AN: I'd apologize, but after all, this is a Caryl fic (somewhat hehe). Anyway, I'll just get right into it: I had this idea the other night, and I just had to work on this new chapter. Hopefully, I can get the writing bug again this week and write the next chapter! I'm sorry for the length, but I had an idea and I just ran with it! As usual I don't own any of this (and that's a good thing). All characters belong to AMC, etc.

Carol and Daryl were the first ones to make it back to the camp. Having finished most of their 'shopping' assigned to them by Glenn, they each grabbed a few more boxes of simple, ball-ornaments and walked together to where Carl and Judith were decorating.

Daryl casually let his hip bump into Carol, and she pursed her lips at him, "Not now." She muttered, clutching at the stack of boxes in her hands.

He laughed, keeping his gaze on the woman beside him, watching her hair bob up and down against the collar of her shirt. He was always amazed at how she managed to be so fierce, but still delicate and feminine. Plus, she was amazing with Judith, and he had loved to watch her care for the girl as she grew up.

Perhaps it had been the third time he had walked in on Carol sleeping with Judith in her arms that he had ever thought to tell her how he felt. Of course there had been times where he knew that she knew. There was something in him that thought that he would never need to tell her, that they could continue their relationship just as it was, and they would both be perfectly content. As usual, nothing went as planned that night.

HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOH

They had been holed up for about a week in another one of their poor excuses for shelter. This time, it was a block of condominiums. They had only had the daylight available to clear out two, so everyone was bumping elbows wherever they went. He had chosen to live in the same condominium as Carol at that time. He heard about the group's Girl Scout code, something about calling themselves 'GREATM' like some yaya sisterhood, and he wanted no part of that. Living with the other half of the group proved to be no easier on his nerves. Something in him was different ever since the times that he had lost Carol, and it made his blood boil to think that there needed to be an 's' at the end of that word. He wanted to share a room with her to make sure she was protected, he took watch at night whenever he could, but he only remained outside of her door. He became selfish, and he resented that in himself. He wanted to keep everyone in the group safe, but he always put her before anyone else.

In addition, his new 'watchdog' status had taken a toll on their relationship as well. She became annoyed with him, asking him if he would follow her into the bathroom or snidely requesting his permission to be excused from meals. Of course, he knew when he backed off, everything would have returned to normal, but the idea of this drove him mad. After one dinner consisting mainly of dirty looks shot back and forth, Carol announced that she was taking Judith upstairs to sleep. Rick nodded and flashed his eyes over to Daryl, who was staring blankly into his can of peaches.

"Well isn't that just the case," Michonne dug her spoon into her fruit cocktail as Carol reached the top of the stairs, "the watchdog is reduced to a sad little puppy."

This caused Daryl to tense, and he set down his dinner, "Be right back. Need some air." All of this was making him sick to his stomach.

"Okay, brother." Rick nodded and shot Michonne an exasperated look; she continued to pick at her food.

"If he doesn't come back, can I have his share?" Michonne snorted, but Rick and Carl stared her down. Daryl was at the front door, looking through the peephole into the inky, black night. He quietly opened the door, and Michonne saw him duck back in to grab his crossbow. The door closed softly behind him.

He had to go. He had to do something to get his mind off of Carol, because he wanted a clear head when he took watch again tonight. Not gonna sit outside her door all damn night, Dixon he repeated to himself. The group was first, and he didn't have to worry so much about her. She was part of the group, and if he was protecting the group, he was protecting her.

He kept his footsteps muffled, his ear to the ground as he swept along the outer perimeter of their shelter.

"Ain't a guard dog." he said to himself, noticing the small tremble in his voice.

Just then, he heard a noise from behind two short, metal garbage cans. He craned his neck, hoping to see around them, but it was too dark. He approached, cautiously, allowing the upper half of his body to lean back as he nudged the cans with his left foot.

Nothing.

He continued to the backside of the condominiums and let his mind wander again. What does she think I'm doin'? I'm protectin' her; I'm protectin' what I love. He felt his heart race at the word, and he inhaled sharply. He didn't understand what he was thinking; why he was letting himself get so attached. In this world, the things that you loved were ripped away the second you got a hold on them. I'll just back off. Tha's what she wants, right? We can just be in the same group. Don't gotta have nothing happen.

