Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead, or any of the characters.

...

His Gift.

Two weeks earlier.

"Fuck's sake Glenn," Daryl hissed, his crossbow swivelling this way and that. A few bedraggled walkers gurgled, shuffling towards them from the bust in door. He cast a glance at Michonne, but he needn't have worried. The warrior was arcing her katanna above her head, eyes wide with barely contained fury. Blood spattered, soaking the floor a rusty black.

"Shit," Glenn spat as he shoved past a walker, his knife thrusting into the side of its head, spraying rotten debris over his arm. "Hate these things, I ever tell you that?"

"Many times," Michonne intoned in a flat voice. "Many times."

"How much longer?" Daryl yelled, shooting a bolt throw a corpse that had lost the majority of it's jaw. It's grey tongue lolled out at him, long dirty matted hair billowing, and Daryl shuddered in disgust. "Fuckin' ugly skank."

"Almost..." Glenn whistled through his breath as his eyes lighted upon what he'd been searching for. "There!" He grinned triumphantly at them both, but they weren't looking at him. "Think Maggie will like this?" he said holding up a brooch in the shape of a galloping horse.

Michonne briefly glanced across at Glenn, her foot driving down firmly on an undead head, pulling her katanna from it with a sickening squelch. "Just fine Glenn, Sure Maggie will love it!"

She cast Daryl a wary look, rolling her eyes, and Daryl had to suppress the smirk that threatened him. "M sure she will love anythin' ya give her."

Michonne laughed brightly.

He made his way across to where Glenn still stood beaming, brooch in one hand, blood drenched knife in the other. Then Daryl saw it. His heart pounded as his eyes passed over the small gold trinket laying in the bottom of the ransacked shelf. It was perfect. He slyly kicked at Glenn's foot, waited for that split second as the other man glanced away, and reaching in, he snatched the small trinket in his hand. He'd been looking for this for what seemed forever. Carol had lost her necklace awhile back, and while he wasn't a soppy man, this one single thing had compelled him. He wanted to replace that lost necklace. He wanted it for her. But finding the exact right thing that spelled out his feelings for her, mattered. A lot. More than he'd thought. He slipped the necklace into the depths of his pocket before anyone noticed.

Michonne gleefully whooped as they made their way out of the derelict shop, throwing their backpacks full of accumulated baby formula, diapers, small amount of medicines they'd found, comics for Carl and assorted crap onto the back-seat of the car. "High time to tail our asses back home," she said grinning widely.

...

Daryl Dixon was starting to get damn well annoyed, pissed even. She wasn't in her cell, and at this time in the afternoon, he'd assumed that she would have been there. She normally was. Grunting, he turned on his heel and stomped down the stairs, booted feet rattling every step.

He caught sight of Rick. The former sheriff was stood looking at a piece of tattered paper in his hand, covered with bright scrawls of green and yellow. He looked up at Daryl, a half smile on his face. "Judith's first picture," he laughed, "Although I wonder how much of Beth went into this drawing. Judith can barely hold a crayon." He placed the paper back on the table.

"Ass kicker got some skill," Daryl smirked. "Have ya seen Carol?" he asked, as he watched Rick pick up his farming gloves from amidst the clutter on the table.

Rick paused, glancing briefly at him, "Last time I saw her, she was with the kids. Library I'd guess."

"A'right. Will try there, thanks man."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." Daryl replied curtly, giving Rick a look as if to say mind your own business.

Rick pulled the gloves on, flexing his fingers through the thick soiled leather. "Going on a run later, if you want to join us. Glenn and Maggie are coming."

Daryl grimaced. "Nah, think I'll pass on that." He really didn't fancy being couped up in a sweltering claustrophobic car with those two cooing love-birds. They made him slightly nauseous if the truth be told. All that holding hands lovey dovey touchy feely shit.

Rick grinned, "Well, will keep a spot for you, in case you change your mind. Now if you don't mind, I have crops to inspect, and ground that wont dig itself."

