Hello all. Here I am with another installment in this short story. It is now focusing on the main pairing. I am rather pleased with this chapter and your feedback would be much appreciated. Again, no flames will be accepted, only constructive criticism. Thank you to those who have respected that.

I want to thank those who have reviewed, favorited, and followed me and my stories. You are all so kind! Thank you for your criticism. I welcome it again. After this chapter the story will pick up the pace.

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Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or the characters. They belong to their respectful owners. I only own my OC(s).

Chapter 2

Daryl's eyes scanned over the prison yards, eyeing the few walkers that were hobbling about, growling and groaning in the way they did. He didn't grimace, scowl, or snarl at them like the others did. He just watched them emotionlessly, looking at them as if they were another one of God's natural creatures. The night was quiet, the moon shaded by a few strings of black clouds. Rolling his eyes at the undead, Daryl let his eyes wander to the stars.

They winked at him, some sparkling brighter than others. A sliver of euphoria washed over the tense man. It was almost like a cool breeze that moved through him, bringing calm to him. The tracker's dark blue eyes landed on the star to the north, that one big bright star that pointed the way, the star that was always a light for Daryl when he looked and needed it.

She always liked the stars.

Eyes never leaving the sky, he reached into his breast pocket and removed the picture, cupping it gently in a very un-Dixon way. His dark blue eyes gazed the girl in the faded picture. His heart did that jump in his chest. He'd long forgotten what it was called. He hadn't cared and to some point he still didn't. Why did he care to know what it was when she wasn't there?

She wasn't there to ride his ass and keep him in line. She wasn't around to be his guiding light and North Star. She wasn't there to remind him that life is still worth living. For all Daryl knew, she was dead.

Stop!

Daryl stiffened, the calm leaving him, using what mental power he had to push the negative thoughts away. Daryl wouldn't admit it, but he was in a rather lengthy stage of denial, when it came to her.

She couldn't be dead. She just couldn't be, but how could he know for sure? After she went off to college they kept contact through handwritten letters. He feared that one day he'd never get another letter from her because something happened to her. Daryl was rather paranoid having her so far away.

They'd been through some rather…shady moments together. It was her own stupidity that got her into trouble and Daryl had to be the one who got her out of it. No matter where trouble found her he was there to save her. It wasn't like he stalked her, he just happened to be there when she needed help. Why did he help her? Daryl didn't know, but once she showed interest in him for some reason…he became that stray puppy that followed the child who showed it kindness.

Daryl shook such thoughts away, thinking back on the letters she sent him and the few he sent back. Of course, Daryl never imaged that he would write letters to anyone, but if it was to keep close to her then he would do it despite Merle's making fun of him. There was several he'd never forget.

Dear Daryl,

How are you? Personally, I'm fine and college is fun, but I've had to study harder than before. I bet that surprise you. My professors are nice, my history professor is rather quirky with all his conspiracy theories. You'd like them a lot. How about this? I'll write them down and send them to you? You and Merle will get a kick out of them. Speaking of the big man, how is your brother? Still drinking away? I'd be surprised if he wasn't. Anyways, my roommate is really nice and we share the same like of the same TV shows so you know TV night won't be a drag.

I wish you were here, Daryl. I miss you a lot. I think you'd like being on campus away from Merle and your past. It's a fresh new start and different way to look at life with the freedoms. The people here are really supportive. You wouldn't be alone because there are guys here just like you. Not to mention you'd have me. I'd always be around and be your study buddy like we used to be. I don't mean to sound like I'm dictating your life, 'cause I think I did that in high school, right? Haha.

Sorry, I'm just spouting off dreams, but I'm proud of how far you've gotten now. I just really miss you and the times, good and bad, we had in high school. I know it might be much to ask for a call sometime, but just the thought counts. I wouldn't even know where to catch a phone that you would call. Haha. So, what're you up to? Are you still working at the mechanic shop in town? How's it going there? I hope it's going good.

Oh! Before I forget! My in a month is my winter break. A whole whopping month free! Maybe we'll have snow this year like we did senior year. So, in saying all of this, I'll be down before you know it. I'll come to see you as soon as I can and I have put aside most of my days to be with you. I know that may sound creepy, but I consider you my best friend. Don't forget that. Time together is limited and I miss you and your voice.

Well, I've gotta hit the sack. I've got a quiz tomorrow in English Lit and it wouldn't be a good start for an English major to flunk her first quiz, right?

I'll see you soon!

