This will be two chapters long. It stems from a song I heard by Frances called "Don't worry about me"...I couldn't get it out of my head and the Caryl feels it invoked. The lyrics fit so perfectly with how Carol and Daryl have always been with each other.

With this fic I asked the lovely and talented Na-Bruma-Leve to put together a video to accompany the story using the song. She did an outstanding job. Please go check it out.

Also a huge thank you to the amazing Oohhshiny for the beautiful manip of the hug scene she made for my birthday and then went out of her way to make it into a banner for this story.

"You left?"

The events of the past few hours were merging into a blur for Carol. The showdown with Negan, Rosita shocking them all when she drove one of their cars through Sanctuary's gates, letting the dead trap the Saviors inside their walls. Finding Daryl in the thick of the organised chaos. Almost tripping over herself to meet him halfway. Carol had thrown her arms around him. Daryl reciprocated just as tight. They'd pulled back simultaneously. Neither one looking at anything but each other. Eyes drifted closed. Lips almost touching. Then Rick's screams of "Retreat". The moment was gone. She took his hand instead. Led him to the bus. Back to ASZ.

That was only a few hours ago.

Now? Well now Daryl sits on the edge of her bed looking completely distraught. He tries to school his tone but the expression on his face betrays him.

Carol can't face him in that moment. Preferring to keep her back to him, her attention on absolutely nothing going on outside her window. She can feel his eyes on her. She's being a coward. He knows it.

"You gonna stand there all night or you gonna answer me?" He puffs out.

Carol turns her head away from the window, not quite looking at him, "Who told you?"

She already knows the answer.

Rick.

She'd walked Daryl into the house, Rick following close behind. She'd excused herself after running his shower and leaving out clean clothes. Carol had needed to clear her head, Daryl was back. Alive. The relief that flooded her senses was almost too much to deal with. So she took a walk and she cried. Alone. Just how she thought it should be.

It was dusk when she got back. Rick was gone. Daryl freshly showered sitting on the the end of her bed. Asking her something she wasn't sure she wanted to answer tonight or ever.

"It don't matter who told me. S'it true?" Daryl's rough voice draws Carol back out of her thoughts.

She looks directly at him then. His eyes bore into her soul. She feels bare. And all she can do is nod her head.

Daryl quickly turns away, chewing nervously on his bottom lip. Tension like this was unusual from them. They could go hours sat in comfortable silence. Words unspoken, communicating only with their eyes. But neither one could keep eye contact. It was painfully deafening.

Carol watches him cautiously from the window as his head hangs low. She sees his attention is on his fingers, nervously tugging tightly at the throw folded at the bottom of her bed.

"So that's it then? You just walked your ass on outta here. Fuck what anyone else thought? How anyone felt?" The venom in his tone alarms her but she quickly righted herself, taking a determined step forward.

"You don't get to say that to me Daryl. You don't have the first clue. It doesn't matter now, I'm still here, remember? So drop it."

Daryl shakes his head in defiance. "Nah, I ain't droppin' a damn thing. Why did you leave?"

Carol can't do this right now. He's been through hell. They both have. How can she tell him he was the reason.

The realisation had hit her like a tonne of bricks at the time. Standing watching him dig another grave, Denise this time. She'd felt it then. She'd regarded his pained expression and the way he tried to numb it with the miniature bottle of Jack. Ironically it had a sobering effect on her. She knew then she couldn't stay there. The conflict between her heart and head overwhelmed her. Carol couldn't just kill anymore. For the people she cared about. She couldn't kill for the one she loved.

Daryl.

But she couldn't stand around and watch them die. She couldn't stand around and watch him die. She'd told him that in Atlanta. She'd meant it. It was better for everyone if she just wasn't there.

Carol's theory had soon been tested to its limit when she'd caught glimpse of a man entering The Kingdom wearing Daryl's vest and carrying Daryl's crossbow. She felt her resolve crumble as she quickly approached the stranger. The red mist descended as she grabbed the vest, wrenching it off the unsuspecting man. It all happened in a flash, her knife at his throat. Demanding to know where he got Daryl's belongings. His vest.

He was Dwight. A savior. He explained his situation. Told her Daryl was alive but held prisoner by Negan. Wanted to make a deal. Carol shoved him away. There was no way she could just sit back and not doing something. She had to try.

Carol realised she'd been looking at it all wrong. She was wrong. She had to try.

"I can't do his right now, Daryl. You should probably try to rest. It's been a crazy day."

Daryl sighs loud enough to let her know he's getting irritated at her constant dismissals. Still he's plucking carelessly at the throw.

"Crazy ain't the word and it's been more than just a day an' you know it." He pauses to take a hesitant breath before continuing.

"When that prick had us down on our knees, playing a game on which one he was gonna kill. I thought that was it, I was a goner. Was gonna get my brains smashed in. All I could think about was you and how I was too much of a damn pussy to tell you I…."

Daryl raises his head, his eyes lock onto Carol's.

