Thank you very much for reading...I hope you enjoy! oxox

At first they were just two people who loved each other. Two people who had understood each other in a way no one else had. Understood their struggles, their fears, their emotional hurdles, and held adeep respect for one another that was more authentic and untouchable than any type of love they had ever felt before in their lives.

At first they'd enjoyed each other's company for what it was. Just being together, sitting at that diner on the edge of town and talking until they started serving breakfast again.

He told her about how he grew up terrified, day in and day out. He told her he'd been wasting his entire life living in Merle's shadow, working long, hard hours in order to save enough money to pay his brother's bail time and time again. That this time he'd just decided maybe he wouldn't pay the bail. Maybe he'd finally just live his own life, if only for a little while. And he told her that he'd discovered he liked his own life just fine.

She told him that she grew up with parents who loved her and gave her everything she could have ever needed – like picnics in the summertime and homemade cinnamon buns and bacon every Christmas morning. She'd told him about how she'd lost herself completely after they died. Blamed herself for their death since it was her they were driving to visit that weekend. How she met a man who took advantage of her grief and vulnerability and loneliness. She told him how she'd let that man take her life away from her, making her drop out of school. How she had worked hard to get herself back when she'd finally realized it years later, after it was much too late to save the baby she'd once carried.

They hadn't kissed until three months after they started seeing each other. Hadn't even realize they'd even been dating, really, until one early morning Daryl had walked her to her door and awkwardly told her he'd thought so much about kissing her and wasn't sure why. Told her the thought kept him up at night, sometimes, and that he always looked forward to the days she'd come for her keys.

Sometimes I think about what it would be like to kiss you.

The words made her heart sing, because even though she liked him so much, even though she couldn't really believe that a man could be so beautiful, she'd never entertained the idea of getting closer. Never expected him to think those types of thoughts about her.

She'd leaned over and kissed him, right on the mouth, before she could talk herself out of it. Placed her hand on his cheek as they stood at her door in the pre-dawn darkness and leaned in swiftly. It was so fast that he didn't even have a chance to reciprocate.

He'd blushed, looking at her with complete and utter disbelief as she stared wide-eyed back at him, waiting for his reaction.

She hadn't expected him to grab her face then with both his hands and kiss her back hard and fast, his tongue moving eagerly in her mouth like she was the last drop of water in the middle of a desert, but she didn't complain.

He was a horrible kisser, and she loved every second of it.

He'd pulled away after a minute or two - or ten, she would never be sure how much time had passed - but only just enough to look into her eyes as their noses bumped together. He kept his hands on her face and swept his gaze over her parted lips, hooded eyes, and rosy cheeks. They were both breathing hard, each knowing exactly what they wanted to transpire next but without a clue on how to make it happen.

So he'd leaned in again and claimed her mouth with his in another hungry kiss, which she eagerly accepted.

She had thought him handsome from the very first moment she'd seen him, in an understated way. He clearly hadn't a clue about the depth of his eyes or the way the color of his hair made them stand out even more. He dressed himself simply to not be naked. Kept his hair on the shorter side so that it wouldn't get in his way as he worked. But the way he talked and moved and just existed told her that he had no idea how lovely he really was.

Carol had never realize it could be more, with him. He was just someone she enjoyed being with and looking at. Someone who made her feel good, for whatever reason, with his kind demeanor and gentle teasing and stunning blue eyes that held so much inside them that she found it hard to look away.

And while they kissed, she rummaged through her purse for her keys, opened the door, and stumbled inside as she dragged him along with her. He kicked the door shut loudly and she pressed him clumsily right up against it, grasping with busy fingers at his cheeks, his neck, his hair. She was grateful for the dark as he pulled awkwardly on her clothes, yanking her shirt over her head before she did the same to him.

But then she'd stopped kissing him, painfully aware of her nakedness, and kept her body close enough to his that he wouldn't be able to see much if he'd even attempted to look down. For the time being, she was glad that all she could see in the darkness were his ravening eyes looking right into hers.

So she took his hand abruptly and pulled him quickly through the apartment and into her bedroom. He pawed inelegantly at the button of her jeans as they stoodin the dark at the foot of the bed, and his shaking hands kept him from making any progress. So she took over then, and he focused on ridding himself of his own pants. They climbed gracelessly onto the bed and he leaned in for another kiss, pushing her down with a gentle ineptitude and hovering over her.

