Chapter 41 - When the dust settles

Two days later and Daryl still didn't want to talk to Tahlia, but he needed to know if she had any clue that he'd been on standby outside her door, so he caught her as she was passing by in the courtyard.

"Been sleepin' ok?" he asked, pretending to be engrossed in lubricating his crossbow.

"Yeah, better." Tahlia replied, startled by his sudden conversation starter after he'd clearly been avoiding her.

"Nightmares?"

"Yeah." she said again. "But... but they're different."

At this he looked up. "Different how?"

"Like... still the same, still awful, but they end differently. Like... nicely." She didn't really know how to explain it. "So yeah, I've been sleeping better."

"Good." Daryl turned back to his crossbow signaling the end of the conversation. But Tahlia wasn't done.

"Daryl." She dropped down next to him on the seat, her hands worrying each other in her lap. "I know you're pissed at me, and I get it. I'm sorry that you have to deal with... with all the shit bits of me, and everyone else just gets the good bits. They get all the happy, surface me, and you get all the deep, dark ugly bits. I know that's not fair. And I don't know why it's you..." Genuine confusion. "...it just all comes out with you, it just always has, like I can't keep anything from you, I don't know why. And it's too much, I know it's too much - you shouldn't have to deal with any of it, but you're so damn lovely you just..." A sigh. "...you just put up with it, when you should just tell me to fuck off, to leave you alone." A revelation dawned. "Oh?! Is that what this is? Your way of telling me to leave you alone now coz you've had enough?"

She stood abruptly. "Goddamn I'm a dimwit sometimes. Sorry, honey, I only just got it. Hear you loud and clear now. I'll leave you alone." All of this said easily, evenly, as if she were just talking about the weather.

Naw! He said, but not out loud. That ain't it!

But how was he supposed to tell her that he was angry because he was confused about his feelings for her, that sometimes he almost couldn't bear being near her, but it was impossible to stay away? How was he supposed to tell her that he liked that he was the only one that saw her dark corners? How he felt proud that the others could only see the shimmering surface of her clear water, but he was permitted to dive deep down, explore the depths, to see what lay underneath. He didn't want anyone else under there. He didn't want anyone else to know her as well as he knew her. All of her quirks, her secrets, her shadows, he wanted them to be his and his alone. He wanted to be whatever she needed.

But he couldn't tell her any of that.

Though he had to tell her something, because she was walking away.

"Tahly!" He dropped his crossbow and jogged after her, grabbing her arm and tugging her around to him. "Ain't no shit bits. Not one. S'all beautiful. All of ya."

She gazed up at him in wonder, unable to decipher the mix of emotions on his face. He was still frowning, but his eyes were glittering with... what? Something deep and intense and tender. She didn't like to let herself hope, and she could see he was looking like he wished he could swallow those words right back down, so she glazed over it.

"So, why're you mad at me?"

"Ain't."

She gave him a disbelieving look. "You are. You're cold-shouldering me. I'm sorry that you saw what I'm like at nighttime. I know it was probably pathetic as hell. And... I'm sorry that I asked you to take your shirt off and that you were forced to see me in my underwear again. I know how weird you get about it, so the other night must have been torture for you." she teased, unable to resist.

He hissed at that. Torture indeed. But not in the way she was meaning.

Rolling his eyes, he aimed a kick at the toe of her boot. "Yeah, coz your damn lacy thing scratched the hell outta me all night. Woulda preferred to be sleepin' next to a sweaty sports bra and granny panties."

Matching small smiles raised on their faces and just like that, the tension evaporated.

Then Tahlia's brow furrowed. "Ok, so if I promise to never inflict my nightmare craziness on you again, will you stop avoiding me please? Well, you can have one more day of avoidance, and then we're even."

He wondered if now would be a good time to tell her that he'd actually spent the last two nights by her side. Maybe he'd save that for another day.

Part of him still wanted to push her away for self-preservation, but for the most part he felt like he was in sinking sand, unable to escape, sinking deeper and deeper into her, about to be fully engulfed. It was terrifying. But everyone knew that the best thing to do in sinking sand was to stop fighting so hard against it.

"Ain't crazy. Ain't nothin' like that. Wanna be there for ya, however ya need me." he muttered, the best he could manage at the moment. "Said I'd keep ya safe, and I will. No matter what."

"Yeah, but you don't have to." protested Tahlia. "That doesn't have to be on you, that's what I'm trying to say! I know it's not fair-"

Without thinking he cupped her face and pressed his thumb into her lips. She was halfway through a word so her mouth was partially open and he could feel the soft wetness inside, sending a wicked current all the way through him. Unable to find the right words, he wanted instead to pull her into him, hold her close, but he was still shouldering the confusion and guilt of his nighttime tenderness and felt like she needed to stay out of his arms in daylight hours until he could get his head around it.

