Rick hadn't expected it to be easy, bringing a convalescent after major surgery home with him, but he was still surprised how quickly it turned bad. But Daryl had been improving steadily while in hospital and had managed fairly well in the last few days, so Rick was not prepared.
Daryl was quiet on the drive, but he often was so Rick didn't pay much attention at first. When they had about another 20 miles to go, however, he noticed Daryl's hand wandering onto his abdomen on top of the incision scar.
"Are you all right?" Rick didn't much like fussing but he couldn't help being concerned.
"Jus' feelin' a bit rough."
Rick knew this tone of voice well enough. Daryl was fighting the nausea they'd thought he'd left behind.
"Do I need to pull over?"
Daryl shook his head. "Jus' get there quick."
It wasn't quite quick enough. When Rick had parked on the curb in front of his building Daryl had unbuckled his seatbelt and was out of the car before Rick could offer any help. He was doubled over, retching into the gutter behind the car by the time Rick got out. Rick had had his own experiences with puking into gutters, but his had usually involved a pleasant evening first. He felt desperately sorry for Daryl now, and just wanted to get him inside, cleaned up and to bed.
Daryl finally straightened up, steadying himself on the trunk of the car and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Sorry."
"What for? None of this is your fault." Rick thought to himself that if anything this was his fault alone, making Daryl unwell yet again. He'd pushed for him to be released as quickly as possible, and it looked like it had been too soon. He briefly considered to just take him straight back to Atlanta, but dismissed the idea almost straight away. Putting Daryl through another car journey was surely a terrible idea.
It took them a long time to get up to Rick's apartment. Rick supported Daryl with an arm around his middle, but he didn't want to exert too much pressure in case he hurt him more. Getting up the stairs felt like it took forever. Even though it was only one flight of stairs they had to stop several times so Daryl could get his breath back. He was leaning on Rick more and more heavily, all strength he'd built back up seeming to drain away.
When they got in the door Rick said a silent prayer.
"Bed, or sofa?" He asked, breathing heavily himself now.
"Closest," was all Daryl managed, and Rick steered them toward the sofa. He lowered Daryl as carefully as he could but saw his face contort with discomfort all the same.
"Want to lie down?"
Daryl shook his head, exhaled slowly and leaned back into the cushions, letting go of some of the tension. He closed his eyes, and Rick sat down next to him. He was in need of a rest, too. He looked at Daryl with concern. His face was very pale, there was perspiration on his forehead and his breathing sounded forced. Rick felt a new stab of guilt for hurting Daryl again. He got up, got a wet cloth from the bathroom and a glass of water from the kitchen.
"Drink some of this. Do you want something for the pain, or some Tigan?"
Daryl shook his head but took the glass and drank some water. Rick sat down again and put the glass on the coffee table when Daryl handed it to him and leaned back again. Then Rick placed the cloth on the other's forehead.
Rick leaned into Daryl, trying to transfer some strength through physical contact. Daryl responded by leaning close as well with a sigh. Rick put his arm around him and held him in a gentle embrace. Daryl's head came to rest on Rick's shoulder. They stayed like this for a good while.
The day wasn't great after that. Rick had gotten Daryl into bed and dosed up on meds because he could tell he was still in pain and struggling not to be sick again. Daryl had slept the afternoon away peacefully enough, but Rick had no success in convincing him to eat dinner when he finally woke up. He just wanted to go back to sleep. Daryl had a bit of a temperature again, nothing like as bad as during the kidney infection, but Rick decided to call Dr. Edwards anyway.
The doctor asked Rick to look at Daryl's abdomen, so Rick woke him up reluctantly. Dr. Edwards instructed Rick how to check for any tenderness around the incision and asked Daryl a couple of questions about the pain. When Daryl handed the phone back the doctor didn't sound too concerned.
"I think he just needs rest. Give him plenty of water, even if he doesn't want to eat anything, and stick to the prescribed amount of painkillers. No more, but also no less, so that his body is relaxed enough to continue healing."
Rick left Daryl to sleep in his bed on his own and camped out on the sofa, to give the other man as uninterrupted a night as possible.
