A/N: Hi guys!

I'm back with a second Walking Dead story! This story kept haunting my mind and I finally got down to writing it. I hope you'll enjoy!

This one contains warnings for violence, blood, implied sexual situations between two males (both consensual and not), strong language and spoilers from episode 3x09 to the finale of season 3. You've been warned!

As always, I do not own the characters nor the universe of Walking Dead. It is the property of AMC. I'm also not making money from this.

So, enjoy! I'll see you at the end of the chapter!


My Angel, my Savior

Chapter 1 : Feels like home

When I saw Daryl leave with Merle after we freed him from Woodbury, I really didn't expect him to come back to us in the end, when we needed him most. I forced him to make an unfair choice, to choose between his two families. That was selfish of me, but I couldn't help it at the time.

I didn't want to lose Daryl, but I couldn't compromise the whole group either. Because if Daryl came back to us, Merle would follow and I knew trouble would arise. So I forced Daryl's hand, foolishly hoping he would abandon his brother – his own blood – for us.

I was deceiving myself.

When I watched him go away, every muscle in my body was screaming at me to grab his arm and prevent him from leaving. My mind was pleading furiously at me to say anything to keep him with us, but no words came up at the time. I couldn't believe what was happening. I was losing Daryl, the only person aside from Carl and Judith that I couldn't bear to lose, both for the group and for my sake. He was my sanity, my strength, my friend, my confident, and so much more.

I didn't realize exactly how much he meant to me at the time. I didn't know why my heart seemed to be torn apart into pieces when he left.

And when he came back, two days later, saving my life in the process during the governor's attack, I felt complete again. I felt right. I was so glad that he was back that I accepted Merle into the group, despite the others' protests, especially Glenn's.

I knew now that I couldn't kick Merle out, that Daryl would ultimately leave again if I did. I saw it into his eyes; I saw in Daryl's eyes this unspoken plea not to ask him to choose between his brother and us again, because he couldn't choose.

I knew I wouldn't. I needed Daryl to stay.

The day of his return, I wanted so badly to talk to him, but I didn't have a single occasion all day. Everyone was in an uproar about the governor's attack, and it took everything to calm them down and stifle the fire. I finally managed to get everyone to sleep – except for Glenn who volunteered for guard duty – and have them wait until the next day to discuss about the next course of action.

When everyone was finally asleep, and Merle safely locked into the main area to make sure he didn't stir any trouble for at least one night, I went in search of Daryl. He had retreated somewhere earlier in the evening, without as much as a word to me or anyone else about where he was going. I didn't want to admit it, but I was worried sick about him. I noticed earlier that something seemed off about him since he came back.

Determined to see how he was doing, instead of going to sleep like everyone else, I strolled down the hallways of the prison, searching for the hunter. When I didn't find him in the entire Block C, I began to panic. It wasn't in Daryl's habits to wander that far away from the others. A feeling of dread settled in my stomach and it made me uneasy.

I left Block C without delay and wandered down the hallways towards Block D, the one we had cleared for the prisoners. I hoped with all my being that I would find him there, alive and well.

It should have alarmed me how much I worried about Daryl. I didn't care for anyone else that much nowadays apart from my kids.

I finally reached Block D and that's when I heard it; a faint sound that sounded a lot like furious pacing. And I could just picture it; Daryl pacing up and down a random room, restless. That was so like him that it would have made me smile if I wasn't so damn worried. So instead, I hurried in the direction the sounds were coming from. I turned the corner of the hallway and finally, there he was.

I had guessed right; Daryl was furiously pacing in the communal area, his eyes cast down on the ground and his precious crossbow discarded in one corner of the room. His face, usually blank of emotions, was showing his turmoil quite clearly to me. Something happened with Merle; now I was sure of it. Something that was serious enough to put Daryl in that state.

I didn't like it one bit.

I took a step forward and Daryl abruptly stopped and turned around on his heels to face me. As he did so, I saw him wince. It quickly disappeared, but I was sure I didn't imagine it. Then I remembered that fight in the arena and how Merle had beaten his own brother down without any remorse. Daryl had gotten a good beating and there was no way he was not feeling it right now. I would have to check those wounds for myself.

Daryl looked at me with tired eyes. He seemed liked he hadn't slept in two days, and I realized then that it must have been the case. We never used to sleep much when we were out there in the open with the walkers. We never could.

"What ya doin' here, Rick?" He asked me tiredly.