Your friend and proud mother hen,

MaryJane

That was one of the few letters Daryl could remember. He thought it was probably because it would be the first visit back and the most special to Daryl. When she finally came back they met up somewhere it was just the two of them because Daryl didn't like to share her. Now that their time to be 'friends' was short, he didn't want to lose a second. And he didn't want to punch a guy's lights out for looking at her too hard. It was a dangerous Dixon trait, when one laid claim on a woman…however rare it may be.

Though, she was understanding, too understanding of his protectiveness, even when he yelled at men to put their eyes somewhere else verbally and loud. She thought it was funny and endearing while Daryl saw it as a way to protect what was his. There was something that happened her first visit down, something that Daryl would never forget and it made him miss her even more.

"That sounds like Merle!"

Her laughter sounded like music to his ears and he found himself grinning a little with her, her smile causing his heart to do that funny jump. Her whiskey colored eyes were sparkling with amusement.

"I've had ta try and get used ta tha nickname "Romeo" fer the past couple o' months. It's gettin' kinda old and Merle knows it." Daryl replied bitterly.

MaryJane smiled. "I'm sorry,"

Daryl shrugged it off. "It ain't nothin'."

A comfortable silence fell between them and the forest around them. Daryl's hands shifted on her calves, feeling the material of her denim jeans and how small her legs were.

Having grown close after a year of annoyance, anger, tears, sweat (on her part) and head butting the two were as comfortable with each other as if they were made from the same thing. With their comfortableness in each other came the close physical, gentle, contact Daryl never had with anyone else. He could touch her hand, arm, shoulder, and even ruffle her hair if he was ever in the mood. If one were to come upon and see them, they'd think they were either close friends or close in other ways.

Daryl was surprised with himself. He didn't think he'd ever let anyone close like he did with her. Just something about her pulled him in, her determination and her never ending happy mood. Annoying as it was at times, Daryl liked it about her.

He sighed contentedly and leaned his head back against the rock. MaryJane had her legs laid across his lap, leaning against the rock with her arms folded in her lap and her face looking at the side of his. Daryl let his hands rest on her calves, not daring to move them anywhere else. There was little space between them, but not enough for it to really be intimate. Even though Daryl was comfortable around her didn't mean he was used to people being physically close and not mean him harm. His own self-protective instincts kept him from breaking that barrier.

MaryJane smiled at the side of his rugged face and smiled fondly at him.

"So have you met anyone?"

Daryl's dark blue eyes flickered to her blankly. He always looked that way, but MaryJane could tell what he was feeling from the way his face moved, the way he blinked, and the way he set his lips. Daryl was an enigmatic man, though after getting to know how he worked, she could tell. And at that moment he was mildly stunned and incredulous.

"Nah, nah, I ain't…ain't lookin' neither."

Daryl noticed the flicker of something in her eyes he thought was relief, but he couldn't be for sure. She averted her eyes, nodding, her fingers falling from his arm. The arm had he had secretly gotten her name tattooed in red ink on the inside of his forearm. Suddenly, Daryl wondered if she had found anyone away at school. The thought caused an uneasiness to stir in his stomach.

"Have you met anyone?"

MaryJane shook her head, glancing at him softly.

"No, I haven't."

Daryl's face remained like stone, but MaryJane noticed the flicker in his eyes as he averted his gaze to the forest before them. The tracker was internally pleased, but wouldn't let her know that.

"No one good 'nough?"

MaryJane bit her bottom lip, her silence making the shaggy haired man look at her with masked expectancy.

"No, it's not that." She replied, lacing her fingers together in her lap, near Daryl's arm.

"Then what?"

The whiskey eyed girl gave him a strange look. "Does it matter?"

Daryl shrugged, something MaryJane had tried to break from his habits of nonverbal answers.

"Don't shrug, Daryl." She chastised gently, like a mother soothing her angry child.

Dark blue eyes looked into hers, lips straight and unmoving like they usually were. It was a Daryl Dixon trait. He had one hell of a poker face. She had his attention, their eyes locked.

"Why does it matter if I did?"

The younger Dixon brother just stared at her, his emotions well hidden, giving MaryJane and run for her money in reading him. He only went silent and emotionless like that when the subject hit a nerve in him. It was another small, stepping stone to getting him to open up to her and more than he already did. And how little he did. She knew he was about to answer by the way his fingers twitched on her legs.

"...I don't think yer boyfriend would take well to ya bein' alone with another man."

The corners of her lips twitched in the slightest. "I didn't think you'd care what he would think."

"I wouldn't," Daryl replied quickly and sharply.

MaryJane smiled a small smile. "Good, because I wouldn't either."

Daryl grew silent again, but MaryJane knew not to rush him. The way his eyes started to slowly dance she knew the subject wasn't about to drop.

