Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Rated: Mature (FFnet)/Explicit (AO3)

Tags: *Carol Peletier/Daryl Dixon, *Carol Peletier, *Daryl Dixon, *Rick Grimes, *Morgan Jones, *Aaron, *Dwight, *Negan, *Alternate Universe (Completely), *Trigger warnings for abuse, *Alexandria Safe Zone, *Torture (Implied) Daryl, *Torture (Actual) Dwight, *Gore, *Lots of blood, *Never written anything this graphic, *Healing/Comfort

Summary: After a successful raid on the Sanctuary by the joined communities, Rick brings home a broken and bitter Daryl. Can Carol battle past the walls he's built to help him heal, or has she lost him forever?

A/n: So … another plot bunny which won't leave me alone. I added trigger warnings, so read at your own risk. I'll try not to make it too graphic, but no promises. I know the summary is shite, but it is what it is, and I don't want to give too much away. Where's the fun in that? This is all Caryl, so if that's not your pairing, you might want to skip this one. Just know, Daryl didn't escape the Sanctuary (ala 07x08). He's going to be rescued by Rick and crew. And it's not going to be pretty. Happy reading!

Burn It Down and Make Me See (Only Your Love Can Set Me Free)

By:

CharlotteAshmore

Chapter One: Darkness

Carol stared down at the lone pomegranate in the basket on her kitchen table, her upper lip curled into a sneer as her eyes narrowed upon it. Ezekiel swore by them, but she only viewed it with contempt. That memory from her childhood, her fascination with Greek mythology, wouldn't let her go. All she could see in her mind's eye was the story of Hades and Persephone and that dreaded fruit. It would no doubt waste away to nothing in the basket, unable to eat it and not wanting to throw it out. Waste of any kind was taboo in their world now.

There was an apple, a few peaches, even a cluster of grapes. She plucked a peach from the basket, figuring it would go well with the oatmeal she'd made for her breakfast. She sighed as she picked up a small paring knife and began to skin the fruit. It wasn't that long ago she'd been able to scavenge with the best of them. Now, she rarely left the small cottage she'd been allotted, having a crate of supplies delivered once a week from the kingdom.

The solitude her self-imposed exile afforded her was welcome. Walkers rarely wandered near her home, the few who did easily dealt with. It was the humans she shied away from, humans corrupted by their world who were far more dangerous. Carol was so tired of the killing. She did miss her family, however, but they were much better off without her. Or was it that she was better off without them? It was all becoming a blur. When she closed her eyes at night … that is when she was revisited by the ghosts of the people she'd slain. People she'd slain to protect those she loved.

Carol sighed as she put the pit of the peach aside and diced the meaty flesh to add to her hot cereal. She missed them terribly, loved them to the very depths of her soul, but to stay with them, to protect them, it would've been inevitable … to kill again, and she didn't know if she could. Had Morgan told them where she was, even when he'd given his word he wouldn't? Had they looked for her? Did they miss her? Was she hurting them more by staying away?

The knife clattered to the table, her lower lip trembling as tears smarted at her eyes. The group was a force to be reckoned with. They would manage just fine without her. His face sprang up in her mind and she couldn't bite back the pang of bitterness which made her chest ache. Daryl. If anyone would have been grieved with her absence, it would be her dearest friend. Was he even … NO! She couldn't think that way. He was alive, at Rick's side, where he should be. She couldn't allow herself to believe otherwise, or it would break her. She didn't want to imagine a world without Daryl Dixon in it.

Carol pushed the peach aside and buried her face in her hands, appetite gone. She missed her feral redneck more than any of the others. The way he would hide behind his hair, thinking she didn't notice when he stared overlong at her, the sweet blush to his cheeks when he'd been caught, the way he would push past his walls to envelop her in his arms when she was in pain … Her heart throbbed in agony, as it always did when she allowed herself to think of him. She'd never loved anyone as she loved him. The love she'd felt for her daughter was different, though no less special, and she grieved for them both. Daryl was lost to her just as much as her precious Sophia, but it was her own choice. She couldn't look into his clear blue gaze and let him see her for the monster she'd become. It was better this way.

