That night, Daryl sat in his usual spot, watching the room and glaring at the Woodbury residents who thought it would be ok to come and attempt a conversation with him. His eyes kept going back to Carol. She seemed much happier now that Sophia had been remembered. She was talking with Tyreese, laughing at his jokes and touching his arm.

Daryl's jaw tightened as Tyreese gave her a hug and whispered something in her ear. Carol burst out laughing, breaking the hug but still within touching distance. He'd never seen Carol laugh like that and it was stirring up a feeling in his stomach. He couldn't put a name to it but felt an awful lot like...jealousy?

No!

Daryl didn't do jealous. He did angry, mad, grumpy, scary but never jealous. And it wasn't like he and Carol were a thing. Sure they were friends but that was it. That was all he wanted, right? Just to be friends.

Rick looked up from his plate of stew, his eyes immediately locking onto the hunter. Daryl had calmed down a lot over the past few months but his brother's death had flared up some of the old Daryl and Rick liked to keep an eye on him. Just to be safe.

At least that's what he told himself. Just to be safe.

He took in Daryl, running an eye over him. His jaw was locked and the muscle in his cheek was ticking away angrily. He was bristling with an unspoken rage. Rick's eyes followed Daryl's glare and saw what the problem was. Carol and Tyreese. The pair seemed to be flirting and chattering away happily, oblivious to Daryl's icy glare. Rick stood up and joined Daryl on his step.

"Glenn and Maggie want to have their weddin' some time next week. We should probably get some liquor for the ocassion, it is a celebration. So we need to make a few runs, would you be up to that?" Rick drawled, capturing Daryl's attention. Rick shifted his stance subtly so he blocked Daryl's view of Carol.

"I can do that," Daryl muttered distracted. He was craning his neck to try and see Carol. Rick folded his arms across his chest and stared at Daryl until their eyes finally met. Daryl nodded at him before standing up and disappearing up the stairs to his cell. Rick went back to his table and joined Herschel, Maggie and Glenn's conversation about the wedding.

Daryl didn't go to his cell, instead he went to the walkway that surrounded the common area, looking down on the people below. He stayed low and kept to the shadows as he stalked around until he was within earshot of Carol and Tyreese's conversation.

"Carol girl, you look exhausted. I'll take your guard duty tomorrow, let you get some rest. Hell knows you could use it." Tyreese chuckled, looking at Carol intently, his hand cupping her cheek and his thumb running over the bags beneath her eyes. Daryl held back a growl in his throat.

Carol looked up at Tyreese, batted her eyelashes and smiled, "I could kiss you. That is so sweet." She leant up, on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek before stretching and murmuring something about going to bed. Tyreese looked after her as she disappeared into her cell. Daryl backed away from the railing until his back was pressed against the wall. He pulled his knees up to his chest and tried to stop the hurt exploding in his chest.

Why was he feeling like this?

"It ain't nice is it?" A voice came from the shadows. Carl appeared and slumped next to Daryl, "It ain't nice when someone steals your woman."

"I don't know what you're talkin' bout." Daryl shrugged, side-eyeing the teen. Carl had changed drastically. He was no longer the annoying, innocent school boy. He was now a bona-fide killer. He took walkers down like he couldn't care less. He had shot his mom and hated the Woodbury residents.

"C'mon man, don't fuck with me. I've seen the way you look at her." Carl snapped. Daryl stood up and glared down at the boy.

"You have no idea." Daryl murmured before going back to his cell and collapsing on his bunk, the struggle of the day catching up with him. His head hurt, his chest hurt, his leg hurt but most of all his heart hurt.

He rolled over and drifted off into a light sleep. Daryl couldn't normally just drop off but the day had worn him down and he gave in to pure exhaustion.

"Daddy it weren't me, I swear!" A 8 year old Daryl screamed at the man towering above him, "I didn't scratch your truck!" His father, Cooper Dixon was a bull of a man, with a beer belly and tufts of matted hair under his arms. He was often seen wearing a dirty vest, stained with beer and vomit. Ever since his wife had died last year he had become worse. He beat his sons frequently and for the tiniest of thing.