"I jus' wouldn't want 'im ta give ya a hard time 'bout it is all." He added, his voice gravelly, sending chills through her.

She always loved his voice.

"I'm sure I could handle it and his concerns." MaryJane assured, placing her hand on top of his on her calf.

The top of his hand was warm and rough, but had offered her no harm, only support.

"What if ya couldn't?" Daryl questioned, his voice rather straight.

MaryJane's eyes studied the dark blue depths of his. No matter what, she always found herself getting lost in them. They held a deeper mystery and a deeper understanding of the man who owned them. If one looked deep enough they could see into his very soul. He wasn't what he was made out to be. MaryJane felt her thoughts vanish and all comprehension of what they were just speaking of disappear. She blinked, averting her eyes to his cheek.

"Couldn't what?"

"Handle 'is "concerns"."

MaryJane frowned slightly. "I'd try to handle them, but if I couldn't then I'd probably leave him."

Daryl scoffed, her hand dropping from his, confused by his reaction.

"What?"

His blue eyes glanced at her before looking away again. "Nothin',"

That was another Daryl Dixon aversion tactic.

"Daryl. What?"

Like the suborn mule he was he shook his head, his short bangs rubbing against his forehead with the motion.

"It weren't nothin'."

The bronze haired girl squeezed his hand encouragingly, smiling at the side of his face, her stomach curling in anticipation.

"Come on, Daryl, you can tell me."

The Dixon knew he could. He trusted her more than he trusted Merle and himself. She earned it and he knew he owed it to her. Because of her his life and future were much brighter than before. The silence rang between them as Daryl fought with himself. MaryJane waited patiently, like she always did with him, giving him that funny feeling of unworthiness. She was too good to him, he didn't deserve her or her kindness. Which brought him to his muted feeling of shock.

How could she leave a man for him if they refused to accept him? He wasn't worth that. He wasn't worth her heartache and scaring off potential boyfriends and husbands. Many of the men she would meet would give her things he never could and for that he felt strangely guilty to hear her say those things. Ultimately, he was the one responsible for holding her back. He was the one who was to be blamed for ruining her chance at a good future with a man who could give her the world. How could he mean so much to her to do that for him? Daryl swallowed the lump that began to form in his throat as he answered.

"You'd actually leave a man fer me."

MaryJane stared at him, puzzled. "I'm sorry?"

Daryl sighed, a little harsher than intended. "You basically jus' said that if yer boyfriend wouldn't accept you and me that you'd leave 'im."

Her expression of puzzlement remained that caused a line in her furrowed brows. "Yeah, what's wrong with that?"

She didn't see it. And here he thought she was the smartest girl he knew.

"I's jus' a little surprised you'd say that." Daryl shrugged, hoping to appear nonchalant.

It worked.

She chuckled incredulously. "Why?"

The dark blue eyes grew hard, his lips thinning sternly. "You gotta know what that would make ya look like."

She just stared at him. Daryl could see the wheels in her head turn as she tried to decipher what exactly he was meaning. He waited with hunter's patience as she pondered. When her whiskey eyes grew wide and her teeth closed over her bottom lip in realization he felt peculiarly dreadful.

"Oh…they'd think I was caught up on you and that at one time we were..." She trailed off, her cheeks growing pink with embarrassment.

"Together." Daryl finished for her.

He always liked it when she blushed. It made her look like she was glowing. Like an angel from the Bible.

"...and I was pinin' after you and still seeing you even after our "together relationship" was over." She figured out.

Daryl nodded coldly, looking down at her hand on top of his.

MaryJane sighed heavily. "Quite frankly, Daryl, I'm never gonna stop coming to see you or stop being here for you even if I get a boyfriend or, godforbid, married. My future boyfriend will have to understand and get used to having to share me with you."

Daryl's usually untouched heart skipped a beat and that possessive streak reared up in him, making his eyes narrow. Thoughts of earlier guilt of holding her back was replaced with the possessive desire to keep her and never let another man touch her. That dark desire caused his mouth to express exactly what his mind was saying.

"But I don't like sharin' ya."

Her reaction was one he'd seen before and what he expected. He was silently glad for her reaction. She smiled softly at him with something like adoration. Daryl knew it was something akin to that, but he didn't really know what adoration or fondness looked like. Regardless, it was one he'd seen before and it rarely ended badly when she looked at him like that. Despite her smile he held his stone-like expression, his dead serious eyes searing into hers.

Her voice was tiny and touched. "I know and I don't like sharing you, Daryl."

