A/N: Sorry Daryl was a little rough in the last chapter and Carol seemed a bit weak, but at the end of season 2 they certainly had those characteristics. I'm trying to stay true to the characters and make their connection awkward and difficult but still let it unfold more quickly than it is on the show! This next chapter feels weak to me, but I'm just posting it anyway. With this fanfiction, I'm just kind of letting it flow and not thinking, as opposed to my other writing where I agonize over every word. It's fun! I'm starting to think I should've started with an omniscient POV instead of limiting it to Carol's. Should we be seeing inside Daryl's head too? Reviews and comments, please! Thanks so much to everyone who has taken the time to post a review so far. I love you madly for encouraging me to continue!

Carol avoided Daryl as much as possible the next day, which was easy since he'd left early to head to the woods for some hunting. He hadn't told anyone what had happened over the last couple of weeks, including whether or not he'd found Merle. She was terrified of being alone with him again, but not because she was afraid he would hurt her. He was rough, of course, and sometimes brutal in the way he treated her. He'd yelled at her before, insulted her, hurt her with his words. But last night was different. She was embarrassed, of course, but above all she was confused. For a moment it had seemed as though Daryl was feeling more than anger. He seemed to be as confused as she was about what was happening between them. She knew she couldn't leave it up to him to figure things out, because he would avoid it by retreating into himself again, and then she might lose him forever.

The two of them couldn't avoid each other that night, because Carol found herself looking for a new place to sleep. Maggie and Glenn had decided they needed some alone time in the bedroom she'd been sharing with Maggie, so Carol waited in the living room to see if she would have an opportunity to go back to her bed. Michonne was on the porch, on watch for their house, and Carol felt safe knowing that she was on guard with her sword. She went into the bathroom to get ready for sleep, wondering where she would end up for the night. In the mirror, she could see the evidence of the sleepless nights she'd spent worrying about Daryl while he was gone. She had bags under her eyes and her skin looked lackluster. She ran her hand up along her neck and into her cropped hair. What did Daryl see when he looked at her? She raised her tank top the way he had the previous night, revealing her breast, and ran her thumb over it as he had done. She imagined him touching her again, and let out a little moan. She felt as though her body was betraying her. She knew she should be angry with Daryl for leaving and then coming back and treating her the way he had, and she was angry. But she couldn't deny the way his touch had made her feel.

A loud knock on the door drew her out of her thoughts. "Who's in there?" It was Daryl. She straightened her shirt, then opened the door and looked at him. He looked down and moved out of her way, clearly uncomfortable.

"We can't avoid each other forever," she said. "I'm stuck out here until Maggie and Glenn are . . . done."

"Just kick him out," he said.

Carol ignored this. "We need to talk about what happened last night." She heard herself saying the words but could barely believe she'd had the courage to bring it up. She knew she didn't have a choice, though. If it were up to Daryl, they would keep acting like nothing had happened. She couldn't bear that.

Daryl hissed, "Just forget about that. It didn't mean nothin'!"

She gasped. "I-I know, I just…I wanted to tell you it's ok, I—"

"It's not ok," he said, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have treated you like that. You deserve better."

"You're right about that," she said, lifting her head. She was starting to realize that she did deserve better than what she'd gotten all her life. She certainly deserved better than Ed, and she had put up with him for far too long. "Everybody deserves a little happiness, I think," she said, hoping some part of him could see that they had a chance for it.

"What's the point, anyway? It's the fuckin' end of the world," he said. "What do you want me to do, pick you some daisies and paint your toenails for you?"

Carol couldn't help chuckling a little at the image. "That would be pretty funny, actually." He smiled a little, and she went on. "I guess if you were going that route with someone it wouldn't be me."

Daryl looked around pointedly. "Are there some women around here I don't know about?"

"Well, Beth…"

"Is a child," Daryl scoffed. "She could be my daughter. What kind of a sicko do you think I am?"

Carol continued, "I guess Maggie's off limits because of Glenn."

Daryl shook his head, moving closer to her. "Nah, she's more like a little sister. And don't say Andrea either – she shot me, remember? Besides, she's more like a sister too."

"What am I, then, to you? How do you see me?" It cost her everything to ask.

"You…" He stepped closer and put his hands on her arms, drawing her toward him. "You're my. . . my. . . " In lieu of an answer, he allowed his lips to softly brush against hers.

Carol pulled away slightly and cocked an eyebrow. "How about Michonne?"

Daryl grunted softly. "That bitch is scary." He pulled Carol closer and kissed her again, softly and lightly, then pulled away and looked at her.

Carol laughed softly. "I don't scare you?"

Daryl closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? Woman, you scare the livin' shit outa me. Why you think I act like this?"

Carol's eyes softened as she reached up to put a hand in his hair. She pulled his face to hers again. "There's nothing to be afraid of," she whispered against his mouth.

"Wait," she said suddenly, pulling away. "You said was your brother."

"Huh?" His eyes were hooded and he was moving his face close to her again.

"Wait, wait," she stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Earlier, you said Merle was your brother."

He sighed and looked down. "He got bit."

"What? When?" She grasped his shoulders and shook a little, forcing him to look at her. "Tell me what happened."

He shook his head. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"But you have to talk about it," she said. "He was your brother and he's gone. What happened?"

Daryl let go of her and turned away a little. "I said I don't wanna talk about it," he said.

Carol sighed. "Fine," she said. "When you're ready, I'm here to listen." She hated the sound of tears behind her voice, and steeled herself so that she wouldn't cry. She'd felt such a wonderful connection just a few moments ago, and now he was distant again. She felt guilty even thinking about her own feelings when he had lost his brother and gone through who knows what kind of hell in the last few weeks, but she couldn't help it. Her lips still tingled from his kiss and she burned to feel his lips on hers again, but the moment had passed.

"Carol?" He was about to step into the bathroom, but had turned to look at her again.

"Yes?"

"You can take the couch. I'll sleep on the floor until I have to take over for Michonne."

Carol curled up on the couch while he was in the bathroom, facing the back of the couch and closing her eyes. She heard him come out again and felt his presence standing over her for a few minutes. He wanted to say something, or to touch her, maybe. Heck, maybe he was regretting the kiss and wanted to apologize for it. She was tired of guessing what he was thinking, so she snuggled deeper into the couch and tried to sleep. After she heard him settle on the floor, she brought her fingers to her lips and offered up a silent prayer that she would feel his kiss again soon. She smiled to herself, thinking maybe she should pray for the courage to make the next move.