I took a few slow steps forward, stopping when I saw him ready to take one back. I realized a while back that Daryl didn't like for people to approach him too much and I respected that. He often made me think of a wild cat; reluctant to get approached, but when you managed it, managed to get under that tough skin, he was the most loyal person on earth.

"Looking for you, in fact. What are you doing here?" I returned his question while skillfully hiding my worry towards his wellbeing.

Daryl observed me carefully for a few seconds before shrugging lightly, which made him wince once more. I frowned at that.

"I just needed some space, is all," he answered evasively.

I knew pushing him wouldn't help in anything so I didn't ask the reason for it. But he was hurting and if anything, I wanted to take a look at him and see if there was anything broken or anything that needed to be taken care of.

With that in mind, I took another step towards him and threw him a serious gaze.

"I don't mind giving you that, but only after I had a look at your injuries," I replied evenly.

Daryl visibly tensed and I didn't miss the way he huddled on himself, as if wanting to protect himself from my prying eyes. It was nothing obvious, but my trained eyes saw it. I didn't comment on it, though.

"I ain't got any injuries, man," Daryl denied almost brusquely.

I didn't back down, though. I knew how stubborn he was and that I might even have to put up a fight to get my point across. This was too important for me to pass up though, so I would do whatever it took to get the upper-hand.

I folded my arms and didn't budge from my place a few feet away from the hunter. He was shifting restlessly now, and up close, I could hear the way his breathing came out harsher than it normally should. This was enough to prove to me that my hunch was right.

"Come on, Daryl. You can't tell me you're not hurt, not after I saw Merle beat the shit out of you two nights ago," I replied firmly in a tone both angry and worried.

I wanted to punch Merle so damn hard for what he did to Daryl, but I contained this rage because now was not the time. Looking after Daryl was the priority.

Daryl was always the priority.

Daryl observed me then, in that way of his that reminded me of a wild animal. Soon enough, he cast his eyes on the ground, completely evading my searching gaze. By that gesture, I knew even before he opened his mouth, that the next words that would leave his lips would be utter bullshit.

"I'm fine. There's nothin' to worry 'bout," Daryl answered with annoyance.

I sighed impatiently. I knew he would make things difficult, but I was in no state to argue with him any longer. I was worrying too much about him and the sole thought that he could be in pain right now and I did nothing about it yet was eating away at me.

"I don't believe you. Now I'm not leaving here until you let me take a look at you. I can go at this all night. It's your call," I argued firmly, seeking his gaze.

Silence answered me, in which Daryl finally lifted his gaze back to look at me. In those blue orbs, I saw more than I wanted to see; I saw pain, hurt, a turmoil so vivid that it nearly stopped my heart in my chest. It was so raw and haunting that I wished I knew what caused this.

I was so caught up in these haunting eyes that I almost missed Daryl's next words, spoken in annoyance; "Fine, you win. Ya stubborn son of a bitch."

I took no offense in Daryl's insult, because I knew he wasn't really thinking it. Spending almost a year in Daryl's company, I dared to think I began to know him well. It was his way of giving up while keeping a semblance of control.

I nodded and gestured to the nearest cell. "Let's get in there and have you sit on the bunk," I said, waiting for Daryl to go first.

He obeyed, but not without a sour look on his face that made me think of a sulking child. I had to hide a smile at the thought. For all his toughness, Daryl was so much like a child sometimes it amazed me.

Daryl briskly walked to the open cell, leaving his crossbow behind. For other people, I wouldn't have thought anything of it, but this was Daryl. The fact that he left it there, therefore leaving himself vulnerable spoke much of his trust in me. It made me feel strangely warm inside. I didn't know what I did to earn the trust of this man, but I was grateful to have it. It meant more to me than any words could describe.

I followed Daryl in the cell and found him already sitting on the edge of the couch. I sat next to him and motioned to his vest and sleeveless shirt.

"Let's get these off first," I asked in a much more gentle tone.

Daryl hesitated then. He threw me a furtive look and tensed once more. I wondered briefly on his reaction, but then I suddenly recalled that time Daryl had come back to the group after his search for Sophia and was shot by Andrea. When Hershel had been treating his wounds, I had seen it.

The scars.

They had been nasty scars, the type of scars that were no accident. Someone had done that to him, and seeing Daryl's reaction now, I had no doubt that he was ashamed of it. He must be, because I didn't remember another time I had seen him bare-chested. Daryl was always careful to never expose himself in front of anyone else, and God knows we didn't have the luxury to have privacy anymore. But Daryl always managed it somehow.

