Word about Daryl's father spread throughout the prison like wildfire and quickly became the next topic of juicy gossip. Goes to show you that even in the zombie apocalypse, people always find something to gossip about. Everyone knew who Daryl was, some even idolized him as if he was the prison's biggest celebrity, but none of them knew his story and that's the way he liked it. He wasn't proud of his past and had never wanted it to be brought up again. There were bets amongst the younger group members, everyone trying to guess who he had been before all this happened and why he had managed to settle here of all places, but no one had really come close to hitting at the heart of it. Daryl's Dad was a mean drunk who had never gotten over the death of his wife and blamed Daryl for surviving the fire. Richard beat the shit out of him and Merle, molested him, and never bothered to stock the cupboards so Daryl had to scavenge for food ninety percent of the time. His upbringing was rough but the only person who really knew how bad it was, was Rick. Daryl didn't talk about his past, most of them didn't, so no one really knew his story.

So when word got around that Daryl's father was here and there had been some kind of altercation, rampant accusations spread like melted butter. Some people, mainly the original prison group who knew at least a little about Daryl's past tried to settle the more outrageous rumors, but it didn't seem to work. The stories just got wilder and wilder as time went on and they showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. In block A they were throwing around the possibility of Richard being a serial killer, block E believed he had been an up and standing member of the KKK and a known skinhead, and in block F they entertained the idea of Richard being a member of the Chicago mob, how a member of the Chicago mob ended up all the way down here in Georgia no one knew.

Even the youngsters were speculating what Daryl's problem with his father was. They had heard from Judith that Richard was a bad man, so many of the kids believed Daryl was some sort of superhero intent on saving them from the bad guys. This theory only furthered the children's hero worship of him. All of them wanted to be just like him when they grew up. You had to give them credit for imagination, no matter how far off it was from the truth. Almost nobody got even remotely close to the truth, despite how outrageous their accusations seemed to be. Perhaps the idea of someone as strong and tough as Daryl being abused was incomprehensible, or maybe they just weren't willing to admit the possibility.

Rick might have been amused if it wasn't so infuriating. It'd been a day since Richard had been brought to the prison and they still hadn't done anything with him. He was being held in a cell, away from the general population, until they could come up with a clear plan to get rid of him. They couldn't kill him, even after all he had done most everyone thought that was too inhumane, but they couldn't let him go and risk the possibility of him returning. Rick still remembered that incident where Andrew had let a walker hoard loose in the prison, looking for revenge, and had indirectly cost the lives of Lori and T-Dog. He didn't want another Andrew situation but they couldn't just leave him locked up in a cell for the rest of his life. It was a cluster fuck of different ideas with various pros and cons to each one and Rick had never been so torn before over what should be done.

Rick knew Daryl better than anyone, Carol being a close second, and he could definitely tell when something was wrong with him. This entire situation was eating at Daryl, whether or not he wanted to admit it. He couldn't go anywhere without getting pitiful stares, as if he was the next charity case, and the whispers behind his back were loud enough to get anyone's attention. The constant bombardment of the gratified group had already been too much for Daryl to handle, and the fact that their attention on him now was focused primarily on the story between him and his father just made everything ten times worse. Daryl had had enough to deal with given his father's return, he really didn't need to deal with unwanted attention from people. Daryl was a private person. He kept his feelings bottled up and wore a mask of stability throughout every situation, no matter what it was. That was Daryl. He'd spent so many years pushing down his emotions and past until they were nothing but a tiny ball of pain, buried so far in the back of his mind Rick wasn't sure he'd ever be able to access it.

Daryl had never been good with attention. He didn't like to be touched by anyone he wasn't absolutely comfortable with; he didn't like anyone in his personal bubble; he couldn't stand it when people crowded around him and threw "thank yous" and "you're a hero" his way. To him, it didn't matter that he had saved all their lives more than once, it didn't matter that he had brought in most of the newcomers, it didn't matter that his solo hunting excursions basically fed the entire group, it didn't matter that he went above and beyond to provide for the hectic prison. Daryl didn't want to be thanked, didn't think he needed it. To him, that was just his job. He was the protector, the hunter, the one who rationalized every situation, Rick's right hand man. Daryl was the guy who didn't trust easily but once he did, you'd have a loyal friend no matter what happened. He knew he was important, especially to Rick and his kids, and he knew he was accepted. That was enough for him, he didn't need to be reminded of it.

