Daryl!
Sleeping in his cell, piercing pain split Daryl's head, but he instantly tied up his boots and ran to Rick's desperate call, putting every ounce of energy into his sprint from the cell block and across the prison yard. The other man stood outside the fences, surrounded by walkers. Though Rick slashed his knife, kicking and shoving, he was outnumbered.
Like one possessed, Daryl opened the fence and joined the fray, blood coating his wrists and forearms as he stabbed walker after walker to reach Rick. Finally he did, and as they immediately pressed back to back, the small herd surrounding Rick quickly dropped dead to the ground.
Later, "How did you know I needed help?"
Noncommittal, "Just did."
Rick nodded, "You're a beast."
And he was. Daryl knew it. And though he fought it, he knew he'd been molded from birth for this world. And hated that with every fiber of his being.
...
Rick watched Daryl through heavily-hooded eyes. Sometimes, the hunter was a total mystery to Rick, and even though he could care less about most people's secrets, Daryl was different. How did the man always know when Rick was in trouble?
Sure, Rick had saved Daryl on multiple occasions, but Daryl was always there, at Rick's back. It was like an instinct. No one in Rick's life had ever been so in tune with him.
It's almost like he can read my mind, Rick thought, and not for the first time. This suspicion had been with Rick for over a year in the other man's company. Daryl was across the dining area, in an one-sided conversation with Carol. Rick saw Daryl nod a few times, but mainly he listened to Carol.
Early that morning, when Rick had gotten caught by a small herd of walkers, he knew he hadn't called out loud for Daryl, but he'd been screaming the other man's name in his mind. And then Daryl was there.
Can Daryl read my mind? He smiled at his own whimsy, watching as Daryl stretched his arms above his head. The impressive muscles bunched and drew Rick's eyes. He'd never been attracted to another man, but Daryl Dixon was the exception. He'd never act on it, mainly because Daryl would probably beat the shit out of him, but also because he couldn't lose Daryl, not over some weird urges. But his curiosity drove him nuts, and every day it became a bit harder not to just grab Daryl and press up against that gorgeous frame. Sometimes when he caught the other man staring, Rick wondered if Daryl also felt the pull, but other times Rick was convinced it was just his imagination that Daryl might want him, too.
Mind reader, huh? Rick's forehead wrinkled in concentration, and he yelled in his mind, YOU'RE THE SEXIEST MAN I'VE EVER KNOWN.
When Daryl's eyes instantly flicked to Rick's, a shiver went down his spine. Then Daryl quirked an eyebrow, and Rick laughed at himself, and went to bed.
...
Daryl loved everything about Rick, but his particular guilty pleasure was watching the other man walk. That walk had distracted him many a time, and now he let it soothe the fried circuits of his mind.
YOU'RE THE SEXIEST MAN I'VE EVER KNOWN!
Had Rick really just shouted that at him? What the hell? Had he figured it out?
"Daryl, are you listening?" Carol asked, and as he drug his eyes from Rick and turned to her knowing gaze, he nodded, but his mind echoed with Rick's shout.
"One day you two are going to realize how you feel about each other."
That got his attention and he shook his head adamantly as Carol leaned close and whispered, "Yes, everyone here already knows, even Carl, we're just waiting on you two to figure it out."
"Whatever. Got watch," he dismissed her, and off he went, the press of her eyes tight on his back.
Even if Rick were into him in that way, which he wasn't, Rick only thought he was, Daryl would never cross that line. Rick deserved so much better than he'd ever be able to give. His life's goal was now to protect and provide for the group, especially Rick, and if that meant protecting Rick from himself, then so be it.
He'd fallen in love with Rick so fast, almost instantly. In Atlanta after they'd found Merle's hand, when Rick's thoughts had broken through his barriers, when he'd been about to take off through the city searching for Merle, and Calm him down, he's a bit wild, but I like him, had resounded so clearly in Daryl's head straight from Rick's mind. That's when he'd known.
And he had calmed, instantly, "I can do that."
His momma had warned him, as often as she was sober, to fall in love with a good woman. She's spent hours when he was a boy, teaching him how to block the thoughts of others, the crazy press of a thousand random thoughts that filtered though and threatened to rip his young mind to shreds.
His momma had loved his daddy, but once the old man realized she could read his mind, his daddy had snapped, beating her anytime she so much as hinted that she knew what he was thinking.
"Be careful who you give your heart to," his momma's voice whispered in his memory.
Daryl didn't remember if his dad had ever beaten him before he overheard Daryl's momma instructing Daryl on how to block his thoughts, but the beatings came often after that. What his daddy didn't understand was that his and Merle's thoughts were the ones Daryl blocked the hardest.
There was no worry Daryl would fall in love since he stayed away from women entirely. How could he have known a ZA would happen, he'd meet a sheriff's deputy, and fall in love with another man?
...
Rick laid in his bunk, staring at nothing. Earlier, when he'd shouted in his mind and Daryl had appeared to hear him, he'd shaken away the thought, but now he wondered again. Hundreds of times the other man had been there, right at Rick's back, the second Rick had needed him the most.
Beyond the constant protection was the friendship. When Lori had died, when the guilt of unsaid words had almost ripped Rick's world apart, Daryl had stepped up, caring for both Judith and Carl, taking over Rick's responsibilities so Rick could grieve. Any guilty thought Rick had about his own selfishness saw his behavior being corrected by Daryl, who always seemed to do what Rick couldn't. When Rick had started farming, and unofficially stepped down as the leader, Daryl always seemed to know exactly what Rick needed. Unlike others who thought Rick should get his shit together, Daryl had urged him to stay behind the prison's fences, urged him to stay safe.
