AN: Yes, I'm just as shocked at the rest of you. I honestly didn't think I would be writing a new Caryl fic anytime soon, or maybe ever again. But I had an idea this morning and it kept gnawing at me until I had a whole story in my mind that I've decided to share. It's been so long since I've contributed to this fandom that I have no idea what to expect. But I know I used to love dropping off a chapter and anticipating hearing what you all think of it and I know that hasn't changed. So… here we go :)

The first thing she did was cut her hair. Daryl could still see the long white-grey whisps falling to the ground around her as she hacked at it blindly. He hadn't said a word to her about it since that day, almost a month earlier, and he never would. What she chose to do, or not do, with her hair was none of his business. She looked beautiful either way, and Daryl was certain she would probably look beautiful bald too. Maybe you should tell her that, a voice piped up inside his head. There were always voices telling him what he should do, but following through and listening to the advice of his conscience, or wherever those voices were coming from, had never been his strong suit.

The haircut happened the night they left. Well, technically it had been the night he left, but deep down he knew Carol would follow him. Maybe he'd even subconsciously made sure of it, moving at a slower pace than he could have, not bothering to hide his tracks, and even leaving his goodbye note where he knew she would have found it not long after he took off. What Daryl hadn't expected at all though, was that she never tried to talk him into going back, not once. It became just the two of them, alone, facing the world together.

"Maybe this is the way it was always supposed to be," she commented one night. Those words stuck with him and as the days passed by he actually started to believe it.

They never talked about the past or what had happened. In the few days of aftermath, before he'd taken off from Hilltop in the middle of the night, there had been lots of talking, lots of crying… and so much pain. Too much pain. Daryl was tired of the pain - his own, and everyone else's. He'd finally realized that no matter how hard he tried he couldn't stop the agony that continued to fall upon them. Perhaps he was a coward for leaving, but with very few people left he was close to… there really weren't any opinions that mattered - only hers.

She'd found him easily, caught up before morning light with a bag of supplies and her bow slung across her body. Not once did she question his motives or ask for any sort of explanation. She never looked at him with the hatred and disappointment he'd been expecting. The only thing she asked him that first day was, "Where are we going?" We. He liked the sound of that. She was the only person he could imagine being a "we" with anymore. Ironically, a huge reason he'd run was to get away from her… yet he'd still made it so easy for her to follow.

If Daryl was being honest with himself he needed Carol to follow him because he would have gone back, for her. He had known her for over a decade by then and with what was left of the world and the people in it she was the only constant thing he had left. Maybe she knew he wanted her to follow him. Maybe that's why she never questioned him or pushed for answers. If there was one thing he knew about Carol it was that she was incredibly smart and intuitive, especially when it came to him.

There was a time before that he'd lived on his own, away from everyone. It had been Carol who brought him back then, which was why he'd expected the same result this time. Even back then though, without her visits to look forward to, he probably would have went back on his own. He was a fool to ever believe he could stay away from her for long. What if you lose her? That voice asked. Daryl scowled and ignored it. He wouldn't lose her. He couldn't. She was the only thing left that was still good about the world.

Daryl took some comfort in the fact that they had completely wiped out the Whisperers before he left. It would have weighed far too heavy on his conscience to know he'd left people, decent people, behind with those monsters still out there. What those animals had done… he didn't allow himself to think about it because the images in his mind could physically bring him to his knees if he let them. Heads with no bodies, lined up on pikes. Countless severed heads. Men, women… children… Henry.

With all the horrors he'd seen Daryl had believed nothing could get to him, but seeing that boy's head… Carol's son, the kid he was supposed to protect, up there on that spike with blood still dripping… Daryl had actually wretched, not once, but twice.

Thankfully he'd got his shit together in time to prevent Carol from seeing it. Ezekiel on the other hand, hadn't been so lucky. He saw them all. His people. Jerry even. And of course, his son - Henry. The King never recovered. His mind left him and his life followed soon after when he took it himself. In a matter of two days Carol had lost everyone she cared about… everyone but Daryl. Those who weren't beheaded were killed in the battle that followed.

Carol called Ezekiel a coward afterwards. She said he'd always been a coward and she should have let herself see it before. But she was angry and confused, so Daryl was quite certain it was just grief and she didn't really mean it. For those two days he'd stayed at Hilltop and watched her grieve she never took it out on him or blamed him for anything. But he was doing a good job of blaming himself, for Henry at least.

She also never showed anger at him for leaving her behind when she'd already lost everything else. Again, he'd put enough guilt on himself for that too. He tried to approach it one night as they sat staring at a fire, cooking the food they had caught that day. "I'm sorry I left you," he'd said.

"I left you once too," she'd replied. And that was the end of it.

With so much unspoken between them they had left everything else behind and ventured out into the world together. Somehow without verbalizing it they had made a pact to leave everything bad in the past and start over - again. She had spoke those words to him so many years ago, repeating the very words he'd said to her. We get to start over. This time neither one of them had to say it - they just did it.

They had just stopped for the night and were setting up camp when he noticed Carol looking at him. "What?" he grumbled.

"I can't stop thinking about it, that place," she said with a shrug.

Daryl caught a glimpse of her eyes and wished he hadn't. He saw a sparkle there that he hadn't seen in a long, long time. There was curiosity and a sliver of hope. How could he continue to deny her this? Or anything. Wasn't the most important thing in the world to him her happiness? "We decided it was too risky," Daryl protested weakly.

Carol smiled at him. "We've got out of a jam or two over the years… if it's not what it seems - we'll leave. Escape. Whatever." Daryl sighed. They both knew that if something sounded too good to be true it likely was. "We've been out here over a month. I can keep doing this for as long as we need to, but what if we don't need to anymore? What if there really is a better life?"

He couldn't say no to her. Why couldn't he just say no? "Okay, fine, let's check it out." Fuck. The words were out of his mouth and he couldn't take them back. Her smile brightened even more. The sun was setting behind her and her pretty face was framed with unruly grey curls. "But there's no way I'm pretending to be something I ain't."

"I would never dream of asking you to do that," she replied, with a sly grin. Carol shrugged, "We're pretty much a couple anyway. No sense in arguing semantics." Daryl shook his head, pretending he was annoyed, but deep down he actually liked how that "couple" thing sounded.

He watched her trot off to start building a fire, with more pep in her step than he'd seen since they left. There was an uneasy feeling in his stomach about this place he'd agreed to check out, this "Fantasy Island" or "Utopia" as people apparently called it. Daryl wished they'd never met the couple they'd happened upon two weeks earlier, the pretty blonde woman and the handsome man who looked and sounded every bit the cowboy that he was, six shooters and all. John and June. He still wasn't sure they could be trusted, even though he'd quickly grown to like both of them in the short time they spent together.

It all began 15 days earlier when there was a gunshot, the thud of a bolt hitting its target and two men reaching for the same big grey rabbit...

End Note: As I was preparing to post this I realized that this fic will eventually violate the content ratings for FF . net as it will be considered MA or explicit sexual content. I know most of my caryl readers follow me here, but if you enjoyed the first chapter and want to read more please go to AO3 and find me under the same username or same fic title. Sorry if this is confusing, I just wanted to be sure I'm able to reach out to those of you who have been loyal readers here. You don't have to have an account to read on A 03 and can leave feedback as a guest if you like. Thanks!