"Oh my God," Carol gasped and rushed forward to where the sound had come from. She let the crossbow fall to the ground.

Daryl was in the corner, being held up by chains that were tied around his hands, raised high above his head, his feet dragging on the ground. His left eye was swollen shut and a nasty cut across his cheek was still bleeding.

"Daryl," Carol whispered, reaching out and carefully touching his arm. He didn't respond.

"Daryl," she said, her voice louder and she took a step closer. "Come on, wake up."

She cautiously brushed back the hair from his forehead, before placing her fingertips at his jaw, drawing his face up slowly.

"Daryl come on, it's me," she said. A small groan escaped his lips and his right eye fluttered open.

"Hey," Carol said and it took all her self-control not to start crying. Her eyes welled up and she couldn't help the smile that was spreading across her face.

Daryl's gaze was unfocused and Carol wasn't sure he was lucid enough to understand what was going on.

"Daryl," she said, taking his face into her hands, her fingers just brushing his skin, for fear of agitating his wounds. "It's me, Carol. I'm here with Rick and Michonne. We're gonna get you out of here."

Daryl choked and coughed violently, blood running out of the corner of his mouth. Carol reached up and brushed it away, wiping her bloody fingers on her shirt.

"It's gonna be okay," she whispered. Her fingers started to shake with suppressed rage as she took in the agony Daryl had suffered at the hands of this town.

"You'll be fine," she said, trying to concentrate on keeping him awake. "We're gonna get you out of here and Hershel will take care of you."

Daryl's head fell forward as he came close to losing consciousness again.

"No, Daryl!" Carol said insistently. She tried to hold his head up. "Stay awake, come on."

He didn't respond and Carol could feel panic rising in throat.

"Daryl!" she said loudly and slapped him hard on the uninjured side of his face. His head jerked up and his good eye opened a couple of inches, hunting around the room. It finally landed on Carol and after a few seconds she could feel him tense under her hands.

"C-carol?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"Yes," she said, relieved. "It's me. We're getting you out."

"What…you doin' here?" he choked out and grimaced as a split on his lip burst open from the movement, fresh blood running down his chin.

"Be quiet," Carol said sternly, wiping the blood away. "Talking only takes up energy and you need-"

The door flew open and Carol spun around.

"Rick!" she yelled, almost sobbing in relief. "He's here! He's alive!"

Rick stormed in, followed by Michonne, both of them looking worse for wear.

Rick took in Daryl's form, but didn't respond.

"Help me get him down," he said, reaching up. Michonne and Carol held up Daryl as Rick loosened the chains from the hook in the ceiling. Daryl was dead weight and Carol groaned as she almost lost her balance.

"I'll take him," Rick said, grabbing Daryl's arm and slinging it around his neck. Carol let go and wrenched the chains from Daryl's bleeding wrists.

"Let's get out of here," Michonne said, supporting Daryl from the other side.

"Wait," Carol said, as they were already half way across the room. She ran into the corner and bent down to pick up the crossbow she had dropped there earlier.

All of a sudden the door sprang open again and someone burst into the room. It was the man that had been hunting Carol and his eyes were glued to the three people directly in front of him, not noticing Carol in his peripheral vision. A grin spread across his face.

"Easy pickin's," he said, aiming his gun at Daryl.

Something snapped inside Carol. It was as if until now, she had tried hard just to survive. Only defend, not attack. But seeing this man wanting to kill Daryl in front of her eyes was too much.

She let out a scream of fury and hurled herself at the man. When he finally saw her coming towards him it was already too late. She crashed into him and they flew into the wall. He slumped to the ground and Carol jumped on top of him. Without thinking about it she started slamming the crossbow into the man's face over and over again. He was screaming in agony, but Carol wouldn't stop.

"Carol!" Rick yelled and Carol broke out of her trance. "We have to go now!"

Carol got to her feet. The man's face was gushing blood and she could just make out his eyes, as his chest rose and fell quickly. With utterly steady hands she raised the crossbow and aimed at his head. He opened his mouth as if to speak and Carol pulled the trigger. The crossbow seemed to buzz as it released the arrow, which whizzed through the air in the blink of an eye and lodged itself directly between the eyes of the man, who grew still immediately.

"Let's go!" Rick urged as they heaved Daryl out of the room into the next one.

Carol stood, looking at the man she had just killed for a second longer. Then she turned and hurried after the others.

"Let's hope we manage to get out of here before more of them arrive," Rick gasped, dragging the unconscious Daryl through the hallway. "Jesus, which way?"

"This way," Carol said, squeezing past Rick and leading them through several rooms until they were finally in the hallway that lead to the front door.

They were almost at the door, when Carol came to a halt.

"What is it?" Rick hissed. "Is someone coming?"

"No," Carol said. "You guys go on, I'll catch up."

"Are you crazy?" Rick asked incredulously.

"I'll be right behind you," Carol insisted. "You guys need more time anyway, I'll catch up before you guys are even at the wood house!"

