Rick paces outside the infirmary doors like an expectant father awaiting the birth of his first child. Ten paces from one side of the institutional grey corridor to the other – paces he's counted a hundred times in his head already. He pauses at the apex of his endless journey and turns his wrist over to look at the watch that's fastened there but it's useless. His mind has lost all concept of time and he has no idea how long he's been waiting outside the frosted glass doors. It feels like forever since Maggie had ushered him out with a litany of soothing sounds and reassuring words designed to keep him from freaking the hell out. But how could he be calm when the person he loved most in the world was being deliberately cut to pieces on the other side of that door? The thought was almost too much for him to bear and he'd had to stop himself a dozen times from bursting into the room beyond and trying to do something to help that would squash the feeling of impotence that was consuming his soul right now.
He'd known something was wrong from the moment they'd woken up that morning - the usually comforting warmth of Daryl's flesh pressed against his had been replaced by a sickly heat burning under his skin, a sheen of sweat slicking his torso and plastering his hair damply to his forehead. Naturally he'd scoffed at Rick's concerns that he was sick, claiming that he must have gotten tangled in the blanket while he slept and become overheated. Rick had let it drop, knowing better than to push the issue, and hoping that it was just the start of the same cold that had been making its way through their ranks in the past couple of weeks. He'd decided to keep a closer eye than normal on Daryl during the day but that had proved easier said than done when Daryl had given him the slip soon after breakfast and Rick hadn't been able to find him again until lunchtime. One look at the sunken hollows under Daryl's eyes and the sweat dripping from his brow as he made his way over to the barbecue pit told Rick that this was something more serious than just a cold. When Daryl had staggered coming to the table, dropping his plate and clutching at his stomach, Rick had shot from his seat, shouting for Glenn to help and the two of them had half-walked, half-carried Daryl to the infirmary.
It didn't take more than a cursory examination from Caleb to declare that Daryl was suffering from appendicitis and it needed to come out immediately before there were any complications. Reassuring Rick that this was something he'd done a hundred times in the past, the doctor had started to prepare, Daryl's silent acquiescence to being operated on telling Rick exactly how much pain he was really in. everything was smooth sailing up until the point where Caleb had tried to sedate Daryl and he had exploded into a full-blown panic attack, insisting that they operate without it. Hershel, who had been ready to assist Caleb, had called Rick back into the room and he'd spent thirty minutes talking Daryl down - seeing the outright terror in his lover's eyes at the thought of being that vulnerable and having to put his life in somebody else's hands, even if they were people he knew and trusted. Eventually he'd come around, another wave of crippling pain forcing his hand and Rick had stayed with him while they put him under, keeping Daryl focused on him – his eyes showing his fear but also brimming with his utmost trust in Rick.
Now here Rick is, wearing a grove with his boots in the smooth linoleum, peripherally aware of Michonne leaning against the wall behind him keeping a silent vigil of her own. Rick was grateful for her presence but he couldn't spare her an ounce of his concentration – it was taking everything he had not to think of all the things that could go wrong on the other side of that door given the grimness of their current situation. When the door finally opens, he can feel his heart pause in its rhythm for a moment as it plummets to his feet and then rushes back up into his throat, only beating again when Hershel steps out and gives him a broad smile.
"How did it go?" Rick asks, letting go of a shaky breath and nervously pushing his fingers through his hair.
"Good, Rick, good," Hershel tells him in his soft, even tone. "There were no complications but…"
"But?"
"He's already awake – that man has the constitution of an ox, I swear – and Caleb and I can only use our best guess on how much it's going to take to keep somebody under for any length of time."
"Is he in pain?" Rick asks, feeling a twist of anguish turn in his gut.
"No," Hershel reassures him, laying a hand on his arm, "and that's the problem. Caleb has him so pumped full of morphine on top of the sedatives we gave him that he's feeling nothing and he's trying to leave. He's a little out of it and he can't understand why he needs to be still. Caleb was thinking that maybe you could come in and try to calm him down a bit before he rips his damn stitches out."
"Of course," Rick states, already pushing forward through the doors.
Daryl is half-in, half-out of one of the infirmary beds, struggling against both Maggie and Caleb as they try to restrain him.
