For the most part Rick is very good at reading people. He instantly knows who he can rely on, who's a liability or who's a threat.
So Daryl isn't surprised it took Rick a while to trust him.
It took about as long as it took Daryl to figure out that he wasn't going to leave, that he belonged with the group for better or worse, what ever the hell that meant. Once Daryl had made that call and made peace with his new crew Rick loosened the reins on him, deliberately turning his unprotected back to Daryl in a show of trust and friendship, even asking for his advice.
Daryl might not be an angel, but he was loyal, had always been. Daryl knew when to shut his mouth and follow orders, but he also knew when to speak up or carry the burden of being the executioner and Rick had seen that, seen the quality in that.
That being said there are some things Rick just don't see. Daryl considers them blind spots and while some of them are clearly lack of experience others are intentional disregard.
Like Shane, who had been a risk to the safety of the group at best, at worst a direct threat. Daryl knew the instant Shane hadn't volunteered to follow Rick back to get Merle. He'd been willing to let Rick alone with Daryl, maybe hoping that Daryl would be pissed enough to finish Rick off so Shane could go back to banging Rick's wife, but Rick hadn't wanted to see what was happening. It isn't until he takes Shane's place by Rick's side that Daryl realizes that this particular blind spot transfers directly onto what ever person Rick considers his wingman.
Daryl assumes it's probably something that's been drilled into Rick as a cop, to trust the man next to you, but Daryl had never expected to have a man like Rick trust him blindly.
Unlike Carl, Daryl has effectively been cured of all dumb illusion of heroes or the greatness in man or any damn thing like that. Humans are flawed and some are broken and Daryl knows first hand that some are shattered beyond repair or redemption. That being said Rick is as close to a good man as Daryl has ever seen, even with all his starry-eyed moral and small town do-good attitude that Daryl wanted nothing better than to beat out of him first day they met.
Rick didn't make promises or try to sway the rest of them into following him. He told them how it was going to be and to the rest of the group's plain surprise Daryl found himself agreeing to Rick's terms without hesitation, even when the rest of them were still weighing Rick's actions and words into piles of pros and cons.
The two of them quickly developed a range of signals to help them communicate during hunts and most times even something as simple as a shared look was enough to bring the other person up to speed on a plan or dissuade an idea. Sometime during that first winter their battle-forged bond was replaced by an actual friendship and the group settled around them.
Rick was by nature and nurture a tactile man, but he understood that he was the leader of a skittish group of people who didn't trust him entirely and as a result the way he handled everyone in the group, from a pad on the back to a hand helping someone up from the floor, was careful and deliberate.
It was different with Daryl. Despite the fact that Daryl had accepted Rick as a leader much faster than the rest of them Rick had been less inclined to touch Daryl at first. He couldn't tell if the leader was still scared that Daryl would try to bite his hand or if it was because the wound from Shane was still too deep, but when Rick finally crossed the chasm it was easy and spontaneous, Rick padding his shoulder as a good job for killing a walker. Maybe Daryl should have been ready for it, but he'd damn near stopped in his tracks.
After that he forced himself not to recoil from the hand that came up to cup the back of his head like the most natural thing in the world, Rick's smile wide and giddy, because Daryl's arrow took down a deer after a week of the group starving. He never commented on Rick's teasing finger that poked Daryl's side when Carol, twinkle in her eye, noted how Daryl had lost all his `baby-fat´. And truth be told, if anyone but Rick had leaned in and blown softly into his ear because he'd dosed off during a tactical meeting he might very well have punched them.
But to Rick physical contact between two alpha males is a sign of trust, something that had been made clear by the way he withdrew from Shane towards the end, so Daryl fought to push past his own damage and returned the touches as best as he could.
It started as a gentle squeeze of Rick's shoulder when they had set up camp for the night and a tap on the side of Rick's thigh to get his attention during a hunt. Just a reassuring pressure of hands that much later turned into a tap of something soft and intimate when Daryl headed out on a run and Rick stayed home.
It's in Rick's nature to accept it as a strengthening of their bond and Daryl allows himself to pour more into it than should rightfully be there and it's such a close mimic of Rick's own touches that the leader never realizes that they're so much more.
The only line Daryl never breaks, even if Rick doesn't show the same restrains, is the personal space barrier.
Not until he does.
