Hey, everyone!

I owe you a thousand of apologies for the way I treated this story… I published almost a chapter per day for a week and then completely abandoned it for over a month. I'm truly sorry for that.

Thing is I was completely blocked after the season finale and had no idea where to go with this.

I decided to delete it and post it from the beginning. Those of you who have read it, please bother to read a second time, the language is much better with minor alterations overall.

To be very clear and honest with you, I have made a plan of the entire story to avoid falling in the same trap again. Therefore I know how it will play out. It's going to be very dark, with flickering lights of hope, as the title suggests. I will update twice a week, this time for sure :)

So, if you want to give me a chance, I promise the second time I'll worth it.

Enjoy!

The sun was setting when he came back.

They had all pretty much put together the pieces of Michonne's story about what had happened but no one knew what to say or what to expect so they spent most of the day exchanging worrisome glances, desperately trying not to mention the ominous feeling hanging in the air.

Carol had run to keep watch at the gate immediately. She wanted to be the first one to meet him when he came back. If he came back. Not knowing what to expect she kept scanning through the woods with wild eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Would he come back? What had happened to him and Merle? Why would they get themselves caught in the middle of this suicide mission? What if they took off again, this time for good? Even worse, what if… She didn't even know if they were alive, for Christ sakes! If he was alive! She felt dizzy and nauseated, not quite sure if she could survive him leaving her again without a word. Curling her fingers around the wire, she hung her head, wishing her options were not limited between death and abandonment, desperately fighting back the lump in her chest. All she was asking for was a third path, with Daryl alive and back to them; the rest they would figure out.

When Glen and Maggie came to relieve her, she refused to leave. Heading inside the prison would drive her crazy right now. Rick's spooked expression, uncoordinated eyes flickering around staring at the distance something invisible to the rest of them, Hershel's stoic prayers, Judith's wailings, Carl's blank face in sharp contrast with his tender age, Beth's pleading eyes always looking to her for advice, Michonne's loaded silences. They were her beloved, makeshift family, but if she had any more of this right now she would probably reach her breaking point. So, when the young couple broke the news of their imminent wedding to her she smiled gently, hugged them tight and wished them all the best like a robot, no real joy reaching a heart overwhelmed by fear and anguish for his destiny. And when Glen started blurting excuses under Maggie's guilty gaze for the way they had treated Daryl's attempt for reconciliation with Merle, she interrupted him abruptly stating that they had every right to feel the way they did.

Watching them finally marching away, holding hands, she exhaled her relief. At least she was alone again. The chilly breeze was clearing her head, helping her to keep her attention away from the deafening screams of echoing inside her head or the sound of the ragged breaths escaping her lungs. But nothing could simmer down her inner turmoil, scorching her inside out. Where are you? She leaned heavily against the gate, the cold metal digging in her fingers as she gritted her teeth to forcefully will a grain of self composure, clinging to the irrational hope that nothing bad, nothing irrevocably disastrous had happened.

Yes, any moment now, they would both appear behind the trees. The Dixon brothers, what a magnificent sight they usually were! Yes, they would probably be bloodied, dirty and pissed like hell at each other as always and it would be hard to tell how many of their bruises, cuts and wounds were caused by the soldiers of Woodbury or by a fight that started out of nothing between them. Yes, they would be puffing and grunting and glaring at her but they would be behind the safety of their solid walls and her heart would resume its normal beating. They would come back safe and sound and everything in this god forsaken world would be right again.

She instantly knew when her eyes caught his distant figure. The way he was dragging his legs, like every step was a painful battle he had to fight, the way his crossbow was swinging sluggishly from his shoulders… She just knew. All hope abandoned her, shattered in infinite tiny fragments. Pain gripped her heart as he covered the distance between them, not even once raising his head to look towards her.

When he approached the gate and she was able to have a better look of him, her heart dropped even more. He was covered in blood, head bowed, eyes red-rimmed and swollen, shoulders hunched, jaw clenched, hands fisted. Rage and sorrow radiated from every inch of his body. Never had she seen him so defeated, like he didn't know what to do with himself. His body was a cage, a confined vessel trapping his tension, turning his wrath against him, threatening to devour him.

He didn't acknowledge her when she let him in, refusing to meet her eyes; he kept walking towards the prison, evidently struggling for each step he took. She closed the gate hastily and chased after him. Horror had replaced her previous pain. Despair. The man in front of her was an open wound, all bleeding and suffering. But he was also as dangerous as an ensnared wild animal under her terrified gaze.

"Daryl…" she whispered softly, reaching for his arm.

He jerked away growling, not even turning to face her. Carol knew better that to try physical proximity again. She just kept following him, only a couple of steps behind him. When they walked inside the prison she stopped, watching him slowly climbing the stairs and heading to his cell. Everyone was gathering around her now, exchanging fearful looks, searching at her blue, wide eyes for insight. She shrugged; she had no idea what she was supposed to do. What anyone was supposed to do, fearing there was actually nothing that could be done.

Rick started heading for the stairs, but Hershel blocked his way with a stretched arm moments before Daryl reappeared on the top, armed to teeth with guns and knives. Everyone took a step behind as they slowly took in what Carol had realized from the first moment. He was dangerous now. It had been so long since the last time he had made a move against someone from the group they had almost forgotten how easily Daryl Dixon could be a fatal physical threat. Almost.

