A/N: Thank you every who reviewed and all that are following! Let me love you down. Happy reading 3

Begin Again: Chapter Two

TWD

He'd been out all day, moving west, walking parallel to a small stream. By the time the sun was low, Daryl began walking back. He could've gone straight in- he had a few rabbits, bunch of squirrels- but instead headed south, meaning to loop to the back of property. Hopefully catching something else. Tracks were thin on the ground. And they all were getting thinner and thinner as winter dragged on. Carol probably less than the animals he was pulling in today.

It wasn't until he came up to the edge of the property, the sky now black, that he knew something was wrong. There was that god awful smell. The one that permanently made camp in his nose no matter where the hell they were. Rotting corpses.

Exhausted but with crossbow pointed and ready, Daryl picked up running towards the house. His steel tied boot landed on something soft with an odd crunch to it as he broke through the woods to the property. A skull. After stomping so many you get to learn what parts made what sounds underfoot.

Shit.

From her window she saw him run up fast to the house, crossbow as ever trained and ready. Relief flushed over her instantly, pushing out the worry and fretting she'd done all day. It wasn't so unusual for him to get back just as night was properly falling. But since dawn Daryl happened to occupy more of minds thoughts than she maybe liked to admit. She could breathe easier now and the small little room she had began feeling a lot more calming.

Her room was up top, everyone insisting she have one to herself to be more comfortable. She had been a little lonely actually, not used to not being in such close quarters with everyone, but knowing Daryl was back made that unconsciously trickle away. Easing back just a bit, she started on mending the very last shirt for the day. It was Glenn's, the long gash cut from upper arm right across to the shoulder. She had tried to wash most of the blood out that morning and it was somewhat acceptable. It wouldn't be pretty to look at but it would be wearable, the only real requirement nowadays.

Her relaxed posture was quickly shifted when she heard a commotion coming up through the floor.

Definitely Daryl speaking. Well, yelling really. And not for the first time that day her stomach dropped. She had forgotten to ask everyone to be as vague as possible when it came to her involvement that day. Today had been exhausting and once everyone had finished what needed to be done, they had headed to bed. She was up and still working, almost done with her mending. Rick was keeping watch and an eye out for Daryl so between the two of them the house had been plenty quiet.

'Til Daryl got in. It got louder and louder as time went on, making her wonder if she should grab the candle beside her and head down. But she was stiff and exhausted and eventually Daryl would come up. Maybe seeing her all cut up wouldn't help anyways. She wondered how she would have kept the story quiet with her all cut up anyways.

The heavy footfalls landed on the stairs, fast and two at a time. Carol was going to put down her work, but mending or no, it wouldn't stop the storm that was Daryl Dixon when he was upset. Might as well do something productive while he cursed.

Walking into that small cold little room, did nothing to calm him down. Downstairs he got the gist of what happened, and connected the dots. No way in hell could anyone else take down Walkers quiet-like like Carol could.

He pushed the door open, the frame banging against the wall and making her eyes snap up to meet his.

"Holy fuckin' hell." He shouted, face crumpling up in a mix of emotions. She looked like total shit.

Perched on the edge of the chair in the corner, needle in one hand and blood stained shirt in another, Carol sat calmly if clearly tired. In a small cardigan and shorts, every inch of the skin he could see was cut, bruised, red or dirty. No part of her was spared. Ed must've been walk in the park compared to this.

"It's fine," she said like she always did. Words that were as dead as any Walker was. Damn other people never heard through that lie like he did. "I just have to finish this, I'll clean myself up, and be just fine."

Even talking he could see was painful for her: he purple and swollen bottom lip, cut across the bridge of her nose slanting up towards her eye, the skin that had been shredded and scrap clean off her jaw line. It all scream pain.

"Yer one dumb bitch ya know that." He spat, chest heaving as his blood boil under his skin. "Ya fuckin' save their ungrateful skins and yer here, mending their fuckin' shirts?"

He grabbed the shirt out of her hands, whipping it across the room. It hit a lamp and crashed loudly to the floor breaking into tiny shards.

"What the hell were ya thinkin'? Goin' out there like that? Could'a got damn well killed or fuckin' worse!"

