Heads up: If you are a fan of Carol/Caryl you probably won't want to read this-she is the antagonist in the story. I am basing my interpretation of her as she was in S4 especially the episode "Point of No Return."

*I do not claim that I write the TWD characters exactly like the show writers do. In fact, I write my own interpretation, and you may find them out of character and disagree with my take and opinion. But this is fanfic, and I am taking many liberties to write the sort of story I need to write at this time. It's purely my imagination at work here. I know that Carol in particular may seem out of character-I am just going in a direction that is a "what if" a "could have happened" to her as a result of trauma of the ZA, losing her daughter, etc., because that's what fanfic can be. Daryl too may seem out of character as I delve more into his discomfort with relating to people, especially women. I am in no way saying he is a weak man; I am attempting to show him as a protective, kind hearted guy with respect for, but naïveté when it comes to women. I hope you see his growth and learning curve as the story progresses. Myka has flaws but what real woman doesn't? I'm not interested in creating or writing a perfect OC. She has a learning curve too.

*As always thanks for reading. I appreciate you all for taking the time to read my piece.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings , etc., are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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It wasn't the first time she'd been singled out. Myka observed the purple bloom, getting darker on her left cheekbone, in the small cracked hand mirror she'd salvaged on a run not long ago. A mauve shadow was starting to form beneath her eye now.

Luckily the slice in her forearm was just that and not a serious wound that needed stitches. The pain and embarrassment of the previous night hurt more than her injuries. The shame and sense of isolation switched her gears into run mode. She needed out.

"Stay away from him. He doesn't need someone like you leading him on." Myka was blindsided by the anger when Carol attacked her but seeing the knife coming at her surprised her more. Luckily Rick stepped in and wrestled the knife away from the enraged Carol. Afterward, he'd accused Myka of starting trouble and reprimanded her like a dad. He and the group had a true love for Carol, and because Myka was a fairly new resident of the prison Rick saw what he wanted to see. As usual. People were shallow. She cringed. She hadn't started anything. It wasn't that Myka was a wimp, she could handle herself if she had to, but Carol's onslaught was a sudden and complete shock. Add to that the shots of whiskey she'd consumed earlier and Myka was off her game.

As she paced her cell feeling alone and out-of-place, she wondered if she should direct all the blame at Carol. Daryl had come on to her and after months of their developing friendship he hadn't once mentioned he was with Carol. Myka knew the two were close, but assumed it was a friendship. Daryl never let on to her that there was more going on. Carol had experienced horrible tragedies including the loss of her daughter, and Daryl had supported her through hard times. She understood and respected he was a private person, but fucking hell, she never would have kissed him back if she'd known he was taken. He had no business leading her on.

Her mind raced back to the second confrontation earlier that morning. She kept hearing the things Carol had said to shame her and put her further out of place in Carol's prison family. Those vile things Daryl let Carol say. "What kind of lying bitch are you anyway? Why we ever let you in here, I'll never understand..." Carol spoke loudly, unhappy to see Myka at the common table following her threats the previous night.

Myka put her head in her hands. So much for breakfast she thought. She stood to leave, but Carol continued and the table was silent. All eyes on were on the dark-haired girl with burning cheeks and a black eye forming.

"Just walking up to Daryl and kissing him like that? Maggie, Karen you'd better watch out and keep an eye on your men with this whore around. Right Daryl?"

"He walked up to me...he kissed me..." Myka began to defend herself, but her voice faded to nothing when she noticed the grim accusatory faces staring at her.

Daryl looked pained but nodded. Carol grabbed his arm and pulled him away. Maybe the older woman was right? Carol was just protecting what was hers. As the mother hen of the group she loved and cared for everyone and when threatened she lashed out; still, the outburst surprised Myka. Her problem was that Daryl led her on and set her up.

Why would he do that? Why does he let Carol treat him like her lapdog? She should have shortened his leash last night. Fuck People. I can't deal with people and their social bullshit. Lies and games and eventually someone becomes the target. Myka was now the scapegoat for the group. Every small, insular community always ends up with one person onto whom they channel anger and frustration. It started with this Carol thing; now she was labeled trouble.