Not until one night he commands Rick outside in the snow and darkness and puts his arms around the leader until the other man breaks against Daryl's sharp edges and surrenders in a way that Daryl is pretty sure he never asked for. Not that he minds in the slightest.
Rick had damn near squeezed the life out of Daryl, but he didn't push Rick away, would never. Because Daryl might not believe in heroes, but he doesn't mind supporting one.
Which is why he's once again standing at Rick's side as the leaders of the Meybeth Community comes out to meet them
"Your man said you'd been on the road for a while." A short Texan woman says, nodding towards Glenn who's at Rick's other side. Glenn had introduced her as Joan and while she seems like a sweet old woman Daryl knows you don't get to speak for a town by being sweet. "But ya don't look like people who's been on the run."
"We've been travelling, not running." Rick says with a court nod, hands at the hips like the cop he is, because apparently old habits die harder than humanity. Michonne, Sasha and Beth are making up the rest of the delegation, carefully selected to be able to back Rick if needed while looking sufficiently endearing.
"Most people lay low in the winter if they can help it." The man next to Joan says. He had introduced himself as Richard, giving out firm handshakes and an extra glance at Michonne's sword.
"Well, we're a strong group." Rick deflects. The Sargent had demanded that they wouldn't mention Eugene and their mission, had made it as a condition for letting them go. "We only stopped because Glenn's wife had a baby and we've had a couple of people who weren't fit for travel."
That was putting it mildly. Bob had barely agreed to let Daryl and Rick out of the house for this meeting and only after re-binding their ribs so tightly Daryl had difficulties breathing. Not that Daryl had given him or Rick much choice. He'd been going stir crazy in the house, snapping at Carl and Carol and when not even Judith could trigger a smile he had threatened to go hunt. Rick had suggested this instead, maybe because he knew Daryl still had stabbing pains when he tried loading his crossbow.
"Sounds like you've had some ups and downs then," Joan says with a cautious smile. "We just had a baby two months ago, a young girl who was part of a group that joined us. Such a blessing in these times."
"You seem to be doing all right for yourself," The last of the Meybeth leaders says, a young man named Jeree with dark skin and a scar across one side of his face. "I'm guessing you're not looking to join us here?"
"And you'd be right." Rick says, looking to Daryl while he considers his next words. "We're not looking for shelter. As soon as the weather allows it we're moving on."
"So what are you looking for?" Richard asks, shifting nervously and Daryl recognizes the face of a man who's praying that the answer isn't going to be Trouble.
"We've had problems before." Sasha says calmly, meeting each of the Meybeth leader's eyes in turn. "We've never sought out a fight, but we've learned that people can be very protective of their area. We just wanted to make sure you didn't feel threatened."
"Look, we're not going to chase you out of town guns blazing. You know as well as us that we don't have the manpower or the weaponry for that. We rely on our security systems and the natural cover of this area to stay safe. If you're not looking to take our town then we have no quarrel with you folks."
"We appreciate that, ma'm." Rick says, hand halfway up to tip a hat that isn't there, before remembering he isn't a small town sheriff deputy settling a dispute. "We won't be in your way."
"I can't say strangers doesn't make us nervous." Richard says. "There's been some odd sightings lately. Our Scavengers reporting about undeads spiked to the ground by crosses, messages written in blood in the snow."
Daryl feels the rest of his group react to the information, silently cursing at them and their lousy acting skills, but Glenn smooths it over by saying, "We've seen that too. People in our group wanted to move on, but then Maggie's water broke." He lies without a beat and Sasha backs it up with a nod.
"Yes, it's disturbing stuff." Joan agrees, looking to Richard. "A week ago our scavengers found a Priest who had been held captive in the woods."
This time Daryl is the one to react, hand coming up to his crossbow before he can stop himself, but Rick reaches backwards for him, hand landing on Daryl's stomach, fingers digging in to ground him.
"This a black priest?" Daryl asks, well aware that all pretences of tact just hit the floor screaming.
Joan looks from Daryl to Sasha and Michonne, probably weighing Daryl's redneck dialect against his companions, apparently deciding that Daryl's choice of words came from his upbringing rather than an actual bigoted mindset.
"Dark-skinned, yes." She corrects stubbornly. "And traumatized."
"I'm not gonna tell you how to run your camp," Rick warns, "But this man is bad news. He twists the mind of good people."
