He wasn't sure how long he lay in the grass next to his brothers' mangled corpse but at one point of other, he had gotten up and made his way back to camp.
He wiped his face, removing any trace of tears as he approached the chain-link fence. Carol and Beth pulled it open and he felt Carols' eyes burn through him, knowing she felt sorry for him. He didn't need her pity, he didn't need anyone's. He nodded curtly and pushed his way towards Rick.
"Merle's dead", he whispered inwardly cursing his own voice when it caught in his throat. "He killed a buncha of his people. Not him though." He cleared his throat and glanced up at Rick, making sure he knew who 'he' was. Rick opened his mouth to respond but Daryl shrugged him off and walked away briskly.
"Let him be." Rick said to Carol as she approached from behind. "Just give him some time." She sighed and nodded, falling into a nearby chair and rubbing her temples.
Daryl sat on his bunk, meticulously scrubbing an arrow. He himself was covered in blood and sweat, yet here he was cleaning his weapons. He shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. He knew they were all out there; probably talking about how relieved they were that Merle was gone. Or how sorry they felt for him. Well screw them; they didn't even know his brother. No one had any idea how many times Merle had saved Daryl in the past. Only he knew who Daryl truly was, on he knew what they had been through. This zombie stuff…this was cake. This was good living in their terms.
He picked up his knife and began to wipe it before realizing it was covered in Merles' blood. A sob rose in his chest and his throat knotted itself up.
'Stop being such a pussy,' Merles' voice echoed in his head 'It ain't like you got nothing left'. He threw the knife on the floor, suddenly feeling the need to clean himself up.
Daryl scrubbed his skin until it burned. He could not get the feeling of his brothers' blood off of him. He scrubbed until his arms were so raw that he began to bleed himself. 'Dammit' he muttered, tossing the rag aside and shutting off the water. He dried himself with his dirty clothes and pulled a semi-clean shirt over his wet head. His forearms were bright red and covered in tiny painful blisters of raw skin. He sighed and returned to his cell, surprised and frankly rather annoyed to see Rick sitting on his bed. "What do you want?"
"Just checking in." he pulled a bowl from his side and held it out. "Brought you something to eat."
"Not hungry." He chucked his dirty laundry into a corner and leaned against the wall, letting the cement cool his arms.
"I'll leave it here in case you change your mind." He put the bowl back onto the bed and stood to leave, cupping a firm hand on Daryl's shoulder. Daryl stiffened and visibly flinched but Rick didn't move his hand. "Don't shut yourself out, Daryl. You are too important to all of us." He squeezed gently and headed towards the others.
Daryl released the breath he had been unknowingly holding in a deep, shuttered sob. He wanted so badly to go out there with them. To talk and to cry and be comforted. These were things he had never experienced and a part of him knew it would make him feel better if he simply allowed himself to go out there. But he would never do it, he wasn't a baby and he sure as hell didn't need to be treated like one.
He slumped into the bed and picked at the food. Beans and some kind of canned mystery meat… awesome. He soon fell into a restless sleep.
Carol had been standing at the door for a few minutes now. Her bed was in the cell closest to Daryl's' and when she heard him, she couldn't help but go to him. She was surprised to find him still sleeping, muttering incomprehensibly and sobbing quietly. Her heart ached to reach out and touch him or to smooth a hand through his shaggy hair. She knew he may unintentionally hurt her if she startled him wake, but against her better judgment, she entered the cell. "Daryl," she reached a hand towards his toned shoulder.
"No, leave me alone." He mumbled unconsciously.
"Sshh." She squeezed gently.
"Please," he whimpered, "just stop." He sounded so defeated, so helpless.
"Daryl." She said again, more firmly. He jerked awake and looked around with wild eyes. "It's just me."
"The hell are you doing in here?" he wiped a hand over his face, unaware of why it was wet with tears.
"I came to check on you. You were having a nightmare."
"m' fine." He was angry and embarrassed that she had seen something he felt was so private.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No!" he spat out, sounding more hostile then he meant to. "Just let me be."
Carol nodded and backed out. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."
He nodded curtly and flipped back over, pulling his blanket up around his neck. He had been plagued with nightmares since he was a little boy. He didn't need nobody to coddle him because he had just another stupid one. He was surprised he had cried in his sleep though. Merle woulda laughed at him. His daddy would have beaten him for being such a goddamned baby. He couldn't even recall exactly what he had been dreaming about and had no intentions of dwelling on it.
The next morning he exited his cell to find the others. Carol's eyes reflected concern but he ignored her. Rick motioned for him to sit down when Beth suddenly jumped up and wrapped her arms around him tightly. He recoiled and tried to wiggle away from her but she held strong. When she finally did release him, she just smiled warmly and sat back down. He glanced at Rick who shrugged and gestured towards a seat again.
He was a bit ruffled after the unexpected hug but complied and sat down next to Rick. He was handed a protein bar and a mug of water. He had to admit, it felt good to have someone hold him, even if it was a young girl and a brief show of compassion, he did feel slightly better.
"I'm going hunting." He stood and took note of the curious and apprehensive looks on everyone's face. "We need some real meat. I'll be back before it is dark." He smiled as best as he could. "And you," he tapped Judith lightly on the nose. "You be a good girl."
He swung his crossbow over his shoulder and trudged out, hoping he had reassured them that they would not be losing him anytime soon. He had a family. It may not have been his blood…but it was more family then he had ever had.