The next week was a blur of activity for Rick. He went back to King County Sunday afternoon, with reassurances from Dr. Edwards that they would call him the moment there was a change with Daryl.
Ed was in custody. Rick didn't have any details yet but the sheriff's deputy who had arrested him told Rick that Carol was safe.
On Monday morning, before he even got to the office Rick made a phone call and requested to be put on desk duty for the foreseeable future. He did this with a heavy heart, but he knew that if he didn't drop some of the balls he had in the air it'd be him who dropped next.
When he got to the station he sent a more formal request to his superiors asking to be reassigned a new partner. The sheriff's office was not large, so Rick wasn't sure how well he'd be able to avoid Shane. He also wasn't sure what he'd do when he would lay eyes on him again. His best guess was that he'd sock him in the jaw.
In the end he didn't. Rick kept to his desk most of the day and only glimpsed Shane once, as he strode through the office, head down as well, avoiding Rick and seemingly anybody else.
On Tuesday Rick had a meeting with the sheriff to discuss his requests, which were granted without fuss. He also got permission to take all his overtime, and as needed any unpaid leave. The sheriff was sympathetic, presumably assuming Rick needed the time to sort out his family troubles. Rick didn't disabuse him of that idea.
Rick had never taken off that much time all at once but he didn't feel too guilty. He had people depending on him elsewhere, and he wouldn't let them down.
The first thing Rick did with the additional time off was to really press the case for a hearing before the custody judge. Finally, on Thursday, the long awaited letter with the court date arrived. Rick cursed when he had ripped open the envelope. The date was set for six weeks later.
Rick was still fuming when his phone rang. He recognized the number, Dr. Edwards had called him several times that week already, always with the same update. Daryl was stable, no change.
"Dr. Edwards. What's up?"
"I wish you'd call me Steven. I don't call you Officer Grimes, either."
Rick had to smile, and relaxed. If something was wrong the doctor wouldn't waste time with chit chat. Rick liked Dr. Edwards, he had been more than helpful. Steven, Rick reminded himself.
"Sorry. How is he?"
"Good news, Rick. His tests are coming back better every day. We want to bring him round tomorrow afternoon. Will you be able to be here? It'd be good if there was a familiar face around."
Rick was less optimistic that Daryl would want to see him, but the doctor didn't know what had happened on the night of the accident.
"I'll be there for 2pm."
Rick was standing near the door, trying to stay out of the way of the doctor and nurses around the bed. He also tried not to think too much about what they were doing. Medical procedures always made him feel a bit faint.
"He's fighting the vent, which is good," Dr. Edwards said over his shoulder for Rick's benefit. "We've been lowering the amounts of anesthetics over the last 24 hours, and he's started to come round. We can now take the tube out."
Rick nodded but didn't look too closely until the doctor turner to him again after about ten minutes.
"All done. He's not fully awake yet but it'll not be long now. He'll be quite hoarse from the tube and won't be able to talk much for a while. He might also feel nauseous from the drugs." The doctor indicated a basin sitting on the bedside table. "Be prepared."
His pager buzzed and he briefly looked at it, then back at Rick.
"I'll have to answer this, but I'll be back soon. Doris here will stay with you both." He indicated the nurse still busy adjusting equipment. She looked up and smiled at Rick.
"If there's anything either of you need, let her know." With that Dr. Edwards left the room.
Rick went back to his seat by the bedside. He'd spent many hours right here in the last week and had gotten somewhat used to the sight of Daryl with all the needles poking and prodding him, but now he felt new waves of anxiety. What if Daryl reacted badly to his presence, as Rick knew he would have any right to?
He watched Daryl's face, no longer perfectly still as before. His forehead creased almost to a frown every so often, and his eyes seemed on the verge of opening several times, as if he was struggling with all his might to come out of the drugged sleep. It still took almost an hour before he fully opened his eyes. The nurse had just left the room for the first time, reassuring Rick that all was as it should be and that she'd be back shortly.
Rick noticed Daryl moving his head in his direction and leaned closer. He took his hand again carefully and spoke quietly.
"Daryl. Can you hear me?"
Finally Daryl's eyes opened and he looked at Rick with a glassy, out of focus gaze.
"Daryl, it's Rick. You are in the hospital, don't be afraid."
