Hotline

by SamiWammy

Hello : ) This is a series of one-shots based around Carol and Daryl. I am taking requests so content will vary from smut to emotional romance, horror, humor, you name it! If you want to see it happen, just send a PM. I'm a Caryl shipper through and through and I can't wait to see all the ideas you guys have for our favorite couple. Enjoy! 1st chapter is smut!

9. Shelter

Hello again! I can't thank you guys enough for all the love for that last chapter! The reviews really do mean a lot : ) I want to revisit that universe at some point so stay tuned! This chapter is a request from Peonies01 who has always been so sweet and supportive : ) She wanted to see some post-mid-season-finale angst with Daryl and Carol that leads to them opening up and connecting. I was very much inspired by episode 5x10 (that adorable forehead kiss!) so think lots of feels with a nice pay-off ; ) This is a true one-shot. Enjoy! xoxo

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead…if I did, there would be fewer clothes ;)

Chapter 9: Shelter

He couldn't remember how long they'd been walking. It seemed like days, but it could've been hours...not that it mattered. As the sun climbed higher in an empty sky, its rays beating down on their backs, Daryl realized that nothing mattered anymore. They could keep walking, surviving…put a little distance between themselves and the corpses that staggered after them, but it wouldn't make a difference. Sooner or later, they'd run out of road…or water. He didn't care which came first. A plastic bottle hung from his belt and he knew there wasn't enough liquid inside to get his lips wet.

Don't matter…

The survivors continued on their trek, their feet shuffling, dragging on the asphalt. Their boots were scuffed, caked with red mud and dirt. They were silent. The only sound came from the walkers that had been following about fifty meters behind for the last few miles. Even Judith was quiet; the hungry child swaddled against her brother's chest…her lips pouting and her cheeks red. None of them made eye contact. Their mouths were set in thin lines; their eyes on the empty road that seemed to stretch on endlessly in front of them. The afternoon was heavy and still. There wasn't a single breath of air to stir the tree branches overhead or disturb the brown pine needles blanketing the road. Daryl hefted the bow on his back and forced himself to keep walking. He could feel drops of sweat slipping from the ends of his hair, traveling down his back, making his shirt cling to him.

In the periphery of his vision, the hunter could see his companions; Rick walked just ahead of the others, a rifle clutched tightly in his hands. Daryl suspected that the deputy was the only thing driving the survivors forward. He was their leader, and they had no choice but to follow him. The man was relentless and refused to leave anyone behind. They hadn't even lingered at Tyreese's gravesite for more than an hour. Rick seemed determined to get them somewhere safe, but Daryl grunted softly to himself, scoffing at the idea.

Ain't no place safe…

It didn't matter where they went, or how hard they fought…death would find them; it always did. It was a bitter pill to swallow but Daryl accepted it. Since the reports first started on the news, he and his brother did everything they could to stay alive. They armed themselves…they fought, they stole, they ran…until they found themselves at the quarry with other survivors. Daryl never stopped fighting. Even when he stood breathless on the roof, staring down at Merle's severed hand and the trail of dark blood his brother left behind…even when Sophia stumbled out of the barn, a grey, hissing corpse. He managed to keep going. With hot tears spilling from the corners of his eyes, Daryl drove a knife into his brother's skull and witnessed the terrible loss of the only family he had left. Even then, the hunter was able to push himself off the ground and keep walking. But in the city…at the hospital…he felt that he'd finally lost the last bit of strength he'd been clinging to. He'd stood in that hall, just feet away…a gun in his hand, and all he could do was watch as bits of shining red flesh, bone and brain tissue burst from Beth's skull…like a contained explosion. That's all it was…a small, red burst… Just one gunshot, the sound ringing in his ears until he couldn't hear anything else… and then she fell. Daryl couldn't even remember pulling the trigger on his own gun…he was dimly aware of Dawn's body sinking to the ground beside Beth. It all seemed to happen in an instant… He stood on weak legs, his eyes already growing warm, and stared down at the pool of Beth's blood that was spreading, bright and angry across the linoleum…staining his boots…. That's when it happened. That was the moment that Daryl stopped fighting. The memory chilled the hunter and even in the humid air, he could feel himself shudder.

Don't think about it…it's over

He knew that replaying the scene, over and over again in his mind, wouldn't help. He couldn't change it. He couldn't change what happened to Tyreese, Merle, Herschel, T-Dog…

They're gone…keep 'em outta your head

But it was easier said than done. He was surrounded by the living reminders of those he'd lost. He couldn't even bring himself to look at Maggie. When he did, all he could see was his own failure, and he wasn't prepared to deal with it. The dark circles under her eyes, the tear tracks on her face…the way she hugged herself so tightly, as if she might fall apart at any moment, it all served to remind Daryl of the fact that he didn't get to the hospital in time…he couldn't save Beth…

His dark thoughts must've registered on his face; in the next instant, there was a slight pressure on his arm and he looked up to see Carol staring at him. "What?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"You okay?" she asked.

He pulled his arm from her grasp and turned away. "Fine." he muttered, focusing on the road.

She nodded and they resumed walking along with their fellow survivors. "Need some water?" she asked.

"Nah."

Carol sighed, her fingers curling around the thick straps of the pack she carried on her back. "I haven't seen you drink anything all day."

Daryl just grunted; he didn't want to look at her.

"You need to drink something…" she moved to grab the small canteen that hung from her waist but Daryl stopped in his tracks and glared at her.

"Save it." he growled.

Carol stared at him, holding his gaze. She could see the hurt in his eyes…the anger and shame that had been festering since Atlanta. She wanted to erase the look on his face but she didn't know how. Realizing that he wasn't ready to let anyone in, Carol turned away and kept walking. She didn't say anything; she simply gave him a small nod and refocused her attention on the road ahead. She picked up the pace, moving past him.

Daryl swallowed hard, already regretting the way he'd snapped at her. He knew that what happened at the hospital wasn't Carol's fault. Even if she hadn't gone with him to look for Beth…even if the car hadn't hit her… it wouldn't have changed anything. Dawn was never going to let Beth leave. He figured those thoughts should've offered some small comfort, but they didn't. Daryl was carrying so much more than the bow on his back. Lost in his own memories, it took the hunter several seconds to realize that the others had stopped. He lifted his chin, looking around.

Rick was looking over his shoulder, eyeing the group of walkers in the distance. Daryl followed his gaze.

Gotta be at least twenty of 'em out there…

The hunter released a heavy sigh and clenched his fist. After Atlanta…after Tyreese…the survivors were reaching their breaking points. They were low on ammo…they hadn't eaten in two days, and they were nearly out of water. If they decided to use the few bullets they had left, the sound would likely attract more walkers than they could handle. They'd have to take the corpses out with close combat…just the thought made Daryl's body ache. His eyes were narrowed to mean slits as he studied his companions. They were exhausted, physically and emotionally drained…their bodies covered in sweat, dirt, blood… He wasn't sure they possessed the strength to swing machetes or drive rusty blades into rotten skulls.

We ain't got it in us…

The others must've shared his thoughts; everyone was staring at Rick, as if the man held an answer for them. As the seconds ticked by, the group of walkers continued to advance. The deputy licked his chapped lips and eyed his surroundings. His chest rose and fell with each breath and he ran a hand through his tangled hair. The man began to pace, his head bowed as he tried desperately to find a solution. The others were anxious; they shifted on their feet and exchanged glances, none of them knowing what to do or say. Judith started to whimper and Carl rubbed her back, trying to quiet her. Time was running out. The walkers were getting closer…their moans and snarls filling the air. Eugene slumped to the ground, his hands going to his hair as he muttered under his breath. Father Gabriel closed his eyes and prayed, the words soft, hushed… The survivors were losing heart…their group tearing at the seams. Daryl's fist was clenched so tightly that his nails were biting into the meat of his palm. He tried to keep his breathing even, but blood was rushing in his ears.

This is it….can't run no more…

Bracing himself for the fight that was coming, Daryl blew out a breath and clenched his jaw. He felt the last of his adrenaline beginning to course through his veins and he hoped it would be enough to help him make a dent in the small herd that was getting closer. Just as he was about to pull the heavy knife from his belt, a sharp sound caught his attention. He turned to see Michonne. She slid her sword from its sheath, the cool metal slicing the air as she widened her stance and held her weapon at the ready.

The action seemed to stir Rick from his trance and he moved towards her, holding out his hand. "No…" he said. "No…put it away."

A deep crease formed in Michonne's brow as she stared at him. The others seemed to be just as confused as she was.

"Dad," said Carl, desperation plain in his voice. "They're getting closer…we…"

But the deputy didn't let his son finish. "Get back."

"What?" Carl asked.

Rick turned to his son. "Get back; stay behind us."

The boy glanced at the others, but no one spoke up or argued. Swallowing hard, Carl held tight to his sister and moved past all the adults, creating distance between himself and the advancing walkers.

Rick pointed and the survivors followed his gaze. Just up the road was a small bridge, the land sloped downward on either side. From what the others could see, the earth surrounding the bridge seemed to be mostly slick red mud. "I don't want us wasting energy…we don't have a lot to spare…" said Rick, his tongue darting out over his chapped lips again.

"What do we do?" Glenn asked, his eyes wide and fearful.

Rick paused to wipe some of the sweat from his brow. "We lure 'em in…use their momentum against 'em…"

"They'll fall..." said Tara.

The others exchanged glances and they seemed to catch on quickly. "Let's move!" yelled the deputy. "Need everybody standin' close to the edge of the slopes. Now!"

With her sword still in hand, Michonne followed Rick's instructions and stood near the bridge, her back to the slope. She dug her heels into the soft earth and kept her eyes on the walkers. The survivors scrambled to get into formation and Carl stayed back, further out on the bridge, cradling his sister in his arms.

Daryl moved slowly, stiffly, as if he didn't quite comprehend what was happening. He could feel the sun glaring down at them…he heard Rick shouting orders, and he was dimly aware of Carol standing several feet away, her knife in her hand as she took her position near the bridge. With their hearts pounding and their muscles tensing, the survivors braced themselves. Beads of sweat rolled quietly down their jaws and their toes curled in their boots, but they didn't break formation. Daryl knew the others were weak…starving, dehydrated, but they hadn't given up yet. He couldn't see the point in putting up another fight, but it looked like his companions were still determined to live. So he stood with them, as he had a hundred times, and tried to block the distracting images of blood and hospitals from his mind. The survivors were anxious, some of them muttering curses under their breath…their eyes were trained on the group of advancing corpses, but no one stirred… They were standing their ground.

Daryl was pacing slowly, his hands pressing into the sore spot above his tailbone. With sweat stinging his eyes, and ragged breaths passing his lips, he wandered in circles, and waited for his heart to stop pounding. Rick's plan worked, for the most part. Over a dozen walkers were lured towards the slopes, their bodies tumbling downward as they lost their footing in the mud. But Sasha had proven unstable. Instead of following orders and pushing corpses over the edge of the slope, she took every opportunity to lunge at the walkers, her knife clutched tightly in her hand.

The rest of the group watched, horrified, as the woman lashed out, screaming and snarling. She'd become reckless and as she drove her blade into one walker..then another, she drew attention to herself. More corpses stumbled in her direction and Daryl and Michonne finally had to intervene. The hunter didn't know why he'd even bothered. If Sasha had a death wish, who was he to stand in her way? He supposed he acted out of habit. He'd been killing walkers for so long that his body simply reacted. He'd shoved Sasha out of the way, separating her from the mess she'd created, and he'd helped Michonne to dispose of the monsters that had gathered nearby.

There was fresh blood on his clothes, and the muscles in his shoulders ached. He'd driven his knife into several corpses and the blade became lodged in the last one. He clenched his teeth and wrenched it free, but the action seemed to sap the last of his strength and the pain in his shoulder was sharp, angry. The others were working to catch their breath…some of them had gathered around Sasha, their hands reaching out to her as they tried to determine if she was alright. While they were distracted, Daryl distanced himself, wandering further down the road.

His feet seemed to drag as his boots scuffed the asphalt, and he reached up to wipe the sweat from his eyes. The others were worried about food, water…shelter, but the hunter's thoughts were elsewhere. He didn't care about how many miles lay between them and Richmond, and he didn't care how many bullets were left…all he wanted was a minute to himself. They'd all been travelling together, non-stop, since Atlanta and Daryl was having trouble remembering the last time he'd had a moment of peace. He tried to hunt as often as he could, but Rick never let him go alone. Daryl had never been very fond of other people and he found that constantly being surrounded by his fellow survivors was beginning to wear on his nerves. He'd exhausted his patience long ago and it was only fatigue that kept him from lashing out. As he stood in the center of the empty road, the sun beating down on him, adding to his frustrations, Daryl made a decision. He was going to make time for himself…away from the others, and if anyone fought him he'd used whatever strength he had left to get his way.

He was rubbing the back of his neck when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. He released a heavy sigh and turned to see Carol making her way towards him.

Lord…woman won't let up…

He kept his head down and his back to her, hoping to ward off any conversation, but Carol was a force to be reckoned with. He should've known that. She had a habit of checking up on him, on Judith…Maggie…Rick…Sasha. He didn't know why she worried so much. What good had worrying done them?

Carol stood a few feet behind him, knowing that he wouldn't want her any closer. He seemed to radiate anger and resentment from every pore. She sighed, her hands going to her hips; he hadn't been this way since the farm. "Hey." she called to him.

The hunter refused to acknowledge her.

"Just wanted to make sure you were okay..that was a close call back there."

He grunted, moving further away, but she followed him. The sound of her footsteps was grating on his nerves and he snapped at her. "I'm fine. Go on."

Carol stopped in her tracks and stared at him. She could see his hands balling into fists at his sides, and the way his shoulders were tensing.

Just leave him alone…you know that's what he wants.

She took a moment to gnaw the corner of her bottom lip. Carol couldn't claim to know everything that he was going through, but she knew that losing Beth…that witnessing the girl's death had taken a heavy toll on the hunter. He needed time to accept it…to process what happened, and she suspected that he hadn't really had a chance to mourn. She stood, studying the man she'd grown so close to, and tried desperately to think of any way to help him. She reached up to rub her neck, and then her lips parted… She knew what to do.

"Daryl," she called softly, her voice wavering.

He released a heavy sigh but didn't turn around. "What?"

Carol swallowed hard before uttering her next words. "You should go."

Daryl turned slowly, staring at her over his shoulder, a deep crease was forming in his brow.

"It's okay." she insisted, a sad smile on her face. "Go. See if you can find any game…water…" she raised one arm before letting it drop to her side. "Anything."

The hunter considered her words, his fingers curling anxiously around the strap of his bow. "Rick ain't gonna let…"

But she moved forward, shaking her head. "Stop." she said softly. Before he could protest, Carol unhooked the small canteen from her belt and quickly attached it to his belt. "I'll deal with Rick. You just take that…" she glanced at the canteen. "And go." She stepped back, giving him his space again, her arms folded across her chest. "Take all the time you need." The sad smile was still on her face as she stared at him.

Daryl didn't understand and he certainly didn't feel comfortable taking her water. "Why ya doin' this?" he asked, his eyes narrowed.

All she could do was shrug and hug herself tighter. "Because you need it."

They were both silent, each of them acknowledging what those words meant. The sound of footsteps made them look up and they could see some of the others moving in their direction. Carol cleared her throat and started to walk away.

Daryl called after her. "Hey…"

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "You better go. I'll talk to Rick. If you're not back in a few hours, we'll come looking." With that, she turned away and hurried back towards their companions.

The hunter wanted to say something…to argue…to thank her…but there wasn't time. She'd given him a small window to escape and he knew that if he didn't take the chance, Rick would catch him. So he hefted the bow on his back and took off, disappearing into the woodline. He was nervous, restless…slender branches brushed his bare arms, scratching his skin as he ran deeper and deeper into the woods. Every muscle in his body was aching with exhaustion but he didn't stop until he felt that he was completely alone. Breathless and dripping with sweat, Daryl braced his hand against the rough bark of a pine tree and slowly eased down to the forest floor. As he sat with burning lungs and a pounding in his skull, the hunter closed his eyes and leaned back, letting his head rest against the bark.

Finally….you're alone…

Rick's hands were in his hair, clutching at his sweaty locks in desperation. Sasha's recklessness had unnerved him and it was just one more concern to add to the constantly growing list. The group was wearing thin and if even one of them were to become unhinged at the wrong moment, it could mean the difference between life and death. But the deputy was out of answers. He knew that Sasha was dealing with the loss of her brother and he couldn't blame her for being angry. He slammed his eyes shut, remembering the way he'd disappeared into the tombs, killing walkers with a hatchet after Lori's death.

At least we had shelter then….roof over our heads…

Now…they were vulnerable. They had no walls…no vantage points…only what they carried on their backs. Their situation was dire and Rick just wanted them all to hold tight until they found someplace to rest, but it seemed that was too much to hope for. Heat and hunger were starting to get the best of the ragged survivors and the deputy worried that his people might snap…just like Sasha. Father Gabriel seemed to be praying more and more, and Rick had seen Abraham sipping from a flask… The deputy felt responsible for these people and keeping them safe was becoming too much for him. All of these things were crowding the deputy's skull, making it ache and pound…and then he found out about Daryl….

"You just…" He blinked, trying to get his bearings, one hand still tangled in his hair. "Ya just let him go?" Rick asked, his green eyes narrowed as he stared at Carol.

She hugged herself tighter but stood her ground. She'd spent her entire life being yelled at by forceful men. She'd been beaten, punished, disciplined…more times than she could count, but once she buried the pick-axe in Ed's skull, Carol vowed that no one would ever control her again. She respected Rick, she trusted him, but she wasn't afraid of him.

"Carol!" he snapped, making her look at him.

She lifted her chin and held his gaze. The others were staring at them, but she didn't care. She told Daryl she would handle this and she intended to keep her word.

"He'll be fine." she said, her eyes locked on the deputy's.

Rick huffed, taking a step back, his hands going to his hips. "No one goes anywhere alone…you know that." He bit out.

