Growling with anger, he pulled his hand back after hoisting the roll of barbed wire onto the truck to inspect the damage it had done. The barbs on this last roll had ripped a hole into the work glove on his right hand and gauged a deep tear into his palm. Before he had time to take off his glove blood started welling from the jagged cut, and now that the initial shock was wearing off he could feel the fierce sting of the wound as well.
He yanked his glove off with a colorful curse and Tyreese looked at him in surprise. "What's up, Dixon? You've got quite a mouth on you, wonder if Carol appreciates that." He was grinning, and logically, Daryl knew, of course, that he didn't mean any harm by it, but he glared at the bigger man nevertheless. What he had with Carol was not up for joking about.
"Ain't none o' yer damn business, so shut yer trap!" His tone of voice was vicious enough to make Tyreese take a step away from him, but then his eyes fell to Daryl's hand. Spotting the blood, he was instantly concerned for him. Eyeing him warily to make sure it was okay to approach him, he stepped up close and reached out to take Daryl's hand in his. To his complete surprise, Daryl pulled it back as if burned, hissing aggressively.
"Gonna take care of it m'self", Daryl growled. "No need to be motherin' me." Shrugging, Tyreese returned to his task. Looking around for Rick, Daryl whistled through his teeth when he spotted him inside the dimness of the DIY depot with another roll of barbed wire. When Rick looked up, Daryl held up his bleeding hand which had started dripping by now. "Gotta wrap this", he whisper-yelled at his friend. "One of you two's gonna have to look out for a bit until I'm done. I'll be up inside the truck." Rick nodded to show he'd understood.
Still furious with himself for being so careless, Daryl stepped around the tail of the truck, kicking at the tire in frustration, and collided with a walker shuffling up to him without a sound. Its shoes were gone, which was probably a part of the reason why he'd never noticed it coming up. Doubtlessly, his irritation and distraction was another. His right hand flew to his belt, yanking out his buck knife and bringing it up to the walker's jaw in a flurry of movement. He embedded the blade in the squishy head with a grunt of exertion and just about managed to hold on to his knife when the corpse dropped dead a second time.
As soon as the knife was free of the rotting head he switched it to his good hand, making sure that none of the goo that had squirted out of his mindless attacker was anywhere near the gash in his hand. Reassuring himself that no other walkers were in sight anywhere, he returned to the tail end of the truck. "More walkers comin' up, took one of 'em out jus' now. Be careful!" Rick nodded and took another step away from the truck to enlarge his field of vision around its tail end while Ty was already on the way back in to get the additional posts they were going to need to reinforce the outer fences around the prison.
With Michonne's continuing search for the Governor still without results, they were nevertheless certain that they hadn't seen the last of that crazed madman, and the council that was gradually replacing Rick had decided that they needed better defenses for the next time he showed up. Quite apart from the ruined gates through which he'd run his truck containing the weaponized walkers that he'd let loose inside the prison yard, they also wanted stronger fences against the masses of walkers they'd been seeing in ever larger groups over the past few weeks.
Daryl had volunteered at once for the crew getting the supplies necessary for this, and his reasons were obvious to everyone who knew him. He had quite openly been getting closer to Carol over the past few weeks and had stopped going on search runs with Michonne. As they still needed meat he went out three times a week to hunt and to check and set his traps. Apart from that, he was mostly pulling watch and fence duty. But the sheer number of people living at the prison now, with the influx of people from Woodbury, was getting to him big time and these relatively quick runs for building materials in the company of friends provided a great way for him to get away for a short time with minimum risk because he wasn't out there on his own.
Still looking out for walkers, Daryl made his way to the cabin of the truck and got in. Grabbing the first aid kit from under the driver's seat, he quickly rifled through it for the things he'd need, put it back into its place and started working on his hand. He kept looking up from time to time to make sure his friends were still safe out there without him, and as soon as he was done, he grabbed a bottle of warm water from the passenger seat and jumped out of the truck with it.
