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She was alive.
She had to be.
He refused to believe otherwise.
At first......holding that scarf in his hands, looking at those remains, the majority of which being unidentifiable.....he believed she was lost to them. That sinking feeling in his gut began to permeate and solidify. When he looked down at her grave and placed that small, beautiful flower on the fresh dirt and rock, and allowed his hand to linger on the homemade cross, the feeling solidified even more.
But he never fully believed. His mind was as restless as a caged animal, and it was only a matter of time before it broke free and fled off to its home. To the place where it felt loved, safe, and warm. For Daryl Dixon, that place was Carol Peletier.
Now, staring at that knife embedded in the skull of this Walker, he knew. While he had never fully believed that she was gone, the events that had led them up to this point had taken hold in his mind and heart. T, Lori, Rick, the baby.....all of it had taken priority for everyone really, not just him, but for him it was his way of not having to think about Carol. It was his way of coping, and acceptance. He didn't have time to grieve, especially since the group needed him as a leader right now. Daryl had accepted his place in the group; they are the ones that kept his feet rooted to the ground. They were family. Carol was the one that brought him home.
Daryl wanted to go home.
His crossbow wavered slightly as he stared at the hilt of the knife, his blood pounding in his ears. He didn't need to take a step closer, he knew who's it was, but he got closer regardless. His gut clenched and he slowly took in a deep breath. "That's Carol's knife."
With that statement, everything he had been holding back took over him, and the restless animal finally escaped from its cage. There was not a shred of doubt left in his mind. Carol was alive, and he had to find her.
He took off down the hall without another word, knowing that the others would follow without question. For the first time in a very long time, his crossbow was a heavy burdensome thing and he slung it across his back, choosing his knife instead. His tracker senses had taken completely over and searched for any and all signs of Carol's whereabouts. He didn't even stop to take out the few stragglers that they came across; he slashed, and the others dealt with them. They were all deathly quiet, afraid to shout out for Carol, or to voice their fears. Instead they followed the man in front of them, letting him search while they protected him.
They rounded a corner, a closed door at the end of the hall with several Walker's pushing and pawing at said obstacle. As the group got closer, they saw that the door was starting to give and buckle slightly. Daryl was among the Walker's like a whirlwind, the others scrambling to get to him before they lost him, too. Within a matter of seconds, they were the only ones left in the hall. Daryl was beating at the door with all of his might, Carol's name echoing around them. With their combined efforts the door finally opened, a desk chair skittering across the room.
Daryl was the first to enter the room, his knife held tightly in his hand as he searched around the dank office. His eyes landed on the desk in front of them and his heart stopped, the knife falling from his hand to clatter on the hard floor beneath his feet. Carol had emerged from underneath the desk, her hiding spot, and was standing there with the same expression that everyone else was wearing.
Shock.
Relief.
A combination of both. There she was. Unharmed, alive, and healthy. Well, perhaps a little dehydrated and hungry, but apart from that she was just fine.
A small sob broke free from Carol's throat, breaking the silence. Daryl was across the room, Carol over the desk, and then she was in his arms. They held on to each other tightly, Carol sobbing and laughing in relief at the same time, Daryl squeezing her and patting her back. "Shh, shh, it's a'ight. I've got ya. Y'safe now."
Carol pressed her lips to the side of his neck and inhaled deeply, both of them unaware of their audience standing quietly behind them. "I knew you'd come for me, no matter what." She cleared her throat and moved to let go of him, fresh tears starting to run down her cheeks. "T-Dog..."
"Don't." Daryl said firmly, taking her face in his hands. He shook his head slightly, his thumbs brushing the tears and grime off of her cheeks, eyes boring into hers. "Don'cha do that to y'self, ya hear? T knew what he was doin', an' if he could do it over, he'd do it th'same way agin. You an' I both know that."
Carol searched his eyes with her own, knowing that what he said was true. She slowly nodded her head, bringing a hand up to rest on his. "I know."
Without hesitating, Daryl surprised everyone by bringing his lips to hers, capturing her lips in the most passionate kiss he could muster. He held onto her tightly, reassuring himself that she was really there in his arms. When she returned the kiss and curled an arm around his neck, he knew that he wasn't dreaming. He had found his home, and home is where he would stay for as long as he could manage.
Ignoring the giggles, cat-calls, and whistles, Daryl regretfully broke the kiss and rest his forehead on Carol's, his thumb stroking her cheek once more. "Ain't gonna let you outta my site agin. I'm gonna keep you safe, an' alive, an' here wit ev'ryone else. Cos we're family. You're m'family. I'm gonna protect that wit ev'rything I got, I promise."
Carol smiled that soft smile of hers and kissed Daryl again, her being absolutely glowing amid the carnage and destruction. "I love you too, Daryl Dixon." He didn't have to say it for her to know that he did indeed love her.
He flushed slightly and gave her an actual, genuine smile. He took her hand in his and inclined his head towards the door. The others all threw themselves on Carol as soon as they got to them, keeping their reunion short and sweet. "A'ight ya bunch of howler monkeys, let's get back t'the rest." Daryl picked his knife up from off of the ground and handed it to Carol, taking his trusty crossbow back into his hands as they left the office, back to the rest of their family.
Daryl would never admit to it, not even to his own children, but he was grinning like a love-stricken teenage girl all the way back to their Block. When Carol tells the story, he scowls deeply and denies it, all the while trying not to grin.