She nodded slowly and kicked absently at the asphalt with the toe of her boot. "He needs this, Rick."

But the deputy wasn't satisfied. He started to pace, his lips in a thin, angry line. "You shouldn't have let him leave…if somethin' happens…."

Carol stopped him right there. "Nothing's gonna happen." Her voice was firm as she worked to convince herself. "If there's anyone who can handle being out there alone, it's him." She moved in to her leader's space, placing her hand gently on his arm. "I know everyone's on edge right now…" she said, speaking softly so that only he could hear. "But you need to give us a little more credit. We've all been on our own, at one point or another. We'll get through this."

The deputy released a heavy sigh and had to concede. He knew the damage one skilled survivor could do on their own. None of them would even be alive if Carol hadn't taken on the entire Terminus compound by herself. Willing himself to relax, Rick placed a sweaty hand over hers, and the two locked eyes. "You sure about this?" he asked, the words coming out in a rough whisper.

She gave his arm a small squeeze and nodded. "I am."

Rick closed his eyes for a moment and pulled a deep breath into his lungs. After giving her hand a pat, he eased back and the two survivors separated. "Couple hours…" he said, pointing at her. "If he's not back…"

But Carol finished the thought for him. "We'll go get him."

The deputy nodded, feeling that he and Carol had an understanding. With that, the two companions made their way back towards the others. The heat was terrible and they all needed time to rest. Unloading their packs, the survivors slumped down near the woodline, taking a little comfort in the shade of the tall pine trees. Leaning back against a nearby trunk, Carol brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them, her eyes closing. She listened to the sound of insects chirping in the grass, the hushed conversations of her friends, and her own heartbeat. As she sat, with her slender arms circling her knees, Carol couldn't help but think of him and wonder if he'd found some solace in the woods.

After he'd had several minutes to catch his breath and calm his fraying nerves, the hunter pushed himself up off the ground and set to work tracking. As much as he wanted to sit wallowing in his own misery, Daryl knew that if he came back with something to show for his efforts, Rick would be less likely to engage him in some pointless yelling match…and the deputy might be more amenable to the idea of Daryl taking these solitary hunting trips in the future. So he set his sadness and his anger aside, focusing instead on any signs of life in the forest.

He'd been following a subtle trail for about fifteen minutes, hoping that it would lead him to a deer. He could see hoof-prints in the soft earth…places where the leaf-litter had been disturbed, small, broken branches… Judging by the size of the prints, there was a buck nearby. He kept his bow raised as he moved quietly through the woods. The surrounding stillness was at once comforting and eerie. Birds flew from tree tops every so often, disturbing the silence. Dead leaves crunched softly under his boots…but those were the only sounds. The hunter maintained his focus and continued on his trek. Even in the gloom of the forest, Daryl could feel the relentless afternoon heat pressing in all around him, making his skin damp. He was tempted to reach for the canteen at his waist, but he was determined to save what little water there was until he absolutely needed it.

Wiping his face against his shoulder, Daryl slowed his pace. The trees were beginning to thin and the idea of stumbling out into the open made him nervous. His finger was curling around the trigger on the bow and he tried to keep his breathing even. Suddenly, bright light was stinging his eyes and he growled, raising the bow to shield his face. He stopped, looking around, and found himself standing at the edge of a small clearing. Tall grass grew in places, along with wildflowers, and a slight breeze blew past…the slender blades of grass bending beneath the soft breath of air. The hunter's eyes flicked left, then right, searching for game…but the clearing was empty. Just as suddenly as it came, the breeze disappeared, leaving an unnatural stillness in its wake. As he stood at the edge of the tree-line, taking in his surroundings, Daryl couldn't help but feel that he was the last person on earth…that he was completely alone. Realizing that he'd finally found the perfect place, he slowly lowered his bow and eased down to sit on the grass. With his legs crossed and his hands resting in his lap, Daryl tried to memorize all the little details around him.

He saw the wildflowers, small bursts of color amidst the pale grass. Tall trees, like dark sentinels seemed to watch over the clearing but as Daryl turned, looking to his right…he saw where the woods began to thin. His eyes narrowed and his lips parted when he noticed a small building in the distance. It looked like a shack, or a barn…it was abandoned, from what he could tell, and it seemed to be in a state of disrepair, but it was a possibility.

Shelter…

He knew then, as he continued to stare at the shabby structure that was partially hidden by trees, that he'd have to tell the others…he'd have to bring them here. The idea of relinquishing the solitude he'd found pained him, but the others needed somewhere safe to rest. Knowing that the peace and stillness wouldn't last forever, the hunter decided to savor his isolation for a while. He sat in the grass, with his bow beside him, and bowed his head.

The clearing was so disturbingly silent, but gunshots were ringing in his ears. He could hear Rick yelling…he felt the pressure of Carol's hand on his arm as she tried to pull him back…but then everything went red. He couldn't breathe…he couldn't think…all he could do was react. His finger curled, squeezing the trigger, and a bullet was buried in Dawn's skull. He couldn't remember everything that happened after that. He knew he'd stooped at some point…collecting Beth's body and carrying it out of the hospital. She was so light…thin…her legs swinging lifelessly as he cradled her against his chest. He remembered the way it felt when the hot tears began to well in his eyes, making him blink. He'd followed his companions out of the hospital, not knowing what else to do. When the bright, hot light of day hit his face, he'd faltered, not wanting to go any further….he didn't want it to be real. But then Maggie saw them, her wide eyes trained on her sister's body…on the red stain that was slowly spreading in Beth's blonde hair. The look on Maggie's face…the absolute devastation and pain that Daryl saw there…it made everything real. The air left his lungs and he watched, helpless, as Maggie crumbled beneath the weight of her grief. She sank down to the asphalt, her fingers splaying and her chest heaving…and Daryl stood, numb, carrying the dead girl…

The hunter sat with his head in his hands, reliving every hellish second leading up to Beth's death. He slammed his eyes shut and muttered under his breath, obsessing over everything that happened. He was replaying the scenes, picking them apart, trying desperately to figure out what he could've done differently. His breathing began to pick up…the whole thing seemed like an impossible equation, but he was determined to find an answer.

I'm missin' somethin'…

There had to be a solution. Something he could've done or said… His hands moved into his hair and formed fists. He tugged sharply at the damp locks and swore, his eyes growing warm. Maybe if they'd infiltrated the hospital another way…if they hadn't opted for a trade…

There's gotta be a way….

But he couldn't figure it out. It was pointless…just like everything else… All roads lead back to him, to his own shortcomings. He'd failed. He couldn't bring Sophia home, he didn't get to his brother in time, and he let Beth down. She died in front of him…they all did… Daryl couldn't save anyone. All he'd ever done was watch as his loved ones fell. The only thing he was good for was carrying the bodies and digging their graves. Daryl was having trouble accepting that fact and his chest tightened. He couldn't think and he couldn't breathe. The hunter sat, alone at the edge of the clearing, and mourned. His eyes were closed, his fingers pulling at his hair. Blood was rushing in his ears and he didn't know what to do. He could feel himself shuddering as the dark thoughts continued to fill his skull, swarming like crows… With his head bowed, Daryl grieved for those he'd lost…those he'd failed.

I shoulda done more…maybe I could've changed it…

But it didn't matter. It was too late. The ghosts he carried with him…that's all they were, haunting memories that he needed to leave behind. The cold, sickening fear that was twisting inside him had a strong hold on the hunter. It seemed to surround him, along with the pale faces of those he'd lost, until all he could see was death. That's what everything came down to…death. Daryl believed it was his fate…his punishment…to stand witness to so much loss. Somehow, he'd managed to escape the snare, only to watch in helpless horror as his friends and family were snatched from him, the light fading from their eyes and those final, rasping breaths passing their lips.

The hunter felt as though he were suffocating and he finally had to gasp for air, sucking it greedily into his burning lungs. His eyes were warm and two hot tears formed at the corners, falling quickly and leaving tracks on his cheeks. The crippling pain and regret had been building inside him for so long and he thought he could contain it…smother it…but he didn't have the strength anymore. He shuddered again, fresh grief pouring out of him as he finally let himself feel everything he'd been keeping at bay. Alone in the clearing, Daryl felt so much like the weak, sniveling little boy who'd locked himself in the bathroom…he used to spend hours, shaking and hugging his knees as he sat in the empty bathtub. He hid, behind the thin shower curtain, and listened as his father tried to break down the door. The lock would rattle and the frame would start to splinter…but Daryl didn't have anywhere to go. He could only cry into his knees and hope that the door would hold… With his chest heaving, Daryl swore. He could taste the salt of his own tears between his lips and he knew that he couldn't hide anymore. The ghosts were always waiting for him, behind his eyes, in his dreams…and he had no choice but to face them. So as rage, shame and anguish continued to pour from him, Daryl tore at his tangled hair and wondered how much more he could take.

Carol couldn't remember the last time anything tasted so good. She clutched the hunk of greasy meat in her hands and tore into it. It was the first thing any of them had eaten in days. She knew she should pace herself, savor the meat, but she couldn't help it. She'd never been so hungry. She could feel the juices running down her chin and she knew she must look like some sort of savage but it didn't matter.

When the pack of wild dogs appeared, snarling and growling…their sharp teeth bared and their fur flecked with dry blood, the survivors didn't hesitate. Sasha was the first to reach for her rifle and the animals were dead in seconds. Desperate for food, the group worked to skin and gut the dogs as quickly as possible. The asphalt was stained with blood. Rick built a small fire and the survivors used thin branches as skewers, holding chunks of meat over the flames. They listened as the grease snapped and popped, dripping into the fire below.

The heat was still terrible, oppressive, but Carol didn't let it spoil her meal. She sat, covered in sweat, and continued to tear at the piece of flesh she held. She wished that Daryl were with them; he needed to eat just as badly as they did. While she chewed, Carol tried to determine how long the hunter had been gone. The sun was slowly moving across the sky and Carol didn't like the idea of Daryl being alone after dark. She knew that Rick would want to send a team out soon, but something about that bothered her.

He's not going to want a bunch of us following him into the woods.

She could practically see the scowl on his face. Daryl wasn't fond of interruptions or invasions of privacy. Taking the last bite of her meal, Carol wiped her hands on her pants and stood up. She made her way towards Rick; the deputy was standing in the center of the road, discussing something with Glenn and Abraham. The three men looked up when they heard her footsteps. Rick stared at her and their eyes met.

"You thinkin' it's been long enough?" he asked.

She rubbed the back of her neck and nodded.

Rick looked up, studying the sky. The others followed his gaze and they all noticed the faint, grey clouds approaching from the east. "Looks like it might storm." said the deputy. "We gotta make this quick. Just hope he didn't wander too far."

Carol was getting anxious; she didn't know how to voice the thoughts in her head.

"You want me and Abraham to go?" asked Glenn, as he eyed their leader.

The deputy rubbed his jaw. "I was thinkin' I should go."

Abraham snorted. "You stay here." He reached out to place a broad hand on Rick's shoulder. "Keep an eye on your boy and make sure these folks don't go tearin' through all that meat."

Rick still wasn't convinced; his brows were knitting together. The three men seemed to have forgotten Carol's presence. She cleared her throat, making them look at her.

"I can go." she said, hoping her voice didn't betray her fear.

They stared at her as if she'd just said something completely ridiculous.

"Alone?" Rick asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Carol…you don't need to…we'll…" Glenn was arguing but she held up one hand, stopping him.

"Think about it," she said, her tongue darting out over her chapped lips. "One woman can move through the woods a lot faster than three men."

"Carol…" said Rick.

"Tell me I'm wrong." she said, her arms folded across her chest as she stared at each of her companions in turn.

The men exchanged glances but none of them could offer up an argument. "I'm fine on my own. And you know how he is." she gestured to the tree-line behind her. "He's not gonna take kindly to the idea that we sent a search party out after him. He did this to get away. The last thing he needs is the three of you storming out there to drag him back. I think, in this instance, less is more. I can do this." She stared hard at her leader, hoping that he understood.

Rick sighed, his hand still rubbing his jaw. "I don't like it." he said.

Carol took a step towards him, her eyes seeking his. "I know you don't. But this is the best way. I'll bring him back; I promise."

Once again, the deputy was forced to accept the reality that Carol was a capable fighter and that she didn't need an entourage stumbling around in the woods with her. He hated the thought of any of his people being on their own, but he knew he couldn't stop her. If she wanted to go…he had no choice but to let her. "I want ya to take this." he said as he shrugged the rifle off his shoulder and handed it to her.

She held the weapon in her hands and studied it. "Rick…I don't need…"

"Quit." he said, his eyes locked on hers. "If you're goin' out there, you're takin' a gun."

Carol swallowed hard, nodding. She slung the strap onto her shoulder and hefted the rifle in her arms, getting a feel for it. "Thanks." she said.

Glenn and Abraham watched the exchange in awe.

"Stay safe." said Rick, his hand on Carol's arm.

"You too." she gave him a faint smile and turned away.

As she walked back towards the others, Glenn stared at his leader. "You're just letting her go?"

Rick stood with his hands on his hips. "I can't stop her. Besides; she's good with him. He'll talk to her before he talks to any of us."

Glenn sighed, running his hands through his dark hair. "If you say so."

Fifteen minutes later, Carol was walking through the woods. She had her pack, her knife, the rifle and some extra meat wrapped in a cloth so that Daryl could have it when she found him. She'd also taken one of the radios before leaving. Rick had the other and he'd be listening for her if she needed anything. She smirked to herself, thinking that a year ago…she never would've felt comfortable stumbling around in some unfamiliar forest on her own. But with her boots strapped on tight, and the heavy knife hanging from her belt, Carol felt confident. She'd spent enough time around Daryl to know what to look for. He liked to believe that he never left traces behind…that no one could follow him, but she could see the signs.

She knew the pattern of his gait, the length of his stride…and she'd recognize his prints anywhere. He'd been wearing the same pair of worn, leather boots since the turn. She knew that he took measures to find his way back once he followed a trail. He'd break branches, make indentations in the dirt with the toe of his boot or the tip of his knife….he carved small notches into tree trunks. Carol knew all of these things and she kept her eyes open as she made her way deeper into the woods, hoping to catch a trace of him.

As she walked through the forest, studying her surroundings, Carol realized that she wasn't entirely prepared to find him. She wasn't sure what she would say. If her instincts were correct, and he'd taken this is an opportunity to mourn, she ran the risk of stumbling onto something sacred…private. Grieving was something that each of the survivors did differently; it was personal and Carol wasn't sure she felt comfortable intruding on that. But it was getting late and she'd promised Rick that she would bring Daryl back.

Shaking away the pointless doubts, she continued on her path, her eyes constantly scanning the gloomy surroundings. After half an hour of uneventful wandering, Carol finally seemed to catch a break. She dropped to a crouch and used her hand to brush away a few dead leaves. There was an impression in the mud…a footprint. With a sense of incredible relief washing over her, Carol brushed more leaves aside and noticed another print…and then another. She'd stumbled across his trail. The sky rumbled overhead, startling her, and she stood, hurrying on down the path she'd found.

As she picked up the pace, Carol considered her own grief and tried to recall if she'd ever confronted it. Since the turn, she'd been forced to endure one terrible loss after another. Friends, family, kind-hearted strangers…fellow survivors, she'd seen them fall. But it seemed like there was never any time to process those deaths. Barely an hour after she buried the shining tip of the pick-axe in her husband's skull, the survivors had piled into their vehicles, leaving the quarry behind them. Then they found the herd on the highway…she'd lost her daughter. The memory chilled her and she had to pull a sharp breath into her lungs. Even then, there wasn't time… Carl was shot; the group was scattered… They'd taken refuge in Herschel's home, but the peace never seemed to last. She'd been forced to watch as Rick put a bullet in her daughter's brain. She'd sat in the red dirt, with Daryl's arms around her, her lungs aching as she screamed for the child she'd lost… After that, Carol had trouble keeping up with the seemingly constant losses. Sometimes, when the group was bedding down and sleep escaped her, Carol would lie awake and whisper the names of everyone they'd left behind. Jackie, Amy, Sophia, Dale, Patricia, Jimmy, Shane, T-Dog, Lori, Herschel, Merle, Andrea, Lizzie, Mikka, Beth, Tyreese. She said the names, the soft words passing her lips over and over again, like some sort of secret prayer. She felt that it was important to remember, but that's all she'd done…remember. Carol never felt like she'd truly come to terms with any of it. She supposed she was hanging on to her grief until she had a time and place to address it. That didn't seem healthy, but it's what she'd chosen to do. Even after all the things she'd seen and done, Carol was still afraid. She was scared of the ghosts that followed her…of the dark memories she'd tucked away in the back of her mind…she worried that if she finally stopped and faced them, the pain would prove too much. She couldn't afford to be overwhelmed by her own sadness, not when her group needed every able body on high alert. They were lost, they didn't know what to do or where to go, and Carol wasn't going to make things worse by dissolving into a fit of tears. So she kept her chin up and stayed busy. She spent her time checking on the others, making sure they had everything they needed. Carol had become a strong fighter and she wanted to put her skills to use…she was more than some battered wife who'd lost her baby. She refused to give in to the sadness that constantly threatened to overtake her.

With her blue eyes clear and focused, she hurried through the woods with renewed purpose. She'd done a good job of keeping herself busy and she had a sudden urge to find the man that had become her biggest distraction. When she wasn't talking to him, helping him track, or taking watch shifts with him, Carol found herself worrying about him. He always seemed to be on her mind, but she was grateful for the distraction. The others saw him as a soldier, someone whose strength never failed. But she knew better than that. He was just as vulnerable as any of them. They all had breaking points and she feared that he was close to reaching his.

She moved faster, following the trail he'd left behind. Fresh sweat was glistening on her chest as the humid air hung heavy around her. The sky groaned and Carol hoped that a light storm was headed their way. They could all use some relief from the heat. Tensions were already high in the group and the Georgia sun wasn't helping. Pausing to catch her breath, she braced her hand on the smooth bark of a nearby tree. As she stood panting, Carol noticed that the brush seemed to have thinned and more light was streaming into the forest. Her eyes narrowed and she stared up ahead at what looked to be a break in the woodline. Wiping some of the sweat from above her lip, Carol pressed on, hoping that she was headed in the right direction.

