"Rick? Rick!"

Rick looked up at Daryl, his eyes a bit out of focus. "Daryl, is that you?"

"Yeah. Y'all right? Can y'move?"

"I'm stuck. I think my leg's broken. I can't shift this stuff." Daryl could see at least two dead walkers in the rabble around Rick.

"I'll come down."

Daryl carefully got down on his knees, then lowered himself into a sitting position, legs dangling into the pit. It was about eight or nine feet deep. He wasn't sure this was the smartest move, they might both get stuck in this hole. In his condition he might not be able to free Rick and get them both out again. But lacking a better idea he tried to lower himself in carefully.

The drop was greater than he had anticipated, and it jarred both his head and his ribs. He tried to straighten up from where he'd landed, but his knees gave way and he crumpled to the ground. He stayed where he was for a moment, head down, eyes closed, just trying to get his breath back, get over the nausea.

"Daryl, are you all right? What happened to your arm?"

When he looked up he saw that Rick's eyes, despite his own impossible situation, were full of concern.

"'s that headache. Got careless, fell through a floor."

Daryl tried again to stand and this time succeeded. He went over to Rick and assessed the situation. He'd already moved quite a few bricks off his legs, but Daryl could see where the problem was. A beam had fallen and wedged itself in such a way that Rick couldn't reach some of the large parts of concrete that pinned it to the floor. His lower leg was trapped at an uncomfortable-looking angle. At least Daryl couldn't see any blood.

Daryl put down the crossbow and was just about to crouch down to see how best to tackle this with only one functioning arm when Rick spoke again.

"Come here. You look ready to keel over, take a break first."

Rick half sat up and reached a hand out to Daryl, and actually helped him down to the ground when he relented and came over. Daryl leaned against the wall at an angle to where Rick was lying so that he could see his face.

Rick looked at Daryl with a worried frown. "You don't look so good, man. Here," he felt the ground next to his side and produced a water bottle. "Drink something."

Daryl shook his head. "Save it. You'll need it soon."

Rick looked at him sternly. "Drink. Don't argue."

Daryl relented. He accepted the bottle and took a sip. The cool liquid soothed his throat. He hadn't even realized how parched he was. It had been stupid of him to leave without water. One more thing for the list of stupid things he'd done that day.

"What happened?" Daryl asked finally, gesturing at the debris.

Rick snorted. "I was being stupid. These two here," he pointed at the dead walkers, "came at me and I managed to get them to fall in here. Unfortunately, that wall there then decided to come down and throw me in, too. Have been trying to get free ever since."

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Rick shook his head. "I don't think so. That leg's hurting like a bitch, though. Otherwise I'd probably been able to wriggle it free."

"Let's get you out." Daryl half crawled, half clambered over to where Rick's leg was trapped. It took him almost an hour to dig Rick out, and by the end he was feeling faint from the effort. He'd had to stop several times, put his head between his knees and let the sickness pass. And as much as Rick was trying to help he couldn't reach most of the rubble that was trapping him, and the heavy lifting fell to Daryl. He didn't mind, of course, but with one arm, and the constant pain, it was no easy job.

Then, finally, Rick was able to pull his leg free. Daryl had to lift the beam that had pinned it down only a couple of inches, but the effort had been considerable. He let go of the beam the moment Rick was free and it dropped with a thud. There was a ringing in Daryl's ears and his vision faded to black. He tried to catch himself with his good arm as he fell but he came down hard enough for a stab of pain from his shoulder that knocked the last bit of consciousness from him.

-.-

Daryl woke up with his head in Rick's lap. He blinked, trying to remember where they were and why he was lying on the ground. Then it all came back, and with it the pain. His shoulder must have hit the ground after all, it was shooting daggers of pain through him now with every heartbeat. Daryl groaned, willing himself not to be sick.

Rick brushed some strands of hair off his forehead. "You fell pretty hard, did you land on that shoulder?"

Daryl nodded. Rick said, "This will sound like a terrible idea, but I don't think we'll make it out of here unless I set that arm."

Daryl nodded. He'd had the same thought.

"It'll hurt."

Daryl gritted his teeth.

"I know. Jus' get it over with."

Rick shrugged off his jacket and placed it under Daryl's head. Then he scooted around to Daryl's right side, staying off his own injured leg. He took Daryl's arm in both hands.

"Why d'you know how to do this?"

"Carol showed me. Try to relax, this is going to be bad."

Daryl looked away. He tried to breathe normally and to let go of the tension, both of which seemed impossible. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't have batted an eyelid at a dislocated shoulder. Merle had set his arm for the first time when they were still kids, after Daryl had fallen out of a tree, and he remembered it hurting, but only for a second. Now, just Rick holding his arm was agony.

Rick of course was as gentle as he could be, and still Daryl was trying to suppress the urge to writhe away. He finally felt a pop in the shoulder, then everything turned briefly black again. It didn't take him long to come round, but when he did he was shaking and covered in sweat.

He met Rick's eyes, which were full of shared pain. "I'm sorry, man."

Daryl shook his head, trying to sit up. "Never mind, had to be done. Let's get outta here."

They both weren't exactly sure how to start, but finally settled on climbing out via the rubble, which gave them some foothold to work with. Daryl supported Rick as he clambered out first, then slowly clambered up after him. There was a moment of panic when Daryl's foot slid on some loose scree and an agonizing pain in his side almost made him lose consciousness again. He braced himself against the rim of the pit and rode it out. Finally, the sensation subsided and he was able to scramble out fully.

Both of them collapsed on the ground, panting hard. This had been bad, but Daryl knew the next bit would be worse.

"Need t'get back quick as we can. T-Dog said more'n more walkers are headin' our way."

Rick nodded. "I came in over the fence, but I don't think we can go out that way, in this state. There must be a gate, let's try and find that."

But as Daryl shifted his weight to try and get up Rick put his hand on his arm. He leaned in close and kissed Daryl gently. Daryl leaned into the kiss, grateful for a moment of tenderness in this haze of pain and desperation. When they broke apart Rick looked at him with such intensity, it felt to Daryl as if the other was desperately trying to commit every inch of him to memory.

"I knew you would find me." Rick's voice was low, and he didn't sound entirely pleased. "I was hoping you wouldn't risk it, wouldn't wager your own life for mine, but I knew you would. This," he motioned at Daryl's shoulder, his head, "is what I was afraid would happen. That you'd come, no matter the consequences."

Daryl felt a stab of sadness, but then Rick continued. "And yet, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad you came. That it was you who found me. If we don't make it back, at least the last thing I see in this life is you."