He couldn't even look at her as she sat there and just took it. Just like she always did. From him, from them, from fucking everyone. She saved them, everyone, and here she was cleaning up more of their mess like she owed them something, like she had to prove herself, like they still thought of her a burden that needed to pick up the slack. Like she was worth less than them. Made him fucking sick.

"Daryl," she offered, barely loud enough to be heard over his stomping feet as he paced the room, not very much unlike a riled up bull. "I'm not dead. I'm just cut up. Things got busy and these," she gestured to her cuts. "Aren't going anywhere."

"What, 'cause ya think ya deserve less than 'eryone? Glenn cuts his god damn shoulder, so let's clean up his sorry ass, let's sew up his fuckin' shirts. But you, let's ignore her, her pain ain't as fuckin' important. Shit Carol, it happened this mornin', what do ya think you fuckin' owe them?"

Her voice got firmer. Everyone was tired. He had been hunting the entire day, she had been working the entire day and heaven help her she was going to get him to bed so she could too. His anger wasn't getting them any closer. "I wasn't bleedin' out Daryl. Nothing too deep, nothing too painful. Just stiff and sore. I'll get over it."

He suddenly closed the distance between them and grabbed her wrist, looking down to see her reaction to a simple touch. She almost didn't wince as the light touch set a painful heat down her arm.

"Ya see? Shit Carol!" Letting go he paced the small room furiously.

He hadn't ever looked after someone so much as Carol before. Not even Merle and all his stints in the pen. Here he was protecting people's lives. Her life. Or god damn trying too.

Yeah, she was good now. Could defend herself. So what? So that son'v'bitch rick could shove her in the middle of the fucking woods alone like she hadn't only been doing this a few months?!

"And what," He said finished his thought out loud, jumping up to open the door and yell down the hall. "So this worthless bunch'a assholes can watch ya get torn to fucking shreds?"

Carol sigh soundlessly, watching the man in front of her start pace again, eyes practically red and steam coming from his ears.

He worried, worried like it hadn't already happened, that he couldn't've of done something. That made him seethe with anger.

They never saw her worth, not even now when they're pushing her into the fire to save their asses. And then she came back- a miracle at all- hurt and suffering and they put her work like what she had just done didn't matter a lick.

Gripping his hair tight in one hand, all that could be heard was his stomping boots on floor and audible breathing.

Carol sighed again, this time wearily. She was too tired to fight his anger, and knew it would take some days to simmer out.

But faster than she could see, he practically ran out of the room. Like her tired little groan had spent him running. The sudden quiet buzzed in her ears. Straining herself to hear what in heaven he was doing, Carol waited for the sound of a yelling match, or worse, the sound of something like another lamp or someone like Rick being thrown against the wall.

Waiting in that terse silence, Carol was surprised when the door opened and Daryl wordlessly walked in, bowl of water, cloth and Hershel's bag under his arm.

"What..." Carol started, Daryl crouching down to her and rummaging through the bag. "Did you take this from him? What if Glenn-"

"Than he can go ahead and fuckin' deal with it."

"You've been out huntin' all day, you gotta be exhausted, just let me-"

"You ain't done this all day when ya could've, so shut it."

He put some supplies on the table beside her: some bandages and antibiotic ointment. Without touching her skin, Daryl slowly peeled the cardigan off one arm. She breathed through the little pricks of pain everywhere as the fabric clung to her opened skin. In the small house with some many, everyone grazed her now and than no matter how careful they all were, so she had no choice but to put the cardigan on for some protection, however uncomfortable.

Somehow, just in the pyjamas she wore every morning downstairs and the ones Daryl saw everyday, somehow now she felt a lot more exposed. With him nothing but a few inches away she tried to swallow that feeling down. Besides, privacy was not a survival essential so they'd seen plenty of each other. She should've been used to this by now.

"Fucking pyjamas." he muttered.

Looking down with eyebrows raised, Carol saw what his tone had suggested. He was smirking, looking fairly smug to himself amidst all the anger still playing around on his face.

"Oh, don't go getting that look now. You just had every feather in the bunch ruffled." She snorted.

"Well maybe ya'll fucking learn." He looked at her seriously, slowly and gently dragging a wet cloth down her arm, careful to gingerly clean each cut. "Gotta be prepared for those son'v'bitches to chuck you out the window at those Walkers."