So, he found words that would just have to do for now.

"Ain't no chore for me, babygirl." he said softly, feeling her small intake of breath against his thumb at that term, her mind connecting up fragments of whispered comfort in her dreams.

"Do anythin' for ya. Happy to." Dragging her lip down a little, a spark of desire flickered in his eyes for a brief second, then he blinked it away, and gave her a curt nod. "Ain't mad at ya. We're all good."

Then he was off, back to his crossbow, leaving her reeling from the whiplash of another 180.

After that encounter, Daryl high-tailed it to the woods hoping that hunting would be a welcome distraction from everything swirling inside him.

His whole life, he'd managed to keep his emotions carefully stacked on a securely guarded shelf, left untouched and gathering dust. He was used to operating only at surface level, nothing running deep, nothing affecting his functioning.

She had shaken him like an earthquake, upending the shelf, the contents tumbling violently, smashing and spilling and making a goddamn mess. She had accessed a part of himself that he thought had died long ago with his mother and stolen childhood. She was opening him up, laying him bare. He wanted to push her back out, lock up that place, forget it existed, but it was a one-way valve, no going back. And although he was terrified where it would end up, her advice about uncomfortable feelings echoed in his head.

Feel it. Sit with it. Let it be.

So, he did.

Lying on his back under a willow tree, he shut his eyes and stopped fighting against the army in his head, stopped trying to push it aside, and instead, let it storm him. He allowed the tangle to pull and knot and strangle - the guilt, the shame, the anger, the confusion – seeing each one and leaving it be.

And, after a while, he could breathe again, the pain was less, the load was lighter. The unpleasantness slowly ebbed away, the dust settled, and then his eyes shot open when he caught sight of what was left shining there.

He was damn well in love with her.

And despite the fact he'd never loved before, of this he was absolutely certain.

As soon as the words rang out in his head, he knew they reverberated with truth. Of course, he'd been aware that what he felt for her was far beyond the bounds of friendship, but he hadn't ever let himself dwell on it long enough to notice how deeply his feelings ran. And now he realised they ran about as deep as you could get.

But love? That just didn't make sense.

Because he hadn't actually thought it was possible to fall in love with someone you weren't even in a relationship with, whom you hadn't even kissed, and what's more, he'd always assumed that love was something that happened slowly, covered you gradually, pleasurably, like easing into a warm bath.

Not a violent, messy tumble down a flight of stairs, leaving you dazed and bruised and shaken.

Not something that consumed you from the inside out, swallowing chunks of the person you were before, shoving you in and out of your head at the same time.

At first, the realisation floored him, flooded him, frightened him. Made him feel like he was betraying her by skidding far beyond the line he promised he'd never overstep. But then, as it sat in front of him, all new and glittering and inescapable, he didn't feel as afraid as he once might have, but found that it was somewhat cathartic to be able to put a label on the tidal wave that was sweeping through him, drowning every piece of the man he was without her.

Finally, he could make sense of the chaos inside.

A weight dropped from his shoulders and he sighed in relief. That made things easier now. He didn't need to try and push her away, fight against these feelings, didn't even need anything from her in return. He could just let himself love her, protect her, be whatever she needed him to be. This knowledge also assuaged the guilt he felt about his wanton lust for her, because he now knew it was more than just base desire – it came from a place of respect and adoration.

It felt so damned good to finally be able to name this hurricane.

Figuring out what the hell he was going to do about it was another matter entirely.

He sat outside her cell again that night.

Couldn't stop himself from doing it until he knew for sure that the nightmares were gone. And even though he'd stopped raging against the enormity of his feelings for her, he couldn't bring himself to let her know that he was doing this. Hovering over her as if she were some precious China doll. She'd probably laugh in his face then refuse to ever sleep again. He dozed off against the wall, the concrete cold against his temple.

When he was woken some hours later by her unmistakable soft cries, he jumped to his feet like a puppet on a string, knowing that she had been his puppeteer for quite some time now. Slipping quietly in, he bundled her into him, comforted her as usual, slipped her back down to the bed when she calmed.

As he was about to leave, Tahlia's hand shot out and circled his wrist, and she tugged him back down to sit on the bed. She gazed up at him, and in the candlelight he could see her eyes were clear and lucid, she was free of the claws of her recent nightmare. He froze, wondering how the hell he was going to explain himself, but she didn't ask, so he didn't offer.

"Stay." Barely a whisper but the echo loud around the silent cell.

In response he kicked off his boots, (and momentarily considered removing his t-shirt, but in light of recent revelations definitely did not trust himself to behave if they were skin to skin again), and quickly dropped down next to her on the bed before he could think twice. They lay facing each other silently for a while, fingers linked between their chests, feeling like they were teetering dangerously on the brink of something. Squeezing his eyes shut he pressed his forehead to hers for a brief moment and felt her tiny quivering gasp, then rolled onto his back and pulled her to his chest, where she fitted perfectly tucked under his chin.

