He didn't want to be here. Hell, he didn't want to be. Just cease to exist, vanish.
This was the worst possible outcome. No, actually, he was wrong. It could have been worse. They could have lost Carol, too. Realizing that it could always, always be worse held no comfort. In fact, it made Daryl feel worse still. It would always come worse. It would never end.
He curled up in the passenger seat, actually drew his legs up, made himself as small as he could. Turned his face more firmly away from Rick, who was in the driver's seat. Hugged himself hard, gripped his upper arms painfully enough to leave finger-shaped bruises on himself. Closed his eyes against the world rushing sickeningly by.
A dull throb had started again at the base of his skull and was slowly traveling round his head, enclosing it in a painful vice. Daryl knew what was coming. He let it happen, didn't fight it. Never mentioned it to anyone until the nausea was so strong Rick barely had time to stop before Daryl, choking on the request, was out of the car, slumping on the tarmac just by the passenger door, sick splattering his clothes, his arms.
He deserved this. He had failed another person. The agony in his head, the cramps twisting his stomach, the acid burning his throat, all of it would never, could never, be payment enough for his failure to keep their people safe.
-.-
Of course this had to happen. Carol had had a bad feeling the moment Rick had told them he'd take Noah to Shirewilt. Rick shouldn't have gone anywhere right now, they should not have split up. They should have stayed together, they were all so weak. But all that was academic now, the others were halfway to that boy's camp, and complaining would do nobody any good.
It seemed Daryl had only held it together for Rick's sake. As soon as his man was gone things had come apart at the seams. Rick and the others had only been gone an hour or so when Carol stumbled upon the hunter just out of sight of the makeshift roadside camp.
He was on his knees, heaving and gagging. Carol hurried to his side just in time to prevent him from losing his balance completely and falling face first to the ground. She put her arms around him, one hand to his forehead, murmuring soothingly and stroking his burning brow. Daryl moaned at the touch, and Carol wasn't sure whether it was from pain she was causing him.
He retched again, and she could tell it was only bile coming up now. Still, for the moment Daryl was utterly unable to stop gagging, and Carol held him for a long time while dry heaves shook his entire body. He felt worryingly light in her arms even though she was supporting most of his weight now, and Carol was horrified by how clearly she could feel his ribs through the shirt. Before the gagging finally subsided more from exhaustion than any relief, Daryl was sobbing, and shivering with fever.
"Shh…"
Carol pulled Daryl close when he was finally able to breathe again. He clung to her and buried his head against her shoulder. Of course.
"The light?"
She could feel him nod against her shakily.
"Hurts…"
Carol enfolded him more closely in her arms, shielding him as much as she could, thinking. They had nowhere to go. The car their part of the group was left with was as good as out of gas, which was partly why they'd stayed behind. The others would make finding fuel one of their priorities. Until they returned the rest of them were stranded. No dark, quiet room for Daryl to wait out the worst of this. And Carol remembered something else.
"You're out of painkillers."
It wasn't a question and she didn't expect a reply. After Beth got killed Daryl had had a few bad days, but he'd made himself sick deliberately by not taking his pills when the headache started. Once they'd coerced him into taking them again he had recovered somewhat. There was no chance of that happening now.
"Why didn't you say something, huh?"
Again, Carol didn't expect a reply, and didn't get one.
"Let's try and get you back to the others, ok? You'll only get worse if we stay here…"
Daryl let out a sigh dangerously close to a whimper. His hands bunched into the fabric of her shirt more tightly, but eventually he nodded.
It turned out to be almost impossible to get Daryl back on his feet on her own. He was so utterly devoid of strength and coordination Carol nearly gave up. She'd have to get Abe to help. But Daryl clung to her so desperately she couldn't bring herself to leave him even for a few minutes.
The first time they almost managed to get back to standing he started gagging when he tried to straighten up, and Carol only barely managed to lower him down without a huge jolt when his knees gave way. They stayed down a few more minutes, Carol noticing with increasing worry just how labored Daryl's breathing was becoming, and how his skin became hotter and hotter under her hands.
On the second attempt they got themselves upright, more or less. Daryl was still heavy enough to make it awkward for Carol to move at all, and he increasingly slumped in her arms as they slowly covered the short distance to their camp.
Maggie was the first to spot them and immediately came hurrying over. Carol stopped, shifting Daryl so Maggie could grab his other arm. He was still trying to avert his eyes from the light by keeping his head close to her shoulder, and the new position which would allow the two women to hold him made that impossible. He groaned and Carol felt him shudder, and slump even more.
