AUTHOR'S NOTE: In 3x15, "This Sorrowful Life," just before Daryl went after Merle and Michonne, he told Rick, "You're family, too." Rick just stared at him, speechless. There really should have been a little more about that exchange, and this is my attempt at it. It should go without saying, but I'll say it anyway: I own nothing connected with The Walking Dead, except my fantasies. If Robert Kirkman, Frank Darabont, Gale Ann Hurd, or any of the others involved with The Walking Dead want anything of this, I hereby give it to them, with humble thanks.
TWD - TWD - TWD - TWD - TWD
In the aftermath of getting the surviving people from Woodbury settled into spots in the prison - a lot less comfortable than where they'd been, but safer - Rick Grimes cast a glance over his own people. It was probably uncharitable of him, but there would always be a difference between people he considered his and others. Some of the Woodbury folk might become his, in time, but right now they were just another logistical problem.
First he checked on Judith. She slept peacefully in the crib Carl had brought back, and Carl glanced up from where he sprawled on the bunk with - a comic book?
"She's fine," Carl said softly.
"Where'd you get that?" Rick asked, equally quietly.
"One of the Woodbury kids. I loaned her one of mine."
"Don't use too much of the batteries."
"I won't."
Rick nodded and moved on. Carol's cell was next, and she appeared to be sleeping. Rick had turned toward the next cell when he heard a muffled sound that had him moving quietly into the cell to kneel by Carol's bunk where she lay facing the wall, her back to him.
"Carol?" he asked. "You okay?"
She sniffled, but didn't turn to face him. "'m fine."
Rick shifted his weight more comfortably. "No offense, but if you're crying, I think you might not be fine."
"I am, really." And now she did turn over, and even in the dimness of the cells, Rick could see tears shining in her eyes. "Daryl had to kill Merle."
Rick knew that. "Merle turned."
"Still - Merle was his brother. It can't have been easy."
"He talk to you about it?"
Carol gave a quiet, watery laugh. "It's Daryl. What do you think?"
Rick couldn't help his own grin. "Right." He paused a moment, then, "I'll check on him."
"Thanks."
Rick squeezed her shoulder, then rose and continued his rounds. Hershel and Beth sat quietly reading the Bible Hershel had found, and he passed them with just a nod, unwilling to interrupt.
Glenn and Maggie - well, he knew what those sounds coming from behind the curtain hung across their cell door were. Rick left them to each other and glanced up to the perch Daryl had claimed.
Empty, as Rick had known it would be.
He passed out of the block, into the prison yard. The "governor" might have destroyed the guard towers, but Daryl would still keep watch. Rick paused and scanned the area, finally picking out the shadow that was Daryl perched atop a prison bus that had been tipped onto its side.
Easy strides took him to the bus, and he adjusted the rifle he carried so he could climb the undercarriage. Daryl hadn't offered him a hand up, hadn't even moved though he must've heard Rick's approach. Rick stepped carefully along the bus, keeping his steps as soft as possible so they wouldn't echo in the night, then sat down beside Daryl, bringing his rifle to rest across his knees.
Daryl glanced up and in the light from the half-moon overhead, Rick could see that the other man's face was etched in grim lines, but even in the depths of his private grief, Daryl would still put the needs of the group first.
"Everybody's fine," Rick said in answer to the unspoken question.
Daryl nodded once, then went back to contemplating the night.
Rick let the silence linger - never uncomfortable with Daryl, no matter what might happen - and the words Daryl had said before going after Merle and Michonne came back to him.
"You're family, too," he'd said, and then the door closed behind him while Rick stood there, wordlessly staring after him.
Rick couldn't imagine what it had taken to get Daryl to say that out loud, but he could imagine that his reaction hadn't been what Daryl had expected. Then again, maybe Daryl hadn't expected anything. Even after all this time, all the hell they'd gone through together, Rick knew he was only partway to understanding the enigma that was Daryl Dixon.
Rick suspected he could spend the rest of his life studying that enigma and end up no closer to understanding it than he was now.
When Daryl shifted his weight some indeterminate time later, Rick cleared his throat. "I'm sorry about Merle."
He felt more than saw Daryl's surprise at his words, but there was no mistaking the snort that followed. "You didn't even like 'im."
"No, I did not," Rick acknowledged. No sense hiding what was just a simple truth. "But I like you - I respect you - and you're hurting. I'm sorry for that."
Daryl was silent so long Rick started to think he'd misjudged the other man's reaction. Then, "Thanks. But you've been there."
"Shane wasn't my brother," Rick said.
"Close enough to. Or didn't you mean it when you called him your brother outside Hershel's barn?"
"I did." Another truth that couldn't - shouldn't - be denied. "I thought he was, before."
Daryl grunted, and Rick took it as a sign to continue.
"Before, I knew him. A little rough around the edges, still a bit of a wild child - but solid. Dependable. Someone I could rely on. Then the world went to hell." Rick stared up at the half-moon for a moment. "It was a crucible, tempering each of us until only the purest forms of ourselves remained." Rick blew out a breath and spoke the truth he'd waited too long to recognize. "Some of us rose to the challenge, and some of us …"
"Didn't," Daryl finished.
"Yeah."
"Merle rose to it." Daryl's tone was firm. "There at the end, he did."
"He did." Rick had to acknowledge that. If what Michonne had told him was true, Merle had gone a long way toward redeeming himself with his final actions. Rick just wished the result hadn't been so grim.
"I knew he was an asshole," Daryl said. Rick tried to contain his surprise at that statement. Daryl didn't even look at him as he continued, "He wasn't as bad as our old man, but he was an asshole. But he was still my brother."
"I'm sorry I made you choose between him and us."
"You hadda do it. The others -" Daryl broke off, unable to continue.
"Wouldn't understand," Rick finished.
"Don't understand," Daryl corrected firmly, and it was Rick's turn to glance inquiringly at his friend.
Daryl shrugged. "Glenn's never gonna forgive 'im for what happened with Maggie. Even though she weren't hurt."
"That's what love's about," Rick said. "Caring for someone else more than you do yourself. I can't say I'd feel any different if it'd been Lori instead of Maggie."
"Even after what happened with Shane?"
"Even after." Rick blew out a breath, scanning the grounds around them for signs of walker activity. "I did love her, once. Before all this."
"Now?" Daryl asked, and Rick pondered the question.
"Maybe I still do," he said finally, "if only because she gave me Carl and Judith." He paused again, and then said, "I'd've taken the thing that was Merle down for you if I could."
"Naw," Daryl said. "It was me. It should'a been me. It should'a been someone who gave a damn about him."
"No reason you should do all the heavy lifting." Rick gave Daryl's own words back to him, and was rewarded by a snort that might have been a laugh.
"What you said, before you went after them."
Daryl looked at him, suddenly wary. "Yeah?"
"Goes for me, too. You're family."
Daryl met his gaze, and Rick held it until the other man looked away. "Thanks. Means … a lot."
"You gon' stay up here all night, or you gonna let me take watch for a while?"
"I'll watch a while longer." Daryl hesitated, so briefly Rick almost missed it. "But you c'n stay, if you want."
"I'll do that."