Within hours Daryl knew he was in trouble. When he had grabbed Beth and run with her from the prison his only thought had been to keep her safe. That he wouldn't be able to do that if his body betrayed him again hadn't even crossed his mind until it was too late.
On that first day he'd still had some hope of finding some of the others. He kept his eyes trained on the underbrush, scanning for any sign that something living had passed through these woods recently. As the hours passed and he felt the familiar pressure behind his eyes increasing his hope turned to desperation.
He knew that with the adrenaline and stress of the day it was merely a matter of time before the migraine would return with a vengeance. They would be very lucky to come across any signs of human habitation, let alone a pharmacy still stocked with pain meds before it laid him low again.
The night in the boot of a car didn't help. Daryl didn't say anything to Beth, she was already scared enough. He was still hoping against hope that this time it would just blow over. A sleepless night crammed into a tiny space did of course nothing to quell the rising tension and pain.
When Beth got fed up with it all next day he couldn't really blame her. As soon as she stormed off Daryl knew he had to follow her and make sure she was all right, even though he felt awful and just wanted to rest for a little longer. Eating the snake meat had been a mistake, but he'd hoped that if he gave his body some nutrients it might decide to cooperate. That had been a big miscalculation.
He stumbled after Beth for a few minutes, but he knew he couldn't hold the sickness at bay much longer. His head felt like it was being cracked into two again, and his vision was blurring in and out of focus, which added to the nausea. He had a coppery taste on the back of his tongue which reminded him strongly of blood.
That did it. He had almost caught up to Beth, there were maybe twenty more yards between them, but Daryl knew throwing up was inevitable now. He stopped by a tree and steadied himself with one hand. Even though he was stationary the world seemed to still be moving.
"Beth."
He wasn't sure his voice had been loud enough to carry, but he saw her turn around just before he lost all control. The burning of the stomach acid in his throat was such a familiar feeling now, and no more welcome for it. The thought of the snake made him retch even harder. As usual, he just couldn't manage to stay upright and hit the ground hard when his knees buckled.
Then Beth was by his side. Daryl couldn't lie to himself, he wanted Rick to be there with him more than ever now. He was the only one he felt truly safe with when this thing hit and put him out of action. This was exactly the kind of situation they'd been afraid of, out in the woods alone, or near as. It was bad enough being dependent on the group, but needing Beth to be strong for him was tearing him apart.
"Oh, Daryl, I'm sorry! I'd forgotten all about it… You don't have any pills on you, do you?"
He managed to shake his head, then retched again when a new wave of nausea hit. How could there still be anything to bring up? Daryl was shaking, he felt like he was going to pass out. Trying to sit back and straighten up just brought more dizziness, and his stomach cramped painfully. He groaned, doubling up again.
Beth knelt down beside him. "Lean on me, Daryl. I know that's what Rick does. Come on, I can take it, I'm not squeamish. I grew up on a farm, remember?"
So Daryl took Beth up on the offer and let himself relax against her. He didn't dare slump into her like he usually did with Rick, letting go of the tension completely, but it still felt good to have someone hold him up. He tried to breathe through the lingering nausea now, closing his eyes and concentrating on keeping the world from spinning.
His head felt worse than he could ever remember. The throbbing, which was usually centered behind his eyes, slightly to the left or right, seemed now to come from all angles. He could hear hardly anything through a weird humming that seemed to get steadily louder, then died away again, then came back louder than before.
Beth was stroking his back in slow circles, which felt nice. Then he could feel her hand on his forehead for a moment.
"You are burning up, Daryl." Her voice sounded worried. "We have no water, and I can't leave you to try and find any. We need to move."
Daryl knew she was right, but the thought was the most unappealing thing just that moment. He knew it would only get worse before it got better, and if he didn't get off the ground now he might never get up again once the dehydration started adding to his dismal condition. He tried to push himself up.
"Let me help."
Beth stood and helped Daryl pull himself back to standing using the tree for balance. Once upright Daryl thought for a moment that he was going straight back down again, that's how shaky he felt. Either that or vomit again. In the end he did neither. Beth stood patiently, letting Daryl get his bearing and sanity back.
Daryl was afraid of the next bit. Beth seemed to be able to read his thoughts because she stepped close and slipped his arm around her shoulders after slipping the crossbow over her back.
"Lean on me. We'll never get anywhere if you don't let me help."
Unlike Rick Beth could not half carry him, of course. Daryl fought hard to keep enough control not to go too slack, but it was becoming harder to do as they continued through the undergrowth. His vision became worse, the light was like a knife constantly slicing into his brain. The worse the blurriness and spots clouding Daryl's vision, the harder it became to suppress the sickness.
Eventually he could no longer keep it under control. Beth didn't let go, she held him up as well as she could as Daryl brought up more bile, accompanied by the familiar sensation of tears running down his face with the agony of it.
Daryl could feel himself getting weaker, and he couldn't stop the shivering caused by dehydration and the fever. Finally they reached the edge of the woods, but Daryl couldn't even see clearly enough now to check whether there were any lurkers or other dangers lingering nearby.
"It's a cemetery," Beth said. Daryl found it hard to hear her as she continued, "I can see a building, just over there. Might be a funeral home… It's another fifty yards, or so, can you manage?"