"You have to kill him!" Beth interrupts suddenly and Daryl can feel his own anger ebbing out when he sees the panic in her face. "He's a monster and you have to kill him now!"
"Calm down, Beth" Sasha says while she reaches for the blond girl, but Beth pushes past her and gets in Joan's face, standing just a few inches taller than the short woman. "He's a monster," She repeats, voice steal and eyes flaming. "And if you don't kill him he will make you all wish you were dead!"
It's not the first time Beth talks like this, not the first time Daryl is forced to face the hell she had gone through because Daryl failed to keep her safe, but this time he isn't ready for it and he has to look away from her pained face.
The Meybeth leaders are backing away, anger, confusion and surprise represented on each their faces. It's Richard that speaks up. "Look., I don't know what your history is with this priest, but he's been through a terrible ordeal. What ever he's done I can promise you, he's more than paid for it."
"The hell he has." Daryl growls, ready to force his way into the town, but Rick is holding him back with a hand on his chest and pleading, blue eyes. Daryl forces himself to calm down, instead pacing behind the rest of them to clear his head, to avoid looking at Beth, who's slowly starting to panic. Sasha is the one who finally pulls Beth close and whispers into her hair until Beth goes limp in her arms
"Whatever this man has told you," Rick is telling the Meybeth leaders, "However convincing he sounds, I can promise you he is manipulating you."
"And I can promise you, Mister Grimes, I am not that easily manipulated." Joan says, meeting Rick's eyes, meeting stubbornness with stubbornness. "I was against the death penalty before the Turn and my view hasn't been changed by half of the world's population dying."
"I wanna go at 'im," Daryl says, pushing past Rick into the darkness of the kitchen. "Sumbitch keeps slippin' through my fingers, ah ain't makin' the same mistake again."
"Slow down." Rick warns, following Daryl out of the living room, away from the rest of their group who went silent as soon as Daryl and Rick started arguing again.
"He took Beth right outa ma hands," Daryl thunders back at Rick, the redneck coming into his speech at full force. "It was ma job ta protect 'er an' ah failed 'er:"
"Daryl!" The amount of force Rick's willing to use to pull Daryl back and slam him against a wall catches the hunter by surprise, maybe because he wasn't expecting Rick to get physical at all, but once his back is against the wall he doesn't fight to get loose. Rick's eyes are a snow storm, but Daryl returns his stare, hands in white-knuckled fists at his side.
"Daryl, you can't." Rick says, whisper-soft and maddening close. "He's under the protection of good people. We can't afford to get on their bad side."
"Ah know. 'S why ah'll go alone."
"And if anyone gets in your way?" Rick demands. "You told me once "this isn't us.". Now I'm telling you, Daryl. These are good people. You're a good man."
"You're a good man". Daryl says defensively, making the compliment into an accusation. "You've done worse. So 'ave I. You know as well as me that he'll turn that whole town on us. The way he looked at you..." Daryl cuts the sentence short, suddenly aware that everyone in the next room can hear every word they're saying. Lowering his voice he adds, "You'd do the same ta protect the people you love."
"Which is exactly why I can't let you do what you're asking to do. You're too important to me." Rick says with out missing a beat, taking Daryl completely off guard. The look on Rick's face reads like a challenge and for a second Daryl is tempted to rise to it. He'd accepted at some point after his and Merle's return to the prison that he was willing to surrender to Rick, but not like this, not in a game of chicken.
"If ya tell me ta stay I'll stay." He says instead, seeing the weight of his words on their leader. Sharp blue eyes searches Daryl's face and Daryl isn't sure what Rick's looking for, not sure if he finds it either.
"You're not done healing." Is Rick's non-reply that ends the argument. When he walks away from Daryl the hunter slides to the floor, hiding his face in the safety of his arms and knees.
Ever since Rick and Daryl returned with the news that the Reverend had followed them Beth's occasional nightmares had become a nightly affair. During the days she tends to zone out, her fingers absently finding Judith's stuffed toy, the one she keeps in her back pocket, but other times she squeezes the green plush frog so hard Daryl's sure she uses it to ground herself, to remind herself she's back with them and safe. It doesn't help keep the nightmares away, though, and every night they're all roused by Beth screaming in full blown panic, leaving Tara to calm her and Maggie and Glenn to calm Seamus and Judith when they start crying.