He squeezed her breasts with all the finesse of a fifteen-year-old boy, eager and unaware and excited for more. He fumbled with her bra until she eventually just took it off herself, and stood brusquely to take off his underwear before kneeling beside her once again and pulling her panties off with no polish at all.

Her heart pounded furiously as he positioned himself on top of of her and she opened her legs to accommodate him. At the very moment the tip of him touched her opening and she sucked in an excited breath, he stopped.

"Wait," he muttered hastily. "We need-"

"No. I can't-"

"Right."

They'd been over this, he knew that. But in the rush of emotions and excitement and feeling, he'd forgotten it all. He'd forgotten everything about his life except what was happening in that moment, because everything about her skin and her warmth and her being just consumed him like a tidal wave.

But he looked at her for one more brief moment, his eyes watching hers, his stuttering breaths fanning her face. "Ready?" he whispered.

She nodded and breathed the only word she could manage. "Yeah."

His eyes stayed locked on hers as he pushed inside her, and watched with awe as her mouth fell open and her eyes fluttered shut. He stayed still for an instant once he was all the way in, the two of them breathing heavily and clinging onto one another ferociously.

And then he started moving. It was rough and shaky and out of cadence, and over entirely too quickly. She didn't come, but she didn't care. Because somehow, she was utterly and wholly certain that she'd never had better sex in her entire life. He'd collapsed on top of her in a sweaty, damp heap, and she welcomed his crushing weight as he trailed sloppy kisses over her shoulder and up her neck.

The bluish light of the early morning was creeping its way in through her blinds as she ran her fingers lightly through his hair while they caught their breath, and all the while she mentally turned over all the ways she could ask him to stay.

Don't go.

Do you want to stay over?

You should stay.

It would be fine if maybe you didn't want to leave just yet…

But then it just happened, before she had even fully decided she would go for it. "Daryl?" she whispered.

He lifted his head immediately, looking into her eyes with trepidation, preparing himself for the blow. Preparing himself for the words he'd been pretending she'd never say. Preparing himself to get up and leave without looking like a kicked puppy.

She swallowed.

"Will you stay?"

For a moment he said nothing, and vaguely registered the slight shake in her hands as they rested on his shoulder blades. The shock of her words had him frozen completely, and he'd contemplated asking her to repeat herself because he'd started to believe he heard her wrong.

"Uh," he began.

"You don't have to," she said, a forced smile gracing her lips as her eyes flickered away from him.

But she'd barely gotten the words out before he said, "I want to. I will."

She couldn't hide the surprise in her eyes when she looked back at him.

"I'd like that," he finished.

This time she smiled for real, and they shifted awkwardly as she pulled up the covers. He elbowed her in the mouth as he raised his arm to wrap it around her, and they snickered uncomfortably as she finally settled into his side for the customary post-coital cuddle.

He'd only done it because that's what he thought you did after you had sex with someone you cared about. He'd seen it in movies and figured it was what normal people did, when you wanted the woman to still like you afterwards.

He'd never done it before. Not once. The most contact he'd ever had with a woman after fucking was handing her a tissue to wipe herself up, if she asked.

But in that very instant, when her head laid down on his chest and the warm length of her pressed against his side, he had felt everything he'd ever been missing in his life come crashing down around him.

The sensation was one he'd never felt and never knew he'd even been longing for. The softest of sighs escaped her lips when she settled herself in and had made him feel like some sort of iron-made superhero. Some sort of man who had unlocked some brand new power he never knew he held all this time.

A whole new reason for being. A whole new level of caring and wanting and feeling.

There was no way his father or brother had ever felt like this, ever had a woman curled into their side this way. Because if they had, he was sure they would have changed everything they'd ever felt about a woman. About women at all.

But he knew that for him, it was Carol. It was all about her. Because he'd never even had this type of desire before her. He'd never in all his thirty-one years felt any type of real need for a woman beyond a warm place to sink his dick to break the routine of his own hand.

This one - Carol - had changed him in so many ways she would never begin to understand. He'd barely understood it himself. He'd never known – before Carol – that he could ever be more than what he always was, or more than people ever thought him to be.

His body tingled in pleasure at this new kind of contact. He had to get back here – they had to get back here.

All he could do was hope that she wanted to.