He glared at the runt of a boy cowering before him before raising his boot and stomping down on the boy's bare foot, crushing the toes. Daryl screamed in pain as the bones in his foot cracked. A huge hand smashed into his cheek, whipping Daryl's head to the side, blood and spittle splashing the walls. Cooper yanked the belt from his pants and kicked his son in the back of the leg, knocking him to the ground.

"Don't lie to me ya little fucker!" Cooper roared and brought the buckle of the belt down on Daryl's back, tearing the skin and drawing blood. He ignored his son's cries as he whipped his son continuously, his vision tinted red and the anger surging through him. He stopped once a dull ache had settled in his shoulder. He glared at his sniffling boy and waited.

The pain was too much. His cries and pleas for his Daddy to stop this pain, fell on deaf ears. Daryl's tears streamed down his face and dropped onto the carpet under him. His arms shook as he tried to push himself up from the ground. His pyjama shirt was sticking to his back and he knew it was his blood that was running down his arms. He blinked black spots from his eyes as he managed to get himself on all fours.

Cooper's foot smashed into Daryl's belly, forcing the air out his lungs and causing him to retch against the wall. Cooper grabbed the neck of Daryl's shirt and dragged him down the hall, kicked open the basement door and dragged his son into the basement, not caring that he was scraping his son's bare feet on the concrete. Daryl was crying and begging, "Please Daddy, not the freezer, please, please. Not the freezer."

The big chest freezer was a dull white and not used. Or for the right purposes. Cooper hoisted the lid up and bundled Daryl into it, slamming the door down. He locked the lid down, using a big padlock and a huge chain.

Daryl banged against the lid, his finger nails scratching at the walls and lid, trying to break free. His screams echoed around the small space. He smashed his foot against the side. He banged his fists against the lid. After a while he gave up, knowing it was no use and his Dad would free him in his own time. He studied the claw marks along the side of the freezer and the roof, before examining his torn knuckles and jagged nails as best as he could in the dark.

He lay in a pool of his own blood for what seemed like an eternity before he heard the front door crashing open and then the yelling began.

"Hey baby brother...Where the fuck is he? Did you lock him in the fuckin' freezer again?" It was Merle's voice. Merle would come and get him.

"The little fucker needed to be punished, scratchin' my truck like he did." Cooper roared and it sounded like he punched the wall. Something slammed against the wall and he knew it was Merle shoving Cooper.

"You touch him again, I'll fuckin' kill ya!" Merle's voice bellowed before he heard footsteps coming down the steps, slowly getting louder as he drew closer. There was a clicking noise and clanking metal then the lid was opened and Merle's hand scooped him up, lifting him out the box and giving him a hug.

Daryl buried his face in his brother's shoulder, sniffling and trying to stop the tears falling. Merle put him down and lifted up his shirt, looking at the fresh wounds on his back. Merle's jaw tightened and he ground his teeth together as he saw the shredded skin and the congealing blood. He dropped the shirt and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Let's get you cleaned up, eh?" He said gruffly before leading the way up the stairs and into the bathroom. Cooper stood in the doorway, blocking their way out of the basement. Merle looked at him before shoving him out the way and continuing to go up to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and waited for Daryl to get in and have a quick shower. While Daryl washed the blood off his back, occasionally whimpering when the water stung his wounds, Merle turned to the medicine cabinet and found antiseptic and some bandages.

When Daryl got out and had some pants on, Merle murmured, "This might hurt," And sprayed the anti-septic in the wounds before layering bandages on the worst of the wounds. Merle then led his brother to his room and put him to his bed, pulling the duvet up around him.

"Merle?" Daryl's voice was laced with sleepy and his eyes were drooping.

"What?" Merle asked, standing up and running a hand through his hair.

"Don't leave me alone with him again." Daryl whimpered.

"I won't, I'll always be here. Now get some sleep, baby brother." Merle smiled and watched as the younger boy rolled over and drifted to sleep.

