That night changed things between them. Rick was more open with Daryl about his frustrations, and shared his disappointments and his anger more frequently. It helped them become closer, but it also highlighted for Daryl how little he himself still shared with Rick.
He still hadn't talked to Rick about Merle, half hoping, with every day that went by without hearing from his brother, that maybe he'd just lost interest in haunting Daryl. He never quite believed it, but tried to think about it as little as possible.
He had also not talked about his scars, and had avoided being completely naked around Rick. Their focus had been on the big incision on his abdomen, and the pain that had created, and it hadn't come up again.
And anyway, Daryl had too much experience in hiding his back, he didn't even find it challenging under these circumstances. Rick respected Daryl's wish to be alone when he showered, as long as Daryl left the door open a crack, just in case. Daryl hadn't even attempted a shower until he was positive that he could manage it without help, for precisely this reason. But Daryl knew that Rick wouldn't forget.
Carol still came over sometimes, but now it was mostly to teach Daryl how to cook. A week after arriving at Rick's he was strong enough to go out for the first time, and he and Carol went to the supermarket to buy all the ingredients for a veritable feast. Rick had also given Daryl some money to buy new clothes as Rick's didn't fit him very well. Rick had deflected all protests at the expense and just smiled a mysterious smile when Daryl had asked him how he thought this paying for two could work in the long run.
So he and Carol had hit some department stores and got back to the apartment laden down with goods. Daryl felt bad for being unable to help Carol carry in all the shopping, but, as several times before, this new and unfamiliar exertion had taken its toll and he could hardly stand up with exhaustion. Luckily he recovered more quickly now and after a couple of hours rest he was able to help Carol in the kitchen.
Rick picked up Sophia on his way home and brought her along so they could all enjoy dinner together. Both Rick and Daryl had taken a shine to the girl immediately when she'd come for lunch with her mum on that previous Sunday. She was quiet and well-mannered but had an exceptionally quick mind, and Daryl in particular loved talking to her. They had started making up stories together, which apparently was Sophia's favorite hobby. She told them proudly that she wanted to be a writer when she grew up.
Being with Sophia had an unpleasant side effect on Rick, however. As much as he laughed with her and obviously adored her he became almost depressed when she and Carol left. He'd talked to Daryl about it that first Sunday.
"When she left I remembered just how much I miss Carl."
There was little comfort Daryl could give, other than repeating what Rick knew already. The judge would be unlikely to award Lori sole custody, not with Rick's job and standing in the community. Daryl suspected, even though Rick never said it directly, that Rick worried about what their relationship would mean for the judge's opinion. It made Daryl feel hurt, even though he completely understood the Rick's thinking. He just wished people weren't so narrow-minded. But as he'd heard someone say once, fear shrinks the brain, and the more afraid people are the more stupid they get.
Rick had gone back on patrol duty once he was sure that Daryl was managing well with Carol's help. The only person to pair him up with had been that idiot Leon Basset, but Rick didn't mind much. Anything was better than paperwork. And anyway, if his still secret plan came to fruition none of this would matter.
It had been ten days since Daryl had been released from hospital. He was getting better steadily, and Rick felt relieved that they could concentrate on returning to some semblance of a normal life.
Daryl still slept a lot and was still exhausted at the end of each day, but Rick could live with that. It made for peaceful evenings, and he'd been in dire need of some of those. At night Daryl had given Rick a hand job occasionally since that first time, and Rick enjoyed it very much. He just wished he could reciprocate, but Daryl always stopped his hand.
"I'm frightened it'll hurt too much to come. Let's wait a bit longer." Rick had not pressured him.
On this morning, after Rick had put on his uniform in the police station changing room and had just picked up his weapon from the gun locker, his phone rang. It was an Atlanta number he didn't recognize.
"Officer Grimes speaking." He had an inkling what the call could mean. He motioned to Leon who was waiting for him by the door and mouthedWait by the car. If this was the call he had been waiting for he wanted some privacy.
Ten minutes later he joined Leon outside, not entirely able to hide a grin. Rick threw Leon the keys.
"You drive for a change."
