Hello fellow Carylers!

Well, I've written a reunion fic (partially), and this is it. I'm not sure why, but I'm actually quite nervous to post this. I'm sure it's because I've put a lot of pressure on this season 5 reunion to be epic (bad idea). And also, I wanted to get it posted before the Talking Dead special on July 6th, because if they show a season 5 trailer that is so wildly different from what I've come up with here, I know I'll never post it ; )

That said, I really, REALLY hope you all enjoy this!

It will likely end up being three chapters, and this one is definitely the longest. The second one is already written, though I would love to hear your feedback to see if maybe I will end up switching directions with it.

ENJOY, and CARYL ON! : )

Daryl lay on the hot concrete, unable to move, the hot sun beaming down on him through the haze-filled air. His eyes were shut tight, and all he could smell was burning, smoke and the familiar stench of death. Always death.

His muscles ached. His head ached. His skin ached.

The battle had taken every last bit of anything out of him. All of the fight. All of the give a damn. What was he even fighting for anymore anyway?

But he had fought, and fought. With every last ounce of everything he had inside of him, he fought and killed and pushed and brawled. He didn't know how it started, didn't know how it ended. All he knew was that the sounds of gunshots, explosions and screaming were loud and alarming as they all stayed trapped in that train car. And then the door opened somehow, sunlight blaring in their eyes and a bag of weapons lay at their feet. Rick's buried bag of weapons.

So they didn't ask questions, they just armed themselves as fast as they could and fought to the death.

And for what? For who?

Certainly not for himself. He was starting to wonder why he was even alive anymore.

Judith. Beth. Carol. All gone.

He had lost Beth. She'd been right there – safe – and he lost her. She'd disappeared from right under his nose because he let his guard down for one minute, and the unbearable guilt had consumed him ever since that fucking car drove away from him with Beth inside. He ran so far and for so long, and it was like he was chasing the ghost of Sophia all over again.

Sophia.

Only, this time, it was his loss. His cross to bear. The cost of losing her was his and his alone. And it weighed on him so heavily that he became desperate for an outlet. Desperate for help. Desperate for guidance.

How did you do this, Carol? I need you to tell me what to do.

As he ran after the car that took the girl, he realized that he could now understand that last and final piece of Carol that he never could before. Something she'd held the heavy weight of all on her own that he could never touch. He'd done all he ever could for her, to help make it better, but he never truly understood. Finally, after all this time, it clicked into place.

Daryl never could see how she could lose hope for finding her little girl; how she could just give up the way it seemed she had.

We don't know if we're gonna find her, Daryl. I don't.

But with every passing hour as he ran after the vehicle that took Beth from him, his hope of finding her had faded until there was nothing left to fight for.

She was just gone.

Had Beth been his kin, would it have been worse? Worse than the excruciating feeling of helplessness and guilt that devoured him now? Was Carol's pain over losing Sophia even more profound than what he now felt?

He couldn't imagine that. Couldn't imagine how she had survived it, because he wasn't sure how he was supposed to survive this.

Losing that girl tore him up inside, and although he didn't know if he'd ever see Carol again, the experience tethered him to her in a whole new way. Daryl ached for her. To have her hold him and tell him he would be fine, it would be alright. He would make it through this loss, as she had. He'd learn to accept it; it was just something that happened. There was nothing that could have been done. It wasn't his fault.

He couldn't shake the grief of this loss. He couldn't shake the total responsibility he held.

Beth was only a few years older than Sophia would have been. Had she had made it this far, it could have been Sophia that he'd lost. They'd done this dance before, and it didn't end well the first time.

And Carol had been the strongest person he'd ever known. Her little girl was ripped from her arms and turned into one of the monsters they all feared they'd turn into. She had to look into her baby's eyes and see the nothingness that she'd become.

But still, Carol pushed and pushed, turning herself into someone new, using her grief for good. He knew she would never forget what happened on the farm that day. It was why she took charge of the children and taught them how to protect themselves. It was a part of her.

Now Beth was a part of him too. And he lost her.

He was a disappointment. How would Hershel feel if he'd seen how careless Daryl had been with his daughter? He had failed him, and he had failed Maggie. He had been responsible for that girl, and he fucked the whole thing up. And it was all just another reminder of what a worthless human being he was.

He considered giving up. This life had proven to be about losing people, over and over again. He was just going to end up alone, and that was what Daryl Dixon had feared the most. Maybe joining forces with Joe and that group of fuckers had been his own personal brand of giving up on this life.

And then, as he lay there on the concrete replaying his laundry list of shortcomings, there was a voice that brought him back. A voice that brought him out of his apathy and back to this reality, causing his heart to pound so furiously in his chest that he had the instinct to tell someone to call 911. An instinct that should have been long dead, because there was no help anymore. No hope.

But that piercing cry had his attention. It was Carl. And he was screaming his baby sister's name.

Daryl shut his eyes tighter at the sound. He didn't want to see what had become of Judith to make Carl scream that way. He didn't want to open his eyes and find out it was all a hallucination to begin with.