"How many more?" he quietly asked Rick as he came up on him, holding out the bottle. They were all hot and sweaty and dirty from what by now had to be two hours of heavy lifting, and they had to keep hydrated in the scorching heat. For late autumn, the day was surprisingly hot and they were all looking foward to a well-earned shower back at the prison. The water was, of course, about as unrefreshing as it could get after lying in the truck's heat, but Rick took a long drink before handing it to Tyreese who had just loaded another pole onto the truck.
"Thanks, man", Rick said, wiping his face with a sticky and dirty arm. Daryl immediately looked down at the ground, scuffing his boots against the concrete, uncomfortable as always at the compliment. Rick looked over their load in the truck bed with an appraising eye. "I don't think the truck can take much more, so we should probably call it a day. Setting up what we have is going to take at least two days, I reckon."
"Going back sounds mighty fine to me", Ty grinned, returning the bottle to Daryl who also drank deeply from it. "We'll all be happy to return to our ladies, won't we? Is Michonne even at the prison, or is she out looking for him?" He was addressing his question to Rick, completely overlooking Daryl's stormy face.
"She's supposed to come back sometime today, so she might be back by the time we get there. She's not my lady, though." Rick seemed to squirm slightly, definitely uncomfortable with the question.
"Wow, I guess I got it all wrong then, but she's been bringing shirts for you and comic books for your boy, so I thought ... Didn't mean to presume, no offense meant!" Tyreese seemed truly flustered at Rick's answer and was relieved when Rick assured him that none had been taken. When he turned to get back to the DIY and padlock it again, he was met with Daryl's fierce glare. "Whoa, what's eating you?"
"Stop sayin' shit about Carol", Daryl growled menacingly.
Tyreese's eyes widened. "What? Would you get it together, man? What did I say to insult her?"
"Jus' don't mention her, alright?" Daryl snapped. "This ain't no damn afternoon yak show, and she's not a topic of conversation, got that?"
Tyreese seemed taken aback. "But I thought the two of you -"
Daryl was getting seriously pissed now. "I ain't discussin' her, ya hear me? Nothin' for ya ta think about, if ya know what's good for ya!" His face was about as vicious as Rick had seen it since they'd butted heads over Merle in Atlanta. There could be no doubt at all that Daryl was serious. He would have to step in to keep this scene from getting truly ugly.
"Most everyone seems to think there's something going on between you two -" he began carefully, but Daryl jumped right in, deathly afraid that Rick might mention walking in on them as they embraced that one time after he'd brought Patrick to the prison. It was bad enough that he'd seen that - there was absolutely no need for him to yap about it as well.
"So what? Most everyone's got it wrong. There ain't nothin', yer seein' things."
"Yeah, well, that's what Michonne told me five weeks ago when the two of you came back from your last run together - didn't buy it then and won't buy it now", Tyreese smirked.
"Would y'all stop yapping and get in the truck? I'll tie down our shit and stay with it in back ta make sure nothin' falls off", Daryl snapped with a shooing motion at Tyreese. The bigger man gave him a good-natured laugh and walked around the truck to the passenger door.
"You mind if we stop at that supermarket that Glenn found a week ago to look for formula and some more canned food while we're out here anyway?" Rick asked as he got in behind the wheel, holding his door wide open so Daryl would hear as well. Both of his companions signalled for him to go wherever he pleased, so Rick closed his door, buckled up, and off they went.
.-.
They had cleared the store two days after Glenn had found it, but there was always a chance that others had been here in the meantime and had been careless - or malicious - enough to allow walkers to get in after they'd gotten what they wanted, so they entered the store as if they were clearing it for the very first time. Daryl was walking point, crossbow loaded and up, with Rick covering the aisles to the left and right with his Python and Tyreese facing backwards with his colt, reluctant as always to get into a fight but aware that, in this situation, it couldn't be avoided.
As soon as they'd made sure they had the store to themselves they got a cart and started loading it with formula, canned food, lighters, a few packs of cigarettes that Daryl selected personally to ensure they were not that pussy menthol or low nicotine shit that he didn't like and wanted to avoid for as long as possible, and some other stuff that was always on their standard list for runs.