Leon didn't say anything but kept looking at Rick curiously, clearly on the verge of asking why Rick was grinning. Rick ignored him. Nothing could upset him today.
After responding to two unexciting calls – a man trapped in his vehicle by accident and an old woman looking for her cat ("Remind me again how this is police work," Len complained, but still Rick ignored him) Rick suggested that they take a break.
"I need to go home to sort out something quickly. Why don't you drop me off at my place and then get yourself a coffee?"
Leon had that curious look on his face again, but Rick only said, "Eyes on the road while driving."
Rick had decided, on the spur of the moment, that his good news could not wait until the evening. He had to tell Daryl as soon as possible.
When they approached his condo, however, all thought of good news fled his brain. An unfamiliar car was parked half on the curb. Rick recognized it as an old Mercury Marquis. It was a monster of a car, old and battered but at one point had been clearly expensive.
Rick's gut feeling for danger had been honed by years of being a cop. There was something going on here, he was certain the moment he saw the car. This kind of car was not something you saw in his street, or even in this town.
"Stop the car." Rick's voice was low, but Leon obeyed at once. They were about fifty yards from the condo. With the hand already on the latch Rick said, "When I've gone, back up and get out of sight. Call for back-up, two cars at least. Call an ambulance, too."
"Rick, what…"
"Just do as I say. This is serious." He looked at Leon. "You know these cop shows you like? You will be a hero just like these guys after tonight."
Rick didn't even wait to see Leon's reaction to this. His mind was focused on getting to Daryl.
Rick's feet made no sound on the stairs. He went carefully across the landing to his door, almost holding his breath when he put his ear close to it. He immediately could hear a voice. Whoever it was didn't bother to keep quiet. Rick mentally corrected himself. He knew exactly who that voice belonged to. Then he heard a second one, this one unfamiliar. He could not make out any words.
There was only one thing he could do. Daryl was in there, and if Rick was right, Merle was, too. He had to go in now and end whatever was going on. Rick pulled his gun from his belt and released the safety. He stepped back a few paces, grounding his centre of gravity. Then he kicked in the door.
The three men in the room froze. Rick was in the doorway, using the surprise effect to take in the situation in a glance. Daryl was kneeling on the floor. There was blood on his face from what looked like a split lip, and Rick was dismayed to see him clutch his side again.
But the heart stopping realization was the knife against his throat. Merle was towering over Daryl, holding the blade pressed against his windpipe. There was already blood beading around the blade. Rick knew that one mistake now could have deadly consequences.
Rick hardly noticed the third man at first. Only when he wheeled around at the sound of the splintering door did Rick zero in. He was in his mid-forties, tall and handsome, but what struck Rick most were his eyes. Even across the room he could see that they were cold as ice.
Merle recovered surprisingly quickly. "Well, if that isn't Officer Friendly. Philip, this is Rick Grimes, my little brother's boyfriend."
Rick focused his attention back on Merle. "Let him go right now, and nobody gets hurt."
Merle snorted. "How fuckin' likely do you think that is?" He pulled Daryl back roughly by the hair, pressing the blade in harder and Rick could hear a whimper escaping from Daryl's throat.
"Shut up, you pussy! Rick, this little shit here owes me a lot of money, and since he's useless at everything but putting out I've decided he can pay off his debt by servicing my clients and business associates. That's what he wanted to be, wasn't it? A little whore."
Rick couldn't look away from Daryl's eyes, which were now brimming with tears. It was astonishing to see what effect his brother's devastating judgement could have on him, even in this situation.
"Merle, this is my last warning. I am not a patient man, and you are threatening the man who is more important to me than my own life. I have a gun. This is not a good combination, and your chances of getting out of this alive are wearing thinner every second." Rick's voice was low, but everyone in the room knew that he was deadly serious.
He thought he could see a flicker of fear in Merle's face. Good. Rick estimated that he could talk them all out of this in the next five minutes.
Then he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The man Merle had called Philip was reaching behind himself and was just pulling a gun out of his waistband. He had it half raised by the time Rick pointed his own revolver at him. Rick didn't hesitate, he aimed, and fired.
