A/N: 12/30/2014 To purposefully quote Barack Obama: "I know I'm a little late." XD Anyway, this is WAY longer than I intended, but I'm sure you'll love it.

wildcow258: Thank you for your long review! I love those kinds :) Yeah, you'd think they would've been more considerate of Daryl's feelings regarding Merle. They let him go pretty easily if you ask me. Don't apologize for the rant, I love reading them (very entertaining) ;)

hellsheep: Wow thanks! I've only ever read one or two DarylxOC fics, but I can imagine how 'not Daryl' they can be. I'm glad you think 'my' Daryl is so in character :)

Laura: Why thank you, Laura! ^^

Guest: Yes, exactly! Couldn't have said it better myself. I'm sure Daryl's leaving hurt more than she let on, but I think things worked out for the best. Just think, if he hadn't left, that family at Yellow Jacket Creek probably would have died, and Carol never would have gotten stronger. Thanks for your thoughts! :)

Prettyprincess45: YESSSS, look forward to Pretty! It'll be chapter 18, so just a few more days! Again, I'm SUPER glad you think I'm such a good Caryl writer. It means the entire universe to me :)

Terp4Life: I'm sorry! Hopefully the feelings in this chapter will make it all better! :( Hm, quite the coincidence indeed. And surely you mean that you watched the 4th season of TWD on Netflix? They don't have the 5th one on there XD You may cease the stomping of the feet, for your daily fix is available :)

Reading time: 7 mins.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

Chapter fourteen: Forgiving~

Luckily for him, he wouldn't have to go on missing Carol and the others much longer.

Only a few hours into their trip, he and Merle got into it. It started with an argument over directions - Daryl insisted he knew the way to get to the creek, and Merle insisted he was just trying to lead them in a circle back to the prison - and ended with him stopping his brother from looting the car of a passing Mexican family.

He assumed it was just a slight hitch, an after-effect of having been separated from each other for so long, and they just needed time to get back into their grooves.

He was wrong.

They fought, they yelled, they argued, and after getting everything out in the open, somehow ended up back at the prison with Rick and the others.

It had been hard, convincing them to let Merle stay. But in the end, he was more important to them than any old grudges they still held over anything his brother had done, and they ultimately accepted him into the group.

Daryl sat in his cell, staring at one of his arrows and twirling it around in his hands.

Since they'd got back, he hadn't seen hide nor hair of Carol. But if he were being completely honest with himself, he didn't really want to.

No, that wasn't right.

He wanted to, he just wasn't ready. Wasn't ready to face up to what he'd done, leaving her like that.

Not saying goodbye.

Not saying anything...

He knew she would probably be okay, but he still couldn't get over the biting thought in the back of his mind that maybe she wouldn't. Maybe she'd be mad at him and curse his grave and never want anything to do with him again. Maybe she already was. Maybe she already did. Maybe he should be hiding right now...

But then again, knowing Carol, he probably didn't have much choice in the matter anyway. Even if he did hide, avoid her like the plague, she would find him. And he would have to fess up to what he'd done sooner or later.

Daryl's head shot up at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall, and his heart very nearly quit working as Carol rounded the corner to his cell.

She leaned against the doorway, effectively blocking any hopes of an exit, and sighed up at the ceiling.

It was silent for the longest of seconds, and he was stiff as a board as he waited for her judgement of his unintentional crime.

Carol lazily turned her head toward him, and he resisted the urge to swallow nervously as she opened her mouth to speak, a strange and unnerving glint in her eye.

"You know, I never got to tell you this," He braced himself. Here it comes. The moment where she tells him how angry she was that he left and that he could just crawl in a corner and die- "But I'm glad you came back." ...What?

"...To what?" He asked, prodding her. "All this?" He turned his head, gesturing to the small space around him.

"This is our home," she said simply, smiling and moving closer to sit down in front of him.

He gave a small half-smile, but still wasn't convinced. "This is a tomb," he said, sadness seeping into his voice.

Her smile faded, and she looked away from him to stare at the wall. "That's what T-Dog called it. And for a while there, I thought he was right."

Daryl looked down at the arrow in his hands, feeling like shit for bringing it up. Him and his damned mouth. He should've just-

"Until you found me."

He looked back up at her, and their gazes met.

What was she saying? That she was ready to give up on life before then? That she didn't have any more hope than he'd believed until he found her rotting in that cellblock, tired and dehydrated? That she'd run out of hope?

...Was she saying he'd been the one to give it back?

Daryl stared at her for a long moment - hell, a few long moments - before finally letting his guard down and forgetting about any of the stupid ideas regarding her reaction to his leaving that had been floating around in his head.

He smiled.

It was small, barely there by most people's standards, but it was the best he could muster on account of he wasn't used to it.

Dixons didn't smile. The very thought was absurd! Oh, if Merle could see him now...shit, he hoped he wasn't in the next cell over.

Carol looked away under his stare, an awkwardness in her silence and a flush in her cheeks, but before Daryl had time to think about what that meant, she spoke.

"He's your brother. Your family."

She paused.

"But he's not good for you."

She closed her mouth, only to open it a second later when she caught the sad look in his eyes.

"Just don't let him bring you down. After all; look how far you've come."

She gave another soft smile, and they stared at each other for several long moments before things got awkward and they looked away, looking at anything but the other person.

He wanted to say something else, to acknowledge that he cared about her opinion and his own personal progress over the past eight months, but nothing useful was coming to his brain.

He wasn't sure who opened their mouth first, but one of them spat out a chuckle and the other soon followed, and before he really knew what was going on or why they were doing it to begin with, they were laughing.

Giggles spontaneously filled the cell and echoed off the prison walls, and all was right again.

If there was one thing he could choose that he liked about Carol the most, and he only had one word to explain it, he could have easily done so in that moment.

And as their fit of laughter died, he knew that he was truly glad to have known Carol Peletier, with all her faults and imperfections, her company and absence, her clear head and helpful advice.

He could never replace this woman before him if he searched a hundred years.

And the word he would have chosen?

Forgiving.

She was forgiving.

Not blind to his faults and sins, but not condemning or judgmental either. She helped him when he needed it, gave advice when it was warranted, and shut her mouth when he wanted silence. She never made him feel bad about himself or his situation, and now he knew that he would never have to worry about what she thought of the decisions he made.

Yes.

The word he would have chosen would definitely be forgiving.

A/N: Up next: Cheeky.

See you tomorrow!