He'd found the bracelet in a house not far from their current campsite on the road to D.C. He and Rick and Michonne had been on a run looking for batteries and a whole list of supplies Eugene had asked for. Several kinds of metal were scratched down on the piece of paper Daryl was given and so he'd figured a jewelry box a good place to plunder.

The bracelet was simple. Mostly just a black cord rope with the tiniest little silver cross charm dangling from the middle. But as soon as he saw it, he saw her. And he knew she liked bracelets, liked jewelry of all kinds really. And he knew her faith was important to her like it had been important to her father.

At first, he didn't grab it. Just proceeded to glare at it like it had spooked him and deserved some sort of asinine punishment. He continued to put the other gold and silver pieces into his bag, but couldn't bring himself to pick up that damn bracelet. The struggle within him was strong. He wondered whether or not giving her some kind of present was a thing he should be doing. He tried to imagine the look she'd give him or the things he'd say to her and these thoughts froze him in place. Crippled him with a fear he'd never known.

"You okay up there?" Rick called from the bottom floor of the house. He could hear Michonne and him talking about their own little found prizes.

"Yeah, just a second." It was now or never. Closing his eyes because that somehow made the whole thing less real, he grabbed the bracelet and shoved it into his pocket.

A week later and many miles closer to Washington, Daryl still had that damn bracelet burning a hole in his pocket. And it was ridiculous. It really goddamn was because he'd brought back things for others before. Brought Carl and Michonne candy and comics. Brought Rick books. Hell, he'd kept Maggie and Glenn more than well-stocked in the condom department which should have been a much more embarrassing thing. Except it wasn't, not by a mile. Because this involved him and her. And him and her was a thought he kept trying to not to think.

But finally one night, he volunteered to take first watch. Normally, Rick and Michonne took first watch but they'd been on another run today and you could see the exhaustion weighing them down. So he volunteered and headed out to sit atop the abandoned ambulance they'd made camp around. Less than five minutes later, he heard someone climbing up to join him. He expected to see Carol or Glenn or even Carl, but instead, it was her blonde head that slowly emerged.

She smiled at him free from reservations or fear. He smiled back buried beneath reservations and fear. But he knew if he didn't she'd relentlessly dog him about it until he'd end up giving in and smiling anyway. She didn't let him get away with much of his bullshit anymore.

"Brought you dinner. Didn't see you eat earlier." She sidled up beside him. Plopping herself right down next to him. Personal space be damned. Her whole left side was pressed close to his whole right side. And this closeness muddled his brain no matter how many times she did it. And he was pretty sure she was doing it on purpose these days.

"Not really hungry. You should have it. Need to get some meat on those bones. Keep you warmer as the winter comes." He fiddled with his fingernails. Chewing on the corners. Not so much because she made him nervous, but because he needed to keep his hands occupied or they'd do things against the rules. He couldn't leave them to their own devices.

"You calling me skinny, Dixon?" She placed the small bowl of meat on his leg and took a small bite. "Why don't we share?" And so they did, in companionable silence for a long time.

The night grew longer and darker around them. And that bracelet was the only thing he could concentrate on as she softly hummed next to him. In another now or never moment, he pushed his hand into his pocket and pulled the thing out, all but shoving it at her. "Here."

She looked at him in confusion, but took the small token from him without protest. That's when he realized that it was too dark for her to actually see much of it, but the deed was over and done with now. He couldn't take it back. "It's not much. Nothing at all, really. But I thought maybe you could wear it and think of Hershel."

She just sat there, staring at it. Rubbing the cord between her fingers, tracing the outline of the miniature cross. Finally, she looked at him. "It's beautiful. But I'd rather think of you when I wear it."

Something huge and searing that burned within him broke free at her words and he had to swallow to hold it back. His throat grew dry and his heart went berserk and he had no clue what to do or say anymore or ever again. So he just sat there beside her, waiting.

She handed the bracelet back to him which was like a punch in the gut because his first thought was that she was rejecting the gift, rejecting him. But then her soft voice calmed his irrational mind. "Help me put it on?" She gave him her right wrist. The one without the multitude of bangles she already wore. The one without the scar.

He took the bracelet from her, but not the wrist. Instead, He reached down to grab the damaged hand. And one by one, gently and with an almost aching slowness, he began to remove the other jewelry from her wrist. At first, she flinched, tightened, and tried to pull back. But he held firm and kept going. As more and more of her pale flesh was revealed to him, he lost more and more of himself to her.

And finally, her arm was unburdened. Left blemished and marred under the moonlight. Blemished and marred but free. He allowed himself one small moment, one tiny movement of his thumb over her scar. And then he wrapped the black rope around her wrist and clasped the lock and placed the cross right over the jagged scar tissue. The cross where Christ had died for mankind's sins next to the scar where she had decided to live with hers.

Her fingers laced themselves through this and she scooted as close to him as possibility would allow. She laid her head on his shoulder and he could feel her tears washing her clean. And for once, his mind was clear and free and calm as he sat so close to her. And for once, he didn't wonder about what he was doing and what she was doing and what they were doing. Because for once, it just didn't matter. And he hoped it would never matter again.