It started innocently enough. Rick slowly surfaced from unconsciousness, woken by the sound of soft voices in the distance. Hushed and indistinct. Words unable to be deciphered. A typical noise in the Prison, where sound carried easily within the stone and steel walls. Privacy was nearly non-existent here. A luxury lost to a world where the Dead walked, society had crumbled into near nothingness, and humans beings were their own vicious worst enemies. The world had brutally been divided into three. The Dead, your Family, and Outsiders. The Dead were always a threat, a well-known and comfortable one by now. Outsiders were always an uncertainty, easily shifting between threat and possible new addition to Family. Rick knew, however, that the chances of Outsiders being this deep in the Prison without everyone knowing about it were nil. Almost everything could be heard by neighbors in the cells next door, across from, or even down the open hall. Sneaking in these halls was almost impossible. There was no avoiding other people knowing your business in these corridors. Conversations, arguments, laughter, nightmares, fucking. Nothing was sacred, and people learned to ignore it as best they could out of politeness. It was one of the few remaining social niceties that remained, and could actually be observed. No one really wanted to acknowledge they knew what the person next to them looked like taking a shit anyway. So learning to ignore things like that was a lesson in survival of sanity if nothing else. There was safety in close numbers, but there were also adjustments that had to be made when living in each other back pockets.
He was reluctant to move from his thin, worn mattress, lethargic, with muscles aching from his previous day tending the group's small vegetable garden. He was warm, and comfortable for once, despite his body's aches. What they had growing currently wasn't much, but it gave them fresh produce in a world where canned or boxed food was swiftly running out, and becoming more and more difficult to find. Fresh vegetables were damn near a God send nowadays. A welcome change from what they had been eating for so long, when they'd actually had food to eat. Finding the Prison was the only reason they had not starved to death while out wandering the endless roads. Even if the place had turned out to be a mixed blessing. In the long run, it had paid off despite having to clear out the many Walkers, the death of his late wife, Lori. The forever lost part of Carl's childhood innocence in having to be the one to give mercy to his mother. The birth of his daughter Judith in the horrible, bloody chaos of it all. Dealing with the powder keg that was set to blow any moment when they'd discovered prisoners still alive in the dark halls of their newly claimed home.
Sending Family out to scavenge the wrecked homes of previous residents for food and supplies was always depressing, and dangerous. Anytime any members of their Family left the Prison they were taking their own lives in their hands. Any time someone passed the safety of the gates; there was a very real possibility of them never coming back. It was a harsh daily reality. So Rick lingered for a few minutes, drifting lazily in that pleasant fuzzy place between sleep and wakefulness. Where there were no threats to his Family, to his home. Where there were no endless responsibilities to immediately jump to. Where no one had urgent demands. He could just...be. For a few minutes anyway.
Vaguely Rick is aware of his surroundings but blatantly chooses to ignore them for the time being. He keeps an ear out for any noises coming from his daughter Judith, indicating that she was already awake. Silently thanking whoever would listen for small blessings as he did so. Judith was a quiet, calm baby for the most part. She was happy, and playful, but she was rarely loud. Noise could be a death sentence in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Rick often questioned if she was naturally quiet as part of her personality, or if she somehow instinctively sensed, the way baby animals often did, that too much noise would get their precious lives snuffed out. The lack of her soft breathing in close proximity to him indicated that Beth or Carol had already whisked his daughter away for a morning feed before she could wake him up. Letting a long sigh out through his nose, Rick stretched carefully, mindful of sore, tender muscles as he did so. He groaned low in his throat in a mixture of pleasure and pain as joints popped in his neck, back and knees. He felt some of the tension slowly let go, leaving behind a soft, happy buzz under his skin. Reluctantly he squinted his eyes open with a small displeased grunt, glaring at the opposite gray stone wall. The dim light in the cell felt too bright, and stung his eyes.
He didn't want to get up.
A loud clang of metal from down the hall, however, proved that it was unlikely that Rick was going to be able to fall asleep again anytime in the near future. Regardless of what he personally wanted. Family and their survival always came first, even if he really desired a lazy lie in this morning. As it was, though, Rick could tell by the angle of sunlight coming through the small cell window, that it was later than he first thought. The sun was fully up in the sky, which meant it was late morning already, and he'd overslept. He stretched again across the flimsy Prison mattress and hissed under his breath as the muscles in his back twinged sharply in protest. Ignoring them, Rick forced himself to sit up, shoving the light blanket off himself as he did so. He rubs his hands over his face and through his hair roughly in an attempt to force himself into alertness. It didn't work, and he was still groggy. What he wouldn't do for some strong black coffee right now. A pot of it, all to himself. The thought of it brought a wry smile to his lips. Rick knew he wasn't the only one that would happily kill for a pot of coffee. Good coffee, real coffee, not that disgustingly nasty instant bullshit they kept finding on supply runs.
