Damaged

A Caryl Fanfiction

A/N: Hello avid TWD fans! It's been quite some time since I tried my hand at writing fan fiction, but I've been super inspired lately, so hopefully this will end up being productive rather than destructive.

I guess this whole idea started for me a few weeks ago when I met the man behind the inspiration-Norman Reedus. I had been a fan of Boondock Saints from awhile back, but when he came on Walking Dead, I was super excited, and he's had such an amazing character arc in the last two seasons. I got a chance to meet him in Philly just over a month ago at Wizard Con, and he was such a complete sweetheart. (He smelled like oranges too!) I could get into much more depth about it, but I should really be talking more about my story.

I've been studying the show for weeks now, trying to take in every little detail about the characters so that I could really try to get inside their heads. (I think I can honestly now say that I am starting to think like Daryl. Forget WWJD…It's WWDDD) I also did a LOT of studying on the layout of the prison so I could make that whole situation sound as real as possible. That doesn't mean that there won't be things in there that aren't different from the show. There are also many things that do not imitate the novels, so just be forewarned. They are two completely different entities in my opinion.

I tried to do every character justice to the best of my ability, but the fun part about writing this way is that I get to make up their backstories. Daryl obviously has no backstory because (and I hope I'm not ruining this for anyone) he's not in the graphic novels. Carol really had no past to speak of other than her abusive husband and being a housewife, so I definitely took some liberties there. I hope I don't offend anyone with the use of language either. Daryl's language can get very colorful at times, and he tends to take the Lord's name in vain a lot, but that's just part of the character. I've rated this as mature for that very reason. There will also be some violence and situations of a sexual nature down the line, but I will point them out as I go along.

The story starts six months after the Governor's attack on the prison, so I'm basing my actions upon what has happened up until that point. While I will be mentioning the Governor a lot, I do not have plans to actually have him in the story. This is mainly a Caryl story, with a lot of interaction between them and the other characters. That being said, I hope you enjoy my story, and I LOVE feedback so feel free to send me a line…just try not to be too harsh. We all want to be writers, but there's a fine line between constructive criticism and just being down right mean.

Also, I do not own The Walking Dead or anything affiliated with it. All I own is my imagination.

Ch1.

The jail was full to the brim. Well as far as Daryl was concerned, it was. He hated large crowds of people all gathered together in one space. That's why he never went to any hunting or sporting events before all of this. No amount of anything was gonna get Daryl Dixon in an arena full of hundreds of ignorant morons. They just wanted to prance around acting like they knew shit and had it all together. Daryl knew better. They were all a bunch of douchebags.

He growled angrily at the tent that was currently giving him issues. One of the frames was bent and it wouldn't pop up the way it was supposed to. Who the hell had packed the tents away last time they used them? Probably Glenn. He didn't have any respect for how to handle another man's property. Damn Korean was gonna get an earful later.

"Fuckin' thing…" He muttered under his breath.

It didn't help that the prison sat on a slight incline, even around the perimeter, making setting up the tent in a flat area nearly impossible. That was only adding to his frustrations. He'd probably end up setting it up over a bed of rocks that jabbed into his back all night too. He heard a raspy growl and looked up at a walker who was desperately clawing at the closed gate ten yards away. No way he was getting in, but it was still annoying.

"Shut up dumbass! I'm tryin' to concentrate!"

And why was he even doing this? All because six months before, the Governor went completely fucking psycho and attacked them. In the end he'd managed to kill Merle, Andrea, and all his men, and then proceeded to disappear. They took the rest of the survivors in, but Daryl had had enough. He didn't like enclosed walls much in the first place, but he couldn't stand to be under that roof with a bunch of whining babies anymore. He'd once considered this his home, or at least the closest thing he'd had to one in a long time. When he'd been on the run with Merle, they'd never stayed in one place for too long. Hell, he felt like he'd been on the run his whole life. First from his ever-loving bastard of a father, then from the law, and now from fucking walkers. No wonder he could never get a moments rest.

As he turned to grab for the next rod, he slipped on the terrain and went down at an odd angle on his foot. His ankle turned and he immediately felt searing pain shoot up his leg.

"GGGAAAAAAAHHHHHH DAAAAAAMMMMIIIIIITTT!"

"Having a problem there Daryl?" Rick's voice rung out in the distance as he made his way over to where the partially-erect tent was stationed.

