This is my first attempt at publishing a fic, so I hope you like it! This is set a day or two after Carol and Maggie escape from captivity. There will definitely be one more chapter, maybe more if I'm inspired it. Rated M for nudity, though I promise it'll heat up in the next chapter. Please let me know what you think!


"Listen," Denise said in a low voice, pulling Daryl aside in the infirmary. "Carol's going to be okay. I have no idea how she got out of there with nothing but a couple bruises, but she did. I don't know though, she seems-"

"Different," Daryl finished. "Yeah I know."

"She needs care. But we only have so many beds and… someone needs... can you-"

"Yeah," Daryl said gruffy. "I got her. She alright then?"

Denise sighed and looked Carol up and down from across the room. "Physically, yeah. She still hasn't said anything, though. Just… watch her, alright?"

Daryl nodded and went over to Carol. She was sitting on the corner of an exam table, gripping the edge so tight her knuckles were white. She stared at the floor, not acknowledging Daryl or giving any indication if she had heard their conversation. He crouched down to her eye level and nudged her.

"C'mon," he murmured, gently taking her by the elbow. Carol wordlessly allowed herself to be led out of the infirmary. He adjusted his grip from her elbow to around her waist and she leaned into him as they made their way down the street. As they approached the cemetery her eyes fixated on Sam's grave and she stopped in her tracks.

"Carol," he said softly, trying to urge her forward.

Carol's expression didn't change, but her body refused to comply. Daryl could feel her slipping dangerously downwards, her knees clearly giving out. He adjusted his gun on his back then wrapped his arm under her knees, scooping her up like he had when he had found her in that prison cell. Carol closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. She looked unbelievably tired, more worn and weathered than Daryl could ever remember.

"I got you," he whispered as they made their way to the house. "I got you."


Once inside, Daryl didn't know what to do. Denise had said Carol needed care, and that much was clear, but he didn't know what exactly that meant. He hesitated to lay her down in her bed as both she and her clothes were filthy. He also wasn't sure if she was sleeping, awake, or somewhere in-between. Gently, he set her down on the couch as he tried to figure out what to do. He decided she should probably get cleaned up, so he turned to start a bath. Her eyes fluttered open and she reached out to grip his hand.

"Don't…" she rasped. It was the first she had spoken since returning.

"S'okay," he said, returning her grip. "I'm just gonna run you a bath, alright?"

"Daryl, please," Carol pleaded, and her voice was so small and weak it hit him like a lightning bolt through his lungs. He stooped down and reached under her shoulders to hoist her up and managed to guide her up the stairs with a hand around her waist. He guided her to the bathroom and had her sit on the closed toilet seat as he knelt down to turn the bathtub faucet on. As the water ran and he checked the temperature, a thought struck him. He hadn't considered how she was going to get into the bath; if he was going to help her or if she should keep some clothes on or what. His cheeks flushed hotter than the water from the faucet. Now was not the time, but more than that, the last thing he wanted to do was cause her more discomfort than necessary. He grabbed a bottle of bubble bath and poured almost the whole contents into the water, figuring that at least the bubbles could give her a modicum of privacy.

"Listen," he said, returning to Carol who had made no effort to move at all, let alone start undressing. "I can help all you want, but I don't wanna make you uncomfortable. So it's up to you." She didn't respond, she didn't even look at him or acknowledge she had heard. He gave her a minute as he turned off the tap and fished around on a shelf for a decent towel. "Alright. I'm gonna start helpin', and if you want me to stop or leave you alone you just tell me, okay?"

Carol met his eyes this time and nodded, but otherwise didn't move. Daryl steeled himself. He knelt down and started with the laces of her boots, pulling them off with her socks and discarding them into the hallway. He moved up to take her jacket off and paused, suddenly shy. He was going to have to deal with either her shirt or her pants next. He gestured towards her belt. "Can you…" he muttered. To his relief she unbuttoned her pants herself and shimmied them down but stopped, not going for her shirt. Daryl took a breath and lifted her tank top over her head, revealing a plain bra and her creamy smooth skin underneath. His breath hitched as he couldn't help but notice how absolutely beautiful she was. His eyes trailed from her collarbones to the soft swells of her breasts down to the faint pink scars that lined her belly and disappeared under the waistband of her cotton panties, proof that she had once been a mother. His hands went to her waist and he lifted her to her feet.

"We can leave these," he said gruffly, running a thumb along the band of her underwear. As if she hadn't heard him, she silently undid the clasp of her bra and slid it off in a fluid motion that took her underwear with it. Daryl raised his eyebrows and stared at the ceiling. Guess we're not being shy, he thought. Carol noticed his discomfort and purposefully took one of his hands and guided it to her breast. She pressed his hand into the soft mound and Daryl thought he saw the hint of a smile.

"There," she said, "That's out of the way."

Daryl's mouth went dry and he moved his hand down to the small of her back and guided her to the tub. He held her steady as she climbed into the water, occasionally wincing in pain. Her body was riddled with bruises, old and new. Rage swelled within him as he took in the faint bruises across her back and sides that were too long and thin to be accidental, that he knew must have come from Morgan's stick. She settled into the warm water and Daryl cradled her head down to rest on the wall behind the tub. She brought a hand out of the water to once again grip his, and his rage subsided as Daryl realized what Denise meant by "care" for her. She just needed him to be there. Unable to stop himself, he pressed her hand to his lips.

