AN: So here you go…our couple has to have a make up scene (at least for this problem, right?).

Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I'm really thrilled. I can't believe there's almost 300 reviews on this fic already! I'm amazed. You're all great!

I hope you enjoy and I hope I did them justice!

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Daryl made his way back through the prison yard clutching the bundle of half wilted wild flowers. They were a sorry prize by any stretch of the imagination, but the encroaching cold weather wasn't leaving him with much to go on by way of an apology. He had wandered all around, hoping mostly to stumble upon some Cherokee Roses, but he had only come up with the sad bundle of assorted wildflowers. He wouldn't blame Carol if that, coupled with the probably pathetic apology that he had mustered up, didn't exactly move her to forgiveness.

Most everyone was gathered, it seemed, around the courtyard entertaining themselves in various ways. Daryl kept his eyes down and tried not to look at any of them. He didn't want them staring at him as he walked toward the prison, praying that somehow he didn't fuck this up.

When Daryl got outside of the cell he saw that all of his things were still there, scattered in the hallway. No one had moved them. In fact, it looked as though most of the stuff had been repeatedly trampled on.

"Can I come in?" Daryl asked, stopping outside the slit in the blanket.

"Come in," Carol's voice called.

Daryl ducked into the blanket. Carol was sitting on the bed, an open book now lying across her leg. She looked at him expectantly.

"I brought ya some flowers," he said, holding up the sad bouquet of wildflowers. He reached forward, offering them to her.

Carol sat still for a moment, and then finally she leaned up, accepting the flowers from him.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"I looked for ya some better ones, but they ain't hardly nothin' growin' right now on account a' it's getting' cold," he said.

Carol looked at the wildflowers. She looked just about as sad as the wilting blossoms did, and Daryl felt his chest tighten.

"I'm real sorry, Carol, and I know why ya mad at me," he said.

Carol looked up at him, but she didn't say anything.

"Ya mad 'cause ya thought I was abandonin' ya an' I shoulda told ya I was goin' out huntin'," Daryl said.

Something in Carol's face changed and Daryl thought it looked like she might start crying, but she didn't.

"An' now ya prob'ly mad 'cause I said ya was crazy an' can't no one understand ya," Daryl continued. He hoped that she'd give him some indication that he was getting anywhere with this because at the moment he felt like he was floundering.

"Anything else?" Carol asked. She didn't move from her position. Her voice was soft, but Daryl didn't like the sound of the question. It sounded like a question that was indicating that he hadn't said the right thing. He hadn't apologized correctly. Suddenly he felt a little like he couldn't breathe. He didn't know what to say, and Carol didn't love him anymore, and his apology and the sad batch of wildflowers weren't enough to get it back. He was suddenly desperate for anything that would make her reconsider.

"I don't want'cha ta tell me I gotta leave," Daryl said. "I know I was an ass an' ya prob'ly don't want me around, but I ain't gon' leave ya. I ain't gonna leave ya 'cause I'm mad…I ain't gonna leave ya 'cause no damn girl comes around flauntin' what the hell she's got like ya always afraid of…I ain't even gonna leave ya if ya tell me I can't stay here. I'm gonna go right out there an' I'm gonna stay in that damn hallway 'til ya let me back in or 'til I fuckin' rot out there, 'cause I ain't gon' leave."

"Are you crying, Daryl?" Carol asked suddenly.

"No I ain't fuckin' cryin'," Daryl said, wiping at his eyes.

Carol got up from the bed and slowly came over to him. He looked at her, tears were filling her eyes, and her face was drawn up like she was trying not to cry with everything she had in her. She swallowed hard.

"I don't want you to cry," she said. Daryl could hear her voice quivering. "I just want you to understand, Daryl. I want you to know that I love you and I'm afraid every time that you leave those gates that you'll never come back through them, and I don't want you leaving them angry with me for something I've done, like you were yesterday, and then I don't even know if I'll get to make it up to you. And now, Daryl, now we've got a baby on the way, and if you leave, then I'm alone in this, and I don't want to be alone in this because you decided to just run off one day."

Daryl reached out and wiped at the tears rolling down her cheek with his thumbs.

"I didn't mean ta make ya scared," he said. "I didn't leave 'cause I was mad at ya."

"Then why did you leave, Daryl? Why didn't you tell me you were going?" Carol asked. "I wouldn't have told you that you couldn't go hunting. I know you need to go hunting, I just didn't know where you were or why you left."

"I left 'cause I was scared," Daryl said finally. He expected Carol to look at him as though she were shocked, but she didn't. She just kept staring at him like she was waiting for him to go on. "I knew ya was scared about the baby 'cause Alice asked ya 'bout it gettin' born an' I didn't know how ta fix it. I ain't got no idea how ta fix most a' the stuff that scares ya."