Male laughter drifted down the hall to his ears. The sound causes a small smile to bloom across Rick's lips again as he stood up from the bed. There hadn't been very much of that anymore. Laughter. All too often the world was full of screams and tears. The sickening rending of human flesh as another loved one was lost to the ravenous Dead. They had lost so many on their journey here, and had gained others. Rick wondered if it would continue to be like that, losing a trusted loved one only to eventually replace their space with a near stranger. He hopes not. Rick wasn't sure how much more he could stand. Losing Merle hadn't been a personal hardship; he had not known the man. But Rick knew the loss had been devastating for Daryl. Losing Amy had been much the same, he hadn't really known her, or Jim. But he's felt the loss more keenly because they had been more real to him than Merle had. Jaqui had been a sad loss, even if Rick respected her choice. Not everyone was strong enough for this world; Rick understood that now in ways he had not before. Jenner, he couldn't give a damn about truthfully, the man had tried to kill everyone precious to Rick. Sophia's demise had been a nightmare Rick never wanted to relive, ever. He knew it was the same for Carol and Daryl as well. That was a wound that would never fully heal. Dale dying on the heels of that tragedy had been a harsh blow to everyone.
Killing Shane, his brother. Had broken something important inside Rick. Something he didn't believe would ever be repaired. Rick could easily pinpoint that event as the moment his sanity began to splinter. The previous traumas, the betrayal of his wife and best friend, her pregnancy, had just laid the foundation for what had come next. Rick didn't like to think of how he had been to his Family while they were on the road. He knew he had indulged in a hard, ugly part of himself then. Barely holding onto whatever it was that made him human. He's had to hold it together, for them. Or they would all die. And that had not been acceptable to him, on any level. So he kept moving, kept them safe, fed them as much as he could. There was no time to grieve, no time to mourn their losses. It was walk or die. So Rick forced them to walk.
Rick physically shook himself from his morbid thoughts. Now was not the time. Those days had passed for now. It was better to keep his mind on the here and now. That was what was important. Reliving the past rarely provided happy memories for him anymore. He shuffled over to grab a change of clothes, making a mental note to have Carol or one of the others remind him later to wash his clothes. After so many years of Lori doing chores like that around the house, Rick found that he had to go out of his way to remind himself. There were so many other things on his mind that he often times, forgot little things like this. Feeding his people was more important. Making sure they were safe. The fences secure. Organizing supply runs. Making sure he knew where his kids were, and with who, at all times. Even if he was not physically there to see them. Laundry was pretty low on his mental priority list most days. Hence, the reminder. Quickly he shucked off the clothes he had slept in and pulled on a new set. Rick snatched up his gun and belt as he slipped out of his sleeping cell and moved down the corridor towards where they had set up tables for eating.
Rick didn't plan to linger. Only stop long enough to check on people, grab some quick bite to eat, and be out the door to begin the day's long list of things that needed to be seen to. He was already running well behind his normal schedule as it was. As he walks into the cafeteria, he spots a couple small groups of people clustered together eating and talking. He overhears snippets of this and that. Chore lists, supply shortages, light teasing between friends, some Woodbury woman gossiping about who's been screwing in the cell across from hers. Rick mentally rolled his eyes. Some things never changed, no matter the state of the world around them. You would think the woman had better things to concern herself with, but apparently not. If Rick wasn't well aware that Carol had women like her reined in and kept busy most of the time, he'd have made it a point to find something for her to do. Luckily, that was one task he could confidently leave in her hands. Carol was efficient and organized and made sure to keep everyone running that way as much as realistically possible. Privately Rick mused that he'd never considered running a household as one of those needed skills for the end of the world. Oh, how Carol proved him wrong every single day. He was grateful for it.
He can see from his quick glance around the room that he has missed breakfast. No matter, he's grab something quick on his way out. He didn't really care what it was. Food was fuel. A means to an end these days, as far as Rick was concerned. Rick spots Beth on the other side of the room, bouncing a giggling Judith lightly in her lap as she chatted to the baby, all smiles and silliness. Hershel's youngest daughter had surprised Rick as well. The girl was sweet and big hearted. Violence wasn't something that came naturally to her in any form. Rick had been unsure of she would mentally or emotionally survive after the loss of the farm. But little doe-eyed Beth had dug up a before unknown level of strength and determination. She struggled, she learned, and kept fighting every day. Beth reminded them all what it was to be innocent and human. Reminded them that not everything in the world was Dead, and ugly. Some things remained if you chose to look. Rick knew many in their Family appreciated the reminder. It made the bad days more bearable. Rick makes a beeline for the young blonde girl, grinning in affection at the sight of the two of them. Beth was wonderful with Judith, and Rick was thankful the young woman was more than willing to keep an eye on his daughter as much as she did. It freed Rick up to do many things he would not be able to if he had Judith constantly on his hip. Tilling, clearing the fences of Walkers, all would be much more difficult, if not impossible with a baby attached to him while trying to accomplish it.
Judith shrieks to high heaven when she spots him coming over, causing Beth to look up and smile in return. Automatically she holds Judith out to him, and without a word, Rick scoops his baby girl up into his arms. Kissing the top of her head and breathing in her baby scent. Beth watches them with affectionate amusement, which Rick ignores. He's well aware of the sappy expression on his face any time he had Judy in his arms. He doesn't care. Rick's voice is an affectionate rumble when he speaks to his little treasure. "Well hello there my pretty girl. Are you having fun with Beth?"
