Warren's bed was complete by the time they had finished talking. Glenn, having no need to be part of the conversation, had gotten assistance in dragging a bed and frame from upstairs in one of the houses to the living room. He and Michonne had fit the bed with sheets they had found in a closet upstairs, and had laid Warren in it, covering him up. He looked peaceful, comfortable now, and he didn't wake even when he was moved. Daryl hadn't waited for anyone to leave before he dragged up a chair and sat down in it, content to keep watch from Warren's beside. Rick had followed him from the infirmary, and spoke in hushed tones to Glenn for a moment, which Daryl didn't pay attention to. It didn't matter what they were saying. Rick put a hand on Glenn's shoulder, sending him out into the world, before approaching Daryl. The hunter hadn't showered, had stitches in his head, was covered in blood, and didn't care. He was too busy staring at Warren's peaceful face, like he'd never seen the boy so calm or painless.
"Daryl." Rick put his hand on Daryl's shoulder, and the hunter grunted gently in response, brought out of his self imposed trance by the comforting hand. "We're gonna tell our group what happened. Including Warren's condition." Rick was soft, respectful at the boy's bedside, but considering what he just said, Daryl couldn't tell if he was actually being truly respectful.
"I dunno if he'd like that." Daryl murmured, shrugging. "Tellin' everybody without him without askin' him." He cross his arms, defensive, protective of Warren even when the boy was passed out on the bed in front of him. Michonne, in the background, turned away from the scene with a smile - how it wasn't obvious to Daryl what he felt for Warren, she didn't get, because he was barely this protective of anyone else.
"We don't have a choice." Rick bent down, squatting beside the chair, putting his other hand on the bed. He was serious, deadly so, and Daryl couldn't fight that sentiment. "They're going to find out from someone in this place, and I'd rather it be from one of us than from another resident. It'll be easier to keep Warren safe if everyone already knows - we can put a stop to unkind behavior before Warren is awake to have it affect him."
"Okay." Daryl agreed, standing, and Rick mimicked him. The reasons were sound, and it wasn't just telling for telling sake, and Warren would understand. "But I wanna tell 'um." He was soft, considerate. It was the least he could do - he wanted to make sure he was there so that Warren never got misrepresented by the others, and only had the truth told.
"Okay." Rick almost expected that, nodding softly. "Glenn went to go get the others that already know here, so we can talk. Now that everyone involved has had a chance to step back from the situation, I want to make sure they all understand and don't have any lingering questions or animosity." Rick was dealing with the whole thing very well, and Daryl knew that him overseeing the moments would be the best they could do. They couldn't not tell their people - this wasn't a secret that they could keep, not when the other residents would jump at the chance to tell someone on the inside who might react badly; tell someone they could get on their side.
It didn't take long for Glenn to return, and the group stepped onto the porch, closing the door to keep the house quiet. There were only five - Rick, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie and Michonne - but five was good enough to start. "Now, I know you all already know Warren's condition." Rick said, leaning against a railing.
"We need to find somethin' else t'call it." Daryl stepped in, arms crossed. "Condition makes it sound like he's got cancer."
"Okay." Rick conceded, because Daryl was right. Neither of them knew much about the etiquette surrounding transgender awareness - hell, until Warren, neither of them really had transgender awareness - but both could tell that condition made it sound like this was some medical issue Warren was fighting, which it wasn't. As far as Daryl could tell, besides the infection, Warren was pretty content. The only thing was that he had to work to get there. "You all know about Warren." Rick corrected, and this was deemed better, and he continued. "Daryl and I are going to inform the rest of our group before the other residents attempt to, and we'll need you three to start keeping watch. Are you all okay to do that? Do you have any questions, any hesitations?"
"Don't wanna put anybody that might hurt him in there." Daryl added, always the right hand man, even when this was his job. But it worked, this. Rick doing the diplomatic talking and Daryl simply adding what was needed. It was probably for the best, as Daryl wasn't the best at diplomacy.
"I don't really need to know much more." Maggie said, eventually, staring at the door. It was clear her views on the subject were on the fence, but she wasn't hostile when she spoke again. "Daddy wasn't big on this kinda thing, said we shouldn't deny what God gave us, but it ain't my business what Warren is or does or wants. 'Specially not out here, not when the world's like this. If he's happier like he is, then that's all there is for it." She nodded, reaching out for Glenn's hand, and Glenn took it. It was easy to tell - if this were her family, without the apocalypse, she might have been less accepting, but the world was over as they knew it and there was no reason for her to take away what Warren had.
"We're still... He's still a he, right?" Glenn asked, softly, tiptoeing around his sentencing like a misstep would get him in trouble. He seemed less like he didn't accept the idea, and more concerned that his lack of knowledge on the subject would be offensive, and that he would hurt Warren by accident without trying. "I mean, like, it's not any different than it was when you were just telling us about him, right?" He looked to Daryl, who nodded.
"He ain't different." Daryl smiled, leaning back against the railing in a relaxed way, and Glenn smiled back, more relaxed now that he was assured he wouldn't have to try and change anything, and that he was doing okay as he was. This was going a lot better than Daryl had anticipated. He'd expected someone to start griping about it, or even throwing punches, but they'd lucked out so far. There wasn't any animosity between anyone there, and the atmosphere felt nice, and protective. He looked to Michonne, who'd been quiet the entire time, leaning against the wall of the house, closed off. It was like there was a great weight on her heart, and she wasn't sure how to start processing it, how to start breaking it down. Rick stepped over to her, and he didn't have to ask what was up for her to know they were asking.
