Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING FROM THE WALKING DEAD. ANY CHARACTERS OR STORYLINES BELONG STRICTLY TO THE CREATORS OF THE COMICS AND TV SHOW.

Author's note: Pure fluff taking place sometime during season 3. Carol gets injured and needs a little TLC.

Take Care of Me

"Shit." Carol muttered, staring down at her throbbing ankle as she sat in a pile of mud just inside the prison fences. She's been out putting down walkers along the fence when she's slipped and unceremoniously fell right on her ass in a pile of mud, twisting her ankle somewhere on the way down.

"Carol?!" Maggie hollered from the watch tower, rifle in hand. "You ok?"

"Yeah. I'm fine!" Carol called back, though the pain in her ankle said otherwise. She sucked in a sharp breath between her teeth and groaned as she gripped the chain link fence, trying to stand.

In moments, a few members of the group were rushing down to meet her. Daryl Dixon led the group, crossbow slung over his shoulder.

"What the hell?" he asked. "You ok?"

"I'm fine. Clumsy but fine," she said, wiping the mud on her hands on a patch of dry grass.

"Can ya stand?"

"Not well," Carol replied with a sheepish grin, followed by a wince of pain. Daryl sighed, but without hesitation, he scooped her up in his arms and started carrying her toward the prison. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and if her ankle hadn't been searing in pain at that moment, she'd probably have cracked some knight in shining armor joke.

When he got her inside, the small group consisting of Maggie, Glenn, Carl and Beth, stood around while Daryl carefully deposited her on her bunk. Maggie disappeared but returned moments later helping her father into the room.

"What happened?" Hershel asked, sitting down on Carol's bunk and placing his crutches aside.

"Slipped in the mud," she said, embarrassed. Daryl helped Carol off with her boot, his fingers skimming tenderly over her swelling ankle. Their eyes met, and she could have sworn he blushed.

"It's not broken," Hershel promised her. "But you're gonna have to stay off of it for a few days."

"Great," Carol muttered.

"Don't worry, Carol. I'll take care of your chores," Beth offered.

"Thanks sweetie," Carol said with a smile. "I appreciate that." Beth just smiled sympathetically and took off to start on her chores so she could work up to Carol's.

"Well, I'd offer you my crutches, but I think I'm more in need of 'em than you are," Hershel said, trying a little humor. Carol's cheeks reddened.

"I'm fine, Hershel. Everybody stop makin' a fuss. I'm fine." She sighed heavily, and Maggie placed a hand on Carl's shoulder, ushering him out of the room with Glenn following right behind. Hershel opened up a bag and fished out some pain killers. He handed them to Carol along with a bottle of water.

"For the pain," he offered. "Go on. Take it. You know it hurts." Carol eyed the older man for a moment before taking the pills and drinking them down with a cool sip of water.

"Thanks," she said softly. "Now can you all leave me be so I can get cleaned up?" Hershel and Daryl exchanged glances, and they both got up. Hershel left first, and Daryl lingered in the doorway of the cell.

"You sure you're alright?" Daryl asked, glancing down at the purple bruise spreading across her ankle

"I'm fine. Only thing that's bruised worse than my ankle is my ego, I think." Daryl smirked at that.

"Alright. Lemme know if ya need anything."

"Thanks," she said with a soft smile. And then she couldn't resist. "My hero."

"Stop," he grumbled, tapping her booted foot—the one that wasn't a wreck—with his own foot. She couldn't help but grin at him as she watched the flush fill his cheeks.

"Go on, now. I'm fine."

"Alright. I'm goin'." He stepped out of the cell and pulled a sheet across the frame to give her some privacy. Carol sighed and scooted down the bed toward the table with her wash basin on it. She dipped her hands in, scrubbing off the mud. After she dried off, she tried pulling herself to stand on one foot so she could remove her muddy pants, but that only resulted in her crashing back down against the bunk. Daryl heard this and came rushing back in. "Y'alright?"