"Yeah, just a sec…"
But waiting any longer didn't help. If anything, standing around just made him weaker. Beth seemed able to tell because she shifted to take more of his weight. Daryl tried to pull back, almost stumbled.
"Don't. 'm too heavy…"
"Never mind, Daryl. Let's just get you in there. We can't stay out here, it's getting late…"
It was a long fifty yards to the funeral home. Daryl didn't have a recollection later how they managed it, he just knew that by the end of the ordeal he was almost blind with pain. Beth lowered him onto the stoop outside the back door when they finally reached the building.
"I need to go and check it out first."
Daryl knew she was right, but he didn't like it. She still had the crossbow, though he wasn't sure how much good that would be, she could hardly lift it. But he couldn't help, it was all he could do now not to pass out. As Beth disappeared through the door a fresh wave of nausea hit and before he was even really conscious of it more sick was splattering the ground in front of him.
When this bout of nausea ceased Daryl pulled his knees up on the stoop, trying to avoid the puke but sure he'd gotten it all over himself anyway. He rested his head on his knees, savoring the semi-darkness that was soothing behind his eyelids. His throat was raw from the bile and all his muscles ached. He was still shivering uncontrollably.
Finally Beth was back. Daryl didn't hear her until she crouched down by his side and touched his arm, which made him flinch, bringing more stabs of pain. He wasn't sure he hadn't nodded off for a moment, and felt badly shaken by that thought. He was not safe out here, and he was a liability to Beth. How he wished they could have gotten away with Rick…
"Come on. Coast is clear. There's a sofa in one of the offices, I've already lowered the blinds."
Beth got him off the steps, how he had no idea. He could hardly stand now and the ground pitched and roiled sickeningly below him. When they got through the door Daryl steadied himself with one hand against the wall. Beth led him into one of the rooms near the front and helped him stretch out on the sofa there.
The feeling of finally being out of the glaring light, and able to lie down on something soft without the immediate fear of walkers looming was wonderful. Daryl closed his eyes and just concentrated on breathing for a few moments. When he opened his eyes again he saw Beth crouching by his side. Her face was creased with worry. She placed a hand against his neck for a moment.
"You're still hot as a furnace, and you look awful. Stay right here, I'll be back as soon as I can with whatever supplies I can rustle up."
She disappeared and Daryl closed his eyes again. This time he was sure he fell asleep, and it felt like bliss. He was aware that he had to allow himself to rest and knew better now than to fight his body when it became uncooperative. It didn't do any good and actually made recovery harder.
When he woke up it was dark outside. Beth was back in the room but she was sitting by the light of only one candle. She came over as soon as he stirred.
"Was I out long?"
"Couple of hours maybe. I thought I'd let you sleep. Has it helped any?"
Daryl gave a small shrug. His head was still throbbing, but the nausea was a bit less pronounced, and lying down the room wasn't spinning so much. Beth went over to a desk in the corner and retrieved a glass of water and something small, which she held out to Daryl as she returned.
"Tylenol, only thing I found, but there's plenty."
Daryl propped himself on one elbow, and a searing bolt of pain shot through his head. He groaned, closing his eyes, willing the throbbing to subside. When he felt it ebbing away he opened his eyes again and took the pills from Beth. He swallowed two with some water and lay back down. Tylenol never did much for this migraine, but it had to be better than nothing.
Or maybe not. A minute or so after swallowing the pills he could feel the sickness press against his skull again. This time he came up to sitting much more quickly. Beth was still hovering close by.
"Are you going to throw up?" She was already moving.
Daryl managed another nod and Beth was there with a metal basin just in time. It was a relief that this time the nausea passed quickly once the pills and water had come back up. Daryl lay back down, shaking again. Beth put the basin on the floor close by and now came over with a wet cloth which she placed on Daryl's burning head. It felt soothing enough for tears to prickle behind his closed eyelids again.
"We need to get some water into you, Daryl, you are dangerously dehydrated. Maybe without the Tylenol it'll stay down?"
Daryl felt very thirsty. "Let's try it."
A few sips were fine and soon Daryl found himself nodding off again. He tried to keep his eyes open, not wanting Beth to stay awake alone, but she noticed, sitting on the floor close by him. She put a hand on his cheek and gave a brave little smile.
"Go to sleep. I don't mind staying up, and you badly need some rest."
She dipped the cloth into the bowl of water by her feet again and replaced it on his forehead. Then she started humming a song very softly that she'd often sung for them at the prison and Daryl closed his eyes. The familiar tune was soothing and he was soon asleep.
Beth looked at Daryl where he was sleeping on the horribly green sofa. His face was not peaceful even in sleep. She could still see the lines etched into his forehead that had become deeper all day as the pain got more and more unbearable. His cheeks were flushed, but not in a healthy way.
Even sitting a few feet away Beth could feel the heat radiating off Daryl. Other than the flushed cheeks his color was somewhere between clay gray and ghostly white. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked gaunt in the candle light.
Their situation was close to impossible. Beth knew that they both needed to find the others as soon as possible or they would never make it. She'd be all right for a while if she was on her own. Beth knew she was stronger than the others gave her credit for, but she wasn't strong enough to help Daryl navigate this wilderness in his condition. Hopefully he'd recover somewhat before they were forced to move on.
Because Beth knew that their respite could only be temporary, and that new horrors were already waiting in the off. And that neither of them was ready to face whatever came next.