Her head shot up, the sound of heavy boots pillaging her front porch. Quickly, she dried her tears. It was probably Ezekiel or Morgan with another delivery, or even just the desire to check up on her. She'd warned them away – numerous times – but they refused to heed her words. They knew she was in pain and needed her space, but her new friends seemed to think it was unhealthy to be alone so much.

Carol pushed away from the table and rose to her feet, walking the few steps into her living room to the front door. The shadow against the window looked vaguely familiar, but she knew it was neither Ezekiel nor Morgan. Her fingers curled around the handle of the knife she still wore at her waist as her other hand reached for the doorknob, prepared for anything … except the man standing before her, looking as though he'd found his long-lost sister. "Rick …" she murmured quietly, feeling as if the floor had just dropped from beneath her.

"Carol," he choked out, pulling her into his arms. He embraced her much as he had that day in the forest outside Terminus, and she had to stifle a sob. "It's really you."

She allowed him to cling to her for a moment. It felt so good to be held by a member of her family. Her hands wrapped beneath his shoulders, giving herself that one brief minute, feeling him tremble beneath her touch. Something had happened, something dire to have her friend, her brother, in such a state. Her breath hitched, tears gathering in her eyes as she took a step back, fearing the worst. For why else would he seem so broken? "Daryl? Is he …"

"He's alive," he assured her, following her into the house and taking a seat beside her on the worn sofa.

Carol felt as if she couldn't breathe, her legs refusing to hold her any longer. Not Daryl … Not Daryl … He's alive … She repeated over and over within her own mind, the litany grounding her. She covered her mouth with her hand, willing herself to regain her composure. "But he's not with you?"

Rick shook his head sadly. "No. He was taken from us. God, Carol, there's so much I need to tell you," he said, raking a weary hand through his dark brown locks. "We've been looking for you for months."

"How did you find me?" she asked, averting her gaze to where her fingers twisted upon themselves nervously on her lap.

"Morgan."

She shook her head ruefully. "I should have known. Did he also tell you I wouldn't be coming back to Alexandria?"

"He might've mentioned that."

Carol pressed her lips into a firm line of disdain at yet another betrayal. "I can't go back, Rick. I need time."

He sighed, leaning forward to rest his forearms against his knees. "You think you're safe here? How long do you think you have before Negan comes knocking? Nowhere is safe from him."

She stilled, her nails digging little crescent moons into the palms of her hands. "Negan?" she gasped, remembering the raid they'd made on his compound, the memories of being held captive with Maggie still fresh in her mind. "I thought –"

Carol could see the pain lurking behind his clear blue eyes, the stiff way he held his shoulders. God, what could have happened to her friend to have made him this way, when before he'd exuded such confidence?

"We didn't get him, Carol. Everything went to hell after you left," he sighed. "Maggie … we were trying to get her to the doctor at Hilltop when we were ambushed. Negan and his saviors had already taken Daryl, Glenn and Rosita hostage. He had us all on our knees, telling us we belonged to him now. Said half of everything we owned now belonged to him."

Carol blinked in surprise. "Rick, you'd never bow to a madman like that. You didn't with the governor, nor with Dawn. I can't see you bowing down to this Negan person either."

A shudder ran through him as his mind wandered back to one of the worst nights of his life. "He didn't give us a choice. He killed Abraham right there in front of us … and Glenn," he said quietly, his voice raspy with emotion. "We had no choice."

She couldn't stop the deluge of tears coursing over her ashen cheeks over the loss of her family. Glenn … he was like her own son. She'd watched him grow into a man, always trying to remember Dale's teachings and strict moral code. She'd rejoiced when he'd found love in the middle of a world gone to hell. He was going to be a father. What was Maggie to do without him? And Abraham … he was a good soldier, dedicated to their family, always able to get a laugh from them. He was a fighter, and a good friend. And though she would mourn them with a heavy heart, she had to know … "Daryl?" Her voice was pleading as she reached over to twine her fingers with his, offering what comfort she could and seeking some for herself.