She sighed in overwhelming happiness at how perfectly she fit there, how good his skin felt beneath her cheek. And he stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes as his hand flitted softly on its own accord over her arm.

He wasn't sure if he was doing it right, or if he should have been doing it at all. But then the sound of her even breathing and the slight heaviness of her head on his shoulder told him it was more than right. Nothing had ever felt this good. Not one thing, not ever.

And that had him nervous, had him doubting. But he couldn't fight the good, so he simply embraced it. He didn't know what it was, really, but he knew that he liked it, and that he couldn't give this up. If she would have him, he would be there.

Carol's mind was frenzied that morning, flashing between the blissful memories of their early days and the mess that Merle had blown into their lives. She was reeling; powerless to stop the tsunami of thoughts that were racing through her mind as she tried to keep her head straight at work that Monday morning.

She was having trouble reconciling the Daryl she knew with the one Merle had told her about.

She had only just began to understand how different a man Daryl was before she'd known him. She realized it now, as she suddenly remembered the the way Merle had been surprised that Daryl had gone to work so early. Everything he'd ever said about his brother was a mystery to her.

Never used to get outta here before noon.

That wasn't Daryl. It wasn't her Daryl. And to be perfectly honest, she couldn't imagine any version of Daryl being unable to drag himself out the door to be at work before noon. He was one of the most responsible men she'd ever met. He took care of his home. He worked hard and saved his money. And though his place hadn't been the tidiest before she'd moved in with him, it was certainly clean. Clean by a bachelor's standards, but clean nonetheless.

"Carol? Sweetie?"

She broke out of her reverie as she stared blankly at the pen in her hand, looking up suddenly to see Lori and Carl Grimes standing at the sign-in desk in front of her.

"Oh, my. I'm sorry," Carol said with a laugh. "I was daydreaming there for a minute."

"Been drifting in and out of it all morning," Mrs. Greene chimed in from beside them as Carol lifted herself slightly off her seat to peer over the elevated surface and say hello to Carl.

"Get that cavity filled?" Carol asked him with a smile.

He nodded and attempted to smile, though he was having a hard time adjusting to the numbness on one side of his mouth.

Lori placed a hand atop her son's head. "Looks like I'll have to prep all the food ahead of time the next time I leave you with your father," she joked with a raised eyebrow. "You get your sweet tooth from your daddy, I think."

"I may or may not have seen them at the Shake Shack on Saturday afternoon," Carol chimed in, winking at Carl who attempted another smile.

Saturday.

She hadn't seen Merle since that night by the coffee table, and she'd been fighting with herself ever since on whether or not to tell Daryl about it. He'll kill him.

"Alright, sweet boy, run along to your class now, I'll get you signed in," Lori told her son. With a quick kiss atop his head, he ran off down the hall in the direction of his classroom.

"Did I see little miss Judith in that bucket seat?" Carol asked as she rounded the elevated desktop.

She made quick work of unbuckling the straps and lifting the baby gently into her arms while Lori filled in the sign-in sheet.

"Freshly bathed last night, just for you," Lori joked as Carol took a deep sniff of the tiny head.

"Mmmm…just perfect," she cooed, tickling her little belly and making the girl smile.

Lori eyed her for a moment, her smile wavering only slightly and she lowered her voice before speaking again. "How's everything going?" she asked her friend knowingly.

Though the two had met through Carl's attendance at the school, they had become friendly almost instantly and made time to chat whenever they saw one another.

"Oh," Carol droned. "You know…"

"How's Merle been?" Lori had known enough about Merle from her husband. Enough to have been extremely put off when she found out that Carol had been seeing his brother. Rick's insistence that Daryl and Merle were akin to apples and monkey wrenches had set her mind at ease.

"He definitely, um…lives up to his reputation," Carol replied, though it came out like a question.

"You be careful in that house, you hear? I don't trust that man," Lori chided gently.

Carol had been nodding before she'd even finished her sentence. "Don't worry about me, Daryl does enough of that for all three of us."

I don't trust Merle, either.

Carol couldn't help her mind from drifting constantly back to the way Daryl reacted when she'd told him about that boy. If he'd known that Merle had laid a hand on her the way that he had, if he'd known Merle had touched her there…

When Merle wasn't home that Sunday afternoon, Carol had told Daryl about Pete, in hopes that it would lead to a conversation about the pill, and the other thing. She'd been surprised to hear Daryl tell her bitterly that he had already known of the boy, and how he told her the kid's name was actually Randall.

