Ch. 14
It turned out that Hershel was correct. There was a cafeteria, and there was some non-perishable food left in it. Mainly canned goods, sacks of flour, sugar, baking supplies. There were even bags of coffee and tins of tea bags. David remembered Maria saying something about the cafeteria food being contracted out; it looked like most of those businesses cooked on premises.
The topping on the cake was the generator that Glenn had come across. Everyone had to admit that they'd really scored with finding this place. At the very least, they could power one of the electric stoves and some lights at night.
Maggie and Glenn set about making lunch, trying to pull something together using the ingredients that they had. David went off to check on Elena.
He found his little girl sitting on a bed while Beth braided her hair. The baby was asleep in a drawer that had been pulled out and lined with pillow cases.
"Daddy!", she squealed, seeing David enter the room.
Beth glanced up at him and smiled.
"Beth's braiding my hair! Like mommy used to!" The little girl explained.
David smiled at his daughter.
"You look beautiful," he told her, giving her a kiss on the forehead.
Then he turned to Beth.
"Thank you for this. For watching her," he said. Now that there was light, he got a better look at the girl. She was quite pretty and seemed to be pretty close to his own age.
"It's no problem," Beth replied, "I'm just finishing up. Welcome to the group, by the way. We're an odd bunch but we get along pretty well."
"I'm grateful to be here. You're Maggie's sister, right?"
David knew the answer, but wanted to make conversation.
"Yeah, I am. Hershel's my father."
"How do you know everyone else?"
"Well," she started, "It's kind of a long story."
David took a seat on the bed while Beth finished Elena's braid. The little girl crawled over to her father and sat on his lap.
"I've got time," David answered.
00
Elsewhere in the hospital, Hershel had left Daryl to check on Rick. He took along some of the medicine that David and Maggie had found. A few bottles of Xanex and Zoloft, and, miraculously, some Clozapine. If he could convince Rick to take it, it could definitely help.
Thankfully, Hershel caught him during one of his more lucid moments. Seeing the older man enter, Carl stepped away. It would be great if Hershel could help his father somehow, but he tried not to hold out any hope.
"Rick," the older man greeted him. "How are you?"
Rick shrugged.
"I gotta piss."
"Alright. How are you feeling besides that, though?"
Rick knew what Hershel was getting at. He was aware of what had been happening - of the psychotic breaks that he'd been having. He rarely remembered them, but the fact that he was handcuffed to a bed told him that he'd had another.
"Right now, fine. Normal. But I guess...I'm sorry about this morning. For whatever I did, Hershel. I really am."
Rick seemed sincere. Hershel nodded in understanding.
"It's not your fault, son. How about I unlock the handcuffs and let you use the bathroom, then we can talk. That sound fair?"
Rick nodded hesitantly, nervous about what the older man might want to discuss. He was a burden on the group and he knew it. He wondered if they would tell him to leave - make him and Carl move on out. He tried not to show it but a knot of worry was forming in his stomach.
Hershel motioned for Carl to come over and took the key from the boy, then unlocked Rick's cuffs. He helped the man out of bed, and, once assured that Rick could walk alright on his own, let him go.
While Rick was gone, Hershel turned to the boy.
"If you want, Glenn and Maggie made some lunch. Not sure what it is, but you're probably hungry… you can go down and get some. I'll make sure your dad is taken care of."
Carl stared at him for a moment, mentally deciding what to do. He always felt wary of letting his father out of his sight, but Hershel was capable, and his dad seemed to be pretty okay, at least right then. Plus, the thought of food made his stomach growl. He hadn't eaten in over a day.
"Yeah, okay," Carl agreed. "But you yell if he does anything!"
"I will," Hershel promised. "You can come back when you're done."
"Alright," Carl said, walking out.
00
Rick had been surprisingly fine with the idea of taking the drugs. He had talked it over with Hershel and it was clear that he felt desperate.
"I know it's not real… But I can't control it," he explained. "I don't know what to do. I've dragged you all down, making you care for me, lock me up."
"The drugs might help. There's no guarantee, but it's worth a shot. David found a few bottles… the issue will be finding a continuing supply. But there should be enough for a couple of months here, at least."
Hershel held up one of the bottles.
"You've got to take it twice a day. Build up gradually. That means, for the next few days at least, you'll have to remain confined, until it kicks in. There might be some side effects, too, so if you start feeling sick or anything feels different, you've got to tell one of us."
"Fair enough," Rick agreed.
Hershel stood up and looked around the room. He opened a few cabinets before finding what he wanted - a stack of paper cups. He filled one with water and handed it, along with a pill, to Rick.
The ex-cop gratefully took it and swallowed it down, along with the water.
"Good. Now is there anything else you need? I know this isn't much fun, but with Daryl how he is, and the threat of the Governor… it's best if you stay here."
"Something to read, if there's anything," Rick requested. It was boring as hell in the room, with nothing to do besides stare at the walls.
"Sure thing. I'll ask one of the others to see if they can find something. Can't guarantee it'll have a good plot, but I'll try," he joked, dryly.
"Thanks."
Hershel was about to walk out when he heard Rick's voice once again.
"Hershel?"
The older man turned to face him again.
"Is Daryl… Is he gonna be okay?" Rick only knew the basics of the situation - that Daryl had been tortured for several weeks. No one besides Hershel and David knew about the pregnancy.
Hershel sighed.
"I hope so, Rick. I really do."
00
Daryl seemed to be finished crying, at least for now. Carol had stayed with him the entire time, wiping away his tears, holding his hand.
Now, he was tired. Carol could tell by how he kept closing his eyes then slowly opening them again, like he was trying to force himself to stay awake.
"It's okay," Carol whispered, gently running a hand through Daryl's hair. "You can go to sleep."
Daryl shook his head 'no'. He felt terrible, going to sleep in a nice bed while his brother was probably dead, probably tortured and mutilated by that piece of shit Blake, all because of him. Because he had been captured. He'd spent so many weeks being angry at Merle, too. Fuck! He felt guilty and sick.
Nausea began to come over him as he considered it all, and he began to feel extremely cold.
Thankfully, Carol noticed how pale he had become. She ran off, quickly finding a basin, and held it in front of Daryl's mouth, getting it there just in time for Daryl to vomit. She held his hand as he was sick, noticing that he was squeezing back tightly.
Daryl puked up a small amount before starting to dry heave. It was several minutes before Carol felt safe pushing the basin away.
She looked Daryl over again. He was breathing heavily, tears forming at the corners of his eyes, snot under his nose. She took a paper towel and wiped it away. Daryl didn't even seem to notice.
"God… make it stop," he whispered, swallowing heavily. "Please…"
"Daryl, you're safe here. I promise, you are. No one's going to hurt you. We won't allow it."
Daryl laid back, still feeling freezing despite the fact that the room was warm. Carol pulled his blanket up further, tucking him in.
She stroked his hair until his breathing started to even out, watching as he closed his eyes.
"Please… tell Hershel to make sure it's safe. If something happens to me, don't let Blake get it," Daryl said, softly, eyes still closed.
"Get what?" Carol asked. "What are you talking about?"
There was no response. Daryl was finally asleep. Carol made a mental note to talk to Hershel later on.