When Daryl woke up, Merle had gone.

Daryl jerked awake. He was covered in sweat and had lots of thin, red scratches up his arms and face. He must have scratched himself when he was asleep, presumably during his attempts to escape the freezer. He sat up so fast he banged his head on the bed above.

"Fuck." He groaned and rolled out of bed. He pulled his boots on and left his cell. He glanced out the window that was filtering weak sunlight. It looked to be dawn but he couldn't be sure. He stalked out the common room and into the courtyard.

"Back off, Beth's my girl!" He heard a young voice shout. It was Nathan, the boy from Woodbury.

"You haven't got a chance, she doesn't know you. You know nothin' bout her." Carl sneered. Daryl saw Carl and Nathan arguing in the middle of the courtyard. Tyreese and Rick were in the guard towers, not really paying attention to the squabbling children.

"Hah, I have more of a chance with her. I'm 19, you're what? 12? Keep dreamin' kid, keep dreamin'." Nathan hissed.

"I'm 14, fuckwit!" Carl bit out. His hand itched towards his holster. It was a small gesture, probably one that Nathan didn't see but Daryl saw it. Nathan pushed Carl in the chest, "What did you call me? You best learn some respect."

"Kiss my ass." Carl snorted and shoved Nathan back. A look of anger flitted across the older boy's face and he shoved his black hair out his eyes before tackling the smaller boy, knocking his hat off. Carl managed to punch the older boy before scrambling back to give himself some space. Nathan lunged again but Carl dodged and used that to his advantage. He tackled Nathan and they fell over a bench, crashing into the concrete, punching each other.

Daryl sighed to himself before walking over to the fight. He barged inbetween the pair and grabbed each one by their ear. He was pleased by the chorus of 'Ow's,' that happened. He allowed the kids to get to their knees, still holding their ears, standing in the middle of them. He looked at each of them before a picture stuck in his mind. Rick had left the tower and was coming over.

"What the hell is goin' on here?" Rick demanded.

"He started it!"

"He called me a fuckwit!"

"He says Beth is his girlfriend but she ain't." Carl protested.

"She is, I am the most likely choice." Nathan argued. Daryl gave a firm tug to their ears, causing them to shut up.

"Right, I know for a fact, Beth ain't anyone's girlfriend. Let Beth choose if she wants to date either of you, it's her choice, not yours." Rick growled before storming off back to the guard tower. Daryl snorted, stifling a laugh.

"What?" Carl demanded indignantly.

"Huh, nothin'. I was just thinkin' if we were in prison, you'd be my bitches." He chuckled before adding, "And we are in prison." He released the boys and made his way over to his bike. He climbed aboard just as the door to the cell block opened and Carol came out, cradling Judith in her arms. She spotted Daryl and waved at him, a smile erupting on her face.

Daryl stared back at her, his heart heavy in his chest. He revved his engine as Carol started to come over to him, her smile fading as she got closer, as the thundery look on Daryl's face became more obvious.

"Carl open the gates!" Daryl yelled.

"Hey Daryl," Carol murmured from beside him, "You goin' on a run? Let me just go put Judith down and I'll come with you."

"No you won't." Daryl growled and pulled away from her, speeding down the yard and into the open road. His heart ached but he didn't look back, didn't look back as a sorry or even acknowledge her. He sped away, hoping to leave his thoughts and aching heart behind.

Of course he failed.

A/N: I'm sorry if this chapter isn't up to the usual standard, I've been distracted today and quite sad. As most of you probably know, Cory Monteith sadly passed away on Saturday, and I found out today.

I'm a big gleek (Random fact) so was shocked and greatly upset when I woke up and found out one of my idols had died.

So I would like to dedicate this chapter to Cory, a very talented person who was taken far too young. My thoughts and prayers go out to his family, fellow Gleeks, his glee family and especially Lea. She was meant to be planning a wedding, now she's planning a funeral :'(

Drop a review below, I accept all comments, critique and suggestions but no hate please, it will only make me feel worse.