I felt suddenly bad about asking Daryl to reveal himself, because there was no doubt in my mind that it was a big deal for him and probably also too intimate, but before I could say anything, Daryl silently shrug off his vest and began to unbutton his shirt.

I stayed still, fearing that if I moved, he would stop and shy away from what needed to be done. He was nervous, I could see it in the way his hands shook subtly. After a while, he was done and he shrugged his shirt off, letting it slide from his broad shoulders and exposing his bare skin.

Despite having seen it once – the scars on his chest, at least – I still cringed at the sight of them. Daryl stayed still, his whole body tense as a board, and it gave me the time to really see the extent of the damage.

There were long ragged scars that seemed to have been done by a pointed knife, along with round cigarette scars. Countless small scars were also littering his otherwise smooth skin. But the biggest ones - the ones littering his back - were made by what seemed to be a belt, or something of the sort. I was no stranger to abuse, having worked dozens of these cases, and knew by now the signs of it.

Someone had abused Daryl, marred him, scarred him, defiled him.

Anger pooled in my gut, a deep and primal rage that threatened to burst out, along with a frightening protectiveness towards Daryl. How could someone do that to him? Daryl was the most selfless, kind-hearted man I knew! He hadn't deserved this! Nobody deserved this, and especially not him.

My rage was so strong that if I had the one that did this to Daryl right here in front of me, I'd make him wish he was never born.

And then a thought occurred to me; what if it was Merle? Those scars were most likely done to Daryl during his childhood, because no one could lay a hand on him now and live to tell. What if his brother had done this to him? It was possible. The mere thought was enough to make my blood boil in my veins and I clenched my jaw shut tightly.

I didn't realize I was staring intently at Daryl's scars until he shifted uncomfortably and avoided my gaze, steeling his awkwardly on the ground. I opened my mouth to ask him who had done that, but Daryl was quicker and he spoke in a quick and snapping tone; "Don't."

He didn't need to say anything more for me to understand he didn't want to talk about it. Still, I needed to know if it was Merle, because if it was, if he was the cause of those scars and that pain, there was no way I would let Merle anywhere near Daryl again. It would be over my dead body.

So I paid no heed to his warning and asked in a shaky breath; "I understand you don't want to talk about it, but I need to know one thing; was it Merle?"

Daryl's gaze snapped back on me in an instant and for a second, it was burning with a deep anger. But he must have seen in my eyes the deep concern and worry I was feeling since he was quick to soften and back to avoiding my gaze again.

"No. Merle'd never do that to me," he answered quietly and begrudgingly.

His expression closed off and I knew that I wouldn't get anything more out of him. I was a little relieved to know Merle wasn't responsible for those scars, but it didn't make my anger any less strong.

Still, those scars shouldn't be my concern right now so I pushed that anger down the best I could and took a look at his injuries instead. I winced when I really took in the amount of the damage. Daryl's sides were a mess of colors, as was his lower back. Black and blues were littering his skin and I feared the worst seeing this.

I didn't waste any time and reached for the damaged skin. When my fingers brushed Daryl's right side, he jumped slightly and pushed away from me for a brief moment before settling down again, tension obvious in his entire body.

I paid it no mind and let my fingers feel his bruised skin. It must hurt like a bitch because Daryl's breath hitched in his throat and he clenched his fists tightly on his knees. But Daryl never complained, and I really didn't expect him too. He was the kind to always hide his pain and I admired that strength, though I wished he showed it more sometimes.

I kept on feeling around his sides, hoping I wouldn't find any broken ribs. At some point, I must have hit a tender spot since Daryl hissed loudly and jerked away from my hands.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" I asked worriedly.

Daryl shook his head slowly and slowly settled back down again.

"Nah, it's just really sore," he answered quietly while stifling another hiss.

I nodded and went back to work silently. While I did so, it occurred to me that it was the first time I could really take a look at Daryl and it hit me how much weight he had lost. Of course I had seen how lean he got with time, how hollow his cheekbones became, but to see his ribs and how there was not even an ounce of body fat on him alarmed me.

Daryl was always the first to go hungry if it meant someone else could have another helping of food, I knew that and I hated it. But that was just how Daryl was. He was the most selfless out of all of us and it seemed like no one apart from me was seeing it. It made me feel even guiltier about forcing Daryl to choose between Merle and us after our escape from Woodbury.

He hadn't deserved that. It had been so unfair.