"I'm okay." Michonne forced a smile, and Rick put a hand on her shoulder. She covered his hand with her own. "I'm just... trying to understand why anyone would care enough about this to hurt someone for it." She was quiet, introspective, the great weight making her almost unable to speak loudly. "Why would someone hurt him, when who he is doesn't even effect them?" She shook her head, and they said nothing. They couldn't have if they tried, because what Michonne was talking about was far out of their reach. Only Glenn had even the opportunity to experience any kind of prejudice in their lives, and the rest of them neither could nor should have tried to rationalize this nonsense. Even though the world had ended, their privilege colored their past lives, and they all knew better than to speak, even if they had no idea what privilege was.
"I thought, maybe now that the world was over, oppression and prejudice like this would just go away, because we're all fighting the same monsters." Michonne finally added. "I thought, maybe because we're in a world where we're all just struggling to get by, people would forget about what they were angry about. Being angry takes so much time and energy, I thought people would be able to afford it, and move on."
"I think... some people don't realize there are real monsters out there." Glenn replied, softly. "Some people, like the people here, still have privilege over others, because they don't have to think about wasting energy on anger. They talk at their parties like the world we know is something that happens to other people, something they don't have to worry about. They've never really seen a Walker, they've never had to take one down with their own hands - how could they even know that the monsters outside the walls are worse than anything they could find in here? They're complacent, and that's their big downfall." Glenn finished, and there was silence. There was nothing more they could say, because what could be said had been said by someone who could actually say it. At least Michonne didn't look so down now, the words Glenn had given her starting to chip away at the weight. The group stayed there, content in each other, for a long moment, letting everyone have a chance to process the ideas.
"I'll take first watch." Michonne smiled, putting a hand on Rick's shoulder, breaking the silence. She looked like she needed the alone time to think, and Rick wasn't about to tell her not to take it. "You guys go do what you need, I'll be here as long as you need me to."
~o~o~
They found Rosita and Carol first. They were outside, having been cleaning and organizing the infirmary after the morning's emergency, chatting together softly. Rick and Daryl approached them as they were dumping dustpans over the edge of the porch, and ringing out rags full of pink water. Between Daryl's head and Pete's face, there had apparently been a lot of blood. The boys were at the stairs when they were spotted, and as soon as she saw Daryl, Carol pursed her lips and gave him this look that was so motherly and so much you're in trouble mister that Daryl nearly did a one-eighty and left. But Rick pushed them forward, chuckling a little to himself at the face Carol was making.
"Sorry I wasn't there this morning." Rosita said, brushing off her hands. "One of the kids and their dog fell just before you got there, and Pete sent me to go check them out since they couldn't be moved. And by sent me I mean he was too intoxicated to move either, and I figured it was better he wasn't around kids."
"It's okay." Rick smiled, putting both women at ease. "Actually, we wanted to talk to you both about Warren, and what happened." He sat on the railing, and even with his easy posture, the air was tense. "There was an issue this morning with how the original residents of Alexandria treated him, and we wanted to make sure we told you why before they did."
"What happened?" Carol was immediately concerned, mostly for Warren's safety, and also partially because of how Rick had campaigned for weapons. Was this reason for them to move for a takeover? Rick shook his head, the movement slight, a signal that this wasn't that big, and that only concerned Carol further. It was silent for a moment, tense, both women wondering what the residents could have done.
"Warren's transgender." Daryl sort of spit it out, like he was firing off a gun with his words, like he expected one of them to freak out and this silence was wearing on him and he just wanted the worst moments to be done. There was a hot moment where no one reacted, and then the tension released. Carol nodded, understanding, still concerned and protective and above all loving, and Rosita, well, her oh! moment was almost a little excited. Which was new. She was sort of bubbling over at the news, and Daryl felt he needed to say something else before she exploded. "The residents don't like that so much. Just tryin' t'make sure nobody hurts him more than he's already been hurt."
"Well, you know I'd never do anything to him." Carol was sweet, motherly when she spoke. "With the way you've been on about him, Daryl, it's easy to see he's a nice boy, and it doesn't matter what he is, or was." Carol slipped over to the railing, using the clean, wet rag to attempt to clean Daryl's face. The hunter almost recoiled, but the cool rag felt good, and he probably did need to clean his face. He was covered in blood and sweat. When Carol spoke again, she was quiet. "If Sophia had come to me and said she didn't want to be a girl anymore, I wouldn't have loved her any less, and I don't consider Warren any different." She smiled, sincere in her words, and for a while it was quiet, nice, as Carol wiped off Daryl's face. Rosita was still about to bubble over, but she was quiet when they were, letting the silence linger comfortably.
"Do you know if he's on hormones?" Rosita asked, breaking the comfortable silence after another long moment. "Or if he was? Should I dig through the cabinets? I think I may have seen some testosterone. Or at least testosterone heavy steroids, which might help stabilize his levels in a pinch." She paused, looking at the slightly bewildered faces around her, and quickly realized she was speaking more or less jargon. "Testosterone, you know, that stuff you guys produce in truckloads." She paused, and the rest of the porch didn't look like this helped them understand at all. "You know transpeople usually take hormones, right? It helps the body develop in the way they need it. Transboys take testosterone, which redistributes fat from their hips, thighs and face, and it tones muscle. Transgirls take estrogen, which gives them hips and butts and boobs." She put her hands on her hips, smiling as Daryl seemed to get it, somewhere, and Rick stared on in obvious disbelief. Only Carol seemed to not be so confused, and even smiled as she finished cleaning Daryl's face. "I need to find you a book on this stuff."