Rick can feel eyes on his back from the other people in the room as Judith babbled excitedly in response, reaching up to tug on his beard. Rick silently notes as Judy carries on, that she is freshly bathed with clean clothes and apparently already fed. He doesn't know why he bothers to check every time he sees her. He knows full well any member of his Family will immediately step in if she needed something and he was busy. There were even times now that they brought her to Rick when he took a pause in his tasks. To let them visit for a minute, or give him a chance to parent her a little bit before being forced to deal with the next existential crisis. Most nights when he was done for the day, she rarely left his lap. It was the only time of day he had a decent chunk of time to spend with Judith and Carl without interruptions. And the night he did not have Judith in his lap, when he was doing things that focused more on Carl, Daryl had whisked her away. The mental image causes a soft warmth to spread through his chest. You would never know it from looking at the man, but Daryl was wrapped around Judy's pinkie finger. Rick anticipated much trouble from that when she got a little older.
For now, though, Judith was content to sit in his arms and just soak up his attention for a few minutes before he had to move on to the day's tasks. Rick carefully sits down at the table with her, giving the little girl his full attention for the time being. Talking to and tickling her sides until she slaps at him to stop. Rick feels himself relax fully as he's with her. Occasionally Beth adds to the rather one-sided conversation. Judith laps it all up with gusto. After spending some time bonding with his daughter, Rick reluctantly returns her to Beth's arms. He grabs one of the remaining cold bowls of whatever was still available to eat, it looked like oatmeal, and shoveled it into his mouth. Then heads outside before he was quite done chewing the last bite. Rick squints in the late morning light, the brightness stinging his tired eyes. Raising a hand over them to shield from the sun, he scans the yard to see who is about.
Glenn and two of the Woodbury men Rick couldn't remember the names of looked to have already cleared Walkers off of the fence line where they had gathered during the night and was now repairing any damages that were found. Rick turned his attention away from there. They had the situation handled already. Childish laughter catches his attention, and his eyes swivel over to an open grassy part of the yard. Carol had a group of younger kids with her out in the open, playing some kind of chasing game. Rick notes with some grim amusement that it was a bastardized version of tag. With the child that was designated as 'it' being a Walker, and the rest of the children having to dodge out of the way or be eaten. It was a terrible game, but Rick could see the underlying lesson in what Carol was doing. Even though the kids were laughing and having fun, they were learning how to run and dodge one of the Dead. A lesson that might save their life one day, if things kept on as they were now. There were few enough children in the world as it was. If some of their lives could be spared by teaching them this game, instead of having them freeze in fear. All the better.
Rick turns his head towards the front gate as he hears the low guttural rumble of Daryl's motorcycle. The sound and vibration of it cause an involuntary shiver to go down his spine. There was something about that damned bike that sparked fire in his blood. Firmly Rick pushed the feeling away. Now really was not the time for his body to get ideas of its own. He spies the man sitting astride the machine next to the closed gate, and absently licks his lower lip. Rick was no stranger to lust, but it had been a long, long time since he had felt it for anyone. Never mind someone of the male gender. In fact, Rick was pretty sure he hadn't felt such a strong physical pull since his Police Academy years. Even then, it had been the early years of his marriage to Lori, and he'd never seriously considered pursuing it. Rick watched as the morning sun shone off the battered wings on Daryl's vest as he spoke briefly with Carl. Another thing that Rick found deeply attractive, Daryl was not shy about dealing with Rick's kids. He was good with them, and obviously cared about them. He watches as Tyreese, Maggie, Carl and Michonne move to grab various long instruments to stab at the large group of Walkers through the chain link while Daryl raised his voice to taunt them closer. Like it was really necessary with the rumbling engine of the motorcycle, but that was Daryl. Happily cussing them out simply because he could. It amused Rick probably more than it should.
Walking towards the group, Rick watches Daryl get off the bike and move to help the others, leaving the loud motor running. Rick draws in a sharp breath as he watches the smooth, practiced motion. Heat flares again in his blood. For a couple heartbeats Rick lets himself admire the long, lean physique of the other man. Eyes trailing over toned legs encased in ratty, dirty jeans, his muscled back and arms flexing unconsciously with the motion. Rick firmly forces his attention back to the Walkers on the fence before he could embarrass himself. He didn't have time to dwell on the latest issue of his confusing libido. Daryl was a complicated, temperamental man on a good day. Most likely raised in a strictly hetero household, if Merle was any indication. Though Rick knew the two men were very much different, they came from the same environment, and Rick had gotten the rather strong impression that environment had not been particularly enlightened or tolerant. Throwing in Rick's sudden inexplicable interest in the younger Dixon was not a good idea.
It had started slowly. Enough, that at first, Rick had not realized what was going on with himself. It had started before Lori had died. Before they had even left Hershel's farm. Daryl's reaction to the disappearance of Sophia had caught his attention. Guilt over the child's death still weighed heavily in his chest. Daryl had been persistent, damn near unstoppable in his searching. Stubborn, and pigheaded to the point of hurting himself. He had never given up, even when some of the others in their Family had. Even when Rick had begun to lose hope of ever finding her, Daryl refused. On the road, after the loss of the farm, Daryl had selflessly provided food for Carl and a heavily pregnant Lori before providing for anyone else in the group. Making sure everyone else was fed before feeding himself last. Daryl had worked himself into exhaustion to make sure they did not starve, they had enough to drink, they had somewhere clear of Walkers to sleep. He had backed Rick up on everything without a single word of protest from his lips. He had been Rick's rock when Rick had not realized he needed one. They had only survived because of Rick and Daryl's combined leadership. The two had quickly learned to communicate with one another in glances and body language when words were not enough, or just too exhausting to use.
