"Hey, honey, I need another beer!"

The music was so loud she could barely hear herself think. "Pour Some Sugar On Me" was playing for the fifth time and she was ready to rip her hair out by the roots.

"Sweetheart! Can I get another drink?"

She was used to the men calling out orders even as she passed them with a full tray. She was used to them grabbing her wrist and asking her to sit down and have a drink with them.

"Carol."

She wasn't used to them knowing her by name.

The voice was quiet but it seemed to cut through the thumping music like a fin through a wave. And it was familiar. So familiar.

But it couldn't be. It just couldn't be.

She turned, balancing the heavy tray on her hip, and there he was, just a foot away.

The sight of him nearly knocked the breath right out of her.

It had been so long since she'd seen him, two and a half years, but he hadn't changed a bit. The same thick, dark hair. The same bright blue eyes. That same smug grin.

"Ed…" she whispered breathlessly, squeezing the tray until the metal edges bit into her palm.

She suddenly felt light-headed and the heady air in the club, thick with smoke and perfume, wasn't helping.

"I heard you were working here but I didn't believe it," he told her with a smirk, reaching for her hand. "Sit down and talk to me for a minute."

"Sorry, I-I can't," she told him, scrambling to back away, stepping just out of his reach. "I've got to get back to-"

He cut her off with a steely glare, his voice hard as he spoke.

"I wasn't asking."

She swallowed hard, feeling that old flare of alarm in the pit of her stomach at his low, serious tone and his gleaming eyes.

He expected her to do as he said, to jump to attention whenever he spoke. He always had.

But, she told herself, he didn't have that kind of control over her anymore. He'd lost it when he took off without a word. Without even a note or a letter or a phone call.

Now…now, he was just another customer.

She held her head high and walked slowly back to the bar, trying to regain control over her racing heart. And she managed to stay just out of his reach for the next hour as she went about her business, toting glasses and dodging stumbling men, tottering women, and lit cigarettes.

So it scared the hell out of her when, as she was busy at the bar, she felt a heavy hand land hard on her shoulder, clammy fingers digging into her flesh.

She let out of a yelp of surprise, automatically trying to escape the grasping, clenching fingers. But instead of releasing her, they spun her around, causing her to drop her tray. It hit the floor with a clatter that was lost to the music, empty glasses shattering on the floor.

But he didn't care. He didn't even seem to notice.

He grabbed her other arm, squeezing her bicep hard and pinning her in place with her back against the bar so she couldn't get away.

"Why you been avoiding me tonight, Carol?" he asked softly, eyes boring into hers. "Ain't you missed me?"

"What do you want, Ed?" she managed to ask, her voice trembling. "Why are you here?"

Customers were milling all around them, bumping into them, laughing and whistling at the dancers on stage. But the room might as well have been empty.

An eerie smile curled across his lips, "I just wanted to let you know I was back in town."

His words sent a bolt of fear straight through her, raising chill bumps on her arms, but she raised her chin defiantly.

"Why should I care?" she asked, forcing herself to look him in the eye.

What she saw there turned her stomach.

"Oh, I think you care," he said quietly, releasing one of her arms so he could grab a fistful of her red, curly hair. "I like your hair long like this. Looks good on you, Red."

And to her horror, he leaned forward and buried his face in the handful of hair gripped between his fingers, yanking her head along with it. She could hear him inhaling deeply, felt hot tears springing to her eyes.

She tried to squirm away but his grip on her bicep was firm to the point of being bruising. There was no escaping it without gnawing off her own arm like a wild animal caught in a trap.

"Hey!"

Her knees went weak with relief at the sound of a familiar voice.

It belonged to the bouncer on the floor, a man named Daryl Dixon.

She looked up to see Daryl shoving his way through the crowd, gaze zeroed in on Ed's back. She'd never been so happy to see him, her knight in shining leather and denim.

"Hands off, motherfucker!" he snarled, jerking Ed backwards by the collar of his shirt.

Ed spun around, automatically swinging, but Daryl was quicker. She knew he was used to dealing with drunken assholes every night.

He ducked Ed's blow and caught him in the jaw with one of his own, sending him stumbling backwards into the bar before socking him in the gut. Ed doubled over, coughing and gasping for breath.

The strobe lights were flashing overhead, blue and pink and white, and the whole scene was jerky and strange and nauseating.

"You alright?"

She was too stunned to hear him. Too stunned to move. Her whole body felt like it was made of lead.

"Hey, you alright?" Daryl asked again, his voice rough.

He had to practically shout just to be heard over the music. It was just enough to break through her dumbfounded haze. She met his eyes as he grabbed Ed by the collar and managed to nod, swallowing the fearful lump that had lodged itself in her throat.

She stepped back as Daryl shoved Ed towards the door, cursing him furiously under his breath. Ed didn't even put up a fight as Daryl unceremoniously kicked him out onto his ass.

And it was that easy. He was gone and she was okay and it was over.

For the moment.

She knew it wasn't that simple with a man like Ed. If he was back in town like he'd said, her life was about to get very complicated.

She suddenly felt exhausted at the very thought of it.

Across the crowded floor, through the writhing bodies, she saw Daryl standing on his toes and searching her out over the crowd.

Their eyes met and she saw some of the tension fade from the sharp lines of his face. The music seemed to fade away for a moment and she parted her lips, mouthing the words "thank you".

He held her eyes for a moment and she wondered if he had something to say, if he was going to make his way through the crowd to come talk to her.

But after a moment, he just gave her a brisk nod and turned away, lost in a sea of strange faces.

He was an odd one, that Daryl.