Hello, everyone, here is a new chapter, hope y'all enjoy. I did extensive research for this chapter about Daryl. Watched and read Norman's interviews, as well as read some character studies about Daryl. I tried to stay true to the character, so I hope that shows.

Ps. I feel like I kept you guys to much in the dark, so I'm gonna start leave breadcrumbs.

Ooh, the reason I hold on
Ooh, 'cause I need this hole gone
Well, funny you're the broken one
But I'm the only one who needed saving
'Cause when you never see the light
It's hard to know which one of us is caving

Not really sure how to feel about it
Something in the way you move
Makes me feel like I can't live without you
It takes me all the way
I want you to stay

Stay by Rihanna

Chapter 9 - Hold on

Everything around you seem so hazy. It's been a day since the moment your lips touched his, yet you still feel like you are on fire, like you might spontaneously combust at any moment. So, you lock yourself in your cell, clinging on to what happened. All it took was one touch, and Daryl had set a slow and steady match beneath your center, deep in the pit of your stomach.

You bury your face in the stiff prison pillow.

All that pain you went through, learning to let him go, accepting it was young love, was all for nothing. You thought you had moved passed it, grown from it. At least, that's what you told yourself. He was supposed to be that one big lessen of your life, that's what your therapist told you. The one who taught you how to live free, love unconditionally, and be selfless. Everything he was …

But since the moment you saw him in that dilapidated pharmacy, everything you had locked away inside your pandora box was barged open. Everything you thought you had set free; it had never left at all. You had just built a wall so high around it, even you could not see it yourself.

How easy it was for him though, to break through your shield, to just step on it like it was sandcastle. With a kiss so sweet, it all dissolved away like cotton candy on your tongue.

You lift your hand to wipe your tears, and the candlelight reflects on the diamond ring on your finger. What kind of terrible person are you? Here you are falling apart over a boy you dated as a teen, and yet you haven't even shed a single tear for the man who wanted to make you his wife. Why did you even say yes? Why do you continue to wear the ring? Deep down you knew, you knew you cared for Frank, but you never truly loved him like he deserved. You knew your heart hadn't been yours to give to anyone. It hasn't been yours since the first night at Uncle Joe's 15 years ago.

As you gently pull the ring off your finger, you pictured Frank. He was very different from Daryl. Tall, blonde, a man who laughed a lot, talked the most, a total surfer boy from California. He loved you, and fought to reach you, no matter how at arm's length you kept him. But you could never be truly his, for you belonged to the ghost of your past.

It's time to bury him, to let Frank be free, once and for all.

You turn your body in your bunkbed, facing the wall, as you slide the ring under your pillow. You thought you will feel lighter, but no, it only makes you feel worse, the weight of your decision heavy.

Time blurs again, and you are brought back to reality when you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. You wipe the tears from your eyes, before turning to face the presence in the room. It's Charles, and with one of his hands, he holds a silver steel prison bowl with some sort of beans stew in it. His other hand moves to your face, fingers on your cheek, and his thumb gently wipes your tears.

"Hey," there is softness to his voice you don't often hear. "I gotchu something to eat," he tells you.

"I want to leave," your throat has gone hoarse from all the crying. "I want to leave this place." Why did you agree to come?

"We can't, you know we can't." He whispers. "You have an obligation here, to Lori, to Rick and to the baby." The hand on your face reaches out to grip yours. "But if you still want to leave, the moment that baby is born, we can head out."

You nod your head.

He was right, even if he had agreed, you would not leave without seeing Lori through. He uses the hand he's holding to pull you into a seated position. He puts the food on the bed next to you before he draws you into a hug, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, burying your face in his collar. "For how I treated you yesterday." You feel his fingers move into your hair, fingers submerging in your tresses. After a few seconds he gets up, his face is unreadable. The ever so serious Charles is back. He picks up the bowl and places it gently in your hands.

"Eat," he tells you before walking out.

Carol lets out a deep sigh. It's been a very tense 24 hours. Daryl hasn't been back inside the prison. Seems like he had permanently moved to the east side of the prison tower. Obviously, there is something unfinished between the doctor and the hunter. She must admit, she had miss-judge the doctor. Perhaps she thought, this was heavily one sided for Daryl. But after what she witnessed; she doesn't know what to think.

The way they held each other for a second… like a moth to a flame.

Here she is right now, preparing to take him some of the stew she made for the group. Just as she closes the pot, she sees Charles marching past her without even a glance. Carol just stares at him, eyebrow raised. His hands kept fisting and releasing, like he is fighting some internal battle. She looks towards the direction where he came from. Her eyebrow rises even higher. Currently there is only one person within the living area of the prison cells. Everyone is outside doing one thing or another. Curiosity getting the best of her, she follows, with Daryl's food in hand. When she stands outside, on the steps of the prison, she watches Charles heading toward the east side of the guard tower. She also knows only one person is on that side of the gate.

She quickly follows, keeping just enough distance. She watches him open the heavy door of the guard tower and disappear inside. Each guard towers have two doors, one entering up the stairs to the panel, the other exiting the panel to the observation deck.