"Yeah, yeah, have fun," Daryl replied, sneering. The minute Rick started on his farmer mode, he could feel his eyes literally glaze with boredom.

...

He hot footed it into the library, only to find Beth there, Judith sat on her lap, the baby's little pudgy hands grasping out to grab the tattered kids reading book, and Beth trying her best to hold it out of the child's reach. A small ring of children sat around her feet, rapturous looks on their faces, and they all turned and stared at him as he burst into the room.

Daryl sighed. Damn woman wasn't here either. He looked at Beth, "Seen Carol?" he growled.

Beth looked up at him, her eyes widening, and she made no attempt to hide the giggle she felt threaten her. "Um no. I haven't seen her today. Maybe she's in the shower room? But don't go in there Daryl. Daddy says a man shouldn't ever intrude on a woman when she is doing her personal things. Knock the door first?"

"Like that ain't fuckin' obvious," Daryl said, oblivious to the several squeaks from the children upon hearing him say a 'bad word'. "Will try there I guess, and yes, I'll knock the door," he sighed as he saw a worried look cross Beth's face.

...

He wasn't sure just how long he'd been stood there, one hand still raised in mid-knock. Didn't seem to be any sound coming from there. He'd even pressed his ear to the door. Nothing. So, he rapped the door once, raised an eyebrow, then shunted the door wide open, only to back out of the room quickly, his face reddening rapidly, as an angry yell shot out after him.

"Don't you ever knock?" Sasha squealed angrily. "Get out! Get out!" and for emphasis, she threw the sponge she'd been soaping her back with at him. Daryl almost squeaked in embarrassment.

He stood with his back to the door, sweat starting to bead at his brow. He had knocked that damn door he thought. Just Beth hadn't said you had to knock it more than once. He was just so fuckin' thankful that Sasha had had her back to him. He felt his toes curl with shame... if she had actually been facing the door...

...

Maybe she was at the watchtower, Daryl thought, and he raced out into the courtyard, glad to put some distance between him and that damned shower room. He glanced upwards, eyes squinting in the sun. Nope, didn't seem to be anyone up there. Maybe was just changing between watch duties he thought, reaching into his pocket to pull out a battered pack of cigarettes. He'd half smoked it when he'd pushed the trap door open.

The sight before him left him utterly speechless. He felt all the spit dry in his mouth as he saw two naked bodies disentangling themselves hurriedly, a colourful blur of a blanket as it was hasteningly shoved around the prostrate couple.

"Daryl!" Glenn yelped.

Daryl stared at him, his mouth hanging open. He shut it quickly, clicking his teeth into his lip painfully.

Maggie had her face hidden in the crook of Glenn's neck, and Daryl just stood there, at a complete loss as to what to do, frozen into place.

"Get out?" Glenn yelled helpfully.

"Fuck. Shit. Sorry man," he said, backing away from them. "Didn't know anyone was here."

"Just go?" Maggie squeaked, peeking at him from underneath Glenn.

"Anyone ever tell you your timing sucks?" Glenn hissed.

"Was jus' wonderin' if Carol was here," he replied. "And I can see she ain't." Shit, this day was getting worse by the minute. He was aware that his face was burning , and he rubbed a hand over his cheek.

"Ya really think she'd be here, Daryl? Does it look like it?" Maggie sighed impatiently. "Oh my God, just go please!"

Daryl retreated rapidly, lifted the trap door and descended in record breaking speed.

...

He spied Bob walking nonchalantly across the courtyard, and double backed to meet him. Bob looked at him in surprise.

"Hey Daryl," he said smiling.

"Ya seen Carol around?"

"No, sorry. Have you seen Sasha? I've been looking for her, but damn that woman's elusive," Bob laughed good humouredly.

"Oh, she's 'aving a shower," Daryl said absently. "Sure ya 'aven't seen Carol?"

Bob's eyes widened in surprise. "How do you know she's having a shower?"

Daryl glanced at Bob. "Saw her."

