A/N: I was honestly so surprised to see such wonderful feedback on my first one-shot, that I decided to turn this into a collection! This was actually inspired from a post I saw on tumblr, and a request sent to me by someone on the same website. (If anyone's curious, I'll send the link.)

Just one note: these one-shots will all be centered around Daryl/Carol, but will not necessarily be related to one another. Some will occur with different situations/time periods than the others. I WILL try and take requests if you guys have any, so feel free to drop them in a review or my PM box! Thanks so much everyone, and I hope you all enjoy!

Some mornings, Daryl would wake up and just absolutely hate his stupid, goddamn life. Especially since the apocalypse hit, or whatever they were calling this...hell. Surprisingly enough, this was actually much worse than waking up knowing his father had been drinking all night, worrying what kind of scars he would soon be adding to the collection on his back. Cigarette burns, fire pokers, knives...just when he thought he'd seen it all, his father would yet again surprise him. Sometimes Merle would protect him. Sometimes not.

But in all, mornings were never Daryl Dixon's favorite time of the day. Often times when he was younger, before the apocalypse hit, he'd wake up with a hangover, or some kind of weird hickey that he couldn't remember getting.

But this morning was different. So, so, much different. Blissfully, most incredibly different than any other morning in his entire life. And what made it all the more incredible was that the proof that he hadn't been dreaming was laying beside him right now, fast asleep with the blankets pulled up just past her bare chest.

Carol.

He carefully turned on his side to face her, very gently so that he wouldn't wake her. She was breathing lightly, her short gray hair slightly ruffled. Overall, she looked very peaceful. Daryl sighed, gnawing on his lower lip, suddenly frustrated with himself. What the hell had he been thinking? God knows what Carol was going to think when she woke up.

They hadn't really been...dating, or anything like that. Hell, they spent so much time together by themselves, but the most intimate they had ever been was a comforting hand squeeze, or a shoulder rub. He knew he had really liked her for a long time, more than he should, and more than he knew was safe for himself or for her. But how had it come to this? Holy shit, he could practically hear Merle's voice now if he were to find out, which was likely since he was now staying with them.

Yee-dawgy little brother! Looks like someone had quite the, ah, experience last night if I do say so myself.

Just thinking about Merle finding out made his cheeks flare.

He turned his attention to Carol again, trying to block out the thought of his idiot brother and his perverted comments he loved to direct towards him.

Daryl sighed again, laying back down to stare at the dull, gray ceiling. He had really screwed up this time, and he could feel the familiar tendrils of self-hatred creep into his system.

I'm such a fucking dumbass. She won't be able to look at me for months, assuming we even live until then.

But she had consented, more than consented really, she seemed to have enjoyed it as much as he did, practically demanding more. But that was when she wasn't thinking, wasn't going over how what they were sharing could affect them later.

If it would affect her at all. Which he knew that her not feeling anything from last night was going to kill him in a way that no walker bite could. He turned his head, gloomily watching her sleep and fighting the urge to punch the cell wall, or throw his crossbow over the balcony.

He had done this with many other women, most whose names he couldn't even remember. They were all the same, and he never had any sort of feelings for a single one of them. Some girl he found at a bar while he was half-trashed, or some friend of a friend's who happened to be wearing a lot of makeup that night. Those kinds of girls.

He never woke up the next morning hating himself like this, worried that he was screwing everything up.

I don't deserve you. I never fucking will.

He groaned quietly, covering his face with his hands. He didn't want to think about how much he cared about this woman, or how beautiful she was, or how she seemed to have wanted him as much as he wanted her. How she had whispered his name when the darkness had almost completely covered her face and body. How he had kissed her neck, her jaw, her shoulder-

Stop, just shut up shut up shut up for God's sake! You're going to have to man up and apologize. Tell her it was a mistake. Tell her you're sorry. Keep away from her from now on, she doesn't need you anyway. She has Rick and Maggie and Glenn to look after her. Leave the prison. You screwed up once anyway. You couldn't even find her little girl in time.

Yes, he knew that's exactly what was going to have to happen. Leaving was going to be best. Maybe, if he was lucky, she would stop hating him sooner if he was gone.

Sounds echoed easily inside the prison that, to him, was seeming more and more everyday like an actual imprisonment. As far as he could tell, nobody was awake. He could leave a note and slip out right now if he wanted to. Leave this mess before he even got himself further into it. Merle would be more than happy to come along.

No. You can't do that, dumbass, not with Rick's kid and the baby you gotta look after.

It wasn't like he owed them anything for God's sake. He had saved their asses more times than he could count. He had every right to leave if he wanted to.

But deep down, he knew that wasn't going to happen. He was too much of a goddamn goody-two shoes, as his brother always loved to say, when it came to this sort of thing.

Sometimes Merle's advice came at the most unwanted and unneeded of times.