The silence was calm, but with a hint of awkwardness on Daryl's part. What little of his internal feelings he voiced to her it made him feel weak and exposed. It was yet another chink in the metal shield he spent building up since he was a child. Slowly, this girl was weakening that shield, turning him into something he wasn't, but she wasn't wanting to change him. He knew that. She was just wanting to help him and ultimately heal him.

She was aware of his past of being abused by his drunken father. She was even privy to the scars the violent abuse left behind, both mental and physical. MaryJane, in high school and basically all her life, was the bleeding heart that wanted to help the hurt and broken down. That was one of the things she was honored with in school. Of course, she was mocked for her bleeding heart syndrome, especially when it came to Daryl. Daryl's so called friends mocked her, wanting to fuck her and make her scream, even see if she was as tight as they imagined. Her friends, who opposed her associating with him, tried to convince her that he was a lost cause. Once broken down far enough, the pieces cannot be put back together again, they said.

MaryJane didn't agree.

Daryl didn't think he was too far gone, not like Merle, but he didn't think that he could be made right. How could he when anger, abuse, smoking, drinking, and fighting was all he knew? He had to give her credit for trying and succeeding to some level. He graduated fucking high school didn't he? He earned the trust the one person who saw something other than a redneck loser. That was something wasn't it?

"So am I tha reason ya ain't got a boy?" Daryl said, breaking his thoughts.

MaryJane flushed, but not in shame. "Yeah,"

Again, it was beyond him. What was so great about him? A smoking, drinking, bow-shooting redneck? What did he have that made him so much better than those other men at college who had actual futures and could give her the moon on a silver platter?

He scowled at her. "Why?" He hissed.

MaryJane flinched at his tone and looked into his accusing blue eyes. The amber color melted into his, the lump in his chest skipping.

She whispered in a small voice that was full of truth. It was a confession on her part, one she was proud, but unsure of.

"Because they're not you."

The ice in his eyes melted, leaving a thin veil of astonishment on his face. They stared at each other, both rather dumbfounded by the other.

At the same time they spoke.

"MaryJane—"

"Daryl—"

They both broke off, going silent again. The air between them shifted from awkwardness to something intense. Only a few times before had it ever grown intense. It was a tension Daryl had felt with women many times before, but it was never that strong. The air seemed to get harder to breathe. MaryJane's eyes glazed over with something he'd never dreamed he'd see in her. Her lips parted, her eyes falling to his lips, licking her own in the process. Daryl's eyes moved over her face quickly, hoping to never forget that face as long as he lived. That look of wanting him.

He hadn't meant to start crushing on her, but he hadn't known it until it was bloomed into it's full glory. When they first met he had a sense of loathing towards her and her persistence. Once he welcomed her towards him he gradually accepted her kindness. In accepting said kindness he found that he wanted more, more of her acceptance of him and what he was. He ignored any semblance of feelings towards her because he felt he wasn't capable of feeling anything like that. He was like his brother. Fuck 'em and leave 'em, no feelin's allowed.

Desite that long learned rule, she kept coming back, accepting him. She treated him like an equal. That caused the crush he'd come to accept to grow. He should've realized what was happening the first time he pushed her behind him to protect her from his 'friends'. With fondness come the protectiveness, then the possessiveness, then came to full out crush or desire to claim. When they were only days away from graduating, Daryl finally let him admit to himself that he wanted her more than just as a friend.

When he watched her recite her speech as the class's valedictorian, he came to realize that he was blessed to have her in his life and that he cared for her. When a Dixon cared about someone it was a big deal. Dixons rarely cared about anyone but themselves. Perhaps, that was another stone she could step on as she crossed that deep, foggy lake in her journey to heal him. She had mentioned him in her speech, not by name, but her eyes on him as she spoke made him understand.

Even after she left for college, the feelings of worry for her safety and the possessive desire to never let her go didn't fade. That's when Merle dubbed him the name "Romeo". Daryl wouldn't say he was pining away after her like Merle said he was. He was just…a concerned friend. The tracker refused to believe that he was pining after her, but he admitted that he missed her. When she was back, the feelings seemed to grow stronger and the bright light in his life that she was continued to flourish. And now, she was showing that the feelings he had wanted to deny were mutual.

As if in unison, their heads moved closer together. Daryl's eyes locked on her lips. Her scent filled his nose as his head moved closer, her breath brushing against his parted mouth. Seconds later, when their lips met Daryl's world tilted then exploded. The bruised lump called a heart in his chest skipped to life, going at a pace he only felt when adrenaline rushed through his veins during a hunt. Only, it was a different rush that flowed through his veins. It was a dangerous bubbling that was slowly beginning to boil through his blood. Her lips were soft and warm against his.

