Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead.

A/N: I hesitated so much with this storyline because I not am sure that I can capture Daryl as eloquently as some of the other writers on this website. The Walking Dead fan fiction writers on this site are amazing! In any case, here is the requested update. I am going to give the backstory as requested as well that should explain the direction of this chapter. This chapter starts in Daryl's POV.

The First Time

Chapter 3

Merle always joked it was it was best thirty seconds of any man's life, damn fuckin' Merle for bein' fuckin' right, again.

~Daryl Dixon's inner voice

Didn't know it would feel like this. She would feel like this. Want 'er so much, so long. She can't possible know, can she? Can't believe it feels this good. She is so soft under me. Smells so good. How the fuck is that even possible? Damn-those little fuckin' noises she's makin' "ah's" and "oh's". Is she enjoyin' it? Ah! Jesus. Fuckin'. Christ. It's coming. Pulsating-can't even begin to explain this feeling. Can't get close enough ta 'er. Fuck. Oh. Fuck. Can't stop it. Don't wanna- Oh! Yes!

"Carol!" I cry out jerkin' on top of her. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! We don't even have our clothes off yet and I dun ruined it! I bury my head in her shoulder, embarrassed.

"Daryl?"

Love that voice. So soft, sweet makes me believe anythin' is possible in this fucked up world. "S'rry," The word comes out in a slurred rush.

"We have all night," she whispers, pressing her lips softly to my ear. "It's okay."

I nod against her shoulders. It's most definitely not okay, but I know 'er. I know 'er now. She's everythin'. Can hardly believe we have survived to this point, so few of us left now since the prison, the governor, and findin' Morgan. I lift my head slowly. Starin' down into those big blues eyes, feels a lot like drownin' sometimes. "I want it ta be good."

"It will be," she whispers as she look up at me with this look, this fuckin' trust. "I'm nervous, too."

She smiles. I smile. "I love ya, Carol."

Her fingers tangling in my hair and give me a tug toward 'er sweet mouth. "I love you, Daryl."

We've come so far from where we started that night on the road. Where it all started…

~Two Years Earlier~

Daryl squinted into the darkness. He couldn't see a thing past the tree line. Not that he expected to in the dead of the night, anyways. Not that it really mattered because he was used to relying on his other senses. Sound. Smell. They were better than sight at times. He had honed those senses long before the end of world. He needed them in the house he had grown up in. Hell, they were practically a fucking survival requirement in the Dixon household. He turned before Rick even spoke.

"Sorry, man." Rick held up his hand. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Ya didn't." Daryl replied flatly.

"Why don't you catch some sleep," Rick suggested, rubbing his hand down his face. Exhaustion was clear evident in the sheriff's reddened eyes.

Daryl looked back over his shoulder toward the fire rather than responding. The glimmer was a dim hazy orange from their stance at the perimeter.

Rick sighed at his lack of response. "You need to sleep, Daryl. Glenn and I are taking the next shift." Rick stated, leaving no room for argument.

Daryl frowned before nodding at Rick. He walked reluctantly back to the fire. Last thing he wanted to do was sleep. Sleep meant thinking and dreaming. Things Daryl didn't relish in this moment. That was even if he could sleep. He wandered if she was still wake. His teeth bit at his ragged nail as he approached the their makeshift camp sight. He could see Maggie huddled next to her Dad and little sister Beth. Lori was curled around Carl, protecting him from the cold. T-Dog was huddled close to the fire, his mouth open as he snored. Daryl's eyes flickered to one person that he was hoping to avoid.

He sighed. Carol was curled into a ball, her knees pressed to her chest. Worse yet, she was shaking all over only this time it wasn't from crying. Shit. She was freezing. Too damn skinny. Damn it.

Carol's teeth were chattering. She couldn't quite believe how cold it got at night. The ground underneath her was hard and unforgiving. She could hear the wind as it howled through the trees, ruffling the leaves making the cold seem each more acute and keeping her on high alert. She heard Daryl's approach. She figured he would settle himself down on the other side of the fire somewhere farther than the group, but instead she heard the crunch of his boots on the ground nearing her.

Daryl dropped down next to Carol, shrugging off his jacket. He twisted to place it over her shoulders.

Carol turned to him. "I'm fine. You going to freeze." Carol lied trying to keep hold off the teeth chattering as she extended her hand to him with his jacket.

Daryl's eyes narrowed. "Ya. Not like ya shakin' or anythin'."

Carol's fingers fisted in the leather as she contemplated her answer, she had already said too much earlier. She was somewhat shocked that he was still talking to her. "Daryl…" she started.

"We're not arguin' bout this Carol." Daryl said his voice low and determined.

Carol sighed. She turned around and laid her head down her fingers pressed into the cold dirt. The jacket helped a little. "Thank you, " she said softly, but loud enough for him to hear her.

Daryl swallowed hard. He had never been like this in his life. Never really thought about anything or anyone. Took care of his self since he was six. Hell, sometimes he even took care of Merle and his Pop. His eyes drifted back to her. Fuck. She was still shaking. He knew the damn jacket was not enough. Fucking hell.

"Lift yer head," Daryl whispered.

Carol lifted her head, instinctively.

Daryl slipped his arm underneath her. "C'mere."

Carol edged backward slightly, cautiously. Not because she feared Daryl in any way, but she feared his reaction too much closeness whether instigated by him or not.

Daryl could feel her hesitancy. His own body was wound tighter than a drum. Touch was not something he was comfortable with rather it was something he avoided at all costs. "Relax," Daryl mumbled.

Carol nodded and dropped her head slowly onto his arm. His bicep was almost as hard as the rigid ground, but it was infinitely better. Warmer. Sweeter.

Daryl closed his eyes, trying to block out her nearness. Her face was soft, her breath tickling the skin of his arm. She smelled sweet which had to be craziness because they had been on the road all fucking day. He swallowed hard, ignoring the impulse to tug her closer. Fuck, what was it about this woman that had him thinking and doing these crazy things. "Ya good?" Daryl whispered.

Carol nodded her head against his arm.

Daryl's eyes drew back to the line of trees just beyond the fire. He would close his eyes, but not sleep. They weren't safe like this, out in the open even with them walking a perimeter.

Carol stirred. Blinking, she struggled to shrug off sleepiness. Her eyes opened to brown cotton. She blinked again. Yes, brown cotton. Daryl's shirt, her teeth sunk into bottom lip, She was flush against him or rather he was flush on top of her. Carol could feel his warm breath against her neck. They were tangled together. His face nestled into the crook of her neck. Hers was against his shoulder. His leg was wedged between hers nestled high pressed intimately between her thigh. She could feel his right hand on her lower back fisted in her sweater. He shifted in response to her stirring and Carol froze.

Daryl stilled for a second before tugging her closer, groaning in his sleep as if to protest any movement away.

Carol closed her eyes, letting him pull her closer. Her hand resting gently on his waist held tight as she felt herself relax into him, drifting back to sleep.

Thoughts? Worth continuing? Thank you for reading!