Sure he would try to converse with everyone he ran into, but that didn't mean he was anymore social than he had always been. Daryl wasn't comfortable with anyone he didn't know well, all this attention had him feeling like a caged animal and if there was one thing you didn't do it was make Daryl feel caged. You'd be on the receiving end of one hell of an angry Dixon. As of now, Daryl couldn't go anywhere without speculating glances and whispered accusations. Everyone was talking about him and it wasn't going to be long before he snapped.

Finally, Rick had had enough. It was clear to him that Daryl needed to escape, get away from the prison for at least a few hours so he could clear his head. He knew if he didn't offer soon enough Daryl was just going to take off by himself, something that definitely wasn't a good idea in the state he was in. They weren't going to be gone long, only a few hours, but Rick still needed to make sure all their duties were taken care of before they left. Daryl was scheduled for tonight's dinner watch and Rick managed to switch his shift tonight with Tyreese's shift tomorrow, just in case their trip lasted longer than he intended it to. He had also asked Hershel to take over the remaining harvesting, something that he readily agreed to do. He could see the signs just as clear as Rick could, someone needed to get Daryl out of the prison before he exploded.

Once that was cleared away, Rick went in search of Carl. He found him in the yard playing with Judith and a few of the other younger kids. "Hey," he called, waving Carl over. Rick watched as Carl set Judith down and made his way over to where Rick was standing by the prison wall.

"What's up?" Carl asked once he was standing in front of his father.

"I need you to keep an eye on Judith for me and make sure everyone stays away from Richard's cell. Have Michonne or someone bring him some food but otherwise, leave him where he is. I don't want you or Judith going near him, I don't want anyone going near him unless it's to bring him food. The last thing we need is another outburst. I know it's highly unlikely something's gonna happen while we're gone but make sure the group doesn't decide what to do with him until we're back," Rick explained. As long as Richard remained behind bars everything should go smoothly, but he was beginning to understand the type of person Richard was and he wouldn't put it past him to try and start shit with the others in the prison.

Carl nodded, task easy enough for him to do. "You taking Daryl out?"

Rick nodded, not wanting to say much on the subject. "We shouldn't be gone long, couple of hours tops, but if we're gone longer don't worry."

"Consider it done," Carl said.

Rick smiled and clapped Carl on the shoulder. "I'll be back soon."

Carl nodded and retreated back over towards Judith. Judith looked up at Rick, slightly confused. She always felt she needed to know and understand everything that was going on around her, the girl was too curious for own good. Rick gave her a reassuring smile and she relaxed, going back to playing almost instantly. Even Judith, young as she was, could tell there was something wrong.

After making sure that all his and Daryl's duties were accounted for, he made his way in search of Daryl. He hadn't seen the man since they had parted ways this morning. Eventually he found him in the outside pavilion, standing next to Carol. The two of them were in front of the prison's makeshift grill, some sort of meat cooking, talking lowly to each other. Daryl laughed and Rick couldn't help but smile. There were a few people sitting at the tables near them, most of them whispering about Daryl's confrontation with his father. Daryl paid them no mind however, too engrossed in his and Carol's conversation to notice. Gotta love Carol, she had always been good at distracting Daryl.

"Hey," Rick said, coming up behind the two of them. He rested a hand on Daryl's lower back and Rick pretended not to notice the way he leant into his touch. "I'm going hunting, just thought I'd let you know."

"You're shit at hunting," Daryl said simply, turning around so he was facing him. Rick laughed.

"I know, that's why I'm asking you to come with me," Rick said and the resounding look of relief was worth every ounce of effort he had put into making this surprise hunting trip happen.

"Hell yeah," Daryl said. He picked up a piece of already cooked meat and tossed it in his mouth before handing one over to Rick. "Let's go."