Daryl tried to speak but no sound came.
"You've had a tube in your throat to help you breathe. That's made you very hoarse. It'll take some time to pass."
Rick wasn't sure Daryl had really heard him as he tried again to speak.
"Wha'...happen..."
"You had an accident with Merle's motorcycle. You've been here almost a week."
Rick could see the information penetrating Daryl's fogged mind. He suddenly looked panicked, even tried to sit up. Rick could see a dark cloud in his eyes as pain was descending on Daryl. He gave up the attempt before Rick could say or do anything and closed his eyes with an almost inaudible groan. Rick put a hand gently on Daryl's shoulder and held him fast until the pain passed. Finally Daryl opened his eyes again.
"Carol," he mouthed.
"She's safe. Ed is in custody. Daryl, we can talk about all of this when you're stronger, but Carol is in no danger now."
Daryl looked briefly relieved, then suddenly the little color left in his face drained away.
"Feel... sick."
Rick was glad the doctor had warned him this might happen. Without the mental preparation he was sure they would have made a mess of it. As it was he grabbed the basin just in time and helped Daryl lean over.
By rights there should have been nothing in Daryl's stomach to come up, since he'd been on IV nutrients only for a week. The only thing to bring up, Rick mused, would be bile, and judging by the time Daryl was bent over retching there was a lot.
When he finally leaned back on the pillows Daryl's color had gone from white to grey, he was shaking and covered in perspiration. Rick could see tears streaking his still bruised face.
At that moment the nurse came back. Rick was glad to hand her the basin, and she disappeared for a moment, returning with a cool wet cloth and ice chips.
"I'll do it," Rick said and took the cup and cloth from her. He briefly wondered when he'd turned into such a possessive man. He'd done all right caring for Carl or Lori when they were sick but he'd never sought out any unpleasant tasks.
"Make sure he only takes a little ice at a time." Doris smiled and disappeared again.
Rick went back to Daryl's side. The other man's eyes were closed, and his right arm was cradling his chest. Rick carefully placed the wet cloth on Daryl's forehead, at which Daryl opened his eyes.
"Are you in pain?" Rick could see the answer in the other man's eyes.
"I'll call the nurse." But at that Daryl reached out and put his hand on Rick's arm. He shook his head and whispered, "'s ok... f'now."
Rick acquiesced and sat back down.
"Here, have some ice."
Rick held out a small sliver on the spoon the nurse had brought with the cup. Daryl let Rick put the ice in his mouth but Rick could tell that he was fighting hard to keep his eyes open. He set the cup and spoon aside and picked up the cloth again.
Gently wiping away the sweat from Daryl's brow and smoothing some strands of hair from his forehead he put his head close to Daryl's and whispered, "Get some proper sleep now." When he looked at him again Daryl was fast asleep.
Rick stayed at the hospital the rest of the day and spent the night curled up on the armchair Dr. Edwards had had an orderly bring in a few days after Daryl had been admitted, when he'd realized that Rick had spent a night sitting on the chair by Daryl's bed.
At one time during the night a shrill beeping noise from one of the machines around Daryl's bed had woken Rick and he'd been on his feet in seconds. Before he could do more than cover the distance to the bed a nurse had been there. She calmly looked Daryl over and reattached the pulse oximeter to Daryl's forefinger.
"Nothing to worry about." She smiled at Rick. "Now that he's awake he'll move in his sleep and things might slip off. I'll turn this to silent, we monitor it from outside anyway."
When Rick woke the next morning, neck stiff, not feeling very rested and yet with a hopeful feeling, he thought that someone was looking at him even before he opened his eyes.
When he did open them Daryl's head was turned in his direction and he was observing Rick calmly. When he realized Rick was looking back at him he smiled.
"Morning."
The voice still sounded hoarse, but it was recognizably Daryl's. The hopeful feeling in Rick intensified. He got up, stretched and stepped over to Daryl's side. His eyes looked much clearer than the previous night.
"How are you feeling?"
Daryl grimaced. "Like I got hit by a truck."
"It wasn't a truck." Rick said, sitting down in his usual chair. "But you got hit all right."
He leaned forward a bit. "Daryl, what happened?" He hesitated a second. "Did someone beat you up before you had the accident?"