Carol takes off as fast as her feet can take her, following him up the stairs into the tower. Her feet are quiet, her steps slow and steady, watching Charles enter the guard panel.

"Watcha want?" It's Daryl's raspy voice that speaks first, echoing in the empty space.

There is a moment of tense stillness before Charles speaks.

"I'm going to say this once and once only." Charles voice was strain, like he's genuinely fighting to hold himself back. "If you ever talk to Dr. Hart like that again, you will be dealing with me."

Carol holds the food close to her chest, before she peeps through the crack on the door that was not fully closed. She is unsure where this conversation is heading. Charles is a very difficult man to read. He does not come off as an emotional person. In fact, he seems too logical, reserved, and secretive, someone who plays his card close to his chest.

"Listen here bootleg Rambo, better watch what you say, cuz that sound hella like a threat."

"I don't make threats, Daryl, I make guarantees. You make her cry again; I will fuckin make you collect your teeth off the ground. That, too, is a guarantee."

Daryl's reaction is not what she expected. She thought he will blow up in a typical Daryl Dixon fashion. Instead, there is a brief expression of guilt, that displays on his face. As fleetingly as it comes though, it's quickly wiped off when he steps into the soldier's personal space.

"And imma tell you this once, back the fuck off, and mind your own fuckin business," Daryl is nose to nose with Charles, "This is between me and her." There is a tense moment where the two men eyed each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Carol holds her breath expecting one of them to snap. "what's it to you anyways?" Daryl asks. Seems like, that question is the reality check Charles needed because he steps back, as if admitting defeat. The soldier turns his back to Daryl, perhaps rejecting to answer.

But that action gives Carol a full view of him. And for the first time since she met the man, there is a crack in his ever so stern expression. Carol holds back the gasp that almost leaves her lips, her hand coming to muffle her mouth. She pulls away from the door, leaning back on the wall, so she is completely out of sight. 'Charles has feelings for the doctor,' She screams in her head. That explains a lot. Why he never lets her out of his sight. Why he constantly seeks for her opinion and approval. She thought it's because he believes in the doctor's ability and trusts how intelligent she is. Perhaps maybe it's both. But the way he dedicates his life to her, to her cause… it all makes sense now.

Oh Daryl, this just got a lot more complicated, she thinks to herself, peeping back into the panel.

"Just don't let it happen again." Charles speaks, voice back to his usual deep, normal tone. As he walks toward the door, Carol immediately takes two steps down, pretending to just be heading up with food in hand. When she bumps into Charles, she smiles at him, like she wasn't eavesdropping. He gives her a nod, face stern as always. Mask back on.

When she steps inside the panel room, Daryl is right where Charles left him, standing there his body locked in tension.

"What was that about?" she asks, and Daryl looks away from her with a huff. Daryl isn't stupid. He knows why a man might want to square up to him about a girl. Carol assumes there is more communicated here than what was said out loud verbally. Daryl turns and exits using the left side door, heading to the observation deck. He doesn't say a word but leans on the railing. Carol copies him.

"You got to eat something." She tells him, "And come back to the prison." Even though he is physically next to her, his thoughts are far in the past. She lets out a sigh, before sitting on the ground, legs dangling down the railing. She taps his knees, indicating for him to sit. After a moment of hesitation, he sits as well.

"Tell me," she whispers.

"There ain't nothin to tell." He replies.

"Obviously not true. She means something to you?" She encourages. He looks at her, and she can see the tears he's fighting. His hands fists around the railing before he lets it go. "Or… means a lot to you…"

She waits for him to share, as he fights his internal conflict.

"Ain't never wanna feel like that again..." His voice is as soft as feather, but something is bubbling underneath the surface. When the tears slide down his cheeks, he wipes it off angrily. "All my life, pain ain't never been new to me. The physical, the mental… I knew it all. But man, ain't nothing hurts like that…" He shakes his head. She, too, knows that well, had firsthand experience. Nothing hurts worse than love, Carol finishes his thought.

Carol can truly say she knows Daryl. He had let her in, little by little, after the loss of her Sophia. During the 7 months they were on the road, after the farm, before they found the prison, the two had gotten to know each other better. They would often be on a watch together. Occasionally, he would let something slip, slowly letting her in.

"She told me things… promised me things. Like a damn fool, I believed it… then she just left. I mean, I know I ain't shit. I know I'm nobody. But man, she made me believe…and she just…" She can hear the agony in his voice.

Daryl has been hurt by the people he loved the most. She has seen the scars from the physical beatings his father gave him, and she can only imagine the psychological damage he had received as well. And all that pain, has left a deep sense of abandonment in him. His scars are too deep-rooted.

"That doesn't seem like the reaction of someone who just left…" If the doctor left him, then why would she react the way she did?

"I don't wanna…" I don't want to think about, or I don't want to know... Carol is unsure where his thoughts are going.

"Why does she think you left, "she asks. There are too many questions and not enough answers. "What about this letter?"

