The sun had begun to rise over the community of Alexandria, bathing the town in a soft glow from the new morning light. But the coolness of the night before still stick in the air. Like an autumn morning before the sun warmed the afternoon, goosebumps could be found on the arms of anyone who was out in the brisk temperatures at this hour. The air was chilled and fresh, but created shivers in its path.

Daryl Dixon however; relished in the break from the heat of the summer sun.

He was the only person who appreciated the cold in the early morning hours. For the breeze blew over the sweat that still covered his flesh, and created a cool down that he melted against. The wind blew in the scent of the Earth and the forest just beyond the tall walls that enclosed him. Giving the man that felt like a caged animal at times, a breath of the life he loved the most.

But this morning, the scent that usually sent a calm wave washing over him, fell short. It stalled the second it came across the blood that dyed his pants in splatters and her tears that had dried against the flesh of his shoulder. Tightening his skin like paper mache. The cool weather and scent of the trees couldn't soothe the redneck like it could in the past. Not on this day.

"I thought you would've been inside."

Rick's voice floats over to Daryl, causing him to lift his head in the direction of the man walking towards him. Rick looks refreshed and dressed for the day ahead, where as Daryl sits on the steps in the clothes he wore the day before. His body still covered in the sweat and blood from the hours earlier in the night.

"Nothin I can do in there," Daryl replies, chewing on his thumbnail aimlessly. "Ain't no doctor."

Rick snorts lowly at his response, and climbs the minimal steps up to where Daryl sits tensely.

"You could sit with her you know."

Daryl shrugs his shoulder as he looks down at his knees bent out in front of him. "She's sleepin like she should. Don't need my eyes staring at her while she gets her rest."

Rick runs a hand through his shorter curls, and let's out a sigh.

"You're underestimating yourself."

Daryl hums lowly, and chooses to keep his eyes locked downwards rather than look to the man who sits beside him. Maybe because he lacks interest in Rick's words, but inside he knows it's because he doesn't want to see the look in his eyes.

"You may not be able to heal her with the right medicine or remove the bullets from her side surgically," Rick speaks in a low calm voice. "But you can sit with her."

"Give her some company while she recovers. Hold her hand when she starts feeling the pain again. Talk to her, spend time with her."

Rick looks over at Daryl, "It may not be as strong as morphine, but I assure you it would help her."

Daryl clears his throat and shakes his head in an attempt to wipe his mind from all emotion clouding his thoughts. Maybe if he could somehow close himself off completely, the things he felt would disappear as well. He managed to keep himself hidden well from others Daryl always thought, but when it came to her... he couldn't seem to hide very well at all.

"Should get goin," Daryl says abruptly. "Keep looking for the scumbags who shot her."

Daryl could've stayed out there after the accident. He could've stayed and searched for those responsible for her injuries, but instead the redneck carried her back to the Alexandrian Infirmary himself. Maybe he should've stayed out there, Daryl wonders. That way he wouldn't have to face Rick and his words. But he couldn't not be the one to make sure she made it.

Rick squints slightly at the redneck who stands up beside him. The sun rising behind Daryl blinds him slightly, but Rick doesn't take his eyes off of Daryl.

"She's going to wake up alone," Rick's words float down the short steps along with Daryl, who has since begun to walk down the stairs. Hoping that if he got up and walked away he could put an end to this conversation, but he wasn't quick enough this time. "Is that what you want?"

Daryl's boots stop in his tracks, and it was even before Daryl could think about it. The moment those words and that kind of thought entered his mind, his brain took over. Stopping him.

"You're here ain't ya?" Daryl inquires with a slight tone of avoidance in his voice. And although his movements have stopped, he is yet to turn back around.

"I am." Rick agrees with an exasperated sigh. "And I'm going to check on her during the day. But I'm not the one who needs to be there with her."

Daryl's heart rate picks up pace, and he can feel the thumping echoing in his head like a drum player deep within a cavern.

"You are."

Closing his blue eyes, Daryl turns slowly on his heel. Feeling the bright morning sun shining down upon him, replacing the cool feeling with the familiar heat of the summer day.

"She almost died." Rick points out to him, and he too stands to his feet. But he doesn't make any movement to meet up with the redneck down on the pavement. Instead, he simply stands and keeps a single hand on the railing.

Daryl's eyes reopen and lock with Rick's. "But she didn't."