"How d'you know so much?" Daryl asked back, more curious than suspicious. It was like suddenly Rosita was a fountain of information that he needed, right when he needed it. He made a mental note to talk to her more later. Rosita shrugged and gave them both a hearty, playful smile.
"Girl's gotta keep a few secrets. They didn't make me medical assistant for shits and giggles." She finished wringing out the second rag, and flipped it over her shoulder, almost a bit flirty. She liked being the queen of things-no-one-else-knows. "I'll just go digging for now, and when he wakes up I'll ask him. Even if he hasn't been on hormones before, I bet even getting a low dose will make him giddy."
Neither man on the porch thought to question it, because if Rosita knew more about it than they did, then she definitely wasn't a threat, and honestly was probably the most qualified to talk to people. But she had work to do, and they weren't going to stop her from finding whatever Warren might have needed. "You two go back to spreading the news." Carol said, ringing out the rag she had used on Daryl's face. "I'll help Rosita find what she needs and we can go watch Warren if you want. Take over for whomever's there."
"Michonne is there right now, but she probably deserves a break." Rick said, smiling. This was going fairly well so far, and his group were showing promising signs - there was a reason they were simply better than most of the Alexandrians, and this was one of them.
~o~o~
The next person they came across was Abraham. He was with some of the other men from the town, having just finished part of a construction job they were working on. He was sweaty, carting a large bag, but in a good mood, the day having gone well. He immediately approached them, sensing something was up, but unsure what it was. Daryl hung back, slightly tense. Of course, they both trusted Abraham - he wasn't a bad person - but he had a temper, and they had to be ready, just in case. Rick shifted, waiting for a long moment as the rest of the work crew filed off, leaving them alone in the streets. "What's up?" Abraham wiped off his hands with a rag from his pocket, then his face, dirty with hard work, picking the bag up from where he dropped it.
"Somethin' happened this morning." Daryl was the first to speak, Rick keeping his eyes on Abraham, careful, wary. This attitude towards him, Daryl's brief, frank statement, and the fact that the hunter looked ready to tackle him put Abraham on edge, like what they were going to say was bad. Before he could jump in, Rick spoke, hand out in a calming gesture.
"Nothin' that bad. We got a new member. His name's Warren." Rick was easy in his movements, but not relaxed. He was easy like a boxer is easy before the first punch, easy in anticipation of anything and everything. "Residents don't like him so much, beat him up 'n kicked him out last time. Wanna make sure no one else wants to take a swing at him." This lessened the tension, but only slightly, Abraham looking unsure. What could be so bad that the residents would physically have a go at him to the point where Rick was worried he'd do the same?
"Warren's transgender." Daryl said it, slow this time, watching Abraham's face with every syllable. As soon as he started the word trans, Abraham went red, heat all the way to the ears, like he may explode. But this wasn't the good kind of explode, and just as Daryl finished, the bag he had shouldered went swinging around, like he was trying to hit someone with it. Rick ducked it deftly, and it went sailing out to the side, and immediately Daryl was on the rebound. Tackling Abraham was harder than most, as the man's center of gravity was low, but Daryl tucked down low, and when they hit, Abraham went down. Of course, he swung out at the retaliation, meaty fists trying to clock Daryl in the face, trying to get him off, free himself. Daryl caught the fists, and pinned them, leaving Abraham squirming.
"Calm down." Rick bent over Abraham's face, kneeling there, watching the man turn himself red. "Calm down and talk to us." He was quiet, and eventually, Abraham slowed. He was still red, breathing hard, but he stopped struggling against the hands barely holding him, and Daryl let go. He didn't move from his perch on Abraham's waist, ready to take another hit, but the big man didn't move. "Why did you try and hit me with that bag?"
"I didn't swing for you!" Abraham was insulted that his motions were considered deliberately harmful. He pressed his own hands to his head, pushing up on his eyes. "God, fuck!"
"Ain't nothin' wrong with being what Warren is." Daryl spoke quietly, but his words were almost a growl, low and predatory. He was ready to start swinging, but his reply was greeted with a biting laugh, the big man under him unfazed.
"Fuck, I ain't mad he's transgender!" Abraham shook his head, and tried to sit up, and Daryl pushed back and let him, sitting next to him on the ground. They sat for a second, before Abraham spoke again. "World's a big dick t'people like him, already know that! Already got that shit on lock, already got my hands dirty keeping that kinda shit at bay, then it happens anyway! Fuck that!"
"What do you mean, you've already gotten your hands dirty?" Rick asked, immediately concerned.
"I mean, he ain't the first transperson I met, 'n he ain't the first transperson I know who got their shit busted by some redneck asswipes." Abraham pressed his head in his hands, rubbing his forehead. "Kinda done with people tryin' to beat on others for shit like that. Don't got the energy to keep fightin' them." He sighed, and they were quiet for a moment.
"Who else do you know?" Rick asked, softly. He was curious, but also concerned, because he really couldn't keep splitting the group like this, with some people knowing, some not, some defending one and others defending another. Abraham didn't answer, looking up, watching Rosita approach. She'd been watching from the porch - Carol having left to take watch - and heard them ask, and only now decided to intervene, extending a hand to help the bigger man to his feet. There was a long, long pause.
"Oh." Rick finally got it, finally got the look Abraham was giving him, finally got that understanding. "Rosita, why didn't you say something?"
