AN: I owe you all an apology for taking so long to get this done. My main excuse, I think, is smut burn out. To those of you who read my last fic, Aching Hearts, Blossoming Dreams, there was so much smut in that that I think it's temporarily (I hope) zapped my brain of any further smutty potential. Instead of just hanging onto this and hoping I'd be able to shove some smut in there somehow, I decided to post it as is so I can move back to Edge or my Marol fic (please, if you can give Merle and Carol a try together, give the fic a go. I think it's the best thing I've written to date) and also my Buffy/ WD Crossover fic. Did I miss anything out? I feel so very tired so it's a possibility. If this disappoints so much, I can attempt to add an Epilogue once my mojo returns.

I want to take this opportunity to thank everyone for the most amazing amount of support with this fic. Reviews-wise, it's by far my most popular. I'm not sure I quite understand why, but I won't knock it! I have very much appreciated all your comments—I've been completely blown away.

So, with nothing more to chatter about, I bring you the final chapter. I hope it finishes off the story adequately for you all. Much love, Megan.

Chapter Eleven

She could hear the clicks in her head, like the beat of a metronome counting down her remaining days. The beats actually hurt, throbbed, convinced her that whatever precipice she was drifting towards would be the last one she ever faced. And as a background to it all, she heard Merle. She'd have thought she'd hear Daryl, but when things actually cleared enough to make sense to her, she realised that Daryl hardly ever talked unless he was forced to, so why would now be any different? And besides, the deep, booming tones of Merle's interesting views on life would drown out even the most persistent bedside companion. Daryl never stood a chance.

Whatcha doin' lyin' there takin' a nap for, little mouse?

Was he serious? It wasn't like she'd chosen to have their car rammed and her head to bang into whatever the hell it had banged into. Wasn't like she rolled along and lazily thought, 'hey, I might pass out and maybe never wake up again,' just for the hell of it. It wasn't like she'd ever choose to leave Daryl, not if she'd had a choice about it. Not now the Governor was dead and definitely not now there was a chance that Daryl might have feelings for her that matched the ones she'd long held for him.

Need to wake your ass up then, sugar. Might be some in this place wantin' to catch baby brother's eye if you ain't around to keep their asses in line.

Wakefulness seemed a closer goal than it had before, so Carol concentrated, wondering what it would actually take for her to make that first step and just open her eyes, and so while she was contemplating hard on the making that action, it happened. Her lids fluttered then lifted, the sudden light blinding her and confusing her until she realised that for the first time she was seeing the inside of the new prison infirmary. Also, the top of Daryl's head. He hadn't noticed her yet and so she took her time to observe him as he huddled over her body and begged her to wake up. It broke her heart to hear the defeat in his voice. She had no idea how long she'd been out and her head still throbbed like it had a marching band trapped in there, but hearing Daryl and the raw, emotional call for her to not leave him pushed all her discomfort away. She wasn't sure why she was surprised that he was there, by her side, except that usually during any kind of calamity that happened to any of them he was a whirlwind of activity, trying to fix the world with chewing gum when what they needed were miracle bandaids. Just sitting, letting down his guard, baring his heart wasn't the Daryl she knew at all, and knowing that he was like this for her, bound him in her heart forever.

Slowly Carol became aware of a slow, penetrating numbness across her whole body and as soon as she acknowledged it in her head, pins and needles burst to painful life along every limb and her body started an involuntary twitch. A low groan of discomfort slipped passed dry lips and Daryl's head shot up. He stared at her with disbelieving, watery bloodshot eyes and Carol tried to reward him with a smile. Her fingers jerked around his and she realised he was holding her hand, and even though she was only newly conscious, a flush rose on her cheeks.

"Hey." His voice was roughened around the edges. Sparks of remembered desire during their time on the run together filtered through and she trembled like a pathetic woman who'd been trapped in a coma for days. She felt stupid, but invigorated with the knowledge that she was alive.

"Hey, yourself," she answered with her own croaky, rusty vocal chords and then grinned just for the hell of it. Daryl was with her; he hadn't left her side even though she could tell they were back at the prison and he no doubt had plenty to do to help Rick around the place. He was still with her, caring about whether she woke up and apparently feeling quite deeply about the possibility that she might not have.