"T'was Ed. Rick, you said Carol is safe?" His eyes were pleading.
Rick nodded. "She is fine. Ed's in custody. Local PD won't tell me any more, but I am not letting up until they do.
"Of course, to keep him away we'll have to do more. Daryl, are you willing to press charges?"
Daryl took a deep breath, then winced. There was definitely a lot of discomfort still, and Rick made a mental note to bring in someone with pain meds soon.
"Yes."
Daryl nodded, letting out his breath slowly to avoid more aggravation. He looked at Rick.
"I'm fuckin' terrified, but I will."
Rick took Daryl's right hand again. He had some things to say, even though so far Daryl had given no indication that he was holding a grudge.
"I want to apologize, for what I did on that night. I can't stop thinking about how none of this," he waved vaguely at the room, "would have happened if I hadn't lost it."
Daryl made an impatient noise. "Don't beat yourself up, man. I'm not blaming you. It was my decision to go round to Ed's house.
"'Sides, I know you weren't really angry with me, I just caught the tail end. 'sides, you've made it up to me ten times over. You helped Carol. And you are here, with me."
There was so much gentleness in Daryl's voice, it made Rick's throat go tight.
"Do you want to tell me what's going on? I might not be a great talker, but I'm good at listening."
Rick squeezed Daryl's hand but found he couldn't look at the other man.
"I will, sometime. But not now."
Daryl's thumb was stroking the back of Rick's hand, just like Rick had done countless time in the last week.
"Fair enough. I won't be going nowhere soon, so whenever you're ready."
In the afternoon Dr. Edwards came by to inform them that Daryl would be transferred to a different ward.
"Now that you are breathing on your own and are making good progress you'll not need all this stuff." He indicated the beeping machines.
"We just have to take out the last couple of drains from the incision." He looked at Rick. "Do you want to step out? With Daryl awake," he smiled apologetically at them both, "this is not going to be very pleasant."
Rick would have sooner cut off his own arm than leave Daryl's side when there was guaranteed to be pain.
"I'm staying."
Dr. Edwards nodded. "Good. You can help. Stay on Daryl's right and hold his hand. Works better than any pain meds. Which I'll give as well, of course."
He motioned to the nurse who inserted a needle into one of the IV lines. Then the doctor folded down the sheets to expose Daryl's midriff. Rick hadn't actually seen the surgery site before, and while he wasn't too keen on all of this he couldn't look away. Dr. Edwards carefully pushed the hospital gown up.
The incision went down the middle of Daryl's belly, starting just beneath the sternum and trailing all the way down to his belly button. There were two drains still sneaking out between the stitches, and the sight of these bloodied tubes made Rick look away.
"You look a bit pale, man." Daryl sounded tense himself.
Rick sat down and took Daryl's hand again.
Dr. Edwards said, "Don't look now, Rick, just focus on something else. Daryl, I'll start pulling the first one out now."
Daryl's hand gripped Rick's hard. Rick focused on the other man's face, which was draining of color again. Daryl closed his eyes, his brows knitting together in discomfort, biting his lower lip hard. When the first line was out he relaxed somewhat.
"One more," Rick heard the doctor say.
This time Daryl gave a low moan as soon as Dr. Edwards touched the line.
"Sorry, Daryl. I think there's a bit of an infection here."
Daryl turned his face away, but Rick saw the single tear running down his cheek. He cried out when the line finally came free.
"All done."
Dr. Edwards made quick work finishing up, affixing some gauze on the sites where the drains had been - Rick couldn't help but look again – and pulling the gown and sheet into place.
"I'll add some antibiotics to your meds to clear up that infection. It's nothing to worry about, really, and everything else is looking good." He smiled at them both. "Sorry about this, but I can promise there won't be any more torture today. I've upped your painkillers too, Daryl, so try and get some rest now. They'll be in soon to transfer you, but you don't need to be awake for that."
With that Dr. Edwards left. Rick looked at Daryl and was glad to see his color returning slowly.
"That was unpleasant."
Daryl grimaced. "No shit." His eyes looked glazed again and were starting to fall shut.
Rick reached out and stroked his still pale face. He'd not done this so far, it felt quite nice.
"Go to sleep now."