Michonne walked towards where Richard was being kept, carrying a plate of food and a bottle of water. Carl had found her not that long ago and had asked her to take food to Richard, which she agreed to. She wasn't sure how good of idea it was to send one of the only black people at the prison to their racist charge, but it's not like they had many choices to begin with. They couldn't just ask anyone to take food to him, half the prison would be too invested in finding out what had happened between Daryl and Richard and Michonne wasn't going to let that happen. Daryl didn't want people to know about his demons and Michonne respected that.

It wasn't long before she made it to Richard's cell. The man was sitting on the bunk, staring out the window. What he was thinking about Michonne didn't care, probably didn't want to know if she was being honest. Richard turned his head once he heard footsteps and scoffed when he caught sight of Michonne.

"This place is overrun with mutts," Richard said, standing up. They had uncuffed his hands once he was inside the cell, no point in leaving them on him, and removed anything that could be used as a weapon.

Michonne had enough dignity to ignore him, she wasn't going to let some racist prick get under her skin. She had faced ignorance plenty of times before, no point in rising to the bait and giving the bigot the satisfaction of seeing her angry. "Brought you some food," she said without emotion, passing the plate and water bottle under the bars.

"I don't want food tainted by the likes of you," Richard spit, kicking the plate. The metal plate slid across the floor and sent the food flying everywhere.

"Really?" Michonne asked, disgust barely concealed. The insult wasn't what angered her, it was the blatant waste of food. They didn't have an unlimited supply of food and the fact that Richard felt like he could waste it pissed her off. They had a lot of people to feed, every bit of food needed to be utilized to keep everyone fed. They couldn't afford to waste anything. "Fine, don't eat. You can starve for all I care, it ain't hurting me none."

Michonne could tell Richard was starting to get frustrated with her lack of reaction, which just proved her point. Richard was an abusive asshole who said outrageous things because he wanted to get a reaction. He probably believed them, but that wasn't the point. He was just a lonely old man who used bitter words to get attention. Michonne found him pathetic, nothing more than a racist bastard.

"Can't believe my son's associating himself with people like you," Richard said and Michonne laughed, angering him even more. "I didn't raise no pussy, he ain't a real man."

"Daryl's more of a man than you will ever be," Michonne said, meaning every word she said. She'd heard stories of how Daryl was before, when Rick and them had first met up with him, and know that she had met his father it wasn't hard for her to understand why he had been that way. The past didn't matter anymore as far as she was concerned. All that mattered was the person you were today, and Daryl was a damn good man. He had saved her life more than once and she would always defend him.

Richard laughed loudly. "You don't know my son."

"Oh I don't?" Michonne said, stepping closer to the cell door. "Your son's the one who saved my life; he's the one who did everything he possibly could to get Judith the formula she needed when she was just days old; he's the one who hunts for this prison; he's the one who will do whatever it takes to provide for and protect his family. You can rant all you want about the man you think your son is, but you will never know him like I do. You lost that right long ago. Daryl is a damn good man, don't you fucking dare try and act like you know him."

Richard was speechless for a few seconds before he recovered. "Well look at you, tough bitch. You act like you're all hot shit, carrying that katana on your back. I bet you don't even know how to use it."

Michonne couldn't help but laugh. She was done with Richard, she didn't need to prove herself to him. Michonne turned around and headed down the hall. She was almost all the way down the hall when Richard spoke again.

"Hey," Richard called after her but Michonne ignored him. "Nigger, I'm talking to you."

Michonne froze instantly. It'd been so long since she had heard that word, it shocked her. She turned around, face nothing but a cool expression. "What do you want?" she said, voice as cold as ice.

Richard smiled, happy he had at least struck a chord with the woman. He was quiet for a second before he opened his mouth once more. "Do you know where Merle is?"

"He's dead," Michonne said, all sense of sympathy for this man gone. If he had been anyone else, Michonne would have felt bad. As far as she's concerned though, anyone who puts their hands on their kids is at the bottom of the totem pole. Richard didn't deserve her sympathies. With that, she turned around and stormed off down the hall.


"Rick, if ya don' shut the hell up yer gonna scare all the wildlife away," Daryl snarled. If it had been anyone else they'd probably be hurt but Rick knew Daryl, knew him well. He didn't mean what he said to come off as snippy.

