OKAY. I know I promised that things would heat up after chapter three. BUT. Please bear with me. This chapter is pretty much just a floofy filler, but I promise it sets up future things. I have another chapter almost completed that I'll probably have up later today or tomorrow to make up for this one. Also, this is my first attempt at writing from Carol's perspective and I'm curious to hear what you guys think of it. Reviews are life and I love all of you who follow/favourited this. Thanks for sticking with me so far!

The rest of the day was a blur for Carol. She completed her tasks in her usual fashion, but her mind was constantly returning to the previous evening spent with Daryl in the guard tower. The way his lips and hands and body had responded so gently to hers, the way he had allowed her to take such a large chunk out of the walls he surrounded himself with, the tenderness of his touch running smoothly over her shoulder when he thought she had still been asleep in the morning filled her senses. She had gathered the children for their daily lessons, which she usually loved, but that day she was distracted and unfocused. She tried to shake herself out of her funk many times, feeling like a stupid schoolgirl, but she couldn't erase his musky scent from her memory, the sound of his beating heart as he slept reverberating through her mind all day. He and Rick had gone to investigate a small camp of people nearby, and she found herself missing him so badly she was embarrassed by it.

When she had asked him earlier if she would see him later that night, she had tried to hide her apprehension. Carol was afraid he would push her away, second guess himself, and close her off like he usually did when things got too personal. Frankly, she was surprised by his positive reaction and allowed herself to feel hopeful for the first time in as long as she could remember.

"Carol?"

Carol's drifted her eyes closed as she recalled the brutal scars that spanned his back, hoping that one day he would let her in enough tell her the story of each and every one.

"Carol! What are you doing?"

Carol's eyes flew open and she was facing a red-faced Maggie, who had gripped her hands in the sink. Carol looked down and realized she had just peeled a potato almost entirely away.

"What the hell is up with you today?" Maggie asked, equal parts concerned and annoyed.

Carol looked incredulously at the mess of potato peelings in the sink. "Sorry. I don't know," she said, but Maggie just eyed her suspiciously, and Carol had the uncomfortable notion that Maggie knew more than she was letting on.

"Uh huh," Maggie said. "Maybe you need to get more sleep," and the knowing tone in her voice turned Carol's cheeks pink. She ignored the implication and reached to tossed the sad potato shavings in a slop bucket.

"I'll clean this up and start getting the dishes ready," Carol said, moving swiftly away to finish setting up for dinner, wishing to be alone with her thoughts. After a few minutes of readying the cafeteria area, she heard the distinct low hum of Daryl's motorcycle, and she breathed out a sigh of relief she hadn't realized she had been holding all day. She heard a faint commotion from outside and figured they must have brought some new people to the prison.

When people started to trickle in for dinner as they always did like clockwork, Carol's head flew up each time the door opened. To her disappointment, she didn't see Daryl come through the door at all and finally resigned herself to eating a quick meal on the counter before setting to work cleaning up. She hadn't seen Rick either and guessed they were talking with the new arrivals. Having Daryl back at the prison caused a strange bubble of nervousness to rise within her, and she didn't know how to handle it. What if he had also been thinking of the previous night, and decided that it was all a mistake? What if he was purposefully avoiding her? Carol still didn't know what she wanted or expected out of what had happened the night before, but she just wanted to see him that evening even if all they did was sit in silence. Her heart began to sink as the idea that she was never going to be good enough for anyone, ingrained into her by Ed, plucked at the corners of her mind. Carol was getting better at shutting the memory of Ed out, though the wounds ran too deep to fully escape. Dejectedly, Carol said goodnight to Maggie and decided to go to bed early. If Daryl wanted to see her, he would come to her.

Carol took a quick shower and returned to her room, pulling on a light pair of pajama pants and her usual tank top. She heard low voices coming from beyond the cell block but did not feel like joining the others. Still, her mind was racing too much to relax enough to sleep. She lit the candle by her bed and pulled one of the paperbacks Daryl had brought her from the shelf, choosing The Great Gatsby over the other fluffy romance novel. She was incredulous that she had allowed herself to become so despondent over one single night and wanted desperately to lose herself in a story instead.

She had just cracked the spine of the book when a heavy knock at her doorframe caused her to jump.

"Come in," she called out, heart jumping as she recognized Daryl's silhouette outlined on the sheet that hung over her door.

He pulled the sheet back but didn't step in, looking as apprehensive as she felt. He said nothing, just stared at the ground by her bed.

"Hey," he said finally.

"Hey," she said, cracking a smile. As nervous as she was to address the previous night, she couldn't hide that she was happy to see him. "You can come in, if you want."

