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!

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

Daryl:

There was a pause from his rant where Daryl didn't say anything. He just glowered at her with an unperturbed gaze listening to her speak. The brush of her hand at his arm slowly bringing him back, easing him out of that dark place in his mind that he sometimes crawled into. Her words slowly filling in the holes in his temper. The caress of her hand at his cheek— a welcoming feel. There was no flinching as she continued with the ministration and no outright refusal that the gesture was undesired either. He quietly accepted the touch.

A heavy sigh fell from his lips as he shut his eyes momentarily reflecting on all that had transpired between them. He hated how incredibly flippant he was. One moment he was calm and collected the next he could be a torrent of unbridled anger and mixed emotions. Daryl had said some nasty things to her doing his best to verbally hurt her, but found that incredibly difficult to do so even intentioned as it had been. It was never something he wanted to go out of his way to do. Crossing the line as he had, Daryl wanted to say them if she couldn't— didn't want to as one of them had to. There would be no more pussy-footing around the issue anymore. He'd fight with her if he had to.

He'd confessed that without Carol, he had no real merit amongst the others— that there had been no reason in continuing forth with them had it not been for her. Without her, he wasn't anything. He'd likely still be out there alone trying to survive and in a spinning rage. Hell, for all he knew, he could have already been dead in spite of what everyone thought of him being: a capable hunter and tracker. Just because he was didn't mean it would be at all possible to survive as long. He was only a single man. No one could do it alone anymore.

There were those words again. Can't lose you too. They echoed loud in his ears— same choked note. The muscle in his jaw stiffened and his lips pursed at the reminiscence that reverberated through the room. Of course it had been under far less appealing circumstances, but a scenario of similar events. Back then, Daryl didn't understand what she had meant. They'd only talked a small handful of times before that and to him it was just words rolling off his back. Reckoned it was Carol wanting him as her anchor since she didn't have nobody then. Neither of them did. However, the statement held more water this time around. More was at stake than just losing a valuable ally. No— they were more than that now.

When she confirmed what he had been so unsure of, he felt a small weight lifted from off his shoulders. The tightness that had settled around his heart, lessened from out of his chest and he felt his breaths become regulated… Steady. His breathing had been somewhat hindered by the tautness of muscle constricting itself around his heart and lungs. A manifestation of his tumultuous tangle of emotions. The breath that had been stuck in his throat was let loose and it's rapid beat came to a slow.

Grinding his teeth a little, jaw working itself back and forth as he contemplated her words, Daryl met her eyes, his steel on her pale blues. She was being completely honest as she always was. That glint in her eye; flicker of hope was what held him fast in the present. Her walls had been torn down a long time ago and she was letting him pass unscathed.

At the mention of his scars, he stood rigid swallowing the thick spit in his mouth. Her constant reminder of the scars adorned along his body were not warranted but he supposed he deserved it. Daryl had drilled into her pretty harshly and he could stand to deal with a singular comment of the abuse he had suffered for years.

Knitting his brows in a piqued curiosity, eyes drawn away from her face, Daryl finally found his voice— speaking up. "Then what kinda man am I?" He croaked out in a gravelly tone, hands still balled into fists at his sides. He felt his grip loosen and his fingers begin to fidget unsure of what he wanted to do with them.

He was enticed to want to touch Carol but refrained as he didn't know what he was doing or why he felt a sudden need to want to touch her. Perhaps it was because of his bold words and that final step that had sent his worries floundering in the dark. Perhaps it was because of the things that they could hide from one another in the dark that he felt that compulsion to let linger his hand at her cheek as he had earlier. The warmth of her skin at his fingertips.

What did he know anyhow? He'd never had a woman like this before. Tender touches and gentle words. It was all too foreign and unfamiliar.

Taking another step forward he backed Carol back into the wall again finding his hand pressed flat against the cool cement surface once more. "If yer makin' yer choices alone… How can I trust ya?" He asked feeling like the question begged to be asked. It would be when they returned home. "'Cause I ain't never done what y'did. What makes y'think I can trust ya? Carol?" Punctuating the end of his sentence with her name. He had to get her attention. Make her listen to him. This one thing still bothered him and it had to be addressed. He wanted this ease of mind. Not for himself. For the both of them.

Carol:

She tilted her head slightly. Eyes forever searching his as she did so. Her lips parted more, sucking in a quick breath, letting it fill her lungs, and slowly releasing it. "A man of honor. A man to be trusted to do the right thing above all else. A man that puts the person first regardless of indiscretions…" Her hand had turned then, running her knuckles along his cheek bone, then turn again to rub along his jaw and feel his scruff against them. It sent shivers up and down her very spine. She remembered how they tickled her face when she kissed him. Her other hand curled into a ball and released over and over, desperate to put her hands on him. Yet, she didn't want to overwhelm him.

He was in her space. Her mind was dizzy and starting to get fuzzy as the smell of him hit her nose and caused her eyes to close slowly at the feel of him. Then she was being pushed back a step or two, back flush against the wall. This time her first instinct was to accept whatever actions that he would throw her way, but his lips didn't press against her. He didn't touch her in any way other than the slight brush of his chest against her. She was painfully aware of his arm close to her. She ached to pushed into him, force contact and reaction, but his words stilled whatever movement she'd been about to take.

Her eyes, now open, lifting up and locking on his. Trust. That's what this all boiled down to. And she knew she deserved it. She'd made choices for the whole group. Choices and actions that while they could be forgiven, could be learned from, they could never be erased. She swallowed hard, feeling the lump stay in its place in her throat, making speech impossible. She tried again. "It's me, Daryl…"

She moved the hand from his cheek down to lay over his heart, thumb making slow circles against it. "I can't take back what I did. I'll never be able to make it right…" She lowered her eyes to rest on her hand at his chest, then slowly moved them back up and whispered, "but I made a mistake. I was wrong to do what I did. They didn't deserve that. Not from me. Not from anybody." She let the weight of that settle in her own gut for a few painful moments as the memory of her actions replayed in her head.

"I'll never do that again. Take on something bigger than me, bigger than all of us…" Tears filled her eyes and one slid down her cheek. "I don't expect you to trust me, Daryl. You know I don't, but all I got is my word that you won't have to worry about this ever again. I'm not the woman I was two days ago. I won't ever be her again." Her hand shook slightly, wishing for that stone he'd so adamantly been holding and stroking so she could be calm, so she could feel like she wasn't too lost.

"I won't ever do anything to hurt us, our group…ever again." The last words were rushed. She felt as if she would explode if she didn't get them out of her throat. She looked to him. The anxiety slipped and slid up her spine, boiled in her gut, and hung there waiting for his reaction, his punishment for her crimes.

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!