None of them have gotten a full night's sleep in a week, no one except Rosita at least. Daryl has seen her stay up two nights in a row with out as much as a yawn, but as soon as her head is vertical she's gone and not even Eugene's snoring can wake her. So when Daryl goes to relieve Glenn from his watch, he's not surprised to find Rosita on watch instead, quilt spread out on the sloping roof of the adjacent garage.
He sits down next to her, laying his unfinished arrows on the quilt between them and taking out his knife.
"Getting ready for a war?" She asks, side-eying his arsenal-in-the-making.
"Somethin' like that." Daryl says, but it's not entirely true. Rick's made the call to stay away from Meybeth and Daryl's done arguing. Hell, he knows Rick's made the right call, so it isn't even about doing as he's told. But Daryl's realistic, knows the Reverend is going to follow them to the ends of the earth or until Rick is dead and Daryl's going to be ready for him.
"I wanna kill him too, you know." Rosita says. "Probably more than you do, but that's not the mission."
"I don't give half a shit about the mission. Just goes where Rick leads, that's it. Ah sure as hell isn't going ta walk over the corpses of my friends te get it done."
"Unlike Abraham, you mean?" She asks, looking up at him. "He was ready to leave me behind, wasn't he? When the Reverend took me."
"We all were." Daryl admits shrugging, because Rosita had been no one to Daryl at that point and he's not going to feel bad about wanting to leave her behind. There's plenty of other things to feel bad about. "Tara was the only one who spoke against."
"That girl's got a mouth on her."
"Managed to sway Rick. Not many people can." He draws the blade of his knife gently over the side of the arrow, correcting the last bit of unevenness before he begins fitting the fletchings to one end.
"You do it all the time. Just a look from you and he bows." She argues, dragging a snort out of Daryl.
"Man, that's different. Rick trusts me. Trusts me ta tell him if he's wrong, too. You can't have a man's back if you're too busy lickin' his ass."
"You think I lick Abe's ass?" Rosita asks, frown deep and the corners of her pretty mouth dragging down in a sneer.
Daryl lets her draw her own conclusions on that, instead saying, "I know ya love 'im. I get that. Everyone in this group's ready to tear themselves apart ta save the ones they love."
She must read something in Daryl's words, because her face goes suddenly soft. "He loves you too, you know." She says, taking Daryl by surprise. "Rick, I mean."
"'Cause he does. We're family." He dodges.
"That's not what I meant."
"Ah know what ya meant." Daryl mutters, eyes flint against Rosita's brown doe-eyes. "Was givin' ya a chance ta realize it ain't none of yer business, but then ya had ta be dumb about it."
She has the decency to hide her damn smirk as she gets to her feet and dismisses herself with a light touch of her hand against his shoulder and a, "Come get me if you feel tired."
It takes less than ten minutes for Michonne to join him and he's not sure if she's talked to Rosita or if she'd known where to look for him, but she doesn't seem the least bit surprised to find him out here. He spreads one side of the quilt out and she sits down next to him, shoulder pressing against his.
"You're moping." She informs him, brown eyes giving apologies, probably for having the nerve to call him on his mood. "It's all over your face."
"Ma face always looks like this." Daryl says and Michonne just shrugs.
"Didn't say it was a new development." she says smiling. "What's wrong?"
"S'nothin'" Daryl says, but Michonne isn't buying it, never have.
"Look, Daryl. The last time there was a man who wanted us dead I gave up on finding him and it cost us our home. But chasing after him almost cost me something much more important."
"That's really unhelpful."
"What do you want, Daryl?"
Rick, Daryl's unhelpful mind answers. He wants Rick, wants his time and his attention. Wants a whole bunch of other things that he can't even put words on. He's just never stopped to think about what that means, knows he wouldn't be able to stop if he started. He'd go crazy thinking about it. Ways that it could go wrong. Ways it could go right, and shit, that is probably even more terrifying.
Truth is, even if Daryl got what he wanted he wouldn't know what to do with it.
"I want people ta stop bugging me with questions I don't know the damn answer to." he says, surprising himself with the honestly. He's even more surprised when Michonne laughs at him.
"What's so funny?" He demands.
"Just that Rick said the same thing, only I think his exact words were, "You're not my damn mother!"
"You talk to him?"
"Yes. At least he's smart enough to mope around inside where it's warm."
"I had stuff." Daryl says, not actually wanting to explain why he's sitting out in the cold like an evicted house cat.