She just nodded at that, letting him do his work. Reminding himself of what the group had done- what she practically begged Rick to let her do actually- put those angry lines back on his face. His brows were pulled together and jaw clamping shut tighter and tighter the more he saw of her. But at least this focused enough of his mind to keep from hollering.

He wasn't all that angry at her exactly, however stupid she was for going out there without him. The braver she got, the worse he got. He couldn't protect her if she was running off into every fight the second he was out the door. He saw the woman broken by the loss of her girl, a woman who couldn't put herself back together and protect herself at the same time. She was stronger than the others ever gave her credit for, dealing with Sophia's death and putting that axe threw her worthless husbands head. Strong enough to deal with a life probably not unlike his own before the world went to shit. They never talked about it, but they knew none the less. You didn't have to speak the past, you showed it every day. And without voicing it, they both knew something else; that she was the person closest to him, and he was the person closest to her.

Coming from where he did Daryl never found the slow realization much comfortable, brushing it off with the fact that hell, there were only a handful of people alive and around, or with anger whenever stunts like this brought up his anxiety to the surface. It took months of realizing it and he wished he hadn't.

The words were on his lips. Words that would have explained the anger, the resistance, the insults. That she was the only thing he had. That he just couldn't let her get hurt. Couldn't handle that the thought of losing her. Simple enough but complicated as hell for someone like him. It sounded like some cliché shit so thick it made his stomach roll.

"I'll finish up I think." Her voice interrupted his thoughts, sending those words back down his throat with a tight swallow. He hadn't been paying much attention to where his hands were working. With both hands working up her thigh, pressing harder into her skin than he should be, Daryl quickly lifted them away and sat up, swallowing again.

"Ya sleepin' here." He assumed, nodding toward the single bed pushed against the wall.

She nodded and he saw that most of her was now clean, thanks to his unconsciously working hands. Carol grabbed some of the ointment, dabbing on a cloth before gently rubbing it across her skin.

"Yeah, got a place to myself tonight." Her voice dripped with exhaustion and that ointment probably felt none too good, so the happiness creeping into that line confused him. He knew her well enough to know she couldn't get comfortable without people around. Being alone made her restless.

"No, you ain't." Daryl laid down right beside the bed, no changing, no pillow, no blankets. Just lied down and closed his eyes, giving her some privacy to do whatever it was she needed to do.

"Daryl-" she started.

"What, you think I'm gonna let ya sleep by yerself so you can get up at dawn and walk in'ta herd 'a Walkers? Just get t'bed."

He heard her shuffle around a while, the audible snip of scissors cutting through a bandage strip, the repacking of Hershel's bag, the rummaging through her pack to grab clean clothes. He wondered what she decided to put on instead of her usual and ridiculous pyjamas, but he kept his eyes firmly shut.

Eventually the candle was blow out and the bed not two inches from him creaked as her small framed finally rested down on it. Something soft landed on his chest and he glanced down to see a small blanket and pillow there, Carol's hand lingering a moment before being tucked back in under her own covers.

"Thank you Daryl." She whispered into the darkness. He didn't respond for a while, taking to looking up at the black ceiling for a time.

"Yeah." Was all he said. Usually they didn't do the whole chitchat, pleasantries, or whatever the crap you call it thing; they knew each well enough by now that they didn't need too. But he made the effort for her.

Carol smiled in the darkness, looking down in the direction of where he lay in the blackness. He never usually responded to stuff like that. Every word you got out of Daryl Dixon- save when he's furious and you can't keep him quiet- was not to be taken for granted.

TWD

That morning was hard. Daryl left her as soon as she was up, giving her the time and privacy to very slowly ease into the morning. It was dawn, which was actually good, giving her enough time to carefully get dressed and slowly head down the stairs into the kitchen.

He was outside in the yard, chopping wood so they could keep the fire going. Carol watched him by the back door, rubbing her aching arms and neck.

"I think of all mornings you could use this." Lori said behind her, handing Carol one of two mugs, brimming with coffee. They used the stuff sparingly, only having it once a week, and Carol wanted to hug Lori for making it this morning.

"If I wasn't so stiff I'd be jumping for joy." She said with a smile after taking that first beautiful sip.

