Part One: Flight
Nayna cursed as the mattress dipped and she collided into the body of another person. What a fucking way to be pulled from sleep. It was too dark to see anything other than the outline of a person on the edge of the bed, but the musky scent lingering over her belonged to the one person she didn't want to see.
She pried her tongue from the roof of her mouth. "Rick?" Her voice cracked.
"Yeah," came the reply. He shifted, and she shifted with him, his body warm against hers. "Daryl in your bed again?"
She tried to swallow the sandpapery feeling from her mouth. He couldn't see the flush creeping up her chest as she moved to sit up, her knee sliding against his back. Her stupid heart fluttered in response, as if she hadn't just been touching him.
"Nayna?" He half glanced at her over his shoulder.
She reached around him for the water at his night stand. Her throat ached with dryness. When he realized what she was going for, he made to grab it as well, his hand bumping into hers. She sucked in her lower lip to prevent herself from sighing with longing and self-irritation.
As she gulped the water down, he leaned over and lit the lamp. Two white hot needle-like stabs of pain shot through her eyes to her brain. Fuck. She blinked her way into sight and recoiled at him watching her, a bemused expression on his face.
She rubbed her forehead to hide her horror at being caught in his bed…. again. She could have gone to sleep in the bed they reserved for Michonne, who was so often absent. So could have Daryl. Some habits were too deeply ingrained.
She shook her head, as if that could clear her thoughts. It didn't work. It never did.
Breathing out a sigh, she started kicking off the blankets.
"Move over," Rick said.
"What?"
"Move over," he said, as he'd said every single time he'd caught her in his cell. She dreaded the day he would stop telling her to move, yet it didn't stop her from trying to leave. She had no clue why she played these games with herself. They were exhausting, and they gained her nothing.
She obliged him and lay her head on his pillow, staring unabashed as he threw his boots in the corner and wormed his way out of his shirt. Her brows shot up. That was a new development. Usually he left his shirt on. Her breaths came out in short spurts as he climbed in next to her instead of pulling on another clean shirt.
Fuck. Her heart hammered in her chest when his arm skimmed hers as he folded his arm behind his head.
He turned his head back towards her. "What?"
"How's the line look?" She blurted.
His brow furrowed, and he sighed again. "Can this wait until tomorrow?"
"Yeah, of course. Sorry, you know how my brain is." She let out a breathy, stupid laugh and immediately regretted it. She always sounded dumb around him. Or made herself into a fool for him. It was all she could do to quell her temper at herself. Thankfully, Rick never seemed to notice her idiocy.
He smiled and reached over, twisting his fingers against her temple like he would wind a watch. "Turn that brain off. You need to sleep."
"I would have if you hadn't so rudely kicked me awake," she teased, grinning back at him as her heart leapt at the brush of his fingers.
He paused for a moment then rolled to face her, propping himself up on one elbow. "The line is okay. We'll need to double down, but they've been thinning the herd."
Her eyes found his. "Think we need more people on fence duty?"
In truth she barely knew what she was talking about. Mostly she was trying to distract herself from his thigh against hers, from his lips hovering less than a foot above her and from the urge to pull him on top of her.
"No, I think we're okay for now."
"We should reinforce the fence. Chain link isn't the sturdiest of materials."
"It's not. But we're okay for now. And we've got Andrea in case…"
He didn't finish, but he didn't have to. The Governor hung in the air between them, chopping away at any sense of comfort she'd felt a moment before. He absentmindedly rubbed the stump of his arm.
Whenever she was reminded of the Governor's cruelty, she varied between anger at him and anger at herself. She should have gone. She should have been there to protect him.
"I'd rather keep the line a bit thicker."
She blinked at him. "Aren't you afraid by keeping him out, we'll be keeping ourselves in?"
"Maybe. I don't think it'll come to that. I don't think he'll come back at all."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," she muttered.
"It's been over eight months. He's gone. He's probably dead. Michonne said she'd left him for dead."
"As good as dead."
"Exactly."
"That's not a 100% guarantee."
They fell into silence, while Nayna flipped through her brain in search of something to talk about, as he leaned over and flicked off the gas lamp.
