Chapter Four

It is quiet, quieter than it has been in a long time. Everyone around the prison is stricken, worn down and devastated by the tiny cracks that crept into their peaceful enclave. There is nothing to say about it, nothing to reflect on. It's just tragic and fucked up.

Zach is dead and the run they'd been planning for weeks—the one that was supposed to provide a major surge in their supplies—had gone to complete shit.

But one thing feels right at this late hour: the body laying next to him in his bed.

This is a first for them. Their romps were always done in secret in some tucked away corner of the prison; they'd never committed to more than a casual conversation in each other's company when it came to their personal spaces. But tonight, he needs something and Michonne is there to provide it, openly and exposed.

They have also never lingered this long after having sex. They might take a few moments to get their bearings and allow their bodies to calm and cool off from what was always an energetic and physically demanding coupling. But after a few minutes, one or the other, but usually both of them, would quickly dress and return to whatever business they'd been about before their recreational diversion.

Tonight, though, they hold each other loosely, Daryl allowing his fingers to skim along the skin of her back that so turns him on. She, in turn, leans into him, not quite cuddled up to him but oh so close, overlapping slightly. Her arm is around him, dangled in lazy repose across his abdomen. The connection is different and new but it's nice too.

And with her, something new always means her time at the prison is growing short.

"You headin' out tomorrow?" If there's more bite to the question than usual, he can mask its presence behind so many other reasons besides the truth of his attachment to her.

Michonne closes her eyes and breathes softly into his arm. "Yeah." He can't stop the tension from gripping his muscles momentarily and she picks up on it as well. "Not Macon," she clarifies. "There are a few spots I keep on my radar and I'll check those out. I'd rather stay close." She doesn't mention why but he knows it's because of their scare today.

Daryl purses his lips but keeps quiet, glad she can't see the protest biting at the edges of his attention. In his mind, if she wants to stay close, she may as well just stay here. She won't want to hear that, though, and he isn't about pissing her off when he'd rather she continue to lay right where she is for the time being.

They remain in that position for some time, Michonne seeming uninterested in returning to her room and Daryl having no desire to kick her out. After a while, she closes her eyes and he studies her pretty face as it rests at his shoulder. She traces a scar at his side to let him know she is not sleeping, just resting.

"Hope you hurry back," he offers.

I miss you when you're gone, he wants to add but doesn't.

She squeezes him and leans over to kiss his chest, then his neck and finally his lips, a touch he holds on to for a few beats as he has his fill. When he releases her, she returns to lay at his shoulder and he closes his eyes along with her.

Every day he searches for ways to distract himself from the rot of the world around them. If he wants to stay sane, he needs to occupy his energy and give his day meaning so that he can keep pushing forward and help others do the same. Being on the Council and stepping up at the prison means reminding people that no matter how bad things get, they still have something to strive for.

Somehow, some way, she's becoming that for him. And the acceptance of it is scary, but not as much as he thought it'd be. Daryl is sure if he can get her to stick around for more than a few hours, she'll accept it too.

He'll make her see it.

Until then, he's glad she's here right now to keep him busy.

End