Once their cart was heaped high enough with their loot so they wouldn't be able to add more to it without throwing off something else or stapling it in place, they made their way toward the exit once again. Rick pushed the cart while Daryl and Tyreese covered him as if they hadn't checked the entire store before starting in on the "shopping" part of their visit. If they were faced with intelligent adversaries instead of walkers, this was the time to attack.
But they made it out of the store unaccosted and unloaded their groceries into the back of their truck, filling the spaces between posts, barbed wire rolls and tools and leaving enough room for Daryl to sit in the back in relative comfort. Still looking out for snipers or cars approaching on the street, they almost didn't notice the small herd closing in on them around a corner as they returned the cart out of sheer habit until it was practically on top of them.
Daryl was closest to them and he yelled at Rick and Tyreese to get out and return for him later. Rick started to argue, but Daryl glared at him, snarling "You've got two kids ta take care of, Grimes!", before taking off yelling and shouting to draw the walkers off and give his two companions the precious minute they needed to get into the truck and drive off.
.-.
She stood at the gate, waiting for the three men to return. These runs to the DIY for building materials were usually considered relatively safe, so she was fine with him joining the supply team assigned to them, but she did want to be there, at the gate, waiting for him, as per their agreement, when he returned. She absently reached for her back pocket from time to time, smiling slightly to herself, as she waited.
Her heart started beating faster when she saw the truck cresting the last hill before the road dipped down toward the prison. The distractors, Sasha and Maggie, started banging a crowbar and a shovel against the outer fence while moving off to the left and right, drawing away the few walkers milling about aimlessly in front of the gate, while Carl and Glenn prepared to open the gates just in time for the truck to get through without any additional unwanted guests.
He always rode in the back with the supplies, but this time she didn't see him either there or in the cabin in front as the truck approached, and her hands and feet turned numb. "No", she whispered, and when the truck was between fences and she saw the pale, anguished faces of the two men sitting in it, she screamed out loud. "NO!"
Tyreese had been driving, and he stopped between the gates in a grisly parody of their ritual so Rick could get out, hug Carl while he was opening the inner gate, and then be the first to enter the prison yard and approach Carol who had collapsed just inside the fence, sobbing openly. Tears ran down his face as he bent down to pick her up off the ground and pull her close.
"He gave us the time to get away", he whispered into her short, curly gray hair. "He told us to come back for him later. I'm sure he got away." She continued to sob, and very briefly he wondered if Lori had ever cried for him like this when Shane had told her that he hadn't made it and had died in that hospital. A sick feeling in his stomach told him that his son might have cried, but his wife surely hadn't grieved like this.
Putting aside these horrible thoughts, inappropriate at a time like this, inappropriate also with Lori dead, he continued to whisper into Carol's hair. "He's the toughest, most resourceful guy I've ever known. If anyone could get out of there, it's him. I'm sure he'll have gotten another pack of cigarettes and will wait for us with a smoke hanging from his mouth just to prove how easy it was and what pussies we are to have worried for him."
"But what if he's not waiting for you?" she whispered back. "I can't watch you come back without him a second time. I just can't!" She had pulled back slightly and was looking up at him earnestly, her blue eyes red with crying already. He didn't want to imagine how she'd react if they did come back without him again after unloading the truck and going back for him.
He watched Tyreese walk up to Sasha after both gates were latched again and hug her tightly, eyes closed. Watched his lips move close to her ear as she hugged him back. Watched her eyes open wide with shock, her head turning to face Carol. Watched her let go of him and walk toward the two of them like a sleepwalker to all but pry the grieving woman from his arms and let her cry into her neck as Carol started sobbing again.
It never occurred to him to wonder how everyone seemed to just know that Carol and Daryl were very much a couple even though Daryl kept vehemently denying it whenever anyone addressed the subject with him. They had all watched these two damaged, broken people warily dance around each other for a long time now, both of them careful not to get too close to avoid getting hurt yet again, until they'd both gained enough confidence in themselves and trust in each other to dare take that final step - admitting what they felt not just to themselves but also to each other.
