This started out as a role play between myself (gunslingerdixon) and my Carol rp partner untapdtreasure (nolongeraxburden), and it was mutually decided upon to share with the rest of FF as a fanfiction. So here it is! Enjoy!

If y'all are interested in following us just go to: nolongeraxburden. tumblr .com or gunslingerdixon. tumblr .com

Also: we own nothing in regards to The Walking Dead. All rights belong to the copyright holder.

Daryl:

When she spoke again, he barely caught it but he could have sworn it was an indication of herself. He frowned slightly not sure why she should be afraid of herself. Did she not trust that she could do the right thing? That she wasn't perhaps fit for the group anymore? What was it that she was so afraid of that she wouldn't allow herself to come back home?

Home.

Such an odd phrasing coming from him. He'd called it a tomb where only horrible memories of those were lost to them within its walls. Too many lives lingering about like a death knell just waiting, snapping at their heels. And in spite of the lives they had saved, bringing in the non-essential to the Governor from Woodbury to the Prison, death still heavily lingered. Lives had just been lost with most if not all of D-Block gone… Later to only find two others had been killed, drug from their beds and then burned to nothing— ashes to ashes.

In an instant something snapped inside of Daryl and he whirled on her taking several steps into her personal space. It wasn't thinking back on the murders that sprang a fire inside of him. It was something else he couldn't quite place his finger on. It just made him set sights on her like he'd done when she came through his camp back at the farm. "You think yer the only ones with problems with yerself? Huh? News flash: everyone's got 'em. Can't deal with 'em, well too fuckin' bad." He growled not sure where this was all coming from still. He felt like a torrent of anger just churning about in his gut and having no physical means of letting it out. His fists were clenching and unclenching, nails digging deep into his palms. He knew he was being loud and likely walkers were being drawn to their place at the side of the road but it didn't matter.

Daryl was mad. He was mad that he didn't have a say in any matter that decided her banishment. He was mad that she hadn't trusted him enough to come to him. He was mad that she had flat out lied to him when she had claimed she was okay. He was mad at Rick. Mad at Carol. Mad that him coming here did nothing but make him regret bothering with caring for others. Mad at everything that could possibly stand in his way. Everything just pissed him off even more and he wanted nothing more to do with anything. Part of him even thought if she simply went away that maybe the sting would ease up and his gut would stop this unbelievable roiling pain— maybe. But that was so far from the truth and he knew it.

His fingers found their way into his hair, heels of his hands pressed deep into the hollows of his eyes blocking out everything as he paced in irritation. Finally he stopped and he dropped his hands to his side. Daryl's steel gaze fell on Carol's and for a moment he felt sad, even regret, like everything he had given to want to help fix her was crumbling at his feet. Daryl dropped his head not looking at her. "Go. I don't want ya here." He mumbled low under his breath, not entirely sure if she heard him or not… Unsure of whether he wanted her to hear him. If she simply went away… Then she would be just like everyone else that came into his life… She wouldn't be the only exception. She wouldn't and he knew she couldn't be. Not anymore.

Carol:

Carol's eyes widened. It was the only indication that she'd been surprised at his anger. The only tell that she would ever give him. Her hands remained down at her sides, ready to take whatever he had coming at her. She'd take it and then some from him. They both knew it. She wasn't afraid of him. She could never be afraid of someone she trusted with her very life. With her very abused, emotional heart. The same very heart that he had a hand in putting back together after it was shattered with the loss of Sophia.

She wanted in that moment to reassure him that she'd come back, that things would return to normal. That they'd be just like they'd always been, but how could she? How could she when so much had changed? She had changed. Daryl had changed. Rick had changed. She opened her mouth to speak, to agree with him. They all had their problems, and owning them was something she'd never had a problem with. Until now. Until this. This all felt like a very bad dream that she just couldn't wake from. She tried pinching her sides, to no avail. This was real. It was happening.

Then his words hit her. Hard. At first, she couldn't do anything but stare openly in bewilderment. He hadn't spoken to her like that in over a year. Then she blinked, letting the realization wash over her. He was fighting with his feelings. His feelings concerning her, and because she had refused to let him swoop in like her knight on a white horse and take her home, he was lashing out. He was throwing a temper tantrum the only way he knew how. By saying the things he knew would hurt her the most.

Her heart thundered. She could turn, slip into that station wagon and drive away. Not even look back. She could do it. She probably should for all the hell and grief she was going to get when he pulled up with her and drove back through those prison gates. But she couldn't. Not after all the stories they'd shared of him growing up with Merle. How Merle had always left. How his mother had died when he was young. How there hadn't even been a body for him to say goodbye too. People always left.

She'd left.

But not of her own freewill. Not of her own choice. She'd been banished out here in the cold, hard world where at the next turn could certainly mean death or worse. She could meet up with someone that thought it would be nice to use your body for his own personal play thing. And Carol knew the thought had crossed his mind as he'd been out there looking for her.

She closed her eyes, taking a step forward then. "Bullshit," she said, holding her own. She clenched her fists at her sides, watching this angry, broken man before her. She wasn't about to be the one that walked away. Not when he was giving so much of himself to her in that moment without even knowing it. Everyone else could walk away. Everyone else had.

But she couldn't. Not freely. She moved into his space, watching him. Challenging him to take a step back. To move away from her. Wasn't this what he wanted? Didn't he want her to want him back? And hadn't she for as long as she could remember? Hadn't she been the one to flirt and be open with how she felt, and hadn't he always fought back and put the distance between then.

Not tonight. Tonight it was do or die.

She moved right up against him, pressing her chest against his. They were so close that the smell of sweat and dirt and whatever else that made up that intoxicating smell that was all Daryl Dixon tickled her nose. That smell was home to her. It ignited parts of her she'd long since forgotten about. Her hands were on his hips now.

"Take me home."

Please review and let us know what you thought! Cheers!

*Note: This is also not 100% written by myself. I owe a lot of credit to my wonderful partner as she is Carol and does a phenomenal job. Send her some love too at untapdtreasure here at FF!