Rachel closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as the needle pierced through her skin. She did her best to suppress the moan of pain that rose in her throat, but it was to no avail. There was nothing left in the medical supplies to help ease the pain, so she just had to endure as Hershel sewed up her arm. The skin was tender around the wound and Hershel did his best to be gentle, but Rachel could still feel each pass of the needle and string.
She started at the door that led outside to distract her mind. Rick had interrupted Rachel and Daryl to discuss the delicate subject of Merle. Already perturbed with her husband, Rachel excused herself from the conversation and left to find Hershel. It would only fuel the flames of their unsettled spat is she sided with Rick on how best to handle Merle. That had been a while ago. No one else had come into the cell block since she sat down with Hershel. The others probably still had Merle at gun point, waiting for Rick and Daryl to arrive at some agreement.
"What are we going to do with Sarah and Axel – with the bodies?" Rachel asked out loud – another attempt to distract her mind. With walkers crawling all over the prison yard, it would be impossible to bury them with the others.
"I don't know. We'll see what Rick says," Hershel replied, rolling his eyes up to hers for a moment.
The door was suddenly pushed open and Merle sauntered in with Rick's pistol between his shoulder blades. The rest of the group followed closely behind, looking grim. Rachel's eyes locked with Merle's as he descended the stairs. A smirk pulled at his lips.
"Well, shit. Look at that. You really are alive!"
Rachel felt her entire body tense and her eyes narrowed. "No thanks to you."
"Honest mistake, princess." Merle shrugged like it was no big deal, which only kindled Rachel's fury.
"Like hell it was," she spat as Rick pushed the older Dixon brother into the empty cell. She winced as Hershel tied off the last stitch.
"It all worked out, didn't it? We're all still alive." Merle drawled, looking out from between the bars.
"That's enough!" Rick yelled. He turned, gave Rachel a pointed look, and then his eye brows rose, slightly amused.
She scowled but kept her mouth shut and rolled her eyes over to where Daryl stood with his arms crossed. His face was etched with a scowl too. Hershel gave her arm a gentle pat; he had finished with a bandage around the stitches to keep infection out. The tension in her face eased as her gaze met the old man's.
"Just be careful when you bend your arm."
Rachel nodded and stood from the table. Before leaving the common area, she took a bowl and cloth from a small pile of recently washed items. Hershel had only cleaned around the wound. She was still covered in blood, her own and Sarah's. It would feel good to wash up a little and put on fresh clothes.
Back in her cell, Rachel pinned up a few towels for some privacy, leaving the top open to give her some light. She sat down on the edge of the bed, glad that no one had followed her. A moment alone would do her some good. She sat for some time with her head in her hands, thinking over everything that happened in the last few days. It hurt, all of it. No part of this was easy – she knew that. Pulling away from the uselessness of being lost in thought, Rachel took a few deep, centering breaths to clear her mind.
She was just reaching for the water bottle on the floor when Daryl called her name from just outside the door. Startled, Rachel knocked the bottle over and cursed. Light filled the space as Daryl let himself in. She scooped up the fallen bottle and looked at her husband.
"Didn't mean to scare you."
"You didn't," she lied.
"You still pissed?" he asked, knowing the answer he would get.
"Yes," she replied curtly, twisting the cap from the bottle and taking a sip before pouring the rest of the contents into the bowl.
The towel went into the water, but was retrieved by Daryl as he squatted in front of her. He gently took a hold of her wrist and wiped away the dried blood. Neither of them spoke as he worked his way up and down the length of her arms. A flood of emotions surfaced at his touch and memories of the first time she felt anything toward Daryl filled her head.
Rachel had gotten herself into a precarious situation with a boy – a situation that she did not want to be in. Daryl stepped in and put an end to the attack. With no other choice but to let Daryl help her, Rachel sat on the tailgate of his truck as he cleaned the abrasions on her hands and knees. As soon as she was bandaged, Daryl drove her to a friend's house – the place she should have been. It only took that short time spent together to shift her view of the youngest Dixon brother, always thought to be trouble. But if he was such a troubled young man, why would he bother to help? It was from that moment which their relationship blossomed.
Over fifteen years later, Rachel couldn't imagine life without him; the past year had been so difficult. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks while she watched him work. When she sniffed, Daryl looked up to meet her eyes and noticed the tears. He brushed the freshly wrung cloth across her face and dropped it into the bowl, looking up expectantly.
"I'm sorry about Sarah," he said quietly. "You gonna be okay?"
Swallowing thickly, Rachel nodded. "I will be."
"You sure?"
"Yes," she insisted, wiping away a few stray tears. "I've seen a lot of death over the last year – we all have, I know – and I've learned how to cope with it. Honestly, it's the thought of losing you that scares me most."
"I left him, you know – out there in the woods," Daryl suddenly interjected, wanting someone to know about what happened with Merle out on the road. He sat back against the wall and looked at the floor while he spoke. "It seemed like the right decision at the time, to go with Merle, but after a few hours it got harder and harder to stay. He wouldn't stop runnin' his damn mouth about how the Governor would hit the prison. He kept talkin' about how y'all'd be dead."
"That's what brought you back?"
Daryl nodded. "We argued and I finally walked away. It was his choice to follow me."
Recognizing the strength it must have taken for Daryl to walk away from his brother, Rachel carefully slid onto the floor with him. She took his hand in hers and offered him an empathetic smile. "I'm proud of you."
"Merle's still my brother, but these people are my family too," he explained with some urgency in his voice. "This is where I belong."
"They need you, Daryl. I saw it and I heard it." She was sincere in her statement, having witnessed the lack of leadership with both Rick and Daryl absent. The group relied heavily on the opinions and knowledge of these two men. In some ways, it impressed her, but to it also made her nervous to think that things would deteriorate if both men were truly lost.
"I need you," he replied and pressed his lips to hers. "I won't lose you again."
"You can't be so certain, not anymore."
"Fine. I will always come back to you – always," he said, looking her firmly in the eye. "If I don't, I'm dead."
Rachel lips twitched with a smile. "I'll make sure of it."
Daryl chuckled as she kissed him.
"So, what's the plan for Merle?" she asked, suddenly curious.
"He's allowed to stay. It ain't gonna be easy, but it's right."
Rachel's eyebrows rose. "Bet the others are loving it."
"It don't matter. He knows all about the Governor and Woodbury. He'll be helpful."
"If he wants to be, he will."
Daryl nodded; she wasn't wrong. "Will you help me keep an eye on him? I don't want him doing something stupid."
"I won't be much of a deterrent if he does. He and I don't get along, you know that. And I don't know that I can forgive him for what happened in Jasper. He didn't even seem sorry about it."
"You ain't doin' it for him. You're doin' it for me, Rachel."
"Fine. Who knows, maybe by the end of all this, Merle and I will be the best of friends," she replied with an air of sarcasm.
"I doubt it," Daryl said with a grin. "Now, you should think about a shower – you're still pretty gross."
"Hey!" Rachel protested and then her eyes widened. "Wait, there's a shower?"