Rick was woken by a dull thud in the middle of the night. It took him a second to remember why he was on the sofa with a crick in his neck, and another to work out what the sound meant. Then he was up and through the hall to the bedroom in a heartbeat.
Daryl was crumpled on the floor, struggling to pick himself up. Rick stepped over quickly and crouched down. He pulled Daryl up as carefully as possible and sat him down on the side of the bed. Then he switched on the ceiling light.
"Are you all right?" Rick looked Daryl over but couldn't see any injuries, or even too much indication of pain on his face.
"I think so. Stupid, useless..." Daryl's hands balled into fists and he dropped his head.
"Hey." Rick crouched low, like he did when he tried to get Carl's attention. "You're all right. I'm glad you didn't hurt yourself. It'll just take time. We need to be patient."
Reluctantly Daryl nodded.
"Now, where were you trying to go? Bathroom?"
Daryl nodded. Rick helped him there, waited out in the hall and the helped him back to bed.
"Just call me next time, ok? The door is open, I'll hear you."
He turned to go, but Daryl took his hand.
"Stay here? The sofa must be several feet too short, and if you're here you'll know if I'm about to do something stupid. You won't keep me awake," he added, interpreting Rick's expression correctly.
So Rick retrieved his pillow from the living room and settled down next to Daryl. He had to admit that this was many degrees more comfortable than the sofa. And Daryl was right, he wasn't kept awake by Rick. He'd actually dropped back off before Rick was lying down properly. Rick watched him sleep in the gloomy light from a street lamp. Finally, Daryl was looking peaceful and free of pain, and Rick felt a great tenderness welling up. He was determined to make this work, and having Daryl here made him feel like they could finally move on to the next step.
Rick had taken half of Thursday off, but considering Daryl's condition he woke up with the decision to make it the full day. He was still agonizing over it mid-morning when his cell rang.
"Hey, Carol. Everything ok?" Rick had never made this the first question in any conversation as much as recently.
"I'm fine, thanks. How are you two?"
Rick rubbed his eyes, then looked over at Daryl who was dozing on the sofa.
"To be honest, it could be better."
Rick moved into the bedroom, half to prevent Daryl waking up, half because he felt guilty for complaining.
"He's still a lot weaker than I realized. And I can't take much more leave before they start asking questions."
"I can stay with him whenever you need me to. Sophia is at school until late most nights. I arranged that ages ago so she'd be home as little as possible, what with Ed... Anyway, just say the word. In fact, I can come now, if you want."
"Are you serious? I was going to call work to let them know I wasn't coming..."
"Course I'm serious. I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to. I owe Daryl, and you. Just give me your address and I'll be there."
Carol had been true to her word. She'd arrived within the hour, and she'd brought food.
"If you get him to eat anything, then you are my hero," Rick said, indicating the dish.
"I've also got some cookies in my bag, he won't be able to resist those." Carol's eyes twinkled when she smiled.
Daryl had been delighted when Rick had told him that Carol was coming. After a reasonable night's sleep he was looking much better. Rick showed Carol in, pointed out where everything was, and Carol busied herself with the kettle right away.
"I must dash," he told her. "I can't tell you how relieved I am to have you here." He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Carol looked surprised but pleased.
"Not a bother at all. I'll stay until 5.30, is that late enough?"
"Definitely."
Rick went over to the sofa and bent down to kiss Daryl. It was starting to feel more normal.
"See you later."
Rick was back at quarter past five and found Daryl much improved. Carol had indeed managed to get him to eat lunch, and had made them a casserole for dinner. She left them to go and pick up Sophia.
Daryl was in a better mood than Rick had seen him since the accident, and he was nothing short of relieved when Daryl showed some real enthusiasm about dinner. It was delicious, and certainly an improvement over hospital food.
They watched some TV afterwards, and Rick delighted at the normalcy of it all. When Daryl, who was lying outstretched on the sofa with his head in Rick's lap, started to nod off Rick decided it was time for bed. It was only half past nine, but he wasn't sorry to have an excuse for an early night himself.
When they had brushed their teeth and slipped under the covers Daryl nuzzled close to Rick again. Rick could feel him shifting for a moment then, unexpectedly, felt Daryl's hand on the waistband of his boxers.
