Pain ripped through his head thrusting him awake. Forcing his eyes wide he blinked rapidly trying to force breath into his raw throat and coughed roughly. Everything in him hurt and he felt like he had sand in his eyes. He couldn't hear much right now and that worried him more than if he could hear fighting. Was he even alive or was he in some weird fucked in between? The thought was painful for a lot of reasons. The most searing one being that he'd never found Carol and wasn't even sure she was alive.
He recoiled violently and tried to roll away from the idea. Of course she was alive. It was Carol. She wasn't some doll that had to be protected and sheltered. She could weather any fucking storm there was and would still stand tall. She stood by him since the beginning and he refused to believe that she would fall so easy. She was too damn stubborn.
Groaning Daryl jerked and tried to roll over again. He felt like he had a lead weight on his chest. It was painful to breathe and his breaths were short. He didn't think anything was broken.
A howling noise finally made itself known and he paused his body tensing. Something in his chest cracked at the sound. The sound called to something inside him and he looked around frantically as his chest tightened.
"No." The voice howled again, the pain was like a pressure in his chest from the broken voice. "Come back to me."
His body was cold. The steel of the table against his bare back and he felt a full body shiver run through him. He was freezing. He needed to move and get the fuck out of here. He wasn't sure where the group was or what even happened to them. He needed to find Carol. He needed her like he needed his next breath. Lifting his head and groaning he looked down his body and froze.
Carol was draped over him and how he hadn't felt the heat that he now knew was her before he wasn't sure. Licking his lips trying to get some moisture into his mouth he spoke but a low groan only came out. Her body shook again and he knew then the keening howls he'd heard minutes before were her. She was sobbing against his chest her breath hitching hard and her eyes shuttered against everything.
Her hand slid across his side down towards his waist and he felt his body try to lean into her touch. It felt natural. It always had with her. It's like it knew she was made for him before he'd ever accepted what he wanted. Carol stilled against him and he forced his voice to out with a rough cough. Her nails dug into his hip just above his waistband of his jeans viciously and he grunted. Moving quicker than he'd ever seen she was setting completely up on him astride his hips and a knife was against his throat her eyes wild.
He didn't move or so much as shift. Harsh panting breaths were bursting from her chest, eyes were red, and she had tears tracks cutting through grime on her face. He watched her eyes shift and move rapid fire around his face as if she was reassuring herself and discovering him for the first time. Within in seconds it was over and her eyes were all around them the knife sliding away from his throat and her body shifting even closer to him. It was almost like she was crouching over him, her muscles coiled tight, and a rumble from her chest as her eyes were looking around.
"Can you move?" Her voice was broken and raw with an underlying tension. "We need to move." Daryl tried to shift but her weight was oppressive. Carol looked down to him her face softening slightly and her hand came up cupping his face.
She was off him suddenly with one quick lithe move and he blinked slowly. He felt groggy and he was pretty sure he was going to puke once he was upright. How long had he been strung up like a fucking deer before that bitch had brought him down? Too long was the answer. He'd laughed at one point when he'd been strung up like that swinging with that woman walking circles around him. She was preaching about "either you're the butcher or you're the cattle". Over and over he'd heard this and then he knew he was going to be field dressed right there.
Only regret? Carol. Thoughts of her tormented his strained body and mind. He felt her in every part of him. He knew she was alive but his adrenaline was pumping in a way that wasn't his own. He felt her out there but he knew he'd never see her again but she was alive. That's when he'd laughed. Rick got rid of her, he'd lost her, and she was the last one standing of them all.
That the last thing he remembered. Forcing his aching muscles into cooperation he was upright and Carol was there. Daryl tried to focus on her but his world swam and he felt his stomach heave. Pain lit through his body as he puked. Her small hand against his bare back, over his past, was soothing and caring. Fingers carding through his hair he fought over the burning in his throat and the strain of being upright.
"The group?" Daryl questioned a cough not far behind. He frowned at how weak his voice was.