"I think you deserve at least a cup of coffee. We can give you that much."

The second mug in hand, Lori took the screen door handle.

"Looks like a storm is brewing out there, I better handle this one." Carol said, placing her hand on Lori's shoulder. She looked at Carol, confused for a moment before her eyes followed Carol's to the man outside. Her expression immediately shifted to understanding. With a nod she passed the cup over, and Carol made the short trek outside in the brisk winter air.

"Figured you for sleepin' in today." Carol said over the sound of Daryl splintering the wood with his axe. The pieces cut through cleanly, a lot more equal in size than Carol could ever manage.

"No rest for the weary." Daryl shrugged, grabbing the steaming mug from Carol. "The world mighta changed but that sayin' ain't any less true."

Carol nodded, taking a sip that for a second made her forget just how bad that morning after feeling could be.

Looking back up, Daryl was turned from her, hand on his back that was ever carrying his crossbow.

Any feeling of peace that coffee had given her drained instantly. "What is it?"

His answer was given to her by his actions, grabbing his crossbow and letting a bolt loose into the woods.

She wanted to believe that it was an animal. That they had gotten lucky and got an easy meal this early in the morning. After all the hardship to took jus to eat lately she hoped this was a little bit of luck for them.

But she knew instantly that it was very much the opposite when Daryl walked swiftly to her, leaving the bolt in the woods. He put a hand on the small of her back, leading her in as quickly as her muscles could manage. His eyes only shifted between her and the woods.

Wordlessly they reached the house, Daryl pushing Carol gently in and grabbing the door, forcing it shut between them.

"I don' like this one bit." He muttered, eyes sharply looking out into the woods.

"I don't either," Carol said, very much meaning the door he pushed between them. "Let me help."

"Than go get Rick an' tell 'im." He aimed his crossbow again, and another bolt flew, a soft hiss in the quiet morning.

The man in question came through the kitchen to the door, Daryl allowing him through the threshold to the outside.

"This ain't good man" Daryl whispered. Aiming and firing again, Carol's hand went the closed door frame reflexively.

Yes, this winter had been very rough. And unfortunately for them it looked like it was going to last a little longer.

TWD

"Found s'more stragglers, got no clue where they're goin' too but know well enough where they're comin' from." Daryl slammed the truck door truck, talking with Rick about something that was becoming more and more apparent. They would have to move on and soon.

It had been maybe two weeks since she put down that football player Walker, making her voice the worry that there could've been a college nearby. No way that Walker was in high school. That meant potentially thousands of bodies on campus. Who knows how many survived, how many died or how many turned. She wanted to think he had just travelled from a distance, but that next morning Daryl had put another one down, same uniform and all. It put everyone on edge and with Walkers showing up more often, they had reason to be.

Daryl especially. He had been circling her, orbiting around her peripherals all that time. When she was cooking he was there, outside chopping wood, getting water, cleaning up, washing dishes; he was always there. Not often in the same room, not usually directly in her line of sight, but always there. He'd hang around the dining room door when she was in the kitchen and hang around in the kitchen when she was in the living room. At night he would sleep within inches of her on the floor just below the bed, refusing to let them take turns in it, refusing to go sleep in another room with a couch or pull one into her room. At first she figured he was helping her because she couldn't do her normal routine without some assistance, and Daryl would hardly let anyone near her. He could hold a grudge, that she had come to realize. But once she was more or less back to herself, he was still always within reach of her.

She doubted the others noticed. Or more so hoped not. Daryl didn't go hunting as often, didn't stay out as long, and couldn't bring much back when he did. He said it was Walkers that kept him in the house most days and that obviously was reason enough, but every time someone brought it up, his eyes looked to her for a second, almost unconsciously done. She knew she was the reason, whatever else he was telling the others. He barely left her alone- well, in his own way at least- when he was around. She could tell he wasn't about to risk having her out of his sight for all too long. Neither of them brought it up.

When he did have to go, often Carol herself would come along. That new development astounded her the first time he suggested it. He said she was the only one who knew how to set traps. True, but she could probably take less than an hour explaining a basic trap to anyone in the house. Rick also insisted no one, under any circumstances go out passed the tree line alone. Also a good reason, but nonetheless half way through their first time out she still was a little bewildered by him.