"Well, for one, I figured you'd get it on your own with how much I just happened to know." Rosita shrugged, crossing her arms. "And honestly, it's better if it goes un-noticed. If Warren makes them mad enough to beat him, I don't want to know what two transpeople would do to the town." She smiled. "Let's just keep me between us, yeah? Save everyone the trouble of this whole thing again."
"Yeah." Daryl nodded, soft and appreciative now that he knew more. "Didn't wanna do this in the first place, but the rest of the residents probably would if we didn't." He shrugged, and Rosita seemed to understand, which made him feel better. If Rosita understood their reasoning, Warren would, and that made him feel less like he was doing this against Warren's will.
"Don't worry about me, or Abraham." Rosita smiled, and Abraham smiled with her, and he seemed more relaxed and okay now than he was. She was good for him, Daryl thought. And he was good for her, apparently. "Go do your thing. I'll go watch over Warren in a bit."
"Okay." Daryl nodded, happy now that everything had gone well so far. He turned to Rick, who nodded, and they turned to leave, heading towards the houses. They didn't get far, even though the streets were quiet and the people were inside and away from them like they were ghosts haunting their tiny town. Maggie came running, sweater all a flutter around her shoulders, looking worried.
"You need to speak to Gabriel." She said, gesturing down the street. Gabriel was speaking quietly to Deanna just outside her door, and they watched him glance down the street and become agitated when he saw them. "I couldn't stay for the conversation, he said it was private, but I heard him tell Deanna to cast out the sinners and save her paradise." Maggie was worried, and Rick tried very hard not to break into a run as they approached. Gabriel, seeing them coming for him specifically, tried to turn and walk away like nothing was wrong.
"Gabriel, can we speak with you?" Rick asked, catching him before he bolted. Gabriel turned, a smile on his face that didn't speak to being friendly, and he chuckled nervously.
"Words from the mouth of the wise are gracious." He replied, awkwardly, and Rick shifted, unsure whether that was a go ahead or a no. After a second, pregnant with tension, Rick decided it was a go ahead, and shifted backwards slightly, giving Gabriel his space.
"We wanted to talk to you about Warren." Rick was soft, calm, and Gabriel chuckled, waving off Rick like he didn't need to speak.
"The residents already told me." Gabriel's smile was uneasy, and Daryl hovered in the background, wary. The preacher seemed like he was trying to avoid the conversation, and he was tittery, nervous. "He that covereth his sins shall not prosper: but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy." He shifted backward as he spoke, obvious now that he was quoting scripture to them, and making them uneasy. "You do not need to wear yourselves out informing me. He is a child of god, and every child of god must be saved." He nodded, backing up more. "But I must go. I have people to speak to. They are uneasy with the boy, and I will comfort them."
"You sure?" Rick asked, still wary. "You don't have any questions?"
"I do not ask questions. I know God has a plan for us all." Gabriel nodded, and it seemed to take all his willpower not to run from them as he left, heading back down the road to his church quickly. The three of them hovered for a moment, all thinking.
"I'm going to go inside and talk to Deanna about what he said." Maggie crossed her arms. "Make sure he hasn't been trying to get us kicked out or something worse."
"Right." Rick nodded. "We'll talk to him again later, see if we can figure out what's up."
"He seemed jumpy." Daryl added, watching the road where the preacher had disappeared. "Like he didn't wanna talk to us 'bout it. I dunno what he was told, but I don't like it."
"We'll make sure nothin' happens." Rick put a comforting hand on Daryl's shoulder. "Gabriel couldn't hurt a Walker, I don't think he'd hurt Warren."
"His words are the thing we need to worry about." Maggie nodded. "And we can easily take care of that. He won't be an issue."
"He better not be." Daryl was posturing, but he was understood. If Gabriel proved a problem, Daryl would be the one to take care of it.
~o~o~
Carl and Noah were by the lake when Rick and Daryl found them. They were talking to each other quietly, Carl apparently trying to connect with someone nearer to his age. When they approached, Carl stood up, hands in his pockets. "You're here 'cause Warren, yeah?"
"How'd you know?" Rick was surprised, and Daryl chuckled softly behind him. Word was already spreading without them.
"We heard." Carl chuckled, shuffling his feet slightly. "People aren't quiet here. They talk too much." He shook his head, turning back to Noah, who hobbled to his feet. The paused a second, communicating with each other silently, like they'd discussed how they would address this even if they hadn't been approached. "Are they right?" Carl asked, softly. "Is Warren bad?"
"No." Daryl shook his head, bending slightly so he was more on level with Carl and Noah, looking them in the faces. "You think I'd wanna bring him here t'meet you if he was a bad person?"
"They're just angry because he's different." Rick agreed, smiling. Daryl had always been good with Carl, and the rest of the kids, and it showed. He'd let the hunter take this one.
"How's he different?" Carl was curious, honest, and Noah was listening like he'd learn without having to ask a single thing. "What does transgender mean?" He paused, looking first at Daryl, and then at his dad. Daryl looked to Rick as well, but Rick shook his head, and Daryl realized he was on his own. How would he explain this? He'd have to pull it out of his ass, honestly, as he only barely understood himself. But it was better than nothing.
"Warren was born a girl, like Judith." Daryl said, moving to sit on the arm of the bench, letting Carl and Noah gather around him. "But somethin' didn't work out, 'cause he's not a girl. He's a guy. Just it's all up here." Daryl tapped his temple, and Carl nodded. "So he's got some different parts 'n stuff, but he's a guy like you 'n me."
"So he's got boobs?" Carl asked, and Daryl chuckled, because of course a teenage boy's first thought it about breasts.
