Hello. I wasn't planning on posting this until later because I felt like there are still some kinks in the chapter that needs ironed out but it's raining and my internet is acting up and I wanted to get this out in case it went out completely. Thanks for reading, even though I know most of you are busy and don't have a whole lot of time. You guys are awesome.

Chapter Seven

She took the penlight out of her pocket as soon as she shut the bathroom door. She turned it on and sat it there on the side of the sink before she sat down on the edge of the tub. She squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could so no tears could escape and she clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sob that came unbidden.

She hated crying. She loathed how weak it made her feel but she couldn't keep it at bay anymore. She couldn't let herself feel the things she desperately wanted to feel. She had let her guard down too many times, put her trust in too many people that hadn't deserved it. She hadn't just been hurt by her past, she had been crushed by it. She had been ground into sand and it had taken her so long to begin to put herself together again, one small piece at a time. It hurt too bad to care about people. People couldn't be trusted to not take what you had to offer and throw it in your face. But she wanted so badly to trust him. The memory of the man literally haunted her and to know that he was right there in the other room seemed to be as crushing as the day she learned she'd likely never see him again.

So what if she had ran into him by chance? So what if he seemed eager to make amends? None of it mattered because he'd walked away and he'd stayed away. All she wanted to do was open the door and go to that room and... she wanted to say that she wanted to leave. Just leave the building and find her group and leave the city and never think of him again. She wanted to say that. But what she wanted even more than that was to go back into that room and cry and scream and throw the worlds biggest fit and let him know how bad things really were. Let him know that she was tired of being let down. She was so tired. Tired of feeling like she wasn't worth anything. Tired of craving something that she could never have. Peace of mind, love, acceptance and security, none of it was real but she wanted so badly to have all of it.

She wanted the pain to go away. The never ending ache that she lived with from the moment she opened her eyes until the moment she finally sought sleep. Seeing him, listening to his voice, feeling his hands on her, cleaning up her wounds, it was all too much. The pain wasn't a dull ache anymore. It was a searing hot poker shoved between her ribs, branding her heart and making her wish for things...

Making her wish for things that were simply dead.

She wanted to feel whole again but she knew she never would.

A sharp knock at the door had her standing up quickly, wiping at her face. When she tried to draw a deep breath it shuttered through her, shaking her body physcially.

"You okay?"

She closed her eyes again, his voice making the pain sharper. She had to say something or he'd never go away but if she did he would know and then he would start in with the questions like he gave a good goddamn how she was feeling, or where she had been or who she had...

"Carol?"

"Just go!" She snapped. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing tears. Not for him and not for her old home and not for the bastards that she had thought of as family. She leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling weak, her arms banding around her middle like she needed to physically hold herself together. She truly did feel like she was falling apart.

She kept telling herself that she was okay. She was just tired. And she had been through an ordeal down there. That's all this was about. She was strong and she knew it, had proved it time and time again, but at the moment she just felt so goddamn broken.

"I ain't goin' any damn where. You can open the fuckin' door or I'll open the door. Your choice. Don't matter to me either way."

She wiped at her eyes again, glared at the door until her vision blurred with fresh tears. Couldn't he understand that she didn't want him here? Couldn't he understand that she just wanted to be by herself, to sort out all these feelings that seemed to rush over her like a tidal wave? Of course not.

She jumped when the door flew open, slamming into the wall a few feet away from where she was standing. He stepped into the room but stopped suddenly when he saw her. She heard him curse under his breath and then he was staring at the floor. She tried to slip past him. She'd leave the apartment if she had to. She'd rather face a herd of walkers with nothing but a knife than stand here while he pitied her. Pitied her for letting herself get hurt over and over.

He grabbed her arm, shoved her lightly back into the middle of the room and then kicked the door shut.

"Let me out," she said, her voice cracking in the small space.

He shook his head, grabbed the pin light and then turned it off, plunging the room into darkness again. "You need to tell me what's wrong. For some people it's easier to do that when they ain't getting stared at. So it's too dark to see and I ain't here to stare at you. I just wanna know what the fuck I can do to help fix this."

"There's nothing to fix," she whispered. He was right though. It was easier to have him in here when she couldn't see him and he couldn't see her. She wondered briefly where he'd learned such a strange technique. Then she remembered that out of everyone, he was the one that was the most like her. She shoved that thought away viciously because it caused more tears to flow.

