She feels a sharp pangs of jealousy in her chest, whenever she sees them so close. She can't help it. Daryl isn't hers and will never be. She sighs and stirrs in the pot with
stew, that simmers on the oven. She can see Daryl and Michonne sitting at a table, covered with maps. They are looking for areas, in which Blake could hide. Still searching
for the man who inflicted so much pain. They try to hunt the governor down. And all, meek little Carol does, is to cook and do the laundry and take care of Judith and do all the
things, meek little housewifes do. So - no wonder, he doesn't see her as a woman. Not when he uses to spend all his time with this beautiful, strong and lean warrior queen.
Carol knows, she should be content that her friend found some happiness this cruel world, some warmth in cold nights out there, when they are on their own.
But still she's jealous. She loves him with all her heart, her soul and he doesn't know. And he will never know, not if she can help it. He's her friend, and that is it. Point.
How could someone like him fell for someone like her, old, plain, used up. Daryl and Michonne are made for this new world. But still, it hurts to see them together.
She sighs again.
" Is there anything I can do for you ? You look like you have a lot on your mind ", Axel says, as he approaches next to her.
" No, I'm fine ", she says, smiling to to convict with the mustache.
Daryl clenched his fists when he sees Axel next to Carol, his Carol. Oh wait, where did that come from ? No matter,where it came from, it is the truth. His Carol.
She is his, she will always be, even if she does not know. And as far as Daryl is concerned, she will never know it. She's too good for him, too classy for his redneck- ass.
She's slender, delicate, with a gentle voice and tender touches. He's unruffled and rough. Her skin is like porcelain, creamy white, dotted with freckles and he wishes, he
would be allowed to map out the constellation of those freckles with his tongue. At nights, when he's out there with Michonne at his side, he dreams of Carol, wondering
whether her skin is as soft as it looks, wondering how she tastes, how her arousal smells, what kind of noise she would make, when he enters her. Wishful thinking. That is
all. More than once he had to take matters in his own hands, feeling bad, dreaming of his friend breathing his name like a lover. Friends. They are friends. Best friends.
He sighs.
" Don't you think, it's time to man up and tell her, how you feel about her? " Michonne whispers to him. He shrugs. " She knows, I care. That's what friends do." he
says. Michonne snickers. "Yeah, friend! Keep tellig that to yorself. I can see, you love her, hell everybody can see it, exept the two of you. It's time for you to make a move,
before anybody else tries to stake a claim on her, someone like our bearded friend over there!" " She's ways to smart for someone like him! And now, stop gossipping,
we have work to do. In ten at the gate." With that, he stands up, nods in Carols direction and goes chasing the man who killed his brother.
A week later a unknown car speeds along the driveway leading to the prison. Everybody is alert, but it is Michonne, climbing out of the car. " I have Daryl in here, he is injured,
Hershel has to take a look over him!"
Carl opens the gates and Michonne rushes in. Tyreese and Rick helps Michonne to get an unconscious Daryl out of the car. " Carl, hurry and get Hershel and Carol! Tell
them, we are on our way to the infirmary! " Rick commands.
"What the hell happened to him?", he asks Michonne.
" We were on our way home through the woods, when suddenly some random walkers approach. They try to grab me, Daryl helped , but in the struggle he lost his balance, tumbled down a ravine and one of his bolts stabbed his side."
" I think, I have a deja-vu or something like that", Rick mutters under his breath.
In the infirmary Carol and Hershel wait impatiently. Hershel trys to calm Carol down, but her hands are shaking and a sob escapes her, when she sees Daryls bloody body. The others lay him on an examination table and Hershel cleans his wound and starts to stich him up. Carol whipes his forehead, while Michonne tells her, what happend.
" At least, he didn't get shot this time" , she says softly and presses a kiss to his brow.
Hershel lays a hand on her shoulder and says: " He's going to be fine. Don't worry. I suppose, you will stay here with him?"
Carol nods and Hershel leaves the room, as well as the others. They all know, that their friend is in very capable hands.
As soon as Carol is alone in the room, she starts to cry, she clutches his hand in between hers and body is shaken by sobs.
Daryl groans when he starts to wake up. He feels, like he fell down a damn ravine and got stabbed by his own bolt. It hurts. It hurts fuckin' much.
A cool hand touches his face, and this time, he does not flinch, he does not hide under a blanket.
"I was so afraid to loose you. I can't loose you.", Carols soft voice whispers.
And just like that, Daryl Dixon knows, that he will never be without this woman. Never again. It's time to confess, for better or for worse. " I can't loose you, too", he rasps. " I love you."
Warm and soft lips presses a tender kiss against his.
" I love you, too. So much!"