"Nah." Daryl shrugged. "Dunno what he did, but he ain't got any."
"And he doesn't have a penis?" Carl asked, a little louder. Noah sat next to him, looking around, like talking about penises was something they shouldn't be doing.
"I don't think so." Daryl shrugged. "I ain't pulled down his pants or nothin' t'check." He was slightly red in the face from trying to think about it, and the questions were starting to get into a territory he didn't want to answer.
"Then how does he pee?" Carl was almost worried, like not having a way to pee like a man, as a man, meant he couldn't pee at all. Rick chuckled, deciding it was high time he bailed Daryl out of the awkward situation.
"Just trust me, Carl, Warren works like a girl down there, and he's fine." Rick put a hand on his son's head and chuckled. "Don't worry about it. He's able to do what he needs to do."
"But how does he like, you know..." Carl tried to say something without saying it, and he was bad at doing it, and eventually Noah stepped in.
"He wants to know how Warren has sex with girls." Noah kind of chuckled, because he was somewhere between curious himself and too old for these kinds of questions. It was hard being slightly older but still uninformed, because he couldn't answer questions but at the same time he couldn't ask them either, because he was too old to be asking about this stuff. He did get the talk, after all, which apparently Carl hadn't.
"Far as I know, he don't." Daryl chuckled, actually happy he could answer something with confidence. "He said he was gay, so I think he likes guys." He shrugged, because as far as he could figure a gay guy liked guys, and it made sense to him. Carl took a moment to take it in, and then nodded, happy.
"Good for you, huh." Was the response from Carl, and Daryl frowned at him. "I mean... Nevermind." He giggled, and everyone decided it was better to ignore what was said and move on. Daryl was okay with that - he was starting to grow tired of the tittering behind his back from the people who thought there was something there. He was just protective. Warren needed it.
"So you're both okay?" Rick asked, gentle, taking the conversation away from the things they all knew but Daryl didn't. If even Carl could see it, but Daryl couldn't, then he knew better than to let them push him into a place where he wasn't comfortable. Everything in good time.
"I think we got it." Noah smiled, nodding. "I mean, you guys like him, right? Isn't that the important part?"
"Yeah." Daryl shrugged, a soft smirk on his face, looking behind him at the place where Warren was staying. "He's a good kid."
~o~o~
Tara had already been told when they found her. She had no qualms with it, and it felt good that most of their group were alright. But she had wanted to speak with Daryl privately, which was strange. Daryl didn't really know Tara all that well, and her asking to speak with him alone was weird and uncalled for. But she seemed insistent, and he agreed. They found a place between the houses that was quiet, and undisturbed, and Daryl leaned against the wall. "Yeah?"
"Look." Tara was forward, but nervous at the same time. "I know you've probably gotten a lot of shit lately, and I just... if you wanna talk to someone, I'm here, okay?"
"About what?" Daryl's eyes narrowed, and he frowned. Gotten a lot of shit? What the fuck was she talking about?
"You and Warren." She tried to smile, and it was half-forced and awkward, but the sentiment was shared. "I know everyone's talking about you both, and just... I've been through this kinda stuff, you know?" She shrugged. "Like, not knowing how you feel, 'cause you've been a thing for so long it's weird to not be..."
"I'm fine." Daryl was gruff, but it wasn't any kind of angry. He understood - this whole thing was weird. He didn't really like thinking about it, because it was overly complicated, and he couldn't talk to Warren about it, because that was weird. It was hard enough doing this kind of thing without the apocalypse going on, but with Walkers added, it was hard. It was hard to think about Warren as anything more than someone to protect when everyone around them was trying to hurt him. And they'd only known each other for a few days, and it was almost a little too much. But the sentiment was understood.
"Just let me know, okay?" Tara reached out and awkwardly punched Daryl lightly, playfully, like she was trying to be a good friend and sort of failing at it, because no one told her Daryl wasn't like that. But it was okay all the same. It was okay, because Daryl got to have some quiet time, and a friend he could talk to if he needed it, and all was well.
"Daryl!" It was Rick, followed by Rosita, heading their direction. They were jogging, not running, and they seemed calm, even with the urgency in Rick's tone. "Can you watch Warren for a moment? I need to find someone who can cover the watch shift while we find Eugene or Sasha." Daryl didn't answer, his only response heading for the house. He'd been all day without seeing Warren, and it would be good for him to see the boy again. Maybe he was awake, though his sleeping face was so peaceful, Daryl almost wouldn't wish the waking world on him.
The house was quiet as he approached, and he sensed something was wrong. The door was open, for one. They rarely kept doors open, as that was an invitation to enter, and they didn't want random residents just barging in. It was their space, and no one else's. He paused at the foot of the stairs, tense, ready. He could feel it, right in his gut, that something was up. The stairs creaked under his feet, and he wished they wouldn't, tried to take back every moment when he wanted the house to make noise because now he needed silence. The lock hadn't been forced, he noticed, and the door was silent on its hinges, letting the hunter peer inside without announcing his arrival.
Warren was asleep in his bed, but he was not alone. Gabriel, clad in only a t-shirt and his pants, stood by the bed, head down. There was no one else around, and Daryl watched for a moment, hesitant. Gabriel wouldn't do anything. He was just praying to himself in low tones, repeating, over and over, the same phrase, "May the Lord bless you and keep you;May the Lord make His face shine upon you,and be gracious to you. May the Lord lift up His countenance upon you,
And give you peace" as though he were making a personal communion with someone in the room. And while the slightly crazed cadence to his tone, the rushed, almost panicked bounce to his repetition was strange, was a little worrisome, there was nothing inherently wrong with Gabriel feeling like he needed to pray over the sleeping newcomer.