She kept her rifle raised, just in case something other than Daryl wandered across her path. As the trees continued to thin all around her, a soft sound reached her ears. She froze, looking around, trying to pinpoint the source. Her nerves were kicking in as she took a hesitant step forward. The sound seemed louder…closer, and she took another step. Her eyes were darting left and right, searching for any signs of life. She continued to advance, moving towards the break in the trees. Just before she reached the clearing, Carol stopped short. Daryl was slumped at the base of a nearby tree, his legs sprawled in front of him. For one tortured second, her heart leapt into her throat and she thought that he was hurt. But as she inched closer, she realized that the sound was coming from him. He was crying. Paralyzed with fear, Carol had to force herself to keep going. As the space between them shrank, Carol's lips parted. Her eyes went wide and a deep crease formed in her brow. She stared at his hands and saw that he was holding a lit cigarette to his skin, twisting it every so often. His head was hanging low as he focused on the cigarette, and he seemed so lost in his own suffering that he hadn't noticed her presence. She swore, as she stood watching him, that she could feel the small ember eating away at her own skin. She knew what it felt like…and if the sheer pain wasn't enough to make him stir, Carol knew that he was battling something much worse…something she couldn't see. There was a stabbing pain in her chest and she could feel her throat closing up.

She considered Daryl to be a friend, a strong ally…family. Seeing him in such terrible pain was making her eyes grow warm. She was having trouble processing the scene in front of her. He shuddered every so often, sniffing and working through whatever had taken hold of him, but he never pulled the cigarette away from his skin. With every second that ticked past, it grew harder for Carol to stay silent. She couldn't take it. He was hurting himself..she wasn't going to stand idle while he suffered. Summoning her courage and bracing herself for the anger she knew he would unleash, Carol moved towards him, calling out softly. "Daryl…"

The hunter stiffened at the sound of his own name. His eyes narrowed and he lifted his chin, searching for the intruder. When he saw her, the blood seemed to freeze in his veins. She was advancing quickly and before he could think to act, she bent over him, snatching the cigarette and crushing it under the toe of her boot.

"What are you doing?" she asked, the fear and sadness evident in her tone.

Daryl was in a daze. He stared down at the burn mark on his hand and brushed the gray ashes away lazily. He wondered how long he'd held the cigarette to his skin…he couldn't remember.

"Daryl…" she repeated, trying to get him to look at her.

The sky rumbled overhead and that seemed to stir him from his trance. He wiped quickly at his running nose and glared at her. His stormy eyes were rimmed with red and the tears had left tracks in the grime that covered his skin. His chest was heaving and he didn't know what to say. Anger, shame and embarrassment were warring violently inside him and his stomach started to churn. "What?" he snapped, wiping his nose again.

"I….I just…." she ran a hand through her hair and tried to find the right words. "What are you doing?"

Daryl grunted as he forced himself to stand. On shaky legs, he backed away from her and tried to slow his breathing. He hated that she'd seen him like that…his face stained with tear tracks…he felt weak, broken…. "Nothin'," he managed to say, his eyes on the ground.

Carol wanted to tell him that it was alright…that everyone cried, but the words sounded inadequate, even in her own mind. The crying wasn't what disturbed her…it was the self-inflicted burn on his hand. "You've been out here a while…" she said, her voice wavering. She shrugged off the rifle and her pack, letting everything drop with a thud. "Rick wanted to come looking for you…he was gonna take Glenn and Abraham but I thought…."

"Ya thought what?" he snapped, his words dripping with venom as he took another step back, distancing himself from her. "Thought I'd rather have your ass out here, checkin' up on me? That it?"

She sighed, her hands running through her hair and locking behind her head. "Daryl…I'm not here to check up on you. It's just getting late and Rick wants us to head back. I didn't mean to intrude on…"

"On what?" he snarled.

She bit her lip and glanced at the burn mark on his hand.

Daryl followed her gaze and his temper flared. "That ain't none of your business. Ya ain't got a say in how I spend my goddamn time." He was pacing now, his eyes never leaving her face.

Carol held her ground. A few angry words weren't enough to shake her resolve.

The hunter was still pacing. "Ya gonna run back to Rick…tell him what ya saw? That it?" he growled, a few strands of dark hair hanging in his face. His fists were balling at his sides.

"No one has to know about this," she said calmly.

"Bullshit." he said as he turned his head to spit.

Thunder rolled overhead and Carol was getting anxious. Daryl's actions had unnerved her and she wasn't sure she could get him to go back with her. "I mean it," she insisted, her voice soft as she tried to curb his anger. "No one needs to know. I just want you to come back, so does Rick…everyone's waiting on us back there. I'll forget any of this ever happened, just grab your things and come back."

But he was ashamed of his own weakness, and the knowledge that she'd seen him at his worst made Daryl kick at the ground and swear. "I don't need a damn babysitter. I'll head back when I'm ready. Go on." He gestured towards the woodline, dismissing her.

Carol folded her arms across her chest and hung her head. She knew she couldn't go back without him. She took a shaky breath and made herself speak. "Daryl…"

"I said go," he snapped, pointing at the trees.

She lifted her chin and held his gaze, her eyes growing warm all over again. "Don't do this." she pleaded softly.

Daryl just glared at her, his fists trembling with trapped anger.

"Don't disappear," she said.

The hunter didn't know how to answer her. "Go on Carol." he growled, but some of the fight seemed to have gone out of him.

Carol was starting to panic. She wasn't going to let him pull away. They needed him. "Come with me."

"No." he said, shaking his head. "I ain't ready."

She took a step towards him. "I'm sorry…"

"For what?" he snapped, his mean eyes fixed on her.

With one hand cupping her forehead and the other on her hip, Carol released a heavy sigh. "Everything."

A heavy silence fell over them; it seemed to blanket the clearing and neither of them knew how to move forward. The words were sticking in their throats. Daryl wasn't prepared for this. He'd spent the last few hours alone with his misery, letting months of hurt pour out of him and he still felt that he'd only scratched the surface. He didn't know how to respond, or how to interpret what she'd said.

"I'm sorry about what happened at the hospital…" she said.

Daryl's body went rigid and his eyes narrowed. "Don't." he growled under his breath.

Carol could feel the tears threatening to spill but she was doing her best to keep them at bay. "You haven't said anything since…no one has."

The hunter shook his head and began pacing again, trying to ward off any more conversation.

"We haven't talked about it…and I think we should. She was one of us. It feels like we haven't acknowledged her death." Carol gnawed her bottom lip and hugged herself. The sky groaned above them dark clouds were gathering overhead.

"Fine!" Daryl snapped, raising his arms and then letting them drop. "Let's talk then! Where'd ya wanna start? With that bullshit plan that got her killed? Ya wanna talk about me 'n you, holed up in some goddamn lawyer's office while we coulda been out there lookin' for her?"

Carol watched as the hunter began to lose control of his temper. His hostility was scaring her but she stood her ground.

He snorted, his eyes narrowed to icy, blue slits. "How 'bout back when it was me 'n her? When we was stayin' in that funeral home…'n I let them assholes take her…Ya wanna talk about that? Huh?" His tongue darted out over his chapped lips as he circled her.

It was then that Carol understood. All of this pain…the bitterness he carried with him…

He feels responsible.

Her chest tightened and she wanted desperately to help him. "Daryl," she said, her voice faltering as she tried to contain a sob. "It's not your fault." The words came out as hushed whispers.

He stopped pacing and stared at her, his head cocked to the side. "What did ya say?"

She ran her hands over her face and clasped them in front of her mouth. "It's not your fault…what happened to her…"

The hunter let the words sink in, but he knew Carol was wrong. He was the reason Beth died in that hospital. He was the only reason she wasn't here now. "The hell it ain't…" he muttered under his breath.

A realization struck Carol as she studied the man in front of her. "Oh my god," she breathed; her eyes were beginning to shine with unshed tears. "Is that why you did it?" she focused on his hand, the small circular scar that the cigarette left behind. Her heart was pounding and she felt sick. "Were you punishing yourself?" she asked.

Daryl didn't know what to say. He'd been in over his head the instant she found him. He needed to get away. Turning on his heel, he started stalking across the clearing, leaving her alone. But before he could disappear, her voice stopped him.

"It wasn't your fault…" she called out to him.

His shoulders tensed; he could hear the sadness in her voice. He didn't want to turn around…he wasn't ready to face her, but he knew she'd never let him go.

"Daryl," she said, "It wasn't your fault!"

He clenched his jaw, and took a deep breath. He could feel anger coursing through his bloodstream, clouding his judgment like alcohol. He tried to push her away…to push all of them away, but they never let him go…they never let him be. Daryl was so tired of smothering everything that churned inside him…keeping it buried. He wanted to unleash every vile thought that had been festering in his head; he wanted to scream until he was hoarse and let the angry words fly like sparks from his tongue. Carol was always there…she never stopped pushing him and he'd finally reached his limit. He wanted to push back. Turning slowly to face her, he kept his cold, blue eyes fixed on the woman who'd finally pushed him too far.

He started advancing, moving back across the small clearing. He raised one arm, pointing at her. "Think ya got it all figured out? " he snapped. His steps were slow at first, but he was picking up speed as he got closer. "Ya don't know shit." he growled, his upper lip curling back.

Carol was scared, but she wasn't about to run from him. "Daryl…"

"It's my fault she's dead!" He snarled at her. He was closer now, there were only a few feet left between them and his chest was heaving. "I shoulda been there sooner!"

Carol held her ground and let the anger wash over her like a rough wave crashing on the shore. She knew that once he let it out, he'd be better. She just needed to keep herself together until he finished whatever it was that he'd started. "It wouldn't have made a difference; it wasn't your fault." she insisted.

Daryl couldn't contain his rage any more. He stalked towards her, making her back away. Carol swallowed hard, trying not to lose her footing as she walked backwards. "It was my fault!" he yelled. "All of it! 'Phia, Merle, Beth…It's my fault they're dead!" He was moving towards her at a relentless pace and he didn't stop until her back was pressed against the nearest tree.

As he unleashed his anger, Carol felt her resolve beginning to crumble. It was bad enough thinking that he blamed himself for Beth's death, but to know that he felt responsible for what happened to his brother, and to Sophia…it was more than Carol could handle. It made her sick to think that he'd been carrying so much guilt for so long. And he'd never said anything… Something seemed to break inside her and she felt the first hot tear slipping from the corner of her eye. There was rough bark at her back but the pain didn't matter. All that mattered was the man in front of her, the friend who'd been suffering in silence since the farm…who never let anyone help him…

He was so close; she could feel the hurt and bitterness rolling off of him in waves and he was still yelling…the harsh sound echoing in her ears as another tear fell, following the curve of her face. "I didn't get to 'em in time…If I did…maybe they'd be here!" he snarled. "Instead of lyin' dead in the ground somewhere! That's on me!" He was seething as he stepped into her space, trapping her against the tree. There was hardly an inch between them and Carol was doing her best so stay standing.

"It's not!" she said, the words strained. She reached back, her nails clinging to the bark of the tree behind her. "None of it! You can't keep punishing yourself for things you had no control over!" she yelled at him, hot tears welling in her eyes again.

Daryl was stunned by the look on her face. His chest was heaving and he licked his chapped lips as he stared at her. He could see the honesty reflected in her eyes…the raw devastation. That's when he knew that she was in pain. He wasn't alone. He watched, breathless, as tears rolled down her cheeks like jewels. The moisture clung to her lashes and he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen so much hurt in another person. "It's not your fault…" she whispered, sniffing. "I need you to believe me…"

Those hushed words seemed to break him. He bowed his head, his eyes slamming shut as he fought against the grief threatening to spill from him. He was trembling, his fists shaking, but he didn't know what to do. He pulled a strained breath into his lungs and forced himself to meet her gaze. When his eyes eased open and found hers, he could feel the last of his strength slipping away. He knew the tears were coming but he wasn't ready. He stared at her and she stared back, neither of them knowing what to say. All they wanted was a way out of the hurt and anger that seemed to surround them. Carol sniffed as fresh tears fell; she drew on her courage and reached for him, her hands going to his hair. The instant her slender fingers wound into his hair, Daryl closed his eyes. She pulled him towards her and he didn't resist. The hunter was too broken and tired to put up a fight. He let her guide him, until his chin was resting on her shoulder. Carol didn't let him go; she kept her fingers curled in his dark locks and tried to stop herself from shuddering as he hid in the crook of her neck.

"It's okay." she breathed.

Daryl seemed to shiver, but he didn't pull away.

She combed her fingers through his hair, trying to calm him. The tree was the only thing that kept her standing. "It's not your fault." she whispered. "Do you hear me?" She could feel his scruff at the base of her neck.

Daryl grunted softly against her skin but didn't speak. His arms hung limp at his sides and Carol stroked the ends of his hair.

"It's not your fault," she whispered again.

The hunter's eyes were slammed shut but he couldn't stop the tears from spilling. He shuddered as he tried to contain the sobs in his chest. As the two wounded people stood beneath the tree, thunder crashed overhead and the sharp sound seemed to tear the sky open. A light rain began to fall, startling both of them, but they didn't move. He wanted to stay close to her, hiding in the warmth of her neck, and she didn't want to let him go. Daryl was grateful for the rain; he didn't want her to see his tears.

After several minutes, Carol felt the need to break the silence. They'd been listening to the soft sound of light rain falling on the leaves above them, but she knew they couldn't stay there forever. She could feel his tears on her skin and she wanted him to stop. Seeing him in pain only made her cry and they couldn't very wall walk back to the others with red, swollen eyes and running noses. That would only lead to a barrage of questions that neither of them were prepared to answer. "Daryl," she whispered.

He sniffed but didn't speak.

"I need you to promise me something…" she said, her voice hushed. Carol used her grip on his hair to pull him from the safety of her neck. She made him look at her.

The hunter stared at her, his lashes wet with tears, or rain, she couldn't tell.

"Promise me you won't do this again." one of her hands slipped from his hair and she reached for his wounded hand, lifting it. They both stared down at the small, circular scar. "Don't hurt yourself," she pleaded.

His eyes found hers and they stared hard at one another.

"Please," she whispered, a tear slipping between her lips. Her hand curled in his hair, tugging gently at the damp locks.

Daryl didn't trust himself to speak. He just wanted to erase the look on her face. Without thinking, he let his stiff fingers thread with hers…their hands joining. The action seemed to startle both of them and they looked down, trying to process what they saw. There was a sudden warmth spreading through Carol and she couldn't help but to apply a gentle pressure, squeezing his hand. He mimicked her actions and they refocused on one another. Not knowing what else to do, Daryl bowed his head and tried to control his breathing.

Carol pulled him closer and placed a quick kiss to his forehead. She didn't know where it came from, she just wanted to comfort him. She kept her lips pressed to his damp skin for several heartbeats and then eased them apart. Their eyes met and she worried that she'd crossed a line, but he simply stared at her, his blue eyes vibrant and honest.

As they stood together, their hearts pounding hard in their chests, Daryl and Carol saw one another. Not the brave faces they put on for the others, and not the masks they wore to conceal their pain...they saw each other for what they truly were...the people they'd always been. She was more than the one-woman army who'd stormed Terminus, and he wasn't just the ruthless soldier fighting at Rick's side. They were just people...they might be broken, scarred, lost and afraid, but they were people. They were tired, wounded...and they just wanted to feel safe again...whole.

Her fingers were still in his hair and she played absently with the damp locks, marveling at the fact that he was letting her touch him. It occurred to her, as she felt his hair slipping between her fingers, that she'd never been this close to him. He held her when Sophia staggered out of the barn...but that was different. He was simply trying to keep her from running to the daughter that wasn't hers anymore...and she'd pulled away from him seconds later. He hugged her, knocking the air from her lungs when she found him after Terminus...but she just thought it was his gut reaction to seeing her alive...he was in shock. Now, with his eyes locked on hers and their hands clasped, Carol felt that this connection was different. The closeness was sustained...it wasn't some fleeting embrace. They'd been standing together for several minutes and seemed content to stay that way. She'd felt the scruff of his chin against the soft skin of her neck and his fingers were tangled with hers. But it was more than physical proximity...In the stillness of the clearing, Carol felt close to him...not just his body, but the person he was. She swallowed hard and tried to remember if she'd ever felt this way before.

The light rain continued to fall and their hands were wet, slick...Daryl could feel her fingertips grazing the rough ridges of his knuckles in a continuous pattern, as if she were trying to soothe him. In the heat of the late afternoon, the rain fell soft and warm...clear droplets rolling over smooth, green leaves and pelting the two shaken people who stood beneath the tree. Daryl didn't know what he was doing when he allowed his fingers to thread with hers, bringing their hands together... It just felt right. He was in pain and he longed to make a connection. He wanted to reach out to someone who could understand him. So he squeezed her soft hand, touching her..and letting her touch him. His heart began to beat with alarming speed, and he worried that it was too much, but she didn't pull away... She simply stroked his wet hair and kept her eyes on his. When Carol pulled him towards her and pressed her lips to his forehead, Daryl closed his eyes, trying to memorize the feeling. She was so kind, careful...and everything she did seemed to bring him comfort. The seconds ticked by, each one slower than the last, and her soft lips were still pressed to his skin, easing his fears. Each time her slender fingers ran through his hair, he found himself regretting the way he'd yelled at her. She didn't deserve it...but she was there

She's always here...

So he unleashed his hurt and his anger on the only person strong enough to take it. But she didn't run, and she didn't fight. She stood her ground, watching as his storm broke. She let him scream and when he ran out of words she pulled him close, letting him take refuge in the safety of her neck. She let him cry, all the while, soft words of comfort were passing her lips like prayers, or blessings that she'd saved just for him. There was no judgment in her tone...no anger, only reassurance. Even if she didn't realize it, Carol was giving him everything he'd always needed...the love and affection he'd never known as a child. Every kind word and gentle touch was helping to calm him, but he couldn't seem to stop his heart from racing.

