Leaning against the door of one of the cells, watching over the others as they gathered together, Daryl wondered how many of the people in front of him were nursing pains that couldn't be seen from the outside. He certainly was. As Beth's voice carried through the shadows thrown by the camp fire, her song one of survival and endurance against the odds, he took in each of the faces that made up his family and tried to memorise the slight smiles that played on their features because he didn't envision much opportunity for smiling in their futures.
Andrea's surprise visit that day had put a lot of things into perspective, it made them all look at the bigger issue and put aside their petty differences of opinion. They were going to war. Daryl had known that there was no real alternative since that first attack by the Governor days earlier but that didn't mean he hadn't hoped for one. Nobody liked to go into a conflict knowing that they were on the side that was both outnumbered and out-gunned, it didn't tend to inspire confidence.
Since their stolen hours in the yard, he had barely seen Carol for more than a minute and he hadn't managed to engineer any time alone with her. Between watch duty, hunting and keeping an eye on Merle, Daryl barely had enough time to sleep let alone socialise. Looking after his brother and keeping him out of trouble was turning out to be almost a full-time job.
Feelings had been running high, it was to be expected. It wasn't natural to expect anyone to play house with the man who had tried to kill them and Glenn certainly wasn't holding back about how he felt about the situation, leaving Daryl in a state of perpetual vigilance. He knew that his brother could handle himself just fine, but the ramifications of a clash between the Korean and Merle would not be easy to deal with, especially when Rick had made it crystal clear that anything his brother did was on Daryl's shoulders.
For the most part, his brother had been happy to have Daryl's company and had otherwise kept mostly to himself although he and Hershel had talked a little and he had tried to make amends with Michonne. It was no small relief that he had yet to start rocking the boat, too unsure of his welcome to push anyone's buttons. They gave him jobs to do and he mostly did them without comment. Daryl continued to go with him to hunt and bring in food. Merle would take watch and sometimes when things were quiet he would talk about the man that they now had to consider top of their enemy list. Nobody else in the cell block could offer insights into the mind of the Governor like Merle could, they might not like what he had to say but they had to listen to it. Complacency was a luxury they could no longer afford.
There had been much discussion as to whether they should stay or abandon the prison and take their chances on the road and as far as he could see the group seemed to be evenly split as to which course of action seemed best. Staying put was safer for the baby, more secure for the women, but they were vulnerable within the prison walls and they knew it. They had no way out if the Governor chose to return and finish what he had started. Besides, as Merle pointed out, they had lost their window of opportunity to get out clear while they argued and the Governor had clear advantages in both numbers and weapons. Those advantages were the reason that Rick was planning on heading out in search of weapons the following morning with his son and Michonne.
He would stay behind and keep things together in the Sheriffs absence, a reality that loosely translated to making sure that things didn't boil over between Glenn and Merle and making sure that the perimeter wasn't breached.
It was late when they all retired to bed, the sky already beginning to lighten beyond the cell block windows. Merle had joined them for part of the evening, the cell block door no longer locked to keep him out, and Daryl watched him as he returned to his bed wondering whether the subtle changes he had observed his brother were genuine or merely a period of adjustment to his new surroundings. He hoped that they were real, that the atmosphere and the personalities of the people around him were making him appreciate the merits of being with a larger group, but he wasn't holding his breath.
He was the last to turn in, having checked the doors and the yard for intruders and found himself lingering outside Carol's cell as he returned to his own. It wasn't a coincidence that his sleeping quarters were right next to hers, wherever he had slept he had always made sure that she was within his sight. In the muted light he saw her, curled up beneath the blanket, face toward the wall. She was a tiny thing he realised, fragile and delicate, and yet she wielded such influence over him. Her joy brought a smile to his lips, her pain made his chest ache. The woman in front of him could inspire so many emotions in him, happiness, tranquillity and even anger – nothing made him furious faster than the thought that someone or something had hurt her. She was, could be, everything to him if only he could find the nerve to tell her how he felt.
The sudden irrational urge to step over the threshold of her cell and sleep beside her, got him moving again, pace quickening as he moved from her cell to his own, pulling at his clothing so that he could fall restlessly onto the mattress and stare at the bottom of the bunk above him. He had little experience with women and even less with relationships but he knew deep in the marrow of his bones that he wanted something more from Carol than he had from the others, few as they were. As he waited for sleep to come to him he wondered what she thought about when she looked at him. She never seemed to mind him watching her, even smiled when she caught him sometimes. There was one bigger question that plagued him however, even though he had yet to find the courage to kiss her the way he wanted, would she have welcomed him if he had slid into her bed and moulded his body around her own?