That guilt kept growing and growing in me, making it harder to suppress with each passing second. I still managed to finish checking Daryl's injuries and was relieved to note no injuries worse than bruises that would fade with time.

When I finished checking over Daryl, I bent down, picked up his discarded shirt and handed it to him.

"There you go. As far as I can see, you're good. Sore for a couple of days, but nothing that won't heal," I managed to say past the growing lump in my throat.

Daryl quickly took his shirt and threw me another furtive look, though he let that one linger longer on me.

"Thanks," he muttered and hastily began to button his shirt back. I watched him in silence for a short moment, but soon I couldn't contain the guilt anymore and I broke the silence.

"Daryl, I… I'm sorry," I uttered in a tone full of guilt.

Daryl's fingers stopped in mid-work and he turned his gaze on me. He frowned and a look of confusion washed over his tired face.

"'Bout what?" he asked me, genuinely confused about my apology.

I held his stare as I answered what had been weighting on my mind for two days.

"I never should have asked you to choose between us and your brother. It was selfish of me. I just… I knew that the idea of Merle living with us was not welcomed by many of us and I have to admit I felt the same way. But you… we need you. I need you. I couldn't lose you, so I tried to keep you only and it was wrong. I don't think an apology's gonna cut it, but it's all I have," I said shamefully, pouring out everything I felt, knowing Daryl deserved it.

Once I finished, I saw a mix of emotions appear in Daryl's blue eyes. I couldn't discern them, though. They were quickly gone and the hunter was avoiding my gaze again, lowering his eyes to concentrate them on his fingers that had resumed buttoning up his shirt.

"Don't fret it. I can see why ya all didn't want Merle 'round. He's a jerk most of the time," Daryl answered so quietly that I almost didn't hear him.

That answer surprised me. Daryl loved his brother and would do anything for him, and I had foolishly thought he would always turn a blind eye on his actions and deny his bad nature. He wouldn't have said that a year ago. Daryl had grown so much from the first time I saw him, it was incredible. He went from throwing squirrels at my face to full on trusting me and ready to lay down his life for us.

And he was so much more open about his feelings and his thoughts. It made me want to know more and more about him and I jumped on the opportunity. My eyes stayed glued on Daryl's face, taking in the way the few rays of moonlight danced on his features.

"If you know that, then why are you putting up with him?" I asked without really thinking and immediately wanted to slap myself, fearing that such a personal question would make Daryl close himself to me right now.

He surprised me when he merely shrugged dismissively and bent down to pick up his vest.

"He's blood. The only family I got left," he replied to my question with a brief hint of uneasiness.

Daryl didn't like to talk about himself. I knew next to nothing about him, and yet, I felt closer to him than to anyone else in the group. Because I knew this, I should have known that the next words that left my lips were the worst I could have said.

"What happened to your mother? Your father?"

As soon as the word "father" left my throat, Daryl reacted in a way I never saw before. His eyes widened in a mix of fear and hatred and his entire body tensed so much that I feared he would snap. It was such a violent reaction that I was paralyzed for a short moment and my brain took that time to process what I was seeing and why.

And when I finally realized why Daryl reacted like that about his father – or at least I thought I did – Daryl had stood up, his vest held tightly in his shaking fist, and was making for the exit of the cell in a fast movement.

I acted on instinct.

I had the gut feeling that if I let Daryl go right now, something would break between us. I had crossed a line I didn't realize I had and it could destroy the trust he had put in me. I couldn't let that happen.

"Daryl, wait! I'm sorry!" I exclaimed right as I latched out and grabbed his wrist, yanking on it to prevent the hunter from fleeing.

I yanked too hard though, or maybe Daryl was just too tired and too weak right now to put up much of a fight.

Daryl was turned around by the strength I used and he stumbled back towards me. He didn't have time to try to catch himself and he fell straight on me, his chin bumping on my shoulder while my jaw painfully hit the side of his head.

Hisses of pain were heard, but I was too knocked out to register if it was me or Daryl who'd uttered them – maybe both of us. It took a few seconds for the pain to recede enough to let me regain my senses, and when I did, I froze in shock and bewilderment at the position we found ourselves in.

Daryl had landed half on top of the bunk and half in my lap. I could feel one of his strong thighs between mine, dangerously close to a very sensitive area. One of his hands had found solace on the edge of the bed while the other was gripping my shoulder tightly for balance.