Daryl Dixon's gruff and stubborn counter is what causes Rick Grimes to finally walk down the steps. His feet not stopping until he is toe to toe with Daryl, and his eyes stare at him with heavy scrutiny under the early blistering sunshine.

"Are you willing to take that risk again without telling her how you really feel?"

Rick's words cut straight into the shaken redneck like a knife, sharp as it pieces through his flesh and heads straight to his heart. Daryl feels a suffocating lump growing in his throat as he allows himself to think for a moment about Rick's echoing words.

"You have a connection with this girl," Rick speaks up again, this time with his tone softer than it was before. "and that connection and those feelings you have, they won't just disappear because you wish you didn't have them."

Daryl looks down at his feet as the weight of Rick's heavy gaze becomes too much for the poor man. And with a friendly squeeze to his shoulder, Rick leaves Daryl alone in the middle of street outside the infirmary.

It was up to Daryl now to decide what to do. Whether to do the right thing not only for her but for himself too, or continue to avoid the truth. Rick said all he could to the man, it was up to Daryl now. And with a deep breath, Daryl Dixon had never wished he was deeper in the wilderness than right then in that single moment.

*  *  *

Your eyes open to the soft glow of sunlight dancing across the pale blue painted walls. Morning, you realize, was here. And recognizing the far window, you come to the conclusion that you lay alive in a bed in the infirmary back at Alexandria. Home. You had made it home, but how you got here was still a mystery.

With a soft moan sounding from your throat, you look downward at your body that lays beneath a thin linen sheet. But even with the soft cotton sheet, you spot the wrapping across your waist. You can feel the tight stability it provides along with an odd sensation coming from your side. Not quite pain, but certainly not comfortability.

"Ye feelin any pain?" A deep southern voice sounds from the corner of the room, and it startles you. Not realizing there was someone with you in the room.

Turning your head to the left slowly, Daryl Dixon comes into view. The sunlight streaming in illuminated the man in soft hues, making him seem more tender than his bulging muscles would imply. He stood stiffly against the wall, his hair stuck to the sides of his face and he looked a mess. Not his usual put together mess, but physically and mentally exhausted in way you hadn't seen from him before.

"No, I don't think so." You croak softly, and your breath suddenly comes easier now that you realize he's here in the room with you.

"What are you doing here?" You whisper with the little voice you have, and your eyes gaze over at the softer looking Daryl Dixon.

You watch as he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, and all the while his blue eyes stare holes it feels right into you. But for some reason, his heavy gaze is a comfort in this moment. Like a warm quilt that weighs you down, but keeps you wrapped up safe and securely.

"Didn't think ye should wake up alone." Daryl finally responds with softly, after a short pause. And the words cause butterflies to erupt in the pit of your stomach and your heart threatens to stop beating for a moment.

"How did I get back here?" You inquire gently, as your calm returns and you can breath correctly again.

Daryl doesn't make any movements from his spot leaning against the wall, keeping his distance. But space wasn't unusual with this one. He always kept a safe distance from people, but from time to time you found yourself questioning why he had to keep such space from you.

"Brought you back," Daryl answers calmly, his head leaning back slightly against the wall. And the light streaming in, paints his shadow a pale blue. Something softer than any shadow seen before. "carried ye here and Denise fixed ye up."

"You carried me all that way?" Surprise drips into every word and your tone is soft with disbelief. "Surely someone must've helped you."

The car had broken down on the way to the destination you can't even remember, so the journey back would've been much further and harder than the way there. Even if one of you hadn't been seriously injured.

Daryl straightens and shakes his head. His long grease ridden hair shaking along with him, causing a strand to fall into his line of vision. Covering his eye, but he doesn't brush it out of the way. In fact, he takes cover behind the low dark brown locks. As if a defense that allows him to continue keeping any emotion hidden from you.

"I brought you back," Daryl repeats in a low mumble, and looks down at his shirt. The first break in eye contact since you noticed him standing in the room. "Still got your blood on me."

Your eyes widen slightly, as your mouth goes dry at his words. And looking closely at the man who stands awkwardly near the corner, you spot specks of red. A dark shade that looks caked to his flesh, and the sight brings on an unknown sensation.

"Why?"

Your voice seems louder than ever in the silence that settles over the room, and Daryl's head snaps up. His blue eyes finding you instantly, and his eyebrows crease gently in confusion.

"Why what?"

"Why carry me like that? Why not let someone else save me?"

