and a few chaste kisses, but that had been the extent of it. Still, even though they suspected how the other felt, neither one of them had vocalized their own feelings. He decided now was as good a time as any.

"My woman," he answered, leaning down to finally claim her lips as his own.