"How're you feelin'?" He raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles, Carol watching him with awe, a maelstrom of excited activity taking off in her womb.

"Like I've been asleep for a hundred years, and while I was lyin' here, someone drove a truck over my head."

Daryl nodded, his expression completely serious. "That's exactly what happened," he deadpanned, then his lips quirked in a boyish smile that made Carol's heart flip in her chest.

"So, are you my gallant prince come to wake me with a kiss?" Her eyes sparkled while she teased him, relieved he was sticking to the Daryl she'd gotten to know while they were on the run from the Governor and his men.

"Took more'n one," he admitted petulantly but with a fiery blush to his cheeks and Carol giggled, weakly lifting their entwined fingers until she rested his knuckles against his chest. The fabric of his shirt was rough against her fingertips but it was so good to feel his heartbeat that she suddenly shook his fingers loose so she could spread her whole palm there. The steady thrum of his life warmed her hand and Carol sucked in a breath of wonder, her gaze fixated on the place her hand rested against his warm body.

"Did I hear something about some woman making a play for you if I didn't wake up?"

Daryl ducked his head, his eyes surfing the floor in a sudden return of his shyness. "Yeah," he admitted, voice raspy. "All sorts of crazy shit's been goin' down since you decided to up and take a nap."

"Oh." Carol thought about that, tried to recall the faces and names of all the new people that had made the prison their home since suddenly becoming leaderless when the Governor killed half of their group. There were lots of women. That's all she could recall. Her brow crinkled with a sudden crisis of confidence, but deep down she believed in Daryl, believed in how he'd let her in, and knew him well enough to know he wouldn't ever just throw her aside for some pretty face that suddenly appeared. "Should I be worried?"

The first thing she saw was the corners of Daryl's mouth curl up in an irrepressible grin, and then when he finally chanced to meet her gaze, his eyes sparkled with humour. "Do I really look the type to run around on my comatose girlfriend?"

Carol snorted weakly, mindful that she'd been unconscious for some untold period of time, her body weak even if her brain did seem surprisingly alert. "I don't know, Dixon. Took you two years to see what was right there in front of your face. Now you've had a taste, maybe you're not so patient anymore."

"Maybe I'm still waitin' to cash in that raincheck someone's been promisin' me, danglin' things in front of me like a carrot in front of a mule," he kidded though his lips were turned up in amusement and his butt was wiggling a niche beside her thigh on her narrow bed. ""How the hell d'you hear that, anyway? The Doc was here hours ago. You ain't been awake that long."

"Merle."

He looked scared for a moment, then the expression was carefully wiped clear from his face and his eyes softened in memory of his brother.

"This part of that brain injury shit the doc was warnin' me you might be sufferin' when you woke up?"

"Definitely worth considering, but I'm pretty sure I was hearin' him before I passed out. Before I got hit in the head, too."

Daryl's eyes widened and he stared at her like he wasn't quite sure if she was going crazy or if he should envy her the unexpected link to his brother.

"What kinda shit's he tellin' you?" There was a tinge of jealousy that he couldn't quite hide and Carol ran her palm up Daryl's chest to curl around his neck, tugging him close enough to rest against her forehead as she lay exhausted against her pillow. He cooperated, his lids growing heavy as he breathed in deeply at the unaccustomed closeness.

"He's my little redneck voice of reason," she whispered against his lips. "Kicking my butt when I need it, tellin' me it's time to wake up for you. Makin' sure I keep my head out of my ass."

A gentle smile blossomed on Daryl's lips as a happy tear squeezed from the corner of Carol's eye.

"Sounds like my big bro," grumbled Daryl, and then he drew back, depositing a chaste kiss on her cheek before he sat up fully and Carol panicked that he was about to leave.

"I need ghost Merle around like I need a hole in the head," Carol desperately proclaimed with faux-irritation, shooting Daryl a filthy look though really she was feeling a little honoured to be hearing Merle's little messages.

Daryl sniffed, ducked his head to stare at the floor, struggling with whatever trauma he'd had to deal with while she was gone, and then finally he looked up, a huge smile transforming his face.