"I thought I was dead and they say that your life flashes in front of your eyes when you're face to face with Death. All the good. The hope. And there you was. Nothing from before all this shit started. No Merle. No folks. It was all you. Trying to find your girl. The Cherokee Rose. I saw you at the prison. 'Member when I carried you outta Solitary?" He stops, waiting for her response.

Carol nods.

"I found you, that's what you said. Said the prison was our home. But it weren't mine. This place ain't either. Knew when I thought I lost you that time, it didn't feel like home 'cause you wasn't there. Then I lost you again and I ended up losin' a part of myself for a while. The only thing that got me through that shit with Negan was thinking of home. You."

He stands up then. Pacing as his own words agitate him. His voice is loud as his temper flares.

"But there weren't gonna be a home to come back to 'cause you wasn't gonna be here. You fuckin' left." Daryl spits as his pacing stops right in front of Carol. He points his finger at her accusingly, "How could you do that?"

The manner in which he speaks to Carol is unacceptable. She moves forward to close the gap, grabbing his pointed finger and pushing it away from her face and down by his side. Instead of letting go she slips her hand in his and holds it. Daryl lets her.

"Are you done?" She scolds.

He doesn't look at her.

"Daryl, please look at me?" Carol pleads. She's having a hard time trying to stop the involuntary shaking that's taken over her body.

His head lifts. Eyes glistening with unshed tears waiting for permission to fall.

"You left?" He sniffs. He is on the verge of a complete breakdown. Carol brings their joined hands up to her mouth and kisses his grazed knuckles.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, okay? But l'm still here. Right now. I'm here with you."

Daryl blinks. A lone tear journeys down his stubbled cheek. Carol raises her free hand and cups his face, wiping the tears trail away with her thumb. Daryl's breath hitches in his chest.

"M'sorry too. Didn't mean to raise my voice like that but I just…I don't wanna lose you again. M' always losin' you. The prison, Atlanta….here. Tobin?"

Carol tries to interrupt but Daryl squeezes her hand to halt her.

"Felt you slippin' away. You was always with him. Couldn't get near you. Didn't think you needed my ass anymore. Thought I was too late…. Am I?"

She shakes her head no, tears close to escaping. He was killing her.

"No, it's not too late. But Daryl…."

"I was gonna kiss you. Wanted to. Before leaving Negan's place. You think maybe I could try again?"

A sob breaks out from between Carol's worried lips. Her caged tears already falling free. She takes a step back. Hand slipping from his face.

She'd wanted to kiss him in that moment, of course she did. But she'd been caught up in the elation of him being there. Still breathing. But it would be a mistake to let that happen again. She couldn't. He didn't need the distraction and she didn't need the inevitable heartbreak.

Carol watches through her overflowing orbs as his expression changes from hopeful to confused to a look she has become accustomed to.

She'd hurt him. She was still hurting him.

Another step back. Carol tries pulling her hand out of his but his grasp tightens.

She stares down at their hands still linked. Notices how his engulfs her own. Knuckles white at the pleading grip.

Please don't let go.

"Please?" Is all she manages to say. She needs to distance herself.

Daryl looks to the floor as his grip loosens. Her hand's gone and she's moving away from him.

He stands completely still. Chin quivering. Hands squeezed into fists. She knows he's listening to her shift around behind him now. He knows what she's doing.

Knows she's trying to leave.

Again.

"I love you.." He whispers.

It's all he has right now. He's desperate.

Carol huffs out an unsettled breath, "You can't."

Her hand is already on the handle of the door. She suddenly feels his presence as tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. He's approached her like the stealthy hunter he has always been.

"Why can't I?" Daryl growls. Carol can feel his breath on the top of her head. His broad chest bumps gently against her back.

She shivers. He's too close again. It's too much.

"You just can't!" She gasps out. Pushing down the handle and pulling it back. She can see through the opening.

And then it slowly disappears.

The familiar touch of his fingers over hers as he leans into her, has Carol pleading with herself to stay strong. Daryl carefully pushes the door closed.

His breath now hot behind her ear. His nose brushing feather light against delicate whisps of her hair.

Daryl rests his forehead against the back of her head. He's breathing in her scent, she can hear it.

This intimacy is new. Especially from him.

He's bringing her hand away from the door. This time he'll be the one linking their fingers.

He's wrapping both their arms around her slight waist. Carol leans forward. He follows.

Her head rests against the coolness of the solid pine exit. Daryl settles his against her trembling shoulder.

"Please, don't go?" he whispers on to her ethereal skin. "I can.. I can be better. I'll try harder...just wanna be with you. Please?"

Carol whimpers. He think's he's not good enough for her. He's wrong. And she can feel herself cracking on the surface.

"It's not you. It's…..it's me. The things I've done. The awful things...you can't love someone like me."

She feels his lips press against her bare skin. Warm. Wanting. Safe.

"I don't care." He exhales. She believes him.

She knew deep down he wouldn't. But those three words are enough.

She shatters. An eruption of emotions bubble to the surface and seep over.

And he holds her.

But she starts to fall down towards the floor.

He won't let go. Daryl falls with her.

Eventually they'll rise.

When they do?

It will be together.