"You been spying on Sasha?" Bob breathed, alarm tinting his voice.

"Huh?" Daryl slowly turned to face the former medic, looking at him through the curtains of his hair. "Naw man. I walked in, saw her there."

"So, your'e saying, you saw my woman all naked?" Bob stood looking at Daryl, face agog.

Daryl shook his head, " Didn't know she was your woman," he said distantly. Where the hell was Carol?

Bob almost shrieked. "And that makes it alright? Jesus Daryl, making the moves on my woman, and I've not even made the move myself yet!"

"No! Wasn't what I meant! Shit Bob," Daryl spat in alarm. "I didn't see much, if that helps?"

"Pervert," Bob answered, "And I'd have never have thought that of you. Wow."

"'M not a pervert," he retorted hotly.

Bob glared at him, "Well least I know where she is now, no small thanks to you!" and strode off purposely towards the interior of the prison, shoulders hunched.

...

Daryl sighed. His hand went to the small package in his pocket, his fingers closing tightly over it. He had to do this now, give it to her before his resolve failed and crumbled. If he didn't...he was more than likely just to leave it in her cell, or worse, just throw it at her, and Daryl didn't think that would be such a good plan. For one thing, she would surely miss the intent behind his gift.

Just short of the chain link fencing, he spied Michonne walking amiably with Carl. They were laughing, he could see Carl's head bobbing up and down in mirth, the sheriffs hat wobbling on his head. Michonne said something, Daryl couldn't make out what it was, and the next minute she had flipped the hat off the boy's head, laughing as she stooped down to pick it up, and ram it firmly on her own head. Carl jumped to grab it back, and she stood back from him, grinning, her teeth flashing white in the bright sunlight. Kid seemed good for her, Daryl thought, smiling to himself. He'd seen her lower her guard around the kid, only to bring it firmly back up whenever anyone else was around. Like now. She'd seen him, and she waved a hand at him. Daryl raised his own in greeting, noting the sudden sombre tint to her bearing, the way she dragged the hat from her head, one hand quickly tousling the boys dark hair before gently placing it back on his head. Daryl sympathised. It was that way for him too. Only one he could let his guard down with was Carol, and that had been such a slow process, but even now, he couldn't help but keep some small part of himself separate, no matter how much it hurt her, and pained him.

Hence the gift. And the urgency to give it to her now. He'd made a stupid assed commitment to himself, for her, and he didn't want to chicken out now he'd finally made his mind up.

...

As time dragged on, he could feel his resolve slipping, could feel himself starting to retreat back into himself. He started to wonder if his little plan was plain old stupid, a joke, when he finally saw her. He smiled despite himself, despite the way his heart seemed to skip a few beats at the sight of her.

She was heading back towards the prison, walking arm in arm with Tyreese. Daryl felt his blood curdle thickly in his veins. Why the fuck was she walking, arm in arm with Tyreese? His mouth gaped open as he watched Carol rest her head briefly on the big man's upper arm, the way Tyreese lowered his gaze to hers, the way their gentle laughter seemed to mingle pleasantly together. Daryl closed his mouth, swallowing thickly. What was she doing, with him? He looked down and was unsurprised to see his fists clenching tightly. He stood, rooted to the spot, watching as they walked away from him...and all of a sudden he felt the paralysis lift. Be fucked if he wasn't going to find out what the hell was going on. She was his, not Tyreese's, not any other damn man's, but his!

He saw them pause and slowly turn to him as his boots fled up the concrete towards them. He slowed his pace to a jog, trying his damnedest to appear nonchalant, but by the way her eyebrows were arched at him, he knew she was aware that something was amiss.

Tyreese looked at Daryl with wide eyes. Then he glanced at Carol, nodded his head briefly and smiled as she patted his arm, before turning on his heel back towards the prison. Carol turned to Daryl, eyebrows still arched, her blue eyes sparkling impishly. She stood, waiting for him to speak, taking in his slightly dishevelled appearance.