While he watched her back, she set up a couple traps not too far from the house, something that could be quick enough to get too. They didn't want to set up traps deep in the woods, only to meet a group of Walkers that had been attracted by the sound. This way they could check more often, hopefully avoid any unnecessary noise. Much less actually get some meat back into their daily meals.

They travelled a little deeper for Daryl to be able to shoot enough of something decent. They stayed close together and walked lightly. And after a while of Daryl watching her like a hawk in the house, Carol was used to him looking over at her every few seconds.

He knew he was hovering around her too much. If the others happened to notice Carol for one second out of their selfish lives, he wouldn't care if they realized how constant a companion he had been since that night.

When she had been broken down all those months ago, they had avoided her like if she fell apart on their watch they would have pick up the mess. Well now she had gotten through something not many could've, and so now they treated her like anything could be thrown at her and she'd still be standing. They just treated her the way they wanted, no regard to her at all. No one else understood her, no one else cared for her like he knew how.

He never hung around her, not exactly, but often he could feel her eyes on him, probably wondering that the hell he was doing. He realized fast that sticking to her side wasn't an option. The woman hustled and bustled around so much, even when recovering, that he was surprised her feet didn't rub right off her legs. So to stay out of her way he hung back, eyes away from her, a wall usually between, but ears constantly listening to her movements and a vantage point where he could always see her if he turned her way.

Yeah he didn't leave the house without her, and yeah he often made excuses to stay inside so she could be safer. He didn't over think why it meant so much to him, knowing who she was, how she worked and that he felt this need to keep her safe. He doubted he would want to face that answer so he let it be. Hardly mattered in a world where everything not revolving around survival was long abandoned anyways.

He only left her just the once. And that was because compared to what he was doing, being in the house, even without him was safer. He regretted it from the moment he left til he got back, but it was the only way. His head at least knew it.

"We have to move, don't we." Carol asked him when he got back from the scout. Him and Rick talked about what he had found, and it wasn't good.

Carol was out in the driveway with Beth, packing up some things that would be left behind if they had to leave in the hurry. She knew it was coming. They could all feel it.

"You were right." Daryl said to her, waiting til Beth walked inside. He looked her way, eye squinting in the sun and hip leaning up against a truck. "There's a college or somethin' not too far from here. It ain't good."

Carol took a slow deep breath, nodding once as she pushed a box into the back as deep as it would go. She missed the days where they had Dale's RV and not have to worry about lugging all these necessary extras around. Everything was always just left in the RV. Taking refuge in a place and abandoning all the stuff they had was exhausting and disheartening.

"Rick's gonna tell 'erybody we leave in the mornin'." He helped he slam the door and he followed her into the house. She didn't look forward to the weary looks everyone would have at the news, so she tried to put on a face that didn't betray her deep set tiredness.

Everyone had wanted a more permanent place, like the farm had been, to just settle for a while. Lori was so close to having her baby and that weighed heavily on Rick, despite the growing distance between them. He was their leader, the father of a baby soon to be born, and Carol knew he would take this decision the hardest and put a face like it wasn't.

TWD

The night air was crisp, oddly warmer than the air had been that morning. It was rare Carol would stand by the open door, lost in feeling. It wasn't exactly overly safe and with it being winter it wasn't so kind on her body anyways. But come tomorrow morning, they would be on the road for who knows how long. She just wanted to enjoy the feeling while she could.

"See anythin' out there?" A small voice asked behind her.

"Nope, just trees and the dark. It's a pretty look." Carol smiled, taking Beth's hand and the two just looked out for a bit.

"Think we'll find a place a bit bigger than this one?" Beth queried. She said it with a tinge of hopefulness. That made Carol's smile grow a bit.

"Maybe. I'm sure one's out there somewhere." Carol shrugged.

"I just want my own room again. I can go without running water I guess, but having my own bed and space... I'd just love not to share a room anymore."

Carol chuckled, squeezing the girls hand. Even in an apocalyptic world, sixteen year olds were still very much sixteen year olds.

"Daryl, we need to figure out some alternate routes in case." Rick called to the man sitting a few feet behind her on the steps. She heard him get up, walking back to the dining room where the men were getting things in order for their early morning departure.