Rick had not been able to look Lori in the eye at that point. Furious with her. Scared for all of them. Disgusted with the entire situation involving Shane. While at the same time recognizing that they had truly believed Rick gone. The Hospital had obviously been overrun with the Dead. There should have logically been no way Rick survived, in a coma and utterly helpless. Rick's own actions after that had not helped the problem either. Even now, the coiled, tangled mess lay heavy in the pit of his stomach like a poison he just could not expel. He'd been broken inside from the betrayal and murder of his best friend. Shattered, but unsurprised by the betrayal of his wife. Frustrated and frightened by his lack of ability to protect and provide for her or his starving son. The best thing he could do was to keep them moving, and to kill anything that threatened them along the way as they desperately searched for somewhere safe. Somewhere to start over, or at least, rest and recuperate for a time. Rick had taken to watching Daryl when he could back then. Grateful to the man for every mouthful of food he brought back to the group, and trying to learn anything he could as fast as he could that would keep them all alive.
Losing Lori after they had found the Prison had done something to him inside he couldn't explain. Rick knew logically that he'd had a psychological break. Hallucinating about dead people was just not a sane thing to do. Even then, with Carl turning away from Rick in hurt and anger. With Judith newborn and always demanding. Daryl had stepped up to the plate and shouldered the burden of their survival when Rick could not.
It had taken time for Rick to come back to himself. Daryl had made sure that Rick had the time and space to do so as safely as realistically possible. For a time, Rick had not been able to stomach the sight of Judith. Despite what others in the group had previously thought, Rick had been aware of the affair between Lori and Shane almost from the first day of his arrival at the quarry. He knew both of them well enough, after so many years, to know something was off from the first day. It hadn't taken long to follow to a correct conclusion. Lori and Rick had been fighting like cats and dogs before his coma, with Rick filling Shane's ear with their woes the entire time. Rick only had vague memories of when he was shot, but he still remembered clearly enough Shane's odd disinterest in Rick's troubles with Lori. Rick had not known what to make of it at the time. But looking back after everything else that has occurred since then, Rick was fairly confident the affair between them had begun sometime then. Perhaps not the physical part of it, but the mental withdraw by the two of them. The emotional affair had started then.
Sometimes when Rick looked at Judith, and all he could see was the accumulative result of all his recent failures. All of the personal betrayals. He could not stand being near her. Could not acknowledge her with such hateful rage boiling in his gut. From one moment to the next he was unsure how to react to her. Glad she was alive, because something of Lori, of Shane, was still surviving in this desolate world. Unable to deal with her arrival at all for the same reasons. Daryl had somehow picked up on Rick's violent inner turmoil concerning her and silently made sure she was somewhere else most of the time. Rick could hear her from time to time, knew she was safe and cared for. But she wasn't his burden to bear at that time.
Rick's emotions towards his daughter were still a jumbled confused mess, even with his recovered sanity. He looked into her face and saw Lori, saw Shane. Saw two people he both loved and hated staring back at him. She was helpless, oblivious to the dangerous world around her, and dependent on them for her safety and well-being. Watching her with Daryl from a distance had helped. The hunter had known he was there, Rick was sure of it, but Daryl had never said anything, never looked his direction. As time passed, Rick moved closer, watched her more as she interacted with others within their Family. Seeing her with Carl is what finally settled Rick. Something had clicked, had calmed. He was unable to explain what it was, but the violence had drained out of him. Leaving behind a wound that had been purged of deadly infection. That was the only thing Rick could associate with the feeling that had gone through him at the time. Some days it was still agony having her here, and other times he couldn't hold her close enough. Remembering all the good memories before everything had gone to hell. Before his coma and the Dead walking. Those days were slowly becoming more prevalent over the others. Rick could handle her now. Enjoy her now. Recognize her as a light of hope for all of them.
Regardless of her origins. She drove them all forward. Drove them to continue on, because without her or the other children there was no tomorrow. Things were still rough between himself and Carl, but that too, was slowly mending. Rick knew Carl blamed him for his mother's death, though there had been nothing Rick could have done to stop it. Lori had had a difficult enough time laboring with Carl. Both of them had known her death was a large possibility with no Hospital, no real doctors, no medical care if she bled as heavily as she had with the first pregnancy. But these things were not something Carl would understand, or accept right now. For all his life Carl had been convinced his father could do anything. The boy could not have learned in a worse way that Rick was just as human, as fallible as the rest of them. They were talking some now at least. Thanks to Daryl. The others in the group tell him, now and then, that they would not have survived this far without Rick.
Rick doesn't tell them that he wouldn't have survived without Daryl. He wonders if any of the rest realize this. If anyone besides Rick had bothered to thank the man, verbally, so it couldn't be misunderstood. Rick wondered if even Daryl realized how much Rick had come to depend on him. Somehow, he didn't think so.
