AN So this is my very first Caryl fic. Scary stuff.

Funny story really, I originally wrote 1000 words of smut which had no actual plot so I created this fic to try to weave some actual story into the existing smuttyness. Coincidently the original smut now doesn't fit this fic at all. Fml. However I have decided to share my little fic with you all, hopefully you will like it. I would love to know your thoughts, good or bad.

This fic is set mid season 6 but before Not Tomorrow Yet, cuz you know, Tobin. So fair warning if you aren't all caught up yet.

This has not been betaed so all mistakes are my very own. I have tried hard to minimise them but do feel free to point any out to me you find. Also I am English and therefore may spell things a little different, again sorry, I have tried.

Disclaimer: I do not, of course, own these characters or anything at all from TWD and therefore I am making no money from this. I wish I did tho, I would treat them so good.

Chapter one

Carol would like to say that she understands how they got into this position, but for the life of her she has no idea. If she thinks back she can imagine a time, some moments perhaps, where this may not have come as such a surprise. She thinks she might have been shocked but it wouldn't have been completely out of the blue. There was a time when flirting and shoulder bumps and secret smiles were their thing, but not now. Now they are distant and guarded with each other. She's not sure whose fault it is, his or hers. Probably both. But the fact remains that right now they aren't as close as they used to be, which is why she is perplexed to find herself pressed against the wall of the house with Daryl pressing hot kisses on her neck.

Through the haze of lust she remembers sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette. He had sat down beside her, not talking, just sitting. She remembers feeling the silence as a stifling force threatening to choke her with the need to fill it. It had never been that way with them before, but now, now his very presence makes everything harder. It's easier to pretend without having to look into his perceptive eyes. She remembers stubbing her cigarette out and disguarding it. She stands and they haven't spoken a word. She expected him to just let her leave, that was their way, they didn't push and that hadn't changed. Instead she heard him speak "how long this gonna go on for?"

She is a little startled and pauses before pretending she doesn't know what he's on about "how long is what going to go on for Daryl?"

He stands abruptly and moves towards her. He is agitated and gesturing with his hands and she realises that he is serious about talking this out right now and she just can't do that. She mentally does not have the strength to deal with it. She continues walking towards the door and hears his voice growl out "don't play stupid, we both know you ain't."

She's at the door when she feels his hand on her arm, soft, no force behind it, but very definitely encouraging her to turn and look at him. Once she is facing him he tilts her chin so shes looking at him "you don't gotta pretend with me, I don't wanna push but I don't know what the fuck is goin' on. I don't know why you still playing this fuckin' housewife shit, we all know that ain't you no more, that ain't a bad thing. Don't what the fuck I did to pissed you off, don't know what the fuck is going on with you, don't know what the fuck you need."

It all comes out in a desperate rush, there is no denying it's the most he's said in a long time. He's not done though as he continues on, "you don't talk no more, don't smile no more, not real fuckin' smiles anyway, just that pretend shit all the time. I know shit happened just..." he is fumbling for words, seemingly his outburst finally calmed and he's doesn't know how to finish his sentence. She's staring at him wide eyed, unsure what has come over him to cause this truly uncharacteristic outburst. "Just...please." She's still staring when he finishes talking, finishes his plea. His eyes don't leave hers, both apparently now at a loss as to what to do. They don't speak for several long minutes and she's sure any second he is going to turn and leave and just pretend it hasn't happened, but he doesn't.

Suddenly he is as close to her as he can get without touching her, the door is directly behind her and she has no where to go. A brief flicker of panic flashes inside her but is over quickly, she knows he won't hurt her. She shifts slightly so she is against the wall and he follows her movement, a look of determination in his eye. Her breath hitches and she knows that whatever is about to happen will change things forever. He is suddenly flush against her and she feels his breath on her neck, his mouth is next to her ear when he whispers "tell me what you need, lemme help."

She is truly staggered by his sudden confidence and she can only assume he is truly desperate at this point and cannot think of anything else to do. She realises he can help, right now he can give her what she wants "make me forget." He pauses briefly before asking, "forget what?" She shakes her head gently. "Everything."