Myka shook her head, but her mind continued to race as her stomach churned with the nausea of shame and loneliness. She'd never felt right here at the prison. Rick's group was all a little too goody two shoes. Too fake. All community on the surface but backstabbing underneath.

... ... ...

"Hey!" Myka surprised herself when she shouted after Daryl. She spotted him about to head outside later that morning. He stopped and turned letting her approach.

"What was that today?"

"What?"

"Not saying anything to Carol. Not telling her the truth."

He was silent.

"Why do you let her push you around?" Myka's anger spiked. "It's like you...you are different around her. Is that who you really are?"

"What the hell do you know?" Daryl felt trapped; he didn't like confrontation with women. With men, you fought and beat the shit out of each other if it came to that. But a girl? It's why he hadn't spoken up earlier. He didn't want to hurt Carol. But he'd hurt Myka. He hadn't wanted to upset either of them but didn't know how to fix it now. Women were fucking confusing.

"You're afraid of her aren't you?"

"I ain't afraid of nothin'!" He stepped toward Myka. "Goddamn it! You don't know me..." He hurled the words. Daryl was ashamed that he'd let Carol treat Myka that way and that he hadn't stood up for her, but being confronted this way threw him. He felt worse, and so he snapped at her. He regretted it immediately.

"Got it." She turned away, then left as he punched the wall.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. .. ... .

That afternoon, as she walked through the common room, past the kitchen area, the strong smell of bleach assaulted Myka. The other women were cleaning. They avoided her gaze and but she heard the snickering as she passed.

For a moment, she tried to convince herself that the bleach was why her eyes still stung, but she knew better. She suddenly felt trapped. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You've made it on your own before; you can do it again. You don't need any of these people. Getting out and walking to clear her head and make plans was what she needed. The breeze from the window was crisp and reeked of autumn, and she knew she needed the outside. She zipped her hoody and practically ran out the door. Carl was manning the gate and let her outside without any prying questions or warning to be careful. She liked that kid. He respected people's privacy.

A half mile down the road she tried to focus on the crunch of leaves beneath her boots. She was a strong woman, but even the strong break down sometimes. The pressure she put on herself was to blame, and she knew she would be fine after this walk and some more tears. She knew better than to fight it, and just let them fall. The cool air left her cheeks cold and stinging. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew exactly where she would end up, the creek.

Nestled in the middle of the woods was a small creek surrounded by large rocks. She made the short climb to her favorite rock and planted herself tucking her knees under her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs. She looked at the beauty of her favorite spot and felt the tears start to well again. She sighed with annoyance but let them fall. She buried her face in her forearms and allowed the tears to be soaked up by her sweatshirt, the cool breeze ticking the loose hairs on the back of her neck that broke loose from her ponytail.

She'd always done fine on her own why did she even let herself get close to Daryl? When you start to care you, weaken yourself. She didn't know he was with Carol. That woman seemed so much older than him it never crossed her mind, but hey there is someone for everyone. Carol was thin but bony, angular and sharp. Her breastbone was prominent jutting beneath the skin. She was not a soft or sensual woman. All hard, sharp, jagged edges, not someone who'd feel good to hold in your arms.

Carol's small, pinched face and tight thin lips made her expressions severe. Austere like a disapproving schoolmarm. When she smiled, she looked better, but her eyes disappeared into deep crows feet. Myka was most struck by how gray the woman seemed. Gray toned from her short cropped hair to her tired complexion over hollow cheeks the colorless aura covered her form. Gray, a study in gray, was how Myka saw her. Was she jealous of that? Not really. If Daryl was happy with Carol and found that attractive, who was she to say. The son of a bitch just should have been honest with her.

"Myka?" Her head shot up, and she looked around. Daryl stood in the middle of the path. She had a flash of a memory that she'd told him about this place. They were all talking about their favorite places, and the others in the group blabbed on and on about the Bahamas and Tahoe places from before. Daryl and Myka had a branched off like they usually did. She told him about her rock at the creek. She didn't think he ever told her his...