"Gone." Carol spoke. Her voice wasn't even. It wasn't anything he'd heard before. He forced himself to focus on her. Everything about her was graceful, always was, but now it was predatory. She didn't stray far from him at all. "They left. Cut and dry." Daryl sucked in a breath slowly registering the rage in her voice. "I didn't see you with them, knew right then Rick left you like he did me. I came for you."
She turned looking at him. Her face was carefully blank. It was taking her work to mask what he knew was righteous anger and protective nature surfacing. He'd felt the same way when he'd been told upon coming back what Rick done. After the run around they gave him and then Rick's bullshit excuses- he was far beyond consoling. The only fucking people who could ever soothe him was Merle and Carol and he'd lost both. He'd lost both because of that motherfucker and he'd been ready to kill Rick right there.
He nodded at her words. He believed her. He always would. She let a slow smile show and her nostrils flared. He shifted and a shiver rippled through him causing him to tense and she frowned.
"I need to check on you when we get somewhere safe." Her voice was soft the dangerous edge lifted exposing the heart of her voice. "You scared me."
"My chest is fucking killing me." He muttered. Hand lifting he ran it over it and looked down. There were bruises blooming on it and he frowned. He didn't remember getting hit in the chest at all.
Carol's hand shot out palm flat to his chest. She was closer now and her hand ran over him with her nails scraping slightly. "I'm sorry." Carol moved again quick and her arms were around him her face pressed into his throat. "I'm so sorry."
Daryl held still his arms coming around her and he winced at the motion. It didn't last long before she was moving again and they were out of the room. His eyes had briefly went to the mauled bitch that had him strung up then to the two men who'd been killed quicker. Carol. It was her. She'd come in here with no qualms about killing to get to him and he couldn't even say anything. He would have done the same if not worse of her.
If anything he learned from Merle's death it was to never let go. Never let the people you love away from you or lose that grip because the second you someone will be there to cut them down. He learned that the hard way with his brother. He still heard him at times but it was nothing like the dick head actually being there. When he'd gotten back to the prison it was Carol who put him back together after he'd thoroughly fucking lost it out there. It was Carol who went back with him for his brother and it was Carol who helped dig that goddamn grave. It was always Carol and since then they'd been attached at the hip. They were close before but since then she was his.
His. He'd told her as much and the look that came into her eyes upon hearing it was almost that of an animals. It should have scared him but instead it made his heart race and him to study her just as much as she was him. That was the night she'd sunk her teeth so deep into his neck and shoulder he carried a permanent scar. He was hers. Had been always but she was letting him know.
Eyes shooting over to Carol suddenly Daryl paused his steps his breath coming fast. He shook his head and groaned. He felt like he was getting trapped in his own mind. He was angry. He was beyond angry but he didn't have the energy right now to house all of that pent up rage. The second he felt better though he knew there was going to be hell fire. He could see and feel the storm coming. Carol was just as mad but she on a whole other level. She was circling him like a fucking shark but her movements weren't threatening to him, just everything else.
"You okay?"
Daryl forced himself upright again from his doubled over position. "Just tired."
Carol gave him a searching look and called bullshit right there. She arched a brow and snorted. "Dixon's."
Humming to himself he arched his own brow at her before gritting his teeth and taking the next step. "How the fuck are we supposed to get out of here?"
"They are busy cleaning up what tiny bit of damage Rick done before they got away. They're distracted, stupid, and weak. Even with you hurt we could clear this place easily." Carol shrugged, "Play it by ear. We are getting out."
He nodded and tried to focus on more than just following her but it was useless. The pain in his head and body were a mess of bruises and few cuts. He felt fatigued, starved, and thirsty. This was a fucking mess- he was a fucking mess. Hopefully though she didn't try to coddle him because he wasn't a baby. Dixon's don't die easy.
Everything in his head felt off. Everything about this was off and Carol was his anchor. If he focused on her he'd be okay.
They weaved around dead bodies and loud men who had no care for giving away their position. When they couldn't be avoided he watched as Carol quick as a snake struck. She was death personified. Licking his lips he shook his head at the way this woman made his blood race. Seeing her come up behind a man and end his life like she was doing nothing more than changing sheets on their bed shouldn't make him want to throw her down right there. Shouldn't make him want to tear her fucking clothes away and rut against her like a fucking animal. But it did and instead of being ashamed or embarrassed like before for his wayward thoughts he watched her hips as she turned back to him.