You remembered the others that were out there with you, Rick and Glenn, even Abraham. One of them would've surely helped carry you back the moment you passed out, but instead Daryl Dixon stepped up and filled the role. The man who had grown so much over the years, in terms of his heart and compassion for others. But he still had his moments of standoffishness. So what possessed him to go the extra mile for you? Why was he the one to take it upon himself to carry you home?

You watch as Daryl's beautiful Georgian blue eyes widen slightly, taken aback no doubt from this line of inquiry. But he's here and he carried you back here himself for a reason... and your heart aches for the answer.

Clearing his throat with a low rumble, Daryl looks away from your gentle yet steady gaze and downward towards the floorboards. Down where his boots stand stockstill beside the muddy bootprints he tracked on his way in, and the rays of soft morning sunlight bathing the wooden floor on pale color.

It feels like time has slowed down completely, as if time has taken each second that passes by and stretches it out as long as it can possibly be stretched. And the silence begins to make sounds in your ears, an odd whistle of sorts as you wait for Daryl's response. And as the minutes continue to flow by slowly, you wonder if he'll even speak up at all. Or if all you're waiting for is to watch Daryl leave you alone without an honest answer to your curious question.

But just as your eyes begin to pull away from the quiet man, words trickle from his lips in a slow fashion and with a clear southern twang to them.

"Cause it didn't feel right."

His eyes don't raise to meet yours as you return your gaze to him, but you watch as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. And you know he isn't completely evading this moment, he's just taking things one step at a time. And getting those words out without eye contact was his first step.

"What didn't feel right?" You ask Daryl breathlessly, the words barely coming out in the soft whisper that they do. And you watch as the man rocks back and forth on his heels uncomfortably, and chews nervously on his thumbnail as he does so many times. 

And like the sun rising at just the brink of dawn, Daryl's eyes slowly look upward. Scanning everything as they move with hesitation, but soon they stop the moment they land on you.

"Letting someone else carry you home," Daryl mumbles lowly. "Letting someone else be the last person to hold you."

He believed you were going to die. He thought that the gun shot to your side would be the thing that stole you from this world. And all he could think about, was getting to hold your body just once before the light left your eyes.

"I had to be the one to-- I had to-- I--" Daryl stumbles over his own words and you watch the way his eyes flicker down in embarrassment as he struggles. But something about the honest and unlikely sight, brings butterflies to your stomach and warmth to your heart.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Your voice breaks Daryl of his scattered thoughts and his head lifts quickly to look at you. His eyebrows furrowing slightly, and his blue eyes are lighter and softer than usual.

"What?" He stutters in a low rumble.

You weren't dead and certainly weren't blind. The way Daryl was acting was the same way you felt inside when you were around him. Nervous, insecure and above all, completely taken to the person in front of you.

"Why didn't you tell me how you felt Daryl?"

And like that, Daryl goes stiff. His body tensing instantly from your words and you watch as he swallows the lump sitting in the pit of his throat.

"How could you go around carrying that secret with you day after day and not tell me?"

Daryl rakes a slightly shakey hand through his long tangles. "I just couldn't."

Running your tongue over your dry lips, you look down at your hands that lay twisted in your lap.

"You could've and you should've," You whisper softly, and your eyes raise to look at him again. "Because I would've told you I feel the same way."

Silence wraps its arms around the two of you, and in that silence, your eyes stay locked. And although no words are spoken out loud for the ear to hear, within that gaze, so many words are spoken that they scream at the top of their lungs.

Daryl is the first one to break the silence, his boots tapping against the floorboards as he walks to your bedside echo inside the small slightly stuffy room.

"Get some rest," He whispers gently, and leaning down, he places the softest of kisses to your forehead. "I'll be back to check on you."

Just as he's about to pull away and head for the door, your hand grabs hold of his wrist.

"Daryl?"

His head turns and he looks to you with a soft expression against his tanned face. "Hm?"

"I don't want this feeling to go away."

Your words are heavy yet spoken with a light and breathless tone. And even as anxiety runs through your veins the moment the words escape, Daryl's next movement puts all of that to rest.

For he steps forward once again, and this time, places his lips ever so gently against your own. His lips rough yet soft, and the scent of his flesh wraps around you like a blanket of comfort. And you know as he kisses you with words unspoken, that this is his way of promising you that this feeling isn't going anywhere.

A/N: A long one, but such a sweet one as well! This one came as a request from ddixonlove I hope you liked it and that it met what you were looking for!❤ I hope you all enjoyed this one! I worked really hard on this one and am very happy with how it turned out!