Noxi: I hadn't been sure if I was going to actually produce another chapter and this might be littered with a ton of mistakes but I don't really care. I've been on a serious hiatus and I'm really sorry for that. My writing has hit a stone wall lately, and I've just not been in the mood for anything. But. I hope that this helps – both you and me.

The Walking Dead belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

Letting Go

"Don't do this son." He stared out the gate, gripping the handlebars tight. He dropped his head, jaw clenching. This wasn't about what he had or didn't have to do. It was about what he wanted. This was about Carol. He'd lost enough family that he wasn't gonna let her go without a fight this time.

"Wasn't given a choice," he growled, looking up at Hershel. "When Rick decided to leave her he decided to lead again." He dropped his foot to the ground, leaning back. "The hell was the point of the council if he's just gonna keep doin' whatever the hell he wants," he snapped. Rick talked about a democracy but he never let that happen. He kept makin' decisions without consultin' people first. No matter how goddamn serious it played out to be.

Hershel sighed, hands settling over his hips. "Tyreese would say the same about her," he said quietly, staring at him hard. Daryl couldn't believe what he'd just heard. He slipped off the bike, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't want to consider what the old man was saying but it was there, thick between them.

"The hell does that mean?"

Hershel shifted his weight, rubbing a hand over his face wearily. "It means that Tyreese is thinking the same thing about Carol that you're thinking about Rick."

He was silent as Hershel's words sifted through him, weighing him down. He thought Rick was being a selfish bastard; arrogant and hard-headed. Why in the hell would Carol kill one of their own, let alone two? It just didn't make any goddamn sense.

"Hershel," he said, voice pinching at the end, the desperation slipping in. "It don't make no goddamn sense," he countered.

"Why the hell would she kill Karen and David when she was talkin' about separatin'em in the first place?" He started pacin', trying to place where he had last seen her at all times. How many times had he caught her It was too long ago now, and too much shit had happened between then and now.

He turned on Hershel, fighting the urge to run back to Rick and Tyreese and beat some goddamn sense into them. "She loved them. Loves all of us. She'd rather die protectin' us than kill one us." He shook his head, trying to think of what could have brought this around.

"Don't nobody know that?" Hershel stared at him with pity and he hated that. It was like he was the only who believed she were innocent.

"Rick took a look around," Hershel explained slowly, gauging his reaction. "Found marks, indicating the bodies were dragged. Hand print on the wall. Someone took it into their hands to end Karen and David's life," he drawled, "and Carol confessed to doing that." Daryl was shaking his head.

"Carol wouldn't do that." He raked a hand through his hair, holding Hershel with his gaze. "She wouldn't do that," he said determinedly. Hershel nodded like he was only agreeing to calm him. Daryl hated that. His Ma used to do that shit to his ol' man all the time so she wouldn't get beat.

"Quit lookin' at me like that," he grumbled.

"Look, son, Rick was only doing what he thought was right as the situation called."

"Did anyone even see her do it?!" He wasn't no detective but he sure as hell knew better than to just assume that Carol's confession meant shit. He dropped his head into his hands. "It's Carol," he murmured. "She wouldn't do that to us."

She wouldn't do that to him.

"I'm going after her." He'd find her. And he'd fix this shit.

"We don't abandon family. We all done some fucked up shit," he growled, pressing a finger to Hershel's chest, unable to hide the pain in his plea. "We all done things we ain't proud of." Hershel's eyes searched through his, jaw tightening. And after a moment, he nodded once.

"I'm going." Hershel gripped him by the shoulder, squeezing once.

"Alright son," he muttered.

Daryl had wasted enough time. He took off before someone else thought to stop him.

xXx

Finding where Carol and Rick had stopped to look for supplies wasn't hard. There were enough walkers around to suggest humans had attracted them there. And from what Hershel had explained the place looked about right. But he hadn't found much. From what he gleaned out of them back at the prison, she'd taken off in the direction opposite of the prison.

He didn't know where she'd go, or for how long she'd drive. But he had his suspicions. There was only one road and he kept to it. If she stayed in the car then she would stick to the road. He'd trust her to that. After what Rick did he didn't think she would stick around. She would go until that tank emptied and she'd fill it again, which meant he had more ground to cover than he liked.