The survivors stood, with their eyes closed, each of them savoring the closeness. Carol's hand curled, almost cradling the back of his head as she let her lips linger on his skin. A stifling warmth was rushing through her and she squeezed his hand again, reminding herself that he was real. Daryl trembled and she finally pulled back; when she licked her lips, she swore she could taste him there. A soft grunt escaped him and he tightened his grip on her hand. They weren't ready to let each other go. Forgetting about whatever boundaries remained between them, Carol pulled him towards her again and gently nuzzled his forehead. They both shivered at the contact and Carol felt her breath catch. With her back pressed to the rough bark, and her cheek brushing Daryl's forehead, she seemed to forget everything else. All that mattered was the man in front of her...the person she trusted more than anyone else on this earth...the only one who made her feel safe. She just wanted to help him...to take away the heavy sadness in his eyes and the guilt he carried with him each day. She didn't know how they'd wound up under the tree, in the middle of a summer storm, but she wasn't ready to leave. They both seemed to be in need of what the other had. He was aggressive, passionate, headstrong...and she was calm, focused...kind. As she stroked the ends of his hair and nuzzled his brow, Carol could feel him relaxing under her touch. Each tiny gesture seemed to cool the fever that had been raging inside him moments before...

The longer they stood together, the more Carol wanted him. It was a startling thought...she wasn't prepared for it...but suddenly, it was filling her mind until she could think of nothing else. She wanted to be closer, touching him...breathing him in. Her heart was pounding and she wondered if he felt the same...if he needed the contact as badly as she did. They'd always been good together...she never felt more confident than when he was fighting alongside her, and she knew that none of the others could hope to relate to her like he did. There was a silent understanding between them...a sense of camaraderie and mutual trust that had grown over time. He was part of her family...there wasn't a person left alive that knew more about her. He was one of the most incredible people she'd ever met and in moments of weakens, when she thought about leaving in the middle of the night, he was the force that kept her from running. Carol knew that if she ever mustered the strength to leave the group...she'd never get far. She couldn't abandon him. And now, all of the tiny gestures and traits that drew her to him...they seemed to lead her to where she was now...her fingers lost in his dark hair and her cheek resting against his forehead...their hands clasped to tightly... It was all too much, powerful, frightening...but Carol couldn't make herself stop. She needed to be close to him. Losing herself, she released his hand...her slim fingers falling away. She heard Daryl's breath catch, but she didn't have time to address his fear. Her heart was beating furiously in her chest and she moved her hand into his hair. With all ten fingers tugging at his locks, she took a deep breath and pulled his mouth to hers. She thought he might resist her, but he didn't. Their lips touched and he froze, letting her kiss him.

The hunter didn't know what was happening. Seconds ago, she was holding his hand and brushing her cheek against his forehead. But now...he was so close to her...he could feel her soft lips pressing against his, the contact was light, hesitant...he knew that she was afraid. The feeling of her fingers tangling in his hair was mesmerizing and he closed his eyes, savoring it. He knew Carol, he trusted her...but he didn't know how to react when she kissed him. He was in shock, his mind and his body at odds while his heart continued to hurl itself against his ribs. She wasn't forceful...she seemed to be waiting for him to adjust...or to act. After several seconds, he felt her grip loosen on his hair and the pressure on his lips disappeared. Daryl eased his eyes open and stared hard at the woman in front of him.

Carol was breathless, her blue eyes bright and clear. Her thumbs were resting near his temples as she waited for him to say something. But the hunter was silent. The only sound came from the rain striking the leaves above them. There was a deep crease in his brow, and his lips were parted in fear and confusion as he studied her.

"I..." she licked her lips and tried desperately to explain herself. "I'm sorry...I just...I thought..." But as she fumbled with her words, Carol realized something. He wasn't trying to pull away...he wasn't running. He wore a pained expression and there was a startling blend of shock and longing reflected in his eyes. Working to control her breathing, Carol gently massaged his temples with her thumbs. "Are you scared?" she whispered.

He lowered his gaze and managed a nod.

Carol licked her lips nervously and moved her fingers through his hair, hoping to calm him. "I'm sorry...we can stop..." she said, her voice strained but sincere.

Daryl took a deep breath and focused on the way she was touching him...on the way it made him feel... Her nails were barely grazing his scalp but the action was enough to send violent chills up and down his spine...like bursts of electricity...signals he couldn't ignore. His body was so close to hers, but he wanted to be closer. Taking another deep breath and holding it in his lungs, Daryl slowly lifted his arms. He braced his palms on the rough bark, his fingers splaying on either side of Carol's head. The hunter was fighting to stand, he needed support but he was afraid to touch her. So he leaned into her space and kept his hands on the bark. He was anxious, unsure, but he felt the need to be close. With his eyes locked on hers, he waited.

The way he was looking at her made Carol's heart thrum. She felt as though every rational thought she'd ever had was suddenly disappearing, leaving her in a daze. It was difficult to accept that any of this was happening and she needed a distraction...something to keep her grounded in the waking world before she slipped into some alternate reality of her own creation. "Daryl..." she said again, the word was a hushed plea falling from her lips. "We can stop..."

But he just stared at her mouth, his lids growing heavy. She watched as his chest rose and fell and wondered if it was fear or desire that caused the changes in his breathing. Not knowing what else to do or say, she pushed her long fingers through his hair and tried to memorize the way it felt...in case they were never this close again. But as she moved, her body seemed to act on its own...her fingers lacing together at the back of his neck and pulling him towards her slowly. He tensed but didn't stop her. The blood was rushing in his ears and the sound was so loud that it seemed to drown everything else out. He closed his eyes and let her guide him. When his mouth was hovering over hers, she whispered to him.

"We don't have to..."

Daryl hesitated for half a heartbeat, his blunt nails digging into the bark, but before his fears could make him run, he closed the distance, letting his lips brush hers. It had been so long since Daryl let himself get close to anyone...he was afraid and he was holding back, but the warmth spreading through his body urged him to keep going. He applied the slightest hint of pressure and couldn't believe the way she responded. Her grip tightened at the back of his neck, keeping him close to her, and a soft sigh escaped her. The survivors rarely experienced any sort of peace or joy...and hearing that sound of contentment pass her lips made Daryl groan. It was the best thing he'd heard in a long time. He liked the way her lips felt against his, but he couldn't bring himself to deepen the kiss. His nerves were getting the best of him.

Carol wanted more. She clawed lightly at the ends of his hair and kissed him softly, sweetly, trying to show him how much she cared. The sensations were too much and Daryl gasped, his chest heaving. Carol didn't stop, she smiled against his mouth and flicked the tip of her pink tongue out, tracing his bottom lip. The action surprised him but it wasn't unwelcome. He didn't know what to do...so he set his fears aside and let his body take over. She drug the tip of her tongue across his bottom lip, slowly, teasing him, and he welcomed her in. The instant she slipped into his mouth they both groaned. With their eyes closed and their hearts pounding, they tasted one another. He was passive at first, letting her explore...play...but the longer they held the connection, the more control he craved. His body was so close to hers and he wanted more of her. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and felt her tremble in response, her hands moving back into his hair and forming fists.

They stood beneath the tree, lost in one another...his mouth working against hers and her tongue slipping under his. They were entranced...overwhelmed, and neither wanted to break for air. The rain was falling all around them, droplets pelting their skin. They could taste rain water on each other's lips. As she continued to kiss him, Daryl tried to recall if he'd ever experienced anything like this. It was warm, wet and real. It was more than physical contact...this was an awakening...a show of trust. The hunter had always been terrified of letting others get close to him, but there, with her, he felt safe. Something told him that this was right. He could let her in...let her help him. He was still so nervous and he didn't know what to do with his hands, but that didn't matter. Carol seemed to know what he needed before he knew it himself. She caressed his tongue softly, slowly, and her fingertips massaged the muscles in his neck, erasing tension. He gasped every so often but he wouldn't pull away from the warmth of the kiss...and Carol seemed reluctant to let him go.

They were tender, careful with one another and they didn't feel the need to rush. As his mouth worked against hers, Carol felt that she could stay like that...trapped under the tree with him for the rest of the afternoon. She didn't want to leave this place...the empty clearing that made them feel like the last two people on earth. It was peaceful, beautiful and she loved the smell of the rain in the air. Clinging to his neck, Carol wondered if this would change things for them. She didn't know what came over her when she decided to kiss him...she simply acted. She was surprised when he reciprocated. And now there was a powerful, all-consuming warmth building between them, the heat spreading outwards from their lips, making their blood sing. It was the best thing that Carol had ever felt and she didn't want it to stop...but she didn't know what it meant. She wasn't expecting anything from him. If it was nothing more than a few stolen moments of comfort between two vulnerable people, she would accept it and move on. But as he groaned against her lips, his taste filling her mouth, Carol couldn't help but think that there was more to it than that. She lost herself in the kiss and her hands slid down from his neck, her fingers splaying on his chest.

The motion made Daryl sigh and he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his hands on the bark. They broke the connection, both of them in desperate need of air. They stared at one another, their lips parting to make way for ragged breaths. Tiny droplets clung to the ends of her lashes, catching the light. Daryl couldn't make himself look away. Dark, wet hair was plastered to his brow and in the next instant, Carol reached up, pushing the damp locks aside with a soft hand. He closed his eyes when she touched him...he didn't want to, but the action was involuntary...as if his mind and his body needed a moment to process the feeling of her hand on his skin. She ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back so that she could focus on his face. They were silent, each of them fascinated with the other.

They stood frozen, their minds reeling. When Daryl finally eased his eyes open, he found himself at a loss. He couldn't quite read the look on her face. He knew that there was fear reflected in her eyes, but she still had one hand on his chest, and her fingers were tucking wet hair behind his ear. Knowing that he'd never be able to voice the thoughts rushing through his skull, the hunter did the only thing he could. He leaned back into her space and kissed her softly. She closed her eyes, her nails clawing lightly at the front of his shirt. He applied more pressure and she opened her mouth, letting him in. His tongue slid past hers, sending a chill through her body. Giving in to the sensations that were churning inside her, Carol moved her hands to his strong shoulders and began pushing his vest off. Daryl was scared but he knew he didn't have the strength to stop her. He pulled his hands away from the tree but kept kissing her as she pushed the heavy vest from his shoulders. When they heard the leather hit the earth with a soft thud, it seemed to give them a strange thrill. There was something passionate, primal about shedding their layers under an open sky. The kiss deepened and Carol blindly reached for his hands, guiding him to her hips. They both tensed at the contact but Daryl followed her lead, his fingers curling around her hips. They couldn't seem to stop kissing one another. She sank her teeth into his bottom lip, tugging gently at the tender flesh and he growled, his hands sliding up to her waist where he held her tight.

A tiny gasp escaped her and Daryl found that he liked the sound. Blood was pouring into the lower half of his body, filling him with false confidence and reckless need. He sucked at her tongue and they both groaned. With every kiss...every soft sound, and every pounding beat of their hearts, the survivors could feel themselves getting swept up in whatever had taken hold of them. Insecurities slipped away like drops of rain from the ends of their hair and their bodies were running on pure instinct. Daryl's hands moved under her damp shirt, and his breath caught when he felt her bare skin...cool and smooth to the touch. With their mouths still connected, Carol reached for the hem of her shirt. The action startled Daryl and he pulled back, staring at her. They were panting as they watched one another. His strong hands were still gripping her waist and she focused on him as she began to pull her shirt up by the hem.

Carol's heart was racing so fast, she thought she might faint, but she needed to keep going. She sucked in a sharp breath as she pulled the shirt off and let it fall. The air had cooled with the rain and she could feel goose bumps rising on her arms. She was standing in front of him, in a battered tank top. One of the straps slipped low on her shoulder and Daryl's eyes caught the movement. Suddenly, there was nothing he wanted more than to see her skin. Carol was sure she'd never been more anxious in her life, but the way Daryl stared at her lead her to believe that she was doing the right thing. Their eyes met and he seemed to be asking silently for permission. Swallowing her fears and taking a deep breath, she lifted her arms and waited on him.

It took the hunter several seconds to understand, but when the realization struck him, his mouth went dry. With his narrowed eyes locked on hers, he gripped the hem of her tank top and started tugging it upwards. Carol gasped when the cool air hit her stomach, and then her chest. She closed her eyes as Daryl pulled the top over her head and let it drop to the ground below. Carol leaned back, pressing herself against the tree...she wanted to create space..breathing room between her and Daryl..the look on his face was unnerving her.

The hunter couldn't stop himself from staring at her...his icy blue eyes roaming her body. Without thinking, he reached for her, his broad hand splaying against her smooth stomach. He felt her tremble and his eyes flicked to her face. She chewed her bottom lip and managed a slight nod. On her signal, Daryl ran his hand up her body, along that tight stomach, higher, over her bra until his palm was resting just above her breasts. He could feel her heart beating under his palm. In that moment, as he stood mesmerized by the woman he thought he knew, Daryl couldn't help but think that this was life...this was the reason the survivors fought so hard. Living wasn't just a habit...they ran in the hopes that there was still joy to be had...peace to be found. They longed for homes and safety, friends and loved ones...connections to the lives they'd lost when the world turned. And with his hand resting over Carol's heart, Daryl knew that he'd found his home. He'd found the one person who could bring him peace.

While he was entranced by her body, Carol's hands moved to the buttons on his shirt. The action startled him and he grabbed her wrist, stilling her. Carol gasped, her chest heaving as she stared at him. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Daryl bowed his head, not wanting to look at her. His fingers were still curled around her wrist.

It was then that Carol understood. One of the reasons she and Daryl had always worked well together was their shared experience with abuse. Neither of them had ever gone into great detail about their pasts but they knew enough. The hunter had seen evidence of Ed's aggression for himself when they were all living at the quarry and Carol caught fleeting glimpses of Daryl's scars when they were staying in the prison. She didn't have the courage to ask him about it, and even if she did...Carol knew he wouldn't answer. But now, standing in the clearing with Daryl, she wanted nothing more than to feel his skin under her hands...to touch him, love him, and make him forget the scars. He was scared, and she understood, but she needed him to trust her.

"Daryl..."she said softly.

He lifted his chin and she could see the pain etched into his features.

"It's alright," she breathed, her blue eyes locked on his.

But the hunter wasn't convinced. He held her wrist tightly, afraid to let her go.

"Daryl," she pleaded with him. "You're safe here."

He swallowed hard, a crease forming in his brow.

"Please..." Carol whispered as she moved into his space.

Daryl was trying to keep himself from shaking. His fingers were stiff, but one by one, he uncurled them, releasing her.

Carol moved slowly and she kept her eyes on his, never breaking the connection. "It's okay," she whispered, her nimble fingers working on the buttons of his shirt.

Daryl could only stand, petrified, as she carefully undid each of the buttons. She was nearing the top of his worn shirt and her kind eyes were still locked on his. As he stared at her, the hunter realized that he was doing the right thing...he needed to let her see him. She was standing in front of him, so much of her pale skin on display...his eyes followed the clear drops of rain that slipped down between her breasts. She was letting him in, and he wanted to do the same for her. So he stood trembling and wet, silently waiting for Carol to finish. When she worked the final button through the hole, she paused, waiting for permission to proceed.

Daryl grunted softly, urging her to continue. Taking a calming breath, she moved her delicate hands to his shoulders and started to push the damp shirt off. The fabric was wet...dark with rain, and seemed to cling to his skin...but Carol helped him and together they peeled the shirt from his body. It hit the ground and Daryl didn't know what to do. He'd never felt so exposed in his life. He couldn't recall the last time he'd taken his shirt off, willingly, in front of another living soul. Droplets were striking his skin and the cooler air was pressing in around him, making him shudder. He was frightened, lost as he stared at Carol.

But she seemed to know what he needed, just as she always did. Steeling her nerves, she reached around to her back and began to fumble with her bra clasp. She kept her eyes on his, and the thrill of having him watch her was making it hard to breathe. When she finally felt the ends spring apart, Carol moved quickly. She knew that if she hesitated, her fears might take hold. So she slid the thin straps down her arms and dropped the bra. The blood froze in her veins and she could've sworn that her heart stopped. It was terrifying and exhilarating to stand with him, neither knowing what to do or say. A small gasp escaped her; she'd never felt rainwater on her bare breasts before and the sensation seemed to spark something inside her. She was still for several seconds, letting Daryl drink her in. The way he looked at her, it made Carol feel beautiful and nervous energy was bubbling under her skin. Realizing that everything she needed was right in front of her, Carol closed the gap between them. Her slender arms wound loosely around his neck, bringing their bodies together, and she let her cheek rest against his chest...just over his heart.

Daryl was so lost in his admiration of her that it seemed to startle him when her arms pulled him into a sudden embrace. But the instant she pressed her chest to his, the air left his lungs. Their bodies were slick with rain and her breasts were so soft against his chest. The action was automatic, instinctual, as he wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close. He felt the warmth of her cheek over his heart and his fingers pressed into the small of her back, as if he could trap her. With his chin resting on top of Carol's head, Daryl took a moment to breathe in the woman he was holding. He could smell the rain in her hair, the sweat on her skin, and something else that seemed to be uniquely hers. With his eyes closed, he let his broad hands travel up and down her back...along her sides...He was silently mapping out her body.

Carol could feel the speed and pressure of his hands increasing. Each time he reached her ribcage, his fingers seemed to press in harder. And when he dropped back down to her waist, he gave her a gentle squeeze. Now he was massaging her lower back, the tender spot just above her tailbone, and she couldn't help but sigh into his chest. Suddenly, she wasn't cold anymore. With her body pressed against his, Carol felt a strong, soothing warmth spread through her. He continued to work her muscles, his fingertips driving out the tension. With her arms still wound around his strong neck, Carol began placing soft kisses to the center of his chest. She could feel raindrops on her lips as she kissed him, and she could taste the salt of his skin. As she gave him the affection she knew he needed, Carol noticed a change taking place in his body. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt his arousal somewhere below his waist. She kissed him harder and he grunted, his hands slipping down to her ass. He gripped her flesh, kneading it hard through the fabric of her pants. The forcefulness of his touch made Carol shudder and she could feel herself getting wet.

