There was no room to roll over, they were all piled together so closely, and Daryl marveled at how he fit into this group. There had never been a point in his life where he had people so close to him; they were closer than his blood relative had ever been, treated him a hell of a lot better. They actually treated him with respect and before the world had fallen to shit he was sure that he had never had that from anyone.
Carol shifted slightly, next to him, her arm tightening against his side. He had never been touched by so many people either. Touch was something had had learned to avoid as a child. It usually led to pain and rejection, or humiliation. These people reached out to him constantly, hugging him, slapping his shoulder, grabbing onto his arm or hand with such perfect trust in him.
He wasn't sure what to make of it sometimes; the world seemed more upside down than ever when he found himself doing the opposite of what Merle had always nagged him about. He partnered with a strong black woman, was practically a brother to a man of Korean decent, and even had friends who were gay. Merle would have had a stroke. Daryl snickered, and then quieted down immediately as he saw Tara twitch. He got along with the girl but he didn't need her to wake up and want to start a conversation in the middle of the night.
He heard Abraham start snoring on the other side of the room and had to stifle laughter again. It had been a long day, and he knew he should be tired enough to sleep again, but for some reason everything was striking him as surreal. Carol's arm tightened on him again, as though he were her teddy bear to hug, and that thought was just too much, he giggled. If she woke up now he was never going to hear the end of it, "Daryl Dixon giggles?" He couldn't stop it though.
"Daryl?" Rick's whisper cut through the room, three people down from his spot, and he sobered almost immediately. "Do I need to have a talk with those omen about tickling you while we're all trying to sleep?"