So he gunned it. And he rode until it was nothing but the sun at his back and the wind in his hair and he couldn't see nothing but Carol in front of him.

xXx

He didn't want to admit that the longer he drove, the less hope he had. He'd passed nothing but walkers and every mile of distant emptiness was just another reminder of what he was slowly losing. He finally had enough when the sun was slipping over the horizon, casting his shadow to the ground. He was losing light and he had put so much ground behind him and with no sign of Carol in front of him he didn't know where to go.

"Dammit."

He pulled over at the side of the road, and slipped off the bike, leaning against it wearily. He was exhausted from doing nothing but riding and worrying. He had lost her. It was as simple as that.

No. Not him.

Rick. Rick had lost her. Pushed her away. So fuckin' stupid. All because he had to have his way. He understood protectin' people, your family, but what Rick was doing was takin' things into his own hands. HE made a decision without everyone else there.

Maybe he saved Carol's life, but what if only condemned her to a fate worse than what she'd a seen back at the prison. Rick didn't know how Tyreese would have really reacted to Carol. Carol was loved by everyone in the group.

"Dammit!" He bent at the waist, clutching his head, breathing hard. His head was spinning and it wasn't because he was tired or from the drive. He was sick of trying to be neutral when everyone else was pining to be on one end or the other. He could care less about being a leader, but that didn't mean he wanted someone else to make his choices for him.

The walker came out of the trees, slow, broken, wasted. He heard it before he saw it and he didn't care much to do anything about it. Except he was pissed and tired of doing nothing so he unsheathed his knife and took a few quick steps toward the walker, his pent up anger propelling him until he grabbed the walker by the collar of its eaten away shirt and embedded the knife in its head.

He was panting by the time the thing fell at his feet, void, empty, silent. He stood above it, wishing that finding Carol could be as easy as killing the damn walker. He crouched to his knees, taking a deep breath as he cradled his head. He had to go back. He couldn't stay out here when there was nothing for him to find. Carol was gone. She wasn't going to be found and he had to hope that was all she was.

He didn't know how he caught it but he saw them; the tracks. Tire tracks leading off the side of the road, further into the forest. For a moment, he didn't breathe, staring at the tracks like they were his last lifeline to earth. And then he was up and running, not bothering to worry about where he was at, or which direction he was going in. He could figure all that shit out later. He kept his eyes on the tracks until they ended at a car.

He ran to the door, slamming his hands to the window, peering inside. But there was nothing.

"Shit!" He slammed a fist to the glass, head hanging between his arms, breathing heavy. He was fuckin' close; he could feel it, right on his fingertips. He was missin' something he just didn't know what.

What had he done wrong?

"Daryl?" He reeled back, drawing a sharp breath as he looked in the direction of her voice. When his eyes landed on her, he almost choked on his relief. He stared at her for a long moment, the silence between them defeaning, his heart thundering in his ears.

And then on a loud beat he was moving, the knife dropping to the ground, hands outstretched toward her.

"Where the hell have you been?" he cried out, grabbing her by the shoulders, nails digging into her skin, his relief so overwhelming he didn't think to let up.

She was silent, eyes wide. "Daryl, what…" He felt his shirt stretch and he glanced down, catching her hand fisted in it. He swallowed back the reaction he would have had at a different time and met her eyes again.

"Carol." He took a steadying breath, loosening his grip on her shoulders, focusing on her face. "Where the hell have you been?" he whispered softer this time, thumb absently stroking her shoulder, grateful that he'd actually found her. He'd been afraid that he'd lost her – forever.

Her jaw tightened, and she glanced away.

"What are you doing here?" And he would have thought she didn't want him there. His grip slackened, and he pulled back, feeling like an idiot. He shouldn't have been here. He should have been back the prison, he should have never come after her. Except he didn't believe a damn word that Rick said.

So he was here.

"Rick told me." She nodded, the muscles in her jaw going taut. And then she pulled away from him, he hand slipping from the fabric of his shirt. A cold slipped over him, gripping him tight.

"You need to go back." He blanked. He'd come all the way out here for her, and he wasn't going back until he at least got some goddamn answers.

"What?"

She looked over her shoulder at him, her expression calmer than he'd expected.

"They need you Daryl. More than I do," she murmured. He made a small choking noise as he struggled for something to say. This was not what he'd been expecting.

"What happened? I wanna know your side." She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. If there was anyone he thought that she would trust, he had thought it was him.

"You have to go back Daryl. Without me." He waited for her to elaborate, to give him something more than that and she didn't. She stood there like he meant nothing and like he should just walk away from her like she meant nothing.

She couldn't just expect him to walk away from her like that. He wasn't leaving, not without her.