"Negan took him as a way to keep me under his thumb. As long as I toe the line, he won't send Daryl back to us in pieces."

Carol felt her chest tighten, her breath coming in sharp pants as panic pressed against her breastbone. "What are you doing to get him back? I know you have a plan, Rick. This is Daryl. You know he can't be confined. He needs his woods, his peace. He'll go mad if he's locked up!"

He pulled her against his chest and rubbed soothing circles over her back, trying to calm her. "Breathe, Carol. C'mon, now. Deep breaths," he crooned. "We're gathering forces to take out the Sanctuary where Negan and his people are. It's the other reason I'm here. I need to talk to the leader here to see if he would be willing to join us. Morgan told me this Ezekiel is having the same problems we are, the same as Hilltop. We have to stop him once and for all and take our lives back." He pressed a brotherly kiss to her temple. "I need you to come home."

"I can't. Rick, I –"

"Morgan told me why you're here, why you ran. No one is going to ask you to fight. The battle won't even touch our gates. We're taking the fight to Negan." He squeezed the hand he held lightly in his free one. "But we don't know what kind of shape we're going to find Daryl in. Negan has had him for months. The one time I did see him … God," he groaned, "he looked so lost. I'm sure we can patch him up physically, but he's going to need you, Carol. No one knows him better … not even me. Negan likes to play his mind games. You might be the only person to be able to reach him."

Her Daryl, she thought, her eyes slamming closed as the tears continued to fall. He needed her. A new purpose filled her, consumed her as she pushed herself off the sofa and rushed towards the small bedroom she'd claimed for herself.

"Where are you going? Carol!" Rick called after her.

She tossed her meager belongings into her backpack and reached for the jasper stone Daryl had given her so long ago which she kept on her bedside table. She looked at it every night before she closed her eyes to sleep, letting her memories of him lull her into slumber. It was precious to her simply because it had been from him. She couldn't leave it behind. Slipping it into her pocket, she retrieved her rifle from the corner and slung it onto her back. Her .45 she stuck in the waistband of her cargos.

Rick stared at her in surprise when she returned to the living room looking more like the Carol he knew rather than the empty shell she'd become. She looked ready to do battle, and it filled him with hope. "You're coming with me?"

She pulled the door open, expecting him to follow. "We're going to speak with Ezekiel about lending his aid to the cause … then we're going home. And let me tell you something, Rick Grimes … you will save Daryl and bring him back to me!"

*.*.*

Carol felt as if she couldn't breathe as she stood outside the clinic, her eyes flickering ever so often to the closed gate leading out of Alexandria. They'd left at dawn, the three communities prepared for battle against a common foe. She'd been back for nearly a fortnight, welcomed with open arms by her family. Maggie had herself returned just that morning. She wouldn't be going to war with her people from The Hilltop, unwilling to risk her unborn child. Instead, she'd gathered volunteers with even the simplest medical knowledge to stock the infirmary and prepare for the injured.

"I'm so glad you're here," the young woman had whispered, holding tightly to Carol. It had been so hard to hold back her tears to be reunited with her, but she'd endured.

Her entire body hummed with anxiety. Every day she had to spend there in the safe zone without Daryl was torture. Was he still alive? It was that thought which plagued her most often. Every day Rick, Ezekiel and Maggie planned and plotted the best way to take out the Sanctuary weighed heavily upon her. They needed to act now! Sleep eluded her thinking of the horrors visited upon her hunter. It brought her demons to the fore, the monster within her wanting to kill them all for what they could be doing to him.

Carl – quiet and sullen of late – had confided in her. He'd told Carol of how he'd sneaked into Negan's base, of how Daryl had been reduced to a mere slave, of Dwight … She didn't care what punishment Rick had in store for Negan, but Dwight was hers. She would deal with him personally. She'd made Rick promise to bring the bastard to her, despite Morgan's rather heated protests.