"Get ready for double vision, then, 'cause you needed two of them holes to cure you of a swelled head." He delivered the punch line with a wink and Carol snorted loudly before being forced to regret her acknowledgement of his attempt at humour with a drawn out groan of pain. She raised a cautious hand to her head and hesitantly prodded around through short, spikey hair, not wanting to investigate too close in case she ended up sticking her fingers inside her own skull.

"How long was I out?" The bags under Daryl's eyes and the exhausted slump of his shoulders indicated it was a while, but then their general health wasn't the greatest these days and she felt so weak anyway that maybe she looked a ton worse than him and didn't even know it.

"Coupla days," he admitted finally, looking out the window rather than at her. It told her things—told her that it had been long enough for him to almost lose hope she'd ever come out of it, that he'd suffered emotionally at her potential loss. "Doc said your brain was swellin' and she needed to drill some holes in your head to relieve the pressure." He peered at her intently, something obviously on his mind that was really bothering him. "Had to bring back those two that were with the Governor. Rick's had them paired up with either Glenn or Tyreese to take watch. Ain't trustin' 'em yet, but I think he wants to let 'em stay."

She could tell it chafed his hide something fierce to have them within the prison fences, men that had probably been as close to friends as Merle had had in that town. Men that had almost killed them when they'd followed the Governor's orders and hit their car. No matter how much he wanted them gone, though, Carol knew she and Daryl would have been dead or walking the Earth as animated dead by now without them.

"They helped us, Daryl. They deserve a chance."

He glared at her, his mouth a hard line but eventually he nodded. He stood up abruptly.

"I'm gonna go fetch the doc, let her know you're awake an' maybe she'll unhook you from all these machines." Before she could raise her hand or beg him to stay, he marched out the door looking for somewhere else to be.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

While Dr. Steven's had given her a clean bill of health two weeks after she woke up, Hershel and Rick insisted Carol take it easy for another week at least, forcing her to rest instead of being involved in the cooking, in watch, in clearing the growing number of walkers now beginning to crowd against the fences. In caring for the small crowd of children that now added laughter and innocence to their prison existence. She was feeling guilty and useless, watching her small world turn without much effort at all on her part and everyone else bustling about their business while she was forced to the sidelines, still feeling weak and angry at herself for causing that weakness in the first place. No, she wasn't being rational, but she had cabin fever almost as bad as before when she and Daryl had fled the prison in the darkness of night. She saw things that confused her, teased her and made her jumpy and distrustful. Most of the Woodbury people had fit into prison life with surprising ease, the majority still gratefully thanking Rick on a daily basis for taking them in. They'd all jumped in with willing hands, helping to halve the work, keeping the place safe. Some were making a beeline to try and get in good with Daryl—who was in good with Rick, and then there were the women. They weren't blatant, just there, working alongside him, helping him—Sascha, Michonne, Karen. Since leaving the infirmary, the prison was busy, so while Carol didn't doubt that Daryl was all in with her, they spent next to no time together and it was really starting to play on her confidence.

Even her dealings with Judith had been kept at a minimum, Beth taking over most of the duties and leaving Carol with little else but changing diapers or folding clothes. Beth did the feeding, most of the nursing and settling, and Carol felt as useful as a used up, washed out dirty old rag. It didn't help to sit at the table at dinner, listening to Glenn and Maggie talking about the walker threat along the fence, the run to The Spot and how they nearly didn't make it out. Everyone was still living on some kind of sharpened edge except for her, nestled away and wrapped in bubble wrap like she was too precious to move.

Just like before, panic started to build in Carol's chest. Her vision started to swim as she desperately tried to cling hold of the faces of these people that sat down with her eating their dinner while sharing their day, but the tears made it difficult. A startling flash of light lit up the interior of the common room and then within seconds a tremendous boom of thunder made the windows rattle. a Carol dropped her fork, the utensil bouncing with a clang against her plate before pitching unhampered to the floor.

"Where's Daryl?" she asked suddenly, jumping to her feet, and Maggie seemed to launch to her own, even though her eyebrows were knit together in confusion.