It was when the silver blade flashed in the light that Daryl's hair stood on edge. Gabriel was clutching a long knife, unused, shined so it was bright in what little light there was, the blade facing down. Gently, slowly, eyes closed, still chanting, louder now, he raised the blade above his head, poised to bring it down. And Daryl, seeing him moving, did the only thing he could think.
He jumped him.
Gabriel went down hard, hitting the floor and shifting the bed several feet away, the bottom end skidding on the wood floor. The knife clattered in one direction, and the pair struggled for a hot minute, but the preacher was absolutely no match for Daryl's strength. He wasn't a fighter, and it was obvious, as Daryl pinned him easily and broke his nose in a hit, blood splattering across the floor. But Daryl wouldn't stop swinging, because he made a promise - no one was going to hurt Warren. And Gabriel had been ready to kill him. The preacher was crying, sobbing hot tears, even as Daryl beat him about the face, bloodying his lips and bruising his eyes.
"Daryl!" And Rick was back moments later, Rosita and Glenn right behind, the sound of their fighting sending them running, and he pulled Daryl mightily off Gabriel, holding the struggling hunter even as he tried to fight back. Gabriel, being freed, immediately went for the knife on the floor, brandishing it at them, all of them and not just Daryl, eyes wide and crazed.
"He must be cleansed!" Gabriel shouted, watching Rick let Daryl go, watching Daryl shift forward like he was going to tackle him again and readying his knife like he would actually use it. "He must be cleansed! God sent her to this earth in a body that was defective, that believed her to be a man, and changing one's image away from the one that was given to you is a sin! He is unholy, and she is suffering, and she must be cleansed and sent to the kingdom of heaven to be reborn correctly! She will be reborn correctly, as the woman god meant her to-!"
He didn't get to finish. Daryl was on him like a dog released on prey, swinging hard at his already bruised face. Suddenly faced with having to fight, Gabriel attempted to swing, and the knife did bury itself in Daryl's shoulder. But it wasn't a big enough knife, and Daryl didn't care, and once unarmed Gabriel was too weak to fight back. There was nothing he could do, as Daryl floored him with another hit to the face, and brought him back up with his arms pinned behind his back.
"I was on your side." Rick said, venomous, hatred pouring out of him. "Until you opened your mouth." He reached up, pulling Gabriel's face to him. The man was pathetic now that he was put down and unarmed. "You wanted to murder him in cold blood."
"She must be reborn or she will never be happy as the woman she is meant to be." Gabriel took a long moment to speak through the blood in his mouth, but when he finished, Rick simply clocked him across the face.
"Attempted murder is a crime." Rick lowered his head, looking Gabriel in his swollen eyes. "And I'm going to show the rest of Alexandria what it means to commit a crime with me around." And he was threatening, deadly, serious with his accusation. "Glenn, take him to the basement in the other house and lock him in. We'll deal with him later tonight." He straightened, watching the exchange, watching Glenn take the pinned, bloody man from Daryl's arms, Daryl ripping the knife from his shoulder and twisting his arm around to make sure he could still use it. "We need to figure out what we're going to do to him." Rick paused, looking at Daryl bleeding slowly onto the carpet. "We need to make an example of him. We need them to see that we're serious. No one touches Warren."
~o~o~
Daryl's second set of stitches took them all of twenty minutes, as Rosita was deft at the art, and Daryl was too angry to feel the pain. It made him livid to think that someone had actually tried to kill Warren that was in their group. Someone that they trusted, someone that he had nearly gone to in confidence to talk about whether he should bolt, someone that he was thinking of talking to about Warren of all things, because he was a preacher and they were supposed to be trusted. Preachers were supposed to be trusted. But Gabriel had renounced his faith just as soon as he had raised his blade.
He was sitting, grumpily, wanting to go bury his fists into Gabriel's face like it was putty, like he was molding clay into something, something flat, on the porch of their house, unwilling to leave again. He didn't want the same thing to happen, and he was lucky, as Eugene came to them not long after, wanting to talk. Rick sat on the stairs, and Daryl on the porch, and he came and sat by them, awkward, thinking already, trying to find words. When he spoke, he spoke slowly.
"I do not mean to offend, but I am seeking to understand. Maggie told me about what Warren is, and I cannot seem to wrap my head around the concept." Eugene was picking words, and that, in itself, improved Daryl's mood, because at least he was trying. "Why would someone want to alter their physical self? Biologically, the brain is hardwired to the genitals, so would that not mean that therefore the sense of gender imposed by society would match that?"
"It's not that simple." Daryl grumbled. He was in almost too angry still to speak correctly, but he was also trying. "You're talkin' like we're animals or somethin'."
"At the basest level, we are." Eugene was adamant about his biology, and Daryl stood, pacing on the porch, trying not to just leave and bury his head in the sheets and try and forget that anyone ever tried to fight it. Why couldn't everyone just be okay? "At the basest level we are animals, and there are no other animal species that react in that way to being assigned the incorrect sex. I cannot seem to understand how we are so different."
"It's not about biology." Rosita was the one that chimed in, having walking outside from checking on Warren's condition. "It's not about animals. I mean, come on Eugene, of every animal out there we have the highest brain process, and you're surprised we're not the same? We went to the fucking moon before the world ended, we were in space!" She tromped down the stairs, flopping next to him. "You're just not thinking about it right. Stop wondering why someone would want to become the opposite gender, and start this way: What if you were mistaken for a woman so much that you had to pretend to be one or get hurt." She poked his chest. "What if you bled every month, and had back pain, and when you said you were a man, they laughed at your face and said no? What about that?"