She hauled in a deep lungful of air, feeling as if she were suffocating as she scanned the streets with her cold stare. The remaining citizens of their small community looked broken, clearly damaged by the trials they'd faced while she'd been in hiding. She didn't regret the time she'd spent in quiet solitude in an attempt to heal, but she wouldn't go back. Her family needed her. They were a part of her. They would kill to protect her just as she would for them. It had taken months of soul-searching, but she realized she couldn't avoid it in this world. She could only pray she'd be able to make peace with herself when all was said and done.

Carol stood still as a statue, her ears pricking as she heard the soft tread behind her on the clinic's porch. She really didn't want to have to deal with him. She shrank away from Tobin's touch as he rested a hand on her shoulder. He had been a failed attempt to feel something … anything to make her feel alive. She'd needed touch and he'd been there. She'd used him as a poor replacement for the man she loved, and in another lifetime, she would have felt guilty. It had only made the hollow pain in her chest grow to a gaping chasm. No man could touch her heart as Daryl could, and she had despaired of ever having him return her love. She'd tried to bury her feelings for him and move on, but Daryl was imbedded to deeply in her heart.

She took a step back, reveling in the distance she created between them. His hand fell slack to his side as he regarded her sadly. "Dr. Carson was asking around to see if any of you would like to join him for dinner while we wait," he said softly, trying to engage her in conversation. She'd barely said two words to him since she'd been back.

Carol shook her head, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as she tried to hold herself together. She couldn't afford for the compressed wall of sorrow and pain in her chest to come spilling forth.

"Carol …"

She moved away, another step towards the clinic. Her eyes lowered, counting the buckles on her boots as she fought harder to rein in her swirling emotions. "Don't. Please … just don't."

"You won't even look at me. Was I really so bad?" he sighed mournfully. "I thought when you came back we could talk … work things out –"

A little tick throbbed in her jaw as her hands clenched into fists. She didn't want to do this, but he was leaving her no choice. His bewilderment, his hope to fix things, they were tangible in his tone, and she couldn't allow him to remain in limbo wondering if she'd ever again give him the time of day. "There is nothing to work out, Tobin." Her eyes lifted to his, cold and icy, devoid of so much as friendship. "I was in a bad place, and you were there."

"When it was really him you wanted. Daryl." He swiped a hand over his face, ridding it of the light sheen of perspiration the late summer sun and the heat of the day had wrought. "I've seen how you look at him."

Her teeth gnashed together as he said her beloved's name. He had no right! "I'm sorry I used you. I never meant to hurt you, but I can't … Goodbye, Tobin." She turned on her heel, adjusting the strap of the rifle on her back, and moved swiftly towards the gate where she would join Eric on watch.

Carol offered him a wan smile as she stood beside him. Eric could understand her anxiety, Aaron having joined the group following Rick to destroy Negan's compound. He shared her fears and offered not a word, but she knew he was there for her should she need him. It was all a waiting game now. Panic clawed at her breastbone and sought to steal her breath, but she pushed it down. Rick would bring Daryl home to her. She just had to believe.

*.*.*

Pain. It was the only thing he knew anymore. Pain and burning. He was going to die there … he knew that for a certainty. In so much as the sun would continue to rise in the east and set in the west, just as much as he knew the position of every creek, river or stream in his beloved Georgia backwoods or how it had been inevitable for him to fall in love with one silver haired teasing minx.

Daryl's swollen cheek pressed into the cold concrete floor of his cell, the fever raging through his body quickly chasing the chill away to deny him relief from the burning. He cracked his eyes, squinting at the only light in the room coming from beneath the door. It flickered as he recognized the sound of gunfire somewhere outside. He hoped they all burned. He prayed they all joined him in hell and he was able to garner Satan's favor to join in on the torture of his enemies for all eternity. A brief smile toyed at the corner of his mouth as he relished the idea. It was fleeting, however; as he sought to lose himself once more in blessed oblivion where she was there to comfort him with her healing touch and soft sweet words.