"Thought you liked it when I spoke?" Rick asked, lowering his voice slightly. The two of them had been in the woods for only an hour and already Rick could see Daryl's entire demeanor changing. He was more comfortable, less stiff, and Rick was happy to see that.

"Ain't you a cocky one?" Daryl huffed.

"You love it," Rick said, running a hand down the back of Daryl's neck making him shiver.

Daryl blushed hotly and pulled away. "We're supposed to be hunting."

"I know," Rick said, pulling back. They'd already found a couple of squirrels but if they wanted to pull off a successful hunt they needed to find something bigger. "I couldn't resist."

The two of them were quiet for a while, relishing in the comfort they felt when it was just the two of them. Rick and Daryl didn't need talking to fill the silence, they were fine with just the comfort being alone with each other brought them. A few hours later they came across a deer and Rick froze in his tracks. He definitely wasn't a quiet person out here in the woods and he'd never forgive himself if he was the one to scare off the deer. He watched Daryl take a few steps closer, footsteps so silent they didn't make a sound, so he was in a better position. Daryl took his aim and drew back his crossbow, firing off a few bolts. The deer fell instantly.

Rick walked after Daryl and watched as he retrieved his arrows. He gutted the deer, making it easy for the two of them to haul back the meat, and prepared it for the short trek back to the prison. Soon enough they had a large deer and a few squirrels ready to be brought back. It was getting darker by the second and Rick knew they should probably head in soon. "It's a decent sized haul, we should probably head back by now," Rick commented and Daryl grunted his agreement. He was starting to become agitated again and Rick was sure it was because he wasn't ready to head back yet.

"Come sit with me," Rick said softly, taking Daryl's hand gently in his and pulled at him. Daryl followed him without a fight and the two of them sat resting against a large oak tree, the game they had caught just a few feet away. "You know," Rick said after a few seconds of silence, "you still haven't talked about it yet."

Daryl shrugged and picked up a nearby stick. He started to draw random patterns in the hard packed dirt beneath them. "What's there to say?"

"You're father showed up," Rick said, trying to think about the best way to go about this. He didn't want to push Daryl into talking before he was ready but he knew he needed to talk before he got back to the prison. If not, he was only going to keep everything bottled up until eventually he exploded. At least out here it was just the two of them. "And I know how horrible your childhood was."

"What do you want me to say? That my dad beat me? That he was a drunk who could hardly remember to pay the bills on time? My childhood was hell, end of story," Daryl said, probably harsher than he actually meant.

Rick sighed and rested a hand on Daryl's shoulder only for him to flinch away from his touch. It had been so long since Daryl had flinched from him Rick couldn't help but be a little surprised. "There's more to it than that, Daryl, don't tell me there isn't. Remember, we sleep together and you talk in your sleep. I know what he did to you, why it took so long for you to be comfortable with intimate touches, why you're still not comfortable with everything," Rick said.

Daryl had nightmares about his childhood sometimes. He'd thrash around in bed, waking up Rick, begging for someone to stop. It wasn't hard for him to figure out what he was dreaming about. Daryl would wake up, a crazed look in his eyes and sweat dripping off of him. Sometimes he'd be so confused he wouldn't know where he was. Then he'd catch sight of Rick and he'd relax almost instantly. Daryl would unconsciously maneuver himself closer to Rick and he'd take the man in his arms, whispering softly until he fell back asleep. He never once asked what the nightmares were about, something that Daryl was grateful for, but it was easy enough for him to figure them out.

Daryl tensed up. "You said you were okay with that," Daryl said, tone almost accusatory.

"And I am. That's not what this relationship is about to me, Daryl. It's more than just sex. I care about you and I don't care how long it takes for you to be able to further things along, I'm fine with what we're able to do now. We're together and that's all that will ever matter to me," Rick said, completely honest. Sure he got horny, he was human after all, but he was fine settling his urges with his hand. He didn't need Daryl to do it for him. Their relationship was built on trust and companionship, not desire and sex.

"What if I'm never okay with going further?" Daryl spoke so quietly that Rick could barely hear him.