No more words were uttered that night.

No more nightmares came for her.

When Tahlia's body awoke her just before dawn as it had done for years now, she was still curled into Daryl's chest. Gently leaning away from him, she found that he was already awake, and shot her a half smile at her husky, "Morning."

Awkwardness and apprehension clung heavily to him as he wondered how they were going to tackle this. In the harsh light of day, it was harder to explain away what he was doing lurking around her bed last night, and certainly harder to normalise their night-times snuggles. He was also certain that his realisation from the previous day was written all over his face.

Tahlia sat up and shimmied over the top of Daryl, then stood and stretched. Daryl sat up too and hurriedly started putting on his boots, feeling like he'd just had a one-night stand with a stranger, and they were both competing to see who could get out of the door and each other's lives as quickly as possible.

When he looked up, Tahlia was holding a bottle of water out to him. "Drink?"

He accepted wordlessly, gaze darting between her and the floor.

Tahlia didn't know how Daryl had ended up in her bed again last night, and she didn't care. For whatever reason, he had come back to her, and she wasn't about to let it go up in a burst of awkwardness. Time to lighten it up.

"You are so damn comfortable, and super toasty too. Like a giant hot water bottle. Coulda lain there forever, but I guess I'd better go and do some stretching."

Slowly he raised his eyes to meet hers, but she was already closing the gap between them, kneeling down between his thighs, taking his hands in hers.

"I didn't have any more nightmares after you came in last night. It's like you're my dreamcatcher. So, thank you for that." She gave a playful smile, but her voice was filled with admiration and Daryl felt himself relax, once again grateful for her ability to do this - to shake the tension out of the air, dilute it, replace it with a sense of ease.

He nudged her with his knee.

"Dreamcatcher." he scoffed fondly. "Damn hippy."

They stood up, and Daryl scrubbed a palm against his eye and stretched.

"Leavin' on that run today." he told her.

A flash of worry crossed Tahlia's face. "Oh! That's today?!"

"Yeah... I mean, I don't have to... I could find someone to take my place if ya need me to..."

"No, no." Tahlia replied quickly, although her heart melted a little at the offer and selfishly she wanted to take him up on it. Keep him by her side. "You guys have been planning this for so long, and they really need you out there. I'll be totally fine, promise. Still got lots of cool people to hang out with here!"

"Y'sure?"

"Yes!" She gave him a warm smile. "You don't need to worry about me."

"Always gonna." he muttered.

"You too. So, be careful out there, ok? Want you back in one piece."

Daryl just nodded, then a frown darkened his face. "Don't go outside the fences." he said sternly. "Promise me you'll stay inside the prison."

Tahlia clucked her tongue, mulling it over. "I can't promise that. BUT, I will promise that I'll only go out when I have to, and I won't go out alone."

He gave a curt nod at that, and then, before he could stop himself, added, "And don't talk to fuckin' Brody."

As if he had any right to tell her who she could speak to. But the thought of any man making an unwanted advance on her was enough to make his blood boil.

"I'll fuckin' deck that asshole if he tries anythin' on ya. In fact, I'ma go punch him in the face right now. Pre-emptive strike."

Tahlia laughed a little at Daryl's unapologetic dislike of the man but was touched by his fierce protectiveness.

"Won't go anywhere near him." she said resolutely. "I'll only hang out with people on the Approved list."

Her smile quickly faded as she gave a misty sigh. "A week's a long time. I'm gonna miss you."

"Probably be a bit longer than that." he replied, immediately kicking himself for not being able to respond to the other thing that she'd said and for not being able to just say anything.

"Wanna hug it out?" asked Tahlia, a playful grin on her face.

He let out a wry laugh. "Ain't that what we been doin' all night?"

"Well," she said frankly, "I'm never going to be able to get enough of it, so..."

And, although he didn't realise it, he glowed at that, just lit up from the inside out, and then his arms were around her waist, scooping her up, lifting her off her feet, as she giggled and hugged him fiercely back and resisted the temptation to wrap her legs around him.

When Daryl finally set her back down on the ground, she planted a firm kiss on his cheek, and put her hands on either side of his face.

"Don't be a dick out there. Stay safe."

She stepped back from him and the cold absence of her from his arms stung immediately, but he could only grin at her little piece of parting advice, wishing that he could leave a little telling sliver of his heart with her, a little of what he now knew, but it wasn't the right time. So instead, he said,

"Right back at ya, pain in the ass."

The prospect of a whole week without Daryl stretched dismally in front of Tahlia, but she was determined to keep herself busy and make the best of it.

So, in amongst throwing herself into the prison chores, she talked to people. Like really talked to them, delved into their stories, the ones hidden deep in the recesses of their souls. She'd always loved finding out about people, but over the past year, learning people's stories had taken on a deeper significance.

