Author's Note: I want to thank everyone who is reading and reviewing my story. I want to explain the little mystery from chapter 3. In the Pride and Prejudice movie with Miss Knightley, there was the climactic scene at the end with Mr. Darcy walking towards her in the dawn. Totally swoon worthy! When I watched the scene with Daryl walking towards Carol's "grave" with the Cherokee Rose in season 3, I had an overwhelming sense of deja vu. I called that Daryl's Mr. Darcy moment. If I had to compare Austen characters, I'd say Daryl was more a Captain Wentworth and Rick more Edward Ferrars though. This chapter should explain why Carol has been more open about a relationship with Rick. Just know, whatever happens going forward, Daryl is still very much in the picture, no matter how hard Carol tries to deny it. I hope you enjoy...

4. Blind

The morning started way too early for Carol's liking. Her sleep had been restless, thoughts of Daryl's return and her searing kiss with Rick swirling around her head. She felt almost a sense of vertigo as she got out of bed and began dressing. She hurried out to the outdoor kitchen to start preparing the morning meal, her steps not as light as they were yesterday. Meal time flew by, and although Rick came down to eat breakfast, the two didn't have a chance to talk. One of the others that had kitchen duty was out with a burn to the hand they received the day before. Carol was nonstop and only was able to eat for herself by nibbling as she cooked and dished out the meals for everyone. Rick and Michonne were heading just outside the prison to check the snares, so all Carol got was a wink and a wave as he left. Carol was so focused on finishing up the morning meal she didn't hear the silent hunter as he came up behind her.

"Morning," he drawled, "anything left for me?" Carol gave him a smile and nodded, reaching down to retrieve the large bowl of oatmeal she had kept warm on the grill just for him. He took it from her with his trademark half smile. Instead of sitting down at a table with one of the few stragglers left over, he leaned against the countertop and started eating the gruel. He didn't even budge when she had to reach around him a few times to clean up.

Carol felt that familiar feeling of vertigo come up again as she reached past him to retrieve a clean dish towel. Her breasts brushed against his torso and she was flabbergasted he made no move to flinch or retreat. In fact, he stopped her by grasping her waist and she was moving back into place. They were flush against each other, in broad daylight, in front of other members of the group. The look he gave her was only what she could describe as predatory. His eyes were dark, slitted and his mouth was set in a firm line. They stood together like that for a few tense moments.

"How was the movie?" Daryl asked in a soft, low voice. His tone contrasted so much with the burning gaze he had captured her with. She couldn't seem to find her voice, she felt like she had that dish towel stuffed in her mouth. The muscles in his jaw twitched visibly and his fingers at her waist fluttered, pressing her into him a little further. Carol felt tears sting her eyes. She couldn't find the words to tell Daryl about what happened with Rick last night. She had convinced herself for so long that Daryl didn't desire her as a woman, didn't think of her in that way. In that very moment in his arms she realized how she might have been simply blind. She had hardened herself to the thought of a chance with the brash redneck because she had been petrified of rejection. She had valued her friendship with him above anything else and had grieved for a love she thought would never be. She remembered the first night after he had left with his brother. Carol had sat in her cell, quietly sobbing. She heard the tip tapping of Hershel's crutches as he approached her. He sat in a chair across from her and laid a gentle hand on her own.

"How pathetic is it to wake up one day and realize you're the only one in your own love story?" she cried, "All this time I thought there was something, that he felt something. I deluded myself into thinking that because he looked so hard for my girl, saved me after the farm, found me in the tombs, that it meant he cared for me a little more than anyone else. I'm such a fool." She angrily wiped the tears that dripped down her face. "He only did it because that is the kind of man Daryl Dixon is. A good man, the best kind of man. A man of honor." She couldn't bear to look at Hershel. His face was so kind and sympathetic, she wanted to chuck him out on his good leg. She didn't want sympathy, she want to curl up and wallow in her sorrow. Hershel stroked her hand, shushing her.

"That boy is one of the best men I have ever known. I also know it must be killing him to walk away from us, from you. I may be an old man with one leg, but I still have my eyes, young lady. That boy cares for you deeply, I'm pretty sure he loves you. Even if he never comes back, you need to know that you weren't the only one that saw something." Hershel took a deep breath and continued, "But you can't fall apart. He would pitch a good Dixon fit if he saw you like this. You have all of us and we are all family. You won't ever be alone." Hershel looked at her meaningfully, patted her hand and left the cell. When Daryl came back right after that, Carol was so relieved and happy, but she refused to have any hope beyond that. It was that day she decided to let go of what her heart had so desperately wanted.

Carol shook her head as she brought herself out of those vivid memories. Then she remembered where she was and who she was pressing against. It was also evident to her that Daryl was responding to their intimate touch. She flushed and shifted so her lower half was no longer touching his. He would not release his grip on her waist though. "Daryl, I need to tell you something." Carol's voice sounded scratchy, like it hadn't been used in years. "Once I finish up here can we meet somewhere where we can talk… alone?" It was hard to look at him, she felt like her skin was on fire and her face was the color of a tomato.

"I have watch tonight, the mids. I took it alone. Tyreese said it was Karen's birthday, wanted to take off for her. Four hours is plenty of time to talk alone." Daryl smirked at her and squeezed her waist once before letting her go, stepping around her. "Tyreese found a bottle of some god awful girly wine as a thank you. Mosquito?"

Carol snorted, "Moscato. That stuff is not girly, it's delicious. Sounds perfect. I'll see you tonight. I promised Lizzie and Mika we would have an extra long story time today since they found out you brought back those Harry Potter books. You are officially a rock star." She handed him a bottle of water to wash down his breakfast.

Daryl began walking backwards away from her. "Alright woman, see you tonight. Bring some cups unless you want to drink straight out of the bottle and we'd have to swap spit." Daryl said it almost gleefully as he turned and started to jog out of sight.

Carol could not begin to formulate a response to him before Daryl was long gone. She stood there, mutely, in the kitchen, her thoughts going a million miles an hour. On one hand she had an almost unspeakable desire to spend hours alone, in the middle of the night, with the man who had haunted her dreams for so long. On the other hand, she had grieved for the loss of that unrequited love and was feeling a wholly different kind of desire building with Rick. She was terrified at the thought of telling Daryl about kissing Rick in her cell last night. She knew now that there was a very distinct possibility she may hurt the man she cares so deeply for by telling him about her budding romance (that's the only way she could describe it) with his best friend. No matter what, she would have to prepare herself for whatever may come tonight and the changes it may bring.