He was breathing heavily against my neck, making shivers rise up on my skin. His strong, lean body was pressed against me, leaving nothing to the imagination. Daryl was incredibly warm, like a burning furnace, and I felt my body react positively to it.

It hit me like a ton of bricks. I never thought I would feel this again after Lori's death, even less towards someone of the same gender.

Lust. Desire.

That realization shocked me so much that I couldn't react or say anything when Daryl finally came to his senses and pushed away enough to meet my eyes. But even though I returned his gaze, I wasn't really seeing him; I was too lost in my own thoughts that were coming and going furiously in my head like a hurricane. Where did this feeling of lust come from? I never once before felt a thing towards another male before, never even thought about experiencing it.

But then I understood. Gender didn't have anything to do with it. I desired Daryl for who he was. This lust was coming from somewhere much, much deeper that I finally grasped. My fast beating heart and the strange sensation in my stomach was proof enough of that.

I cared for Daryl. I cared for him much more than I should. This need to protect him, to have him with me at all time, to be in his presence, to know he was safe, this tendency of relying on him that I never had towards anyone else…

Daryl had wormed his way into my life, my heart, without me noticing it. Until now. Feeling him that close to me for the first time finally made me open my eyes and see what I had stubbornly refused to see before.

I wanted and needed Daryl in every sense of the word.

I don't know if it was because there were no rules anymore, no sense of right or wrong anymore, or because of this apocalyptic and chaotic world we found ourselves in, but instead of frightening me and disturbing me, this realization made a strange sense of peace settle into my chest. A feeling of home.

Daryl felt like home.

But then, I realized something else. While I was lost in thoughts for who knows how much time, Daryl hadn't moved either. I finally focused my gaze on his face and steeled myself for what I would read there. I prepared myself for rejection, anger, disgust, any reaction of the sort. Because even if I was strangely at ease with the prospect of me and Daryl being together, I was sure he wouldn't, if he even felt remotely the same towards me as I did towards him.

I was certain he would not stand for that. He might not be a racist, homophobic bastard like his brother, but he grew up in such an environment, probably having those ideas beaten repeatedly inside his head.

My eyes hesitantly met his and I was shocked by what I saw in those blue orbs. There was hesitancy, fear, uncertainty, confusion, but no disgust, or anger, or anything of the sort. Daryl seemed to be waiting anxiously, eyes frantic and fidgeting, unsure if he should bolt through the door or stay. Waiting for what, my mind could only guess. And what I had in mind, I was sure he was not ready for.

But then again, Daryl constantly surprised me, day after day. It was one of the aspects I appreciated and admired the most in him.

I stared back at him, my eyes searching for anything that would help me guess what was going on in his head. We were both unmoving, still in that awkward position. That Daryl hadn't tried to climb down from my lap yet was a mystery to me. Maybe... maybe it meant I had a chance after all? That maybe he felt like I did?

While my mind was furiously debating on what I should do, my body found a mind on its own. My hand shakily rose from its place on the bed and came to cup Daryl's cheek tenderly. Daryl jumped nervously, but he didn't flee from my touch. He merely shifted restlessly, his eyes frantically shying away from my burning gaze. I didn't know what to think of it, so I kept my hand still, leaving Daryl the time to pull away if he wanted to.

My heart was beating so fast that it resounded loudly in my ears. I was surprised Daryl didn't hear it. Time stretched on, and when Daryl still didn't pull away, I found the courage to go along with what my heart desired. My hand still on his cheek slowly slid around his neck to settle on the back of his head, leaving shivers in its wake. Daryl was so close to me that I felt it all and it only made my desire and anticipation deepen.

My fingers curled in his hair and I gently brought the hunter closer until our lips were merely an inch apart. Daryl went pliantly with the movement, and I felt his fingers still gripping my shoulder begin to shake. Our breaths mingled for a moment and I stared at those chapped-looking lips that were there for the taking. I saw them quiver slightly and the tip of a rosy tongue slid out to nervously moisten them.

That was the final straw that finally pushed me over the point of no return, where there would be no turning back.

I pulled Daryl the rest of the way in and finally, I could taste those lips. And from that moment, I was lost.

The touch of those lips sent a fire down to pool in my stomach. It was foreign, the scrape of stubble against my chin, and the feel of a hard body against mine, but not unwelcomed. There was something about Daryl that made me crave and need more. I gently moved my lips against Daryl's, and it took me a good moment to realize he wasn't responding to the kiss, and that his body was incredibly tense. His fingers were clutching my shoulder so hard it hurt.