Without a word Rick picks up a slim metal pipe when he reaches the fence, silently going to work stabbing the Walkers that have gathered. His lip curls in mild disgust at the wet squelching sound made when he jams the pipe into a Walker's eye socket. They stank to rotting high heaven, making his stomach clench, but he ignored it. They used to gross him out, these bloated, putrid human facsimiles. Now, safely behind a fence, they just annoyed him. They were still disgusting of course, but they did not frighten him. Mentally he keeps rough track of how many they have dropped on this side, and is uneasy when he numbers over twenty in just this area alone. Every day it seemed like larger groups were moving past the Prison, and Rick privately wondered what they would do if a truly large herd were to find them. A monstrous herd like the ones he'd seen in Atlanta. The chainlink would not hold against the weight of that many bodies pressing against it.
As he falls into an all too familiar rhythm, Rick makes a mental note that they would need to start sending out groups of their own people to clear the Walkers around the Prison. The realization made his heart sink. It meant that more people were at risk, but it was the only thing he could think of to do. The Walkers could not pile up like this. The fence eventually coming down because of the weight and pressure was a certainty if they did nothing. Rick takes a deep breath to settle his worry, and instantly regrets it, gagging a little on the foul air. Daryl shoots him a look with a raised eyebrow, silently asking if he was alright. Rick felt an involuntary blush creep over his cheekbones as he gave a sharp nod in return to the concerned inquiry. Daryl's lips twitched in an amused smirk briefly, before he turned back to his task. Thankfully not commenting on Rick's lapse in concentration. Rick manfully ignores the entire incident, or so he tells himself. For the moment Rick pushes his worry away, concentrating on his task. Losing himself in the fluid synchronization of the others with him. Listening to the groans and grunts of the Walkers as they were dispatched until finally there were no more standing near the front gate.
Rick lowers his arms, only now feeling the burn of worked muscle, his breath coming a little short. Glancing quickly over the pile, he counts a final number of over fifty of the Dead. An alarming final number from the twenty he had roughly guessed at before. Behind him, Rick hears the engine of the motorcycle cut off abruptly. Leaving his ears buzzing a bit in the sudden silence. Turning away from the bodies, he drops the pipe down where he picked it up before, wiping the sweat from his forehead on the back of his arm. Putting enough force behind those jabs to reach the brain took more effort than one would think. He nods to Maggie as she passes him going back to the Prison. Likely to hunt down Glenn if she could find him and slip away to make like rabbits... again. Rick felt a brief flare of jealousy at the thought, both at her happiness in having someone, and the fact she was getting laid regularly. In fact, it seemed like damned near everyone around him was getting some at least once in awhile. Rick knew he was exaggerating more than a little, but still. He was damned frustrated these days.
Maggie flashes Rick a tired smile but doesn't say anything as she goes. Rick doesn't call her back either, knowing the she was on the early morning watch, and the shift should have ended hours ago. Instead, she had stayed up to help get rid of the Walkers. Rick simply returns her smile, and catches Daryl crossing his arms from the corner of his eye, leaning back against the bike. Rick turns his head the rest of the way, but the hunter isn't looking at him, even though Rick could have sworn he had been just a half second ago. Instead, he is watching Michonne as she and Tyreese open the front gate enough to slip outside of its protection. Rick glances at them briefly as they begin dragging the bodies away from the fence into a pile to be burned. Rick wouldn't have considered it before, if he didn't see how hard Daryl was staring at the woman now. A soft huff passed his lips, not enough to be noticeable. Disappointment dumped ice water into his veins. Well then. Daryl was looking too intently at the swordswoman for Rick not to wonder if that was the direction his interest lay. Rick tilted his head as he considered her. He could see the attraction. They were both strong, both survivalists, both determined and driven. They worked well together every time Rick had seen them do so. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, but Rick couldn't deny that they fit well together. Rick turns away, looking instead for his son, needing a distraction.
Carl remains standing on the inside of the fence, but watching the woods to guard the backs of their people against any unexpected Walkers stumbling into the area. Seeing that his son was safe, and absorbed in his task, Rick turns around and moves away from the fence. He takes a moment to walk up to where Daryl was leaning against the side of the bike.
The hunter doesn't speak as Rick comes to stand beside him, merely acknowledging him with a glance of his blue eyes. Eyes that sweep over Rick's form, checking for injuries or bites before moving back to the fence, watching the woods like Carl was. Briefly, Rick wishes Daryl would look at him with something more in his eyes. Even if the other man was never publicly demonstrative, a little bit of heat in his gaze in Rick's direction would have been nice. Rick sure as hell didn't expect roses and chocolates from the hunter. That just wasn't his way to begin with, and Rick would find it awkward and weird anyhow.
For several minutes, there is nothing but comfortable silence between them as they watch over their people. Tyreese and Michonne make a fast and efficient team. Tyreese with his strength is able to move two bodies at once with ease, while Michonne was fast on her feet, and even faster with her katana. Between the two of them, and trusting in their watchers to protect them as they dealt with the bodies, it's not long before bodies are burning, and they can step back to simply watch the fire. Making sure it does not get out of control. All of them have had enough practice at this that it no longer took them very long to clear out the remains.
It's as Rick is watching the rising flames that Daryl's soft southern drawl catches his attention. Causing Rick to shift his gaze to the man beside him, and goosebumps to break out over his skin. Rick ignores his physical reaction as best he can, and hopes Daryl doesn't notice. "Hershel mentioned to me this morning that we are running low on medical supplies, and Carol said we need to think about restocking on canned goods as well. We're running out faster than we counted for after bringing in the Woodbury people. The supplies they brought with them helped, but we need to organize a larger run than what we have been doing so far. Need to try further out."