Carol looked at him then, and almost smiled. Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. He couldn't figure out what she found so amusing right now.

"Daryl," she said softly, "I never thought you could fix those kinds of things. I never expected you too. Yeah, I panicked about the baby being born, but I didn't think you could fix that. It's just something that has to happen, and unfortunately, it has to happen to me. My panic didn't have anything to do with you, though."

"I wanta fix those things for ya," Daryl said. Carol smiled again, except now she was smiling and crying all at the same time and Daryl was even more confused.

"Daryl, you want to fix those things for me because you love me, and I think that's the most wonderful thing in the world, but I know you can't fix them, no matter how much you might want to," Carol said. "Beyond anything, Daryl…" she paused, swallowing again, "beyond anything that you could fix or even want to fix…I just need to know that you're going to be there for me…with me."

"So ya mean ya still want me with ya?" Daryl asked.

Carol sighed, wiping her eyes. She turned around and went back to the bed to sit down on the edge of it.

"Of course I still want you with me, Daryl," she said. "But I want to know that you're in this, and that you're really in it. If I have to do this by myself, then that's fine, I'll do what I have to do, but I can't handle the not knowing. I can't handle you just running out whenever it gets to be too much for you because then I've got to deal with whatever was too much for you and I've got to deal with the fact that you left."

"So then ya still love me?" Daryl asked.

Carol looked at him. She chuckled.

"Jesus, Daryl, of course I still love you. You don't just stop loving someone once you love them!" She said.

"Then ya gonna let me come back in the cell?" Daryl asked.

Carol had her elbows on her legs and her face in her hands now. She sat there for a minute before propping her face up, looking at him. She sighed again.

"Yes, Daryl, you can come back into the cell, but if you come back in then I want you to promise me that you're dedicated to this. If you want to leave, that's fine, but you've got to tell me where you're going, and if you get scared of something or you feel like there's something you can't fix, then you've just got to tell me, not run away from me." Carol said.

Daryl sat down on the side of the bed beside Carol. He reached an arm out and circled it around her shoulders, pulling her against him. She wrapped her arms around him, her face against his chest.

"I can do that," he said. "Ya think if ya pissed at me then ya could tell me why ya pissed instead a' throwin' all my shit in the hallway next time?"

Carol snorted and buried her face in his chest for a moment.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I won't throw your things out of the cell again without telling you why I'm doing it."

Carol pulled away from him then and Daryl cupped her cheek with one hand, tipping her face toward him. He leaned in and kissed her. For a moment she didn't respond, but finally she accepted his tongue, returning the kiss full force.

"I guess we've still got to learn how to talk to each other," Carol said when they parted.

"I reckon so," Daryl said.

"Get your stuff, bring it back in here. After you put everything away, if there's time before dinner, maybe we can spend a little time together…" Carol said.

Daryl regarded her a moment. The look in her eyes was one that he was more than familiar with. It was the kind of sleepy, kind of drunk look that she got when she was thinking about something else. Daryl was surprised that she would be giving him that look now, when she'd only this morning been tossing him out of her life for good. He smiled, though, and got up. He went outside the cell and started collecting up the clothes and things that were scattered around. He could hear the sound of people, around doing whatever they were doing, but at the moment he didn't care.

Daryl came back into the cell with his arms full. He carefully pulled open the top drawer, careful not to drop anything he was holding, and then let the pile of clothes drop down on top of it. He started stuffing the contents into the drawer as tightly as he could.

"Daryl!" Carol said from the bed. He turned to look at her.

"What?" He asked.

"You know that's not how your clothes were in those drawers," Carol said.

Daryl looked at the door that he had about half closed. Pieces of clothing stuck out around the edge, but he was pretty sure that if he stuffed them down it would close completely.

"No," he said, "but that's how they was in the hall."

"Fold them up like they're supposed to be," Carol said. "I already folded them once when you moved in here, I'm not doing it again."

Daryl wanted to protest that the clothes wouldn't need to be folded at all if she hadn't thrown them out of the cell in the first place, but he decided that was only likely to start another fight, and he didn't feel like having to go through that again. He knew, though, that if he was going to have to fold them up they'd never get to do anything before supper. He hated folding, and he was slow at it, and it wouldn't be too long before someone came through the prison announcing that it was time to eat.

Daryl pulled the clothes back out of the drawer and piled them on the bed. Carol sat on the bed and watched him messily folding the clothes and putting them in a pile to the side. He thought she'd offer to help him, but she didn't. She just watched him quietly. Finally, when he'd finished, he picked up the piles and put them back into the drawers, closing the drawers in a satisfied manner.