The man gave a howl as blood spurted from what remained of his hand. The gun clattered to the floor, and the man clutched his hand against his body, collapsing.
Rick faced Merle again. "Last warning."
For a moment Rick didn't know what direction it was going to go. He kept his weapon trained on Merle's head, to be ready to shoot him before he managed to hurt Daryl properly should he decide on that course of action.
But then Merle let the knife drop, let go of Daryl's hair and stepped away. Daryl crumpled to the floor.
Rick looked around. He hadn't even noticed his colleagues coming through the door. There were two men with guns drawn and pointed at Merle either side of him, and one more crouched over the man lying on the floor bleeding. Rick only vaguely realized that that was Shane.
He had no eyes for anything now but Daryl. He was at his side in under three seconds, but it felt to Rick like the longest walk of his life. He crouched down and gently touched the other's shoulder. Daryl was lying almost prone, only supporting himself on one elbow. His right hand was still clutching his side and belly.
"Talk to me, man. Where are you hurt?"
Slowly Daryl looked up, trying to push himself into a sitting position. Rick helped him until he was more or less upright. The look in his eyes was nothing Rick had ever seen in a human. He looked like a wild animal, cornered and injured, desperately trying to get away.
Rick dropped to his knees. He took Daryl's face in both hands, cupping his chin with the left and tracing circles on the sensitive skin of his throat with his thumb.
"It's over, Daryl. He can't hurt you now. He'll never hurt you again, I will make sure of that. You have my word." Slowly Daryl's eyes came back from that wild place and focused on Rick's. He took a deep, shaking breath and then released it with a sob.
"Rick…"
There was no more strength in that voice now than on the day Daryl had come out of the coma in the hospital. He slumped, letting himself fall against Rick's chest and Rick caught him and held him fast.
Close by Rick could now see Lam Kendal putting handcuffs on Merle. He was reading Merle his rights but was looking at Rick sideways the entire time. The look on his face was strange. Rick looked around. Shane, his hands bloody from being busy with the injured Philip, was also looking at him oddly.
Rick couldn't have cared less. He let his colleagues deal with the fallout of this fucked-up situation and remained on the floor, holding the most precious thing in his life close, listening to Daryl's breathing and heartbeat returning to normal, and focusing on nothing but their own survival.
The EMTs had loaded the man Rick had shot into the ambulance, but Rick had insisted that one of them remain behind and check Daryl over. He'd managed to get Daryl off the floor and had brushed away Leon when he'd tried to prevent Rick from taking Daryl into their bedroom.
"He needs to lie down, he's still recovering from surgery, and I want him checked over in peace. You do what you have to do out here, but let me go."
Daryl had hidden his face against Rick's chest when he'd noticed the stares of the other officers. He was shaking against Rick now, and Rick just wanted to have done with this so Daryl could get over the shock of it all. Rick caught Shane staring again, but when he returned the man's gaze, almost willing him to say something, Shane had looked away. Rick's focus returned to getting Daryl into the bedroom.
The EMT was a friendly young woman, who was the only one not looking at them with a mix of disgust and fascination. She smiled at Rick and then focused on Daryl, who was sitting on the end of the bed now.
After examining and cleaning up the cut on Daryl's lip and the nick on his neck she straightened up.
"This is nothing serious, it should heal without problem. Daryl, I need you to take your shirt off now, so I can look at your side."
Rick, who had hung back, stepped forward now. He could already see the automatic response forming on Daryl's lips, but he interrupted. He crouched down, like he'd done once before at the hospital, and said quietly. "Whatever you are hiding, I don't care what it is, or what happened. You are not to blame for whatever it was. I just want to be sure you're ok."
The fight, such as remained, went out of Daryl and he nodded. He let Rick help him slip the T-Shirt over his head, winching when it brushed his left side.
As he stepped back, holding the shirt Rick couldn't help but glance at Daryl's back. It was pretty much what he'd expected. A warren of old, twisted scars covered much of the skin, all the way from the shoulders to his waistband. A familiar surge of hatred coursed through Rick. Here was another Ed, another Merle, who had terrorized his man. This was the accumulation of years of abuse, and Rick hoped fervently that Dixon sr. was long dead and gone. Rick would not be held responsible for what he did if the man was still alive.