"I had never thought about that." Eugene looked pensive, staring at his shoes.
"No. That's the issue. Just don't worry about it. Biology isn't a perfect thing. People die because their biology fucked up and gave them cancer. Just let him be happy." Rosita put a hand on his shoulder. "Just don't worry about it. Think of him as a guy."
"Would it be wrong of me to ask him questions when he awakes?" Eugene asked, twiddling his thumbs.
"Don't push him." Daryl stepped in, hovering over them, leaning on the column. "He ain't too good with tellin' stuff. He'll tell you if you go too far, 'n if you do, stop."
"I believe I can hold myself to that." Eugene smiled, a little happier and more content. "I apologize if my questions were too forward."
"Nah, you're good." Rosita chuckled. "We just had a previous issue. It's not you, promise." She patted his shoulder, and he was quiet, and for once in the past hour Daryl felt more okay. He felt at ease, okay now that the danger had passed. Gabriel was it. One bad apple, and that was it, and the more Daryl saw the people come together around Warren, the better he felt.
It was almost immediately shattered. Maggie came running up, panting, out of breath, Michonne right behind, and they looked panicked. Of course. Who was even left to tell? "One of you come talk to Sasha." Maggie said, between pants. "She won't listen to us."
Rick stood, and of course Daryl joined him, because he was Rick's right hand in these kinds of things, and he was also probably one of the few honestly willing to punch Sasha in the face. He was willing to punch just about anyone in the face when it came to keeping Warren safe, really. They were led out of the compound, outside the walls, and they only had to go a ways before they could follow the shouting on their own. Michonne stayed with them, ready, because if anything she could be the calming voice if Rick went nuts.
Sasha with Carol, who had stayed to make sure she didn't just run for it. She was screaming, gesturing wildly, more livid than Daryl had ever been. "It's not fair!" She was mid rant, waving around a knife like she was defending herself with it, but no one was attacking. "She can't just do that! It's not fair!"
"What's not fair?" Rick was quiet, and she turned on him, approaching him with knife drawn. Daryl stepped up, face up against that knife, not afraid of her hand or her blade. He'd already been stabbed once today, and she stepped back.
"She can't just not be a woman!" Sasha gestured towards the general direction of the camp. "That's not fair! I spend my life, every day of my life, suffering because of my womanhood! I hurt, and bleed, and I hurt worse when I don't bleed, and I have to live with that out here! I do, and Michonne does, and Maggie does, and Carol does! We have to live with being sanitary out here, with pain, with more blood than any of you-" She swept her blade across the faces of the men, pointing to both of them in turn, "-and she should have to do the same! She shouldn't be able to just say she's not a woman anymore, like she can just turn that off!"
"He ain't just doin' it 'cause the world ended." Daryl stepped up, in her face, a dog at the end of its tether, his rope reaching its end. "He ain't just sayin' fuck bein' a woman to not be in pain! He's in pain, he's been in pain, and he's nearly got beat cause of it! You think he woulda chosen to get the shit kicked out of him? You think he woulda chosen t'have people hate him?" He was in her face, and she pushed right back.
"You think that's worse?" She was wide eyed, incredulous, tired, even. "You think that's honestly worse? I would gladly get hurt to just make this all stop!" She pushed him, and it didn't deter him, only making him posture against her harder, almost nose to nose.
"He didn't wanna get beat, you think of that? But he did, cause he ain't a girl, and that ain't shit you gotta worry about. You ain't gotta worry about bein' attacked at night by people you trust." Daryl got in her face, nose to nose with her, dangerous against her fury. "You ain't gotta worry 'bout shit. All you gotta worry about is what happens when you fuck with Warren." He growled, low, and she turned on him, fury rekindled.
"Where was that when Bob died?" Sasha shouted, half in tears now, fury coming from sorrow and hatred now. "Where was that when Tyreese died? You barely cared about them! You care more about this half girl than you ever did them! You could have saved them, either of them, but you didn't! What makes her special? What is it that makes her special?" Sasha swung at Daryl, the knife grazing his cheek as he tried to dodge, blood coating the blade. "What makes her better than either of them?! They're both dead, and you're going to such great lengths to make sure everyone treats her like a fucking flower!"
"He isn't special." Michonne stepped in, quickly, before Rick could muck it up more. "Sasha, he's suffering just as much as you are. But he's alive. And we need to focus on taking care of our living. I know losing them was hard. I know how that feels."
"You don't!" Sasha swung out at Michonne, and the sword was drawn quickly, blocking the blade. Sasha stepped back, caught off guard, the fury in Michonne's eyes matching her own.
"Don't tell me what I don't know!" Michonne snapped, quiet in her fury. "Don't tell me I don't understand. We all do. We've all lost people. We've all lost loved ones. And we've all moved on, Sasha. We've all put it away for the nights when we miss them the most, but we don't dwell on it, and we don't blame other people for their losses. Warren has nothing to do with either of their deaths."
"Sasha." Rick stepped up, the calm one in the group, and Sasha paused, fury stilled. "We're not asking you to accept him. We're just making sure you won't hurt him. He's one of us now. Take your time. Deal with what you need to. But don't blame us for protecting our own." He put a hand on Daryl's shoulder, pulling him back. Michonne sheathed her sword, crossing her arms, watching the boys back out of the situation. "Stay out here until you've cooled down." He nodded.