"Look at me," Rick said, lifting Daryl's face up towards him and for once, Daryl didn't protest. Rick didn't care if his actions seemed sappy, he needed Daryl to understand him. "I don't care if you're never okay with it. I love you for you, not for what sex you can provide me with. We've been together for a long time now and I've never, not once, asked you to do anything you weren't comfortable with. What we've done so far is good enough for me. All I want is for you to let me in. You've been pushing down your emotions for so long I don't even know if you know what you're feeling."

"He can't stay here Rick," Daryl said frantically, on the verge of panicking. "I don't want him here. I can't go near him without thinking of what he did to me and I feel like such a worthless pussy. I'm a grown ass man and it's been years since he's done anything, I should be able to handle it."

"He's gone tomorrow," Rick said, his words final. "We'll take him out so far out he won't be able to find his way back." He had accepted the fact that he couldn't kill Richard, the only other option was to make him leave. "Everyone reacts differently Daryl, it doesn't matter how much time has passed. Bottling everything up inside is never going to help, it's just going to hurt you. You need to talk, I don't care who it is as long as you're talking. This thing you're doing, it's dangerous. I get it Daryl, believe me I do. You feel like you have to be the strong one, the one who everyone depends on, the one who can handle anything at any time. You're forgetting you're human, you're not invincible. Pain affects you just as much as it affects everyone, it's time you let someone in."

Daryl didn't speak for a long time and Rick almost came to the conclusion that he never would, until he opened his mouth and everything just spewed from him. "He hurt me, Rick, in ways that I don' even fully understand. From the time my Mama died, he was different. I don' think he ever got over her death and 'cause I was in the house when the fire started and survived, he blamed me. He treated me and Merle like hell. It wasn't so bad at first, but then Merle left and everythin' got so much worse. You've seen my scars, you know what he's done. He'd, he'd beat me with his belt until my back was a bloody mess of torn skin. Sometimes he'd wrap his hands around my throat and squeeze until I almost passed out. He'd come into my room at night, so drunk he could barely walk, and he'd…. he'd molest me. For years I wanted to die, contemplated how I would do it. I came so close so many times 'm surprised 'm still standing here.

"I'm scared, I'm angry, I'm hurt, I'm confused, I'm a mixture of so many different emotions right now it's disorienting," Daryl said, breathing starting to pick up. Rick reached out and took Daryl's hand in his, running his fingers over the callused skin in an attempt to calm him down. "I wanna kill him," Daryl snarled. "I wanna watch the life leave his eyes. Everythin' he done to me, what he said 'bout Judith, I can't think straight when I think about it. I think of all the kids at the prison, not jus' Judith, and I know they aren't safe with him there, no one is safe when he's there. But, at the same time, I don't want to kill him. He's a monster and I want him to rot in hell, if there's even a hell, for all eternity, but I don' think I can kill him. After everything he's done to me, I don't want him to die and that's the most disturbing bit of this. I wish he had never shown up."

By now Daryl's breathing is so fast Rick isn't sure if he's even taking in any air. He's on the verge of a panic attack and Rick sprang into action right away. "Daryl," Rick said, taking Daryl's face into his hands and turning it to look at him. "You need to calm down. Match my breathing, okay? In and out, in and out," Rick said, taking slow, deep breaths.

Daryl copied him, breathing quick and ragged at first but eventually slowing to match Rick's. Once Rick was sure Daryl was calmed down enough he wouldn't switch into panic mode he spoke again. "You've had all that bottled up inside for so long, it was just waiting to spill out. I don't know what kind of man you see yourself as Daryl, but let me tell you what I see. I see a man who survived hell and changed his ways. I see a man who's become so strong and so reliable I could depend on him for anything. I see a man who became a father to my kids when I was at my lowest. I see a man loved and trusted by every single person at that prison. I see a man who has risked his life more than once to protect others. I see a friend, a brother, a father, a lover, I see the strongest man I have ever met, Daryl. That's the kind of man you are and I don't care what your father or anyone else says, I'm so glad I've gotten the pleasure of loving you. I'm always going to be here to talk," Rick said, not needing to say anything more than that. Daryl knew Rick was always going to be there for him, he didn't need to spend hours professing his feelings.

