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Chapter Twenty One: Sniffles

Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.

People got sick. It was just a fact of life.

Daryl had seen it all his life, well before the end of the world and the takeover by the walkers. People got sick, and sometimes people died. The only difference between then and now was they couldn't get access to medicines when someone did get sick. It didn't bother Daryl so much when one of the group got sick. All he cared about was that they stayed away from him while they were sick. And when he was sick, he would stay up in his perch, away from the rest of the group. Only Carol was brave enough to approach him when he was sick, and even then he would grumble and gripe until she left him alone.

Then Judith got sick for the first time, and all hell broke loose.

It wasn't anything serious, just a cough and slight fever. But she was six months old and practically inconsolable, as was Daryl. As soon as he found out she was sick, he had plucked her from Beth's arms and taken her up to his perch. He had never dealt with a sick baby, but he knew Judith and he knew how to take care of her when she was well, so by his logic he could take care of her when she was sick, too.

Judith fussed all night, despite Daryl's best efforts to soothe her. By the time the sun came up, Daryl was frustrated and worried.

Carol came up to his perch shortly after sunrise. "Hey…"

Daryl looked over at her, patting Judith's back absently. "What?"

"Thought you might want some help." She held her arms out and looked at him expectantly.

He shook his head, not ready to hand the baby over yet. "I got her. Gonna make a run later fer some medicine."

"She can't have any, Daryl."

"Why the hell not?" he snapped, his tension causing Judith to fuss even more.

"She's too young. If you found any medicine, it would say not intended for children under two."

"So she jus' has ta suffer?"

"It's a cold, Daryl." Carol approached them and rested her hand on his arm. "She'll be fine."

"How can ya be so sure?" His voice quavered slightly despite his attempt not to let it.

"Because I had a baby." Her voice was quiet and almost immediately he regretted his harsh words.

"Carol…"

She waved a hand dismissively. "It's okay." She slid her hands under the baby and lifted her from Daryl's embrace. Wrapping the blanket tighter around Judith, she held her tightly to her chest and began swinging back and forth, humming softly.

Daryl watched curiously as Carol's movements combined with her humming slowly settled Judith. Soon the baby was sound asleep in Carol's arms. "How'd ya do that?" he whispered once Judith was sleeping.

"When Sophia was a baby, she was colicky."

"Wha's that?"

"She cried a lot. Ed hated it."

Daryl felt anger well up in his chest at the mention of Carol's dead husband, but he tamped it down and studied Carol's face. Dark circles beneath her blue eyes were starkly prominent, and she seemed even thinner than normal. Before he could lose his nerve, he motioned to his makeshift bed.

Carol seemed to understand without a word, because she lied down with the baby and curled up in his blankets, settling Judith on her chest.

Satisfied they were both comfortable and safe, Daryl sat down beside them, his crossbow in his hands.

Everyone got sick. So why did this make him feel so terrible?

The End.