"Daryl, you ok?"
He startles me, an' I jump. The sudden jolt intensifies t'dizziness, and I grab t'bannister by the stairs blindly wi' m' left, groaning.
"Sorry, sorry… I can see you're not ok… Is it the pills?"
"Yeah…" I manage to croak before my stomach turns over again an' I bend over retching. 't hurts so fuckin' much, t'acid burns m'insides, an' tears run down m'face. And he's there, seein' it all. 'm so embarrassed an' curse myself as the puke hits the ground an' splatters m'shoes. Should've gone into t'bathroom, locked t'door. Forgot all about that, my own fuckin' fault.
Think that's it for now. M'stomach's still twisting an' cramping, but 'm all empty. I straighten up an' turn. Gods, 'm so dizzy. As I take a step, not lookin' at him, the world tilts an' I stagger.
"Easy there…"
He tries t'grab me, keep me from falling, but I flinch away, stagger again an' only just manage to grab the bannister. I slump 'gainst it, m'heart racing.
I want him t'help me, I feel so bad. An' scared. But the memory, of how we left it, is all tha's in m'head.
And then he's by m'side, raises one hand but don' touch me. I look at t'ground, I don' move.
"Daryl…"
His voice, m'name from him, does me in. He sounds so sad, so worried. An' so, so scared.
'm shivering now, harder and harder. Wi' a sob, I turn t'him. An' he catches me, holds me real tight as tears start comin', and the world sways an' pitches. I feel sick again, try an' lean away when I can' suppress t'gagging any longer. He holds me tighter, safer, as more bile trickles into t'tall grass by t'porch.
'nother wave of dizziness engulfs me, and I grip at Rick hard.
"I got you, man, don't worry… oh Daryl, I'm so sorry…"
And I don' know why, but suddenly I believe that he means it. When I feel I can straighten up 'gain, finally empty and totally exhausted, he pulls me into an even tighter hug, an' I slump against him, resting m'head on his shoulder.
I can' keep from shaking and his hands are on my back, soothing. He holds me up, and 'm so glad cos I feel weaker than ever. I wish I could stop cryin', what t'fuck is wrong wi' me. 'm such a weakling…
"I mean it," he says, runnin' his hands up and down m'back, an' I feel myself calming down. "I'm so sorry, Daryl. I've been a selfish dick. I feel like the madness is coming back, but that's no excuse to make you suffer…"
"Don'…" My throat's raw from t'stomach acid. I cough, an' it fuckin' hurts. I can only whisper. "'s not jus' you… I need t'learn t'talk 'bout stuff…"
My voice gives out, an' I cough again, but now I can' seem t'stop. It hurts so fuckin' much. Suddenly it's hard to breathe, an' it takes a long time t'pass. I hold on t'Rick, real scared now. When it finally does Rick takes me by t'shoulder an' holds me at arm's length. He looks even more worried'n before.
"Let's get you inside. You're done in, you need to rest. And we need to get some meds into you, too…"
As if m'brain jus' needed remindin' m'arm suddenly hurts again. I bring it up to m'chest automatically, then wish I hadn', cos of course he notices. He looks more worried still but doesn' say nothin'.
He jus' puts his arm firmly round m'waist an' I lean on him, for now jus' glad he's there. He walks slowly, makes sure I don' misstep, like he wants t'really show me that he's sorry. He don' need to, I've forgiven him. He's m'Rick, after all. But still, it's nice he cares.
I gotta stop as we get in t'house. Every breath feels like 'm tryin' t'inhale water, and the room swims in'n out of focus. I wonder if I mightn' pass out. Rick seems t'know that something's up and grips me tighter still.
"Wanna rest on the sofa for a moment?"
I wanna say 'm fine, but t'stairs look too daunting.
"Think 's better, yeah…"
"I'll get you something to drink, you're definitely dehydrated…"
I sink onto t'sofa shakily, an' he looks down at me.
"You really don't look so good, Daryl. I… well, there's no doctor, and now we could really do with one…"
I can feel his pain and confusion like a physical blow. It makes me feel sick again and I close m'eyes. A calloused but very gentle hand alights on m'forehead.
"You're really warm… I know they make you feel bad, but I think you should take some more of the antibiotics. We'll try and find something different tomorrow."
"Ok."
"I'll be right back."
With m'eyes closed I finally relax a bit as the room slows down its crazy motion, an' I think I doze off.
"Daryl."
T'sofa descends a little as Rick sits down by my side. I open m'eyes and there he is, smiling down at me wi' a worried frown. His hand is back on m'face an' he brushes away strands of hair from m'forehead. I close m'eyes an' lean into the touch, but can' suppress a shudder.
"You're definitely running a temperature."
He looks at m'arm which lies across m'chest. I know t'bandage it's rusty wi' dried blood, an' dirty. The cut started bleeding 'gain when we got trapped in that car. It's real sore, too, but I try m'best not t'think about it cos it scares me.
"We got to get this seen to. And then we need you to take it easy for a while."
We. 's strange how such a small word can make m'feel so good, so safe, even now.
"Here." He hands me two pills an' a glass. "Orange juice. You need some sugar or you'll just feel sick again in a moment. Bet you haven't eaten properly in days, huh?"
I shrug. But he's right, of course. I knew them pills would make me puke, so I hardly touched any of the rations Aaron tried t'share wi' me. Didn' work, I got sick anyway, an' now 'm weak as well.
I'm still frightened of t'pills, an' swallow them reluctantly. Rick's right, tho, I got t'. I can feel t'infection in every fiber of m'body. And I'm so tired…
"Can we go sleep?"
"Yeah, course. C'mere, I'll help you up the stairs."
Rick straightens up an' put his arm round m'middle again. When I'm upright, clinging to him to wait out that damn dizziness, he looks at me again.
"I still want this, more than anything… I want you, man! I messed up… can you forgive me? I mean, really? Can we start over?"
I look back into them worried blue eyes. There is no doubt in me now. This is my man, and I'm his.
"Course we can."