He was brought back to the moment by the EMT. "How many weeks post op is this?" She was pointing at the incision.
"About five weeks."
She nodded. "Can you lie down, Daryl, so I can check you over?"
Rick dropped the shirt onto a chair and helped Daryl to his feet. As he walked him around to the side of the bed and helped him stretch out he caught the woman looking at Daryl's back. Her expression was one of such sorrow Rick's heart went out to her. She caught his gaze and gave him a sad little smile, but her voice did not betray her. "Good. Let's do this quickly so you can get some rest, both of you."
She sat down next to Daryl and carefully checked his abdomen, and then his side. When she put a hand on top of the fresh bruise on his lower ribs Daryl flinched away. The EMT nodded, and pulled off her gloves.
"At least one, maybe two ribs are cracked. What happened?"
"He kicked me. Merle, my brother." Daryl spat out the last word like it was an insult.
The woman's voice remained impassive. "This will hurt quite a bit for a week or so. Are you still good for pain meds?" The last was addressed to Rick, who nodded. "I can always get a new prescription from the doc who operated on him."
"Good. Luckily everything else seems to be ok. He could have done much worse damage." She rummaged in her kit by her feet. "One more thing. I'll give you a light sedative now, Daryl. You are in shock, and in your condition that is nothing to be cavalier about. You need to rest."
Daryl nodded, looking defeated. He let her inject him into the vein on his arm, then curled up on his right. Rick stepped over as the EMT got up from the bed and pulled the covers over Daryl. He leaned down and pushed some strands of hair from his forehead, before bringing their heads together very close.
"Sleep now. I'll go and deal with the mess."
"Mhm…" Daryl was already almost out. Rick breathed a small kiss on his forehead and let himself and the EMT out of the bedroom.
The activity in his apartment never seemed to let up throughout the day. Forensics came and went, retrieved the shell casing from the bullet he'd fired at that man Philip, and the bullet from the wall. They also took Rick's weapon and swabbed his hands for powder residue. Rick had never known how tedious this sort of thing could be. He'd fired the gun, there were enough witnesses for that. What did they need the swabs for? But he let them do whatever they wanted. At least forensics also cleaned the blood off his floor.
Rick gave a statement to an officer he didn't know. Leon, who'd stayed behind, told him that the officer had been brought in to prevent any conflict of interest, and Rick could see the point. Had they decided to let Shane, who was the most senior sheriff's deputy after Rick, take his statement Rick was certain that someone would have come away from it with a cracked skull.
Shane had been gone by the time Rick had come out of the bedroom with the EMT, and Rick wasn't sorry for that. He was sure that Shane would write up his own report with every little detail he had witnessed between Rick and Daryl that day, and Rick was sure that this statement would feature heavily in the upcoming custody battle. He couldn't lie to himself, it bothered him a lot.
Rick put his foot down when the officer who had taken his statement demanded to talk to Daryl. "He is heavily drugged, and asleep. You can come back tomorrow."
Luckily, one look at Rick's face convinced the man that he wouldn't budge, and dropped it.
Finally, the light already waning outside, the last of them left.
Rick closed the door, which had been provisionally repaired, behind them and put the chain on to make sure it stayed shut.
He went over to the sofa and sat down. For a moment he stayed immobile, then he dropped his head into his hands with a deep sigh, resting his elbows on his knees. He remained like this for a long time, and when he looked up night had fallen properly. He knew he should eat something, he hadn't had anything since breakfast but he had no appetite.
Instead he got up and walked through to the bedroom. Opening the door quietly he slipped inside and toed off his shoes. He took off his gun belt, unbuttoned his shirt and pants and stripped to T-Shirt and boxer shorts. He stepped around the bed to the far side and slipped under the covers next to Daryl, who shifted around slightly but then lay still again.
Rick didn't think he'd be able to sleep, but he hardly finished that thought when exhaustion took its toll and he dropped off into a deep and dreamless state.