"He's on watch, but Karen already took him up his dinner."

Carol's hands curled into fists at her side and her chin fell to her chest for a minute while she contemplated. Taking a deep breath, steadying herself against the panicked shuddering through her limbs, she scanned the others in the room and quickly picked out Karen, letting her breath slide from her lungs in one relieved gush.

"It's raining," Carol announced, leaving her seat and immediately heading out of the prison. She caught a glimpse of Maggie's frown as the brunette checked the windows and found that there were no raindrops yet before shrugging her shoulders and dropping back down in her seat. Carol knew she was acting a little crazy—and that her acting crazy had already almost got them killed once before—but suddenly the need to be with Daryl and out from the watchful eyes of the others was overwhelming.

The sky had already darkened with the world's interpretation of God's fury when Carol threw open the door from the prison and rushed out into howling wind. She was momentarily stunned at how cold it was and how quickly it burrowed beneath her clothing. She shivered, then jumped as lightning slashed furiously through the sky and the ground shuddered beneath her feet with the strike and answering crack of thunder. It seemed louder than she'd ever known a storm to be and it was frightening, being outside and exposed in such raw elements as rain and electricity, but Carol had a goal and that was enough to pry her feet from where they'd stuck to the cement just outside the cellblock's door. She hurried down the steps and ran to the tower, gasping in shock the second freezing needles of rain stabbed at her from the sky.

She was soaked by the time she made it across the yard and to the top of the tower, the light fading fast. Daryl leaned against the far wall, watching the doorway as she flung her body through it. She stopped just as suddenly as another booming clap of thunder shook the small building, hitting her like a blow to the body, and fear shot through her before Daryl's warm gaze centred her and made her feel instantaneously safe. His head was tipped to the side, checking out her sodden appearance, her hair curling slightly where it was growing back from the burr holes that had saved her life.

"Hey." His greeting was steeped in amusement, and before her his gaze hit the floor and he chewed the insides of his cheeks to hold back the grin she could see making the corners of his mouth twitch. Carol could see how her insane rush out into the elements would seem rather rash and entertaining, not that it slowed down her pulse any.

She couldn't stifle the burst of laughter that bubbled free from her as she contemplated him—looking for all the world like a little boy that had just had a treasure trove of toys dumped right into his lap when he'd been on the cusp of being bored to death.

"Hey yourself," she countered, then waited, wondering if he was on the same page as her and desperately trying not to get disappointed at the possibility that he wasn't. It had been weeks since they'd killed the Governor, weeks since they'd accepted Martinez and Schumpert into the group, and plenty of time for her to recover from her near death experience. As far as she was concerned, it was time for Daryl to put his money where his mouth was or cut her free. God, she hoped he didn't cut her free.

"Is it time for my raincheck?"

Without warning her heart started thumping even more frantically and she placed her hand absently against it, desperately trying to calm down. Daryl took a hesitant step toward her, his gentle blue eyes wary of her fainting clean away, she suspected, and Carol gasped as his fingers made contact with her bare arm.

"You run all the way out here without a coat?"

She nodded stupidly, unable to tear her gaze from him, wanting so much to not talk but to touch, to hold. She barely felt the cold, barely registered the howling wind and rain that was now barraging the tower and making the windows rattle jarringly in their frames. All she could see was Daryl, the way his clothes were haphazardly thrown together but which always worked in some magical way to increase her temperature, that red rag dangling from his back pocket and drawing her drooling gaze to his ass. The way he wore leather hitched her breath in her chest, the straggly hair that grew too long but seemed just the way he liked it and made her itch to run her fingers through it, dirt and all. The smudge of dirt or blood on his cheek that he always wore like warrior paint, and the scruff he had fostered that surrounded tender lips that she was dying to taste and be reminded that they felt as soft as they looked. She knew she was staring at him like she was starving, and then the thought of food reminded her that Karen had brought him his meal and her heart squeezed painfully tight.

"Karen brought you dinner." Would there be no end to these stupid statements that seemed to erupt from her mouth? She wasn't used to being the one that acted awkwardly, having stayed comfortable in her role of the teasing, suggestive friend, but suddenly it all meant too much, maybe more than it should, but they'd started something outside the prison walls while the Governor was hunting them down and Carol found herself wholeheartedly decided to not let it go.

