AN: so this was a prompt from Serpentinefire. I'm not sure that I like how it turned out :/but I have such writers block lately I was happy to write anything. This is set during the season 8 premiere.

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead

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It was happening, they were here on the edge. The precipice of an a war. Daryl saw Carol from a distance as he approached the bridge and even now, his heart thumped painfully in his chest. She was here. He had not seen her in so long. It felt like an eternity had passed since when she had left The Alexandria Safe zone with Ezekiel and his followers, but in truth it had been maybe a few weeks. Every day he was apart from her seemed to dredge on for an eternity.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, in a tightly sealed box in his brain that he kept firmly locked, he knew why. He knew why it hurt to wake up, everyday and know she was not there. He knew why he went to sleep wondering where she was, if she was okay, if she was safe, ...if she needed him. He knew why he obsessively wondered if she'd gone looking for comfort again in all the wrong places. Namely that asshole King, who was a little too friendly with Carol in Daryl's opinion.

Daryl knew why it bothered him, just like he'd known why, he'd felt as though he was drowning in rage when he realized what was happening between her and Tobin. But, just like then, he refused to acknowledge it. He refused to take it out of that tightly guarded box in his mind and examine his feelings.

It was his very own mythical Pandora's box nestled in his mind. Once he opened that box he knew without a doubt there would be no going back, and that thought more than anything, terrified him.

Something's he thought were better left unsaid. Her presence in his life was...everything. When she was gone, he'd fallen apart. Carol kept some part of him alive. She'd lit a spark in him, that he had not know was there. Carol was hope, and when she was gone, it crumbled.

He wasn't sure when it had happened. When she'd become his reason to live. He hadn't known it at the prison, but it must have started there, because the day everything had gone to hell, the day Rick told him that he'd banished her, he was pretty sure he'd felt the moment his heart had shattered. It had been painful to breathe. He'd needed to put his head down because he was suddenly lightheaded and overwhelmed by the urge to punch Rick in the face. If he had time he would have thought more on it then. But he hadn't.

The pain he'd felt, at Carol's absence had almost incapacitated him when he was travelling with Beth. He'd let it consume him, and then it had made him mess up. Beth had payed the price. The feelings that had started to overwhelm his soul had left him almost unable to function. How could he survive, if Carol was gone? He'd closed that door tightly on those feelings before that had a chance to drag him under. But it hadn't been enough. His distraction had been costly, and in the end Beth had suffered.

No Dixon had ever found a balance. A balance to let someone in, and let their presence, their love be a balm to their soul. To let someone fit themselves into their life. To be complete. Instead, it was always an obsessive all consuming passion. His daddy had drowned in the love he'd felt for his momma. His daddy had let it destroy the man he was, until there was nothing left of his daddy but a drunken possessive psychopath.

Merle, had let it happen to him too. A girlfriend that most of the town considered too good for him. Chantal had been the daughter of a doctor, a doctor who had later on run for the Senate. A doctor who did not consider Merle Dixon good enough for his daughter. A doctor who'd wisked his daughter away to a very private clinic when Chantal had confessed to being pregnant. A doctor who had then sent Chantal to a boarding school in Europe.

Merle was never the same.

Hell he'd seen it over and over in his own group. Rick, Lori, Shane, Tyreese, Sasha, Bob, Abraham, Rosita, Tara, Denise, fuck even Maggie and Glenn, he thought with a wince, they had all let someone in, and they were worse off because of it.

It was enough, that Carol was in his life. It was enough that Carol existed. It didn't matter that he ached every night for things he couldn't have. It didn't matter that, his fingers all but hummed to touch her when she was near. It didn't matter that every night he dreamt of her face, her eyes, her smile, her laugh.

Those dreams in someway kept him going, he lived every desire in those dreams, and when he woke, he put them away. Nothing any good would come of those dreams.

She was drawn to him when he stopped the bike, whatever it was that hung in the air between them, at least he knew, she felt it too.

She made her way over, her eyes assessing him, when Carol looked at him this way, he felt...loved. She seemed to be cataloging everything about him, checking him over for any injuries, he always saw relief slump her shoulders, when she saw he was ok.

"Hey." She said when she was standing in front of him, he was still sitting on the bike.

"Any problems?" She asked, she was rocking on the balls of her feet like she was filled with nervous energy.

"Naw, 'Chonne and Rosita have the herd following them, I'm gonna blow some charges along the way, block off any stranglers. Like a fucking cattle chute, they'll head right where we want them."

They were setting up a massive herd, one that would bear down right on the Saviours compound. He and Michonne and Rosita had been at it all day. Rounding up small herds they found, forming one large herd. Carol and Tara and Morgan had been assigned look out on the bridge. Giving them directions on any passing herd.

He nodded to Tara and Morgan as they kept a distance giving them a chance to talk. He growled slightly when Tara wiggles her eyebrows and made a lewd sexual gesture.

Carol looking over her shoulder at Tara across the bridge catching her in the act, she snorted than turned back to him. Taking another step forward, and then anotheR. Get up, move, don't let her get so close. His mind was practically yelling, but he only stared at her in wonder, wondering how someone so perfect, so beautiful could exist in this hellish world. She set her hand on his shoulder and he opened his legs as she stepped even closer. He shivered at the light touch of her fingertips on his neck.

"You know, I'm pretty sure we could find you

a helmet, .." she murmured thoughtfully.

He pfft out a chuckle trying to hide the tremors that rolled through his body at her touch. "Don't need a helmet." He grunted. Fuck please, please stop touching me, he thought to himself. He couldn't make himself pull away. Gone were the days when he flinched at her touch. Her touch seemed to feed his soul now. He practically wanted to purr, rub his body against hers. Mark her with his scent.

Her hand came up and cupped his cheek..she looked thoughtful, like she wanted to say something, she bit her lip in thought. "Just...just stay safe..." she said then pulled herself into his body, it always amazed him how, she just fit. Like every curve on her body was meant to fit into every plane of his. His arms settled around her waist, and he couldn't stop himself from breathing her in. Her face was buried in his neck. " Just stay safe .." she whispered again "For me".

She pulled back, and turned to walk away, but he grabbed her hand, not really sure what he wanted to say. He wanted her to hear him, he needed her to hear him, but he wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. Her hand slipped from his grasp, her soft skin sliding through his fingertips sending a sense of intense loss to his gut. It was always this way. He was like an addict waiting for his next fix. So he whispered the one thing he was able to say before starting his bike and driving away.

"Nine lives."