It was quiet for a few minutes with nothing but the sound of packing and murmurs from everyone getting ready. But some soft sounds out in the forest began to reach her ears.

"What's that?" Beth whispered. Carol was barely able to hear the suddenly very pale girl beside her.

As if in response, a small and sadly pained squeak answered her question.

"Just something in one of our traps honey." Carol responded reassuringly.

"It sounds in pain." The squeaks were getting louder and pulling on Carol's heartstrings. Nothing deserved a slow death.

She waited a little bit before she moved into action. She wanted to be sure it was the trap and not the jaws of a Walker that was causing the animal to cry out.

Carol released the young girl, bending down to grab her pack that had been ready and placed by the door earlier. All her clothes and such were already in a car, but this bag had weapons and other odds and ends she need to have close at hand.

Reaching in she pulled out a large knife and unsheathed it. "Beth honey, I'm not going far, it's literally just up there," she said, pointing, at the end of the driveway just out into the woods. A few hundred feet maybe.

Beth nodded, taking the gun Carol pressed into her hand. "You watch me, and if something is up, you whistle, okay? I'll do the same."

Quickly Carol was out the door and into the night, her pack on her back, flashlight in one hand while the other had her knife at the ready. She really didn't think about calling for Daryl. He and everyone else was busy, and Beth might be young but she wasn't incapable of simply looking out. And this had to be dealt with that moment as the animal's shrieking sound in the quiet night was not something they could afford.

Stepping a few feet into the woods, Carol used the sound of the animal and her recollection to find the poor thing.

But not before something got to it first.

A distinct crunch of the animals skull echoed in Carol's ears as she saw it be ripped out of the trap. An owl, large and silent had heard it and swooped down for an easy meal.

She pulled her fingers through her hair, wishing that she hadn't wasted precious seconds to come out and get it. It would have been nice to cook up a hot and hearty meal before they left.

Turning around, Carol had only one more step before she left the woods for the much favourable driveway, when she saw them.

Walkers, coming up from the south had filed into the backyard. She didn't bother to count because their numbers had to be in the dozens with more filtering in.

Immediately Carol turned off her flashlight and whistled, leaving Beth confused with her sudden disappearance in the blackness. She was a smart enough girl not to call out, and in her confusion stepped back from the door and closed the screen. Carol almost whispered a "good girl" in her direction.

Mind now racing , Carol knew the others would see the herd. They had too. They would turn out the lights, stand silent, come up with a plan for escape if need be. She thought for a moment that she could make it to the house before they saw, but just as she was ready to kick her ass into gear, she saw the Walkers begin to come from the south east too. And they would definitely see her. Carol knew if she ran up to the house now, it would be over for everyone, not just her. She'd give them all away.

But hell if she didn't have anywhere to go and they were heading straight for her.

The cars. It was her only safe bet. There was one maybe a hundred feet away. She silently cursed, knowing it wasn't one she had the keys for. Better an open forest where you can run away from your predator than be pinned down. The fresh image of the blood dripping animal the owl had just taken from her trap came to mind.

She had no choice; she'd have to go for the one slightly farther away. She could drive off and get the herd to follow her and leave the others in safety, circling back when she had led the Walkers far enough away.

Low and quiet, Carol began to run.

And she didn't get very far. Halfway there, another part of the herd emerged, this time on the west side and much much closer to her. Skidding to a stop, she fell back, both palms scrapping on the gravel. Not a second before she was down did she hop back up, sprinting back to the tree line. Looking behind her, there was no unusually fast movement in her direction. The darkness and the car closest to her maybe blocked the Walkers view.

It was just a moment, maybe two that she stood there, on the edge of the property, not a few hundred feet from the only people in the world she knew. Her family. She allowed herself that moment, to feel the terror and heartbreak before she took her only option.

Run away. From the Walkers, from the group, from safety, from him, from it all.

She forced her mind to go blank and her feet to turn away and start running.

She stayed along the edge of the road leading away from the house, not daring to turn on her flashlight and not stupid enough to think she could get through the woods without it slowing her down.

In the darkness she ran, tears falling and heart aching for what she left behind, praying that at least she would survive this.

A/N: Nothing quite like writing a fanfic til 6am. I hope you guys enjoy presense of Daryl in this Caryl story compared to Chapter One ;)