Rick rubs a work rough hand over his mouth with a soft sigh, nodding his head in acceptance, blue eyes distant as he considered the communities around the Prison. His other hand drops to rest absently on his belt buckle. Daryl's eyes follow the hand down, resting on the buckle briefly before his eyes swiftly dart up to Rick's face, then turn to look at the trees. Rick doesn't notice, his thoughts are completely somewhere else. "You have any ideas as to where? You know the area around the Prison better than most. You hunt in these woods constantly. We've hit the towns closest to us pretty hard. I don't think there is much left to be found there."
Daryl nods his head slowly, a little hesitant as his mind turned over a couple of possibilities. He feels Rick's eyes on him again. He always feels when they are on him, and lately, they seemed to be on him a lot. He chooses not to acknowledge the other's gaze right that second. "There's a small town west of here. I've driven through it once or twice. You know, before all this."
Rick makes a small humming noise. Daryl shifts his eyes back over to Rick, taking his gaze off the treeline as he continues. Growing more confident as he spoke, that this was the best choice for a run. "It's not a big place. It's a few days out from here, roughly. Would need to take one of the cars to load up. But I don't think it's been hit. It's the kind of place you have to get lost to find, you know?"
Rick just gives him a little smile. He had no issue going pretty much wherever Daryl wanted to go. Rick just wanted to keep Daryl talking for a few minutes longer. But when Daryl stays quiet, just looking Rick in the eyes and waiting, Rick relents. "If that is where you think would be best then I trust your judgement. Is it on any of the maps we have?"
Daryl shakes his head in the negative. "Naw, don't think so. Like I said not a big place, isolated."
Rick turns his attention back to the fire. "Well, then you'll have to be one of the people going, since you know where it is. I think I might go."
He glances at Daryl from the corner of his eye, finding the other man looking at him thoughtfully for a moment before turning his gaze away. Not saying anything in response to Rick's sudden desire to leave the safety behind the walls of the Prison. "Get out of these walls for a little bit. We'll double check all of this with the council of course…" He trails off for a breath, catching Daryl absently lifting his thumb to chew on, and wonders what had prompted the nervous tick in the hunter.
He sees Daryl nod, and continues. "But I don't think they're going to say no. Have to get a list from Hershel on what he'd like us to look for. See if anyone else needs anything aside from food. Blankets, clothes, soap, personal stuff for the women." Daryl just hums softly in agreement, both of them falling into comfortable silence again as they watch the fire.
It was a couple of hours, before the flames were low enough to just leave one person to keep an eye on them. Tyreese and Michonne had long gone, as well as Carl, Rick's son having grown bored and wandered off to find something else to do. Daryl and Rick remained where they were, speaking rarely as they kept an eye on the fire. It may have seemed odd to an outside observer, but both men were comfortable with the arrangement. It gave them the excuse to relax while still doing something that needed to be done, and even though they were quiet, often time their body language spoke for them.
Rick carefully leaned against the back of the bike, his head tilting a little, asking, 'Is this okay?' Daryl just nodded, unfolding his crossed arms and instead leaning back on them a little bit, using the leather seat. His body said, 'Yea, it's fine.' Rick smiled a tiny bit and they both went still for a little while. Then Rick shifted a little bit closer, silently asking if Daryl minded. Daryl glances at the slight gap between their bodies and goes back to watching the fire, body language stating he did not care. Eventually, through slight shifts of movement, little ticks of silent dialogue, the two of them touched shoulder to shoulder and finally settled.
Little things like this, passed back and forth between them, weaved a tapestry of fluent conversation. To an observer, even a keen one, there wasn't much to see. But to the both Rick and Daryl, this was sometimes when they communicated best. Finally, the fire burned low enough to be doused and walked away from.
The two men went their separate ways to complete their normal daily tasks in what was left of the daylight. Daryl went into the Prison to check in with Carol about their meat situation, and then headed out with his crossbow to check the game traps he had set in the surrounding woods. Rick watched him go discreetly. There was no one else around, so the former officer indulged himself. Letting his eyes slide up and down Daryl's retreating back without shame. The low simmer that always seems to be in his bloodstream these days flared to life once again. For a few moments, he let it run unfettered, enjoying the carnal rush. Even as it made his jeans definitely uncomfortable. Absently he shifted in a futile attempt to adjust himself. He sighed under his breath in appreciation as he watched Daryl slip through the side fence, and melt like a shadow into the woods.
Rick waited a few minutes more before straightening up from where he was leaning on the bike. Placing his hands on the handles, he knocked the kick stand and carefully rolled the heavy machine over to where Daryl usually kept it covered when not in use. Rick frowned as he did so, wondering why Daryl had left it just sitting in front of the gate with him in the first place as if the man had completely forgotten about it. That couldn't be right though, Daryl was as protective of this motorcycle as he was of his crossbow. It perplexed Rick, causing him to narrow his blue eyes at the piece of machinery as though it had personally offended him. The only conclusion Rick could draw, though, was that Daryl's mind had to have been on something else, something major, for him to have forgotten about such a thing. Rick resolved to keep a closer eye on the hunter, and turned away to find something useful to do.
