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:

The hand at his shoulder had him flinching but not outright jerking away from the touch. It had caught him off guard as his mind reeled with thoughts of not having enough of anything to get back to the prison. Not enough ammo. Not enough time. There was likely not enough gas to be siphoned nor any water to be had to keep them from suffering sun stroke or dehydration.

Taking a long deep breath through his nostrils, his pacing ceased and his whirlwind attitude slowly deflated as he came down from his surge of anger. The hand at his cheek had almost quelled every bit of his outburst, fists still clenched tight in frustration. Slowly bobbing his head at her words, Daryl steps back and mumbles, "Okay." The quick hug took him aback, but he didn't push Carol away. He let his hand rest at the small of her back before dropping his hand and turns his head towards the indicated storage room.

The squeeze of her hand over his gave him a reassuring notion that perhaps they were simply checking the wrong area and so Daryl let go the fit of anger he'd let loose. He couldn't afford to make too much racket as they were still not in the clear of the herd of walkers that they'd just narrowly escaped.

Following in suit behind Carol, his fingers felt the handle, finger it before claiming it in his hand and drawing his buck-knife in defense in case something lunged out at them. The quick smile and the sudden chirp of her voice drew his attention to the door that they were coming to. Taking several quick steps in front of her, Daryl made for the door knob, glancing over towards her before bringing his other free hand. Holding up three fingers, he began curling them back as he slowly counted down.

When he hit one, he threw open the door and hurried through first. There was a long growl and a moan that echoed from a corner as he heard a clatter of things falling to the ground. With swift feet carrying him forth, he sunk his knife deep into the temple of the walker that had knocked down several cans. It fell with a thud as Daryl bent down to wipe the gore from his knife. Eyes peeling around to see if there was any other threat lurking about, he saw nothing else and glanced over towards Carol ensuring that she was fine.

Puffing out his cheeks at the surge of adrenaline, he bobbed his head a little before grabbing at the arms of the walker and dragging it out of their path and to the corner of the storage room. "Reckon we might find what we're lookin' fer here." He remarked pulling out a flashlight from his backpack and flicking it about.

Carol's POV:

Carol would have been annoyed at anyone else for getting between her and her intended destination, but she couldn't help but find it endearing. It made her feel special even though deep down in her heart, she knew he would put himself between any one of them and danger. She pursed her lips and gave a slight shake of her head. She knew it had nothing to do with the lack in faith of her own ability. It was just the kind of man that Daryl Dixon was. And it only made her love him more.

She watched as it felt like an eternity as his fingers slowly ticked down to none, and he wrenched the door open. He was a blur of motion as his knife sunk deep into the temple of the walker that was inside. She heard the clatter of cans as they scattered on the chipped tiled floor at their feet. It made her grip her knife tighter in her fist. She squinted trying to make out if there was anything else lurking in the dark.

She saw the slim line of the beam of his flashlight as he flicked it on and panned it around the room. She wrinkled her nose at the stale, musty smell of death that assaulted her senses. She pulled her shirt up over her nose and breathed that way for a few breaths before worming her way in beside him. She wished she had her own flashlight, but it was what it was.

"Think you might be right…" She bent down, reaching for a bottle of what she hoped was an unopened bottle of water and smiled when she moved it into the flashlight beam. She pushed it at him. "Here. I think there might be a few more if you want to shine the light this way." She bent low again, still holding the bottle out for him to take as she tried to make out what else was stacked on the floor.

The smell wasn't quite as strong now, and she let her shirt drop and tried to focus more on supplies than she did about how uncomfortable the darkness of the room made her. She did better in closed in spaces now than she would have at the start of all this mess, but small spaces and the dark were still hard. Especially after being trapped in that rest area bathroom all night.

She pushed her knife back into the sheath as he took the bottle of water and she managed to find her own. Twisting off the cap, she took several long drinks of water before she lowered it and relaxed a bit. Now gasoline would be their only cause for fear they'd not make it back to the prison, but she couldn't help but hold on to that little bit of hope that there would just enough.

"There might be enough stuff here to make a trip back once we hit a bigger cache of gasoline." When they didn't have to worry so much about running out, she thought quickly. "Pretty sure we can't fit much into our bags. They might just slow us down if we carried too much." She stood again, touching his arm with her fingers lightly, stroking her thumb across his sweaty skin.

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!