"Fuck, that." He snorted and repositioned his crossbow against his shoulder. The perimeter seemed to be free of walkers, so he stopped to check out the surrounding yards. He saw a small baby swing next door and thought they should clear out the next few yards so Rick could have some quality time with his family. In all likelihood they wouldn't stay here more than a week, but it was always nice to naively believe they could ever find permanent accommodations. Daryl took note of any gaps in the fences to be patched up tomorrow, then he turned on his heels to go back into the building.

As he was passing the row of garbage cans for the second time, he heard the sound again. It was like someone was trying to move the cans, but he couldn't see anything in the darkness.

He decided to pull out his miniature flashlight and shined it between the two cans. He could tell they were backed up to the fence, but there wasn't anything that appeared to be causing the sound. He felt the cool metal against his skin as he leaned in to get a better look.

He stuck his hand between the cans, shining the flashlight deeper into the crevice. He squinted against the bright light.

It was at the moment that he suddenly felt dead fingers wrap around the hand that was holding his flashlight. He pulled back roughly, bringing the walker through the hole it had found in the fence behind the cans and dropping his flashlight. The cans toppled over loudly, and the walker began to growl as it snapped at his face. His first instinct was to roll over, but the cans had both he and the walker pinned. He pushed up with all his might, keeping the walker at bay with his other hand. He could barely see and he knew there had been quite a few close calls, but he managed to wrestle himself free and grab his crossbow. His literal shot in the dark proved fatal as the moans at his feet stopped and he fell, tired, onto his back.

He felt hot tears stinging his eyes, as he frantically checked himself for bites and scratches. His search came back negative. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms and let out a laugh. While his eyes were closed, he saw the smiling face of a silver-haired woman. He laid there for another moment with his eyes closed and his hands on his face, holding on to the image. His heart raced faster, as though he were fighting off a second walker, but he knew he was in no danger.

"I get it now," he said to himself, "I get it." He placed his hands on either side of his hips, getting himself into a sitting position. He grabbed his crossbow and quickly made his way to the front door, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

"Daryl!" Rick called as his friend ran in the front, his shirt spattered in gore.

"Are you hurt?" Carl rushed in with Michonne, and they both were looking visibly concerned.

"I'm fine, took care of a walker," Daryl dropped his crossbow and pushed past his welcoming party, "Carol still upstairs?"

"Uh," Rick turned to follow Daryl, "yes, but don't you think you should clean up first? What happened? A walker?"

"Later." He took off up the stairs.

He checked for her in every room, calling out to her softly,

"Hey, Carol." He opened the last door in the upstairs hallway.

He was greeted with a small room, most likely an office, bathed in pale moonlight. The figure of a woman slumped over in a rocking chair was the first thing to catch his eye. He called out to her again and lightly touched her shoulder.

She had Judith pressed against her chest, nestled under a soft green blanket. They were both lightly snoring.

Daryl reached out for the child, but something stopped him. He caught his breath and stepped back from the sleeping pair.

It was as though the delicate light of the room had airbrushed away all of their hardships. Carol's face looked so pristine and her skin appeared milky white under gentle waves of silver hair. Her smooth lips were pressed into a slight smile to match the one present on the sleeping infant. He let himself sit on the window sill across from the dozing pair and he took in all that was before him. He tried to lose himself in the moment, forgetting everything that happened outside. He just wanted to keep everything the way it was now. Carol smiling, content, beautiful. Though, she would always be beautiful to him. He folded his hands and placed his elbows on his knees. There was a calm silence about these times that he enjoyed. He couldn't hear anything except for their breathing. He welcomed the absence of the noise the old world had offered. He didn't miss the car horns, or the sound of other people's homes. In this world, he felt he could be private. He remained with them in silence for what could have been an eternity, but eventually, his legs began to ache and he sighed. Once in a standing position, he approached the rocking chair, bending down to gently unwrap Carol's arms from around Judith. He gazed once more onto the sleeping face of his best friend, and he was grateful nothing happened outside that would have woken her. He was glad he didn't have to come to her with a bite. I'm glad I came back at all. His head was spinning, his heart began to race and he had to work to control his breathing. You're being a drama queen, Dixon, he thought, scolding himself for his behavior. He fought to bring himself back down to earth, but a tight knot had grown in his stomach. As he laid her hands back down onto her chest, he stood still with one hand holding onto hers. He felt he was leaving his body while he bent down further and let his lips brush her forehead. His shoulders trembled and he felt pins and needles rise up his legs. He pulled away, inhaling her scent and whispering,

"I love you."

