They were an hour out. He was pushing a hundred the whole time and Rick still could not relax. The gas was almost out though so they started to look for fuel whenever they saw a car or a shop with nothing to prove.
"We lost the food, and now we are gonna walk with crazy men after us." Lori says, arms crossed. Rick would not even deal with her right now. Carl stood by T-dog, farthest from Lori but he held the same stance. Everyone else just looks like they are pondering and planning. Trying to help figure a solution. He doesn't blame his wife or his son. Not for the Shane problem. Carl still comes to him from time to time. He cannot forgive Lori for what her actions said when he told her about Shane. He cannot forget what her eyes say every day they look at him. Why not you? Rick walks along the road. Farmland on each side. Walkers dot the distance, not much to worry about, unless more gather. Rick sighs, looking toward the woods, to find a place. He looks to the group, at their faces, then back to the distance. Walkers are gone, vanished. Rick feels something but it wasn't like before with the need to survive. It wanted him to keep looking. So he looked, he saw a faint metal shine amongst the trees before Hershel grabs his arm.
"We need to keep moving, find a place. The nights are getting cold now and we don't have the supplies to keep us warm now." Rick takes one last look and follows the old man to his group. They all pile in the car till it finally stops and can't go any more. Everyone steps out, knowing to grab what they could carry and walk. Rick stayed in the car, staring at the steering wheel but not seeing it. A nightmare within a nightmare, he thought this world couldn't get any crazier, but it proved him wrong. A yell from T-dog sounds from outside the car. Rick snaps to attention to see a small heard of walkers coming right for them.
"Carl get back." Lori cries. He was going for the sheriff hat that he remembers hearing Carl throw in a fit of frustration. It was across the road. He shot two walkers down with five bullets and right as he grabs the hat, a walker grabs him. Rick was out and half way across the road when they swarm his son. Rick pulls out a gun he took from the dead men from before, and shoots two walkers. A howl from the woods distracts him momentarily and after he takes down another of the ten, a silver wolf jumps from the trees, sending three flying. He stands over Carl, curled in a ball, and whips two away with his tail, breaking their spines, swiping another two and throwing their heads far from the limp bodies. Rick continued to shoot as the machine from before finishes the others. Once all are dead, Rick stares at the wolf, standing tall on all fours. Extensions were added to his front to make him stand more naturally. He didn't move. He only stared.
"What do you want?" Rick growls. It faltered in its stance then collapses next to Carl. He gets up and looks him over.
"Dad, he's bleeding badly." Rick jogs over and kneels before the machine man. Before he even touches him the exoskeleton shifts. It retracts back to just lining the body revealing the man underneath covered in leather straps. He had a gunshot that goes all the way through and a sprained ankle.
"We- we can't do anything. We have to keep moving." He wasn't even convinced by his own words. He saved them, twice. And he didn't even know them. Hershel puts a hand on Rick's shoulder.
"That farm house doesn't look bad. The fences are tall. We could try looking over there to rest. Bring him so we can at least treat him for all he has done for us." He remembers when they last held a stranger. And that same night all hell broke loose. But something was different. The feeling from before, of him looking into the distance, searching. Who is this man? Why does he feel that it will be ok? Rick nods at Hershel's idea and moves to inform the group. T-dog carries the man as they make their way across the property. They saw no walkers all the way up to the house. Rick and Glenn take lead, followed by Maggie and Carol. They burst in, clearing every room. Rick goes up stairs once the first floor was cleared. The others search the house for supplies and T-dog brings his load upstairs and into the master bedroom, once Rick loudly whispers "clear". Hershel still had his minimal supplies and started working. He cut off the leather leaving the man bare. T-dog excuses himself. Rick stands by the bed.
"Rick, this was in one of the straps." In Hershel's hand was his colt. Maggie and Beth rush in with towels and what they found in the house. Beth then said she was going to search the fields with T-dog for some herbs to help treat the wound. "Rick, he's waking up." The man stirs and they all freeze. He jerks awake and Rick holds him down swiftly.
"We ain't gonna hurt you, just trying to treat your wounds. If you struggle much more you'll die." He lies their stiff, eyes filled with fear as he stares at Rick. Rick nods to Hershel to continue. He flinches and Rick tries to take his attention. "We don't have much to help numb ya so it will hurt a bit. What's your name?" He tries to speak how he used to. But he could feel how gruff it was despite his efforts. The man breathes hard and fast as Hershel continues to work on him. He growls and closes his eyes.
"Why you care?" very rough, also southern. Redneck crosses Rick's mind.
