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.

Tags: *Carol Peletier, *Daryl Dixon, *Carol Peletier/Daryl Dixon, *Angst, *03x06 'Hounded', *Caryl is Hope

Rating: T

Summary: Daryl's inner musings as he sits in the corridor grief stricken as he gathers his strength to face what he thinks is Carol's walker behind the door in 03x06 Hounded.

A/n: Yeah … because my muse is an evil, trifling harpy! Hope you enjoy.

A Glimmer of Hope

By:

CharlotteAshmore

Teeth gnashed to ward off the stringent tears threatening to form behind his eyes. The walls of the tombs – aptly named – seemed to want to close in on him as he sat on the floor of the dank corridor; the gloom, the sound of a leaky pipe somewhere hidden behind the stone and mortar fitting his desolate mood. He sneered at the knife in his hand, encased in his white knuckled grip. Fat lot of good it had done its owner.

Three days … For three days Daryl had tried to push past the grief burning away at the ragged remnants of his soul, ignore the overwhelming emptiness of his heart and move on. How could he go on without … her? Her grave – Carol's – had been the last he'd dug. His eyes slammed closed against the building ache in his chest, fighting against the acrid twang of tears scorching his throat at the mere thought of her name, but he would not allow the tears to fall. Not yet. He'd dug her grave, needing the ache in his muscles, the blisters which rose on his palms to push forward and do what had to be done. He'd needed to carve a mark upon the earth and soil to pay tribute to his friend, fruitless in his endeavor, for her body would never rest there. Someone, some time, needed to know she had lived, she had survived far longer than others, to know she'd found a home amongst the ruins, that her sweet smile and determined spirit had not been beaten down by the end of the world.

Again, Daryl thrust the knife into the blood-stained, cement floor as another wave of anguish rippled through his body.

How could y' leave me, woman? his mind screamed. He couldn't shout his pain from the rooftop, couldn't show those who relied on him this moment of weakness. The group needed someone they could depend on now that Rick had taken the train to crazy town due to his own loss. But Daryl was alone now, and he could rage against her … even if it was within his own mind. Unadulterated anger – rage against the fates – coursed through him like molten fire, and he slammed the tip of the knife down again, muscles bunching in his arm as he tried to dig a hole through the concrete.

Y' made me feel! Y' wouldn't let me go, pushin' an' pullin' until y' made me a part of this rag-tag group. Why would y' do this t' me, Carol? I knew this was gonna happen, an' fool that I am, I let y' in anyway. I didn't wanna get close … knew how much it was gonna hurt if ... He ducked his head, his chin resting on his chest as he took a labored breath. I ain't nothin' but a fuck up, but y' wanted me anyway. Why?! Couldn't find y' little girl … took out all my anger on y' … pushed y' away, and still y' wouldn't give up.

I cain't even blame y' for leavin' me. He sniffed loudly, the sound loud as a gunshot in the eerie stillness. My fault … shoulda taken that little bastard out before he could come back and tear my whole world down. I shoulda been closer t' y' instead of halfway across the damn prison yard. Shoulda been there t' protect y' like I promised. His head rose, his smoky blue gaze glittering with unshed tears fixing upon the steel door as it bumped against the body of the walker lying on the floor before it. I don't know if I can do this, Carol.

How am I s'posed t' open that door an' watch y' stumble out wantin' t' take a bite outta me? Hell, I should let y' for … I deserve it for failin' y'. How can I look into your eyes an' see th' life gone from them? I used t' get lost in those eyes of yours, woman. There ain't a person alive or dead ever looked at me th' way y' did. Like I was good … like I mattered. I ain't never needed nobody before … not 'til you."

Daryl's head fell back onto his shoulders, his arm rearing back and driving the blade of her knife into the wall, mustering the courage to face her reanimated corpse. His girl was gone. He couldn't fail her yet again by letting her remain a monster. "What am I gonna do now, Carol? Y' made me feel, y' gave me friendship … y' made me love you! Funny how I can say it now you're gone, huh? When I was too much of a pussy t' tell y' when it would've mattered. Gawd, I wish I could do it over again … have y' here in front of me so I could look into your eyes an' tell y' what's in my heart. Again, the thrust of the blade into the wall as his anger and determination grew. What I wouldn't give t' be able t' hold y' just once.

The hunter shoved himself to his feet, and paced the length of the corridor … once, twice. He gave the door a swift, hard kick, the jolt of pain grounding him. Holding the knife between his teeth, he fisted his hands in the walker's prison jumpsuit, pulling him away from the door. He could waste no more time. He couldn't fail her again in death as he had in life. Daryl felt the tears welling in his eyes threaten to spill as he hauled the door open and poised to strike.

The air froze in his lungs as he stared into the empty space, his gaze shifting downward, his body abruptly halting before he could lunge. There he met those azure eyes he adored above all else, saw the smallest of smiles on her perfect lips and felt the world right itself once more. She was alive! Daryl knelt at his side, his hand moving to cup her chin in a gentle grasp, blood thundering in his ears from the rapid tempo of his heart.

Carol's weak grip curled around his fingers, squeezing gently to assure him he wasn't imagining things. "Daryl …"

The whispered sweetness and longing in her voice broke him. The tears spilled over his lashes as he gathered her to him and buried his face against the ivory column of her throat. She whimpered as his arms banded around her, his grip a bit too tight for comfort, but he couldn't seem to let her go. "I thought I'd lost y'," he whispered, breathing her in, reveling in her unique scent mingled amidst the blood, sweat and grime caking her clothes.

Carol chuckled and wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tickling through the hair along his nape. "No … you simply misplaced me. I would never willingly leave you … don't you know that by now?"

Daryl held still, holding her gaze as she brushed away the tears from his wet cheeks. Her touch was gentle, trembling, but it was her voice which worried him. He needed to bring her to Hershel, so he could care for her. She needed food and water to regain her strength. Carefully, he lifted her into his arms and carried her out of that dank cell, moving through the corridors until he found the correct path to lead them to C block.

He pressed a feather-light kiss to her brow. "Ain't doin' this shit again, woman. From now on, you're sticking close t' me."

Carol sighed and rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes as fatigue and the assurance of his warm embrace washed over her. "Promise …"

A spark lit his eyes, something rare to find in a Dixon … a glimmer of hope.

A/n: Just something I couldn't get out of my head and thought I would share it with you. I hope y'all enjoyed it. Reviews are love!

I hope my betas will forgive me for not letting them read this before posting :D