"That she did." He watched her, a smirk sitting confidently on his lips—confidence something that she was newly anticipating in her encounters with Daryl.

"I thought that was my job." Her voice was husky and breathless, petulant and accusatory, and Carol knew if she hadn't been obvious before, a man as observant as Daryl Dixon would have picked up on it for sure by now.

"Don' worry," Daryl said, amusement strong in his tone as he watched her shuffle from one foot to the next. "I set her straight."

"Oh." Carol's anxiety deflated like a balloon, relief making her feel almost giddy. "That's…good. Thanks."

"Ain't nothin'." Daryl shoved his hands in his pockets and took a tentative step forward. "You didn't answer my question."

As she stood still, watching him warily while he moved closer to her, she shook with a more powerful jolt of nerves than she'd ever experienced in her life. This was stupid. They'd kissed, they'd been hot and heavy when they'd been hiding from the Governor, they'd touched each other and had made a promise to each other. Why had a knock to her head and a subsequent coma robbed her of all the courage she'd worked up and apparently expended already?

Her throat was dry and her lungs felt like all her air had been slowly seeping out and only now they were empty did she get a warning that she still had to breathe. The air around her seemed to hum with electrical sparks as he stopped in front of her and stared intently into her eyes.

"I didn't?" The words sounded strangled coming from her throat and were delivered into the heaviness of the air between them, Carol cringing in embarrassment.

"It's rainin'."

Yes. Yes, it was raining. Carol was pretty sure she'd said something similar inside to the people that were too crowding, too nosy, too everywhere when she needed them to be somewhere else. Realisation hit her hard and heavy and her eyes widened comically. Could she have been any more obvious? All those people were going to think she was a fool, an idiot prone to panic attacks and running to Daryl the instant things looked like they were getting out of her control.

"I think it's a storm."

Daryl eyed her incredulously, his face transformed with a huge grin. "No shit. A storm? In Georgia?"

The sky erupted with a sky-splitting arc of lightning and an immediate, crushing boom and Carol jumped high in the air, catapulting herself at Daryl who caught her against him with a chuckle., holding her in a crushing hug as the world rumbled and crumbled around them. Together they watched in awe as a tree just outside the fence yawned loudly to the left before it crashed to the ground, pinning at least two walkers beneath it. Heavy rain pelted down around the tower, already forming deep puddles. Carol's pulse rose in tandem with the vicious rhythm of nature punishing the land outside their shelter. Without warning the clamour of the whistling wind, the violent rain, nature colliding and stabbing through the elements, diminished to a distant white noise in her head until all Carol could hear was her own steady but pounding heartbeat. She was oblivious to everything but the powerful arms that held her to his chest, to the warmth that spread through every contact point until she was reverberating with need, the alluring scent of an earthy, vibrant man infiltrating every last sense until she was nearly sagging with irrepressible desire against him.

She had no more use for words, Carol decided. Everything that had come out of her mouth in the last half hour seemed to be steeped in stupidity anyway, so she was doing neither of them any favours by trying to keep the conversation going. Actions had always been more honest between them—the kiss bestowed upon his bandaged head, keeping her on the back of his bike to ensure her safety, her making sure he ate when, if left to his own devices, he'd wither away before he'd let anyone else go hungry, carrying her out of the tombs and into the safety of the group—the many, many simmering looks between them that implicated so much heart and love between them but which neither one of them had ever had the courage to explore. Until now. Now she wasn't waiting any longer. Her body was moulded around his, some of the dampness from her run through the yard to get to him being soaked up by his own clothing.

His throat smelled spicy beneath her nose and Carol gently pressed her lips against the throbbing pulse. Her lips fell open as she registered his sharp, indrawn breath and in a strange, out of body-like state, she darted out her tongue and licked, then bit the spot until her jaw ached from holding back. She was blitzed with his response—not quite sure if it was meant as a reward or punishment when he growled, throat rumbling against her lips, hips bucking toward hers and pressing his hardness into her belly, her back hitting the now closed tower door.