His eyes glanced to see hers had closed, a nervous furrow in her brow. Slowly, his own eyes closed as he titled his head slightly to claim her lips better. Seconds later, they pulled back, looking into each other's eyes nervously. A muted smooching sound echoed between them. There was a dull burning tingling in his lips, a yearning to kiss her again. He held back, knowing any rash movements would scare her. Yet, she looked the opposite of terrified, rather…glad, but she was wondering if she had crossed a line.

Daryl, sensing her uncertainty, letting himself just feel and leaned back in, his lips pressing gently against hers. MaryJane stiffened against him slightly and in response Daryl moved his lips, his lips grabbing onto her lower lip. Her muscles relaxed and he felt a slight tremble as her lips moved with his. He wasn't her first kiss, he knew, but she still had room to improve.

The second kiss was a little messy, but controlled on Daryl's part. Deep down there was an urgency to their soft kiss, a buried desire that began to bloom between them after a year or longer of association. Her teeth parted, welcoming him in. Their tongues began to dance that Hollywood romanticized tango. She tasted sweet, like oranges and apples. She was a fruit girl, always packing around something to snack on. In high school, she always carried an apple and Daryl joked that she had a fear of doctors and ate an apple a day to keep the doctor away.

She had just rolled her eyes and laughed. Daryl rarely laughed unless it was a scoff or chuckle of derision. Some part of Daryl didn't laugh because he liked hearing her laugh. Then again, he wasn't a big joker either. That was Merle's job, no matter how bad he was at it.

Daryl focused back on MaryJane, the one girl he had ever coveted in his life. She would probably be the only girl he would covet. Mums the word to Merle. She responded in kind to his kiss, seeming to crave more. Though, all good things must end and it did when MaryJane pulled back for air. Daryl's lips remained parted as he sucked in air quietly, his heart racing from the rush in his veins and the loss of oxygen. His dark eyes were on her, watching her reaction, silently hoping she wasn't about to jump up and run.

Seconds later, her glazed whiskey eyes met his, satisfaction glowing in the beautiful orbs. She looked beautiful, like she always did. Her lips were pink and swollen, a pink tinge in her cheeks from her blush. There was a familiar, but unknown contraction in his chest at the sight of her. Daryl leaned his forehead on hers. It was an intimate gesture, one he'd given her several times before. It was a gesture of comfort and she always leaned into it.

His dark blue eyes closed as the warmth of her skin soaked into his. His nose inhaled her sweet scent, a smell that he had come to associate with happiness, laughter, and light. She was and still continued to be his guiding light. She always shined and reminded him that life had its good things. He considered her his Northern Star and when he looked up at the stars at night he saw her…and smiled.

Daryl pulled from the memory, his heart racing just from remembering her and their first kiss. His blue eyes looked back down at her wrinkled picture then up to that North Star. For some reason, he felt hopeful that she was out there, looking for him like he was looking for her. The yearning from those days still remained in him, but they were repressed deep inside him.

He couldn't afford to be weak like that anymore and after the dead rose they were pushed away. He was different now. Survival was the main concern in the world they lived in now. He wasn't the same man he was all those years ago. He had changed and if she was still alive, he had no doubt that she had changed too. How could they be the same when you have to kill the walking dead and, at times, your fellow survivors?

Despite all of that, despite how his feelings had been repressed, there was one thing that wouldn't go away. The yearning and coveting of her.

He missed her.

She's alive. I know she's alive.

If Daryl had known, miles away, that there was a girl holding a similar picture who was thinking, hoping, and praying about the same things he was, he'd be running to find her and do everything in his power to never lose her again.

Daryl lowered his head and closed his eyes, shaggy hair falling midair. He did something he hadn't done before.

He prayed.

He prayed for her. He prayed to God to bring her to him again. He prayed that if she was alive that she would find him and if she weren't, that it would be he who would put her in her grave. Though, he prayed for her life, begging for her.

Would God actually listen? Was God still out there? Daryl couldn't know, but miracles came in all forms.

Miles away, that same girl was praying too, praying to find the man she lost.

There it is. Did I keep Daryl in character? Keep in mind that as a younger man he was different than he is in the show. As Carol said that you have to change to survive in the walking dead world. What do you think of MaryJane?

Feedback is appreciated, but not required and opinions are welcomed. Theories on Terminus are welcomed because I am rather put-off by the so called "safe haven". My first thought when seeing it: Cannibals. Any thoughts? Ideas? Theories? Please share them. I am interested in your thoughts.

More to come soon. Please review!

Happy Writing!