A/N: I don't feel the story needed anything more, but I wrote this and decided to post it anyway.
Daryl slept. Deeply and for hours.
Carol sat on the bed beside him, her hand on his arm, thumb rubbing gently back and forward.
Rick sat on the chair by the door, just thinking things through. How damn lucky they were to find him again in this world.
He felt slightly lighter now the weight lifted from his shoulders, seeing this man again, in their fold, but then the guilt took hold.
And as he watched him sleeping, noticed how much leaner he was. When he'd first seen him, Rick had wanted to ask him how he'd survived and where he'd been, what had happened, but he could see the man's exhaustion, his hunger.
And so they'd bought him food, and told him their story. Where they had been and how they had survived.
Then Alma came to them, seeking Daryl. Told him she'd found a place he could rest. And the others thanked her, but insisted they had room with them. He was part of their group.
And before he knew it, Carol was leading Daryl back. Back to their home here. Rick followed them, leaving the others to get their food.
And the place was small but self contained enough that it worked for the group. There were only two double beds and they took turns, rotating nightly. There was a crib for Judith.
And Daryl's composure crumbled a little at that, because Beth hadn't been there with the others, she'd been with Judith changing her and of course Daryl had noticed she was missing but he never said a word and with their joy at finding Daryl again, they never thought to tell him otherwise.
And Rick had to look away as Daryl did his best to keep check of his emotions. Then Carol was moving Daryl towards one of the beds and he was letting her because he needed too. Needed to rest and to let go.
And once he was sleeping, she told Rick she wouldn't allow him to wake up alone and he should go and eat. So he did and then he went back. He took back a small bowl of leftovers for Daryl for when he woke up.
In his mind, Rick just kept berating himself. I should have gone back, I should have looked harder for him, I should never have given up on him...
His mistakes kept piling up, along with the bodies of those that he loved and he just knew he had to be thankful that this time, nobody was dead.
Soon enough, Carol carefully slipped off the bed and went for food herself. And Daryl stirred, woke. But he stayed still and unmoving until he heard the door close.
His eyes opened and he quickly located Rick. They hadn't left him. He sat up.
And he took in his surroundings, once he knew he wasn't alone. The way the room seemed to be filled with cupboards and make-shift shelves, and everything in the room seemed crammed in.
And once he finished, Rick passed the bowl of food to him. A simple shrug, an apology. He knew it wasn't much. And Daryl nodded, a flicker of a smile touching his lips as he quickly devoured the food.
And when Rick reached for the bowl, to remove it, Daryl grabbed his wrist instead. And Daryl's fingers grasped Rick, like he was searching for something and Rick was watching Daryl's hand move over his wrist, at first unclear about what he was doing. And then when Daryl's fingers reached round enough, when they were underneath Rick's thumb, he knew.
His pulse.
Reassuring himself because he didn't quite dare to really believe it still.
And from Daryl's other hand, Rick took the bowl he still held and placed it to one side, before he sat in the same spot Carol had just left, Daryl still holding onto him.
And he sat beside him, shoulders touching.
Not speaking a word.