Her thought processes slowed down so much that everything appeared hazy—everything but the heavy breaths blasting across her face before desperate lips latched hold of hers and he let everything go. His lips felt like fire against hers; Carol shivered, her damp shirt sticking to her back between her shoulder blades as a chill swept across her flesh. The contrast of his warmth against her cooled, clammy skin was so sudden, so absolute that Carol shook violently despite clinging to his kiss. She felt the balls of his shoulders tense under her fingers as she clung to him, the palms of his hands at her waist hauling her closer to his body, and through it all was the mindless pleasure his kiss evoked, his mouth moving so slowly, sensually, begging her to let go and become as lost as he was. The tip of his tongue flicked between her lips and Carol felt the tension in her stomach dissolve completely, billowing heat blasting up through her body until the cold of her clothes and the biting wind was a distant memory and only the compulsive beauty of Daryl's taste against her tongue was tattooed into her brain.

He broke away with desperate pants, his chest heaving against hers as the glaze of passion and promise slowly faded from her hooded gaze. He didn't say a word, his diaphragm the only part of him moving as he tried to regain control of his breathing and while he stared intently into her eyes. A knowing smile turned up the corners of his beautiful mouth and Carol couldn't stop the finger that found itself tracing the outline of his bottom lip. She knew she was behaving very anti-Carol but for some reason she was unable to stop herself, wanting no more lines, no more barriers blurring their feelings for each other.

Eventually, finally, Daryl was ready to talk, and when he did, Carol could see the raw hope he was unable to hide from her—but only because now, after all they had been through together, there was nothing left between them in which to hide behind. He was as exposed as he might have once been as a toddler, and while Carol's heart hurt at the pain he'd had to bury deep within himself his entire life, she was grateful that of all the people left in the world, it was her that got to see him for who he truly was.

"Please tell me this is our raincheck."

A shaking hand rose from between their bodies to cup his cheek and Carol moaned quietly at the feel of his fledgling beard as her thumb rubbed through the course strands.

"Everyone in there knows I ran out here like a crazed woman to be with you. If we had a cover, it's completely blown. I'm sorry." Well, she kind of wasn't, knowing somehow that if Daryl was given the option to hide whatever it was they were from everyone in the prison, he'd seize it, from habit if nothing else.

He shrugged carelessly, staring at her like he was more concerned she was there to actually deliver her whole body to him at last than if she'd broadcast to everyone in the prison that that was exactly what she planned to do.

"Think they all got the memo with how I pretty much bunked down with you in the infirmary. Ain't none of their business what we do, anyhow."

Warm fingers crept beneath her shirt after he pulled the wet fabric off her skin. It was a revelation to feel his touch on her bare flesh, and Carol wanted more of it.

"How much longer do you have on watch?" An urgent whisper, her fingertips trailing across his face, her mouth drawn to the jump of his pulse at the base of his throat.

"Rick'll be out soon. Maybe we can go move all our stuff in together. Your cell or mine?" His head was tipped to the side, contemplating her as a flush spread across her cheeks.

"You trying to make some kind of declaration?" Her heart was hammering a hole right through her chest, she just knew it, and Carol tried not to hold her breath, feeling woozy already with how desperate she was to hear what she wanted to hear but never thought she'd actually live to hear it.

"Wasn' plannin' on tellin' those nosy assholes shit, but I ain't plannin' on sleepin' on my own now, neither. You okay with that?"

"Oh." Her breaths hurt, her chest feeling like it was crushed so tight she only had seconds left to relieve the pressure before it killed her. He wanted her—in his bed, in his life, and he was okay with every single person they knew being aware of it. Carol watched as the blue of his eyes went molten with desire and hope. His arms remained loose around her while his fingers swept a line up and down her spine and she had to fight to stop herself from turning into a blubbering mess in his arms. In reply, she flung herself at him, holding him as tight as she dared, and delivered rapid, hungry kisses to his throat and chin.

"I'm okay with that," she told him huskily, almost growling into his ear, and, like the most beautiful music to ever reach her ears, he laughed as Rick banged shut the door downstairs and their leader's boots struck a steady rhythm of approach on the stairs.