Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

a/n: I would like to thank everyone that has left a review, favourited /followed this story. Your kind words mean a lot, and are ever so gratefully appreciated. Thank you.

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Yellow

Carol sat at the wooden kitchen table, mug clasped in one hand, chewing nervously on a fingernail. The slow steady thumps of her heart belied that surging anxiety that she was trying to hold down and suppress. They had been here, Alexandria, for just two days, and already Carol's nerves were taught, over stretched. It felt easier to be constantly on the move, running, fighting, roaming than this feeling of static nothingness, waiting for the inevitable bad to happen, because inevitably it always did catch up to them.

The first few rays of a glorious new morning filtered finely through the windowpane, actual glass, clean and unbroken, and she glanced up squinting slightly, a small worried frown puckering her lips downwards, the thought of something so trivial as to be looking out of a window striking her now as an abnormal act.

Glancing down, she ran her fingertips over the edge of the chipped porcelain mug, the smell of coffee bitter and strong, slightly stinging her nose. It all felt so normal, and it all felt so very wrong.

She had woken early, senses fine tuned from being so long on the run, the compulsion to wake at first light, to scour unmarked perimeters, to wait and watch boiled strongly within herself. Wryly she thought that the hunter in Daryl had somehow rubbed off on her through their long association. Normally it would have been him waking at first light.

They had all been allocated temporary housing until their integration into this new community. Their group had been split into three, and Carol knew only to well that Rick would be feeling the same as herself, probably was even pacing like a caged tiger at this moment. Like Carol, Rick had protested largely that their group shouldn't be split up...but the decision had not been his to make, and as much as he'd protested and kicked off, the matter was snatched firmly out of his hands by a group of strangers.

She took a sip of the rapidly cooling coffee, and wondered how she had ever drunk so much of it in the past. The bitterness stung her tongue unpleasantly.

The Alexandria officials that had greeted them at the gate, had mistakenly deferred to her as leader of their group, and while outwardly she had shown them no reaction, Rick had caught the small look she had given, and had nodded at her, his eyes boring into hers sharply. He wanted them to think this, and she had reluctantly accepted the role Rick had silently offered, knowing that scrutiny would be upon herself, not him, giving him the freedom to move, gauge reactions. As much as she didn't want this burden, as interim as it would be, she reluctantly accepted that it was the right choice.

Putting down the coffee mug, she rubbed at her forehead, at the headache threatening to form. Whether it was from stress, or the unused to side effect of strong caffeine, she wasn't sure. Probably it was both. Today she had a meeting to attend with the officials, and she desperately wished that she could see Rick, talk to him, formulate a plan, but she had been unable despite several attempts the previous day. A few guards wandering down the small street had persuaded her not to attempt it, and frustration growled largely in her.

She rose, taking her empty mug to the sink as she heard heavy footfalls on the stairs in the hallway. Reaching for the coffee pot, she poured herself another, hesitating, her hand poised over a spare mug. Footsteps clattered into the kitchen, and she called over her shoulder, "Want some coffee?"

A chair dragged across the worn linoleum, and a voice answered her gruffly, "Stuff tastes like shit."

"I'll make you some anyway," she said half smiling to herself.

"They won't let me hunt."

She turned to him, steaming mug in hand, placing it in front of him. She almost heard the pout in his voice. "Still?" she asked.

"Yeah, bunch'a assholes," Daryl grumbled.

Carol sat opposite him, noting the irritation looming on his face. She let out a long sigh,"Have that meeting this afternoon. Can't say I'm really looking forward to it."

"You'll be fine," he said, his eyes raising upwards, meeting hers, holding her gaze. His hand slid across the table top, capturing hers, his thumb brushing softly across her knuckles. "'ave every faith in ya. As Rick does, 'm sure."

Wanting to pull her hand away from his, she broke away from his earnest gaze, wondering what the hell had happened between them. As quick as he was lowering his barriers to her now, she was building her own back up. It had happened days after Grady, Daryl had been stricken between grief and worry. She had felt useless, pathetic, her injuries slowing her down, slowing the group down. Several times she had tried to leave, and every time Daryl had brought her back. He had kept this from Rick, from the others, choosing to guard and care for her, despite her feeble attempts to fend him off. And when they had been allocated housing, Daryl had gone with her. He slept in her room, opting to sleep on the floor. She supposed it was to make sure that she didn't attempt to run again, but he had made it more than obvious that his interest lay in other directions. Something which she would have passionately welcomed a few months ago.

Carol quietly watched as he drank his coffee, while she left hers cooling on the table top. His hand had left hers, and was now absently scratching at the wispy hair on his chin between sips. His eyes caught hers again, and he smiled darkly. She glanced away quickly, trying to ignore the warmth that coursed through her body at his almost appraising look. She didn't deserve it, she didn't deserve his emotions, his unfaltering loyalty. He would leave her if he found out what had happened to the girls. He still didn't know about Lizzie, about Mika, it was a torpid secret that only she and Tyreese shared. He didn't need to hear about any more dead girls, his grief at losing Beth at the hospital had almost destroyed him.

Sighing again, Carol glanced around the kitchen. She remembered once, what now seemed an eternity ago, that she had decorated a room much in this manner. She had been happy and naive then, only just married, babe on the way, and the maternal nesting emotions had stirred her to redecorate almost every room in the small house that they'd bought. Their kitchen had been her favourite, done out in a pretty yellow, not unlike the room she now sat in. She only hoped that this room would not echo with the same sorrow and fear that had happened back then.

Beth had worn yellow the day she had died.

She hadn't heard him move towards her, only jumping when his hands descended onto her shoulders. Her heart yammered briefly in her chest with fear, and she stiffened under his touch. She felt the light kiss he pressed to the side of her head, and not being able to stop herself, she pushed his hands off, almost leaping out of the chair. "Stop," she pleaded, her voice breaking under the word.

"Don't shut me out," Daryl warned as he closed the space between them. "I won't let ya."

"Rick was right when he banished me. I'm a danger. You're better off without me. I will leave after this meeting," she replied quickly, stepping back, trying to put more space between them, grimacing as he kept pace with her.

"'s'crap, and Rick was wrong. I keep tellin' ya woman. When will ya listen to me?"

"No, when will you listen, Daryl?" she spat. "Everyone I care about dies. I wont care for you, I wont allow you to die."

His hand snaked out, grabbing her arm tightly, almost painfully. His fingers dug into her. "Bullshit," Daryl hissed, pulling her to him. "I ain't goin' any damn where, and neither are you."

Carol stood stiffly in his awkward embrace, his arm tightly wound around her back, holding her steadily against him. She grit her teeth as his other hand brushed against her head, pushing her gently to his chest. His heartbeat danced maddeningly against her cheek, and she closed her eyes to the sound.

His cheek pressed against her head, his lips grazing the tip of her ear. "I nearly lost ya at Grady, ya don't know what that did to me. I ain't ever gonna lose you like that. No fuckin' way." His voice was coarse with barely held back emotion, and Carol felt the unbidden sting of tears in her eyes. Reflexively, her arm slipped around his waist before she could stop herself. His mouth ghosted at her ear again, voice low and breaking, his breath warm and alive. "I...I love ya, an' I'm a fuckin' jackass for not sayin' it sooner. Told myself I'd tell you, but ya keep pushin' me away. I ain't letting ya fuckin' go."

Carol felt all the fight drain from herself and she slumped wearily into his arms. Hesitantly, she raised her face to his, seeing with fear the tears misting his eyes. He kissed her forehead and she closed her eyes again to his touch, not trusting herself. She only hoped that she was wrong, and he wouldn't pay the price for caring for her.

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