AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

"Sophia wasn't mine!"

He regretted it the moment the words came out of his mouth. He doesn't even know why he said them; he was just angry and upset and he wanted her to go away and give him some space. He didn't even know the little girl that well but he had never felt like this, never thought he would feel like a father. He cared about her so much, like she were his own he had brought into the world, and all his fault that she had been taken out of it.

He trembled in the corner of his space on Hershel's farm, trying to calm himself down as dawn began to filter through the trees. Guilt had been eating him alive all night, so much that he couldn't sleep. He had to apologize somehow. Carol had probably been like him her whole life; back against the wall, never enough time to show her emotions, so much it was difficult for her to do so, even now. He ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the Sun peeking through the trees.

He had to take it back somehow, he had to make it better. He wasn't really sure how to do that, but he had to try. He had to fix it, and make it better, he had to be there for her in any way he could and suck it up. For a few days now, he had avoided her. When they had the meeting about the kid they had brought in as a prisoner, he had immediately been the first one to leave the house to keep Carol from trying to talk to him, ignoring her at all costs.

Today, the guilt was consuming him and he knew he had to stop. He set out to hunt while waiting for the group to rouse, bringing back a few squirrels and a lucky catch of a deer. He stepped out of the woods gracefully, heading for where they had primarily set up camp, placing his line down, weaving through to look for Carol. He ended up running into Dale, who was getting out of the RV. "Where's Carol?"

Dale gave him a look before smiling warmly, saying softly as he patted Daryl on the shoulder, "In the RV. You can go in and wait for her if you want."

Daryl nodded, shying a bit at the touch but murmuring, "Thank you." He clambered up the steps into the RV and leaned against the wall next to the door into the back of the van, patiently waiting for her to come out. When he heard the door softly open, he watched her slip out like a field mouse, his eyes following her.

She stopped in the doorway, eyeing him, asking after a moment, "Did you come here to yell at me again?"

Daryl shook his head, a lump in his throat, searching for the words to say. He didn't think he'd get this far. He shuffled his feet, and she just looked down, turning away. He caught her by the shoulder, spinning her around to face him, his eyes wide and desperate now, blurting out, "I'm so sorry, I... I want to take back what I said. I just, I... I didn't mean it, Sophia, I thought, I wanted- I- I just... I mean- well..."

Carol raised her hand suddenly and he stopped talking, taking a step back, expecting her to reprimand him. Her face softened, taking a step forward to balance it, reaching out to touch his arm. He didn't flinch for once, too entranced by her eyes, never once looking away. He swallowed hard again, his heart pounding in his chest, waiting for something, anything. "I understand. It was the first time you had responsibility. You felt like she was hers. You did what a father would do. More than her own did. Don't blame yourself."

This time, Daryl looked down at the floor, unable to explain he would never be able to forgive himself for not finding her in time. He puffed out his cheeks childishly for a long moment before whispering, "I do want you here. I'm sorry for yelling. My brother, he just, he told me that nobody... and he's not... and I need you here..."

When he trailed off again, she gripped his wrist, and this time he stiffened a little but quickly relaxed when he recognized she meant it sympathetically. She met his eyes, and though he normally had trouble making eye contact, he found he couldn't look away, saying in a calm, level tone, though she teared up a little, "I don't plan on going anywhere. I will get stronger. We can make it, together."

He suddenly grasped her hand, letting a little vulnerability show as he repeated, "Together?"

"Together."

A twitch of a smile found his lips, murmuring, "Okay... I'm here for you."

"Thank you," she replied, a small smile coming to her lips for the first time since her daughter had died. "But I want to thank you for what you did."

"What do you-" He cut off when her lips found his cheek, frowning. He touched his cheek when she moved away, a faint blush on his cheeks, before brushing it off. "We'll be okay again."

She nodded, looking down before looking back up at him. "We will. Go on. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah."

Little did they know, in a few days he'd rescue her on his motorcycle in the pitch black, allowing her arms around his waist, keeping her safe from everything, making the turns, determined to get her out alive. He had waited, knowing she would come to him. When they were out of danger's way, he turned his head to meet her eyes, saying with what she could have sworn was affection in his voice, "Together."

AN: Merry Christmas Eve from America everyone!