He came back to the bed then and took off his boots. He crawled up the bed and over her legs, straddling her, pushing her back on the bed and kissing her. She returned the kiss and ran her hands inside his shirt and over his chest, pulling his shirt up to give her better access. He kissed her jaw and made his way down to her neck, his hands on either side of her at the moment, holding him up.

"Dinner!" He heard Maggie call, as though the rumble of voices didn't already announce that everyone was gathering in anticipation of the meal. Daryl ignored the call and continued to kiss at Carol's neck, wishing the shirt that she was wearing was more like the dress she'd had on the day before and gave him easier access to her shoulders.

"Daryl, it's time to eat," Carol said.

"In a minute," Daryl said. He came back up and his mouth found hers again. For a second she kissed him, their tongues wrestling lazily with each other. Daryl felt himself already growing aroused at the prospect of what was coming next.

"Let's get dinner," Carol said when they broke apart.

Daryl hovered over her, looking down at her.

"Ya serious?" He asked. They hadn't even started taking off their clothes yet, and already she was thinking about other things.

"I'm hungry," she said. "I didn't eat lunch."

Daryl's own stomach rumbled in response to the thought. He hadn't eaten lunch either. It had been too busy of a day and he'd spent most of it wandering around the area outside of the prison looking for the wildflowers, which were really just colorful weeds, which he was pretty sure they were lying on top of on the bed.

"Come on," Carol said, her hands out of his shirt now and pushing against his chest. "Let's get something to eat and then we can come back."

Daryl didn't move for a minute. He was aroused, and he really didn't relish the thought of giving up his position here so soon after he'd earned it. He was also positive that whenever they did go to get dinner everyone would be staring at them. He doubted the details of their fight were lost on anyone at the prison. Judith probably even knew about all that had happened in the last two days.

"Why don't we skip supper," Daryl suggested. "We can get some breakfast in the mornin'."

Carol giggled.

"Daryl! Let's go get dinner. I have to eat," she said.

Daryl sighed. He leaned down to kiss her again, hoping to distract her. She returned the kiss, but only briefly before pulling away again, still essentially pinned below him on the mattress.

"Daryl, dinner," she said. "It's going to taste bad enough as it is, we don't want to get it cold too."

Daryl huffed and moved off of her. She started to sit up and he shoved his feet back into his boots, tying the laces quickly and then he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Don't pout," Carol said. She sat up on her knees on the bed and leaned over, pulling his face toward her. She kissed him again, slowly, and it was all he could do not to push her back down onto the bed again. She pulled away from him finally. "We'll go and get some food, and then when we're done we can spend the rest of the night together."

Daryl sighed.

"Fine, but ya stay here. I'll go bring us some plates back. Ya can at least eat with ya shirt off, that's what the hell I hung the blanket for, ain't it?" Daryl said.

Carol smiled at him.

"Fine, Daryl. If you'll go bring us back some dinner, I'll eat with my shirt off, if that makes you happy," she said.

Daryl smiled at her. He hadn't imagined she would really agree to it, but if she was going to agree to it then he was more than happy to go wait in line to bring them some plates back.

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While Daryl took the dishes back after dinner, Carol stripped out of her clothes. She folded them and placed them on the chair near the door of the cell where Daryl would likely sling his later. She cleaned off the bed, smiling a little even as she raked the wilted weeds into the trashcan. He had meant well. He'd tried to find her flowers to say that he was sorry, and she was sure that he truly was.

Today had been the first time that she thought she had ever seen Daryl Dixon cry. Sure, it hadn't been some kind of bawling fit, but there had been tears in his eyes whether or not he would ever admit it.

She knew that Daryl had a lot of issues. He had a lot of issues before the world had come crashing to halt and the dead had decided to amble about, but he had a lot more issues now. She also knew that Daryl knew nothing about feelings or how to express them, and he certainly knew nothing about what he should do with his feelings for her. She could see that now. Daryl's feelings for her were beyond his understanding.

Daryl Dixon was a simple, straightforward, tactile man. He understood what he could see, touch, taste, hear, and smell. If it was beyond his five senses, though, he was left somewhat lost.

Carol could understand that to some degree. She didn't have so much a problem admitting to her feelings as he did, but she knew that she had a problem trusting them at times. His had been dormant, or at least stuffed away before. Hers had betrayed her. They'd told her that a man loved her who never really had. They'd put her in a position where she'd been ruled by that man. Her feelings had lied to her, and then she'd responded by cramming them back so that they couldn't hurt her anymore.