"Want me to call you dog or robot?" he made a slight joke with that but the Redneck stiffens and opens his eyes for a glare.
"Fuck you, and its Daryl, mother fucker." He mumbles the last curse, voice weak as if he isn't used to using it. Daryl is the mystery guy's name.
"I'm Rick, he is Hershel and that's Maggie." He nods to each one, not letting go of him, in case he attacks out of shear panic. He apparently noticed.
"Get the fuck off me Officer Friendly." Rick raises a brow at that and eases his hands back to his side. Hershel finishes not long after that.
"Rest now, you got to us just in time." Daryl snorts. They had put him under the blankets not long after they undressed him, probably best since he woke up right after that.
"How'd you find us?" Rick asks Daryl, who was staring at the now closed door.
"Smelled for ya." Rick took a moment to figure that out. Must have been why he had the colt but how could he? Maybe the suit.
"How'd you end up with that suit? With that group?" Daryl ignored him. He was stiff and Rick guessed he wasn't good with people around him.
"Why'd you help us?" he turns over, his back to him. Rick growls in annoyance, stands and walks out. Before he shuts the door he hears him say one word.
"Instinct." And so he shuts the door and rejoins the group downstairs. They all are gathered in the living room. Once he steps into said room they turn to look at him, an obvious question on their mind.
"We stay the night and leave in the morning. Without him." Before, they may have asked him to reconsider, but he ordered it, which is law now. "He saved me." His son says. Carl has yet to go against him. And now he is making his resolve crumble when it wasn't fully supporting his own order in the first place. He says nothing. Carl continues to stand as Rick turns his back and goes upstairs. He isn't even sure why but he stands outside that room. Listening. Waiting. The sun goes down on the house they stay in, and Rick listen to his group reinforce the windows and doors. Rick can't move. Can't stop wondering about Daryl. He can't explain it, nor control it. Control. He needs it otherwise everything falls apart. Daryl can't stay. Rick can't help but be filled with anger with himself, with him. Glenn walks up once the group settles. He held clothes in his arms.
"We found him a change of clothes." He makes no move to go in. he waits for Rick to tell him. Instead Rick takes the clothes and goes in. The man lay sleeping. But he notices his breathing change slightly. He lays the clothes at the foot of the bed, stands for a minute, caught between the want to continue talking and the want to leave. He opts to leave and stands outside the door yet again. Hershel approaches from the stairs.
"We leave a good man to die?" Rick knows he'd die if left in such a state.
"He's not our problem." Hershel shakes his head.
"He saved us, he saved your son. If he's not our problem then we deserved to die back there." He leaves Rick, not giving him the opportunity to say anything further. So instead, he paces. And at the other end of the hall, he punches a hole in the wall. Below, no one stirred. Rick leans against the wall and slides down, going into a catatonic state till morning. He was awakened by Carol.
"He's gone. He left through the window. Carl is gone too." Everything was a blur. Rick gets ups and stalks outside in a frenzy, screaming for Carl till Glenn all but tackles him to be quiet. He has them spread out. A circle from the farm house out. They all stay within sight of each other. He walks to the other end of the property and turns back to see Carol walk into the barn not far from him. Carol felt something, much like a tug she gets when she looked for Sophia before the apocalypse. How she knew where she hid no matter what. She heard Carl's voice, as if he were coaxing an animal out of hiding.
"I wanted to say thank you. Daryl right? How did you get that machine attached to you?" Carol goes to the back and finds a stall filled with hay. She sees a dark figure hiding in between them, as if it was a house with the hay bells as its bricks. It was almost cute. If the man, Daryl apparently, wasn't glaring daggers at the boy. But if he were dangerous, he wouldn't have saved Carl. If he were a bad man, he wouldn't have fought to go against the men who had him. She takes off her back pack and pulls out a can of beans she had found last night. She was saving it for Lori, but she is pretty sure Daryl needs it more.
"Carl, if he doesn't want to talk let him be." She kneels next to Carl, who stares on in childlike wonder, something lost from him long ago.
"It's just so crazy though. He is like a comic book character." Carol tosses the can to him.
"We won't hurt you. You don't have to come out, but you can have that." Daryl crawls out carefully. He had a metal tail swaying so naturally, Carol did a double take. The place where the helmet was now lays like a crown and two pieces of metal that stand like ears. He grabs the can. His hands have thin metal rods tracing where his bones are, all the way up to his fingers creating small claws. Daryl uses them to open the can and drinks from it.
