Daryl wakes up because of this annoying beeping.
It won't stop.
Like an alarm clock.
Time to get up.
But...
It's been years since he heard an alarm clock.
It's been years since he had to get up in time to go to work.
There is no work. There are walkers.
The beeping increases.
He tries to open his eyes, but the lids are so heavy.
He feels weak, tired. His chest hurts.
In a distance, he hears soft voices. Two women. He tries to listen, but he can't concentrate. The voices sound familiar, like well-loved memories. He hears the words, but he doesn't get the meaning. Is it really him?
Yes, it's a miracle.
You have to tell him.
He just had a heart attack.
He can't be that old.
Years of running, years of malnutrition, the constant fear, all that is pure stress.
But still, he has to know.
First he has to recover.
He groans. The beeping continues.
A cool hand touches his forehead. The touch is soothing, comforting. Nice.
A soft voice whispers: "Sleep, Pookie."
And so he does.
The beeping slows down again.
The next time he wakes up, the room, he is in, is dim.
A small lamp on a nightstand tries to displace the darkness. The bed, he lies in, is comfortable. It smells clean. It's nice to be in a proper bed. The annoying beeping is still there. And there are cables, leading to his chest.
His chest. His torso. Covered in so many different scars. His chest hurt and his head feels fuzzy.
He considers to cover his naked chest, but every movement seems exhausting.
He isn't so self conscious about his scars as he used to be. Nowadays, in this brave new world, everybody has scars, both on the in- and outsides. In a world full of flesh eating walkers, there is no room for modesty. He remembers how hastily he covered himself up at Hershels farm. He didn't want Carol to see them.
Carol!
He saw her before he passed out.
The beeping increases.
Something on the right side of his bed stirs.
"Daryl?" Her voice is sleep laced, but he would recognize it everywhere and always. "You have to calm down."
"Carol?" he croaks. What the ... How could he calm down, when she is here.
Her cool hand strokes the side of his face. She stands besides his bed, smiles down at him and he feels, like he would black out again.
"It really is me. But you must stay calm. You had a heart attack yesterday. Our doc worked on you, you should recover fully, but it takes time. You need to rest. We'll talk later."
His hand find hers, their fingers intertwine and he refuses to let go, even as sleep claims him again.
The next morning, Carol is still at his side. Sitting on a chair next to his bed, holding his hand. Her thumb draws small circles on the insides of his wrist.
Her smile is bright.
God, how much he loves her.
"Good morning, sleepyhead. How do you feel?"
He considers and shrugs his shoulders. "Sore. Overwhelmed. Confused. Hungry. I don't know."
Carol nods. "You had a heart attack. But our Doc is sure, you'll soon recover completely."
Daryl looks at her, stunned. She looks older. But even more beautiful.
"You're here", he whispers hoarsly.
Carol closes her eyes, fighting tears.
"Yes, I'm here. And so are you."
"I thought you were dead. I thought, I would never see you again. I hated Rick for what he did to you."
"Are you still with him?"
He lowers his eyes in shame. "Yes", he simply says.
"Hey, I get it. They are family. Better stick to the ones you know."
"But it never was the same again. I could never trust him again, like I did before. And he made some more remarkably bad decisions."
Carol's smile is weak. "How are the others? Please let them be ok."
"Carl is grown up. He's passionate, fierce, brave. Maggie and Glen have a son. Michonne and Rick have a daughter." Only the good news. He can give her only the good news. He won't tell her about the bloody car seat without Judith. He won't tell her how the governor killed Hershel. Or how he lost Beth. Maybe later. But not now.
"Rick and Michonne? I didn't see that coming." There is a short flicker of something in her eyes. "And you? Are you with someone?"
He thinks of Rosita, beautiful Rosita, flexible and sexy. They are friends. Well, friends with benefits. But it is only for fun, for release. For both of them. They are family, not romantic lovers. "No, there is nobody."
Maybe it is relief in her eyes.
"And there are kids?! That's wonderful."
"Yeah. By the way, those kids of yours are pretty impressive. They saved my life."
"They are great. I'm so glad to have them in my life."
It should be awkward, to sit and talk with Carol. But it isn't, Daryl feels an oddly sense of peace in her presence.
He touches the cables, leading to his chest. "You have a real doctor here?"
Carol nods: "He used to work in Atlanta Grady Hospital. He's good. You are in capable hands."
"I know."
He looks down on their hands, still clasped together.
"It looks like a real hospital in here."
"It is a real hospital."
"And you have electricity here. On the entire site?"
"You are quite curious for a convalescent. When you are better, I'll show you everything. There is so much, you ought to know! But right now, you should rest."
"One more question, please." It seems to be important for Daryl, even so Carol can see the deep fatigue in Daryl's eyes, he wants an answer to his question.
"Spill."
"Is there someone in your life?"
She smiles. This wonderful Carol-smile, that can light up an entire room.
"No, Pookie. There is no one in my life."
He closes his eyes and sleep takes over again.