And now here she was. She had more feelings right now than she knew what to do with. She had feelings that she wasn't positive she'd ever had before, and some that she thought she'd never really have again. And on top of that, she had these feelings for a man who had absolutely no idea what to do with the feelings that he was having since they were almost foreign to him.

Perhaps she'd been too easy on Daryl, or perhaps she'd been too hard on him. She could see both arguments, depending on the angle that she considered the situation with. She had, however, been just as hard as she'd wanted to be, and it gave her yet another feeling that she hadn't had before in her life. It gave her the feeling of being in charge, however briefly, in her relationship with a man. She had decided today what was satisfactory and what wasn't. She had been the one to outline for Daryl what conduct she was willing to tolerate and to forgive, and what she expected to be changed if he wanted to stay with her…and he had responded that he wanted to change. He wanted to change whatever was necessary to stay with her. He'd willingly handed over that control.

Carol got into bed, pulling the blankets up over her. She lie there, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for him to reappear through the blanket. The thing about power and control, which she was just now learning for herself, was that it was a wonderful feeling to have, but it wasn't something that needed to be exercised too much. She had already decided that when Daryl came into the cell, she was going to give it back to him for a while. He'd looked at her while they ate as though he was almost drunk with lust, and she was going to give him the control to do with that what he pleased. She didn't need it anymore right now.

Daryl came through the blanket and his eyes fell on her, lying in the bed under the blankets. She smiled at him and he grinned back. She watched as he undressed himself, tossing his clothes over the chair. She studied him, appreciating his body, disbelieving for a moment that he was even real. It seemed impossible to believe that a man as perfect as he was, although slightly flawed at times, was a man that loved her. Even if he did things like upset her by leaving the day before, she still considered him as close to perfect as any man that she'd ever known, and he was here asking her permission to join her in bed. This very same man, with rippling muscles and a mischievous grin, was the man that earlier had handed the power over to her willingly.

Carol lifted up the cover and Daryl slipped under it, immediately finding the position that he'd relinquished earlier. Carol kissed him in response to his lips finding hers and she closed her eyes as his mouth explored her body. He was in control now, and she was more than happy to let him be. His mouth closed down around her nipple and sucked it, tugging it. She gasped with the feeling that shot through her, all the way to her core. As he moved his mouth to the other nipple, she felt his hand find her core, rubbing her and she involuntarily through her head back, trying to steady her breathing. His finger explored her and she felt a familiar burn building in her abdomen.

"Let go for me," Daryl growled in her ear before kissing her neck again, his hand continuing its assault on her core. She closed her eyes and felt herself fall over the edge. The shockwaves from her orgasm rolling through her.

When she opened her eyes, panting, he was hovering above her, smiling. He came down, kissing her hard. She responded with everything she had.

"I really am sorry," he said when he'd pulled away. "I mean it, I ain't leavin' ya for nothin'."

"I believe you," Carol panted. She smiled. "I'm sorry too."

He sat back between her legs for a moment and she felt his hands on her thighs, pushing them apart. He settled down onto her and entered her fully in one quick thrust. Her hands went quickly to his hips to steady them from his usually erratic movements.

"Ain't gon' hurt ya," he said, thrusting into her.

Carol moved her hands to his back and closed her eyes, enjoying the feelings that were coming over her. The pleasure was so overwhelming at the moment that she could ignore the still dull ache of ribs that hadn't fully healed. He moved inside her, his mouth exploring her breast, her neck, the side of her face, wherever his impulses led him, and her body responded back without even the necessity that she tell it to do so.

When she came again, he joined her, and they shook together. When he crawled off of her and settled beside her, pulling her back up against him, her body was still humming from the encounter and she was more relaxed than she could remember being in a while.

"I'm glad ya still love me," Daryl said, "even if I am an ass sometimes."

Carol smiled, even though he couldn't see it.

"I do love you, even when you are an ass," she said. "You love me even though I threw you out for a while?"

Daryl chuckled.

"'Course I love ya," he said. "Gotta love a woman with a little fire in her."

Carol smiled again and settled down into the pillow. She was feeling very sleepy all of a sudden and wanted to just let herself drift off in his arms.

"Next time, though, you reckon ya could do without throwin' my crossbow?" Daryl asked.

Carol snickered.

"I suppose that I can consider not throwing your crossbow next time," she said.

In response, Daryl kissed her shoulder and pulled her back to him, hugging her tightly.

"Thanks for lettin' me back in," he said. "'Cause I woulda hated ta have ta sleep in the hall."

"I'll always let you back in," Carol said, "but if you pull the same stunt again I will make you sleep in the hall for a little while."