"I know." She answers and when the silence falls between them it's calm and comforting.
His ribs still hurt, probably will for another full week, but Daryl can't lie still on a couch. Instead he sneaks away to work on his own project, stubbornly avoiding people who's company he actually craves.
Daryl works the pelts soft with his hands, stretching and rubbing the underside until he's satisfied. With his knife he cuts each pelt into strips and works the tip of the knife through to make little holes along the sides. Carol gives him the string with out asking questions and he stitches the strips of pelt together in patterns of white, gray and brown. He takes his sweet time, not rushing a single part of it, instead enjoying the work, the distraction and the feel of silky fur against his palms.
The result is pretty, his careful handiwork making the fur-side blend easily between the different pieces. He ends with two blankets, one a patchwork of darker colors with a border of white and the second one mainly white and light gray with ermine tails decorating each corner, as white and black-tipped tassels.
Maggie is seated in one of the couches in the living room, eyes bright, cheeks rosy and the baby fitting snugly into the cradle of her arms like he grew there instead of inside her body. She's always been good with Judith, even if she only ever held her when Beth was mixing formula or Carol had to get the water just right for Lil'Asskicker's bath, but she looks different with her own baby, content in a way that makes Daryl's chest clench. Glenn is napping in the armchair, has probably been up during the night to pace the room with both babies in the aftermath of Beth's nightmares.
There are several eyes on him the moment he enters the living room, people who have wondered where he's been all day, but Rick's eyes are the only one he seeks out before he perches on the armrest of the couch next to Maggie, presenting her with the darkest of the two blankets.
"I made this." He says, trying to fight the nervousness he feels at actually handing the blanket over. "Fer the baby."
Maggie looks surprised more than anything, but it slowly turns into a genuine and amazed smile.
"This is beautiful, Daryl." She says, not taking the rabbit blanket from him, but instead running a hand over it while he still holds it out to her. Seamus stirs in her arms and Glenn stirs in his chair. "This must have taken weeks to gather."
"Months actually." Daryl says, glad that she didn't focus on the fact that he's been hiding away all day to make it. "Started as soon as you told everyone 'bout the baby. The brown furs are from Georgia. Figured he should have something from home, even if he's too young to care 'bout stuff like that."
She doesn't answer, her big, gray eyes locked on his face until he has to look away and they both end up looking down at the blanket in Daryl's hands. When she takes it from him her hand grasps his, wide smile finally managing to draw an uncertain smile out of him in return. "Thank you Daryl. You don't know how much this means."
He nods with a smile and slides off the armrest to his feet, walking over to sit next to Rick on the other couch. The leader makes room for him, but once he's settled Rick leans back in until they are pressed together closer than they need to be. It's comfortable and comforting and Rick's hand finds his knee, gives it a gentle squeeze.
"Glad to see you can keep busy." He says softly. "I've been going crazy on this couch with nothing to take my mind off the pain."
Daryl's not sure if he reads more into the words than he should, so he decides not to comment on them, instead saying, "Ah also made one fer Judy."
The look Rick gives him then is so soft and affectionate, that Daryl knows he isn't imagining this, isn't imagining the way Rick's fingers dig in a little deeper around his knee before letting go and clenching into a fist, as if Rick is fighting to keep himself from touching Daryl.
Daryl can't keep the smirk from his face, doesn't care if Rick sees it.
Carl and Michonne takes the night watch together that night and Daryl isn't sure if it's on Rick's orders or Michonne's initiative, but either way Daryl has a hard time finding the confidence to walk into their room that evening.
Rick is standing with his back to the door, Judy in his arms, bouncing her gently as his body sways lightly. If Daryl was ever going to apply the term graceful to a man, it would be Rick and Daryl sometimes catches himself staring when Rick moves, slim shoulders and narrow hips making him seem more fragile than he is.
Suddenly Daryl is grateful for the toddler's presence. As long as she's in the room, safely held against Rick's shoulder Daryl can keep his head clean, but it's not until Rick turns and looks at him that Daryl realizes that Rick is holding the toddler for that same reason.
"Ah wanted to make something pretty for 'er." Daryl says and Rick's eyes follow him as he walks to his backpack and takes out the white rabbit blanket. "Little girls like princess things, but she's gonna grow up ta be a warrior princess. I don't know, this seemed appropriate"
Rick takes his eyes from Daryl's face and looks at the blanket. He takes in the quality of the work and the smile that finds his face is all the praise Daryl needs.