"You know, I was thinking—"
"–go to sleep, Nayna."
"But—"
"–goodnight."
The next morning, she stood at the foot of her own bed, arms crossed over her chest as she stared down at Daryl. "Well, just make yourself at home."
Daryl snored in response. Ass. He slept like the dead. Smelled like it too.
They'd done this dance dozens of times. Yet today felt different. She couldn't put her finger on why.
She stepped over his haphazard pile of clothes and put her boot on the edge of the bed, giving it several hard shakes.
He sprang up, knife in his hand and a wild look in his eye.
"Oh good, you're up."
"What the hell, man?" He squinted at her. "What fucking time is it?"
"Time for you to get the hell up…And put some pants on. I really don't wanna see you in your underwear. No offense." She picked his pants up with her forefinger and thumb and held them out to him. They smelled just as bad as he did.
He snatched them away. "No offense, Daryl." He mimicked her as he stuffed himself in his pants.
"I mean no offense. Don't get your tighty whiteys in a twist."
"I don't wear tighty whiteys."
As evidenced by his previous state of undress, he did not wear tighty whiteys, but she still liked to tease in a sisterly sort of way.
"Did you even shower?"
"No."
"Gross, dude."
He rubbed his ass into the mattress. "Don't get all in a tizzy. I'll do your laundry."
She wanted to grimace. She laughed instead. "You better. You smell like a skunk rolled in an ashtray."
"Awful kind of you." He lay back on her bed, arms behind his head. "What the hell crawled up your ass and died?"
She rubbed her eyes. "Sorry. I didn't sleep much."
"You and Rick do a little….?" He rocked on the bed, making it creak and groan.
Her face flamed. "No! Fuckin' perv.
He snickered. "But you slept in his bed."
"Shut up!" She glared at him. He'd never teased her about Rick before. He'd joked about her being too drunk to find her bed, but never about sleeping with Rick.
"I dunno why you do this to yourself. Save us all the trouble and tell him."
A lump formed in her throat. "Tell him what?"
"Don't play dumb."
She pressed her cheek into her shoulder and turned her back to him. Was it so obvious that even Daryl had noticed? No, she just wasn't giving him the credit he deserved. He wasn't dumb, for all his redneck ways.
Before she could play dumb again, he spoke, "What you waitin' for, anyway?"
She picked at the peeling laminate on the fading dresser. She could either continue the game (always with the games!) or just admit it. She blew out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. It'd be a relief to tell someone. Even if that someone was Daryl. No, especially since that someone was Daryl.
"Nayna?"
She cleared her throat. "Giving him time to heal. It hasn't been that long since Lori died."
"It's been a year."
She shrugged as she studied the exposed wood. In truth it wasn't as simple as merely giving Rick time to mourn. Yes, he needed space, but if he rejected her, she didn't know how she would stand it.
Her nail dragged across the surface of the dresser, slicing through the paint. Out of all people, Daryl should have known her fear of rejection. It was his fear too. He too, still held back, even while being accepted by the group. A leftover defense mechanism from a childhood filled with abuse and pain.
She flicked off a piece of the chipped paint. "Meeting's at 7 tonight."
He stared at her for a beat but accepted her change of subject. "Why so damn late?"
"Between the run, fence duty and watches, it's the only time the rest of the council is available." She half-smiled, though her heart wasn't really in it. She really wished he would just go away.
He reached down into his bag and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. He popped it between his lips.
"Hey! Come on, no smoking in here. You know the rules. Take that shit outside."
He begrudgingly got up and shrugged himself into his vest. "Act like you don't smoke ever."
"I don't!"
"Every time I light one, you fucking look like I kicked your dog."
She stared longingly at the cigarette, already tasting the ash. She hadn't had one since the day after they'd saved Rick from the tank. William asked her so many times to quit smoking and she always had an excuse. A big case or a court date or an inquiry. But Rick complained once and she quit there on the spot.
Nayna shook her head. "Point is, no one wants to breathe that crap in."
"I'm going, I'm going." He paused at the curtain and turned back to her. "See you out there?"