The forest was kind to their traps today, supplying several rabbits and birds to their pantry. Along the way, Daryl spotted a few patches of mushrooms and wild berries that he would come back for once he gathered a container for them. He hadn't thought to grab one before he left, distracted by his thoughts. Luckily he was in the forest, and that alway pushed everything else from his mind. The forest was as dangerous as it was peaceful. As easily as it would protect and provide for you, one misstep, one careless inattention to detail could easily harm or kill. Walkers were constantly there, but aside from the Dead there were still a few natural predators around. All just as hungry as the humans were, and some willing to kill anything, if it meant food. Other things looked innocent, but were poisonous, such as picking the wrong mushrooms, berries or herbs. Every time Daryl entered the forest he gave it his full concentration and respect. Nature was impartial, and would kill you if you were unlucky, or stupid. Today though, everything goes smoothly. There are no Walkers in his path, attracted by the scent of fresh meat. Overall they would have a decent dinner for a few days combining this recent catch with the deer Daryl had shot the day before. It would have been icing on the cake to spot another one while he was doing his rounds, but the Walkers had scared away any big game in the immediate area around the Prison.
Rick, meanwhile, returned to the vegetable patch he had been working on the previous day for several hours. There was always work to be found there, between watering, weeding and tilling more ground for more lines of vegetables as soon as Rick could make them ready, and plant. Hershel said the soil was promising, but breaking the ground and setting it up properly for planting was hard exhausting work his body was unused to. Leaving his body aching with protest by the time he was done. The hard manual work had its benefits however, in several ways. It toned and sculpted his body into useful muscle, rather than the muscle gained from working out in a gym. There was hardly an ounce of body fat anywhere on Rick's body any more. Between their careful food rationing, previous starvation, and constant motion during the day with running and maintaining their home, Rick had somehow acquired a physique other men would have silently envied in the old world.
Truthfully Rick had not noticed it at first. He was used to seeing his body every day when he changed, or bathed, but there was always something else that had his attention. It wasn't until he noticed the lingering attention of various Woodbury women that he caught a clue. Even then, it had taken Carol blatantly spelling it out to him, for Rick to take any of the overly long glances seriously. He hadn't known how to respond to the sudden attention, which Carol and the other women of his group seemed to find hilarious. Rick did not find it funny. He found it uncomfortable. He didn't know these women, didn't trust these women as of yet. He wasn't interested. Regardless of his dick's protest of the matter. His dick had questionable taste anyway, as far as Rick was concerned. It had been more than willing to lead him astray with Lori after all, and even had a fleeting interest in Shane many, many years ago. That had lasted all of a week before it had abruptly lost any and all interest in the man. Thank God. Rick thought to himself, a soft shudder of revulsion accompanying the thought.
Working the garden also gave Rick a way to work out his aggression, and gave him time to think in peace, usually without interruptions. Hershel, or one of his girls would come by from time to time, but those visits were peaceful, and never bothered Rick. Carl would come by sometimes, more often as of late, and Rick would try to teach him things. Those conversations were often tense, but the tension was easing as time passed. Carl was starting to talk to Rick in a more normal fashion.
And then there were times like these, where Rick tried to focus his burning lust into a useful source of energy. It worked more often than not. By the time he was normally done, he was too damned tired to seriously entertain the idea of jacking off, nevermind sex. So Rick threw himself into his current task, determined to wear himself out enough to pass out in his bunk without dreams. That was the best sleep, no nightmares. Rick pushed himself hard for several more hours, missing Daryl's return to the Prison.
Finished with the tilling, Rick went to see to the wild sow that had recently birthed little piglets. Daryl's gem of an idea. Rick had no earthly idea how the man had done it. But one day the hunter had walked out of the woods with a screaming squealing pig that was partly feral. A pregnant sow he insisted be kept, instead of butchered. The piglets would be more meat for the future if raised. The memory made Rick smile, picturing Daryl covered nearly head to toe in mud, looking disgruntled as hell. The pig had been just as muddy, and Rick had asked him if the hunter had to dive into a pond after it. The look Daryl had given him in return could have scorched paint off the wall, but it had been worth it. Because under that scathing look, Rick could see that Daryl was trying not to grin like an idiot. Whether it was from the rush of chasing the animal down, or simply Daryl proud of himself for all of it in the first place, Rick didn't know. What he did know was that Daryl's eyes had glowed all night long, and made it impossible for Rick to even think about sleep.
Rick knew nothing about farm animals of any kind. But Hershel and his two girls had jumped all over the idea when Daryl had presented it. Excited and chattering up a storm to anyone who would listen about the long-term benefits of such an arrangement. Not that anyone needed much persuading to agree. The sow had been locked in a cell until a sturdy pen had been built for her. With everyone pitching in to help, it had only taken a few days to complete. Most of that time was spent finding the materials they needed. Building the secure pen itself had taken only an afternoon, with Hershel doing the final look over to be sure the sow could not dig or bust her way out of it.