Rick opened his mouth as if to speak, but seemed to decide differently.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" he asked, his eyes boring into hers. He knew what she was thinking.

"Yes," she said, nodding.

"Alright," he said and he and Michonne went outside.

Carol turned on her heels and raced back until she'd reached the door. She jumped into the room, the crossbow raised, looking for any movement. There was none. Only dead people lying on the floor. And Merle, still tied to his chair. He looked up as he heard her enter, seeing the crossbow aimed at his chest.

"You gonna shoot me now?" he asked dryly. "With my brother's crossbow? That's cold."

Carol approached him slowly.

"Anything broken?" she asked.

"What?" Merle asked, taken aback.

"Did they break any of your bones? Arms? Legs?" she asked.

"No," he said.

Carol lowered the crossbow and leaned it against the side of the chair. She withdrew her knife from her pocket and leaned over Merle.

"We found Daryl," she said. "He's alive. Barely."

Merle's face didn't move, but his eyes betrayed him. A look of relief gleamed in them.

"You swear to me you won't make any trouble," she said, "and I'll get you out."

"Yes," Merle said immediately. Carol shook her head.

"I want you to swear it," she insisted. "On your brother's life I want you to swear that you won't stab us in the back."

Merle's eyes flashed.

"I know you're a bastard," Carol said. "But you got your convictions. And I bet one of them is that if one person saves another's life, that person will owe his savior. Am I right?"

"Yes," Merle said, his voice toneless.

"So if I let you out," Carol said. "you'll owe me."

"Yes," Merle repeated, looking at Carol with an unreadable expression.

"Swear it," she said.

"I swear," Merle said. "I swear on my brother's life."

Carol nodded and began sawing through ropes around Merle's ankles.

She worked as quickly as she could and after two minutes she had Merle out of his restraints.

"Can you walk?" she asked. She couldn't help feeling nervous, having him free. After all, she had been pretty aggressive before.

Merle got to his feet shakily.

"I'm alright," he said, taking a tentative step.

"We're gonna have to hurry," Carol said.

She bent down to one of the bodies and wrenched a gun out of the holster around its waist. She passed it to Merle, who looked surprised that she was freely offering him a weapon. Carol picked up the crossbow and made for the door.

"Give me the crossbow," Merle said, following behind Carol. "I taught Daryl how to use that thing, I know how to handle it."

"You only have one hand," Carol said as they made their way through the hallway to the front door.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that even if I had two hands you wouldn't be givin' me that crossbow. Am I right?" Merle said, stumbling after Carol, still a little unsteady on his feet.

Carol didn't answer. Of course she wouldn't. She still felt a sense of responsibility for it. No way was she going to hand it over to Merle.

"We'll have to run," Carol whispered and before Merle could answer she burst into the open and dashed across the street.

She could hear Merle lumbering after her as saw lights going on inside the houses and voices growing louder.

"Come one!" she yelled and sped up.

She reached the wooden house and wrenched open the door, waiting a second for Merle to catch up with her. They rushed through the house and Carol jumped out of the partially boarded up window, Merle following quickly behind.

"Rick!" she called, looking around.

"Over there," Merle said, pointing his metal clad stump to her left. Carol could make out a flash of light and they ran towards it.

With a gush of exhilaration she recognized Maggie's car.

"Come on!" Rick yelled from the pick-up.

"Get in there!" Carol yelled towards Merle.

She dashed towards the SUV, pulling open the rear door and jumping in as the engine roared and Maggie made a U-turn, speading down the forest road, the blue pick-up following right behind them.

It took Carol a second to realized she was sitting on Daryl's feet. He was stretched out across the bench.

As the car lumbered down the uneven road, Carol scooted to the other end of the bench. She carefully lifted Daryl's head and sat down in the seat. Cautiously she lowered his head onto her lap.

Carol's heart was beating like mad, adrenaline rushing through veins, her breath ragged and shallow.

She heard a small groan and glanced down. Daryl's good eye fluttered open and he slowly craned his neck to look up at her.

"You're bleeding," he rasped, his voice a mixture of concern and reprimand, pointing to her forehead. Carol reached up to touch her temple and hissed in pain as her fingers connected with the open wound. Her fingers came away bright red and it wasn't until now that she realized that the wound must have been bleeding ever since her head had smacked against the wall. Her right shoulder and parts of her neck and shirt were covered in blood.

"It's nothing," she said, smiling reassuringly at Daryl.

"Stop bullshittin' me," Daryl muttered. Carol snorted. This was a good sign.

"You look a lot shittier than I do," she said.

Daryl snorted and closed his eyes again. He raised a shaky, slightly mangled hand and Carol took it. He clumsily threaded his fingers through hers and placed them on his chest. Carol could feel his heart beating steadily under her palm and she was sure she'd never felt anything more amazing.

"Glad you're here," Daryl sighed, before his head rolled to the side, his fingers still clutching Carol's.

I hope you fine Caryl fanatics liked it! If so, please leave a review! :)