"This is beautiful work. I didn't know you could sow." The smile is teasing and his eyes goes momentarily to the tears in Daryl's pants.
Daryl snorts. "Not too different from stitchin' people up." He counters and the smile on Rick's face widens.
Daryl spreads the blanket out on the bed and Rick lowers Judith down, putting her on her back on the soft fur with out waking her. They stand side by side, watching her sleep for a stretch of time and Daryl doesn't bother to school the affection off his face. It's not until he becomes aware that Rick is watching him that Daryl realizes that he might have screwed up a bit, because there is no longer a sleeping toddler in Rick's arms and nothing to anchor Daryl's wandering mind.
"Michonne took the watch." Rick says, clearing that up. "She though we needed to talk."
"She thinks a lot of things." Daryl says, not sure why he gets defensive when he's the one who walked into the room to begin with., but Rick isn't discouraged. Instead he moves closer into Daryl's personal space and for some reason the invasion doesn't seem so threatening.
"Maybe she's right." Rick says, looking down at Judith and Daryl finds his eyes transfixed by the tendons and muscle that runs from Rick's jaw to his shoulder, suddenly clear by the angle of his head. "I'm pretty good at reading people, but for some reason I'm having trouble reading you."
"Maybe 'cause I'm a lot simpler than you give me credit for." Daryl mutters, earning a soft huff of amusement from Rick who turns his head again, eyes finding Daryl's in the dim light.
"Look, Daryl. I don't know what you're thinking." Rick presses and then waits for an answer, but Daryl isn't ready to give one so Rick continues. "You always have my back. Even when you disagree. I trust you with the life of this group, with the life of my children. You're my best friend and I don't know what that means to you, but you gotta trust that it means everything to me. If you doubt that..."
"Ain't about that." Daryl says as a mix of endorphins and adrenalin floods his body. "An' I know what yer thinking, but I ain't scared. Guess I just aren't sure what I want."
"Do you want this?" Rick asks, hand coming up to cup Daryl's jaw and Daryl has to close his eyes when a surge of fire burns through his blood and meets the spike of ice that shoots up his spine.
All he can do is nod and swallow as Rick runs the fingertips of his other hand up through the strains of hair on the outside of Daryl's arm, a simple touch that has Daryl trembling against his will. He didn't realize a body could be so starved for physical attention, but he feels every point of connection and he almost bolts backwards, but then Rick has closed the gap between their mouths and Daryl is drowning.
His lips are moving on instinct, responding to Ricks pressure with a burning need that turns into aggression when Rick's hands both falls to grab at Daryl's hipbones. Daryl follows Rick's lead, like he always does and Rick seems happy to take Daryl apart.
"How long have you been holding that back" Rick asks when Daryl allows him the use of his mouth.
"Ya don't wanna know." Daryl growls as he remembers the first time he realized he was in love with Rick, that his world was build on Rick's shoulders. "Never was gonna act on it."
"No, I figured as much." Rick says, smile almost apologetic. "Like I said, you're not easy for me to read, but I finally realized you were never gonna make the first move."
"How 'bout ah make the second?" Daryl offers, pushing Rick back against the wall, because he's finally allowed to. Rick's fingers are in his hair as soon as their mouth clashes together, pulling Daryl in with a force. Daryl is the first to risk slipping his hands under Rick's shirt, fingers exploring skin in a way that wasn't the least bit clinical or hesitant, but the the soft babbling sounds of Judith brings them back. Daryl smiles and ducks his head into the warm skin of Rick's neck, exhaling forcefully as the reality of what is going on hits him. Rick's hands stay in Daryl's hair and are joined by his lips.
"Guess that makes us equal." Rick mumbles into Daryl's hair.
Daryl kisses the curve of Rick's neck. "Makes us somethin'." He says and as vague as it is Daryl feels it's pretty damn accurate.
He's not sure when he falls asleep, when Rick falls asleep, but the last thing he remembers is how well Rick's fingers fit intertwined with his own.
"This is worth it." Daryl mutters, because he has to believe it, has to believe that if they can build a world together then it won't matter so much if the rest of the world outside is broken.
"I'm gonna have to take that on faith." Rick says with a soft smile and his eyes closed, and for the first time in a long time there are no shadows on his face.