AN: Here we go…something more!

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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Carol was beginning to worry about Daryl. She knew that he, Merle, and Hershel had met to discuss things with Rick…things about the Governor that Rick didn't want to discuss with the whole group, and it really wasn't supposed to be their business anyway…after all they trusted him to be the leader and make the best decisions.

After that, he'd disappeared. She hadn't been able to find him anywhere. Hershel had retired to his cell, which he wasn't leaving, and Merle had posted himself on watch duty in the tower, dismissing anyone else from taking watch with him.

But Daryl was missing entirely.

So after lunch was done and everything was cleaned up, Carol took one of the bowls of food up to the tower and climbed the stairs. Merle may have declared that everyone was to leave him alone, but she had little intention of listening to that declaration until she knew that Daryl was alright.

When Carol came into the tower she found Merle sitting in one of the chairs with his back to the door, staring out over the yard. He didn't turn when she entered and he didn't turn at the closing of the door. On the floor beside him was a partially drained bottle of whiskey…one of the many that they had in storage.

"I brought you something to eat," Carol offered, not knowing exactly what kind of mood she was going to find the eldest Dixon in.

Merle turned around then in his chair and looked at her a moment, almost like he didn't recognize her. Then he grunted his thanks but made no move toward her or the plate.

Carol put the plate on the table in the tower and stood there for a moment, before circling around to lean against the railing he was looking out over.

"Don't lean on that shit," Merle growled.

Carol stood up straight, readjusting her clothes really just to give her hands something to do.

"Did things go OK? With Rick?" Carol asked.

Merle looked at her…he looked her literally from head to toe…and then leaned over, picking his whiskey bottle up and taking a swig out of it.

He smirked and looked back out over the yard. Sucking his teeth before taking another swig.

Carol swallowed, realizing he wasn't going to answer and her also realizing that he was probably well on his way to being inebriated if he wasn't already.

"Do you know where Daryl is?" Carol asked, deciding not to pursue things that Merle obviously didn't want to talk about.

"Huntin'…" Merle said. "Figured ya'd have figured that out by now. Ever since Daryl was a kid…still pissin' himself on a regular…he gets the hell outta dodge when he needs time ta think about shit."

Carol nodded. She had figured that he might be hunting, but lately he'd made it a point to find her and tell her that he was leaving before he ever slipped out of the safety of the fences.

"I guess I'll leave you then," Carol said. "You should eat…probably won't be too good if it gets too cold. And be careful…drinking and those steps don't mix."

Since her night with the wine, Carol had really decided that for her drinking didn't mix too much with anything. She wouldn't say that she'd never drink again, because well…never say never…but she could say for certain that she didn't feel confident about any of the decisions that it might lead someone to make.

"The boy loves ya," Merle said as Carol turned to start out of the tower. Carol stopped and turned back. She walked around until she was facing Merle again, her arms crossed across her chest.

"Daryl?" She asked. She wasn't really sure why she asked it, but she'd learned not to take anything for granted these days.

Merle chuckled.

"Who the fuck else ya shackin' up with, Mouse?" Merle asked.

Carol shook her head.

"No one…of course," she said. "I just didn't expect you to say that."

Merle sucked his teeth and growled a little in his throat.

"Just thought'cha outghta know if he ain't had the balls ta tell ya yet," Merle said. "He ain't never been too damn good at talkin' 'bout shit. I'm the fuckin' poet in the family."

Merle sipped at the bottle, chuckling to himself and Carol couldn't help but catch the chuckle, feeling a little lighter than she had when she'd come up there.

"Thanks for letting me know," she said.

Merle just looked at her and didn't say anything.

"I love him too," Carol said. "Very much…"

Merle nodded at her then and Carol dismissed herself without saying anything. She left him alone with his bottle and his bowl and went to take care of a few of the chores, hoping that Daryl would soon be back and safe inside the gates again instead of out there, somewhere, trying to outrun his thoughts on whatever was going on with Rick and the Governor.

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"Officer Friendly ain't the kinda damn fella ya want in charge," Merle growled at Daryl, his voice low enough that it wouldn't carry.

Daryl had come in from hunting, dropping off the three rabbits and two squirrels he'd scrounged up with Carol…who made a bigger fuss over them than he was used to…and then he'd gone in search of Merle to have a little brother to brother chat about what Rick was proposing for the group.