Carol huffed and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"I can't get my pants off," she muttered under her breath. Daryl couldn't suppress a grin, but he suddenly felt nervous and chewed his lower lip.

"You…uh…need some help?" She hated to ask, but at this point, she didn't seem to have a choice.

"Yes, please?" She rolled her eyes, hating this. Daryl moved awkwardly toward the bed and knelt down beside her. "Can you not look?"

"How am I supposed to help ya if I can't see what the hell I'm doin'?" Carol sighed and finally let Daryl help her out of her other boot. His hand grazed her good ankle, and she felt her stomach flutter.

"Careful," she breathed.

"You hurt that ankle, too?"

"Mmm…no," she said quietly. "Just…ticklish." She blushed again.

"Have to remember that," he mumbled, sending her stomach plummeting and her heart racing. She wondered if he could actually hear her stomach twisting up in knots at that very moment.

His hands moved to the button on her jeans, and their gazes locked on each other's. He moved his hands away like he'd been burnt.

"Um, you wanna do that?"

"Okay," she breathed, her mouth suddenly dry. She unfastened the button and undid the zipper. "Alright. Ready." He cleared his throat, and tried to figure out how he was going to work this. Finally, he had it worked out.

"Alright. Hold onto me and lift up." She wrapped her arms around his neck, using him as leverage, and she balanced herself on one foot long enough for him to slide the pants off her hips. She sat back down on the bed, letting go of him, and he slid her jeans off her legs, trying hard not to look at the white cotton panties she wore. But he was a man, after all, and he couldn't help but take a quick peek, and it was enough to make him want to see what was underneath.

"We need to change these, too," she pointed out, looking at her muddy bed sheets from where she'd sat on them. Daryl helped her up again, long enough for them to strip the bed of its sheets.

"I'll have Beth bring ya up some clean ones," he offered. She nodded and pointed toward a bag in the corner.

"I have some pants in there. I'll wear those." Daryl grabbed the bag and took out a pair of khaki colored cargos. He motioned toward them, and she nodded to let him know those were the right ones.

"Alright. Here." He slipped one leg on and then the other, and he slid them up her waist. She held onto him again and lifted herself up so he could pull them over her hips. He let her do the zipper and the buttons and sat down next to her on the bunk. She eyed him, noticing that his cheeks were will a certain shade of pink. The pain in her ankle was subsiding a little now, thanks to Hershel's pain killers, and she couldn't help herself.

"So how many times have you offered to help a girl just so you could see her underwear?" Daryl's lips twitched, and he glared at her, but he couldn't help the smile that twitched up in the corner of his mouth. And then the inevitable shoulder nudge happened, and she sighed. That's usually all it ever was with them. A few words, a few glances, a few shoulder nudges. And God, her lips ached for him to kiss her. Just a kiss would get her through the day, but that wasn't Daryl.

He saw her shoulders visibly slump, and his first instinct was to ask her what was wrong, but when she started toeing at her shoes, he knelt down on the floor and helped her put them on, minding her sore ankle. His eyes met hers, and the way she was staring at him was enough to make his heart skip a beat and his groin tighten.

"I hurt ya?"

"No." She shook her head. "Thanks for your help." He nodded when he finished doing up her boots and stood.

"No problem," he said with a little shrug. "Need anything else?"

"I could eat," she said quietly. She expected him to offer to grab her a plate and bring it up, but instead, he bent down, wrapping one arm under her legs and the other around her back. Her eyes widened, but she wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him lift her up from the bunk.

He started for the cell door, but he lost his footing and fell back onto the bunk with Carol in his lap. Carol buried her face against his neck for a moment, and he realized her shoulders were shaking.

"Hey," he said softly, wondering what the hell had happened. She pulled back, her eyes wet with tears, her mouth twisted up in a grin, laughter bubbling from her lips.