He heard her mumble a bit in her sleep, her face screwing up into a slight grimace. God only knew what she could be dreaming about. What did you dream of when you watched your only daughter go missing for over a week, only to find her again as one of those monsters from hell, only to be shot right in front of your eyes? What would he dream about if it were her or Merle-

No, shut up! Just stop it!

She was whimpering in her sleep now, her lips slightly parted, tossing in her troubled sleep. Concerned, he gently shook her shoulder.

"Carol...Carol, wake up." He shook her again.

Her eyes fluttered open, and a sigh of relief escaped her lips as she came to realize that whatever she had just experienced in her dream wasn't real. Slowly, she turned to face him, a grin spreading across her face.

"Hey."

"...Hey."

She kissed his cheek, putting her arms around his neck and resting her head on his bare chest. This was nice.

"Hey Carol?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm...uh...I'm sorry..."

She frowned, turning her face towards his in concern.

"Sorry for what?"

He sighed. "I don't know. Just forget about it."

"Do we need to...stop?" she asked, wondering what he could possibly be thinking right now. That...moment...last night, it wasn't exactly something she planned. She always knew she loved Daryl, ever since he had shown so much concern for her daughter, a young girl that wasn't even his. But how could she possibly get into his head? What was he thinking?

He uncertainly placed a hand on her cheek, desperately trying to somehow convey that he did love her, and he did care about her more than almost anything on this godforsaken planet, but how were you supposed to tell someone that without scaring them away?

She smiled, placing her hand on his. She chuckled, shaking her head slightly.

"What are we doing, Daryl?"

He sighed. "I don't know. If this is too much..."

She frowned again. "No...no, it's not, I-I was just worried that...it was...too much for you. I mean...I just don't..." she trailed off, feeling her cheeks go red.

Maybe he was wrong. She did want this...whatever this was becoming. But how were you supposed to ask a woman that? Do you just come out and say it?

So for the time being, they laid there together in the small, slightly cramped bed without saying a word. He stroked her hair gently, feeling her light breathing against his chest.

"It'd be nice if we never had to get up..." she murmured, chuckling a bit.

"Hey, if it's out there that you're worried about, I ain't gonna let nothing happen to you, you understand?"

She smiled in response. Of course, she knew that. She never had any reason to doubt him. What happened to her daughter was completely outside his control. But she wasn't thinking about that now. She had no need to.

"Did I ever tell you?" she asked.

"Tell me what?"

"That I love you," she said, as if it were obvious.

He blinked, momentarily frozen with surprise at the simple words, stated as if they were facts to be learned in a history book. Carol told things as they were, straight and up front. It was one thing Daryl had always secretly admired about her. The few times she had raised her voice at Rick, he had to turn his head away to hide a laugh at Rick's sudden look of pure surprise. Meek little Carol wasn't as meek as she seemed. So he didn't doubt what she was saying, not for a second. So why was it so goddamn hard to say it back?

Spit it out you asshole, she deserves at least that much!

He loved her. He knew that. But the simple act of saying it was so much harder than believing it.

What if she doesn't believe me? Her former asshole of a husband must have told her that he loved her too.

What he'd give to have the pleasure of putting an arrow through that fucker's brain. He almost wished he could have found Ed stumbling around as a walker after he died, just so he could kill the man himself.

No. Ed never loved her or her daughter.

I love you. I love you.

"You don't need to tell me anything. I...love you too."

'Atta boy little brother! he heard Merle jeer in the back of his head.

Fuck you.

Carol smiled, closing her eyes again as he wrapped his arms around her.

I need a new sub-conscious, Daryl thought as he drifted back asleep. When they woke again, they got dressed, if not a bit awkwardly in each other's presence. Carol had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the blush spreading across Daryl's cheeks as he pulled on a t-shirt, knowing she was watching from the corner of her eye.

Before they left to join the others for breakfast, Daryl took Carol firmly by the shoulders, making sure she was looking him directly in the eye. He needed to make sure she heard exactly what he was telling her.

"Listen to me. I am not Ed. I will never, ever lay so much as a finger on you unless you want me to. That-that asshole never loved you. I love you, Carol, do you understand me? And I know, I know I've screwed up a lot, and-and I can be a goddamn loud-mouth sometimes, but I mean it, Carol. I wouldn't lie to you and you know that. No one is ever gonna do to you what that stupid excuse of a man did to you and your daughter. I won't let that happen to you, even if...even if this doesn't work out in the end. You got that?"

He saw her eyes fill up with tears. But they were tears of gratitude, hell, they were tears of relief. How long had it been since she had fully trusted a man her age with something like this? That she had loved in return? She threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered. He nodded shortly in response.

Together, they walked downstairs to join the others for breakfast.

What, no words of wisdom, older brother? Daryl thought, as he caught sight of Merle from his respected cell. For once, Daryl heard nothing.

He intended to keep it that way.