While he'd been out on his hunt he hadn't really made any real decisions. He could, in some ways…and even though it gnawed at his stomach…see more than one side to situation. On the one hand, it had always been the same mantra for the group…all for one and one for all…but no one with half a brain believed it. The real mantra was "do anything for your people first". Then, if there was any energy left over to expend elsewhere, you could worry about what was and wasn't good for the rest of the people.

But it had always been "for your people first," and until now, Daryl hadn't been sure that he had people in the group. He was, after all, one of the outsiders.

It had gnawed at him, though, as he'd been thinking about things and pacing around the wooded area…that perhaps those were his people. He was an outsider. The other outsiders…they all had the same thing in common. There was no one looking out for their asses. They were part of a group, but their existence felt tenuous. Maybe they were his people.

In which case, Michonne was one of his people. Though he knew little about the woman, she was just as much an outsider as he was and he had no reason to believe she was less of a person. She had fought in the Governor's first attack…right along beside him even…and she had never shown in any way that she wasn't willing to fight again.

She was willing to fight against the Governor for the group…for her people…for the very people who were now considering serving her up to the man like a prized pig.

Yet, if Rick was right and turning over could stop them from going to war and stop them from losing lives…if it could guarantee Daryl that he wouldn't lose Carol even…then he'd have to consider marching her up there himself and the thought frightened him and turned his stomach.

If Merle was right, and the Governor was lying…then it wouldn't do any good anyway and they were just sacrificing the woman for the hell of it.

And now he was walking fences with his brother who was nursing a whiskey bottle that he held in his one hand and listening to Merle's quiet argument against Rick…against the man who had arguably gotten them this far.

"Rick's done alright by me, I reckon," Daryl said. "Shit ain't easy these days."

Merle chuckled slightly.

"Nah…it ain't…but ya pal ain't no damn better than the Governor," Merle said.

Daryl stopped walking for a minute and Merle paused to keep with him.

"How ya figure? The fuckin' Governor's a madman, ya said it yaself," Daryl said.

Merle raised his eyebrows and nodded, a permanent smirk pasted on his face thanks to the warm companionship of his friend Jack Daniels.

Merle pointed at him, freeing only the one finger from the grip he had on the bottle.

"Ya number just ain't come up, brother," Merle said. "But'cha wait…Officer Friendly ain't got no damn more allegiance ta you than he got ta that woman that spent most her damn day clearin' fences…never knowin' that he hired me ta all but assassinate her ass."

"You're the one that agreed to do it," Daryl challenged. "Doesn't that mean ain't none a' us got clean hands?"

Merle chuckled again and nodded.

"Difference is, boy, I'm like rattle snake. I might kill ya ass…but I got the balls ta let'cha know I'm comin'. Ya pal, Rick…see he's like a fuckin' cottonmouth tucked up under the leaves. He keeps it quiet so ya don't fuckin' know ya 'bout ta be in a world a' shit," Merle said. He sucked on his bottle. Afterwards he swallowed noisily and ignored the dribble of whiskey that dripped down his face. "If it was me, I'd tell the Governor ta go fuck himself right 'fore I cut his fuckin' throat if I got as close ta him as ole Rick did…Rick…he's just gon' turn that girl over 'cause she don't mean a fuckin' thing ta him."

"You mean ta tell me she means somethin' ta you?" Daryl challenged.

Merle shook his head.

"Don't give one hot damn 'bout her other than she's a livin' example of the snake we got sleepin' in our backyard," Merle said.

Merle started walking then and Daryl forced his feet to obey him and keep step with his brother, his brain turning over and over the two sides of the coin. The two truths he wanted to see…the two truths he didn't want to see…never able to decide exactly where his thoughts lie on the matter. This was why he didn't want to ever be a leader…this was why they left the position to someone like Rick.

"People like Rick…they like ta put on," Merle continued. "Like ta pretend he's got his shit all worked out…like he's the good fuckin' guy. But his hands, they just as dirty as everyone else's…he just licks 'em clean real quick like so ya ain't got time ta see it all. They was 'round before the shit hit the fan…an' they still 'round."

"Then why are you doing what he wants?" Daryl asked.

Merle chuckled again, sucking leisurely at his bottle, his step only beginning to falter a little.

"If I don't take that girl…Rick will," Merle said. "So I'ma take her…my hands is already dirty an' I reckon the fuckin' devil he done gon' have a slow dance or two with me one way or another…I might as well save Rick his fuckin' pearly white image."