"Naaw," He answered sarcastically; hopping around like a moron. "Just having myself a little fun time with this fuckin' tent."

"What happened?"

"Damn thing's messed up and I just busted my ankle." He exclaimed loudly. "Who the hell put the camping gear away last? Have half a mind to bring em' out here and make 'em fix it."

Rick made a face. "Pretty sure it was Herschel."

Well shit. He wasn't about to make an old crippled man come out and do nothing. So much for that theory.

"Mind if I borrow yours? I won't do nothin' like this to it. If I do, you have full permission to shoot me in the ass with an arrow."

Rick laughed. "Well that's quite an offer. Let me go grab it and I'll help you get it set up."

"Thanks man."

"Why you down here anyway?" Rick inquired. "Someone givin' you a problem?"

Daryl shook his head. "Naw, just too many people crammed in that prison. Figured I could be more help out here guardin' the perimeter, so I just decided to camp out for a while. Keep a better eye out for visitors too."

Rick shook his head in sympathy and turned back towards the building. Daryl had a feeling that he understood his quest for solitude better than anyone else. With Lori gone, his kids to care for, and a large group of people to herd around, he didn't have a moment for himself. If he did go off alone for any amount of time, people started wondering if he was going crazy again. In Daryl's eyes, it was a wonder he hadn't gone crazy from people worrying about whether he was going crazy or not.

He didn't envy Rick, but he didn't pity him neither.

Ain't easy being the leader. Sure glad I ain't one.

"Come on sweetie, settle down…" Carol attempted to soothe a crying Judith as she bounced her up and down while the child howled loudly.

Ever since Judith started getting teeth, the poor thing was constantly miserable. They didn't have ice, let alone much of anything cold for her to munch on to help ease the pain of her tender gums. Carol longed for the days of ice packs and cold teething rings, but then she remembered what she had had to put up with in order to have such simple luxuries. On second thought, she could live without them.

"Shhhh…I know it hurts baby." She kissed Judith's sweet head as big teardrops rolled down her pudgy cheeks. "Unfortunately this is just the start of life's little cruelties."

Carol paced the small cell with the baby, trying to get her to ease up so that others could settle down for the night. It was always worse at night. With twenty five new people in the prison, it was a lot louder than it had been before, but a lot of the elderly people were complaining about not being able to sleep due to the child's cries. It wasn't like she could help it. She had no idea why she was in so much pain all the time. Carol wished she could do a lot of things, including make both parties happy, but it was out of her hands like the rest of the things in the universe.

She had believed in God all her life, even back when her husband had decided to use her as his personal punching bag and look at his own daughter with lustful eyes. Then that same bastard of a husband was killed by walkers and she thought He'd finally answered her prayers, until her daughter was cruelly ripped from this life as well. After everything He had put her through, she wondered if she wasn't starting to lose her faith after all.

Then came Daryl. That baffling, stubborn, and sometimes downright aggravating man. He'd saved her life more times than she could count. She wanted to think that in some small way, she may have saved his as well, but he'd never admit it. They were two people cut from the same cloth. Both were used and abused nearly their whole lives and struggling day by day to make sense of the world they'd been left in. Most people in the camp had been through plenty of horrors themselves, but all she had to do was look at Daryl and she could almost always tell what he was thinking. He was a simple man, and she adored that about him.

"Carol?"

She spun around at the sound of Rick's voice at the opening of the cell. She had been in a daze, and her heart sputtered a little at the noise. It reminded her of when Ed used to come home after getting drunk and yell for her to come upstairs to the bedroom. Her stomach churned.

"Oh Rick. Sorry I didn't see you come up."

"It's all right. I just wanted to tell you that I'll be back in a little while to take Judith. I need to help Daryl put up this tent in the yard and then I'll come get her so you can take a break."

Carol frowned. "What's Daryl doing with a tent in the yard?"

Rick sighed. "He says he wants to stay down there from now on. I think having all these people in close proximity is making him uneasy. He won't tell me that of course…"

"No, he wouldn't." Carol understood. "I'll tell you what. You take Judith and I'll take the tent down and help him set it up. Maybe I can get something out of him."

Rick put the bag down and picked up his infant daughter from her arms. "Thanks. You always get through to him when no one else can."

Carol grabbed the bag and headed for the door. "I know. Damaged men are my specialty."