Daryl raked one hand through his hair, before saying gruffly, "Lookin' cosy there."

"Cosy?" Carol frowned at him.

"Ya deaf woman?" he barked impatiently. He nodded towards the vacant spot that had been Tyreese a moment before. "You 'n Tyreese. Lookin' all cosy like."

Carol stared at him, eyes widening, before putting a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. "You think...there's something going on with Tyreese? He was asking my advice. I mean asking me of all people? I'm hardly an expert on affairs of the heart. I told him he should just ask her. He wouldn't know 'til he tried. Karen is a nice girl. He could do worse."

Daryl just glared at her, growling.

"Is Pookie jealous?" she asked, taking a step closer to him.

"Stop," he said, not looking at her, scuffing his boots on the hard ground. He felt her hand tentatively on his, and despite his annoyance, he felt his skin warm, almost burn at her touch. He bit at his lip. "Walk with me?" he asked quietly. He felt her fingers slip tentatively between his, and with a shuddering breath, he clasped her hand in his.

They walked a few yards in silence, although Daryl couldn't swear that she could hear the way his heart was yammering away in his chest. He cast a side long glance at her, his eyes drinking her in. She looked so god-damned perfect, he thought smally, she looked too perfect for someone as rough and unrefined as him. Yet her hand was still clasped in his. He knew that he cared for her, loved her even, as much as he could ever know what love truly was. She made him feel like he was the most important person in her life, and his heart swelled tightly in his chest. His fingers tightened on hers, and she squeezed his hand back, looking up at him with a wistful expression.

"I got ya somethin'," he said hesitantly after a while. His voice sounded rough in his head, and he started to feel like a dumb ass. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. What if she laughed at him? He thrust his hand into his pocket, his hand clasping on the small package. He felt sweat trickle down his back, and wondered if it would just be easier to slip his hand from hers, run back to the prison and hide in his cell. Chicken-shit coward, he heard Merle's voice in his head suddenly, chiding him. Man up for fuck's sake! Woman's yours, take her! Daryl swallowed hard as he pulled his hand from his pocket.

Carol slipped her hand from his, instead resting her hand softly on his wrist. "Daryl, it's okay," she said gently. "Whatever this is, you don't have to do it."

He stared at her through the curtains of his hair, and taking a deep breath, said, "I want to. Let me."

She reached up, smiling at him, trailing a finger softly down the rough stubble of his cheek. He winced at the touch, his eyes flickering from her to the ground, back to her. His breath felt stagnant and heavy in his lungs. He held the small package out to her, hand trembling, willing her to take it, to not take it, to let him run away from this moment in time. Her cool fingers briefly skimmed his palm as she took his gift.

"Blue paper?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Is just the wrapping. Was a bitch to find, but I wanted it, 'cus I reckoned would match your eyes," he said lamely, mentally kicking himself for being such an idiot for even mentioning that to her. He'd just wanted this gift to be special, perfect, like what she was to him.

He ventured a glance at her, and was frozen to the spot at the sight of the tears shimmering in her eyes as she undid the wrapping. Nestled in her palm, on a bed of blue tissue paper was a small gold filigree heart on a fine gold chain. She looked up at him, and the tears spilled down her cheeks. He ached with the want to swipe his thumb at those tears.

"It's beautiful Daryl." She reached up and placed a soft kiss at the base of his jaw. "Thank you."

"S'nothing," he mumbled shyly, aware that her hand had moved from his wrist and was now lightly placed on his chest. On his heart. He wondered if she could feel the heady throb of his pulse racing beneath her palm.

"It's everything," she whispered. And Daryl felt his heart give out. With shaking hands, he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her, clasping her to him tightly. She pressed her face to his chest, sighing softly. Daryl suddenly decided that he liked the way she fit against him, and that maybe...just maybe this wasn't such a bad thing. He could let her knock down that last wall that separated them.

Reverently, he kissed the top of her head, his lips brushing her soft hair, and he thought he could hear his brothers voice say, about time baby brother, about time.

...