Her body's reaction shocked her. It had been so long since she experienced any sexual desire and she'd forgotten the power it could have. The sensations were making her head swim and she stopped kissing him. Instead, she closed her eyes and began panting lightly against his skin while his hands continued to massage her roughly. He used his grip to press her body against his, keeping them flush so that she could feel his need. As he squeezed her, Daryl couldn't help but buck his hips weakly. He needed more from her, but didn't know how to ask. So he ducked his head, letting his chin rest in the crook of her neck. Daryl was trying to control his breathing, but he knew that she could hear it...feel it against her skin. He let her scent surround him while his hands traveled even lower, gripping the backs of her thighs. His need was building and the frustration was proving too much.

Carol groaned when she felt those strong hands grab her thighs. It was all so surreal...the fact that she was there, nearly naked with Daryl Dixon in the middle of a storm...his hands on her body and her bare breasts pressed against him. She could feel his arousal and knew that she needed to help him. Lacing her hands behind his head, she lifted her chin. He pulled away from the safety of her neck and looked at her..the two of them holding each other's gazes. They were both panting and wet hair was plastered to their brows. His lids were heavy...his blue eyes narrowed, focused. They stared dreamily at one another for several more heartbeats and then some magnetic force drew them together...his mouth catching hers. They kissed with urgency, as if they might be torn apart at any moment...as if they needed each other. His tongue was warm in her mouth and she tugged at the ends of his hair. They both groaned and she felt his hips buck again. She kissed him hard, catching his bottom lip and holding it between her teeth.

While they continued to taste one another, Carol's hands slipped down between them. Daryl jerked when he felt her reaching for his belt buckle, but he was too far gone to stop her. She kept him distracted, the tip of her tongue flicking against his while she began to tug the leather through his belt loops. Daryl could feel his insides trembling with nervous energy but her mouth was wet, sweet, and he focused on the way her soft lips pressed against his. When his belt hit the ground, they both gasped. The two survivors eased apart and studied one another. Carol's hands were on his waist band, her fingers curling anxiously around the damp fabric. He was still gripping her thighs. Each of them waited for the other to say something…to object, but neither of them did. Having reached a silent understanding, Carol glanced at his zipper and carefully began to tug the tab down. The hunter swallowed hard, feeling as though he might be sick. When she pushed the button through the hole and grabbed his waistband, her eyes found his. She didn't want to rush him, and didn't want him to feel pressured. Carol knew how difficult it was to let someone in after a lifetime of undeserved pain. As badly as she wanted him, Carol made herself speak. "We can stop…" she said softly, giving him a choice.

But Daryl didn't want to stop. He wanted to feel safe…to make a genuine connection with someone he cared about, and who cared about him. He wanted to feel something real. So he ran his hands up, from her thighs, to her ass, where he lingered for a moment, squeezing the flesh gently, then higher, until he was holding on to her small waist. With his ocean-colored eyes trained on her face, Daryl licked his lips and spoke. "Keep goin'." he growled, his voice strained, thick with need.

Carol's lips parted in awe and she felt a sudden, stifling heat between her legs. She gave him a slight nod and tried to remember what she was doing. Concentration was difficult with Daryl staring at her.

Pants…

The voice in her head broke through, reminding Carol of her task.

Get his pants down.

The thought was so bizarre that it almost made her chuckle.

You're pulling Daryl Dixon's pants down…

A sense of giddy excitement was rushing through her and she bit her bottom lip in anticipation. With her heart thrumming, she gripped the fabric of his pants and began to tug. Her knuckles brushed his hips and he hung his head, a soft groan escaping him. Carol could feel his boxers and she made sure to yank the thin material down, along with his pants. She was careful to pull the elastic waistband of his boxers away from his body, freeing his cock. She wanted to stop and stare so badly but she knew that they were both scared and that any hesitation could ruin this for them. So she focused on sliding the pants and boxers down his legs. He helped her to kick off his boots and socks, and then finally stepped out of the pants entirely, nearly stumbling in the process.

The hunter felt awkward, exposed, vulnerable. He wanted to hide, cover himself somehow, but the look on her face stopped him. She'd stood back up, once he stepped out of the pants, and her cheeks were flushed pink…the color so bright that her freckles seemed to glow. He could tell that she was nervous and that she was trying to keep the smile off her face, but she was failing. Her eyes were vibrant and she brought one hand to her mouth so that she could chew her thumbnail. Carol's other arm was curled around her middle and she looked like she was trying to hold herself together. She seemed intrigued, restless, and Daryl took some small comfort from that. He couldn't recall the last time he'd had that effect on a woman…if he ever had. His fears gradually began to subside and he found himself staring at her body.

He loved her creamy, pale skin….like milk…she looked so soft, smooth, and his eyes followed the clear beads of water that slipped between her breasts and rolled down over her tight stomach. He noticed that her pants were soaked through with rain and that the material was clinging to her long, toned legs. The hunter was so fixated on her that he didn't notice the way his member was swelling. Warm, rich blood was pouring into his groin, making him stiff.

Carol was drawing on every last ounce of self control. She'd just about gnawed her thumbnail down to the quick to keep herself distracted. She didn't want to stare…she told herself she wouldn't. She knew that the slightest misstep might startle him…but Carol was sure she'd never been more curious in her life. She never imagined that she and Daryl would reach this point and now that they had, she just wanted a moment to admire him. He'd always been appealing to the senses. His feral, blue eyes, cold and clear like water...the husky sound of his voice, the strong, unmistakable scent that always seemed to surround him… But Carol was finally getting a chance to see him, all of him, and she wanted to savor it. Her thumbnail was still caught between her teeth, and lust was making her mind hazy. She tried to keep her eyes on his face…a face she'd grown to love, but she couldn't stop herself from glancing at the rest of him.

She liked his long hair…the dark strands that hung in his eyes. She liked his strong shoulders, his neck, the faint dusting of hair on his chest, the name tattooed over his heart, his flat stomach that was now shining wet with rain…her eyes roamed lower, to his navel…she could feel her heart speeding up but she couldn't look away. A trail of dark hair lead her to his manhood and Carol's thumb fell away from her mouth. All she could do was stare….he was perfect. The cool rain falling all around them didn't seem to be affecting him. His cock was hard and ready and she had to keep herself from reaching out to touch him. The shaft was long, thick, and the tip seemed swollen. She wanted to memorize every detail…the veins, the shape, the size…all of it. As she stared, Carol swore that she could already feel it inside her. There was a stabbing pain deep in her core and she knew that he was the only one who could fix it.

Daryl didn't know what to do. She was watchin him so intently, admiring him….he wasn't used to anyone looking at him like that. When her thumb fell from her mouth, he felt his breath catch. She seemed to be in awe of him and the thought made his cock throb. He was so nervous…completely out of his depth, and he worried that he might come in front of her. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had sex…but he knew it was before the turn. He swallowed hard realizing that if she even touched him, the contact alone could be enough to send him over the edge. But she just kept staring, her blue eyes fixed on his manhood, and he could feel drops of liquid pooling at the tip. Desperate for a distraction he cleared his throat, making her look up.

With heat spreading across her face, Carol swallowed hard and lifted her chin, meeting his gaze. She wrung her hands and tried desperately to think of something to say….a way to explain her actions.

Daryl didn't know what to do. He could feel the rain pelting his bare skin, and soft, damp grass under his feet, but somehow…it just didn't seem real.

How'd we get here?

Time seemed to slow to a drag and he wondered how long they'd been standing there. He wanted to know how long Carol had been with him…if she was even there at all. His mind was struggling with the idea that she'd sought him out…that she'd kissed him, touched him…and that she'd helped him shed his clothes until he stood naked and shaking in the rain. He stared at her…his eyes seeking to memorize every inch of exposed skin…the curves of her breasts, the well of her throat, her shoulders… It was then that Daryl knew he needed more. He wanted to see more of her…whether or not she was real. His mouth was dry and the blood had long since rushed away from his brain, but he managed to voice the thought that had been spinning slowly in his mind. "Carol…" he breathed.

She sucked the rain water from her bottom lip before answering. "Yes?"

The hunter swallowed hard, his heart thumping in his chest. "Can I see ya?" he growled softly.

Carol felt every muscle in her body tense at his words. Her eyes were wide, fearful, and she backed away until she could feel the bark of the tree behind her. Her stomach was in knots and she couldn't breathe.

Daryl felt guilt stabbing at his consciousness. He didn't want to frighten her. All she'd ever done was comfort him. He bowed his head and couldn't help but wonder if he'd said the wrong thing.

Carol was clinging to the trunk behind her but her eyes never left him. The longer she stared at him, the worse she felt.

It's not fair….

He let her take his clothes…he was standing in front of her now, in nothing but his own scarred skin. Drops of cool water were slipping from the ends of his hair…his scruff, and she could see that he was trembling. Realizing that she couldn't hide from him anymore, Carol began fumbling with her belt buckle, her eyes still trained on the hunter.

When Daryl heard the sound of clinking metal, he looked up. She was staring at him, while her hands worked to unfasten her belt. He could see her chest rising and falling and knew that she was nervous…but he wanted to ease her fears…just as she'd done for him. He wanted her to know that there would be no judgment here. Summoning his courage, he made himself walk towards her. His hands moved over hers, stilling her, and their eyes met.

"Lemme help ya…" he whispered.

She let out a shaky breath and nodded, carefully pulling her hands away. Daryl did his best to maintain his focus as he worked her belt through the loops. Once he'd slipped it free, he stooped, setting it on the ground. When he stood, meeting her gaze again, his hands went to the tab on her zipper. He hesitated, his expression softening as he stared at her.

"It's okay." she breathed.

Hoping that she meant what she said, Daryl gave Carol a slight nod and began to pull the tab down. His nerves were building with each passing second, but he didn't want her to see how scared he was. So he let the tip of his tongue rest between his lips as he worked the zipper down and then pushed the button through the hole. Eager to continue, he reached for her waistband, gripping it firmly. His knuckles brushed her hips and she shivered. Knowing that actions meant more than words, he leaned in, kissing her softly. Carol felt herself melting into the kiss. The familiar warmth was spreading through her and she closed her eyes, loving the way his lips felt against hers. As he kissed her, Daryl curled his fingers around her pants and began tugging. He made sure to grab the fabric of her panties and did his best to push the clothes down, past her hips. Carol used her hands to help him, their mouths still connected.

She gasped when she felt the pants slip down to her thighs, along with her underwear. Daryl pulled back, studying her, making sure she was ready. Carol sucked in a sharp breath and nodded, her heart thrumming within the confines of her chest.

Giving her one last, lingering look, Daryl dropped to his knees and grunted as he worked the material down her legs. He was trying so hard to stay calm, but as he tugged at the damp fabric, exposing her core, the hunter froze. He never imagined he'd see so much of her and now he was kneeling in the wet grass, naked, just inches from the most intimate part of Carol's body. His lips parted, and he seemed to be in awe of her. In that instant, the hunter seemed to forget his task. He released his hold on her pants, the material now stuck near her knees, and gripped the backs of her thighs instead. His fingers curled around her soft flesh and he worried that he might bruise her, but he couldn't stop himself. A startling blend of lust and fascination drove him forward, and he closed his eyes as he placed a kiss between her legs.

Carol gasped, her nails digging into the bark of the tree as she struggled to process what he was doing to her. She kept a scream locked in her chest and her eyes slammed shut…she couldn't move.

Daryl was lost in her. He gripped her thighs harder…his fingertips digging into her pale skin. He lingered there, breathing her in, memorizing her scent…letting it fuel his need. His cock was throbbing, but he didn't care. Daryl wanted to stay close to her. In his delirium, the hunter was tempted to taste her…to let the tip of his tongue dip inward until he found her heat, but something stopped him. They were both out of their depth, and he knew they needed to be careful. So he settled for placing kisses to her soft curls and loving the sounds she made in response.

Each time he kissed the spot between her legs, Carol worried that she would come. Just having him close to her…knowing that his lips were on her body was enough to make her weak. She couldn't stop the groans that escaped her as he lingered there. Needing to see it for herself, Carol eased her eyes open and glanced down at him. She could've sworn that her heart skipped a beat as she stared at the man she'd grown so close to. She saw the way his arms tensed, the muscles straining as he maintained his grip on her thighs. He seemed to be in a daze as he knelt in front of her; he was panting and she could feel his warm breath hitting her core…the sensation made her walls open. Before she could stop him, he kissed her again, using his grip on her legs to keep her sex pressed to his mouth. She cried out, her nails digging into the bark so hard that it hurt her fingertips.

When he heard that sound…a sound she'd made out of sheer need, he gave her one last kiss and tugged her pants and panties down roughly. Her breaths were quick and shallow as she kicked the material off the ends of her feet. Daryl tossed the clothes aside and stood slowly, his eyes roaming her naked body. They were still standing beneath the tree but Daryl wanted to move. Swallowing hard, he reached for her hand and tugged gently.

Carol met his gaze and they studied one another. She wasn't sure what he wanted, but then he began to pull, urging her to follow him. Bracing herself for whatever was coming, Carol let him pull her away from the safety of the tree. They both blinked, shuddering as they stepped out into the rain and felt it pelting their bodies softly. As they stood facing each other, beneath an open sky, Carol wondered if she should say something. Daryl was staring at her, drinking her in. He studied her, in the cold light of day, with nothing between them, and felt that he was finally seeing the woman she was…the woman she'd always been.

Carol was anxious under his gaze and she opened her mouth to speak but Daryl didn't let her. He reached for her waist, pulling her towards him, his lips pressing quickly into hers. Carol was powerless against him. She could feel his need pressed between their bodies…his manhood brushing her lower belly. Their skin was slick, and Carol's hands were splaying on his chest while he gripped her waist. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and they kissed as if they were thirsty for one another. They were panting, licking, teasing, tasting... She bit his bottom lip, applying gentle pressure and his hands slipped lower on her body, to her hips. He groaned into her mouth and bucked against her. Carol clawed his slick chest and countered his movements, her pelvis pushing into his. The kisses were greedy, heated, and he sucked her tongue hard, making her moan. She could feel the moisture building between her legs and the stabbing pain grew worse. She couldn't stop her hips from bucking; Daryl growled, pulling his mouth from hers. They both gasped for air and blinked the raindrops away from their lashes.

As they stood together, their bodies flush, Daryl's strong hands began massaging her hips and Carol released a staggered breath. The next words tripped off her tongue before she could stop them. "I need you…" she whispered.

The hunter ran his hands along her sides and focused on her face. Her blue eyes were so clear and bright and he didn't know what to say. No one had ever needed him…not like this. He just wanted to be enough for her, but he was still afraid.

Swallowing hard, Carol began to ease down onto the grass. She lay on her back, her legs raised and bent at the knee. With her heart pounding wildly in her chest, Carol beckoned for him to join her. He cleared his throat and managed a nod as he carefully lowered himself until his body was hovering over hers. She parted her legs, making room for him, and he braced his hands on the wet ground…fingers splaying nervously on either side of her head. They were breathing hard…he stared down at her while she stared back at him. As they lay together, wet and naked in the grass, Carol couldn't help but to think that it was so much more than release…more than comfort… They were baring their souls. Their bodies glistened with rain and the cool air pressed in around them, making the two broken people feel awake and alive.

With the slick blades of grass at her back, and Daryl's warm body looming over her, Carol reached up to lace her hands at the back of his neck. When she first ventured in the woods, in the hopes of finding him, Carol never imagined that they'd wind up like this…trembling together in the rain…their bodies so close. She didn't want it to end, and she never wanted to let him go. She kept her hands clasped at the back of his neck and her thighs pressed in, trapping him between her legs. It was a miracle that they'd even made it this far…they'd survived hell on earth, before and after the turn, only to find comfort in each other's arms…tenderness and affection that neither of them knew they'd been missing. Marveling at the man hovering over her, Carol began playing with the ends of his damp hair. She used her grip to pull him towards her. With her lips just millimeters from his, Carol whispered to him. "I'm ready."

"Ya sure?" he asked, his voice low.

Carol could feel his words against her lips and she smiled softly. "I'm sure…" she breathed before pulling his mouth to hers and kissing him hard. Daryl's eyes closed when he felt her warm tongue slip under his. As she explored his mouth, the hunter's hips bucked down into her and they both groaned at the sensation. His manhood brushed her slickness and he felt more liquid beading at the tip of his cock.

Carol bucked underneath him, her hips rocking. She wanted to feel his hard length between her legs. Daryl wasn't prepared for how wet she was. The feeling of his member sliding past her sex was enough to make him shiver and he worried that he might not be able to penetrate her without letting go. But she was kissing him, her sweet tongue caressing every part of his mouth, her body still rocking weakly underneath him. His fingertips flexed as he clawed at the wet ground. He didn't have a choice…they'd come too far…he knew that he'd never be able to leave without trying. She seemed to want it as badly as he did. Nervous and unsure, Daryl used one hand to reach down between them.

When he gripped himself, the hunter groaned against Carol's lips. She was trembling with anticipation and her empty core was aching to be filled. She tried to focus on his mouth as she kissed him harder. Lost in the feeling of her tongue stroking his, Daryl began to guide himself to her heat. He was bucking lightly, pressing against her to find the right spot. When her body jerked, and a sharp gasp escaped her, he knew he'd found her entrance. Using his grip to keep himself in place, Daryl applied a hint of pressure…he was afraid to hurt her.

Carol swallowed hard, trying to calm herself. She couldn't let her body tense. She sucked his bottom lip for a moment and then whispered to him. "Please…"

Daryl's eyes were still closed…he couldn't stop kissing her…he knew that if he did, he might lose his nerve. He just wanted to give her what she needed. Steeling himself, Daryl kept his manhood pressed to her entrance. With his body protecting hers, he hoped that the rain wouldn't wash away the natural moisture they both needed to make their union work. Chills were traveling quickly along the length of his spine and his heart was beating heavy in his chest. But as Carol pushed her warm tongue into his mouth again, he knew he had to act. Grunting against her lips, the hunter gave a strong, sudden thrust, breaching her entrance.