His Carol. He wasn't worthy to even bring her precious image to his mind. He curled more into himself against the hard cement floor, a shiver wracking his body. He'd been such a fool, so afraid it would be worse to lose her if he lost his heart to her completely. Now, knowing death was creeping ever closer, he was filled with regrets. He was going to die without ever telling her how deeply he loved her, without ever knowing the soft brush of her hands on his bare skin or having never known the heaven of her lips. He flinched at the sound of running footsteps in the corridor outside his prison, praying they would pass him by as his body tensed at the thought of more pain.

Daryl sighed, willing his body to relax, his muscles screaming in agony beneath the raw bleeding flesh of his back. Even by some miracle he survived, he'd never be able to go home to Carol. Because of him, Denise was dead … Glenn. He slammed his teeth together to keep them from chattering against the shivers racing over his fevered flesh. How would he ever face Tara or Maggie, knowing it was his fault … always his fault. How would he face his family, knowing they would blame him? Although, they would never blame him as much as he blamed himself. Whatever tender feelings of friendship Carol harbored for him would be dashed to bits when she learned the truth. The physical torture he silently endured was deserved … it was his penance. And it would never be enough.

He squinched his eyes tightly closed, drawing on his flagging strength to keep his tears at bay. He wanted nothing more than to fall into blessed unconsciousness where there were no regrets, no fears … only his sweet Carol. The darkness where she wouldn't judge him and he could lose himself in dreams of her. He craved the escape from his unbearable reality, an end to his pain.

"Check that one!" Rick growled out in the corridor, and Aaron cringed inwardly. The leader of the Alexandria group looked ready to break apart. He was blood-soaked, a flesh wound to his shoulder the least of his worries as he searched for his lost friend. Negan was down, ready to be transported to the safe zone until they could decide what to do with him. How to kill him was more likely. Rick had taken great pleasure in beating Daryl's whereabouts out of Dwight. Aaron just hoped he was nowhere around when Carol finally got her hands on Negan's henchman.

"Nothing!" Aaron called back. Rick just nodded and moved to the next door. Aaron knew he'd found him when the man covered his mouth with a hand, his features a mask of horror as he fell back into the opposite wall. He rushed to Rick's side, almost afraid to look into the miniscule cell. "Oh, god! Is he –"

Rick moved into the cell, his clear blue eyes pooling with unshed tears as he knelt at Daryl's side and checked for a pulse. "He's alive. Hurry! Look for something to cover him. We can't take him out of here like this. The least we can do is try to preserve his dignity." He didn't notice as Aaron ran from the room to find a blanket, leaning over to brush the hair away from Daryl's face. "Daryl … brother, can you hear me?"

The archer shivered at the touch, expecting pain to follow, too weak to even respond to the familiar voice.

"I'm going to get you out of here."

Daryl groaned, burying his face in the crook of his arm to hide himself away from his friend. "Jus' … Jus' lemme die. C-Can't go back … C-Carol …"

Rick swiped a hand over his face, his throat raw with emotion he couldn't contain. "She's at home, brother, waiting for you," he rasped brokenly. He gasped at the lack of strength in Daryl's hand as he reached out to grasp his wrist.

"Y' cain't let … let her … s-see me l-like this!" he hissed. "P-Promise me!"

Rick was torn between his vow to Carol and his desire to help Daryl. At present, he was more worried about what Carol would do if he attempted to keep Daryl away from her. "I can't do that. She'd burn the world to the ground looking for you." Aaron rushed back into the cell, his face twisted in horror at the sight of the hunter's ravaged back, but laid the blanket over him. "Let's get you home … then you can deal personally with your woman."

A/n: Yeahhhhh ... try not to hate me too much :/ My muse is quite sadistic when she wants to be. Thanks for reading! Reviews are lovely.