"Daryl you shouldn't be here." She turned away from him, wiping the tears from her face.

"Shit, Myka, are you hurt?"

She felt sudden overwhelming shame that he was going to see her like this.

"No...no, I'm ok. I just came out here to think. " She could hear that he had made his way to the top of the rock, and her back was still to him as she tried to discretely blow her nose and clean herself up to face him.

"Thought…" he cleared his throat, "I heard you crying..."

She chuckled a little and turned towards him, looking up at him since he was standing while she was still sitting. "Oh, I am." She laughed again, and the tears began to fall. She was not looking forward to having to explain herself. She didn't want to admit how weak she was. She didn't want to show him, or anyone, that part of her. The altercation with Carol and his failure to defend her had embarrassed her enough. The last thing she wanted was for him to think he'd broken her, or that any of them had. In fact, she had no idea why he was even here. He had made it clear that she was just in the way of whatever he had with Carol.

"That stuff I said this morning..." His voice was almost inaudible, and he rubbed his hand over his scruffy cheek. "I uh…"

"Whatever. If that's how you feel. "

"It's not."

"You said it."

He was silent.

"Look what happened last night shouldn't have happened we were drinking and I didn't know! I didn't know you were with Carol." She absently ran her fingers over the bruise on her cheekbone.

"Myka…" He sat beside her.

She turned to him filling her hands with fistfuls of his shirt as she sobbed into his chest. He held her to him, rocking back and forth slightly as she soaked his shirt with her shameful flood of emotion. She didn't know how long they sat there, but soon her sobs had calmed down to only a few little hiccups here and there, and her hands hurt from holding his shirt so tightly.

"I want to be pissed at you…I mean I am pissed, but I want to hate you. I want to tell you to fuck off…but..." Daryl was so different when he wasn't around Carol. He wasn't being led around like a goddamn dog named Pookie or something pathetic like that. He acted like a man when Carol wasn't around.

She loosened her fists and placed her palms against his chest. He was still rocking back and forth, and she kept her eyes closed savoring the feeling of absolute comfort. It had been a long time since she had been this close to someone physically and had forgotten how wonderful it felt to be comforted. She let him rock her, feeling the light pressure of his cheek against the back of her head where he had let it rest.

As her crying died down she was able to breathe through her nose again. Daryl smelled like the woods and sweat; it made her smile to herself a little. She noticed that she had started rubbing her thumb back and forth on his chest unconsciously and stopped. Daryl felt pretty solid. She had never noticed before. But now she could feel his strong arms around her, and his lean muscles under her hands, and she had a sudden urge to bury her face in his neck and kiss it softly.

She stiffened in his arms, and she could tell he noticed because he stopped rocking. It was just the physical connection; she told herself. She was upset and feeling vulnerable, and he was just...here. It had been a long time since she'd let anyone touch her like this. She wasn't one of those people you hugged every time you saw them. And neither was he. She started to pull away, and he didn't resist. She kept her gaze down and mumbled an "I'm sorry," as she wiped a few straggler tears from her face. She flashed her eyes up at him, seeing a sad look on his face as he reached across the space between them, put his hand on the side of her face and wiped a tear away.

"Yeah. I mean...I just...yeah..." The discomfort of the moment was hindering her ability to form words, but silence felt ominous. There was a battle going on in her brain, but all she could show on the outside was sitting there, in her worn hoody and ratty denim cut-offs mumbling and tripping over unformed words and half sentences. She heard him shift away, but couldn't bring herself to lift her eyes to his; her gaze stopped at his mouth. He had a couple of days worth of stubble, and his lips seemed strained slightly. She could hear him breathing through his nose, and it was a little quicker than normal. She couldn't look up any further. She knew what would happen if she locked eyes with him and was angry at herself for even thinking of it.

He just sat there. She knew he was waiting. He was not going to make a move. It wasn't who he was. It had to be her. She finally got ahold of her nerves and flicked her eyes upward.

"Look if I hadn't been drinking I'd never make a move on another woman's boyfriend. I swear I'm not like that. Even though, it seems like you started it. You shouldn't act single if you're not. Fuck you Daryl. That was wrong. Still, you were drinking too. I know how it looked."