"Dammit Carol that doesn't answer my question."

"And I'm not going to!" she barked back, surprising him, looking frustrated. As if she refused to talk about it. She'd never been that way with him before.

"I can't," she begged, breathing hard, shoulders sagging.

"I don't get it. Why?" She bit her lip, breath shuddering out of her. "After everything you've done for us, why?" She reached up placing a hand over his shoulder softly, fingers curling in his vest.

"Because we take care of family." She smiled sadly, repeating back the same words he'd always told himself and let her hand fall to her side. He had been right. She hadn't done nothing. Least, nothing that Rick thought.

Whatever it was she was pushing him away from, she was taking that on herself. And if she hadn't killed Karen and Dave then someone else had. And she was coverin' for them.

He stepped closer, closing the space between them, and reached up. His hand shook as he touched her throat softly, fingers wrapping around her neck. Her life in his hand. How many times, he wondered, had someone else held her like this and how many times had it been this gentle? He could feel the blood pumping beneath her skin fast and hard but it wasn't fear that made her heart jump under skin. Even he could tell that much. He licked his lips nervously.

Touching her was like crossing a line he told himself he'd never go beyond.

"Don't wanna leave ya again," he murmured, memorizing the deep of her blue eyes. She smiled, and curled her hand around his wrist.

"You didn't leave me. You never left me," she whispered, assured. "And you won't now either." She leaned into his hand, eyes closing just barely as she sighed into his touch. He'd never felt like anyone had ever wanted him, would have felt safe in his hands. But she had never been afraid of his hands.

"But you need to go back to them. They need you now. They've always needed you." Her lip trembled and he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been standing so close. His fingers pressed harder against the back of her neck and he leaned in closer to her, watching as her eyes fluttered open and their breath mingled together nervously.

"They need you too," he whispered desperately. "I…I-" She placed her finger to his lips with a shake of her head, silencing him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered back. "Not this time." She smiled softly, sadly, in understanding. What had been done couldn't be taken back. Even if he had come out here without thinking, he didn't regret it. Even if she wanted to go back with him, she couldn't.

Even if that meant he had to go back without her.

"I don't believe it," he murmured harshly, jaw tightening. And he could have sworn that her eyes shimmered. He wanted to take her hand and pull her back to his bike and take her home. But a part of him, and that part was so strong, agreed with her.

She cleared her throat. "We'll find each other again." She took his face between her hands, fingers firmly grasping at his jaw and pulled until their foreheads touched. His skin was on fire. She swallowed hard, eyes flicking between his. She wanted him to do this, wanted him to go back for her.

She wanted him to believe in her, that she could survive this.

"I will find you again," she whispered fiercely, holding to his gaze before leaning forward slowly and pressing a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. His eyes fluttered closed and his breath caught in his throat and he stilled. But it was over before he knew what he should have been doing in return, and she was wrapping her arms around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at his neck as she pulled him flush against her.

"Take care of them," she murmured into his ear. It was a stolen moment, stupid as he watched dust filter through the rays of light shining through the branches above them. Her heart beating against his chest, her arms around his neck, voice in his ear; it was all just a moment. Something that wouldn't last in the grand picture.

So he buried his face in her neck, and wrapped his arms around her waist, breathing her in. This was all he had. This would be all he would get, as his lips tingled in the aftermath of her kiss, the feel of her chapped lips still fresh in his mind. He dug his nails into her sides, pressing his face firmer into her shoulder, listening to her sigh.

What had they been denying all this time? What had they both been hiding from? He was an idiot for being so afraid of this; for being so afraid to be loved. For being so afraid to love her.

"I'll find you," he whispered, lips moving over her shoulder and he could taste the salt on her skin. She nodded, and pulled away before he wanted to. The silence between them was heavy and he knew he had to go. He trailed his fingers over her jaw, memorizing her face; her eyes, her lips, her jaw, the small crease of her smile. Because this was all he had now. He was going to leave her behind and he didn't know when they would see each other again.

If they would.

And he turned away, fingers trailing off her skin as he left, and he ran. He ran until he was breathless and heaving by the side of the bike and he couldn't feel anything but the warmth of her skin still burning his hand.

But when the warmth faded like the sun falling faster beyond the horizon, and he was left with nothing but silence he drove off quickly, leaving her behind. He clutched the bars tight, wishing instead of emptiness that her solid warmth was behind him to make him feel whole.

A/N: I'm not sure what you'll all make of this, but I hope you like. I missed you all.