Daryl chewed the rough skin around his thumbnail as he stepped into her room. He was nervous. He wasn't angry, he wasn't annoyed, he didn't look like he was about to tell her that it had all meant nothing, which afforded her a little relief. Carol scooted her knees up on the bed and patted the mattress beside her, which he flopped onto. They had sat like that countless times before, unwinding in each other's company after a hard day, but this was different. Carol tentatively nudged him.

"How are the new people?"

Daryl shrugged. "Fuckin' useless, if ya ask me," he said. "Dunno why Rick keeps bringing people in who can't do shit. More mouths to feed." He looked up at her and returned her nudge. "How're you?"

Carol steadied herself. She had to address the elephant in the room. "Sore," she admitted, toying with her neck. "That tower deck wasn't the most comfortable thing to sleep on."

Rather than stiffen, shut down, or leave as she feared he would, Daryl sat up straighter and gently pushed on her shoulder, turning her so her back was towards him. She shuddered at his touch, her anticipation all day hadn't measured to how good it felt to really have him there next to her, filling her room with his scent and the quiet sound of his breathing as he ran his fingers over the nape of her neck. She held her breath as he began to deftly work the knots around her neck and shoulders, exhaling audibly every now and then when he moved his thumbs to a different spot. Her mind flickered to when he had last rubbed her shoulders when they had first arrived, and she had only half-jokingly propositioned him. She smiled slightly as his hands worked lower, releasing knot after knot of pent up tension. When he had finished all the way down her back he moved his hands back up to trace her neck and shoulders, before finally resting his hands on the sides of her arms. She leaned back as he leaned in and placed his chin on her shoulder.

"Missed you today," he murmured beside her ear, and Carol was only vaguely embarrassed by the goosebumps the sound of his voice caused on her exposed skin. She twisted around to face him and toyed with the hair that was beginning to grow past his ears.

"I think Maggie knows something. She was acting strange around me," Carol said, omitting that she had also been acting odd all day.

"Pfft," Daryl snorted. "Yeah, Glenn saw me come in right after you. Was bein' a smart ass about it too."

Carol sighed and smiled. "I mean, it's not like we…" she began, but trailed off.

Daryl's face reddened slightly and he broke her gaze. "Yeah," he said awkwardly.

Carol leaned back against the wall and tried to think of some way to change the subject. They had acknowledged it, it was out in the open, and they seemed to be okay, but she didn't want to dwell on it too much in case his mind changed.

Daryl beat her to it. He nodded toward the book she had still in her lap and said, "Didn't mean t' interrupt your reading."

"Oh," she said, toying with the book. "You weren't."

"Any good?" he asked indicating toward it.

Carol flipped through the pages absently as she replied, "I hadn't started reading it yet. But I've read it before, and yeah, I think it's pretty good." She saw the corners of his mouth twitch and knew he was proud of bringing her something she liked.

"Will ya read t' me?" he asked suddenly.

Carol frowned for a moment, unsure if she had heard him correctly. The dirty, rugged, weather-worn hunter in front of her wanted to be read to?

"Really?" she asked, more condescendingly than she'd intended.

Daryl's eyes narrowed. "I like stories, alright? Sue me."

Carol was instantly ashamed of her quick judgment. "Sorry," she said quietly, drawing him close to press a quick kiss to his cheek, the first they had shared since that morning. "Of course I'll read to you."

Daryl looked like he was still on edge, but then the fight went out of him and he leaned into her until his head was resting in her lap. Carol pulled her quilt up over him and her heart melted at how adorable he looked, almost like a little boy about to be tucked into bed and read a bedtime story. However, the memory of him running his lips along her jaw that burst into her mind reminded her that he was anything but. She opened the book and exaggeratedly cleared her throat, which earned her a smile.

"In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since." she began, noticing his eyes fluttering closed as she settled her free hand in his hair. "'Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,' he told me, 'just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.'" Carol absently stroked through his hair as she continued, gently grasping and releasing in time with the dialogue. After a while, she thought he had fallen asleep and paused.

"Keep goin'," Daryl murmured, turning his head into her stomach. Carol moved her hand to trace over his ear and neck as she finished the page she was on.

"When I looked more for Gatsby he had vanished, and I was alone again in the unquiet darkness," she said and closed the book.

"I ain't asleep, woman," Daryl said, mild irritation in his voice.

"That's the end of the first chapter," Carol responded, still tracing over his goosebumped skin.

"So?" he muttered, squinting up at her, "There's a chapter two, ain't there?"

One corner of Carol's mouth turned up slightly, an idea coming to her mind.

"Chapter two is for tomorrow," she said slyly. "One chapter a day. That way, when you're outside the walls you'll know you have to make it back safe so you can find out what happens next."