That had set him off, and he flew into a fit of rage that she wasn't quite sure how to handle.

"I'm kicking him out, Carol. I'm fuckin' done." He was already raising his voice at her, and she knew this argument wouldn't be ending well.

"Fine, Daryl. Kick him out. And then what?" she challenged.

He stilled from his pacing for a moment, though his breath was still heavy.

"Will he stay away, Daryl? Will he just go?"

No.

"And what about you?" she pressed. "Will you be okay? Really and truly, Daryl. Will you be okay?"

No.

He began pacing once again, his hands balled into fists at his side, and it was all he could do to keep from punching through the drywall.

He rounded on her then, approaching her quickly enough and with such malice in his features that she'd actually taken a wide-eyed step backwards.

"You should never have let him in here," he shouted, pointing a finger accusingly in her face.

And that was evidently her last straw. She'd blamed herself for this mess right from the moment she'd invited him inside to wait for his brother, and hearing it now coming out of Daryl's mouth with that tone had crushed her. It was all she could take. There wasn't a thing she could do anymore to keep her tears away, and before she knew it her lip was quivering and she let out a jarring sob.

"What was I supposed to do? I didn't know who he was before I told him he had the right house. How could I turn him away? He was so..."

"Angry," Daryl finished loudly, remembering the way Carol had described the awkward meeting. "Yeah, I fuckin' get it."

"I'm sorry, Daryl," she cried. "I'm so sorry."

"Too fuckin' late for sorries now," he muttered, turning away from her to continue his agitated pacing.

Carol's chest heaved as she worked to still her tears. She walked hastily to Daryl, who'd made his way into the living room, and placed herself directly inhis path. He stilled suddenly, but couldn't bring himself to look at her face.

"Daryl," she whispered fiercely, placing her hands on his face in an attempt to make him look at her.

But he fought against her hands and kept his eyes cast downward.

Carol bit back the hurt. Swallowing thickly and ignoring her tear-soaked face, she pressed on. "Look what he's doing to us. This isn't us, Daryl. This isn't us."

She tried bring his face up again but still he held firm.

"We can't let him do this to us," she said, surprising herself with the shake in her voice.

He couldn't deal with her right then. He couldn't bring himself to look into her petrified eyes and see the hurt there. Because it wasn't her fault that any of this was happening, it was his. It was all his fault for being a coward his entire life and for bringing her into it. She didn't deserve to be crying over Merle Dixon right now. Over him. She didn't deserve any of it.

So when she leaned forward and tried to press a kiss to his mouth, he jerked his head away.

And she stood there, shell shocked as she watched him slip his boots on and skip out on tying them in favour of a quicker getaway. Watched him grab his jacket and walk out the door before he'd even slipped it on.

So she couldn't tell him, not at that moment. He would kill Merle if he knew about it all, and he may never speak to her again. She knew then that telling him the whole of it would have done more harm than good.

And then she realized that she'd been making a habit of lying by omission since Merle came into her life, and that realization had only served to make her angrier. He was wedging himself in between them and doing his very best to splinter everything they had along the way, whether it was intentional or not.

She stood still in the middle of the living room and waited for Daryl to open up the door again. And after long minutes of waiting in the quiet, willing it to swing open on its hinges, she began to cry.

Judith squealed playfully and grabbed a fistful of Carol's hair in an attempt to bring it to her mouth. Lori smiled warmly at her friend and moved to run her fingers along the back of her daughter's hand when the slight sparkle caught her attention.

"Excuse me, Carol. What is that on your finger?"

Carol glanced down at her hand as though she hadn't a clue what Lori was talking about and shrugged. "Oh, that? Why, that would be my engagement ring, I suppose," she said as she feigned a thicker accent than the one she had.

"Daryl Dixon?" Lori asked in disbelief, unable to keep the smile from spreading across her face. Carol nodded, her glee evident in her eyes and the way her upturned lips.

Lori enveloped her friend in a hug with her daughter riding contentedly on Carol's hip between them. She pulled back just enough to look into Carol's eyes. "I hope he makes you happy," she said kindly, with the utmost sincerity in your eyes.

"He already does," Carol replied cheekily.