"Daryl," Rick says firmly, coming up beside his bed, "it's okay, you have to calm down, we're just trying to help. You're going to hurt yourself."
As if somebody had abruptly flipped a switch inside of him, Daryl ceases his escape efforts and falls back onto the bed, his eyes fixed on Rick's face.
"Woah," he mutters, reaching up a hand towards Rick's face and then dropping it back to the bed. "You're so beautiful."
Rick can hear the squeak of Maggie's laughter from behind him and he feels an embarrassed heat crawl up his neck.
"Daryl, do you know where you are?" he asks, stepping closer to attract Daryl's wandering focus.
"Hmm…" Daryl mumbles, closing his eyes for a long second before blinking them back open to find Rick's face again. "Heaven?"
"Not quite, buddy," Rick chuckles, laying his hand against Daryl's bare chest.
"Uh-huh, because you're an angel," Daryl insists, nodding his head vehemently and now Rick can hear Hershel and Caleb's muffled laughter alongside Maggie's.
"Guys, a minute please," he implores, turning to fix them with what he hopes is a stern glare but he's pretty sure just looks like the face of a man desperate not to be embarrassed any further in front of his friends.
Smirking at him, the three of them retreat through the infirmary room doors, leaving him alone with Daryl who is now staring in amazement at the hand Rick still has resting against him.
"You had an operation but you're going to be fine. I just need you to lay still, can you do that for me?" Rick tells him and Daryl's eyes go wide as he catches sight of the bandage covering his abdomen.
"Oww," he says, prodding at the bandage with one finger until Rick grabs his hand.
"No! You have to leave it alone so it can heal," Rick chides him and the pout that forms on Daryl's face is something he never thought he'd see in his lifetime.
"Who are you? Do I know you?" Daryl asks inquisitively, wriggling his fingers in Rick's grasp. "Are you my nurse?"
"You don't recognize me?" Rick chuckles, squeezing Daryl's fingers. "I'm Rick, your husband."
"Shut up!" Daryl shrieks, his eyebrows disappearing up under his bangs. "No fucking way am I married to a hot piece of tail like you… you have to be shitting me."
"'s'true," Rick answers with a smile, holding up his hand so that Daryl can see the plain silver band on his finger and then lifting Daryl's hand so that he can see his too.
"But… but… but," Daryl stammers, his mouth working but his brain far from catching up. "How? You're fucking gorgeous and I'm… I'm… Daryl."
"You're pretty damn hot there yourself, at least that's what you keep telling me," Rick laughs, seeing the familiar look of disbelief spreading across Daryl's face.
"Pffft, you're just messing with me now. Ain't no way a stud like you is married to a bum like me."
He falls silent for a moment, his eyes closing again and Rick sweeps his bangs back from his forehead, hoping that he's going back to sleep.
"Oh my God," Daryl shouts, his eyes flying open again and Rick sighs, "do we have kids?"
"Yes, we have two – a boy and a baby girl."
"Shut the fuck up! Don't be lyin' to me now. Do they look like me or you… wait, don't tell me. They better look like you because, man, you are fiiine, unh!"
"They're…"
"Wait! Holy shit. We have two kids? That means we musta had sex at least two times," Daryl whispers in an awed voice and now Rick can barely keep his own laughter inside as Daryl's eyes slip closed once more.
He thinks that Daryl might actually be out for good this time until the door opens and Maggie slips inside.
"Caleb wants me to check on his stitches after all that flailing around he was doing. He thought a female face might be a little less threatening," she explains as Rick sees Daryl re-open one eye and look in her direction.
"Daryl, this is Maggie, do you remember her? She's just going to take a quick look at your belly, okay?"
"She's pretty," Daryl says in what he obviously thinks is a whisper but it's not even close, hiding his mouth behind his hand. "Is she our wife?"
"No," Rick laughs and Maggie snorts as she carefully pulls on a pair of fresh gloves and peels back the bandage on Daryl's stomach. "Maggie is our friend, she's married to Glenn."
"Ahh, Glenn," Daryl yells, recognition lighting up his face. "Good old Glenn."
"You have no idea who Glenn is do you?"