Daryl heard something in Merle's tone of voice that made him wonder what Merle was really up to. There was something there that gave him the feeling that Merle wasn't telling him the truth…or at least not the whole truth.

And he wondered what Merle had up his sleeve.

"What'cha got goin' on there, Merle?" Daryl finally asked. "Ya always sucked ass at lyin'."

Merle chuckled again.

"Yeaaahhhh…" Merle said. "That's why the fuck I'm an asshole…an honest fuckin' asshole…better at bein' that than a damn liar."

"Ya ain't gon' go do nothin' stupid, is ya?" Daryl asked.

Merle sucked his teeth.

"Don't'cha worry 'bout me, Derlina," Merle said. "I'm the last fuckin' one ya need ta be worried 'bout round here. 'Sides…ain't'cha got a lil' woman ya oughta be servicin' right now or some shit?"

Daryl rolled his eyes at his brother. He knew, though, that Merle was done talking about the whole thing. He had something going on in his head…he had some plan for what he was going to do about the Governor, but he wasn't spilling his plan. He'd already changed the subject, a clear indication that Merle Dixon was done with something.

"She's prob'ly workin' on supper right now," Daryl responded. "Group don't eat 'less she fixes it."

Merle chuckled.

"An' ya ain't learned ta fuck her while she cooks?" Merle asked.

Daryl scoffed at his brother, rolling his eyes again.

"You're fuckin' drunk," Daryl said. "An' anyways, we ain't like that. We don't fuck all the damn time."

"Ya missin' out," Merle said. "Hell…what's the good a matin' for life if ya ain't toppin' her every damn chance ya get?"

Daryl stopped and shook his head. Merle stood there, a broad grin plastered across his face, his eyes twinkling a little from the alcohol.

"You're a fuckin' pig," Daryl growled. "I got shit ta do."

Daryl turned to walk back toward the prison, hearing his brother send out a chorus of oinks behind him before yelling at him to "give it ta her good".

Daryl just ignored his brother and went to entertain himself, pretending to be keeping watch, while he tried to figure out what the hell Merle was up to and whether or not he better look into putting a stop to it before the shit hit the fan.

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Daryl had come back and he'd brought back enough food to make a nice dinner for everyone. Carol had tried to make a big deal over his kills since he seemed to usually light up when someone praised him for something like that, but it hadn't really made much of a change in his countenance.

Then he'd disappeared again, staying away except for to eat dinner and then vanishing back to the watch tower immediately after eating. By the time that Carol went to bed, she was sufficiently worried that either something terrible was going on or she and Merle both were mistaken about Daryl's feelings for her.

He wasn't in the cell when she got there and the voices in her head, the ones that plagued her a good deal of the time when she let her mind get quiet and have time to stew over things, were beginning to suggest to her that Daryl was growing tired of her.

He wasn't as interested in having sex with her right now as he once had been…and she could excuse that because he had something on his mind or he was tired…but on the other hand she feared that he'd just sort of lost interest.

She really didn't have anything to offer him…she was nothing exciting…and it would stand to reason that he might very well get tired of her now that he'd had a chance to get anything out of his system that he needed to get out.

Still, she tried to talk to the voices and tell them to leave her alone. She tried to block out Ed's voice…the loudest of them all…whenever he laughed at her and told her that Daryl didn't really love her…he never had and he never would. He was staying away and he wasn't talking to her, not because of everything that was happening to their group, but because he simply didn't want to be around someone like her. He'd gotten what he wanted, and like Ed had always said…she was a bad fuck and nothing to look at. Anyone would get tired of her.

Carol was lying in the dark in the cell, trying to calm her mind and block out the voices, when she heard boots scuffling on the floor. It was dark and she couldn't see anything if she'd wanted to, but as soon as he moved into the cell, stripping his clothes off in silence, and came to the bed, his smell confirmed that he'd come.

And Carol felt her breath catch in her chest as she tried to hide the sniffing noises that were coming from the silent sobbing she'd been indulging in when she thought he was gone and that he wasn't coming.

Daryl pushed around her, lifting the blanket and settling tight against her.

And Carol closed her eyes when she felt the rough scrub of his stubble against her cheek. She realized she was holding her breath when she let it out at the strangely delightful sensation of him nuzzling her ear and then moving his head to rub his nose behind her ear, kissing the back of her neck.

"Ya been cryin'?" Daryl asked.