Carol had always loved when Lori came by the school, not having had much by way of girlfriends in the later part of her life. It was refreshing, in a way, to allow herself the luxury of giggling freely about her man. To allow herself to be excited with someone.

"Did you know about this?" Lori asked Mrs. Greene teasingly as she pulled away from Carol, leaning onto the sign-in desk and resting her chin in her hand. Carol turned her attention back to Judy, tickling the girl's legs softly with her fingertips.

"I did, indeed," Josephine replied with a grin. "And I couldn't be happier for our girl. Or Daryl, for that matter. That boy has certainly hit the jackpot."

Carol blushed at the compliment as Lori put Judith back into her carseat. The office door opened then, and the three women turned towards the familiar face.

"Dr. Greene," Lori bellowed at the beloved town veterinarian, standing up and collecting the bucket seat into the crook of her elbow.

"Mrs. Grimes," he replied, tipping his head towards her and turning to Carol next. "Ms. Sinclair."

Just as Carol opened her mouth to reply, Lori intercepted coyly. "Soon to be Mrs. Dixon."

Hershel Greene's face turned quickly to one of surprise as Lori slipped out the door, and he turned towards Carol and approached where she stood leaning on the desk. He lifted her left hand delicately, noticing the beautifully unique ring there, and kissed her hand softly.

"Congratulations," he crooned. She smiled and whispered her thanks as Hershel turned back toward his wife, placing a brown paper bag atop the sign-in desk. "That is one lucky man, that Daryl Dixon."

"That's exactly what I said," Josephine replied, leaning over the desk to give her husband a short peck on the mouth. Carol looked on at the sweet display, having always admired the marriage they'd shared for so many years.

"You forgot your lunch in the truck again," he muttered as he pulled away. She'd been known to "forget" her lunch a time or two, causing her husband to drop it off at the school between patients.

"Thank you, darlin'," Jo replied with a sweet smile on her face and a gentle hand to his cheek.

He turned to leave the office as Carol made her way back to her chair. "I'm not convinced she isn't forgetting her lunch on purpose," she chimed in as she sunk back down into her seat.

Hershel pointed at Carol, pushing the door open. "Smart girl, Carol. Smart girl."

The two women giggled like teenagers, and Carol's gaze lingered on the glass door as it slid softly shut behind him.

The door never opened. The knob didn't turn. And she hadn't a clue how long she'd stood there, staring at their closed front door.

She had mechanically made dinner to be ready for when Daryl might come home, but he didn't show. So she packed it away into the fridge without taking a bite since she had no appetite of her own.

And then she sat in their bed until it got dark out. Heard Merle come home at some point. Heard the sounds of the kitchen cabinets, the water running in the bathroom sink, some ruffling around in his room. He'd been going through his night side table, she could distinguish the sound of that squeaky little drawer.

And then he left again and she was alone.

At ten o'clock she had begun to wonder when she could call the police to report a missing person. And then she heard the front door open.

When she realized that the footsteps were not heavy or brash or angry – and with the absence of the tell-tale cabinets banging and fridge door slamming – she had known it was Daryl.

Her heart hammered in her chest as the bedroom doorknob turned and she hugged her knees close to her chest.

Daryl paused in the bedroom doorway and looked down at her, at a complete loss for words. They'd never had a fight before – never anything like that – and he hadn't a clue what was supposed to come next. He imagined it would be some sort of break up, but was unsure about the nature of it. Would it be heated with drama and door-slamming? Would it be a quiet, unspoken agreement? Who would be the one to leave?

The defeated look on his face spoke volumes, and in the brief instant that she opened her arms to him, she had obliterated every fear he had held about returning home to face her.

He promptly crawled onto the bed and across it until he was next to her, pulling her down until she was lying on her back. And then he curled himself into her, placing his head on her shoulder and squeezing her tightly as he finally let his tears flow. Her arms wrapped around him protectively, and he took a shuddering breath.

"I left you," he mumbled.

"You're back now," she whispered as she rubbed his back comfortingly.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

He paused a moment to feel the relief wash over him. He sniffled loudly before daring to utter his next words, opening himself up completely to her. Feeling more vulnerable than he'd ever felt in his entire life.

"Don't ever leave me," he whispered unsteadily.

"I won't."

And they fell asleep that way, over the covers and with their clothes on, and stayed that way til morning.