"Okay, I'll start then. I ain't going back to the prison because the only reason I was going back in the first place was for you. You ain't there no more so I ain't got no business there."

She shook her head so hard it made her dizzy and she was silent for a long time. When she did speak she only did so because she truly needed him to answer her question. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because somethin' tells me you needed to know."

"I waited for you," she snapped. "I thought that maybe you'd realize and you'd come..." She shook her head again. "I'm not doing this anymore. I'm happy to see you alive, but as soon as we can, I want you to get your brother, if he isn't dead, and I want you to leave. I don't want you here." Her words were a mirror of his own. He'd thrown them at her a long time ago.

"You never told me-"

"You knew!" She yelled, her voice shaking as badly as her hands. It had taken a lot to keep her composure in the bedroom while he cleaned her up but that shaky grip on her composure was gone. She shook her head. "You knew," she said again, her voice barely audible now. She had loved him and he had known she'd loved him and just like that, he walked away from it because it wasn't enough. It was never enough. It wouldn't ever be enough and she would die before she went through it all again.

"I knew," he agreed after a moment.

"Please leave me alone. If you ever cared about me at all, if you ever cared then just leave me alone," she would beg him if she had to.

"I can't do that."

"It's easy. Turn around and walk away, Daryl. You've had practice," she said, not even able to put any venom in her voice anymore.

"Is that really what you want?" He asked.

She opened her mouth to tell him that was exactly what she wanted him to do. Instead she tried to step past him again, reaching blindly for the doorknob. But she didn't find it. What she ended up grasping was his hand. It wasn't on purpose but that didn't matter. Before she could pull it away his grip tightened. How that small gesture could tear through her so intensely was beyond her, but it did. Like a sledge hammer crashing through her carefully constructed defenses, wrecking her ability to stay away from him.

She let him pull her closer. It was so strange that he would even bother. The man she remembered was so closed off. The man that she remembered would have yelled right back and he would have stormed away and let her have her space. Somehow her arms were around his neck and he was holding onto her so tight that she could barely breath. His forehead hit her shoulder.

She felt like she had let a half ton of burden fall from her shoulders. She'd spent a long time holding in all of that pain and lashing out at him for being one of the people to cause it made her feel lighter, even if she did know that one of the reasons she felt better was because he was right there. He was solid and alive and she had always wondered if he had been killed out there. Merle was tough but he was also arrogant and that could get a person killed.

She desperately wanted to hate him. She didn't want to trust him not to walk away again. But that was hard to do when he was actually letting his own guard down, so eager to let her know that, though too late, he really had been on his way back to the prison. And he had said that he was coming back for her. She closed her eyes and took slow even breaths, his familiar scent filling her up and with every exhale she tried to pretend that she was expelling the bitterness inside her.

Why would he try so hard if he didn't care? But if he cared, why would he leave and not come back in the first place? She wanted to keep him at a distance. She wanted to help him get to where he wanted to go and then walk away without a backwards glance. But she knew that she wouldn't and knowing that scared her more than the walkers. More than the prospect of dying out there.

The tension in the small space was thick and heavy. The moment was surreal and she wasn't sure how to pull away from him because she was right where she had always wanted to be. But it was so risky to want this. His hold on her was still tight and she could feel his heartbeat race against her own. Her mind and body were still suffering exhaustion, the few hours of sleep she had managed the night before having done nothing to make her feel very rested. That's what she needed. Things would be more clear once she wasn't running on empty.

Thunder rumbled above them and then another rumbling sound filled her ears from inside the bathroom. His stomach, pressed flat against hers, growled furiously and he snorted into her shoulder.

She managed a feeble smile. "Maybe there's food here. Whoever lived here seemed to leave in a hurry. Surely there's something salvageable."

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, the words barely audible.

She nodded and finally raised her head. "Me too." Jesus, this wasn't smart. This wasn't smart at all but her defenses were crumbling at the sincerity of his words.

"Once we get out of here, you still want me to go?" He asked, his voice rough and low, his arms loosening.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, then remembered that he couldn't see her. "Against my better judgment, no."

"I ain't goin' anywhere," he said.

"And I'm not prone to emotional breakdowns. I'm just tired." And that was the truth. Physically and emotionally, she was completely exhausted.

"Good cause I ain't used to cryin' women." He finally pulled away but she could feel the tension leaving him.

"Yeah," she sighed, shaking her head and feeling like she was ready to fall on her face. "Neither am I."