"Thanks, Rick," Daryl said softly. "I doubt you know how much this means to me." Rick just nodded and the two of them sat side by side. He had a pretty good idea about what this meant to Daryl. It meant he didn't have to do anything alone, it meant that he always had someone he could confide in, it meant that Rick wasn't just going to up and leave because Daryl couldn't 'put out.'

"I know why you did this," Daryl said, gesturing to their kills. "You wanted to get me out of the prison, and I thank you for that."

Rick nodded, he didn't need to say anything because Daryl knew. "It's getting pretty dark," Rick said, looking up at the dark sky above them. "We should probably head back now."

Daryl nodded and stood up. The two of them gathered their animals and headed back towards the prison. Rick noticed Daryl looked a hell of a lot more relaxed then he had before they left, and that made the entire trip worth it.


Tyreese was on watch when they returned. Daryl had tried to take over for him, after all it had been his in the first place, but Tyreese refused. Daryl had protested but once again, Tyreese had refused. "I'll finish up for you," he had said, so Daryl and Rick hauled their catch inside and began to skin it.

"You're still shit at this," Daryl said with a smile as Rick attempted to skin one of the squirrels. No matter how hard Daryl tried to teach him, Rick never seemed to get the hang of anything that involved cleaning animals.

"I'm still shit at everything," Rick said good-naturedly.

"Not at everything," Daryl said seriously. Rick bumped him with his hip and continued to butcher his skinning job. Daryl was about to say something once more but Carl walked by carrying a plate of food.

"Hey, everything go good?" Rick asked.

"Yeah," Carl said, unconvincingly. "Sort of. Michonne went to give Richard food earlier today but he refused to eat it if she brought it. She didn't say much, but from the way she came storming back I figured it had to have been pretty bad. I'm gonna take him a new plate before-"

"No," Daryl said quickly, cutting Carl off.

"What do you mean no? I'm all for not feeding the asshole if that's what you want, but he hasn't eaten in who knows how long," Carl said.

"It's not that, I'll take it. I don't want you around him." The thought of Carl coming into contact with his father was not something he wanted to think about. Carl was practically a man now, but he wasn't going to give his father the opportunity to say anything to him. He cared about him too much to put him in that position.

"You want company?" Rick asked.

Daryl was so tempted to say yes, admit that everything would be easier if Rick was there. But he didn't want that. He couldn't rely on Rick to fix all his problems and this was something that he alone had to do. "No, I'll be okay."

"I'll stay here," Carl said, handing over the plate of food in his hand. "Just to make sure Dad doesn't ruin the meat."

"I'm not that terrible," Rick exclaimed with a laugh and the two of them started bickering back in forth, all in good spirit.

Daryl took that as his cue to leave, plate in hand. He made his way towards where his father was being held in a relatively deserted section of the prison.

It wasn't long before Daryl reached the cell. Richard was sitting on the floor as he stared at the wall, seemingly lost in thought. What he was thinking Daryl would never know, didn't want to know. "Here," Daryl said briskly, pushing the plate underneath the bars. He saw the plate from earlier on the floor, food scattered everywhere, and he was pissed. Not only had he refused the food Michonne brought, but he also had the audacity to scatter it across the room. They couldn't afford someone being so wasteful.

"Darleena," Richard said with a cheerful smile and Daryl grit his teeth. He absolutely hated when his father referred to him as such. "Long time no see."

"I'm only here to deliver your food, that's it. I don't want anything to do with you," Daryl said, turning around to head down the hall.

"Wait, I just got one question for you," Richard said.

Daryl stopped, but didn't turn around. He was willing to listen but he wasn't going to act like he was engrossed in what his father had to say. "What?"

"I didn't raise you to be like this, running around with chinks and niggers and faggots. Where the hell did my son go?" Daryl couldn't tell if he was being serious or if he just wanted to get a rise out of him. Either way, it didn't matter. He was pissed.

"He's dead," Daryl said as he spun around, spit flying out of his mouth from the force of his words. "You did a shitty ass job of raising me. Whatever twisted version of reality you're clinging to don't matter. That son you keep talking about? The one you 'raised'? He died a long time ago, and he don't want nothing to do with you. These are good people, my people, and you've done nothing but insult them since you got here. You scared my kid, you insulted Michonne, and you've been trying to mock the relationship that me and Rick have since the moment you saw us.