Carol screamed, her body locking up and seizing around him. Thunder rolled overhead, drowning out her cries, and she was grateful for the isolation they'd found in the clearing. Her nails were digging into the back of his neck and her thighs were squeezing his hips hard. She tried to control her breathing and give herself time to adjust…her body was in shock.

Daryl's eyes slammed shut the moment he entered her. He managed to push the blunt head of his cock past her tight ring of muscles…but he couldn't seem to go any further. With the tip of his member resting just inside her sex, Daryl bowed his head and tried to process what he was feeling. He hadn't expected that much resistance…the way her body began seizing around the tip of his cock nearly made him whine. Through the haze of his own shock, the hunter heard her scream…the sharp sound cutting into him. Fear pooled in his belly and he moved to pull out, but Carol's nails clawed at the back of his neck and she forced him to look at her.

"I'm sorry…" he breathed.

She willed herself to relax as she studied his face. "Don't be…" she managed to whisper.

Daryl swallowed hard, battling the feeling of her muscles constricting around him. "I'm hurtin' ya…" he growled softly.

Carol moved one of her hands to his cheek and kept her palm pressed to the damp skin. "No…" she lied. "It's just been a long time…and you're so…" but she couldn't bring herself to say it. It didn't matter that they were lying naked together, or that he'd slid her panties down her legs and kissed her core, she felt a hot flush spreading across her face at the thought of telling him that his size was what made her scream. "I just need a minute." She ran her thumb along his jaw and hoped that he believed her.

He kept his eyes on hers and nodded. Releasing his cock, Daryl moved so that he was propped on his elbows…her body trapped underneath him. The hunter stared down at her and waited…all the while ignoring the way her muscles continued to clench around him.

Carol stroked his cheek softly and whispered to him. "Can I touch you?"

Daryl didn't understand, his confusion must've registered on his face because Carol let one of her hands travel slowly down his neck, towards his back. The hunter tensed, his eyes wide with fear. Carol stopped, her eyes on his. "Please?" she asked softly. "It'll help…"

He grunted, unsure of why anyone, let alone Carol, would want to touch him.

"Please?" she said again, her eyes shining with sincerity.

Daryl knew he couldn't resist her…not when her soft, wet body was slick against his. So he hung his head, offering his consent with a sigh.

She let his forehead rest against hers and moved her hands around to his back until she was clinging weakly to his shoulder blades. Carol could feel the tension in his muscles and she wanted to erase it. She hoped that by doing this, she could relax their bodies enough to make their union last. "Easy…" she whispered, his damp hair hanging around her, the dark locks brushing her face.

Daryl just grunted, his nails digging into the wet ground.

Holding her bottom lip between her teeth, Carol began to drag her nails lightly down his back. She didn't apply enough pressure to hurt him, and the rain helped her to almost glide over the surface of his skin. She could feel the scars…the angry, raised flesh, but she didn't flinch. They were just another part of him, and Carol found that there wasn't a single part of Daryl that she didn't like. When she reached the small of his back, she clawed just a little and he grunted in response.

"Was that alright?" she breathed, his forehead was still resting against hers.

"Mhmm." he managed to say.

"Good," she whispered. "I'm gonna do it again."

Daryl was silent but for the sound of his strained breathing.

Carol ran her hands up from his tailbone, her fingers splaying so that she could feel his skin…she wanted to memorize it. She moved slowly, savoring the contact. It wasn't just scars that she felt, it was flesh and bone and muscle. It was warmth, and strength…reality. She closed her eyes, loving the way he felt under her hands. There was a soft smile on her lips and she marveled at the fact that any of this was happening. When she made her way back to his shoulder blades, she clung to them, as if she never wanted to let go. She felt safe with him, happy…and that's when Carol realized she loved him. All she wanted was to stay there with Daryl, lying underneath him, comforting him…showing him all the kindness he deserved. The feel of his damp skin was intoxicating and she couldn't stop her hands from traveling up and down his back, over and over again. There was something soothing about it. She explored him…massaging the aching muscles near his spine, her fingertips pressing in…she drug her nails carefully along his sides, her thumbs brushing his ribs.

The more she touched him, the more she relaxed. She pulled cleansing breaths into her lungs and felt her walls open. Easing her legs further apart, Carol arched her back and clawed his shoulder blades. "Now…" she whispered.

The hunter felt the decrease in pressure the instant her legs spread for him. There was space and he wanted desperately to fill it. He eased back, his blue eyes burning into hers for half a heartbeat before he jerked his hips. This time, they both cried out. With her back arched and her pelvis tilting for him, Carol felt his hardness begin to slip inside.

Half of his cock was surrounded by the warmth of her walls and longed to push in further. Bucking his hips weakly, he worked his way into her sex, little by little. He grunted each time and Carol gasped. He could feel moisture all around him, helping him to penetrate her heat. With one, final, forceful push, Daryl sent his cock into her core. His pelvis was flush with hers and her insides were wrapped around him, the muscles clasping and unclasping his hard shaft. Their mouths were open, their eyes closed as they struggled to adjust to one another.

Carol wanted to be gentle but she couldn't stop herself from raking her nails roughly down his back. He growled, bucking into her, and she screamed. The feeling was so intense and his shaft was so thick. He was pushing into her deepest places, filling her until she hurt, rubbing her walls with every motion of his hips. "God!" she cried, clinging to his shoulder blades.

"Yeah?" he asked, breathless.

She answered by rocking her hips, inviting him to sink into her.

Daryl growled, thrusting forward and hitting the top of her. "Fuck…" he was panting as he felt himself slipping through her sex.

Carol could feel every last inch of his hardness buried between her legs and she knew she'd never experienced anything like it…it was pure physical pleasure and she already wanted to give in. She knew that if he moved the right way, and hit the right spots, he could get her to climax within seconds. But she wanted to savor it, make it last… So she rocked underneath him, enjoying the rigid flesh that filled her.

Whenever she rocked, her pelvis tilting, he bucked hard, his hips grinding down into hers. He was pushing and pulling back, gasping when the cool air hit the base of his cock…but he always thrust back inside within seconds, making her body jerk. She was so warm, and all he wanted was to stay trapped in her walls. The rain was falling harder and he stared down at the way her breasts glistened…her nipples, two dusky, pink peaks...shining wet. Before he could stop himself, Daryl ducked his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking the rainwater from it. He felt her tremble in response and he gave a sudden thrust, amplifying her pleasure.

"Jesus Daryl…." she gasped underneath him.

He sucked harder and felt her hips rise, allowing his cock to sink in deeper. When he caught her nipple lightly between his teeth and flicked the tip of his warm tongue against it, she drug her nails down his back and swore. He could feel more wetness seeping from between her legs and he took advantage of it, bucking faster. The slickness helped him move inside her. Her pussy was tight, but as long as she stayed wet he could thrust as much as he wanted.

Carol hadn't had sex in years and she couldn't believe she'd wound up underneath this incredible man…his swollen cock pounding relentlessly into her core. There was still pain…his member was stretching her…but she didn't care. She wanted him to keep going. Her head moved from side to side, and her eyes slammed shut as she lost herself in the fluid motion of their hips. His hot mouth was still wrapped around her nipple and he continued sucking, making her body twist and writhe. "Yes…" she breathed.

Daryl heard her and more blood seemed to rush to his manhood, making it throb inside her. He was teasing Carol, tracing her nipple with his tongue and he loved the way her walls opened and closed around him. He finally pulled his mouth from her breast. His eyes were closed, his lips parting as he pushed harder, making her legs shake. "Yeah…" he whined, thrusting into her heat over and over. "Yeah…" The friction was amazing as he penetrated her, reaching places he knew no one else had ever touched. "Fuckin' christ…" Each time he slid inside, she seized around him, holding him in the deepest part of her core. But he always pulled back and felt her slick walls moving against him. Every so often, he slipped free, leaving her empty. She clawed his shoulders and groaned, begging him to enter her. When neither of them could take it anymore, he would buck hard, the tip of his cock dipping inside her again and they would cry out together. He snarled, closing his eyes and savored the feeling of penetrating her all over again.

The rain didn't slow them…if anything, it seemed to invigorate the two lovers. The droplets continued to pelt them, cooling their fevered bodies. Daryl seemed to be the more dominant of the two, but Carol was meeting him stroke for stroke, her hips working against his. In a fit of lust and passion, Carol's natural aggression seemed to surface. Her muscles clenched around him so tightly that it made him whine. She continued to drag her nails down his back, leaving lines on his skin. Wanting as much of him as she could get, Carol wrapped her trembling legs around Daryl's waist. With her heels pressing into his ass, she urged him to go deeper and he obliged, his hips thrusting hard, pinning her to the wet ground.

Growling and swearing, Carol and Daryl used each other like animals. He wanted to possess her…to control her body…claim her, and she wanted him to keep moving. Wet, naked and restless, the survivors pleasured one another in the grass, under a grey sky. It was getting harder for Carol to keep her legs around her partner…his pace was steadily increasing, momentum building…and she had to clench her teeth to maintain her grip on his waist. She focused on the feeling of his hips between her legs…the way he jerked and thrust with no restraint. Her core was already quivering.

"Sonofabitch!" he snarled, driving his throbbing cock into her sex.

"God!" she moaned, arching for him.

Needing one another, the survivors kissed hard. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, tasting her and she continued to writhe underneath him. Her fingers tangled in his hair, keeping their mouths pressed together as he fucked her. She kept her hips angled just right and could feel his dick sliding into her center. She sank her teeth into his bottom lip, wanting more of him.

He loved the way her heels pressed against his ass, forcing him to work harder. She was hungry for his body and he was hungry for hers. Daryl found that the more he focused on his partner, the less he worried about losing his erection. He wanted to keep going for as long as she needed him. He enjoyed the powerful suction between them and hoped that he could satisfy her. She was so warm and tight and he loved being inside her.

They kept kissing, her tongue slipping under his, making his cock twitch. Carol didn't know how much more she could take. He felt so good and every time he pushed, she thought she would come. His wet stomach was gliding against hers as he moved, and she arched her back, wanting as much of their skin to touch as possible. The friction in her core was maddening as his shaft rubbed her walls faster and faster. She could feel the blunt head of his member swelling and wondered if he was close. Even if he was…even if they only had seconds left and she didn't reach her peak, Carol didn't care. His dick felt so strong, thick inside her that she would settle for feeling his orgasm. She could always finish herself afterwards. Panting into his mouth, Carol tugged sharply at his hair and felt him jerk inside her.

He's close…

The idea that she was helping him reach his peak turned Carol on and she sank her teeth into his lip, making him gasp. Daryl thrust hard and she cried out, her hand forming a fist in his hair. He closed his eyes and relished the feeling of being buried in her sex. The warmth and wetness all around him made the hunter's cock drip and he had to keep pushing. As he moved back and forth inside her, he tried to recall if he'd ever experienced pleasure like this. It was all so perfect. He was taking her in the grass, in the wilderness where he'd always been comfortable. He was on top, his instincts urging him to dominate her, and she was struggling underneath him, like a trapped animal. He loved the way she cried out, her sounds…like primal blends of pleasure and pain…they rang throughout the clearing, letting the world know what he was doing to her. He loved the slickness between her legs, the moisture that let him slip inside her…his engorged member filling her until she screamed. He could push in and pull out, teasing her, torturing her…she was at his mercy. Carol's slender fingers were pulling at his damp hair, urging him to fuck her and her body was bucking underneath him, her pelvis colliding with his. He forced himself back in and her core tightened around him instantly. As his shaft filled her sex, the walls began to close in..she was getting so narrow and each time his cock throbbed she would whine, arching her back.

Sweat was mingling with the rain that covered their bodies and Daryl knew they were both nearing the edge. The muscles in his belly were tensing, and Carol was panting against his lips. He wanted to get them there…to drive them both to their peaks. So he steeled himself and kept pounding into her. The hunter was trying so hard to focus on the woman underneath him but somewhere between thrusts and moans, he began to lose himself. The urgency of his need was building and her tongue was massaging his… He increased his speed, moving quickly in and out of her core. Her walls clung to him, not wanting to let him go. So he pushed his hard-on deep into her pussy, making her swear. Keeping himself inside, he continued to thrust, hard and fast. Carol's body rocked to meet his pace and she savored the hardness inside her.

Daryl could feel her softness surrounding him, the tender flesh quivering around his member, making it rigid. She was everywhere at once…her hips pushing up into his, her tongue in his mouth…her fingers in his hair. The hunter was in sensory overload and he pulled away, gasping for air. With his eyes slammed shut, he thrust mercilessly between her shaking legs and let himself swear. "God….fuckin'….dammmitt….jesus….fuck….Carol…..yeah….yeah….yeah…"

Carol moaned, scratching desperately at his shoulders. "Don't stop Daryl…"

He whined, feeling his cock swell.

So close…

"Spread your legs," he pleaded with her.

She released her grip on his waist, her legs easing down and separating for him.

The hunter groaned in ecstasy when he felt the added room. She was so wet and he was keeping her legs open…spread apart…his manhood pulsing inside her narrow passage. "So fuckin' tight…" he growled, grinding his pelvis into hers. "Goddamn…" he worked harder, trying to break her.

Carol could hardly breathe. She dug her nails into his damp skin and moaned every time he sank into her heat. As her pussy continued to tighten around him, Daryl increased his speed, forcing his way into her sex over and over again. Carol's chest was heaving and she threw her head back crying out. "Daryl…yes….yes….there….there….there…."

His cock seemed to hit a spot that made Carol weak. The hunter relished in his find, thrusting hard and letting her sounds echo in his ears.

His skin was so slick with rain and she was struggling to hold on. Her nails slipped down his back, little by little. "I want it!" she moaned. "Like that...right there, yeah, yeah….God….please Daryl….oh….oh….yeah…..please….there….there…yes….do it! Hard! Yes! Oh…my god… I…I'm….Daryl…. Every muscle in her body was tensing as she braced herself for the climax she knew was coming. Daryl never let up, he worked her body, assaulting her pussy and making her writhe underneath him. He controlled her with his cock, knowing that she couldn't resist the hardness he was offering her. His pace never slowed and he was determined to break her. Bracing his broad hands on the grass and clenching his teeth, the hunter rammed his hips forward, pushing his swollen member through her tight heat and hitting the deepest part of her aching sex. With her eyes closed and her back arching, Carol spread her legs as far apart as she could. Daryl's hard-on was buried so deep inside her that she couldn't take it. He continued to fuck directly into her center and she lost control. Her core shuddered violently, the muscles working through a powerful spasm as a flood of wetness gushed from someplace inside her. Her walls fluttered along his length, clasping and unclasping as her body fought to maintain a hold on the rigid flesh that brought her so much pleasure. Carol was frozen in sheer bliss, her nails digging in so hard that they broke the skin on Daryl's shoulder blades. The orgasm rocked her frame making her buck underneath him. "Don't stop Daryl!" she cried, her pussy squeezing him.

The hunter snarled and thrust his hips forward, He hid in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent while his body continued to pleasure her. "Carol…" he growled against her skin.

"Yes?" she breathed, her heart thrumming with impossible speed.

He huffed, his hips colliding with hers. "I'm gonna come…" he nipped at the base of her neck.

Carol rocked with him, loving him. When she felt those strained words hit her skin, she gasped. "It's okay….I want you to…."

Daryl caught her flesh between his teeth and sucked hard. "I'm so close…" he muttered.

Carol's core continued to tremble around his length. She ran her fingers through his dark hair and closed her eyes, savoring the closeness. "Come on…" she pleaded softly, stroking his locks. "Just let go…."

Daryl licked at her bruised skin, tracing the mark he left. He grunted, pulling away from the safety of her neck so that he could stare at her. Carol felt his eyes on her and looked up at him. They focused intently on one another, gasping occasionally. His hips didn't slow and Carol was half-crazed with pleasure. "So….close…." the hunter groaned, his expression pained as he moved above her.

"Let go Daryl…." she rocked her hips, helping him to sink into her depths.

He whined at the sensation of moving through her quivering core. His lips were parting and his blunt nails were clawing at the ground as he felt his member throb painfully within her passage. He was so stiff and he knew he couldn't hold it much longer… "I….I…" but he couldn't speak.

"That's it…" she breathed, feeling him get harder. She pulled his hair, bringing his mouth to hers and their eyes closed as they kissed one another. She pressed her lips against his and tilted her pelvis, inviting him in. Daryl thrust hard, sending his aching cock into the deepest part of her sex. The pressure of her slick, warm pussy wrapped around him was too much and Daryl shuddered as a crippling orgasm rushed forward, spilling from the swollen tip of his manhood. He groaned into her mouth as the semen shot from his cock, hitting her womb…he couldn't stop moving. His hips continued to buck into her sex as he emptied himself inside her. Each time his hips jerked, his cock would spurt. Her insides were stroking him, milking his member. He bucked weakly, releasing all the tension that had been trapped in his body. When he finally stopped, her pussy was filled with his seed and his sedated cock was pulsing.

Carol was mesmerized by the feeling of so much warmth inside her. Her walls were still trembling in the aftermath of orgasm and she groaned softly, savoring the delicious tingle in her core. Her fingers were absently stroking the back of his neck and his forehead was resting against hers. Together, they lay exhausted and panting in the grass…the rain still falling in a steady rhythm all around them.

Daryl's mind was reeling. He didn't know where his energy had come from…but when he was with her, loving her, the hunter seemed to come to life. He felt as though he'd spent weeks trapped in some terrible haze…unsure of himself and his surroundings. But with every touch and every sound, Carol seemed to pull him back into the present. With her body and her words, she'd shown him that there was still something worth living for…something to hold onto in the waking world…and he didn't know how to thank her. So he waited, his entire body aching and throbbing in the wake of his release, and focused on the feeling of her underneath him.