As the last word left his mouth, he panicked and dropped her hand. She twitched a little, but remained asleep as far as he could tell. Not wanting to face whatever words she would have for him when she woke up, he quickly positioned Judith in the crook of his elbow and padded out of the room.

As it was later made clear to him, he had left too soon; too soon to see the smile on the "sleeping" woman's face grow just a little bit wider.

He greeted Rick in his room with a half-hearted grin, "Here's Jude." He robotically handed the sleeping bundle to her father and Rick gently kissed the top of her head. The gesture made Daryl flinch, and he went rigid with regret.

"Hey," Rick whispered, nodding his head in Daryl's direction, "what happened earlier?"

"Nothing special," Daryl chided and let his hand thump onto Rick's bicep, "Goodnight."

"Wait." Rick called out, softly, but Daryl kept walking. He placed his hand on the doorframe as he left, steadying himself.

"Have Michonne take my watch for me." He didn't bother to turn around, he was too embarrassed to face anyone in the state he was in.

He was lying to himself if he thought he was going to get any sleep that night. He propped himself up on his elbows in the small guest room he had claimed downstairs. Flipping his 'borrowed' pillow, he rolled over onto his other side, with his back away from the door and squeezed his eyes shut. Stupid, tha's what you are. He groaned at the thought of having to face Carol the following morning. She couldn't have heard him, he was so quiet…

He rolled onto his back and threw his right forearm across his face. Why'd I have to do it now? We're fightin', she's gonna get even more pissed at me.

"Fuck." He breathed.

His stomach dropped through the bed when he heard the sound of someone leaning against the doorframe. He felt a chilled sweat break out on his forehead, and it felt like an eternity until he managed to speak with his heavy tongue.

"H-how long?" He stammered at the door, his arm still hiding his face. He didn't want to acknowledge the person he knew was crossing her arms at him.

"How long, what?" Her voice didn't sound as angry as he had imagined it would be.

"How long have ya known?" He swallowed hard and peeked out from under his arm. She was standing inside the room now, her arms draped over her chest. She was getting defensive.

She started walking over to where Daryl was cowering, and he heard his heart pounding in his ears as she sat next to him.

"Sit up." She sat down on his left side and placed one hand on his back. He shuddered and she withdrew her hand, still keeping it close to his body.

Daryl sat up and swung his legs over so they were sitting next to eachother, and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She's smiling?

"Now," she leaned in closer to him, "what are you asking me?"

He looked at her, confused. What did she want him to say? He gathered all the little courage he had left and turned to face her, "How long have you known how I feel?"

She looked at him expectantly and he reworded his question, "H'long have you known that I love you?" He froze after the last word left his mouth, because she locked eyes with him. They were dark, serious, and it was not a good sign. He put his head in his hands and sighed heavily.

There was a long pause, but she made no attempt to leave.

"So," he mumbled, "what are you thinking?"

She fell backwards on his bed with a sigh, "Well, I think you're being very stupid," Ouch, "but I've always loved that about you."

He looked back to her face and wrinkled his brow, "Now what're you sayin'?" This woman was going to be the death of him, and he wasn't in the mood to let her flirting slide. She sat back up again and took both of his hands in hers.

"I don't know how long, but the feeling is mutual, Daryl." She smiled at him and he dropped his head again. She let go of one of his hands and cupped his face with her palm. Daryl warmed at her touch, and leaned his forehead against hers as they both closed their eyes.

Carol was just about to lean in when Daryl's mouth came crashing into hers, sending shockwaves up her jaw. She recoiled and her hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh God." she groaned, smiling despite her sore lips. Daryl laughed, rubbing his chin with the back of his hand.

"Draw any blood?" He asked, chuckling out of embarrassment.

"No, we're good," She stood up and walked him to the door with her, casually entwining their fingers, "so, I'll see you tomorrow?" He looked a little hurt and awkwardly slumped into the doorframe.

"Ain't gonna spend the night?" He tried to ask without getting flustered.

Carol widened her eyes in mock-surprise, and gently smacked his chest, "Mister Dixon! Well I never! After that?" She looked up at him and winked. She planted a softer kiss on his lips, lingering just long enough to know that they both wanted more.

"You're a tough one," she smiled against his mouth, "I think you'll be around for one more night." She winked at him, and he made a mental note to clear his schedule for the following evening.