Rick had felt horrible when he'd caught them embracing on Daryl's perch on the day Daryl had brought Patrick to the prison. Of course he still had no idea that this had actually been their very first hug, but he did know for certain that it had to be one of the first, and breaking it up to call them to the council room in order to discuss and decide Patrick's fate had been one of his more odious tasks in recent times.
He watched Sasha comforting Carol with a heavy heart, wishing that nothing worse had ever befallen Daryl since he'd interrupted them on his perch and that calling them to the council meeting had remained the worst thing he'd had to do.
Turning toward the prison, he watched Carl walk up the gravel pathway leading up to the door of Cellblock C, his head low, his shoulders sagging, probably to tell Judith, who was still too young to understand it, that Daryl, whom she loved so much, would not return to her.
As his eyes followed Carl, they landed on the little pea green car they used for reconnaisance runs - the pea green car that Daryl and Michonne had used in their hunt for the Governor and that Michonne took out alone now that Daryl had stopped going on them.
Michonne was back.
The car was back. The fast, silent and highly maneuverable car.
They didn't need to unload the truck first.
"Carl!" he called out. His son turned back and cocked his head to the left in a questioning posture. "Would you bring me the keys for the car?" He pointed at the small car to make sure Carl understood, then turned back toward Carol and Sasha again, dimly taking note of the fact that Tyreese quietly told Glenn that he'd be right back to help unload the truck after he'd told Karen that he was back safely. Karen? Tyreese?
"Carol", he said almost breathlessly, stepping up to the two women. "Michonne's back, we can take the small car and go look for him right away. You want to come along?" When she just looked at him, still in shock, not following his train of thought, he explained more slowly and in greater detail until she began to nod. Thankfully, he saw Carl already standing at the door to C with Michonne when he turned back to look up again. As one, he and Carol started to walk up the pathway.
.-.
Reluctantly, because he loathed risking yet another life, he'd agreed to Michonne coming along for the ride, mostly because she was a silent and efficient killer who could mow down an entire group of walkers without ever getting noticed by them - much like Daryl. Whenever he thought of their introvert hunter his heart felt like a stone in his chest. Daryl had seemed very sure of himself, but Rick had no idea what to expect as they approached the supermarket and turned into the parking lot.
One advantage of their small car was that its engine was much quieter than that of the truck - which wasn't hard to accomplish, but it was an advantage nevertheless. At least they wouldn't draw any additional walkers to the area as they went looking for Daryl.
His hopes that Daryl would already be waiting for them, leaning against the storefront, smoking, watching lazily as they came up on him all excited, were dashed at once. No human being, living or dead, was to be seen anywhere as Michonne brought the car to a stop and they all got out. On the way here, Rick had described the layout of the area to both women so they'd know what to expect and save the time they'd have here for the actual search itself.
He motioned for them to stay close instead of splitting up, and they both got in closer, Carol with her knife at waist height, tip pointing outward - and who had taught her to hold a knife like this? - and Michonne with her katana already raised high, ready to swing.
Then Rick noticed the graceful way Carol was moving, the way she soundlessly set her feet, the way she kept looking about herself, making sure that nobody was sneaking up on them from behind, and all at once he knew. Of course. Who else. He knew only one other person who moved like this. And if he was such an efficient trainer, maybe he could get him to train more people, not just his woman.
Of course, they'd have to find him first.
As they had been taken by surprise during their run simply because the walkers hadn't come at them in a straight line but around a corner, he insisted on them walking around the entire building first before starting a detailed search. But sadly, once they'd finished their full circle he still had no idea where to even start looking. Calling out for him or honking their horn seemed ill advised as it would only draw walkers again - while at the same time it might not be loud enough to even be heard by Daryl if he'd had to run far in order to lose his host of followers.
In an attempt to not appear so utterly clueless and instill some sense of hope and purpose in Carol, Rick suggested that they first search the store, silently griping about the fact that it was their only tracker, of all people, who was missing. The sadness and despair in Carol's posture and the pain in her eyes when their search came up empty made his heart clench. But at least they hadn't found any discarded bolts let alone his crossbow either inside or outside, so Daryl still had to be carrying his weapon.
