Chapter 4: Home Again
The return back to the prison was as uneventful as it always was. Carol and Carl pulled the chain-link fence out of the way so that the car could enter, then pushed it closed once more. Glenn met them at the courtyard to help unload everything, anxiously rifling through the bags to see what the two men had been able to scrounge up in the way of medicine for Maggie. He was grateful for what they had managed to find, of course, but raised an eyebrow at the packages of feminine hygiene products.
"Won't Mags and Beth be needin' them soon, Chinaman?" Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulder and smirked at Glenn, seeing where the Korean's stare was directed. He had taken to calling Glenn 'Chinaman' as a kind of inside joke from all the times had had to correct Daryl and Merle on his race. Glenn was used to the light teasing now, even though it used to bother him greatly. He had changed since Maggie had entered his life; things that had once bothered him didn't seem to anymore, though the same could be said for the vice versa.
"Yes, I'm sure Maggie will be needing them soon enough." Glenn overemphasized his not-quite-official wife's name, giving Daryl a look of playful indignance, and stalked off back to the cells the group called home. He had other matters to attend to besides the banter that he normally would have engaged in with Daryl.
Daryl looked over at Rick, rolling his eyes before anyone around them could notice. Rick gave a slight shake of his head, not as an admonishment, but as an agreement, and they both smiled briefly.
"Glad to see you both made it back safely." Carol had made her way across the yard and over to Daryl's side where she placed a hand lightly on his lower back. Though she seemed to have been speaking to both men, she looked only at Daryl as she said it, and everyone around knew that, though she was being polite to Rick, she really only cared for her angel's safety. Daryl threw Rick another glance, and Rick could read the panic in his eyes that no one else would notice.
Daryl placed his arm around Carol's shoulders, a gesture he wouldn't normally succumb to in front of others, or at all, unless he knew her feelings would be hurt if he didn't. Her face beamed at his touch, her smile growing wider over her cheeks. God, this was difficult, having to pretend everything was the same as always, knowing that he was just leading her on, and would eventually crush her.
Daryl dropped his arm after a moment, masking his feelings by grabbing a few bags in each hand. "Got caught up in a small herd 'a walkers. Ain't nothin' a Dixon and a Grimes can't handle." His tone was light, the same monotone it always bore, but the conversation seemed strained. After a year of everyone living in the same area with nothing to do but talk you ran out of things to talk about, unless you were into sharing personal stories, which Daryl wasn't. His memories had been turned into physical reminders by his father, the stories all laid out in the multiple scars on his back; he saw no reason to revisit them and emotionally scar the others as much as he had been scarred.
Daryl turned and walked into the prison, winding his way through the hallways and various entryways to the kitchen, where they had taken to putting all of their supplies, to unload the bags.
Carol looked up at Rick, concern and curiosity furrowing her brow. If anyone could tell when something was wrong with Daryl, other than Rick, it was her.
"Is he alright?" She partially whispered, taking a step closer to the sheriff so that no one else would hear them.
"He's fine. He hasn't said much all day. He's probably just tired or hungry, or something along those lines. I don't think he's been sleeping well lately, and it's not like any of us really get enough food in this place, you know?" Rick was doing it again, the babbling. He really needed to rein that in before someone picked up on it.
Carol simply nodded and plodded back to the guard tower where she usually took watch, while Rick closed the van's trunk door. He planned to go to the group's cell area for a few minutes, maybe check on Maggie, and probably ask Hershel what he thought was wrong, away from Glenn, of course. But when Rick stepped into their common area he happened to look up to where Daryl spent his nights; up in his perch Daryl stood with his head in his hands, eyes focused on nothing in particular as he stared out the window.