"Judith! Oh my God, Judith! Judith!"

And then he heard Rick, crying his daughter's name right along with Carl.

"Ty?"

Daryl's jaw clenched as he heard Sasha's emotional cry of her brother's name. So many tears, he couldn't tell whose was whose anymore.

He wouldn't believe Judith was here. And Tyreese. Why would they be here? Why would they be here together? He had to think about it for a second.

Daryl was sure he was at Terminus. He was sure he had been trapped in a train car with a paltry few members of their group, plus a few more. He was sure they had just battled through something so horrible, and that there were dead bodies all around them. At least, he thought he was sure. This didn't make any sense. He had to be hallucinating.

And then it was Glenn's strangled voice that made his eyes snap open, staring into the smoke-filled sky. As though the use of this extra sense would help him make heads or tails of it all.

"Carol? Oh my God. Carol!"

No.

This had to be a dream. Or else he was dead. But he forced himself to find out, one way or another.

Daryl pulled himself up slowly, his body feeling much heavier than he remembered it being, the task feeling so incredibly daunting.

As he stood and and his eyes focussed on the scene in front of him, he saw the back of her as she was wrapped in Glenn's arms. He saw Glenn's face, his eyes shut tight as he held her. Daryl paid no attention to Maggie a few feet away, sobbing into her hands. He paid no attention to the Grimes' rejoicing over their reunion. He paid no attention to Tyreese and Sasha, holding onto one another for dear life.

His eyes were on her, and he watched as she pulled back from Glenn, her hand coming up to her face to wipe the tears from her eyes before her head searched from side to side. He could see that her mouth was moving, but he couldn't hear what she was saying.

She was still talking, still asking questions – Did anyone else make it here? Daryl? Is he here? – when she had turned around and spotted him. Her words died on her lips and her hand flew to her chest as she sucked in a shocked breath of relief when her eyes took in his beaten form.

His breath was heavy as he watched her let out a choking sob when her eyes met his. He wanted to go to her, so badly, but he was frozen. He didn't believe she was real. He squinted through his watering eyes, breath still coming hard and fast, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of him at the sight of her.

She walked towards him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, too slowly for his liking.

And when she reached him, his face couldn't hide the overwhelming torment and fear and relief, and so he dropped to his knees in front of her, clutching desperately at her waist and burying his face into her belly.

He felt her fingers weave themselves into his hair, and each brush of them on his scalp sent him reeling as she held him tightly to her.

His eyes were squeezed shut as he took a deep breath, as though her scent could hold him here in this moment, in this life. As though it was the only thing to reassure him that she was here, and she was alive. And so was he, and he didn't want to die, not anymore.

And then he felt her hands on his, prying his fingers off of her shirt before she dropped down to her knees in front of him.

He opened his eyes when he felt her fingertips on his face, brushing his hair out of his eyes. But his vision was blurred by the onslaught of tears, and he blinked furiously to clear them. He needed to see her.

"Daryl," she muttered, and choked out another sob.

He buried his face into her neck and let the tears flow.

"Daryl, Daryl, Daryl…" she said his name over and over like a prayer, and his hands clutched furiously to the shirt on her back, pressing her as close to him as he could manage.

He immersed himself in the sound of her soft voice saying his name, letting himself drown in it.

He felt the warmth of the crook of her neck on his lips and he reacted on instinct, placing tear-soaked kisses on her skin. He revelled in the sound of the sigh that escaping her as he kissed her over and over. Savoured the feeling of her breath on his ear.

She tried to pull back, but he scrambled to not let her go, tugging her against him a little harder. When he felt her hands push a little more forcefully on his shoulders, he relented, moving back only far enough to bring his face in front of hers.

She traced her fingers lightly over the blackness on his eyes, the cuts on his face, the bump on his forehead. Her face scrunched up in concern at the wounds she could see. And all the while, he watched her face, letting his eyes travel over every inch, thanking whatever divine holiness that may be out there that she was alive and that they were together.

He wanted to tell her everything. Needed to know what she would say to him once he'd let it all out. If she hated him for what he'd done, if she'd thought him a lesser man for losing that child, it would be all the validation he needed.

His eyes met hers as she continued her inspection of his battered face.

"Beth," he whispered, just barely.

She looked into his eyes, confused. "Beth?"

"I lost her," he said simply, but his sadness radiated through the tenors of his voice.

Her eyes widened as she was hit with grief for a lost member of their group. For Beth, a young woman she loved so deeply. She understood what he was telling her then, and she felt such empathy for this man – her man – that fresh tears spilled over her cheeks, sharing the pain he felt for the lost girl.

And just like that, in one brief, fleeting instant, he felt a little bit lighter.

"Daryl," she breathed again, her hands on his neck and fingers in his hair, and brushed her lips so lightly on his. "Daryl," she repeated, pressing her forehead against his and kissing his mouth gently once more. "Oh, God, Daryl."

She brought her arms around his neck then, burying her face into his hair and inhaling the scent of him. The wonderfully filthy and alive scent of him.

