Healing was slow. Sara saw to it that Daryl stayed in bed for an entire week. She was deaf to his pleading, his anger, and wise to his hunter's cunning, all of which returned once the fever abated and the pain receded to manageable levels.
Sara made sure Daryl was never left alone during that first week. He'd get agitated and argue with everyone else about not being allowed out of bed, but when Sara came back he would always calm down. As soon as her small hand came to rest on his arm or neck he'd stop struggling to stand up from the side of the bed and would let her help him back under the covers.
All of this came later, however. For the first 24 hours Sara was sure he would die, that his injuries were too severe, and that they had been out there too long. The only person she shared this conviction with was Rick, but everyone could feel their fear, the pain in their leader and the grief in the strange little doctor. The others gave the three of them their space. Everyone was heartbroken.
But they did what they could to help. Glenn and Maggie carried their home-made double bed up to Sara's cell, which, being the most remote place in the cell block, would give Daryl the quiet he needed. The big bed would make caring for him easier. Fresh linen, blankets and pillows were donated, and it gave Sara a lump in her throat to realize how much Daryl was valued. He has no idea how much they love him, she thought. He had to pull through, even if it was just for that.
Then they all waited.
Sara left the cell only twice in the first 48 hours to quickly use the bathroom. Rick stayed with her as much as he could stand it, and acted as liaison with the rest of the group. The hunter's injuries, untreated for hours, had caused infection and fever. Daryl didn't regain consciousness while the fever raged, but he was often restless in his delirium and pain. The only person who could calm him then was Rick. Not even Sara's soothing fingers, her calm voice, her presence that Daryl had taken to so easily was enough in those moments.
Coming back to the cell after some errand Rick stopped in the doorway and watched Daryl writhe in pain and indistinct fear. Sara, looking despondent and afraid, threw up her hands and turned away. "He won't calm down. The pain will only get worse if he doesn't lie still, and I'm scared he'll start bleeding again."
Rick went over to the bed and put his hand on Sara's shoulder briefly. Then he climbed onto the mattress. "Shh, buddy… 's ok, don't fret. I know it hurts, but you got no need to be frightened. We're here."
Continuing in that vein in a low voice Rick let Sara help him pull the hunter against his chest. Feeling the fever burn through his man he stroked his neck gently and murmured soothingly all the while. And at long last Daryl gave a deep sigh, rested his head against Rick's shoulder, and fell asleep.
That first night Sara climbed into bed next to Rick, who was drowsing, still holding a sleeping Daryl, and went to sleep for the first time next to the two men, a place that would soon feel as natural to her as sleeping alone had been for so long.
Time slowed, the world narrowed. Sara forgot that there was a prison full of people around them. Her days were measured by the regular appearances of Hershel, who would come to help her change bandages and administer medication. Her sole focus was on the man on the bed, pale and wan and exhausted, and every hour of undisturbed rest, every little indication that his pain was abating was a victory. The first time Daryl woke and recognized her Sara wept with relief.
"Don't," he whispered. "Don' cry…"
They continued to keep quiet watch as Daryl gained strength day by day. Sara insisted on giving him painkillers even when he protested he didn't need them any more. She could see in his eyes that he was being less than truthful. "You don't deserve to be in pain," she said after one of those exchanges. "Don't suffer for no purpose. It hurts us too, y'know."
Daryl looked at her, then at Rick, his soul so full of emotion he couldn't speak. So this was what it was like to be wanted and cared for, for no other reason than that these two people loved him. He'd known it, in his head, that he was important to Rick, and to the group, but with her there he could accept it with his heart too. He'd never known that he had wanted this, but now he couldn't understand how he had lived without this feeling.
