Set directly after Killer Inside. Rick is a mess and Daryl is the only one who seems to give a damn.
*~Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing what-so-ever.
Rick felt the tears burn his eyes and he let them fall, didn't care if everyone was watching. Didn't care that his voice sounded like a wounded animal. Hell, that's what he was wasn't he? Lori was gone. She was really gone. His legs moved on their own, taking him in distressed little circles. He'd forgotten how to speak, couldn't ask God 'why'. All his lips would form was 'no', like if he said it enough times it'd be true, he'd have his Lori back. But he wouldn't, would he? She'd never come back, not even as the undead. She'd never see the baby, never watch Carl grow, she'd never get to see Halies Commet again like she wanted too, never smile again, or laugh, or...
He screamed for the agony in his chest, clutching at the fabric of his shirt. He felt the concrete rush up under him, his strength giving out and landing him on the ground. He was breaking, not just his heart, but all of him. He felt like he was going to shatter... splinter apart... disappear into himself like a black hole. But just as he felt the cracks start to spider through his being, something wrapped around him. Something warm and firm that held him together, kept the peices of him from flying apart. He fought a little at first, but the fight in him was too overpowered by hurt and sorrow. So he let himself be taken in by the set of burly arms and held to a flannel clad chest.
"Daryl..." He choked, gripping a thick biecep and hiding his face against the pads of the mans pecs. "She's gone. S-she's dead... My Lori's gone..."
"I'm so sorry, my brother." Daryls haunting blue eyes were soft, his voice that deep purr he used to talk to dieing animals with. "I'd bare it for ya if I could... Give anything if I could take the hurt away..."
Rick sobbed harder and held onto the hunter, using him as an anchor. He listened to the strong beat of Daryls heart, letting it fill his head and drown him from the inside out. Just a minute, he'd let it all go for just a minute. He'd let himself drop his composure, Daryl would watch over him, pull him back to himself if he got lost in the darkness. Daryl would be strong for him.
He didn't know how long he cried, too lost in the mans arms and his own pain to keep track of time. But when he finally took his first deep breath since he'd broken down, the flannel shirt was soaked through to the hunters skin and his bones groaned in protest from holding the same position too long. He squeezed Daryls arm and got up. He glanced at the man and found himself unable to hold those eerie blue eyes. The crystal depths suddenly too understanding, too knowing, too... God, to pure to belong in this world. Eyes like that shouldn't belong to someone whose seen and done what Daryl has.
That night, after Daryl dragged all the bodies from their cell block, Rick sat against the wall. His mind was still reeling and every so often he'd start crying again. Nobody spoke to him. No one told him it would be okay. They wouldn't even speak her name. And the heavyness of it all was eating him alive.
It wasn't until the first lights of dawn broke the sky that he couldn't handel sitting there anymore. He wouldn't sleep, didn't want to dream of Lori. Hell, even if he did want to sleep he doubted he could. So he paced the length of the cell block like a caged animal. It took him a while to feel the tingling, the burning on the back of his neck that raised the hair on his arms. The feeling of eyes tracking him. He turned around, knowing exactly where to look.
And his breath stopped.
Moonlight that came through the barred windows fell across Daryl, spotlighting his shirtless body in a pale blue glow. His unblinking eyes caught the rays, the mixing pigments causing them to seem an unearthly white. The reflecting metal railings of 'The Perch' sent curving lines back at the man, one seeming to wrap around the crown of his head. And damn him if he was imagining the way shadows fell and shifted to look like wings extending from behind Daryls bare shoulders.
"You should sleep, Rick."
The former cop had to shake his head to clear it. "I can't. I... I just can't. How could I? What if I dream of her?"
Daryl shook his head, bangs falling in whisps over his forhead. "Then dream. Don't forget her, Rick. Don't forget the way she smiled, don't forget the sound of her laugh, or her touch. Keep her memory alive, cause she's still with you. She's in your heart, she lives in your kids, don't let that part of her die too, Rick."
Rick felt hot tears run down his face as he stared wide eyed at the man. That was what he'd been waiting to hear. For someone to tell him everything wasn't lost, that it was okay to miss her. And in this moment, as they stared at each other, Rick took the man for what he was: a mirical, and angel given to them in a faithless world. Heaven-sent.
AU/Note: Well... Okay I'm not going to lie, I fell asleep twice while writing this at two in the morning. So it's not long and maybe a little mashed together, but I tried damn it. R&R and all that and happy zombie killing.