There were so many things he wanted to say to her. But he couldn't. There was nothing left inside of him, not right now. So he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her shaking form and held on for dear life.

She was here. And that was all he could deal with right now.

"Carol," Rick's voice came from behind her, and they both turned their heads to the sound, still holding on tightly to one another.

Daryl couldn't explain why his anger at Rick chose to present itself in that moment. But he glared at the man, and he knew Rick got the message when his eyes flickered briefly to Daryl before turning back to Carol.

But Carol saw something in Rick's eyes as he clenched his jaw and took a breath. So she stood up, Daryl moving to stand along with her, and she placed a hand on Daryl's chest, imploring him with her eyes to let it lie. He was hesitant to let her go, but ultimately conceded.

Carol moved to stand in front of Rick, who was holding Judith tightly to him. Jude was tugging on his jacket, trying to get the buttons into her mouth.

He looked dejected when he finally opened his mouth to say, "I'm sorry."

And she knew he meant it. Knew by the way he couldn't keep his face unruffled. Knew by the way his jaw clenched and his eyes blinked, and when his sights flickered between her and Judith, he squared himself as best he could and said, "Thank you."

"Tyreese," she began, glancing to the man who was glued tightly to his sister's side. "He saved her. It was Tyreese."

"No," Tyreese chimed in then, coming to stand beside Carol. "We wouldn't have made it if it wasn't for Carol. She saved Judith's life."

Carol took a deep breath, looking towards the ground as she willed away the wave of tears she knew were pushing their way through. She knew what Tyreese was referring to. Saving Judith meant killing Lizzie. She couldn't get the visuals out of her head. Lizzie standing proudly next to her dead sister's side, one short minute away from butchering Judy in the same fashion. Carol's shaking hand pointing the gun at the little girl's head.

She shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of the images.

Daryl came to stand on Carol's other side now, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "The girls," he said sadly. "No one's seen 'em. 'M sorry."

She flinched away from his hand at the mere mention of the girls, moving so that her back was almost right up against Tyreese as she looked wide-eyed at Daryl.

He would surely hate her for what she'd done, would certainly begin to think her a monster. Her murder count was up to three now. Three people, she'd killed with her bare hands. One of them a child.

Daryl's eyes travelled from Carol to Tyreese and back again, confusion settling on his brow. The way Ty stood, hovering protectively over her, sent an unwanted wave of jealousy flowing violently through him. Something had happened, and it was something Daryl had no part of. Something they shared that had clearly bound them together in a profound way.

The crying. The crying wouldn't stop. Just as soon as Carol thought she had herself under control, a fresh batch of tears would be pooling in her eyes and she would be crying all over again.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, to no one in particular, though she said it for Daryl. She worked up the courage to look him in the eye and apologized once again. "I'm so sorry."

Daryl was confused, and it was clear on his face. "Carol," he began, reaching towards her, but she put up a hand and cut him off mid-motion. She stayed close to Tyreese, though, and that certainly didn't escape his notice.

As though Tyreese was protecting her from him. As though this secret they held was something that would make him turn against her.

Never.

When he saw that she wouldn't – couldn't – say anything more, he ground his teeth together and glared her way. She was pushing him away, and he couldn't understand why.

His lip quivered as he tried not to cry, and he couldn't think clearly through his unexpected fury.

"Why'd you tell Rick?" he asked her suddenly, and her eyes snapped up to his.

"He asked me, Daryl. He figured it out. I couldn't lie. I told you I couldn't lie."

Rick stepped forward then, Judith now back with her big brother, and looked at Daryl incredulously.

"You knew? You knew about Karen and David?"

Daryl's anger was quickly redirected at Rick as he spun around and pushed himself directly into Rick's face.

"Yeah, I knew. And I told her not to tell anyone. Because I was gonna help her. Because she's one of our own." he growled. And then he turned back to her, pointing accusingly. "You promised me you wouldn't say nothin'," he cried.

It was too overwhelming. Too much at once. He didn't hate her, wasn't angry with her, not at all, but he didn't know what to do with himself.

"I'm sorry," she whispered feverishly, closing the gap between them – finally. She wrapped her small hands around one of his biceps, trying to get him to look at her.

He tried shaking her off, but she grabbed hold of the front of his vest and tugged at him firmly.

When he finally looked at her, his tear-soaked face tore at her insides and she grabbed his face. "I'm sorry. I couldn't lie, Daryl. I couldn't."

All the fight drained out of him little by little. He sniffed, nodding his assent. "I know. I know."

He sank into her then, leaning his forehead on her shoulder as they held onto one another tightly. He would have to know what happened, Carol knew, but right now was the time for this, for him. And she wouldn't rush it. She refused.

No one knew how long they had left.

You know what I've noticed with Daryl throughout the series? He's always asking Carol (mind you, in a snarky way) what she wants from him. Hmmm...perhaps a roundabout, Dixon-style way of wanting to make her happy? Let's go with that ; )

Oh, and also, I'm not sure why I constantly have Maggie crying off to the side of the action, but apparently that's what I picture her doing all the time, ha!

Thank you for reading! oxox