"I'm not with Carol."

"She says you are. She attacked me for god's sake…."

"I'm not.'

Myka shook her head. "Does she know that?"

"Yeah..she just... well she wants more and I don't know how to tell her...'

"That's pathetic you know."

He looked down.

"Daryl what do you want?"

He remained silent.

"I think we need to talk, don't you?"

Daryl didn't want to hear this. He stood and glanced at the path behind them.

"Daryl? For once, would you just confront something? Why did you come here?"

"Because I wanted to."

"Why?"

"Because..."

She sighed. "What? You don't know?

"I know."

Daryl almost said more but stopped, realizing he wasn't sure what he wanted to express. He wanted her there, and yet he didn't. He wanted to walk over to her, pull her up and kiss her on those full lips, and yet he didn't. He wanted everything to be different. He wanted this clearing to break apart from the universe so there would be nothing left but him and her, away from any guilt, other people, anything that could make him feel exposed. He wanted her. It was terrifying. He almost said it. She saw the opening mouth and watched it close as he hesitated.

"I thought so," She said. "I think you should leave," She said quietly.

"I don't want to. I'm only going to leave if you tell me you want me to." There was a conviction in his tone.

"Of course I don't want you to go," She said quietly after a few seconds.

"You want me here, don't you?"

"It's not that simple. Maybe what I want doesn't matter...doesn't change anything..."

"But I need to hear you say it." Daryl narrowed his eyes at her in confusion. It was bad enough that he was here, and he was doing his best to keep himself calm and collected, but then she seemed to be trying to provoke him.

"Daryl, I think that sometimes people need to say or do what they want. Without reservation. Without giving a fuck about what anyone else thinks." "

"This sounds familiar," Daryl said quietly, looking to the side, thinking about a conversation they'd had once about selfless and selfish people, shallow people.

"I can do it first if you want."

He shrugged and sat back down. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her hands clasped just under her chin. He looked away so he couldn't see down her top. It was bizarre to him that even now he could think of wanting to do that.

In a quiet, nervous voice, she said, "I hate this place, the prison. I feel so alone, you know? Feeling lonely hurts way more when you're surrounded by people. On my own. It's just easier. I'm leaving soon anyway."

"What?"

"I'm no good with people. I don't belong here, never did. I shouldn't have stayed so long as it is..."

"That's stupid. You can't make it out there alone. Besides, you're good with me."

"See I thought we were friends. But I got Carol's message. I'm steering clear. In fact, I'll be gone tomorrow."

"Told you I ain't with Carol."

"Whatever, she picked a fight and she pulled a knife on me. If Rick hadn't been there-look I don't want to live with her, okay? Or you either for that matter. Not anymore. Be in the middle of whatever you two have going on. "

"Stop it... stop saying that. Carol's a friend that's it. I'm sorry she lost it on you. I'll tell her to cool it, okay?"

"Nah, I'm going. It's what I need to do. Honestly, I can't stand anyone in this group. I tried to fit in, but they are all so fake. All so one for the community on the surface but as backstabbing as any people I've ever come across."

"Myka no. I don't want you to go."

"Why not?"

He looked away. "I'm no good at this…"

"At what?"

He shrugged his shoulders and slumped. "You know."

It's funny how two people were trying to drown everyone else out but found each other so easily. When she looked up, she caught him looking at her.

She buried her face in her hands. He shifted closer. He didn't say a word as he tentatively slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her ever so slightly towards him.

Daryl, what are you doing? I need you to leave."

"But...

"Please."

In a fit of annoyance, he stood up and nearly spoke but turned around to look at the water.

A moment later, Myka made a decision. She decided to believe him. She stood and took both his hands in her own. They were close together, and he was looking right into her eyes; eyes that burned with heat. Her thick, black hair cascaded down one side, and her sweatshirt had slipped down leaving shoulders bare, begging to be touched. He wanted to kiss her skin.

"I ain't with nobody. I shouldn't have said those things to you...I'm here cause I wanna be. Cause of you." His voice was rough and stilted."For months," he breathed, "months, I been waking up in the middle of the night, thinking of you."

