Daryl bolted awake, his dreams getting the better of him again. He whipped his legs over the bed, knocking over his crossbow, scaring himself. Carol who had taken the bunk over him, jolted up with him, scared by the noise.
"What's wrong?" she whispered from above.
"Nothing," he lied. "Go back to bed."
But of course, she didn't. She used the small ladder to come down and stare at him, sitting next to him on the bed. Carol noticed everything, even in the dark. She touched him, noticing he was sweating, she felt his heartbeat and knew it was going too fast.
"Nightmares again?" she whispered, holding his hand.
He nodded, then remembered she couldn't see that, and whispered. "Yeah, Merle..."
She held his hand tighter, and he felt brave in the darkness despite his state, and brought it up to his lips and kissed it. She was here, and he was okay, but his brother was dead, and now, so was a piece of him. Because no matter how much Merle pissed him off, he was his brother, and he was family.
"I'm so sorry." she kissed his shoulder.
"Me too." he sighed, refusing to cry again. "Just wish I could stop seeing it."
"I know. Soon you will, I promise."
He turned his head and found her lips in the darkness, kissing them softly, trying to make his pain go away. It did a little, because at least, through all of this, they were awake and breathing, and for now that had to be enough.