A small grin tugged Rick's lips as he recalled the fun Daryl had trying to catch the mean sonofabitch to move to the pen. The hunter had sworn and cursed a blue streak a mile wide. Vulgar enough to make a sailor blush as he chased the animal around the cell, finally pinning it down long enough to get a burlap sack over the animal. Hell if Rick knew where the sack had come from. Watching the spectacle had been worth the foul mood Daryl had been in for hours afterward. Though, that might have also been because Rick was supposed to have been helping him, but was too busy laughing. Daryl, even when his mood had cleared up, had given Rick the stink eye for a week afterwards each time the sow was mentioned. Which was a lot, with everyone still so excited about it. The pantry had been more full than usual that week, with Daryl escaping into the forest to avoid more pig talk.
Rick stopped outside the pen, peering inside to see the sow and six piglets sleeping peacefully. He glanced over to the wooden trough and noded in contentment. It was good to see that Carl had remembered without Rick needing to say something. Seeing the pigs had been fed and watered by Carl, Rick turned his attention to other tasks that needed to be done. Ending up spending the rest of the afternoon helping Glenn shore up some of the fencings on the back side of the Prison. An ongoing project that the group had been working on since they had settled here. The plan was simply to reinforce the weaker spots on the fence, and so far, this back part has been the worst. It was still holding Walkers back well enough, but the chainlink needed to be replaced, and they had yet to find what they needed to do so nearby.
Neither Rick or Daryl saw the other again before the evening meal, which turned out to be a thick stew with vegetables and some game animal Rick couldn't identify. Most likely, there was more than one in the pot; Rick chose not to think about it too hard. Regardless, it was food, it was filling, and not to bad tasting. Rick made sure to thank Carol and the two younger girls from Woodbury that had been helping her in the kitchen that day. Afterwards, once everyone Rick needed to speak to had eaten, he went around and requested an informal council meeting for a little later in the evening. When the council gathered and settled, Rick calmly brought up Daryl's mention of a needed supply run. Getting agreement had been as easy as Rick anticipated. Daryl, Rick and a Woodbury man by the name of Alex, who was suggested by Hershel, would prepare to go first thing the next morning. Alex was not someone Rick was familiar with, but Daryl seemed to know who Hershel was referring to, because he nodded and agreed without any fuss. So trusting Daryl, Rick didn't bother to question the placement of an unknown Woodbury man on their run. Hershel and Carol both handed over a list of food and medicines to look for. Glenn promised to speak with Maggie and have her put together another list of personal items the women needed. It would be turned over to Rick or Daryl by morning at the latest.
With the run confirmed, maps were pulled out and consulted. Daryl was able to point out a general location of the small town he had in mind. Like the hunter had said before, it was not listed on the map, but he was able to reassure everyone by giving them a rough location to look if something went terribly wrong. There were a few visible back roads, but the rest were not shown on the map. It made the council a little concerned, but Daryl promised them he knew exactly where it was and how to get in and out. Barring a massive herd of Walkers coming from all directions, there were multiple ways to quietly exit the small town and regroup. After discussing the general layout that Daryl remembered, and hashing out a couple of tentative backup plans, the other council members relaxed.
The town, named Cypress Creek, was roughly three days out into the deep woods and back roads. Taking into account a single night to rest in town if they could, it would take another three days to get back. All the way around a seven day trip if everything went well and they had no major problems. It wasn't so much that the town was a far distance, because it wasn't, but it was safer for cars to move slowly on uncertain roads, and Daryl had admitted that even when he had passed through the town a few years before, the back roads had been rough and ill cared for. Who knew what state they were in now. The seven-day timeline was generous, and meant to give them travel time and wiggle room before people panicked and came looking for them.
When Rick casually asked about Alex, he was informed by Hershel that the Woodbury man had been helping quite a bit around the Prison, but had spent a lot of time with Hershel learning what he could about veterinary work. Alex apparently had been in medical school before the world had gone to hell, and was looking to find a way to help in that area if he could. Alex would be able to help them recognize anything in the pharmacy that would be useful, but was not already on the list provided by Hershel. Daryl confidently reassured Rick that he was also experienced in handling himself around Walkers. Rick let it go after that, Daryl would not given anyone praise if they did not deserve it. Rick could trust this Alex to watch his back if it was needed. The group going was small, but that meant they would get in and out faster and more likely to be unnoticed by other people. With the meeting settled, the council broke up, its members returning to their own activities. Hershel wandering off to find Alex and speak with him about the planned run in the morning. Rick lingered with Daryl for a few minutes longer, thinking up a few questions about Cypress Creek to prolong the conversation. Daryl answered them willingly enough, but the conversation soon dried up, and Rick could think of nothing else to say.
They separated after that, Rick to spend some time with Judith and Carl before sleep. Daryl pulling aside Glenn to check over the car they would be taking on the run in the morning. Glenn gave Daryl an odd look, asking him why this couldn't wait until the morning. Daryl didn't answer, just insisted he wanted to check on it now. Shrugging his shoulders in indifference the asian shoots Maggie an apologetic look and heads outside without further protest. There wasn't much they could do in the darkness, but they grabbed a couple of flashlights and went to do a basic check over anyway.
Before bed each man double checked their weapons and the personal supplies they would be carrying. Making sure they had emergency rations and water. Each knife was sharpened, bow and arrows checked, and guns cleaned. Both went to bed early so they could be up before the sun rose and out the gate with the morning light. The sooner they were on the road, the sooner they would be safely returning to their Family.
End chp 1.