"I don't care what you think anymore and I am tired of living under your thumb. It took me a while but I changed, for the better might I add. This prison," Daryl said, gesturing towards the walls around them, "is my family. This is where I belong. I never had a home before, and I finally found one with these people. It's wherever Rick and Carol and Judith and Carl and Michonne and Tyreese and Glenn and Maggie and Hershel and Beth and Sasha and everyone in this damn prison are. And yes, there's a large mix of different people. Some are Black and Asian and gay and Mexican, but I don't care. I'm so past caring. I'd give my life for any one of these people at the prison here because they deserve to live, regardless of who they may love or what color their skin is.

"Now I don't care if you eat your food or you throw it across the room, do whatever you want. It doesn't matter because I'm swearing to you right now, you'll be gone by sun down tomorrow," Daryl said. For once, Richard was absolutely speechless, an aspect that Daryl was happy to see. Daryl had stood up to his father, and he had never felt more empowered. He turned on his heel and left, ignoring the angry calls of his father.

It wasn't long before he was out of view of his father's cell and he stopped, leaning up against the wall. He was angry, so fucking angry. He'd worked so hard to change the person he used to be, to be a better person. But all he could think about was his past, about the person he used to be, and it made him angry. He hated his father for coming in and ruining everything. He let out a groan of frustration and punched the nearest wall. He heard his hand crack against the cement wall and pain erupted throughout his hand, but he didn't care. He glanced down at his knuckles and noticed they were bloody. He ripped a scrap off from his shirt and wrapped it around his fingers, tying it off tightly. He felt calm all of a sudden, the slight pain in his knuckles helping to ground him and he found the ability to keep walking.

He was tempted to go back to where Carl and Rick were, but he didn't want to run into anyone else. He was sick and tired of anything to do with his Father. He didn't want to talk anymore. He was tired and wanted to sleep. Daryl took the long way back to his and Rick's cell, trying to avoid running into anyone. It was getting late so most everyone was inside by now.

Twenty minutes later he was in their cell. He toed off his boots and slipped off his jacket, setting his crossbow down on the table next to the bed. Daryl crawled into bed and scooted all the way to the side closest to the wall. In seconds he was asleep, absolutely exhausted.


By the time Rick and Carl were done prepping and storing the meat he and Daryl had caught, it was fairly late. Carl headed off to bed almost immediately but Rick went around the prison to make sure everyone was accounted for. Judith was already in bed sound asleep when Rick went to check on her. He watched her for a few seconds before he returned to his own cell.

Quietly he stepped into the cell. He had looked for Daryl while he was accounting for the rest of the prison and when he didn't find him, he figured he had already returned to their cell. Sure enough, Daryl's boots were sitting beside the bed and the hunter was curled up fast asleep. Rick was quiet as kicked off his shoes and took of his jacket, not wanting wake up the already asleep archer.

"Rick?" Daryl asked sleepily as Rick slipped into bed beside him.

"Hey," Rick said softly, resting a comforting hand on Daryl's hip once he was settled. "Everything go okay?"

Daryl just nodded and Rick could tell he didn't want to talk about it right then. "All good," he said, cupping Rick's neck with his hand.

Rick smiled and turned his head so he could press a kiss against the inside of Daryl's wrist. He noticed the makeshift bandage on his hand and couldn't help but ask, "What happened?"

"Punched a wall," Daryl mumbled softly, not willing to go into any more detail right then.

Rick could tell he didn't want to talk about it so he didn't ask what had happened. "Promise you'll have Hershel look at it tomorrow? Let him re-bandage it," Rick asked, rubbing a thumb across the skin of his hip.

Daryl nodded and rested his head on Rick's shoulder, pressing a soft kiss against his shoulder. "Thank you," he said quietly. "Thank you for everything you've done for me today."

Rick smiled and brushed the hair out of Daryl's eyes. "That's my job, I take it very seriously."

Daryl laughed softly and sighed. Rick could tell he was still exhausted.

"You're tired," Rick said. "Sleep now, Daryl."

Daryl nodded and debated with himself momentarily before he spoke again. "Love ya."

"I love you," Rick said and within seconds, they were both asleep.