"Fine." Sasha crossed her arms, looking away from them and into the forest. "I don't want to be near her anyway."
"Him." Daryl corrected. "You ain't gotta like him, but you better respect him 'n not keep callin' him a she." He paused, voice quiet. "We at least did that much for Bob 'n Tyreese." He turned, leaving them on that note, uncaring whether they followed. He needed to be alone for a while, and while he wanted to escape into the forest, he was drawn back into the walls, back behind the suffocating closeness that was the steel and beams keeping them trapped in, because he would be damned if Warren woke up when he wasn't around.
~o~o~
He stayed there the rest of the day. It was peaceful, being the only one there. Warren was quiet, breathing softly, having little change since he'd been lain there. Daryl took the time to relax, to study the sleeping, peaceful face, the lithe fingers. He would run a finger down Warren's hand and watch the boy's eyelashes flutter slightly, long against his cheeks, lips shifting slightly. It was nice. He liked that. He liked watching Warren sleep, imaging his smile when he woke, his grey eyes bright.
He was there for several hours, and he spent a lot of it thinking. Thinking about the things that everyone else saw. Was this what most people felt for others? This need to stroke his hands, to watch his eyelashes flutter, to see those grey eyes? He wasn't sure. He'd need more time, he realized. He needed more time to think, to sort out the pieces of those thoughts, and to figure out what liking someone even meant. It wasn't like he'd honestly felt that before, and the idea of the emotion was foreign, let alone the emotion itself. He couldn't call it by name if he tried.
"Hey." Rick was quiet, watching Warren stir at his voice. This was good - maybe the boy would wake up soon. "We're holding a town meeting. I'm dealing with Gabriel."
That was news that Daryl honestly didn't want to care about. He didn't want to care about Gabriel, he didn't want to care about dealing with him. But he needed to be there. He was the spokesperson for Warren when Warren wasn't there. He wanted to stay, but he had to go. He grumbled, standing, following Rick out into the square. Everyone else was gathered, wrapped in shawls, gathered around a fire. Gabriel was being held at the back, in the shadows, away from the rest of the party, and Daryl hung back as well. He didn't want to be seen, not out in the open. He didn't know what Rick was going to do.
Rick stepped up to the fire, lit from below with hot red, eyes almost a little too crazy to be a leader, but everyone hushed anyway. He paused a moment, letting his eyes cast over the group, before he spoke. "Most of you know by now we have a new member of our community. His name is Warren. Most of you already know him. He lived here once, and he was removed, forcibly, and in a violent fashion. Then, it wasn't dealt with. The people who hurt him were not punished. But things are changing. I made Deanna a promise - I am now the one in charge of dealing with people who hurt him. She had a chance to deal with the problem, and ignored it. No more." He paused, gesturing Abraham forward. He was the one holding Gabriel still, and he pushed the preacher forward, making him kneel by Rick's feet.
"The preacher, Gabriel, attempted to commit murder today. He was found in our house, with a knife, trying to murder Warren. Because of his actions, he will be punished, and he will be punished as an example. No more of Deanna's little punishments, no more of this wrist patting nonsense. You're dealing with me when you hurt him, and I'm not as kind." Rick pulled a pistol from his belt. His silver pistol, his safeguard, front heavy, and he aimed it at Gabriel's head. The preacher started to pray, softly, in a shaking voice, and Rick let him finish.
"Let this serve as a warning: This is what happens when you hurt my people." Rick cocked the gun, and without even looking, pulled the trigger.
The gasp and shock rippled through the crowd as the body dropped to the floor. Abraham was on hand immediately, ready to carry the body out of the gates and dump it on the road, a signal to all that would approach that the people here were no longer incapable. That they would fight, and win. The crowd tittered, on edge, and the dismissal was as simple as Rick's exit, heading back for their own abodes. Daryl followed, wanting to get out of there. The scene had too many people who were too expectant for an explanation of why things weren't normal anymore, and he didn't want to have to provide.
Carl and Judith were waiting in front of the house, Carl bouncing the baby on his hip. Rick quietly took the child, the little girl gurgling at him happily. "He's awake." Carl said, softly, and Daryl bolted for the door. This was the one thing he promised himself, and he hadn't been there. Warren was sitting up when he got in the door, and he paused. The boy was smiling, red in the face, happy now, and that's all Daryl could have hoped for. "I heard what you did." Warren chuckled. "Going around, making sure everyone knew."
"Didn't want nothin' t'go bad." Daryl was almost a little embarrassed that he was found out. But instead of being mad, Warren chuckled, summoning the hunter to his bedside with a soft pat on the sheets.
"Thanks." Warren smiled, weak still in body, but fully sincere. "That was brave, taking care of me like that. I couldn't have done it." He chuckled, looking up as Rick entered the room. He was carrying Judith still, who gurgled at Warren when she saw him. "You have a baby?"
"Yeah. My wife... passed away, so it's just me and Carl and her." He bounced the baby and she reached for Warren with tiny, grabby hands.
"May I?" Warren asked, and he was so gentle as he took her and sat her in his lap. She giggled, and he was immediately taken, making faces at her and letting her grab at his clothes and hair. He would coo, and she would giggle happily, loudly even. He would hide his face for a moment, and she would laugh when he would re-appear, grabbing at his hands to keep him from hiding again. Watching him play with the girl, Daryl made a decision. No one would hurt Warren again, and anyone who had needed to be taught how to be a real man. Like how his brother taught lessons, with fists. Because the boy was too good, and too kind, to live in a world where the people were just as deadly as the Undead.