"Glad you're back," he managed to say, grossly understating his relief and joy that she had pulled through such an awful situation. Carol closed her eyes and he could swear he saw a smile flash across her face.

Daryl stood briefly to reach for the detachable shower head and ran warm water through it. He reached for the back of her neck and guided her into a sitting position. He cupped one hand around her forehead and with the other caused the water to soak her hair and run down her neck to her shoulder blades and down the delicate curve of her spine. He lathered shampoo into her hair and rubbed it gently it into her scalp. Carol tilted her head back with her eyes closed and for a moment he could imagine that they were in an entirely different world, just the two of them, alone and enjoying each other's quiet company. He rinsed her hair and she pulled her knees up to her chest. She rested her head facing him and Daryl gently washed the dirt off her face with his thumbs. She looked at him with hollow eyes and he could feel mutual understanding passing between them. They had both been through unspeakable trials, but they had always pulled through together. She had been putting on an act for the people of Alexandria, and even the members of their own group since they had arrived and he could see just how tired she was. This Carol, beautiful and broken and naked in the bath, this was his Carol. He was the only one she would allow herself to be so vulnerable with, and Daryl appreciated that more than he could put into words. He didn't know what had happened to her and Maggie in that compound, or what had haunted her so badly before, but he was determined to see her through. Daryl cupped the warm water in his hand and brought it up to her shoulders and back over and over.

"Listen," he said softly. "I ain't so good at taking care of people. But I'm gonna do whatever it takes. I just need you to tell me what you need."

Carol closed her eyes and he was afraid she had retreated back into herself. But then she reached out for his hand and pulled him close, sinking his hand into the water. She jerked her head, indicating towards the water. Daryl understood. He tried to ignore his heart racing as he stood up and peeled off his layers down to his boxers, which he sheepishly decided to leave on. He stepped into the warm water behind her and gently took her by the shoulders and eased her back. She settled against him and he brought his arms up to cross in front of her.

"Whatever you need," he murmured against her temple. "I got you."

Carol let out a heavy sigh. He pressed her close, trying to absorb some of her sorrow into his chest. After awhile, Carol spoke.

"I've done terrible things, Daryl. And I don't know how I can come back from them."

Daryl rested his chin on her head. "We've all done bad things. All of us. What's good and what's bad now is different than how it was before. We all done stuff we ain't proud of. Ain't nothin' you can say that's gonna shock me."

Carol paused, drawing patterns in the bubbles. "I killed Lizzie" she said in a small voice, turning her head so the side of her face was against his chest. "And I think I killed Sam, too."

Daryl gripped her tighter.

Carol took a deep breath and the words came tumbling out of her. She told him about Lizzie and Mika, about the woman at Terminus, about Sam and the cookies and Jessie and Pete. She told him about the journal she kept of names of the people she killed. She told him about the rosary and about how it meant nothing to her anymore. Daryl kept silent throughout, tracing soothing lines up and down her arms and shoulders.

"I don't know who I am anymore," she finished.

"Well I do," Daryl said softly. "I know you. Everything you did was to survive, or was so someone else could survive. You were right before, I had to feel it. Now you do too."

Carol twisted until she was laying on her side against him. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she said, "I'm trying."

Daryl reached for a washcloth. He lathered it and gently ran it over her shoulders and arms. She sat up and he traced it over the bruises on her back. She rested her head in her hands and he leaned forward, lightly massaging her neck and shoulders, careful to avoid pressing too hard on her bruised skin. His hands slipped below the bubbles as he worked her lower back and he caught sight of her face in the reflection of the faucet. Her eyes were closed and she was smiling, barely, but it was there as she rocked back and forth slightly with his motions. When he finished all the way down her back he grasped her hips and pulled her so she was leaning against him again. Carol took the washcloth from the side of the tub and finished washing her legs and lower body before fully relaxing into him again.

"Thank you," she murmured. "Feels good to say all that out loud."

Daryl reached under the water to grasp her hands that were lying against her soft stomach.

"Told you. Ain't nothin' you can say. I'll be here as long as I'm still livin'." He kissed the top of her head and grinned. "Anyway, you sure smell better now."

Carol cracked a smile. She gripped his hands tighter and nuzzled back into his chest. They stayed like that for a long time and Daryl was sure she had fallen asleep at some point, but the water was starting to cool off and although he couldn't get enough of her small, soft body leaning on him, his legs were falling asleep. He eased her up by her shoulders and wrapped a towel around his waist as he stood up. The bubbles were gone and he had almost forgotten she was completely nude, though her nakedness made him feel a sense of extreme intimacy rather than sexual excitement. The realization that she trusted him enough to be so vulnerable with made a lump rise in his throat as he helped her to her feet. He wrapped a towel around her shoulders and rubbed a hand towel over her hair as she adjusted the larger one to fit snugly around her slender frame.

"Better?" Daryl asked as he drained the water and gathered her clothes.

Carol nodded. "Cleaner," she said.

"Alright, then," he said, hand on the small of her back. "Let's get you to bed."