Or so Rick hoped.
He looked around at the few scraggly bushes and riotous weeds growing in the flower beds sprinkled across the parking lot, but there was no way Daryl could be hidden behind them. Their own car was the only one in sight, and as far as he could see there was no way to get onto the roof from outside the building. Maybe he'd overlooked any roof access points inside the store?
He asked Michonne and Carol if they had noticed any ladders or stairs leading onto the store's roof inside, but Carol shook her head and Michonne assured him that the ladders leading up to the hatches she'd seen had all still been folded and the hatches themselves barred from the inside. Another dead end.
What else had he overlooked? Maybe Daryl had just had to get farther away and they'd find him if only they ventured out a bit more? But where to start looking? The industrial estate that had sprung up around the supermarket wasn't huge, but looking through all of it would take quite a while, and starting at the wrong end because they overlooked a hint Daryl had left for them might lose them precious time.
He was biting his lip and scratching his head, the very image of helplessness, when Carol suggested looking all around the outside of the store again - maybe Daryl had drawn the walkers farther out and was now coming back here? Her face and eyes were so full of hope that Rick didn't have the heart to quash the idea outright, and as long as he still had no clue of what else to do without Daryl by his side to find any tracks and come up with one of his surprisingly insightful ideas there was nothing better to do anyway.
They started walking around the flat building once again, weapons drawn and at the ready, constantly looking out for either walkers or live humans, whom they'd come to fear a lot more than the undead.
As they were passing the store's huge, industrial size, wheeled waste containers, wrinkling their noses at the ripe smell in distate, Michonne asked Rick if splitting up might not be a good idea in this situation after all. "If he escaped into the estate we've got a lot more ground to cover and we'd be much faster if we divided it up into separate areas and split up."
Rick was just about to open his mouth and admit that her idea had merit and had occurred to him as well when one of the container lids swung back on hits huge hinges, the rubber lip producing a screeching sound in the heat as it scraped across the metal edge of the container. As one, all three of them whirled to face it and point their weapons at whatever might come at them, but none of them was prepared for what happened next.
Once the lid was open all the way and no longer likely to swing back down, a human figure emerged from the darkness inside the container. Amazingly, it wasn't covered in muck, but did seem to reel slightly from the pungent stench in the air. Before any details about it could even register with Rick, Carol yelped with delight at his side and took off toward the container.
Rick's eyes widened in surprise and joy as he watched Carol take Daryl's crossbow so his hands were free to make it easier for him to climb out of the organic waste container than getting in had been. His quiver was slung across his back, he was still carrying all of his knives, and with the exception of his soiled boots, which were probably beyond salvaging, he looked none the worse for wear.
He toed off his boots as soon as he stood on solid ground again, then pulled off his socks, revealing his pale, calloused feet. "Vegetable shit was liquid already, went clean through my boots", he growled in disgust before turning toward Rick. "Took ya long enough. I sure hope I soaked up some a' that ripe aroma for y'all ta enjoy on the way back."
Rick threw a mock punch at him just as Carol noticed the makeshift bandage around Daryl's right hand and tried to grab it. "Naw, 's nothin', that's just a gash from the barbed wire. Got that covered - cleaned and disinfected it, nothin' left for you to do, woman", he mumbled as he snatched back his hand and curled it around the strap of his bow.
With a raised eyebrow toward Rick he dug a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket and a lighter out of another one. Lighting up and inhaling deeply, he allowed himself a contented sigh. "Woulda lit the whole damn container on fire, what with all the rot in there, if I'd done that inside", he remarked, turning back toward the container.
"So, we found another way to hide from geeks as long as they don't see ya gettin' in", he went on, sounding very pleased with himself. "Though I don't know what's worse - coverin' yerself in walker guts or stewin' in stinkin' organic waste. Hope I won't have ta make that sacrifice again anytime soon!"
With a grimace back at his stinking boots and discarded socks he turned away, put a possessive arm around a surprised Carol's shoulders and sauntered off with her, not waiting for the other two to follow.