A/N: Hey guys. This chapter was soo hard for me to write, but I hope you guys enjoy it.

WARNING! This chapter includes sexual and abusive subject matter, so please be cautious reading.

"Daryl?"

Carol stood in the middle of men, her shirt stripped off her, her nude bra and forearms concealing her. The tears that stained her freckled face weren't new, but Daryl's eyes narrowed at the red mark across her right eye. Her hair was a mess, her ankles close to buckling and she looked at Daryl. She didn't look at the men growling at her feet, she wasn't looking at the captured women, tortured and raped. She was looking at Daryl; the one person she always thought could save her.

But I don't know what to do.

Daryl can feel shallow breaths escaping from his chapped lips, a heartbeat so fast he thinks he might explode, and he can feel her eyes burning into him. If he tried to stop Merle and his group from hurting Carol, they could both be dead in a matter of minutes. Daryl's cross boy was no were to be found, and even with his favorite weapon, it would be damn near impossible to get out of there alive, especially with a useless Carol at his hip.

"Hell, Darylina, what'cha waiting for?" Merle's familiar voice pulls Daryl from his thoughts, his eyes shooting up to the brother that he had never liked, but stuck with because they were family, and they wanted to survive. "You brought the bitch, only fair you get the first crack at her."

It all happened so fast. She drops her arms when she notices her walking towards her, an expression of relief mixed with confusion in her eyes. "Daryl?" She questions, more than once and Daryl can barely hear her because he's telling himself this is what he has to do. This is how they both get out alive.

He walks to her with a strut that Carol almost can't remember, and when he latches onto her wrist she can feel the fear in her body. It's a tight, cold grip that hurts and he yanks her to him, his eyes downcast and hollow and she falls right into him. She can barely catch him whisper "I'm sorry," before he latches his lips onto hers.

In different context, this moment would be magical for Carol. His kiss is hard and passionate and nothing like she had imagined. She can feel his tongue slither against her white teeth, asking for permission and she grants it with an open mouth, her eyes fluttering closed, blush forming against her temples, and for a second she forgot what was happening

It's when Daryl forces her legs apart with his hand that she realizes it. Was he one of them now? Could he have changed so fast? Would he really hurt her like this? She stands shaking, her mind in shock as his lips find its way down the nape of her neck, all the way to her chest. His heavy fingers flutter against the most sensitive area through her shorts, and she is overwhelmed with pain and fear and she feels suddenly alone and violated by the person she had thought she trusted the most.

"Daryl.." she struggles to let the words escape her lips, and it's not long after that when he tosses her aside. She takes a few unbalanced steps, falling to her knees.

"The bitch is all yours." Carol can hear Daryl mutter and he wipes mouth with the back of his hand, and Carol can't even look at him because Merle's hand his against her shoulder, pushing her into the dirt and suddenly there is laughing and cheering and she almost can't hear her own screams.

"Stop it! Please, stop it!"

The pleas for helps echo in Daryl's ears as he scans the camp, to busy trying to find out how to escape to think about how disgusted he is with himself. His eyes fall on a motorcycle, almost identical to the one he has back at camp. No figures Merle would get his hands on his favorite ride. He runs to it, getting his hands into the satchel at the side, pulling out a pistol. Nothing fancy, but there wasn't enough time to go gun shopping.

There is a man on top of Carol, his legs jamming her legs far apart, his hands gripped against her now bare breasts. She screams aloud when his excited eyes form into dead ones and it takes a moment to realize he had been shot. He lands lifeless on top of her, red seeping out of the side of his head.

"What the fuck?" Merle says aloud, and nearly everyone's gaze finds its way to a pissed off guy with a gun riding straight to them. Shots are fired, and few men falls to the ground before the group dissembles, diving to safety or to retrieve their weapons. "Hell no, Baby brother!" Merle shouts at Daryl, making a desperate leap for a weapon of any kind.

Carol had just managed to push the dead man off of her, pulling her bra back to her chest as Daryl picked her up in one heroic swoop, and there screaming and firing fading in the back and neither one of them take a glance back.

By the time Daryl thinks its safe enough to stop, it's already dark. Carol tumbles off the bike before Daryl stops it all the way, her wobbly feet taking a few staggered steps in the dark woods, and she stops when her hands find a tree trunk that she can lean against. It's silent for a moment, the only thing in the air the sound of Carol's shaking breath and Daryl can barely take it.

"Carol," He mumbles, taking a few steps forward and he notices the fear in her dark eyes. He is taken back a bit, planting his feet into the ground and he can't help but think that she is looking at him like she would look at Merle. Like a monster, and Daryl can feel his heart drop as he wanders if he would have fit well with that group too. "Carol, listen to me." He protests. "I had too, it was the only way we could both of gotten out of there without getting hurt."

"Without getting hurt?" Carol speaks up, her voice more angry than anything and Daryl can feel himself take a step back. He can hear her crying as he tries to make out her words. "I have never been so hurt."

It's dark and Daryl can't see her, but he imagines she's pushed herself up against the tree, as far away from Daryl has she can get. "Okay, I'm sorry." He says, and Carol recalls it's only the second time he's ever apologized to her. "I'm so sorry." Carol hears Daryl's voice crack, and for a moment she wonders if he is holding back tears. "I could never do something like that to you. You have to understand…" His voice trails off and he clears his throat, running his hands against his eyes to his mouth. "It ain't safe to be drvin' at night. We will have to get back to camp in the morning." Daryl quickly removes his favorite Angel winged jean vest, reaching it out to Carol. "Here; you must be freezin'. Take it." He can see her shift away from the tree, but she doesn't accept his jacket and she hears as he drops it on the ground before he walks back to the bike, leaning against in on the ground. "I couldn't stand to watch em' do that to you. I couldn't stand doing that to you." He says, half to himself and Carol lets out a quiet cry.

The night was well underway when Carol finally accepts the jacket, and it feels good against her broken body in every way. She doesn't sleep because when she closes her eyes she see's those disgusting pigs on her and her legs and stomach quake with pain and she knows Daryl isn't sleeping either. When does he ever? The words he had spoken last had rung in her brain, her shaking fingers buried against her eyes and she knows he didn't mean to hurt her, to provoke other to hurt her. He was trying to save her.

She gets up from the tree a few feet away, finding her way to him and her hand is soft against Daryl's shoulder and he doesn't even flinch when she lays at the ground next to him, a thin space of air betweens their bodies and Carol can't decided if she wants it there or not. She can hear a heavy breath escape from her lips as Daryl shifts next to her, his arms making their way gently across her stomach, and he hesitantly intertwines his fingers with her shaky ones. She sighs. This is him, the Daryl she knows. Not the monsters that had held of her earlier today. She clasps her hands into his, pushing her body back against him and she feels perfect with him there.

Perfect.