Fear boiled into my veins then. I feared I read him wrong and that Daryl didn't want this in the end. I was about to pull away, an apology ready on my tongue, when Daryl finally relaxed and hesitantly returned the kiss, moving his lips against mine a little awkwardly. It felt like he didn't know what to do and it occurred to me that maybe – if what I guessed about Daryl's life was true and how he was acting day to day – it was his first kiss.

That maybe he never did anything remotely close to this. That thought thrilled me more than I wanted to admit.

My hand soothingly caressed the back of his neck while I gently guided Daryl into the kiss. He was a fast learner, much to my delight. His lips, slotted against mine and moving languidly, tasted like heaven to my now intoxicated mind. That touch fed the burning fire inside of me that threatened to engulf me whole. I was on a quickly derailing train and there was no jumping down from it.

Our lips parted for us to breathe, only to meet again a few seconds later. I felt that if I didn't taste those lips again, I would die. I suspected Daryl felt the same if the way his lips grew more eager and insistent with each passing second was any indication.

My free arm slipped around Daryl's narrow waist and I brought him as close to me as I possibly could. Daryl hesitantly obliged and slipped fully into my lap, his strong thighs straddling mine and slotting his hips against mine. The friction it caused made us both gasp in the other's mouth and I drank the sound like it was the sweetest wine there was.

I never expected Daryl could be that passionate, that wanton, nor did I expect this to happen at all. But now that I had Daryl in my arms, willing and so unbelievably warm, I couldn't remember not wanting this, not craving it. The world outside ceased to exist; everything faded away and nothing mattered anymore other than Daryl.

I thought I would go crazy when Daryl pressed even closer to me, as if wanting to melt into me, and slowly circled my neck with his arms. I replied by kissing him more demandingly and let my hand still behind his neck slowly caress down his protruding spine – God he was so skinny – to the small of his back, earning shivers in return and a quiet moan that got lost between our lips.

Daryl abruptly broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine, breathing heavily in the silence of the cell. I questioningly searched for his gaze, feeling panic and fear rise in me. I feared that Daryl had changed his mind, that it had been nothing more but a moment of madness that had made him act that way. I was terrified of the idea, to tell the truth.

Daryl had closed his eyes, preventing me from reading in them what he might be thinking. My fear soon grew so powerful that I couldn't contain it anymore.

"Daryl… What – " I never could finish my sentence because a pair of lips were on mine again, silencing me and reducing my brain into mush.

The kiss was quick, but hot. When he broke the kiss, Daryl looked right into my eyes, with such intensity that I believed he could see into my very soul.

"Don't talk. Not now," he spoke with a wrecked voice.

Knowing I was the one who caused him to lose his composure was exhilarating. I had so many questions about what was happening between us right now, but I was quick to grant Daryl his wish. I didn't want nor could break this spell, this moment of madness that overtook us.

Daryl was right. We would have time to talk about it later.

I firmly grabbed Daryl's hips and knocked him over on the mattress. The air was knocked out of his lungs and Daryl looked up at me from underneath me. His icy blue eyes bore into my soul with an intensity that shook me to my core. Every last slim thought of stopping this was gone out the window then.

There was no turning back anymore.

I gently pressed my hunter against the mattress. I buried my fingers in his hair and saw his eyes flutter shut and his body relax under me. My heart jumped in my chest at the sight. Daryl was offering himself to me, without a second thought. He trusted me enough to let his defenses down, to let me in, to let me take whatever I wished to take from him.

That was the most beautiful and meaningful thing I ever witnessed.

My hands curved around his narrow waist and I pressed my lips against his jaw, leaving a trail of delicate kisses along it. Daryl reacted by slipping his arms around my back and he sighed softly, shakily. Giving me his consent.

And I took it.

Our hands nervously fumbled with buckles and buttons in the moonlight lit room, slowly tugging them free gradually. All the while, I continued to reverently trail tender kisses across Daryl's temple to his neck, and my hunter shivered, leaning into the touch in an almost imperceptible movement.

Hands searching, eyes closed, we moved slowly, working through layers of clothes and emotions. Our fingers traced the curves and dips of bodies, both of us seeking some kind of secret that would lead the other to come undone. And with every layer of clothing slipping away, so did my self-control.

How could it be any different, when Daryl was right there with me, looking at me with those eyes that were so trusting and almost loving?