"Sorry, sorry… Daryl, I'm so sorry, it's not for long… Maggie, let's get him in the back seat of the Sedan… He needs to lie down right away, he's barely standing..."
Maggie nodded, supported Daryl on the opposite side and the three of them covered the remaining distance to the car more quickly. Carol climbed in and somehow they got Daryl into the backseat. He was so uncoordinated that he was almost no help, and the two women struggled to get him through the door without hurting him. Once inside he flopped down heavily on the back bench. Carol climbed out of the other door and went round to the trunk.
"Can you get me some bottles of water, and some cloths?" Carol turned to Maggie, who nodded. She closed the door behind Daryl as quietly as she could and moved to where their provisions were stacked.
As hoped, Carol found sheets, towels and blankets in the trunk and set to work. By the time Maggie came back she had hung these over all the windows, throwing the interior into a hopefully soothing gloom.
Carol took the bottles and cloths from Maggie with a thanks and walked to the door by Daryl's feet. They'd leave this one alone open a crack, to get in and out without slamming doors all the time. She climbed in carefully, trying not to rock the car, then folded down the front seats to afford more space. Finally, Carol perched awkwardly on the back seat by Daryl's side.
Carol looked down at their hunter. He'd drawn his legs up, trying to make himself small. Carol could see the tension vibrating through his entire body. His hand was pressed hard on his stomach, and his breath now came in tight, small gasps. Carol could see the misery on his face as he fought nausea and pain. She looked around. There was one more thing she needed.
Fortunately Carol had remembered right, and she now leaned over to retrieve a number of plastic bags from the door compartment in the front passenger door. She was just in time. No sooner had Carol sat back down that Daryl lifted his head with a moan, scrabbling for purchase with his hands, trying to get out of the car.
"Daryl, here."
Carol helped him to push himself up and forward. She held the bag for him as he gagged, finally retching light brown liquid. She was amazed there was still so much to come up, and was getting increasingly worried at the thought of just how much fluids he was losing.
After what felt like a long time Daryl slumped back heavily into the seat. There were tear streaks all down his face, and his skin was ghostly white except for two red spots high in his cheeks. Carol put the sick bag on the floor and got one of the bottles of water and a cloth. She poured water onto the cloth and held it gently against Daryl's forehead. When she started wiping his face with the cloth Daryl let out a deep sigh that ended in a sob. Carol poured some more water over it when the cloth got warm quickly, then placed it on Daryl's forehead.
Maggie stuck her head through the door and Carol turned round.
"Here, I got these from his pack." She handed two blankets to Carol. "And here's a pillow, too. Might feel better for his head."
Carol took the pillow as well and smiled at Maggie. "Thank you."
"Wish there was more we could do…"
Carol looked down at Daryl who was now shivering so hard his teeth were clicking together.
"I know…"
With a sad smile Maggie withdrew and leaned the door closed noiselessly. Carol carefully lifted Daryl up by the shoulders with a few soothing words and placed the pillow on the seat. The hunter sank into it with another moan. When Carol spread the blankets over him Daryl pulled them close around himself immediately with a shudder.
"Thank you…so cold…"
"Unfortunately you don't feel cold… Daryl, you need to drink some water. You're already dehydrated, and you'll soon feel much worse unless we get some liquids into you…"
"Please… no… 's jus' gonna make me puke 'gain…"
"Maybe. But we have to try, Daryl. It's no use arguing…"
He hesitated, then gave a tiny nod. Carol unscrewed the bottle again and held it against his lips. Daryl took a few sips. Carol could tell how parched he was, and how hard he was trying not to drink too greedily. A little water and spit ran down his chin and Carol wiped it away. Then she withdrew the bottle.
"Let's wait a moment, see if this agrees with you…"
They didn't have long to wait. Carol could see the panicky flutter in Daryl's throat a minute or so later and held the bag open again. He was leaning heavily on her as the water came rushing back up.
Carol held him more firmly as the spasms started to subside, and Daryl clung to her. He was now crying in earnest, and when he was finally able to lie back down he buried his face in the pillow. One hand went up to the side of his head and he pressed down hard, moaning.
Carol gently stroked his hair, then his shaking shoulders. If only Rick came back soon. She knew he was the only one that could give Daryl any comfort now.