"You have met Carl, I'm Carol. So your name is Daryl. Thank you for all you've done." As he scrapes the insides of the can, the trio hears the bar door open. Daryl drops the can but when he goes to jump back into his shelter, his ankle gives out, making him fall into them. Rick appears to see the aftermath as Daryl pulls himself out of the hay. He was sweating and wincing from obvious pain.
"Carl, you know never to leave the group like that. Carol, take him back to the house." They all move to do what he says. Carl gives him a pleading look. Rick gives him no sign of acknowledgment. Daryl tries to stand but ends up falling back on the hay. Rick moves toward him, cautious but showing no sign of fear.
"You keep moving like that and you'll reopen the wound." The metal ears move as if hearing him. He snorts.
"Like you fucking care. I was wrong about you." Rick moves closer to him.
"What are you wrong about?" Daryl spits at him, eyes filled with a fire that looks to have been waiting to burn free. Rick almost smiles, it was a sight that made him feel right, almost relaxed. He closes the distance and Daryl tries to move back but is stopped by the mound of hay. He attempts to kick him and punch him but, in his weakened state, Rick easily subdues him, hands down at his sides, Rick leaning over him. Fear, Rick's heart turned so tight it hurt. He was afraid of him, no, afraid of what he could do.
"Let me take you back so you can rest. We can afford one more day then we will head out into the woods. You need to be at your strongest." He squints at him, not trusting him but no longer fighting back. "I'm gonna let you go but you have to promise you won't fight." He continues to glare but nods slightly. Rick lets go and he dodges to the side to get some distance. Rick lets him regroup and gets close enough to extend a hand. He growls like the dog he is compared to, metal ears going down to his skull. He doesn't move, just lets his hand stay in reach. Slowly, Daryl stops growling but keeps glaring till he moves his hand towards Rick's, Daryl's claws brushing Rick's fingers and the barn door opens.
"Walkers, we need to leave." Yells Glenn, Rick grabs Daryl and supports his weight. He growls low but allows Rick to pull him along.
"Get the others, we go into the forest, lose them in there." He half runs, half walks Daryl to the edge of the property. The rest follow not far behind his slow pace. As they make their way into the woods, he lists them all to make sure they all made it. T-dog brings up the rear and he continues on as the Walkers take the house. Carol had set a boiling pot of tea on the gas stove. The Walkers took the bait, letting them escape with only a few stragglers. As they went Rick carried Daryl. Twice he was offered to take a break and let the others carry him. Twice he looked into Daryl's eyes he tried to hide behind his hair. Both times, his eyes told him only he was allowed to touch him. Why? Rick couldn't fathom. He was not kind, nor gentle. He saw his hands as cruel instruments, and the world, untrustworthy. But Daryl continued to let him hold him, carry him. The sun set on them and they have no shelter in the middle of the woods. "We camp here, Glenn, take first watch." Glenn takes his spot on a log as the others prepare for a restless night of uncertainty. Rick knows Daryl wants space, so he takes him to the outer edge of the group. Daryl eases himself from Rick's hold and plops down against a tree, its roots cradling him. He says nothing. Rick knows he won't. He stays by his side though. Waiting for the group to pass what food they have. Carol comes over bringing a plate with a scoop of peaches and beans each.
"Sorry, we are out of utensils." Rick felt a bit sheepish. He ate his two bites as Carol goes and hands it to Daryl. His head sways against the tree and attempts to grab it. As Rick lets go, he catches it from falling out of Daryl's hands. He was exhausted. Rick takes the plate and sits next to Daryl. He was going to hold it till he could himself but Daryl growls low, to not be heard by others.
"Feed myself. Fuck off." Rick actually felt his lips tug upwards. This man, in a time span of a day and a half, has accomplished the impossible. He made him smile. So Rick sits by him, waiting, as the others sit together, waiting till they can sleep despite their own restlessness. Daryl looks almost gone now. So Rick attempts what might end with him losing a finger. He scrapes a small bite of the beans and hovers it to his lips. Daryl almost passed out opens on instinct. As he chews, Rick sees him awaken enough to realize what just happened. When he swallows a growl comes from his throat. "Ain't nobody's pet." This conversation is certainly strange.
"Never said you were." Rick scrapes the last bite of beans to his lips and Daryl glares at it, but takes it anyway.
"Got a death wish?" Rick takes a peach on the spoon and offers it.
"Would you grant it?" then the last. Daryl says nothing after that. Simply chewing the last of the rations and goes back to sleep. He wasn't scared of death. He was afraid of losing those he cared about. Cared enough for to stop being human in a world of monsters. But Rick looks at Daryl as if he was something that could fix that. He had hope for the first time. If not for him and his group but for what he sees this man could do. What he can become. What he already is.