God, he wouldn't fuck off. She shook her head, rubbing her thumb across her bottom lip. A gesture she picked up from Rick. "Got watch later."
"Have fun."
"Always."
After Daryl had left, she wriggled herself into a new set of clothes, pausing to press her shirt to her nose. Rick's scent lingered, and she nuzzled her face into it, imagining it was his shoulder. Then she froze. What the fuck was she doing? She threw the shirt across the room, as if it were a bomb about to explode.
The only bomb that was going to go off was her if she didn't get her shit together.
She untangled her braid and ran a wet comb through her hair. She'd wash it later. For now, it was enough to wet it down and re-braid it. When she was finished, she ran her hand through her hair, pushing the stray hairs from her face.
Too restless to sit down, she paced her cell while she picked at her nails. On one hand, Daryl may have been right. On the other, Rick still talked to Lori on the phone.
Rick never mentioned it to her, and Nayna pretended not to notice. On the occasions she'd walked in on him using the phone, she always pretended to be looking elsewhere, giving him the chance to pretend it wasn't what it looked like. It made her heart ache, just thinking about him missing his dead wife.
She never thought of her own dead husband anymore, except in passing. How fucking cold she must look to Rick. She had loved William, once upon a time. But now, that life was behind her. Surely Rick would understand.
She stopped in the middle of her cell, decorated with Carl's drawings and Judith's handprints and sighed. Standing alone, in the middle of her cell wouldn't solve anything. Overthinking wouldn't do shit for her.
There was still a good half-hour before her shift started, so she shuffled over to her desk and opened her satchel. As she did every morning, she emptied it and examined each item one by one. Both Daryl and Rick made fun of her for it, but it'd saved their asses on more than one occasion.
Everything looked to be in order and so was put back in the same order it had been removed. She slung the bag over her shoulder and began her pre-watch routine. Bag, then bow, then Sig. Lastly, the fucking leather jacket she and William had argued over for months.
Ducking out of her cell, she waved to Andrea and Dale, playing some sort of card game with Billy and Ben.
"Mornin'!" Dale called to her. "Where you headed so early? Goin' on the run?"
"Nah, got watch."
Andrea smiled. "Go fish. Well, good luck. Glenn and Maggie are on watch now."
"Oh boy."
Both Andrea and Dale laughed, and the boys laughed with them, though they were too young to know why.
She waved and weaved her way out of the prison and into the yard. In the early morning light with the mists hovering over the grass it was a hauntingly beautiful sight. It only took the end of the world for her to appreciate the beauty of nature.
Pulling her jacket tighter around her, she hustled to the tower and up the stairs. Too cold to dawdle, even to just watch the sunrise. That and she was very nearly late.
She yanked the guard tower door open and immediately covered her eyes. "Jesus! Can't you two fuck somewhere else?"
Glenn laughed sheepishly from the floor. "Sorry, we didn't realize it was so late."
"No kidding." She turned away and pulled the door shut behind her.
Seeing Glenn and Maggie so entangled in each other made her feel lonelier than ever. Andrea had Dale. Michonne had Tyreese. Maggie had Glenn. Nayna wanted to have Rick. It was that simple and yet, that complicated. She gripped the railing and stared out into the open. Maybe Daryl was right. Maybe it had been long enough. Maybe it was time. Maybe she could let herself go and be happy for once.
Her heart pounded in response and she closed her eyes with a sigh. The door opened behind her and Maggie and Glenn both shuffled out and down the ladder, still apologizing.
She leaned over the rail and shouted down to Glenn. "I hope you guys are using condoms!"
He glared up at her and she laughed as he gestured to Hershel, who was too busy showing Axel the plow to notice. Nayna waved down to Glenn and he gave her a one fingered salute in return.
Still chortling she went to the north side of the tower, eyes scanning over the small sea of roamers below. Nothing looked amiss. She went back inside the tower. She'd make another pass in a few minutes.
And so, the process would repeat again and again and again over the course of the next few hours. The only break in the monotony was the sight of the roamers stripping a buck down to its bones in the matter of minutes.