We're both searching for something

we've been afraid to find

It was my first time making love to a man, and I suspected it was Daryl's first time ever. It was frightening, overwhelming, awkward, passionate, and exciting all at the same time. There was no doubt in my mind that I would have drowned in this ocean of emotions if Daryl wasn't right there with me experiencing those same emotions. It was bleeding from us both, and we reveled in it.

It's easier to be broken

It's easier to hide

The small slivers of moonlight draped themselves heavily across the floor and the bunk, illuminating Daryl in a haunting light. By now, we were both a little breathless, both all over one another, both in a little too deep in each other.

Both wanting to see how deep it could get.

I ran my hands through that mess of brown hair - it had grown so much since I first saw Daryl - splayed out against the dirty sheets, and I admired my hunter almost reverently. I couldn't help but want to feel Daryl with my hands, to run them over the rough skin of his cheeks, to trace the curve of his slightly opened lips. And all the while the hunter had hazy blue eyes locked on me, almost glinting in the darkness, sucking me in.

Looking at you

Holding my breath

All the emotions that we ever felt, it was right there, spread out on our faces to see. All exchanged, all spelt out in delicious sensations. In burning touches, kisses, and caresses. And I had no choice but to finally admit what I was: addicted. Daryl was my obsession; a tempting, dangerous obsession, and I couldn't stop. Not anymore.

I needed more of him, just like I needed air to breathe.

For once in my life

I'm scared to death

I remembered it all now, all the signs that led to this moment that I blinded myself to before. The long glances that we exchanged and that were always enough to understand each other without words, the brush of shoulders whenever we walked side by side, the fierce glances in battle, as much a plea as it was a warning not to lose, not to die, the moments we spent together hunting, taking guard, understanding and completing each other in a way I never thought possible with anyone before then.

I could never get enough of Daryl, I realized that now. This attraction ran a lot deeper than I first realized. It had always been there, brewing under the surface from the very beginning, from the moment I first laid eyes on Daryl in that camp in Atlanta.

I just blinded myself to it.

I'm taking a chance

Letting you inside

But now, I saw it as clear as day. But I couldn't say it to Daryl, because I didn't know how. It was need, want, hope, desire. Daryl was my drug. He made me feel real, feel true, feel sane, for the first time since I woke up in this new world. Daryl was the only one who ever knew who I truly was, who I wasn't and who I wanted to be. Even Lori didn't see as much. Daryl saw me for who I was. And he accepted all of me.

No, I couldn't tell Daryl how hard I'd fallen for him, with no hopes of climbing up the steep. How I was lost in those blue eyes, with no hopes of ever being found.

The world that I see inside you

Waiting to come to life

Daryl's eyes were glazed over, his reddened lips parted slightly. With heavy-lidded eyes, I took in the way his cheeks were tinted a slight red, and blues darkened with desire met my steady gaze. In the darkness it was all I really needed to see, because I saw everything in those bewitching eyes that said nothing but meant everything all at once. We had never needed words from the very beginning.

Words could never be strong enough to describe what we felt, what was taking place right now.

Waking me up to dreaming

reality in your eyes

I was suddenly tugged downwards for a scorching kiss. Our tongues met for the first time, and followed some kind of knowing dance, hot and slick. Yet innocently, clumsily all at once, discovering each other for the first time, as did our bodies.

Soft touches, skin against skin, lips pressed against flesh. New smells, new tastes, new sensations, new feelings. We drank in every second, dragging it out for as long as we wanted. Because we wanted to take our time, to be slow, to do it good, to give it meaning.

No matter how fast the world was turning, how little time we may have left, nothing would ever make me rush this. Daryl deserved nothing less than that.

Looking at you

Holding my breath

Daryl accepted me in the most intimate way possible, and my heart squeezed painfully in my chest when I saw his lovely features becoming drawn with pain at the initial burn. I held him close and kissed his tightly-closed eyes in a heartfelt apology.

Daryl returned my embrace tightly, clinging to me like a lifeline. My voice whispered sweet nothings and apologies in the silence of the room, even if I knew nothing I'd say would be enough to make up for what Daryl gave to me, what he kept giving to me.

There wasn't anything he wasn't ready to let me claim and there was nothing I wasn't ready to give in return.

I'm taking a chance

Letting you inside

We went slow, and it felt better than if we had rushed it. I committed it to memory, the way Daryl kissed me almost shyly when I let sweet nothings and little confessions slip past my lips. I wanted to remember in every detail the tender touches and the burning caresses that made me lose just a little more of my control and sanity with every passing second.