She moved closer so their lips were only inches apart. "Me? Is this what you want? Really want?" She whispered.

Daryl nodded his head very slowly, unable to take his eyes away from her lips. He moved forward a little, barely conscious of what he was doing. He could feel her fingertips slowly traveling up his arms, over his shoulders and up his neck to cradle his head. Her touch was sensual, yet affectionate. Without another word or resistance from him, she closed the gap and kissed him deeply on the lips. Daryl wasn't aware of anything except how soft her mouth felt, how much of her urging he could feel in her lips pressing against his, the quick flicker of her tongue over them. He didn't know how long the kiss lasted. He was far too involved in experiencing her body pressing against his and her hands firmly on his neck and jaw to pay attention to time. An endless second or so later, he moved back. He looked slightly surprised, and he was breathing hard. It took him a moment to realize his hand was higher up on her body than he thought. He had no memory of moving it, much less any conscious awareness of holding her head. He looked at it and then let it drop.

"That was, was that a good thing to do?" Daryl asked quietly.

Myka was already nodding her head, her breathing calming down a little. She slightly smiled as she glanced at his hand, wondering how he would react if she took it and put it on her breast this time. "That was a good thing to do. And I want to do it again."

"So, you stayin'?" Daryl stared hard at her. At that moment, her warm smile was blazing, and her eyes had never looked so focused on him. His body was already straining to move forward again just for another kiss; maybe just one more. However, with great effort, he forced himself backward.

She nodded and moved toward him for anther kiss, but he pulled back. "I think... " Daryl said quietly. Then a moment later, he added, "Not right now. Not yet."

Her eyes widened at the implication of that yet, but her face fell at his hesitation. He gave a quick, small smile, not wanting to reveal too much of his feelings. The truth was he didn't want to go anywhere. The longer he stood there, the urge to kiss her lips again grew. He wanted to kiss down her neck and over her shoulders, to begin slipping off that top of hers.

"Myka, please. Just listen," Daryl said in a whisper. "If... What I mean is, when things happen. I need it to start off right. Not behind anyone. Not behind Carol's back. I should talk to her about this."

Myka regarded him for a few moments before sighing. "And if she doesn't like the idea of it?"

"She's my friend," Daryl answered simply.

"What does that mean? Does that mean you'll step aside and not do anything? You won't go for something you want?"

"If she's my friend, then she'll... she'll understand."

She didn't look like she believed him, so Daryl shrugged. "I have to do this, okay?"

"I know you do. But today okay? Now?"

He nodded, relieved.

"We should get back." She mentioned as the reddening sun lowered into the western tree line.

Once the prison gate was in view, Daryl turned to Myka and pulled her in for a long, deep kiss. They moved away from each other, smiling, and then his face got serious.

"What's wrong?" She asked, instantly scared for some reason.

"You go on in ahead."

"What? Why?"

"Mind if we keep this to ourselves for a while?"

"But..." She sighed, reality intruding on her fantasy. "I guess not, why?"

"I need to find the right time to tell Carol. She's been through a lot. I wanna tell her in my own time. Not spring it on her."

"Carol, huh?"

"Yeh…you get it, right?"

Myka just nodded. Carol again. It will always be about Carol.

"So go on, no sense in her seeing us walk in together."

Myka knew then that she'd made a mistake.

…. …. ….. ….. ….. … … …

The next morning Daryl looked for Myka everywhere.

"She's gone."

Daryl turned to Merle behind him as he stared into her cell thinking it looked empty.

"What do you mean gone?"

"She packed up and lit out at dawn."

"For good?"

"That's what she said." Merle answered, gripping a toothpick through clenched teeth.

"And you let her?" Daryl practically shouted.

"Why the fuck not? I don't got no claim on the girl."

"But she can't just be on her own out there."

"Like I said Daryl. I don't got a claim on her. Why do you?"

Daryl opened his mouth to speak but before he could answer Merle caught sight of Carol approaching. "Oh hey little brother

Grandma's looking for you. Better run along son."