"I ain't got no letter, don't know what that was about." His head is down, and his fingers rub gently on an old scar left on his wrist.

"Aren't you curious?" she questions.

"It took me years to let her go, I just don't wanna…" Carol doubts he actually did let her go. It's so obvious he did not. He wants to ask, she can tell. Its written all over his face. His pride is holding him back. Even though he acts like the pain has healed, but the wound is still fresh.

"You should. Now-a-days, you never know when our last day might be. Even if you don't want that type of relationship with her again, you should ask, get closure." He stays quiet. "Just ask yourself, if she was to die tomorrow, get bit, would you regret not asking her?" This conversation needs to happen between them, but it would mean bringing up feelings, and bleeding wounds. And Daryl is not the type of man to discuss his emotions.

He sits there silently considering her thoughts. His right hand continues to lightly rub the scar on his wrist.

She follows the movement of his fingers, as it shifts in circler motion. She watches the scar he is stroking. It was round, like the size of a nickel, dark and the skin had grown thick.

As she continues to look at it, realization clicks for her. She gasps, the air leaving her chest. It's a cigarette burn. As if he had burnt himself over and over in the same spot. Did the pain truly run that deep for him? Was he in that much darkness that he turned into self-harm to feel something? Her arms shakes as she grabs his wrist, the one with the scar. She pulls him to her and hold him in a tight hug.

Carol walks back to the prison, with the promise he is going to eat the stew she left him. Now, she is unsure if the arrival of the doctor was the best thing for the group. She feels her heart twist for him. With all the knowledge she gathered the last few days, her mind starts connecting the dot. So obviously, they were together, and Daryl had given himself to her, loved her with all he had, so much so, it had profound effect on him. Something happened and she left him. That pain of being left resonated deep in him, to the point, he used self-harm as a coping mechanism for his depression. Her leaving him had reaffirmed how he felt about himself. He would often use the word 'nobody' or 'nothing' when he described himself, and constantly puts himself down. worthlessness and self-loathing were part of him, part of his trauma.

She also remembers the screams of the doctor as she chased him out the prison yesterday. It came from her gut, like a wounded animal. This pain isn't one sided either.

Her mind was in such a deep thought when she enters the prison, she doesn't even realize where she is heading until her feet leads her to the doctor's cell. She slowly pulls the bed sheet Alice had put up as a privacy curtains. Alice is sitting on her bed with an empty bowl in her hand. Carol lightly taps on the metal bars to notify the doctor of her presence. When the doctor looks up at her, Carol bites her lip. This was not the well-kept woman she known the last few weeks. Her hair is tangled, her nose is red, eyes are swollen, and dark circle are prominent under her eyes.

Carol lets out a sigh before she sits on the bed beside her. She reaches out to rob the doctors back gently. There is a moment of silence before the doctor turns her face and leans her head on Carol's shoulder. Though, the two women aren't close, Carol can say that she speaks to Alice more than the other ladies in the group.

Carol's loyalty will always be with Daryl, but she can sympathize. Their pain is like a double-sided coin, no-one wins.

"Why did you left him," she can't help but ask. Part of her screams not to get involved, but at the same time, she wants to know the cause of Daryl's pain. What led to all this.

"I did not. He did..." She barely hears the whisper coming from the doctor.

"Then why does he think you did," The answer is silence. Carol wants to push, demand answer. But this is between two old lovers and none of her business.

You can't answer her question.

Despite the fact, it was such a long time ago, you remember every detail like it was yesterday. You had thought about it too many times to count, replayed the scenarios over and over again in your head.

You remember the conversation you had with Merle that night. How hopeful you were when you handed the letter to him. It was the first time you had a real heart to heart with the older Dixon. He was always an asshole towards you and called you names. You, being the DA's daughter, and him being a drug dealer with a rap sheet the size of Seattle never settled well with him. That day, he was sober, and you had an honest conversation. He promised to hand the letter to his little brother, and you had promised to protect Daryl from the bigger threat that loomed over you two.

It's like being hit by a lightening, the shock wave you feel when a realization hits you like an eighteen-wheeler. Your body jerks, as you jump from the bed, scaring the bejesus out of Carol.

You cannot get the words out of your mouth, as you stand there staring with your mouth open like a fish.

You thought, you were so clever, your self-inflated ego never even considered. To think you trusted the older Dixon with a matter of the heart. That fuckin fool…

When carol stares at you like you've lost your mind, you swallow the lump, trying to moist your dry throat.

"He never got my Letter," you tell her, your voice ruff. As she continues to gape at you. you step forward, grasping her shoulder. "He never got it!" You shake her back and forth with each syllable. You want to laugh, scream, and cry at the same time. How stupid, how fuckin stupid, after all these years…

As if the heavens hear your despair, like a reflection of your feelings, the whole prison screech in alarm, the sound reverberating through the empty hallway.

You both freeze, eyes locked on each other, hands still on her shoulder.

"The hell…" was all you are able to say before chaos erupts.