And there was that one time, when Rick had awakened from a horrible nightmare about Lori to find Daryl kneeling by his bunk, stroking the hair back from Rick's forehead. It was somehow so natural to have Daryl there that Rick had grabbed the other man in a hug and sobbed into his neck. After a while of Daryl awkwardly patting his back, Rick had fallen back to sleep. The next morning, Daryl acted like it hadn't happened, so Rick followed suit. But damn the memory of being in Daryl's arms haunted him.
Fuck it, Rick thought, climbing out of his bunk to put on his boots. I'll just fucking ask Daryl.
...
Growing up beside train tracks had given Daryl his earliest block to other people. The constant sound of a train's gears pumping along worked well to keep other's thought from his head. His mother's training kept a constant loop of that thump sound running in the back of his mind. The sound was the first thought he had every morning, and constant background noise throughout his days. But Rick, Rick's thoughts were different, like Daryl had no barriers whatsoever. So Daryl had created a personal block for Rick, a piercing train whistle. Loud and shocking, it much harder to keep constant. In general, Daryl let Rick's thoughts stay whirling in the back of his mind, simple stuff about planting, traps, weeding, safety, manure, the kids. That stuff Daryl could handle, and more so, he loved hearing it. It was only when Rick's thoughts turned to Daryl that he summoned the train whistle. Loud and piercing, the whistle was usually capable of dispersing the other man's thoughts.
Rick will never love you for you, he told himself, staring out of the tower's windows. Rick would hate having his thoughts known, just like Daryl's daddy had hated it. And who wouldn't hate that? Daryl was a realist, and he'd rather feel the longing angst of unrequited love than see the hatred that had formed his father's eyes.
"Once he loved me," his mother's voice whispered in his mind.
Fuck it, Rick thought from inside the cell block, and since Daryl could feel the thought was about him, he blasted a train whistle through his mind. Go to fucking sleep, Rick. Please.
...
Rick climbed the tower steps, he wasn't necessarily trying to be quiet, but as Daryl's eyes met his, he knew he'd snuck up on the other man. Not a mind reader, obviously. Rick felt foolish at the questioning look on Daryl's face.
"Couldn't sleep," Rick finally said a bit awkwardly, "thought you might want some company."
Daryl just grunted, so Rick moved next to him, leaning on the guard rail and staring into the night. The silence between them was weighted, and each struggled to find a topic before finally giving up and just enjoying the companionable silence.
Rick concentrated on Daryl's breaths, the inhale and exhale. There was something so erotic about matching his own breaths to the other man's.
I love you, Daryl Dixon, he thought and watched as a shudder went through Daryl's frame. Rick eyed the other man, tilting his head quizzically, I love you like a fire underneath my skin.
Daryl shoved away from the rail, backing into the tower, "Don't want no company tonight. Go back to bed, Rick."
But never let it be said that Rick Grimes wasn't a beast himself when focused. He followed Daryl into the tower, Can I kiss you? That's all, nothing else. Just a kiss?
...
Daryl turned his back to Rick and grasped his head in his hands. His skull felt like it might split in two, as Rick's thoughts rolled right over the volume of the train whistle.
Rick stood right behind him, close enough to touch, What if I licked that bare patch of skin right there on your neck? I bet you'd taste good Daryl.
"Stop it, Rick."
Kiss me and I'll stop.
Daryl spun to face him and Rick's thoughts went blessedly silent.
...
Rick silenced his mind, not on purpose, but because all of him now thrummed with anticipation, with sheer desire. He'd experimented and now knew the hunter could hear him somehow. Could hear his damn thoughts! It was now up to Daryl, who licked his lips and drew Rick's gaze.
...
The only sound in the tower was the harshness of their breath and the distant moan of walkers at the fence. Daryl wanted to yell at him, scream any hateful thing to get the other man to leave, and he opened his mouth to spew venom, but Rick's eyes were glowing in the moonlight and then he licked his lips, saying aloud, "Please Daryl."
"You don't want me, Rick, I'm damaged, completely fucked up. You'll end up hating me, " Daryl's voice was huskier than usual, and even he could hear the pain in his words.
"It's just a kiss," Rick whispered back, leaning in close, "just a simple kiss."
"No, it's not, Rick, nothing will ever be simple about you," he whispered back, and then Rick's lips touched his and he lost his own train of thought, and for the first time in his life, Daryl heard nothing but silence and Rick's stray thought about how good he thought Daryl tasted.
They both moaned, and their tongues met in a dance as old as time. Hot, wet, and stroking, their tongues intertwined. Daryl's hands buried in Rick's hair as Rick pulled Daryl flush to him, the fronts of their bodies seeming to fit perfectly.
God I love you, Daryl thrummed down Daryl's spine and fear exploded inside him as he shoved Rick away, sending the other man into the tower's wall. Without the quiet perfection of Rick's mind, thoughts from the prison, mainly dream images, saturated his senses and he grabbed his head, pulling at his hair as he fought to find the train's gears.
Rick reached for him, but Daryl slapped his hand away, "Get the fuck away from me, Rick! I mean it. Never touch me again. I don't want you like that."
Rick stood eyeing him for a minute, before slowly nodding his head. He turned to climb down the tower ladder and sent this thought to Daryl, I love you, and when you're ready, you know where to find me.