With that, she left Daryl in that doorframe, and sauntered back upstairs for the night. He had thought of following behind her, taking her into his arms like some gallant prince, but that wasn't him.

You'll be back, he thought, leaving the door a jar just in case he was right. He kicked off his boots and flopped down onto the bed, grabbing at himself to see if he was dreaming. He smiled into the darkness, holding onto that kiss for as long as he was still awake that night.

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He came to in a broken-down Christmas store, his hands full of cheap ornaments that were probably made for pennies on the dollar in China, but all that mattered to him was the woman by his side. He looked to his left, to his constant, and marveled at how quickly their relationship had progressed after that night. His musings were interrupted by a sharp gasp next to him. He turned his head just in time to see Carol go tumbling forward, bringing her ornament boxes down with her.

"Oh, shit!" he tossed his boxes to the side and knelt down beside Carol who was lying amongst a pile of intact baubles and shiny shards of glass.

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" She took his hand and steadied herself with her other palm on the ground, "Oww." She grimaced as he grabbed both of her hands to help her into a standing position. He let her go as soon as she gave him a nod and his right hand pulled away wet with blood.

"Er, Carol?" he grabbed her hands once more and turned them over to find a minor cut down the inside of her left ring finger.

"Oh, that's not too bad," She winced as he tried to find the source of the bleeding, "we'll get me patched up, right?"

"Sure," Daryl led her back to their camp, "think I can patch it up."

They were greeted my Gabe and Carl while Judith ran around their camp spreading her arms like she was trying to take flight.

"Hey," Daryl laughed, "who spun her up?"

"Gabe," Carl immediately threw the former-preacher under the bus, "he brought back candy. Are you two alright?"

"Yeah," Daryl pushed past them into the office, Carol in tow, "mind picking up what's salvageable from the next aisle?"

Carl was about to open his mouth to ask what happened, but Judith came crashing into his legs, causing him to fall onto his bed-roll. He pushed Judith off of him and roared, and she ran rieking to the other edge of their alcove.

Daryl sat Carol down on a crate and turned her hand over in his palm, "I'll get some water for that." He stepped out and came back with a dark canteen. She winced as the lukewarm water ran into her cut and down her fingers, leaving a faint pink puddle at their feet.

"It's okay." Daryl held her other hand as he grabbed some iodine from one of their scavenged first aid kits and splashed a bit onto her finger. She clenched his hand tightly in her fist and gave him a pained smile.

"Hold on," he left her on the crate to go get a bandage, and she leaned her head back, breathing deeply, "Almost done." He came back with white gauze, some medical tape and a marker.

She sighed in relief as the pain in her finger subsided to a dull throb. Daryl taped off the gauze, but Carol couldn't help but notice that he still had the marker in his hand.

"Were you going to draw on me if I passed out?" She took back her hand and examined the wrappings; he had done a good job.

He chuckled a little bit and responded, "Jus' gimme your hand again." She obeyed and he drew a thin, black line around the circumference of the bandage, pausing just before completing the circle to draw a rectangle between the ends of the two lines.

"Tada." He capped the marker and let her examine what he had created.

"Oh," she was still perplexed at why he had chosen to draw a ring on her bandages, "Thanks."

"Are ya blind, woman?" he held her hand closer to her face, "Do ya need another hint?"

He stood the both of them up off of the ground and then stooped to one knee in front of her, "Carol," he began, the realization blossoming on her face, "will you be my wife?"

He stood up to be eye level with her and continued to talk, "I've always been yours, but I want Gabriel to make ya mine. I love you, Carol. Still do."

She smiled sweetly up at him, "Oh yes," she planted a quick kiss on his lips and he wrapped his arms around her, "but why now? I've always been yours, Daryl." He smiled at her lovingly and they swayed back and forth inside the small office.

He continued, "Guess I've been tryin'a let go of what was 'fore all this. I think we gotta make our own memories here - or at least try."

"And that's what you've been doing?" Carol placed her forehead against his, looking into his eyes.

"I'm tryin'." He leaned in to kiss her on the lips, allowing his hands to gently rest on her hips.

Whoops, it kind of became Fic-inception in here, didn't it? Caryl on my lovelies ;) I hope you all enjoyed! I am currently working on another fic that is a little darker. It's not like I'll ever get tired of the cavities that these fluffy fanfictions bring, but I just want to challenge myself. If you have made it this far, thank you and I appreciate your feedback as always!