He couldn't help his body responding immediately to the touch. His own hand slipping under the covers he explored the body next to his, but before he could reciprocate by pushing past Daryl's waistband Daryl pulled away a little.
"No," he said. "Just you. I can't climb all over you yet, but I can do this." His hand closed around Rick's shaft, his voice was a mere whisper. "Let me do something for you, for a change."
Rick obliged, and leaned back. It was a gentle sensation and since Daryl's left hand was still in a splint and he could only use his right it was slow and deliberate. But after weeks of tension and no relief this was the best gift Rick could imagine.
Daryl was very good at this. Rick gave himself over to the sensation and his thoughts were more unburdened than they had been in weeks. He could feel Daryl's warm breath on his neck and savored the sensation of the body pressing against him. He could feel Daryl's erection against his thigh and was almost tempted to reach for him again. But he remembered what had happened the last time he'd tried to do something to Daryl when he'd said not to, and desisted.
Instead he just savored every bit of the feelings the deliciously slow strokes on his cock elicited, feeling Daryl's heartbeat against his side and the other's arousal. It did not take long for Rick to climax, and it was one of the best orgasms he could remember.
The next day passed in a similar vein. Carol stayed with Daryl most of the day, and when Rick came home he found them laughing in the kitchen.
"We made dinner," Daryl announced, about as proud as Carl when he'd gotten an A on a piece of homework. The thought of Carl gave Rick a stab to the heart. He had spent another frustrating lunch hour on the phone with various lawyers, court officials and even the secretary of one of the judges at the county's court house, to no avail. The date was set, nothing was budging. Still almost three weeks before he would be able to fight for his son.
He pushed the thought away, since brooding would only make him take out his frustration on others, and he certainly didn't want to put a damper on Daryl's evident recovery.
"Any chance you can stay with us for dinner?" he asked Carol, but she shook her head.
"Sophia will be home in half an hour."
"Why don't you and Sophia come over for lunch on Sunday? I am sure Daryl and I'll be able to manage mac and cheese, or something equally unhealthy."
"That's be great, thank you!" Carol smiled while pulling on her jacket. "See you then."
They had the excellent stew Carol and Daryl had made and then retired to the sofa again. Rick could see the tiredness that had started to creep into Daryl's eyes during dinner and he pulled him in to lie on his lap again. Daryl curled up with a content sigh. But after a moment he looked up.
"Are you ready to tell me what's going on?"
Rick was slightly startled but turned the TV to mute. "What do you mean?"
"You've been about a million miles away since you came back."
Apparently Rick wasn't the only one who'd become good at reading a man's innermost thoughts. Or maybe he was just really bad at hiding his frustration. Rick steeled himself, and nodded.
"If you want, here goes... The night I first met you, I had just that day moved in here. My wife and I had split up. She told me over the phone that she wouldn't let me see my son unless a judge compelled her to.
"And the Saturday after that, when… you know…" Rick lost his train of thought and just stared at the TV, unseeing. Daryl's hand came up and gently alighted on his cheek. Rick looked down. Daryl's eyes were sleepy again, but he held Rick's gaze firmly. Rick couldn't look away, he seemed to lose some of his worries in the clear, brilliant blue.
"You don't have to, you know? If you're not ready…"
But Rick shook his head. "No, I am ready. And you deserve to know what set me off that night. On the morning of that day I called Lori again. My ex," he added for clarification. "And she told me that… that she and my best friend, and partner in the force, had been sleeping together for two years…"
He couldn't go on. The memory came crashing down like a wall, of that moment on the phone when he'd been consumed with rage, when all he'd believed to be true and right in his life had been uncovered as a lie.
Daryl sat up, then, without Rick really being aware. He faced Rick and pulled him close, and suddenly Rick found himself crying against the other man's shoulder, great sobs shaking him together with his rage. He hadn't even known that this had been brewing under the surface.
They stayed on the sofa curled into each other for a long time. Finally Rick pulled away and they went to bed without so much as exchanging a word. That night, Daryl was the one who held Rick.