Everyone had been through something. No one had just sailed through life without any knocks or scars.

But even after everything life could throw up, people still fought through, still came out the other side. And through all these stories of pain and hardship, there were boundless more of love and kindness, small mercies and silver linings, joy and community and banding together. It gave her happiness, hope, positivity.

It all made her feel so full.

"Reach that hand to the ground and stretch this one in the air. That's it."

Up on the hill, Tahlia was trying to wrangle Rick into Triangle Pose.

"I can't touch the fucking ground!"

"That's ok, you're doing great where you are. Look up if you can."

"Is it supposed to hurt this much?!" complained Rick as he attempted to turn his face up to the sky.

Tahlia couldn't help but laugh a little. "No, ease off a bit if it hurts!"

Just then she spotted Michonne and Carol coming to join them.

"Ooh, more yogis?!" asked Tahlia, excitedly.

Michonne scoffed at that. "You wish."

Tahlia indicated Rick, whose legs were now shaking with effort. "But don't you want to reach spiritual enlightenment just like-"

She was cut off by a loud string of swear words as Rick turned too far and toppled over on to his back.

"Uh... never mind." muttered Tahlia as she suppressed a giggle.

Holding a hand out to help him up, Rick took it as he sat up, but then shot a quick glance at Carol and Michonne, and tugged on Tahlia's hand.

"Why don't you sit down instead?"

Tahlia narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she sat next to Rick, Michonne and Carol joining them down on the grass. "What's going on?"

Wordlessly, Carol reached into her satchel and pulled out an object wrapped in a blue tea towel, and placed it on the ground between them, shooting Tahlia a reassuring smile as she did so.

Then Michonne spoke up, her tone slow and reflective. "Do you remember when we met?"

"Course I do." replied Tahlia brightly. "Best day of your life!"

Michonne flicked Tahlia's knee. "I was in a pretty bad way. You wouldn't leave me alone. You were pretty annoying."

"Nice to see some things never change." chuckled Rick as he gave Tahlia a nudge.

Tahlia grinned and nodded. "Reliably annoying."

Michonne smiled before growing serious again. "But you were also amazing. You pulled me through. Pulled a lot of people through. There was so much chaos back then trying to get our heads around what was going on, losing everything, losing people every day. It was tough. But you never really let it get to you, you never really wavered. You've always been like that. Always had this way of knowing what people need. Always been so kind and positive and light. So, whether you know it or not, whether you need it or not, we are the ones who'll pull you through, too, Tahly. You have us. We're your family."

The laughter faded from Tahlia's eyes and was replaced with something much more contemplative at Michonne's words, and she nodded slowly.

Michonne continued. "And I've seen you this week, moving around everyone, talking to people, seeing them. I know that's what you like to do to keep you grounded, focused on what's important to you. But we thought that there might be another way to help too."

Carol flipped the tea towel open to reveal Rick's Colt Python, and Tahlia flinched.

"Maybe handling this might help a little." said Carol quietly. "Like a symbolic way of moving forward."

Tahlia stared at Carol for a long moment, then forced a small smile. "Nice idea, but I don't need to do that. I'm fine."

Carol held the gun out to her. "Just humour us, then."

Swallowing hard, Tahlia reached out to take it. "This is stupid." she said lightly, although she was annoyed that her shaking hand belied her words.

"Yeah, maybe." shrugged Michonne. "Do it anyway."

Holding the gun in her hands, Tahlia gazed at it, her vision swimming as tears filled her eyes. Running her fingers over the barrel, she turned it over in her hands, looked at it from every angle as Rick laid a reassuring hand on her knee.

Tahlia looked up, tears spilling down her cheeks, and she let out a small laugh. "I'm so fucking sick of crying."

Carol stood up and helped Tahlia to her feet, as the others stood as well, then held out a bullet and gave her a knowing look. "One more thing to do."

Tahlia elbowed Carol as she hesitantly took the bullet. "I'm never telling you anything again." she whispered in faux-annoyance, and Carol chuckled and tucked an arm around Tahlia's waist as she opened the cylinder and dropped the bullet into a chamber.

Rick gave Tahlia a supportive squeeze on the shoulder. "Go for it."

So, she did. With shaking hands and blurry vision, she aimed at nothing beyond the fences and fired the gun, surprised at how strongly this had affected her.

Spinning the weapon around in her hands, she gazed down at it.

"Just a fucking gun." she muttered quietly to herself, feeling a strange sense of peace wash over her.

Then she handed the gun back to Rick and looked around at her friends, a small smile on her face as she gave a sniff and wiped at her eyes. "You guys are dicks."

They laughed at that and Michonne threw her arms around her. "Yeah. And you're stuck with us."

"And so damned happy to be."