Cause of this week's episode I wanted something like Carol looking at his scars and touching them. I hope you enjoy!

Carol's head was in a whirl. She was sure he had said it. So sure. But it could have been all in her head. She could have dreamt it all and made it all up but, at the same time, she was sure she hadn't. When she woke up as the sun rose in the sky, he regarded her with a sleepy smile and a squeeze on her shoulder where his hand had been resting all night.

"Mornin'," he yawned.

Carol smiled up at him. "Morning." She thought. "Daryl..."

"What?" he asked, frowning at her.

She paused and considered what she was about to ask. What if she had made it up and then it made things awkward? Or, alternatively, he could feel embarrassed for saying it in the first place.

"Never mind," she decided, settling back on his chest.

His hand brushed up her arm again and she felt his head rest back against the pillow. Carol felt content for a moment until she heard arguing downstairs. Daryl lifted his head and sat up again. They both looked towards the door feeling very reluctant to move.

"Why can't we stay here?" Andrea cried. "We've got a nice thing going. And you're still bruised from Woodbury!"

"It's been one night," Rick shot back. "We need to go again. We're cornered here!"

There was a pause and Carol turned her head to look at Daryl who seemed very uneasy. She knew he wanted a rest from running too and she sure as hell didn't want to leave this house just yet. Someday, maybe, when they had to leave. Now, no way.

"And it could be more nights for a while!" Andrea replied, as if reading Carol's mind. "We have food and warmth and even protection!"

Another pause.

"One more night. We leave tomorrow."

Daryl sighed next to Carol and fell back on the mattress. She turned to look at him but he had his eyes closed and an unreadable expression on his face.

"It's okay, we'll find somewhere else," she said, lying back down next to him.

"Mm hmm. After how long?"

"Well-"

"All I wanna do is keep ya safe," he said, sitting up again.

Carol looked up at him and smiled. She was so grateful to have this man in her life.

"You do," she replied, stroking his cheek once with her thumb. "You're a great man, Daryl."

He snorted but then looked back at her and his expression became serious.

"Y'know... last night, I-"

"DARYL!"

"Damn it," he cursed in response to Rick's shout. "We should go down."

"Go for it," she said, grinning cheekily.

He chuckled and started to pull on his boots. Secretly, Carol felt deflated. What had he been about to to say? As she pulled on her own boots, she was scared. What if they had to leave tomorrow? Carol really didn't want another eight months travelling, barely sleeping or eating. But she supposed she'd have to get used to it again. As long as she was with Daryl, she didn't care what happened.

...

"What do you think?" Rick asked, spreading out a map on the kitchen table.

Daryl shrugged. "When we leavin'?" he asked, pretending he hadn't heard the argument from before.

"Tomorrow."

"Why?"

Rick glanced at him. "It's not safe here. I have to keep Carl safe. I promised Lori-" He paused. "I promised I'd keep him safe. I can't do that in a cornered house."

"You'll leave a house to spend another eight months on the road?"

Rick straightened up. "What I say goes."

After a long silence and a stare, only broken by Andrea entering the room cautiously, Rick tore his eyes away from Daryl and focussed back on the map. Daryl felt his anger rising to the surface so, instead of punching the man in the jaw (which was what he needed, Daryl thought), he stormed out of the room and up the stairs. His hand was resting on the door to their room when he saw the attic door above him to his right. Pulling the chord, a ladder unraveled to his feet so he climbed.

Once he was inside, he found that the attic was quite spacious despite the dust coating the place and the only light in the room came from a small window. He ran his hands along trunks whilst spider webs and dust glued to his fingers. There were old books too, ones that he thought Carol would like. Daryl picked one up and wiped the cover. It was by someone called Agatha Christie but the cover was colourful and it was a crime novel so he hoped she'd appreciate it. His thought of a surprise for her was then ruined as her head poked up into the attic room.

"Daryl?"

"C'm'ere and shut that behind ya."

She obeyed and walked towards him. He held out a book and then dropped to his knees to observe other ones so he could disguise the pleased smile that had crossed his face. Her small laugh brought his attention back to her face and he saw her smile sweetly at the book in her hands.

"Thank you, Daryl."

"S'okay."

Carol sat down next to him and placed the book on the floor. She fixed him with her gaze, still smiling.

"I meant it las' night," he blurted out. Instantly he knew his statement had caught her off guard. "But... If you don't... I mean-" He looked around, praying that she would change the subject.

"Daryl," she laughed, cutting him off. "I do." There was a moment of silence until she turned her head back to the door then faced him again with a grin. "We're alone."

"Nice obser-"

But he was quickly cut off as her hands grabbed either side of his face and she leant forward on her knees. Their lips crushed together but he steadied them both before holding her waist and pushing back up. For once, he wanted to be in complete control. So, taking advantage of her position over him, he twisted around and carefully lowered her down onto the floor with one hand on the small of her back and the other one balancing him. He did so in one swift movement and without breaking the kiss so now he came to rest on top of her. Daryl felt her hands run down his face, further down his chest and then stop and hang onto his hip bones. Her hands were soft and gentle and he broke away for just a second so he could glance at her face to check. The expression took him by complete surprise and he didn't need to look again. She was expecting him to continue.

His hands drifted up her top then down her sides and he dragged his lips down from her own to her neck. The skin was smooth and pale and was so easy to get lost in. Then her own hands crept up his shirt and further up his back. She stopped. He realised what happened and he opened his eyes to see her gazing at him.

"Daryl-"

"They're... Er... I know..."

...

Carol glanced down and then back up to his face. His eyes were closed and he almost looked ashamed. They both sat up.

"Can I see them?" she whispered, after a pause.

The look she was met with showed hesitation and she was scared that maybe this time she'd pushed it too far. But then, giving her a slight nod, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. She saw the tattoos on his chest and on the inside of his right bicep and then he turned to face away from her. There were other tattoos but none were as big as the scars he carried on his back. Carol had only caught part of one before, back at the barn when he was lying in his bed under a blanket, but that was nothing compared to this. They were large and dark red in colour- nearly purple- and covered the entirety of his lower back. There were others too. Burn marks and random little scratches dotted everywhere.

"Daryl," she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

There was no response and she couldn't see his face so, moving very slowly, her fingertips graced down his scars slowly and very gently. She felt him flinch under her touch at first but then he relaxed and sighed. Once she finished tracing over the last one, she stopped and brought her arms around his middle and hugged him into her, clasping her hands together at his abdomen.

"You're so brave," she whispered. He dragged an arm across his eyes and then a hand settled on her own. "I love you."