You'll know you have to make it back safe so you can find out what happens next. Carol's words echoed pleasantly through Daryl's mind, warming him just as much as the heat from her lap. He had been nervous to return to the prison that night and face her, afraid that she might have regrets about the night before. She had said she wanted to see him earlier in the morning, but there had been enough hours in-between that she could easily have changed her mind. Instead, however, he was relieved to find that she seemed just as glad to see him as he was to see her and that she apparently wanted to keep seeing him. He buried his face into her stomach as she kept reassuringly stroking his hair, grateful that the night on the guard tower hadn't negatively affected them. Her hands found his collar and he shivered as she traced the bare skin just below the nape of his neck. She ran her hands over the light scard there, but she seemed distracted. Daryl glanced up and noticed that her brow was slightly furrowed.

"What is it?" he asked.

Carol hesitated for a moment before responding carefully, "I want to show you something."

Daryl sat up slightly, leaning on his elbows as he considered her curiously. She seemed apprehensive, and he met her burning eyes with an encouraging nod. Carol sat up straight and Daryl's breath hitched as she grasped the hem of her tank top and pulled it off in one fluid motion. Daryl's mind raced, unsure of what she was doing before he registered the little marks that dotted her torso and wrapped around her sides, otherwise invisible when covered with a shirt. His throat swelled and he found himself unable to speak as he took in the awful evidence of Ed's abuse, so disturbed by the marks he left that he hardly noticed that she was wearing nothing but a thin bra and pajama pants. She had no scars that matched the ferocity of his, but hers were so numerous and deliberate that his hands shook as he lightly brushed them with his fingertips. They looked to be mostly cigarette burns, though the occasional unidentifiable slash or dent was interspersed throughout.

Carol closed her eyes at his touch, and with a low voice, she said, "I just… I wanted you to know that you're not alone."

"Carol…" he breathed, bringing his head down to brush his lips over the entirety of her stomach, as she had with him the night before. "If that sonofabitch wasn't already dead I'd kill him myself," he growled into her soft flesh.

Carol guided his head up to level with hers and she said, "He's gone. Dead. I'm not going to let him hurt me anymore. These marks remind me where I came from, and that I can't ever go back to being that person. I've made peace, and I want you to know that you can too."

Daryl chewed his lip and swept his eyes over her determined face. Carol was the strongest woman he had ever known, bar none, and her unbelievable resilience surprised him on an almost daily basis. She remained motionless, looking at him with her clear blue eyes that always seemed to bore directly into his soul. He shifted around and lightly guided her down to the bed until he was wrapped protectively around her on his side and she was curled into a ball facing him. He felt heat rush to his midsection as he finally allowed himself to take the sight of her exposed torso in, though he silently willed it to go away so as to not betray his desire.

"Carol…" he began again in a low, serious tone, this time drawing her closer. "You… you know I would never hurt ya, right?"

Carol nodded silently against his chest, which emboldened Daryl to finish what was on his mind.

"'Cause I… I like what happened… before. Yesterday," he took a deep breath and continued, "And I'd like if it happened again. But I ain't never, never gonna make you do somethin' ya don't wanna do, okay? I know I ain't good with feelin's n' stuff, but I ain't ever gonna be like that. I only wanna go as fast as you do."

Carol lifted her head to meet his eyes and he saw anxiety melt from her face as she broke into a genuine smile. She nestled back into the crook of his neck and pressed her soft lips to his skin before saying quietly, "I know. You're a good man, Daryl Dixon."

Daryl's chest swelled emotion that he couldn't put into words and he firmly kissed her crown, hoping to convey just how much he meant what he said. The way that his group, especially her, genuinely trusted and valued him was something he wasn't at all used to but found that he liked. Here, with Carol snuggled into his chest, this was his home.

They lay there in simple quiet for what seemed like minutes, thought it could have been hours, just breathing each other in. They had never had to say much, always possessing the uncanny ability to communicate their wants, needs, and fears to each other in comfortable silence.

"DARYL!" Rick's voice came suddenly thundering through the cell block, apparently not concerned if he awoke anyone who might have turned in early. "Need you here!"

Daryl muttered a string of expletives as Carol sighed and burrowed closer momentarily before allowing him to sit up. "Fuckin' pigs probably got loose again or some stupid bullshit," he growled, pulling his boots on angrily.

He rose from the bed and grabbed his crossbow, but before he could turn to leave she reached out to grip his hand. He turned and his chest twisted with emotion at how peaceful and inviting she looked on the bed, thinking that if Rick had pulled him away for some trivial thing that could have waited he would run him down with his motorcycle. Carol pulled gently on his arm until he was leaned over her on the bed, and she strained her neck up to give him a light kiss. Daryl temporarily forgot his annoyance with Rick as she smiled slightly into his mouth, before leaning back again.

"Night," she hummed softly. "Chapter two tomorrow."

"Night," he returned, giving her cheek a light touch before blowing out her candle and making his reluctant exit.