She is suddenly back in the moment and desperately trying to achieve what she wants, to forget. His mouth is wet and soft against her neck, his tongue tracing patterns on to her skin before his lips suck against her gently, her hand is gripping his hair and she is panting wildly. His thigh is pressed between her legs and they are clinging to each other so tightly you couldn't get a sheet of paper between them.

She has wanted him for so long, the feeling has been buried deep and not dwelled upon most of the time, but the want has always been there. His hands on her body and mouth on her neck are the reality of many a quiet fantasy she let herself indulge in. She is trying so hard to switch off her mind and lose herself in the sensations, if only for a brief time, but she just can't. She can't do it. She can't use his feelings for her to try and forget every awful thing she has done, if he knew he probably wouldn't even want to touch her. She can't let herself use him like this, she won't. She drops her hands from his head down to her sides and suddenly she feels tears fill her eyes and a deep sob wrenches from her chest.

Daryl shifts, his lips are no longer on her neck, this thigh isn't pressing so insistently against her. One hand buries itself in her hair as he guides her head to his chest. She feels his other hand travel slowly up and down her back as she sobs her grief into his vest. She's clinging to him now, both hands are bunched tightly into his shirt under his vest and she just cannot stop the tears. She has no idea how long they have stood there, how many people have seen them and she really doesn't care. Once the sobs have subsided he releases her and slowly draws her inside the house. He sits her on the couch and mumbles something about making tea.

The few minutes by herself are gratefully received and she uses them to try and get some composure. He returns quickly and hands her a scolding mug. He sits beside her and waits quietly. The silence is not as oppressive as it had been on the porch, but it is still weighed with expectation. She sips her tea, the liquid too hot to comfortably drink but she needs the action to distract her from his gaze. She doesn't look at him, instead she focuses on her drink and whispers quietly "I killed Lizzie."

He doesn't respond and she lifts her eyes to his to try and gage his reaction. She sees no judgement, no hatred, just acceptance that there will be an explanation. She takes a deep breath, puts her cup down and pours out the whole story. She tells him her fear that she is a monster, the awful things she has done, that she can't do it anymore. He listens the whole time, he doesn't say a word. He has taken one of her hands at some point, she had been wringing them together like crazy when he had gently grasped one and pulled it into his lap. His thumb was still gently caressing over her knuckles, soothing her without words. She stops talking with a shuddering sigh and meets his eyes. "There ain't nothin' you'll ever tell me that'll make me think you're a monster, nothin'. Everything you did you had too. It ain't pretty but it don't make you a monster. If you cant do it no more then let me do it for you. I'm sorry I couldn't do it all for you anyway."

She shakes her head gently "I don't want you to do it for me, I don't want anyone to have to do it."

"Well that ain't your choice, cuz I'm sure as shit not letting you get hurt or take off by yourself." Her eyes widen "you think I don't know what's been going round in your head? I know you, I been waiting for it since the night you tired to sneak away before" he swallows heavily "I can't lose you again Carol."

She thought she had cried all she could but big tears are running down her face and she finds herself in Daryl's arms again. With her head buried in his neck she talks against his skin "would you have let me do it Daryl?" He makes a questioning noise against her hair "would you have let me use you to just try to forget?" He stiffens slightly but she feels his head nod against her "even though it would her been wrong for us to start that way, probably would have just done more damage?" He shifts a little but eventually he answers, "would have done whatever you needed."

She raises her head to look at him, she's exhausted, the emotional upheaval draining her body but she needs something more. She knows that sex isn't really the answer, it isn't going to make everything better but she wants to just feel something real. "Will you make love to me Daryl?"

His eyes widen impossibly and he opens his mouth a couple of times, obviously not sure what to say, eventually he chokes out "right now?" She nods. "You're sure?" She nods again "I want you to help me remember, help me remember the good feelings."

He gives one sharp nod and she stands from the couch, reaching a shaking hand out to him she waits for him to take it. His hands are shaking too when he grasps her offered hand and she leads them up the stairs to her bedroom.

AN 2. Well, that it. Good? Bad? Oh dear God never write again?

I haven't marked it as compete because although my smutty scene now doesn't really fit this (it's a little too playful I think) I am kinda open to attempting a seconds chapter.

Thanks for reading folks