Sighing in ecstasy and contentment, Carol ran her fingers through his hair, happy just to be close to him. Her eyes were closed as she took in all the little details… The sound of the rain, the way the cool water caused goose bumps to rise on her arms and legs…the slick blades of grass at her back…the weight of Daryl on top of her, his warm body covering hers…. Carol wanted to remember it…all of it…just as it was. She wanted to memorize every detail and keep the moment frozen in her mind…she wanted to hold onto it…revisit it again and again… She was smiling as she felt the ends of Daryl's wet hair brushing her face, tickling her. She pulled his scent into her lungs and held it there, savoring it. Licking the clear droplets from her lips, Carol wondered how long the two of them could stay there….isolated, free… "Hey," she said softly.

Daryl groaned but didn't speak.

She laughed lightly and tried to brush some of the damp locks away from the hunter's forehead. "You okay?" she asked.

Daryl eased back with a grunt, and stared down at her. He was propped on his elbows and found himself momentarily stunned by the look on Carol's face. Her cheeks were flushed and she almost seemed to glow. There was a soft smile on her lips and her blue eyes were bright beneath her lashes. He couldn't recall ever having seen that look on her face before…the idea that he'd done that was strangely overwhelming. Daryl just stared at her, fascinated, and didn't realize that the corner of his mouth was slowly hitching up into a half-smile. "I'm good," he finally managed to say. "How 'bout you?"

She chuckled and rocked her hips weakly beneath him. "I'm good," she said. "Better than I've been in a long time."

He slammed his eyes shut when he felt her hips move; his member was still sensitive... surrounded by her heat, and he wasn't ready for more motion just yet. When he eased his eyes open, she was smiling at him. "No complaints then?" he asked.

She laughed lightly. "None. You?" Carol asked, biting her bottom lip.

He snorted. "Nah."

They smirked at one another. Before he could stop himself, Daryl ducked his head, nuzzling her wet brow. She laced her hands at the back of his neck, keeping him close. They stayed like that for several minutes, enjoying one another and waiting for their heart rates to slow. Carol finally felt the need to break the silence. "They're probably worried about us…about you." she said.

The hunter snorted again, his eyes locked on hers. "They ain't got call to be worryin'…I'm just as safe as I can be."

Carol felt her chest tighten. "You think so?"

He nodded. "Wasn't it your scrawny ass that that took out Terminus?"

She laughed again, her fingers combing gently through his hair. "It's amazing what one person can accomplish when they're properly motivated."

Daryl blushed, ducking his head.

As her feelings for him continued to grow, Carol moved her hands to his cheeks and made him look at her. She stared into the stormy blue eyes she loved and decided to tell him what she'd been thinking from the moment she stepped into the clearing. "You know it's true right?" she asked, her voice soft.

There was still a smirk on his mouth as he stared at her. "What is?"

She took a shaky breath and ran her thumb along his jaw. "You're safe with me…I'd never let anything hurt you." she whispered. Carol could feel her eyes growing warm but she was trying not to let her emotions overwhelm her.

Daryl swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. He cared about her, and he knew she cared about him…but he never knew how deeply until that moment. "I know." he managed to say, his voice like gravel.

Carol pulled him towards her and their lips met. They kissed as if they'd been doing it for years. They were comfortable with one another…they'd memorized each other's mouths and they explored with tenderness and enthusiasm. Their lips were wet and they loved the feeling of gliding together. So they let the rain pelt them as they lay tangled in the grass. Only when they were in desperate need of air did the survivors separate, gasping for breath. As much as Daryl and Carol enjoyed the feeling of being physically connected, they knew they couldn't stay in the clearing forever. Thunder rolled overhead, startling them. "We best get back." he said, blinking the droplets away from his lashes.

"Guess so." she said, chuckling as the rain continued to pour.

Daryl smiled at her before shaking his hair like a wet dog, and sending drops of cool water spraying in all directions.

"Quit!" she laughed.

"Why? You're already wet." He said, smirking at her.

She tangled one hand in his hair. "Well you made sure of that."

They both chuckled but the sharp crack of thunder made them jerk. Daryl gritted his teeth as he slowly, carefully pulled himself from her. When his cock slipped from her narrow core, the two survivors hissed at the loss. The simple act of separating was enough to get both of them panting. Daryl eased back, sitting on his calves and wondered when he'd have the chance to be inside her again. She was still on her back and he stared at her sex. He could see evidence of his release trickling from her but the rain was quickly washing his seed from her body. Daryl didn't know why, but there was something incredibly satisfying about knowing that part of him was still inside her. He'd claimed her, in every way that a man can claim a woman…he'd marked his territory.

Carol propped herself up on her elbows and noticed that he was staring at her core. She smirked, blushing hard, and forced herself to sit up. With her knees raised, and her arms wrapped around them, she nodded in his direction. "See something you like?" she asked, teasing.

Daryl smirked back at her. "I see a couple things."

She brought one hand to her forehead and laughed, the thunder nearly drowning out the sound. He whistled at her, "C'mon." The hunter stood on weak legs and walked towards her, holding out his hand.

Carol took the offering and let him pull her off the ground. There was a strong ache between her legs but she didn't mind. Happy and weak with pleasure, the survivors headed back towards the tree where their clothes were scattered. As they walked, Daryl reached out and ran a broad hand along her back.

"What are you doing?" she asked, smiling at him.

"Ya got grass all over ya." he said, chuckling.

Carol couldn't help but blush as he stoked her skin, his hand brushing away as much of the grass as he could. He ran his rough palm from her shoulder blades, all the way down her spine and seemed to linger for a moment each time he neared her ass. She finally had to reach around and grab his wrist, stopping him. "Quit." she said.

He smirked at her. "What?"

"We need to get dressed." she said, smiling.

His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. "Why?"

Carol snorted, laughing. "Because we have an entire group of people waiting on us…because it's storming, because if we don't…I get the feeling we'll wind up back in the grass."

Daryl found that idea intriguing. His thoughts must've registered on his face because in the next instant, Carol stooped to collect his shirt and tossed the damp fabric at him. The shirt hit him in the chest with a slap and he fumbled to catch it.

"Get dressed." she said, smirking at him.

"Fine," he said, slipping the shirt on and working to fasten the buttons.

Carol sighed as she found her panties and pulled them up her legs. "It was fun, wasn't it?" she asked, glancing at him.

He smirked as he pulled his boxers off the ground and stepped into them. "It was."

She chuckled and searched for her bra. "You ever been naked outside before?" Carol asked, genuinely curious.

Daryl snorted. "Not by choice." He was yanking his pants up his legs.

She laughed at that. "I'm guessing there's a story there."

He rolled his eyes, slipping his belt through the loops on his pants. "Just Merle bein' a dumbass…bastard locked me outta the house when we were kids."

Carol smiled as she fastened her bra. "You'll have to tell me about it…when we're not in the middle of a storm."

The hunter's expression softened. He picked up his vest and slipped it on. "Maybe."

She was pulling the tank top on over her head. "I'd love to hear," she said. "Really. You never talk about Merle…it might do you some good."

Daryl shrugged before stooping to grab her shirt. When he stood, handing it to her, their eyes met. Carol could see the doubt etched into his face. It pained her, and she wanted to help him. Once her shirt was on, and she'd shimmied back into her pants, she reached out, grabbing his arm. "Hey," she said. "It's okay to talk about him. We can talk about anything…you know that right?"

The hunter swallowed hard. He paused, gnawing his bottom lip before answering her. "Even 'Phia?" he asked, his voice low.

Carol gave him a sad smile but made herself nod. "Yeah…even Sophia."

The survivors stared at one another, each of them grateful for the comfort they'd found in the other's arms….grateful for the trust and the friendship that lead them this far. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently, letting him know that she meant what she said. Daryl applied pressure, loving the strength and the warmth of her grip. When they separated, they were both dressed. Their clothes were soaked through and they both looked a little worse for wear, but they were happy.

"Let's go." she said.

Daryl nodded, falling into step beside her. When they reached the edge of the clearing, he grabbed his bow and Carol picked her pack up off the ground, along with her rifle. She moved past him, heading for the woods, but he caught her elbow stopping her.

"Hey," he said. "Look." He pointed towards the shack he'd seen earlier.

Carol followed his gaze and her lips parted. "What is it?"

Daryl pushed the damp hair out of his eyes. "Don't know. Might be a barn. Figure it's our best bet for the night."

"You thinking we should bring the group back this way?"

He nodded. "Ain't like we got a whole lotta choices…'n this storm's only gonna get worse."

"Sounds good to me. Let's head out." She smiled at him.

Daryl smiled back and the two of them disappeared into the forest.

Rick was pacing. He had one hand cupping his forehead and the other on his hip. "I never shoulda let her go," he muttered to himself.

"I'm sure they're fine." said Michonne.

The group was huddled just inside the woodline. Only Abraham remained in the middle of the empty road. The man stood, with his rifle in his arms, and kept watch.

"She just let him take off…'n then she told me she 'd bring him back…I just…"

But Michonne stepped into the deputy's space and placed her hand on his shoulder. "They're fine." she said again, her eyes locked on Rick's. "I think it would take more than a little rain to keep those two from getting back."

Rick sighed, stepping away from her. "I hope you're right."

"I am." she insisted, her voice firm.

Another argument was burning on the deputy's tongue, but he and Michonne froze, both of them looking up when they heard rustling in the leaves. Everyone in the group tensed. They stood, with weapons raised and braced themselves for whatever was coming. Michonne drew her sword and Rick pulled the pistol from his waistband. With their eyes trained on the woods, the survivors waited. Carl had Judith cradled against his chest and he held her tight, trying to comfort her and keep her from crying. Glenn, Maggie, Rosita, Sasha, Noah and Tara all dug their heels into the soft earth and widened their stances. Knives and rifles were clutched in slick palms and hearts began to pound as the seconds ticked by. Father Gabriel had his hands clasped and he was praying, the sound almost muffled by the rain. Eugene was sitting at the base of a nearby tree, his head in his hands as he rocked back and forth. "Nobody move." Rick hissed. The survivors obeyed, each of them waiting for the next order.

The rustling grew louder and louder…whatever was making the sound seemed to be getting dangerously close. Swallowing hard, Maggie cocked her gun. Just then, thunder crashed overhead and two familiar figures emerged from the thick of the forest. They were drenched, their clothes dark with rain and plastered to their bodies, but it was Daryl and Carol. The survivors seemed to release one collective sigh of relief, each of them lowering their weapons in turn and wiping at their damp brows.

"Jesus…" Glenn groaned. "We almost shot you two."

Daryl and Carol bowed their heads, both of them feeling guilty for making the others worry. The two of them exchanged nervous glances before lifting their chins. Carol knew that they could try and offer up weak excuses…explanations for their prolonged absence, but she decided to keep it simple. "Daryl found something…a barn. I think there's more than enough room for all of us."

The hunter spoke up, not wanting to place all of the burden on Carol. "It's a ways back. We should start movin' now…before this shit gets any worse." He looked up at the darkening sky.

"Alright." said Rick, as he tucked the pistol back into his belt. "You heard him. Let's go."

Rosita ran towards the road to grab Abraham and the others quickly gathered their belongings. Rick moved to stand in front of Daryl and Carol, eyeing both of them. There was definitely judgment in the man's gaze and the two companions had to work to keep their masks on.

"Something wrong?" Carol asked, feigning ignorance.

Rick narrowed his eyes at her and cocked his head to one side. "Forget somethin?" he asked.

She swallowed hard but maintained her composure. In her mind, Carol was quickly sorting through all the possible evidence of what she and Daryl had done in the clearing. She gnawed her lip, wondering if there was grass in her hair…had Daryl left a mark on her somewhere?

Oh shit…

She remembered the way he bit her neck just before he came. She was tempted to reach up and hide the bruise, but that would only incriminate both of them. So, donning her mask, Carol met Rick's gaze and pretended everything was fine. "What?" she asked, hoping she sounded genuinely confused.

"The radio…" said the deputy.

Carol was tempted to laugh as she released the breath she'd been holding. "Oh, that."

Rick's hands were on his hips as he stared at her. "I tried callin' ya…didn't get an answer…thought somethin' happened."

Carol could feel heat creeping into her cheeks.

Something did…

But she was calm under pressure and forced a soft smile. "I'm sorry…the storm picked up while I was out there…couldn't hear over the thunder." She could see Daryl in the periphery of her vision and he was shifting anxiously from one foot to the other.

Rick stared long and hard at the woman in front of him. He sensed that there was something she wasn't telling him, but she kept her word…she brought Daryl back and they both appeared to be unharmed. The deputy figured that was what mattered most, but he still wasn't satisfied with Carol's explanation.

"We gotta move," said Daryl. "The wind's pickin' up."

With a huff, Rick stepped away from his two charges and began rounding up the rest of the group. Daryl and Carol were still standing together. While the others were distracted, she reached discreetly for his hand and squeezed it. They held the connection, each of them glad that the other hadn't revealed anything. Before anyone had a chance to notice, the two people separated, both of them acting as if nothing had happened. Several minutes later, everyone was loaded down with gear and Daryl and Carol lead their companions back into the woods, following the trail that would take them to the barn.

The survivors were soaked, shivering and panting by the time they reached the break in the trees. Daryl and Carol both froze as they stepped out into the clearing. It was strange…surreal to revisit the place where they'd discovered one another. Their eyes darted to the spot in the grass when they'd lain together. The memories were vivid behind their eyes and Carol swore she could see them, naked and wet, wrapped around each other…the two of them struggling in the grass…color spread across her face and she suspected Daryl was going through something similar. They were both frozen in place.

Eugene's voice broke the trance. "I was told that there would be a barn. Am I correct to assume that we're nearing our destination?"

Carol and Daryl stared at one another. There was something painful about disturbing the sanctity of their clearing…about leading so many people into a place that held so much meaning for them..but they didn't have a choice. Carol gave Daryl a sad smile and shrugged.

The hunter answered with a subtle nod and hefted the bow on his back. "C'mon!" he called to the others. "It's through them trees over there!"

The survivors poured into the clearing and started running towards the barn in the distance. Daryl and Carol lead the pack, the two of them jogging side by side through the wind and rain. When they reached the abandoned structure, Daryl banged hard on one of the doors and listened for the sound of life inside. The survivors tensed, their weapons in their hands, but there didn't seem to be any movement on the other side of the door. Daryl looked over his shoulder, locking eyes with Rick, and the deputy nodded. Together, the two men lifted the heavy wooden beam that served as a latch. Then, grunting and struggling, they pulled the doors open. Carol motioned for everyone to get inside and the survivors piled in.

Once the entire group was safe within the walls, Rick and Daryl made sure to close the doors, securing them as best they could with a thick chain that had been left on the barn floor. Shaking and dripping wet, the survivors slowly and cautiously began exploring their new surroundings. Sasha and Rosita pulled flashlights from their packs, shedding light on every dank corner of the barn. The floor was covered in dirt, bits of straw…and the stale air was heavy with the scent of livestock. As the group crept through the dark space, they found that the structure was significantly larger than it looked from the outside. They were all grateful for the room and knew they'd been lucky to find something relatively secure.

As the storm raged outside, the survivors began unloading their gear. They shrugged off their packs and dropped their weapons, using their meager belongings to stake claims. Once everyone had chosen a spot, Rick assigned watch shifts. Little by little, the exhausted companions began to relax. Abraham got a small fire going and the survivors gathered around it. They divided what was left of the meat and ate in silence.

Daryl was half-starved, having missed the initial meal, and he tore into his food like an animal. As he chewed, the hunter glanced at Carol who was sitting beside him. "What is this anyway?" he asked, wiping at his mouth.

Carol chuckled and shook her head. "Don't worry about it."

His eyes narrowed, but he decided not to press her. "Fine, keep your damn secret." He took another bite, tearing at the meat. Grease ran down his chin, and shone on his fingers. "I don't care what it is…this here's the best thing I've had in a while."

Carol was sitting with her legs crossed, her hands resting in her lap. She turned, staring at Daryl, a small smirk on her mouth. "Really?"

Daryl glanced at her, confused.

"Would you say it's the best thing you've had all day?" she asked, trying like hell to keep from laughing. She had to bite the corner of her lip.

The hunter stopped chewing and wiped his mouth again. After he swallowed and had several seconds to process what she'd said, he could feel warmth creeping across his face. He tried not to think about the way she moaned when he kissed her core, or the taste of her nipple in his mouth…the tight peak wet with rain….

Christ…

The last thing he needed was a damn erection while he was surrounded by his friends and family. But if Carol could keep her mask on, so could he. "Naw," he finally said, his voice low. "Ain't the best thing I had today." He let his eyes linger on her for half a heartbeat and then refocused on his meal.

Carol could feel herself blushing and she knew she needed a minute. "Think I'm gonna check on Carl and the baby." she said, glancing quickly at her companions before excusing herself.

Daryl smirked to himself as he heard her leave.

She started it…

He continued to tear hungrily at the meat and didn't seem to notice the stares he was getting. Tara and Rosita had been sitting on the opposite side of the fire, watching the odd exchange between Daryl and Carol.

Rosita had one knee raised and her arm was draped lazily across it. With her head cocked to the side, she smirked at the hunter. Tara was slumped beside her, leaning her head on Rosita's shoulder.

"What was that?" Tara asked under her breath.

Rosita just smiled, shaking her head.

"What?" Tara asked again, easing away from her companion so that she could look her in the eyes.

Rosita met her friend's gaze and whispered to her. "You didn't think it was strange that Carol went after him alone?"

Tara's brows knit together. "I guess not. I don't know. She seems like she can handle herself."

"Think about it…" Rosita whispered. "They both just disappear into the woods…just the two of them?"

Tare still didn't follow. "So?"

Rosita rolled her eyes sighing. "Seriously?"

Tara just shrugged.

The women made sure to keep their voices down. "They're fucking." Rosita whispered.

Tara's lips parted in disbelief as she stared at her friend. "What?!"