Her stomach rolled, and she curled her lip. That fucking deer could have feed them all for a few days. Those fuckers down there were never satisfied, never full.
She glanced down, and her heart leapt at the sight of Rick sauntering up to the guard tower. He waved at her. She grinned and waved back.
She walked around to the other side of the tower, twisting her fingers in the hem of her shirt. Her stomach was doing stupid little flips as he jogged up the stairs. She grasped the railing and leaned forward, pressing her quivering abdomen against the cold, hard railing. The better to keep her from squirming in nervous anticipation.
Fucking Daryl. Now she was a damn wreck.
"Hey," Rick said, sliding in next to her."
She smiled. "Hi. Weren't you just on watch?"
"Came up here to check on you."
She gave a tittering laugh. Touched as she was, she scoffed and playfully punched him in the shoulder. "Oh please, you just wanted an excuse to come up here."
Rick smiled his slow southern smile. She tried to hide her flushed cheeks by bending down to examine her boots. She licked her thumb and wiped off invisible dirt. Goddamn Daryl.
When her breaths evened out, she glanced back up at him. He was far away, his attention focused on the walkers. She brushed a few stray hairs from her face and shuffled her feet.
"What'd they get?" he asked, all traces of sweet smile gone.
Her eyes flitted back to the carcass. "Deer."
He sighed. "There goes dinner."
She twisted her fingers in the hem of her shirt. "Yup." Inwardly she grimaced. Damn Daryl for putting the possibility in her mind.
Rick laid his stump on the rail and shifted towards her. "You alright?"
She cracked her knuckles. "Yeah, why?"
His smile was indulgent. "You seem jittery.
Her returning smile was bland. "I don't know why."
"Everything okay? Anything you want to talk about?"
Yes. "No, not really," she said in a higher pitch than normal.
A hint of concern flashed on his face through his bemused expression. He stepped closer to her. "If something is bothering you, you'd tell me, right?"
She pressed her cheek to her shoulder and folded her hands under her arms to hide their sudden shakiness. The pounding of her heart almost drowned out his words. Suddenly, she felt very far away and all too aware of her body's reaction to his nearness.
As she glanced up at him, she tried not to get lost in the sea of his eyes. If only he would make this easy on her and kiss her first. She could practically taste him, he was so close. This was her only chance. She couldn't fathom ever being this alone with him again.
"Nayna?"
She licked her lips and steeled herself. It was now or never. Raising herself up on tiptoe, she tilted her head back and pressed her mouth to his. As she kissed him, a wave of giddiness washed over her, and she had to swallow a nervous giggle.
A smile crossed her lips as his left hand cupped her shoulder and he rested his forearm on the other. Her smile faded when he gently pushed her away.
"Nayna," he sighed.
She shivered as if she'd been plunged into cold, cold water. That little sigh cut deep, piercing the fragile heart she kept locked away. She gritted her teeth as the inevitable Rick speech came, though his words were tunneled and hollow. Only one singular phrase stood out—"I don't feel that way about you."
She sucked in a sharp breath, cutting him off. Her fingers held the railing in a death grip as Rick rubbed his hand up and down her arm. He thought he was comforting her.
Swatting his hand away, she took a step back. "No."
All the adrenaline in the world couldn't save her now. All her quick thinking disappeared as her sluggish brain recycled her mother's voice, telling her she was stupid. Stupid for opening herself up. Stupid for allowing herself to fucking hope.
Stupid enough to listen to Daryl.
Rick brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. She jerked back.
"Nayna…" He reached out again and stroked her cheekbone with his thumb.
"Stop it!" She cried and slapped his hand away again.
He recoiled. "You're crying."
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
She swiped her eyes with the back of her wrist. "T-there's something in my eye."
"Hey, it's okay–"
She cleared her throat. "I've got a… thing. I'm just going to…"
Nayna fumbled for the door to the tower. Her hands shook too much for her to open it. She stood there, further humiliated, waiting for Rick to open it for her.
"Please." She whispered into the glass, almost too soft for him to hear. But he did, and he obliged her.
The last thing she heard before the tower door slammed shut behind her was his soft pitying voice whispering "Oh, Nayna."