Had he took a hit to hard to the head? Merle always did tell him he was different than everyone else. Hell maybe he was right. It'd be the first time his brother got something right. Daryl stood for a second and shook his head. Well that wouldn't be fair his brother called him going for Carol all the way back at the quarry but he'd never admit that outloud. Hell up until the moment Merle brayed like a jackass that Daryl would go for Carol he'd been adamant that his baby brother was a queer. He'd told him almost fucking daily. Just because a man doesn't want the clap from skank that looked like she rolled off the wrong side of a trailer park toiled didn't make him gay. To Merle though he was as queer as it got for not nailing every chick that came on to him. And fuck Merle because he'd fucked Carol seven ways to Sunday. Daryl cringed at his thoughts and forced himself to breathe. What the fuck was wrong with him?
"Daryl."
He looked up and Carol was watching him her eyes worried and glazed. He didn't focus on that look because he knew it. He'd seen it in her eyes and he really didn't need what little blood he had left racing to his cock right now. It's like she knew what he'd been thinking about and if that wasn't just messed up. Merle and fucking her.
He grunted and forced his legs to move. She was there then her side pressed into his and helping support some of his weight. She'd been doing that as long as he'd known her though. He let her. He felt dead on his feet and like he was going to drop at any second. He couldn't though because if he did he knew she'd stay right there with him.
They were at the back of the compound and he could make out only one train car. Where he'd been pulled from at the beginning of this shit show had way more. He'd counted at least seven. They'd put some distance between them.
"Just a little more Daryl." Carol pleaded.
He nodded his motions slow and grimaced. Even the pain was dull and so were his thoughts. He was thinking that was the dehydration though. Done things to your mind after a bit. The heat sure as fuck wasn't helping either. More his weight went onto her and he tried to counter it but his knees started to buckle.
"So help me to god Daryl Dixon if you don't stop being a pussy I'm going to hit you." Carol hissed at him.
He snorted and lifted his head, "Alright Merle, I hear you."
Pushing against the pain he was on his feet again and Carol moved ahead of him. She was at a fence. Her eyes shot down each sides body tense.
"You have to climb."
He stared at her. Was she fucking serious? He could barely hold his head up.
"Stop doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Responding in your head, use your words."
Sighing heavily Daryl walked to the fence and leaned against it. "They patrol."
"Yes so we have to hurry." Her voice was that edged animal again and he nodded listening to it.
Grasping the chain link he hauled himself up and started climbing slowly. Carol was there next to him moving quickly. He was clumsy and loud and it was nothing like him. It pissed him off. Landing on her feet at the other side he stared at her again setting astride the fence.
"This is going to hurt."
"What?"
Daryl tumbled down and thudded harshly on his ass on the ground. Carol was wide eyed and staring. Hands were all over him and she started digging in the pack she'd gathered as they snuck around Terminus. He didn't know what all she had but he didn't think shit was going to help a broke ass. Today fucking sucked but atleast he got her back.
Carol pushed his hair back from his face and he hissed at the feeling of something almost cool against his overheated skin. "You need to drink something and eat."
He just nodded and she swiped at his face again. He grimaced seeing her cleaning blood away.
"You look like a murder victim."
"You look like you rolled in blood."
Carol paused and leaned into him breathing deeply. He stilled and watched her nose skim his chest and up his throat before getting to his face and then her lips brushed his. She paused her eyes that glazed rolling storm. Something was in there dying to break free and the only thing holding it back was him being hurt. Licking his lips he watched her.
"We have to get this smell off us." She shifted and then looked around, "We're a walking dinner bell."
Daryl looked down his body and really looked. He was soaked in blood and if it looked as much as hers then they really were. Carol was back seconds later and smeared mud across his chest. He hissed at the contact and jerked. Carol's hand gripped his neck holding him place.
"Hold still."
He listened and forced his mind to stay present. He covered most of him and then started on herself. He watched as he climbed back to his feet.
"Carol we gotta move." His voice was tired, "I hear boots."