"You wanna bet on it?" Rosita asked.

Tara was still confused. "How do you know? I mean…" she paused, trying to collect her thoughts. "Carol likes guys?"

Rosita sighed, her arms folding across her chest. "Trust me. They're a thing. Did you not just seem them eye-fucking each other?"

Tara blew out a breath. A part of her still wasn't convinced. "What are we betting?" she asked.

Rosita smirked. "Watch shifts. I'm supposed to be with Noah tonight. If I'm right, you swap with me."

Tara considered the offer. "Fine. But how are you planning to prove your little theory by the time your shift rolls around? We're all stuck in here together…you really the two of them are just gonna have at it while we're all under the same roof?"

Rosita rubbed the back of neck, thinking. "Just keep an eye on them. You'll see. Either she'll go to him or he'll go to her."

"Fine," Tara huffed. "You're on."

The two women shook on it.

As the wind howled beyond the wooden slats of the barn's walls, late afternoon gradually gave way to early evening. The daylight began to fade as the world was cloaked in shadow. The survivors did their best to tread carefully in their temporary home. The only light came from the small fire they'd warmed their meat over.

One by one, the survivors arranged their meager bedrolls. Some of them simply curled up on the stale straw and created make-shift pillows out of bundled clothes. Others lay shivering beneath thin blankets they'd brought with them.

Daryl had chosen to bed down in a dark corner of the building. He was lying on his back, his ruck-sack bundled beneath his head. With one knee raised, and an arm resting on his stomach, the hunter closed his eyes and tried to let sleep take him. He tried to put her out of his head…he didn't want to think about her anymore. But it was no use. When he closed his eyes, she was there…pale and naked in the grass, screaming his name. He could still hear it… When they first hurried into the barn, he never imagined that it would be so hard to keep himself from touching her. Anytime she walked past him, or sat next to him, he wanted to grab her hand. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, taste her…but he couldn't.

He sighed. They hadn't discussed what happened…not that they'd had many chances. Daryl didn't know what the clearing meant to her. Were they supposed to behave differently? Treat each other differently? They weren't a couple…at least he didn't think they were. The term seemed inadequate. Carol was more than a woman he'd slept with…she was a partner, an ally. He knew that she was strong.

Woman don't need ya to hold her hand…

But he liked to think that this was all weighing on her as much as it was on him. Daryl drummed his fingers on his stomach and wished that she were next to him. He was cold, tired, and all he wanted was to touch her again.

Ya can ask her…

"Nah…" he growled softly to himself. He wasn't ready for that. He didn't have the courage to ask her to lie with him and even if he did, Daryl wasn't entirely sure that she'd say yes. This was new for both of them and he guessed it would only make things worse if he tried to rush her into something. Not to mention the looks he knew they'd get from the others.

Would it be that bad?

The longer he laid in that dark corner, alone and cold, the more the hunter questioned his choice. He was part of a strong, caring family…they wouldn't judge him if he suddenly chose to bed down with a companion…even it happened to be Carol. They'd been reckless in the clearing…vulnerable, both of them in desperate need of comfort and reassurance. Maybe she wasn't ready to be close to him again…now that the haze of lust wasn't clouding their minds.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been lying there, staring up into the blackness above him, but he could hear the light snores and occasional grunts of his fellow survivors as they gradually let sleep claim them. Daryl released a heavy sigh, wishing that he could just put everything out of his mind and rest for a few hours. As he worked to get comfortable, he heard footsteps approaching. Sitting up suddenly, he squinted through the dark, trying to make out the intruder.

Carol smiled down at him, her arms folded across her chest. "Hey," she said softly.

His lips parted when he realized it was her. "Hey." he said, his voice a rasping whisper.

They were both silent for several seconds, neither knowing how to move forward. It was Carol who finally spoke. "So…" She leaned against the nearest wall.

"Yeah?" he said. He could barely see her through the gloom.

"I noticed that there's a hayloft…" she spoke softly and tried to contain the nervous giggle that was bubbling in her chest.

Daryl swallowed hard, letting her words sink in.

She's askin'…

With just a few words, she'd done what he couldn't do. "That right?" he said.

She chuckled quietly, trying to keep the noise down. "Yeah. I was thinking I'd bunk up there for the night."

Daryl gnawed his bottom lip, considering the statement. "Sure you'll be alright up there? By yourself?" he asked.

Carol could feel herself blushing and she pushed away from the wall. "Maybe." she said. With that, she made her way across the barn, towards the ladder that lead to the hayloft. He could hear her footsteps fading as she left him there.

Daryl had never considered himself to be any sort of expert when it came to the opposite sex, but he could've sworn that she'd just extended an invitation. He was instantly intrigued and wanted to follow her…but if he rushed after Carol, it would seem strange to the others.

That matter?

He was starting to believe that it didn't. Daryl knew what he wanted…he wanted to be with her. The only thing standing in the way was his own foolish fear. After several minutes of doubt and debate, the hunter found that he was tired of arguing with himself. He stood, dusting off his clothes as best he could, and made a decision.

Treading lightly, he walked to the opposite end of the barn, not caring if anyone saw him. His heart began to pound when he reached the ladder. He gripped the wooden railing, his fingers curling around the edges as he stepped onto the first rung. He was slow at first, his movements stiff and awkward as he tried to avoid slipping. But the higher he climbed, the more his anticipation began to build. His breathing was shallow and his palms were damp. When he finally hauled himself onto the loft, with a grunt, he could feel straw under his hands. It was pitch black and he had to be careful as he crawled forward, searching for Carol.

She heard him coming. The wooden rungs creaking under his weight… Her heart thrummed in her chest and she smiled at the surrounding darkness. She knew it would be hard for him to find his way, so she ignored her own nervousness and started crawling in his direction.

The two survivors collided, her hand brushing his. He smiled and let her lead him back to the spot where she'd chosen to bed down. In the far corner of the hay-loft, she'd piled the straw, doing her best to create a comfortable sleeping arrangement. The minute they were there, she grabbed his long hair and pulled his mouth to hers.

Daryl couldn't stop the groan that escaped him. It had only been a few hours since they'd touched each other but he'd missed her. He felt her tongue slip past his and blood immediately rushed to his groin. She eased down, lying on her back, and the hunter followed. With his weight trapping her, Carol bucked up into him and tugged at his hair. They were hungry for one another. He was lying in between her legs, his pelvis grinding slowly, purposefully into hers as they kissed.

She gasped when she felt his arousal…the sudden hardness pressing into her crotch. All she wanted was to feel him. Carol sucked his bottom lip and bucked against him. Daryl pulled his mouth from hers and swore quietly into the crook of her neck. "Fuck…" he breathed, the warm air hitting her skin.

Carol could feel him getting harder, his erection straining under his clothes. She continued to rock underneath him, savoring the hardness. "God…" she whispered, her eyes closing. "I've been thinking about this all afternoon."

Daryl paused to suck at the base of her neck, the action was sudden and Carol felt wetness hit her core.

"Me too," he growled softly. "Been wantin' to touch ya…" he sucked her neck again, loving the way her body arched into his.

Carol bucked her hips, making him whine. "Then touch me." she whispered.

Daryl pulled away from the safety of her neck and stared at her.

She reached for one of his hands and tugged, guiding him to her stomach. She started moving him down her belly until they reached her waistband. Carol released his hand, knowing he could take it from there. Anxious, Daryl licked his lips and started to move down. His eyes went wide and his lips parted in awe when he realized that she'd already unfastened her belt and unzipped her pants. "Almost like ya had this planned…" he growled, amusement in his tone.

She chuckled quietly. "I might've thought ahead."

Daryl shook his head slowly, smirking at her. Refocusing on his task, he slid his hand down, under her panties. They both groaned and he could feel her soft curls. She bucked again, urging him to continue. Daryl's breathing had grown ragged and he explored her sex. He found her heat…she was already dripping wet. With his eyes slammed shut, the hunter used his fingers to toy with the sweet spot between her legs. He teased her slit, tracing it lightly…the tip of his middle finger pressing in just a little when he slid down to her entrance.

Carol couldn't take it anymore. Sweat had broken out under her clothes and she needed to feel him inside her. "Please…" she whispered, her other hand still tangled in his dark hair. "Touch me."

Daryl could feel his cock throb the instant those words left her mouth. Bracing himself for the wetness he knew he would find, the hunter pushed his middle finger into her heat. She was so slick, tight, warm, soft…and Daryl nearly came. Carol was using one hand to cover her mouth as she tried to keep from screaming…Daryl had to bite his lip to stay quiet. The idea that he could get her to climax, while they were in a barn full of other people, turned the hunter on and he began to pleasure her…his finger moving in and out of her sex. The wetness continued to seep from her, coating his hand, and he wasn't sure how much more he could take. He needed to fill her. He thrust his finger in harder, faster, and Carol's pussy was clamping down around him. He knew she was close…her legs were shaking, but suddenly she reached for his hand, stilling him.

Confused, Daryl stared at her.

"I wanna come with you inside me…" she breathed.

The hunter's mouth went dry and he quickly pulled his finger from her core. He fumbled with his belt while Carol worked her pants down her legs, along with her panties. She was naked from the waist down and Daryl stared at her as he set his belt aside. He quickly unbuttoned his fly and tugged the zipper down. When he'd pushed his pants and boxers down below his hips, he crawled over her, kissing her.

Carol let his tongue fill her mouth as her body bucked underneath him. She felt his hardness brush her sex and she gasped against his lips. Daryl sucked her tongue before pulling away. "I can't wait no more…"

"Then don't…" she whispered, her fingers lacing at the back of his neck. She spread her legs, giving him the room she knew he needed. Daryl reached down and gripped his cock, guiding it to her entrance.

"Right there.." she moaned softly, her walls opening in anticipation.

With the tip of his tongue resting between his lips, Daryl pushed the head of his cock inside her. The wetness eased the way, helping him slip into her sex. Carol was biting her lip so hard, she worried she would break the skin. Daryl knew that they both needed help staying quiet. Releasing his manhood, he placed his hand carefully over her mouth. He stared at her to make sure it was okay. When she nodded, he used his free hand to reach for his belt. He brought the leather to his mouth and held it between his teeth, forming a crude gag. When they nodded to one another, signaling that they were ready, Daryl jerked his hips, forcing his swollen cock into her core. Carol's eyes slammed shut and she arched her back, her screams muffled by his hand. The pressure around his dick was almost frightening and he bit into the leather hard, knowing he would leave marks.

He had to focus. He had to keep Carol quiet…he couldn't let the belt go, and he had to make sure she hit her peak. Growling around the leather, he ground his hips into hers. They didn't have much time... Carol was rocking underneath him, her body hungry for his cock. Daryl was pushing in, trying to satisfy her needs. She was so slick, her hot sex wrapped around every solid inch of him…and all he wanted was to go deeper…to thrust harder. He pushed and pulled, hitting the top of her, the veins on his shaft rubbing her walls….

As he moved above her, loving her, Daryl knew it wouldn't be the last time. They shared a connection…one that ran deeper than physical attraction. He cared for her…trusted her…and he was going to do everything in his power to stay close to her. So he pumped his hips, working hard between her legs, knowing that she needed it as badly as he did. The friction between their bodies was making his dick jerk and leak, but he had to keep going. He pushed into the soft, warm, wetness of her pussy and felt her tremble in response. Daryl thrust right into her center, loving the feel of her all around him. Her hips were rising to meet him each time he thrust in and their rhythm was perfect.

She spread her legs wider and he bucked harder, wishing they could both just scream. She seemed to get tighter with each passing second and he knew she was close. She was wet before he even got his hand down her panties. So he focused on her, his partner, and gave her everything he had. He could feel blood pouring into his groin, making his member harder, longer inside her, and he let the lust course through him, knowing it would please her. She felt so good, her soft, smooth insides massaging his shaft.

Carol was rocking underneath him, trying to take as much of him as she could. His manhood was filling her core completely, and it hurt to have him stretching her again so soon, but she couldn't control her need. Nothing compared to the feeling of him penetrating her, his hardness sinking in fast and deep, and she had to feel it again. So she tried to keep her walls open for him but her legs were starting to shake.

Daryl was grunting and growling through his gag as they worked together. He was painfully hard and the muscles in his stomach were tensing but he needed to find her spot…that place deep inside her that seemed to hold all her tension. There wasn't a part of her he couldn't reach…he knew that. So he pushed harder, working her body, making Carol writhe.

She was struggling. Daryl's hand was clamped over her mouth and she was forced to breathe through her nose. Carol's lungs were burning and she wanted so badly to scream…to break the silence and stillness of the barn with sounds of lust and pleasure. Daryl loomed over her, strands of dark hair framing his face and the leather belt clutched firmly in his teeth. He was thrusting mercilessly into her aching sex, his motions almost frantic. She could feel herself getting weaker each time he forced his cock inside. Carol's eyes were closed as she moved with him…her pelvis colliding with his.

As they pleasured each other, she found herself thinking of the clearing. They'd been so careful…both of them shaking and scared…it had taken time for her body to adjust to him. Their union was emotional, meaningful…honest. And now…they'd wound up in each other's arms again. Hidden in the dark corner of a hayloft, they struggled together…sweating and grunting, they moved their hips, taking what they needed from each other. There was something sexy and primal about this union. They were desperately racing towards their peaks… rushing…their bodies still partially clothed and covered in sweat. As his member slid back and forth within her walls, Carol arched her back and groaned into his hand.

He could feel her slickness gliding smoothly around the head of his cock…her softness was all around him. She was getting narrow and the tension in her walls made him growl around the belt. As he thrust in and out of her heat, the friction and momentum building, Daryl knew he was nearing the edge. He was growing rigid and he took his frustration out on the belt, biting it hard. Despite his efforts, the hunter knew he couldn't control himself for much longer. She felt too good and he was going to let go. Daryl closed his eyes, giving himself over to every base instinct…every animalistic hunger coursing through his bloodstream. His hips were jerking so fast, drilling her, and he could feel her getting tighter.

Carol was slowly losing her mind. She forgot where she was…how she'd gotten there…all she knew was that Daryl was bringing her incredible pleasure with each stroke and she never wanted him to stop. Her legs were shaking and she could feel sweat forming at the backs of her knees. She arched her back and felt him thrusting violently into her sex. He was moving so fast that her body couldn't take it… Her walls quivered, the muscles clenching involuntarily.

When he felt her core begin to spasm, Daryl bucked hard, pushing through her passage. He forced himself up into her center and continued to move, his pace never slowing. His thick cock rubbed her walls and his entire length was buried inside her pussy. The warmth and wetness proved too much and he snarled, nearly biting through the leather as he moved quickly, in and out of her heat. When his hard-on was completely lost in her center, Daryl jerked his hips and let himself come. Semen shot from the tip of his manhood, filling her, and he continued to buck, letting her wet walls stroke him.

Carol's eyes were slammed shut so tightly that it hurt. Her legs were spread and her back was arched. She clawed desperately at his sides when she felt the burst of warmth between her legs. He was still moving, and his cock was still hard. She knew that it wouldn't last…she only had seconds left to hit her peak. So she focused on him…on the rigid flesh that was still pressing into her deepest places. Carol could feel smaller bursts of warmth and knew that he was still coming. The feeling of his orgasm…of knowing that he'd climaxed within her walls, was intoxicating. Her body seemed to open for him and she felt his swollen manhood spurting inside her. His hips were still jerking between her legs and she let him penetrate her as deeply as he could. With Daryl's long, thick cock sinking into her heat, Carol came. Her entire body was paralyzed as the orgasm rocked her frame. Her insides seized around him, clenching violently, while her core flooded.

He felt the gush of warm, wetness washing out around him and he gave her body one last, good thrust, spilling what was left of his seed inside her. Sedated, and weak with pleasure, the two lovers lay together. Daryl collapsed on her chest and his hand fell away from her mouth. He'd been so lost in lust that he nearly bit through the belt…the worn leather was still between his teeth. His eyes were closed and his nostrils flared with each breath. He let his cheek rest, just over her heart, and waited for the room to stop spinning.

Carol's climax was so intense that she almost cried. He did things to her body that she never knew were possible. He filled her with passion and levels of longing that she'd never experienced before. Her muscles fluttered along his length and the hardness gradually began to subside. Spent and aching, his cock had gone soft between her legs…but she still wanted to keep him inside. Carol wasn't ready to be free of him. She ran her fingers through his hair and waited for her heart to stop racing. She could feel bits of straw clinging to her sweaty legs.

As her fingers combed through his locks, Daryl released a sigh of satisfaction and let the belt fall from his mouth. "Ya alright?" he asked softly, his eyes still closed.

Carol licked her lips and nodded. "I'm okay." she whispered, wishing she knew how to voice the thoughts in her head.

"Lord," he groaned, "That was somethin' else…"

She chuckled quietly. "It was."

Grunting, Daryl propped himself up on his elbows and stared at his partner. As he studied her through the gloom, the hunter felt the need to speak. "Wanted to thank ya," he growled softly. "Shoulda said it before…"

"Thank me?" Carol asked, confused. She tucked a strand of damp hair behind his ear.

Daryl ducked his head for a moment, collecting his thoughts. When he lifted his chin, he cleared his throat and tried to tell her what he was thinking. "For findin' me."

She swallowed hard, unnerved by his raw honesty. "I think we found each other." she whispered, smiling at him. Her hand moved to the side of his face and she felt the familiar scruff she'd grown to love.

The hunter stared at her, his heart still beating heavy in his chest. "But ya came lookin'…ya didn't have to…"

Carol placed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I wasn't gonna let you disappear."

He reached for her face and ran a calloused thumb along the soft curve of her cheek. "Ya found me."

Before she could say anything else, Daryl ducked his head, pressing his lips to hers. As they lay in the hayloft, kissing softly and trying to stay quiet…their bodies still connected, the two broken people realized that they'd found so much more than each other…they found shelter.

Hope you liked it Peonies01! I tried to make it meaningful : ) What did you guys think? I wanna hear from you in the reviews : )

-Sami