"I think my clumsiness is rubbing off on you now," she laughed. Daryl couldn't help but manage a chuckle, and he sat there, leaning against the concrete wall, Carol sitting in his lap, her arms still around his neck. And suddenly, he didn't want to move. Suddenly, his eyes were on her lips. Suddenly, his grip around her waist tightened, and the air in the room grew thick and heavy. Her laughter stopped, and her eyes were on his lips, and a moment later, he was leaning toward her, and she gasped, licking her lips before he pressed his against hers.

His kiss was soft and sweet and electric, and her body responded to his touch immediately. Her breath flew out of her lungs, and she gasped against his mouth, and he pulled at her bottom lip with his teeth. She wanted so badly to lay him back and crawl over him, but somehow she knew he needed to be the one. This was his time to show her what he wanted, how he felt. As much as she wanted to deepen the kiss, she held on and forced herself to stay in control of her desires.

His hands gripped her waist, and she moaned softly when his tongue grazed her lips. She opened up to him, letting him taste her. Her heart thundered at the feel of his tongue sliding against hers, soft and warm and wet. He could feel her trembling. Or was that him trembling? Hell, maybe it was both of them. But he couldn't stop. He couldn't give her up just yet.

Her hand rested on his chest, just where his shirt dipped down to reveal his chest. Her fingers stroked his coarse chest hair, and his hand slid up her back, tracing over the curve of her back and down her spine. And then he lay her down, never breaking the kiss. He lay next to her in the bunk, his lips against hers, his groin pressed against the side of her hips. His hand trailed up her ribcage, brushing over her breast, and she let him go as far as he was willing to go.

When he did break the kiss, she feared it was over, but he quickly bent down to kiss her neck, his tongue darting out to taste her salty sweet skin. She arched her back, pushing up, and she felt his teeth graze her collarbone. Her hands were in his hair now, and she was writhing on the bunk, desperate for more of his touch. And when her hands moved down his back, she felt his hand slide up her shirt, caressing her stomach. Her muscles jumped reflexively, and he chuckled against the hollow of her throat. He kissed her there once more, and then he raised his head and looked into her eyes. She smiled up at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty and hope and longing. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, and she closed her eyes, relishing the feeling.

"You ready?" he finally asked. Her breath caught in her throat. She nodded, not entirely sure what she was saying yes to. And he finally shifted on the bunk, stood and picked her back up in his arms. He knew what she was thinking, and he couldn't help but smirk. "Thought you was hungry."

"Oh. Yeah, I am," she replied with a giggle. Now she was hungry for more than just food..

"Well, I ain't gonna let ya starve." He started for the cell door with her.

"Stop," Carol insisted. He did as she asked, and she wriggled, indicating that she wanted to be put down. He eyed her but gently set her down. She stood, putting all of her weight onto one foot and keeping her arms wrapped around his neck. "One more thing." She leaned in, pressing her lips against his, letting him know that it was ok. She wanted what he wanted.

Her tongue begged entrance to his mouth, and he opened up to her, letting her do the work. Her hands were on his hips, her thumbs poking through his belt loops, and her mouth was hot and soft against his. She pressed into him, her nipples hard little buds, and she could feel him getting hard in his pants. She smiled against his lips and broke the kiss, brushing her thumb over his lower lip. "Okay. We can go now." His eyes were darkened with desire, and he leaned down, brushing his lips over her ear.

"I'll take care of you later," he whispered, his voice low and gruff.

"Promise?" she asked, kissing his neck softly. He hoisted her up in his arms and gave her one more kiss.

"I always aim to keep my promises. Don't plan on stoppin' now." With that, he took off with her in his arms giving fuck all about what anybody said about it or what looks they may have shot in his direction. They could say what they wanted, but Daryl was tired of hiding. He was tired of sidestepping and avoiding what he wanted; what he needed. He was done with all of that, and when he felt Carol's arms tighten around him, he thanked whatever power had brought her into his life. He would be perfectly happy to take care of her for the rest of his life.