"Nope," Daryl says, shaking his head from side to side and giggling like this is the most amusing thing he's ever heard, "but if he's Maggie's wife then I love him too."
"He's fine," Maggie tells Rick, smoothing Daryl's dressing back into place, her eyes brimming with mirth.
"How long is this going to last?" Rick asks quietly, nodding his head at Daryl, who is currently reaching out to stroke Rick's arm like it's a tiny kitten and making soft cooing noises under his breath.
"It'll wear off once he gets some sleep," Maggie giggles. "Caleb said you should probably try to get him to eat a few crackers so he doesn't feel nauseous when he wakes up again."
"Thanks, I'll try," Rick tells her and she gives him a sympathetic look before turning back to Daryl.
"I'm going now, Daryl, feel better," she tells him.
"Noooo," he wails, reaching out his hands to her like a toddler about to be left at daycare, his pout firmly back in place. "You can't go."
"I have to, sweetie, but I'll come back tomorrow, I promise. I have to go find Glenn and tell him how good you're doing."
"Ahh, Glenn," sighs Daryl, "I love Glenn."
"He loves you too," she tells him with a smile, taking one of his outstretched hands, "but now Rick is going to take care of you, okay?"
"'kay," he grins back at her and then tugs on her fingers to pull her closer where he whispers conspiratorially, "Rick's my husband. We've had sex. Twice."
"And now Maggie has to go," Rick interjects, taking Daryl's hand from her and nudging her giggling body towards the door, feeling his face burn with a crimson fire.
"Bye Maggie," Daryl shouts, waving enthusiastically at her until she closes the door and then his eyes snap back to Rick.
"Now, how about we get you some crackers and then you can take a nap," Rick suggests, walking over to the nearby counter to grab the sealed bag laying there.
No sooner is his back turned than Daryl lets loose with an ear-piercing wolf-whistle that makes Rick nearly jump out of his skin before he swings back to look at him.
"Nurse Booty is on duty," Daryl smirks, giving Rick an exaggerated wink and Rick is sure the heat from his face could warm the entire cell block at this point.
"Daryl!"
"What..? I can't help it if you're workin' that tight li'l ass in those jeans. I'm only human."
"And you're not going to live this down once you're feeling better," Rick mutters under his breath as he opens the bag of undoubtedly stale crackers and hands one to Daryl. "Here eat this and then you're going to sleep, mister."
Daryl snatches the cracker from Rick's outstretched fingers and devours it in one bite, opening his mouth to show Rick it's gone and holding out his hand for another. Rick shakes his head and hands him the next one, grabbing a few more from the bag before he re-seals it and tosses it back on the counter. Feeding the last few to Daryl, Rick can see his eyes are starting to droop a little and he knows he's finally starting to crash. With the last cracker completely swallowed and washed down with a little water, Rick brushes the inevitable crumbs from Daryl's chest and pulls the thin prison blanket up over him.
"Think you can take a nap now, big guy?" he asks gently, stroking Daryl's hair back from his face.
"Mm-hmm," Daryl agrees, blinking to keep his eyes open, "but you're not going anywhere, right?"
"Nope," Rick answers, climbing carefully onto the narrow bed on Daryl's good side. "I don't want to be anywhere else in the world right now."
"Mmm good," Daryl sighs as Rick molds himself around him as best he can, knowing that his back and hips are going to hate him in the morning but not caring in the slightest.
The last few sparks of the afternoon sun filter through the barred windows of the infirmary and all Rick can hear is the sound of Daryl's breathing and the steady thrum of his heartbeat in time with his own. Although he no longer considers himself a religious man, Rick silently offers up a prayer to whoever or whatever might be watching over him and thanks them for not letting him lose the man in his arms – his love, his life, his heart. He knows the risks are a thousand fold in this fucked up world they're stuck in and even something as seemingly inconsequential as a routine operation such as this could have so easily stolen him from Rick. He can't even begin to consider what would have become of him then.
"We're really married?" Daryl says suddenly in a confused voice, pulling Rick from his thoughts. "But you're so damn hot. How could you marry me?"
'How could I not?" Rick replies honestly, tugging Daryl closer and seeing the sleepy smile spread across his husband's face before he bends his head to kiss him gently on the lips.