She tried her best to hold her ground as he walked past her, fighting with the logic that commanded her to stay as far away from him as possible and the need that urged her to drop in his arms. Everyone was frozen. The mask of lethal determination distorted his facial features. That man in front of them wasn't Daryl. He was a complete stranger with a murderous look in his eyes.

Nobody knew what to do. Rick walked quickly towards him, the menacing man over there, even if remotely recognizable at the moment, was his best friend. He didn't know what he was up to and he couldn't let him put his life in jeopardy. So, before Carol could overcome the numbing feeling that was spreading across the body and make a move to stop him, Rick was grabbing Daryl's shoulder.

He moved so fast nobody had a chance to even blink. Rick found himself nailed against the wall, his head colliding hard with the concrete, a sharp blade grazing his throat. A collective gasp split the dead silence of the prison like a lightning and everyone froze at the roaring figure that seemed to be the center of their small universe.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME" Daryl barked pointedly, darkened eyes piercing the man he had always trusted blindly with his life without actually seeing him.

Rick blinked but remained completely still, well aware now of the danger he was in. Everyone held a breath at the scene in front of them. Carl's jaw dropped, Maggie shuffled closer to Glenn, Michonne's hand reached for the katana in her back. Carol took a guarded step towards the two men, ignoring her shaking hands and her quivering knees.

"Daryl…" She said softly, trying not to agitate him. "It's Rick. It's Rick," she pleaded, cussing the trembling sound of her voice.

After what seemed like forever he inhaled sharply, withdrew the knife from Rick's neck, spun around and walked away from them, not even casting anyone as much as a glance.

Rick released the breath he was withholding and Carl ran in his arms. They all watched Daryl marching to the tombs in silence, ironically relieved that he was not heading outside, to Woodbury.

Carol shuddered violently, the nauseating dizziness from before was claiming the last remnants of clarity in her mind. He was not a super hero; he was not indestructible or invincible; he was just a man. A strong one, yes; the strongest, most skilled and capable man to defend himself that she had ever known, but still. In the end of the day, he was just a man. He was the man she cared and loved so deeply and he was going all alone in those dreadful tunnels swamped with walkers. She knew perfectly well that trying to join him would be entirely pointless right now. He had shut down completely, he needed time alone and he needed to kill something to blow off some steam. His protective walls were back, fortifying him in his ivory tower, alienating him from everyone, even from her. If she invaded his personal space right now she would be flirting with the chance to get herself killed and give him more things to regret and deal with later.

Helplessness and desperation took over her, the cell block began to spin and she dropped on her knees, throwing up and shaking violently as spasms penetrated her slim frame. After a while, the contents of her stomach were spread on the floor. She tried to hold back her tears, embarrassed of her sudden breakdown in plain sight, but some muffled sobs escaped her before she swallowed then down. Maggie knelt down next to her, gently stroking her back and Rick offered a hand to help her stand on her feet. Slowly regaining her composure, Carol grasped Rick's hand and dragged herself off the floor. It took her everything she had to steady herself and meet all these pairs of eyes watching her warily, concern wrinkling their expressions.

They all knew what they had witnessed when Daryl stormed in and out of the cell block and what it meant to her. But she didn't want them to worry about her. She didn't want to put additional burden to their shoulders; everyone had enough trouble without her fretting. She refused to be a pathetic, meek, needy woman right now; she had to remain strong for everyone, especially for him. So she steeled herself, lifted he head and gave them all a sad smile, resting her hands on her hips.

"I'll clean this mess," she mumbled chokingly.

"I'll do it." Maggie jumped up and disappeared immediately. Carol didn't protest; all her strength was drained from her body.

She locked eyes with Hershel trying desperately to find some hope in the wisdom glowing inside them and caressed Rick's chest when he locked his arm around her neck and planted a tender kiss in her forehead. But she shook her head when Beth offered to pass Judith to her. She watched Glenn cupping his head with his hands, looking guilty and defeated. Michonne was chewing her bottom lip, qualms piercing her confidence. Carol sucked in a deep breath.

"It's nobody's fault," she stated flatly, mustering all her courage to shove away her own guilt. "When he comes back, I'll talk to him. It's gonna be just fine," she added nodding her head in an effort to sound convincing and reassuring more to herself than to rest of them, his own words when Sophia went missing throbbing in her ears.

As everyone tried to resume their normal activities, she slowly walked into her cell and sat in her cot, the gears in her head twirling frantically.

How would she throw down these new walls Daryl had built up to shield himself? Was there even a way to reach him? To let him know they were still here, still his family and they loved him? Did it even matter to him right now? Would he blame them for Merle's fate? What if this time he was too far gone, too far lost for her to find him and drag him back?

To avoid having a panic attack right there, she tugged her knees under her chin, hugging herself tightly and focused on stabilizing her breath and do the only thing she could do right now. Wait for him to come back. Hope that inside this unleashed beast, deeply immersed in a desolate abyss of grief, Daryl was crumpled up in a corner, waiting for a hand to drag him towards the light. Pray that her aching fingers had the power to provide him this solace.

To be continued…

Thank you all for reading :) A review would be much appreciated!