Carol felt her heart almost stop. She didn't want to admit she'd been crying and she didn't know if she could even deny it without her voice giving her away.

"No," she said quickly, hoping that there was no indication of it there. She could feel the sobs she was choking back still shaking her ribcage, though, and she feared that he could feel them too.

And she knew she was right when he lifted himself up and pushed, her rolling her onto her back under him. She couldn't see him, but his breath blowing down on her let her know that he was directly above her in the blackness.

"Why the fuck ya cryin'?" Daryl asked. "Someone fuckin' with ya?"

"No…" Carol got out.

"Ya hurt?" Daryl asked.

"No…" Carol got out.

"Then what the fuck's goin' on…an' don't say ya wasn't cryin' 'cause my face is fuckin' wet an' I know I weren't fuckin' cryin'," Daryl said, keeping his position with an arm on either side of her.

"Is something going on with the Governor?" Carol asked.

Daryl sighed above her.

"Don't'cha worry 'bout that shit," Daryl said. "OK? I don't want'cha even thinkin' 'bout it."

"Are you worried about it?" Carol asked.

If he was worried…if he confirmed that he was spending his energy and everything else stewing over this situation then maybe…just maybe…she could convince the voices that's all it was. He'd come to bed. He hadn't stopped coming to her. He might not have made a move to sleep with her…but he'd come to be with her, and really that was what mattered most of all if he loved her. It didn't matter if he wanted to have sex with her or if he excused the act in lieu of sleep when he needed it…what really mattered was that she know that he wanted to be with her.

But she worried that he was only there now because it was becoming a habit, and Daryl could very easily be seen as a man of habit.

Daryl sighed, his breath blowing on her, and she detected that he'd been drinking…not heavily obviously, but there were hints of alcohol on his breath.

"Just a lil'," he admitted. "But I don't want you worryin' 'bout it. Ain't ya place ta worry. I'ma make sure ya alright."

Carol snickered a little.

"I don't need you to take care of me, Daryl," Carol said.

Daryl growled softly.

"Then what the fuck ya cryin' 'bout?" He asked.

Carol chuckled this time.

Slowly the feelings that had made her cry were melting away as he lingered there over her, trying to figure out why she was crying…trying to make sure she felt secure in a world where security was a luxury afforded to none of them. And the voices were starting to quiet themselves because they had no fuel for their fire in the moment.

And she realized how ridiculous it was…even though she knew it when it was happening…that she let her feelings get the best of her the way they did.

"I was crying," she said softly, "because you didn't want to have sex with me anymore. I thought it meant…I thought you were tired of me and that you didn't want to be with me anymore."

Daryl scoffed.

"I ain't had my head in it," Daryl said. "Just ain't had my head in it…ya need me ta have sex with ya?"

Carol chuckled at the tone of his voice. He sounded tired and it sounded like when someone asked you if you wanted them to do something that they were silently praying that you'd say no to…but they didn't want to leave the question unasked because for whatever reason they felt obligated to extend the offer.

"No…" Carol said, "I don't. The promise is as good as the act."

"The hell's that s'posed ta mean?" Daryl drawled, his breath hitting her in the face again.

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

"Just kiss me goodnight, OK?" Carol asked. "Kiss me goodnight because you want to, though."

Daryl chuckled lightly, the laugh of a person who is thoroughly confused and laughs because they have no other way to handle the situation. He lowered himself, his body pressing against hers, and his lips found hers.

Carol gave into the kiss as fully as she could, teasing his tongue with hers and tasting the stale cigarettes and the hint of whiskey that she'd detected on his breath. And when he finally pulled out of the kiss and dropped beside her again, wrapping his arm around her waist and nuzzling at her neck, she closed her eyes and smiled to herself.

"Ya good?" Daryl asked.

Carol nodded.

"Yeah," she responded. "Just…if you could let me worry about it with you…I would."

Daryl squeezed her a little.

"Ain't nothin' for ya ta worry 'bout," he repeated. "Ya don't need me ta look out for ya…but fuck if I ain't gon' do it no way."

Carol chuckled.

"I love you, Daryl," she offered.

Daryl kissed the back of her neck, his teeth nipping gently at the skin there. Carol shivered.

"Love ya too, woman," he growled.

Carol sighed and closed her eyes, hoping that he'd sleep too, despite whatever worry it was that he wasn't willing to share with her at the moment.