I wanted to remember how it felt like for both of us to come undone; how it felt to see Daryl lay all his secrets bare for me to see, all his scars and wounds of the past; how it felt like to have him give himself over completely to me.

This meant so much more than anything else ever did.

I'm feeling alive all over again

As deep as the sky, under my skin

And I made him know how much it mattered to me, how touched I was of the gesture and that I wasn't going anywhere. That I would always be there to hold him through the nights if he desired so.

It was more than sleeping together, more than mere lust and crude sexual desire, more than just satisfying our frustrations. It had always been the both of us, too caught up in one another without knowing it. And now that we finally crossed that line, we could never have enough and would always want more.

Like being in love for the first time

This moment was about making love, about reading into what it meant to have a body offered willingly to you, for you to take anything and everything you wanted. For you want, really want, to give and give and give until it felt like you were taking. It wasn't about words. Words would never be strong enough to describe what we both felt towards each other.

Maybe I'm wrong but I'm feeling right

Where I belong with you tonight

And I loved so much that it almost hurt. I wanted more of that burn, that bittersweet pleasure only Daryl could make me feel. And I wanted to make my hunter feel safe, complete. I wanted to make him forget whatever left him just a little bit more broken than before, what had wounded his soul so deeply.

I wanted to make him whole again. Loved, desired, sacred. Just like he deserved to feel.

Like being in love to feel for the first time

In the darkness of the cell, there was no talking, just soft contact and caresses that burned. Just small little sounds that escaped our throats, every breath, every moan, and every soft sigh we took while we were tangled up on top of the sheets.

The sliver of moonlight was all that guided us and the stars watched on, the same unfeeling witnesses they always were, watching in the moment we created a world just for ourselves.

And I watched that lovely face beneath me, face flushed and eyes slid shut in pleasure, a soft cry escaping Daryl's reddened lips; lean body arching up in bliss against mine, brown locks thrown back carelessly against the ruffled sheets.

And god forbid, it felt so right.

We're crashing into the unknown

And when it was over, I didn't know how long it was afterwards that I spent watching Daryl, allowing myself a small tired smile, but perfectly content and sated. And I waited for Daryl to have recovered before sliding my arm around his narrow waist and bringing his back against my chest, pressing kisses against the scarred skin of a bare shoulder that seemed to glow under the light of the moon.

I almost expected him to push me away, not taking Daryl for the cuddly type. He surprised me when he simply laid there, pushing a little closer into my embrace, and watched the shapes that the light was casting across the floor, two bodies melting together to form one dark shadow.

I simply breathed in Daryl's scent, heavy and smelling like some kind of home I had lost a long time ago.

We're lost in this

But it feels like home

Blue eyes finally turned to me. Still bare, still raw from our lovemaking. And I wondered if Daryl ever noticed just how handsome he was, how desirable, and I decided that he probably didn't. But it was fine, because hopefully I would be here to tell him that from now on, and to enjoy the clumsy embarrassment that was sure to follow.

My voice was soft and honest as I kissed his ear, gently, lovingly. The words I uttered were barely more than a whisper, but Daryl heard them clearly.

"I can't get enough of you."

Daryl didn't speak back. He accepted the brush of my lips against his own, eyes falling shut as he kissed me back, languidly. His answer was simple and told me clearly that he didn't mind it.

And knowing that made it one of the happiest moments in my life.

I smiled sleepily in return. Daryl was warm against me. The cell smelled like us now, a simple mix of our scents, and it was enough for us both to be lulled into sleep; tangled up together on the sheets, silent comforts and unspoken confessions splayed out in our flesh.

And I remembered wishing, just before falling asleep, that this night would be the first in a long series of nights where we would be just a little too caught up in each other.


A/N: End of chapter 1!

Wow, I'm rather proud of myself for finally being able to write a non-explicit sex scene. Sorry for those of you who wanted it to be explicit. I just thought it fitted the mood I wanted for this fic better that way.

I tried my best to keep both Daryl and Rick in character, while showing how their relationship can go from friendship to lovers - which I personally totally can see happening in the TV show - but it is quite a challenge O_O They're so complicated... So sorry if you think they're too OOC!

So, what did you guys think? I'm really liking writing it so far, so I'd really appreciate your feedback to know if some of you want me to continue!

By the way, the lyrics written in italic in the last part are from the song "First Time" by Lifehouse.

Thanks a lot for reading me!

See you next time!

Rose