So in this age between updates I accidentally wrote a monster of a chapter, so I've split it into two - which means that the next one will be up very soon.

Pretty please overlook any medical mistakes or things that don't make sense - one day when I have a little more time I will research the medical stuff better and update for accuracy, but right now if you could just accept my apology that I'm not a doctor, just someone who likes writing but doesn't know much about much and is very short on time (and maybe a bit lazy, too).

Chapter 24 - We wait

The drive to the hospital was a blur. One moment Daryl was in Fox's lot, then the next thing he knew, he was bracing himself outside the automatic doors of the emergency department, working up the courage to go inside.

The stark interior made him feel instantly on edge: whitewashed floors, fluorescent lights, the smell of bleached sickness. Brought to mind one of the few times he'd been in a hospital before - in his early teens when his dad had taken to him with the tire iron and broken his arm and four of his ribs. For a moment, his breath caught and his vision swam, then in the next, he was forced back to the present as Andrea suddenly barreled into him, capturing him in a fierce embrace. Daryl's first instinct was to recoil; to wall up against her tears and drenching emotion because it was too much and he didn't want it, but instead he woodenly looped an arm around her for a couple of seconds – all he could manage – before firmly pressing her away.

Andrea swiped a sleeve across her face before looking up at Daryl with watery, desperate eyes.

"I spoke to him after work! He was just having a beer and he was fine and then later I got that call and he could barely fucking talk and he was so… and I don't know what the fuck… or who would even…"

Unable to make sense of Andrea's hysterical babbling, Daryl looked up and over her shoulder to where Tahlia was now standing and fixed his attention on her. She always made sense to him.

"Hey." Tahlia greeted him with a small smile, but she didn't move closer; didn't make any move to touch him, and Daryl briefly wondered how she knew to give him a little space. Because that's what he needed until he'd processed whatever the hell was going on and what the fuck had happened to Merle.

"We don't know much right now." Tahlia told him gently. "We were just at home when Andrea got a call from Merle. He was trying to talk but couldn't say much, then a paramedic that was with him in the ambulance came on the line. Said he had multiple stab wounds, he'd lost a lot of blood. We came straight here but they'd already taken him into surgery, so we haven't seen him yet. We've been told we just need to wait."

Then Daryl asked the only question that he really needed an answer to. "He gonna die?"

That drew a fresh set of sobs from Andrea, but Daryl's gaze didn't waver from Tahlia, who was considering her answer carefully.

"He's in good hands. I trust they'll do the best they can for him."

Daryl chewed his lip in contemplation. That sounded like a 'maybe', and the notion of life with a dark empty space instead of his big brother was too dizzying to even begin to imagine and he couldn't let himself fall into that abyss, not now, not here, so he focused on Tahlia and her cool, steady composure, and knew that if he held onto her, she would keep him grounded.

"'Kay." he nodded. "We wait."

"Come on." Tahlia beckoned to him. "We've been sitting over here."

As Daryl followed after her through the rows of worn plastic chairs and the clusters of other weary waiters to the quietest corner of the room, Andrea grabbed hold of his arm.

"Daryl. Do you have any idea what this is all about? Who would have done this to him?"

"Naw." Daryl replied truthfully. "No idea. But it's Merle."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Andrea demanded, hands on hips, as Tahlia took a seat and Daryl dropped down beside her.

Glancing up at Andrea, Daryl gave a moody shrug and folded his arms. "Y'know. He pisses people off all the time."

Andrea looked personally insulted and glared at him. "That's not a reason to get fucking stabbed! This is so messed up. I had just spoken to him an hour earlier and then… God. Should we call people to let them know what's happened? Maybe someone knows something. We should call people."

"Um, I think maybe we should hold off calling anyone until we know the… the outcome of the surgery." Tahlia said delicately, also considering the fact that the last thing Daryl would want right now was a whole bunch of their friends swarming down here and crowding him.

Eyes widening in horror at the implication that this could quite easily go either way, Andrea then shook her head, feeling scattered. "We should've heard something from the doctors by now, though right? Why haven't we heard anything? There must be something they can tell us. I'm going to ask that useless woman at the desk again."

"Andie! She said she'd let us know when…" Trailing off because Andrea was already halfway to the front desk, Tahlia then peeked over at Daryl. "Was that true? You really don't know anything about any of this?"

Daryl raised a hand. "Swear it, Tahly. And…" he sighed. "Didn't mean what I just said. 'Bout him pissin' people off. Merle's been a different guy since Andie. Been really tryin' to stay outta trouble. So, nah, dunno what this is."

With a thoughtful hum, she was silent for a few moments, then gently nudged him. "Are you ok?"

Shoving his thumbnail between his teeth, Daryl shrugged. "Gotta be, right?"

"No. You don't. You can be anything you need, because I'm right here for you and I'm not going anywhere."

He stopped chewing on his nail and shot a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. "And that's why I'm ok."

Just then Andrea arrived back, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. "Nothing! They told me nothing!"

"Honey," said Tahlia, her tone gentle but firm. "He's only been in surgery for an hour. We were told it could be a few. All we can do right now is wait."

Andrea knew Tahlia was right but that didn't make it any easier to bear, so with a scowl she threw herself down into a chair opposite with a peevish huff.

Daryl was good at waiting. Found it real easy to sit all still and quiet and patient. Learned that skill early on in life hiding from his dad, then later perfected it through years of hunting.

Definitely wasn't one of Andrea's strong points, though. That became clear very quickly.

She sighed and fidgeted and tapped her fingers and rummaged in her bag and fussed and got up and down and paced around. Nearly drove Daryl crazy just watching her, and subconsciously he inched closer into Tahlia's calm energy.

On Andrea's umpteenth lap around the waiting room, Tahlia made a sad little noise. "She's really not coping with this, huh? I'm going to go talk to her."

"Wait." Daryl put his hand on her thigh. "Let me."

"Really?" asked Tahlia in surprise.

"Yeah. I gotta look out for her. Y'know, for Merle."

Then, head bowed, hands jammed in pockets, Daryl sloped over to Andrea and nudged his head towards the exit and she nodded and tucked an arm through his, and together they walked slowly out into the night.

When Daryl eventually came back in, he was on his own and took his seat next to Tahlia again, the chill of the evening air still clinging to his clothes.

"She's doin' ok. She's just on the phone to her mama now." He pointed at the open laptop on Tahlia's knees. "You workin'?"

"Oh." She quickly pulled her hands from the keyboard and clasped them together. "I was just making a few notes while you guys were outside. Sorry, I'll put this away now."

"Naw, don't gotta stop." Daryl said softly, bumping her shoulder with his own. "Was just askin'. How's the trial goin'?"

"Grueling. We've got a really strong case, but you never know which way it'll go. We're closing tomorrow morning, so I just need to do a little prep for that."

"Get on with it then." said Daryl lightly as he sank right down in his chair.

"But what about you? What are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna sit here and watch you and that look you get when you're concentratin'."

"What look?!"

Squinting up at her, he circled a finger at her forehead. "Kinda frowny."

"Really?" laughed Tahlia, reflexively raising a hand to her brow.

Daryl gazed at her fondly for a long moment. "Yeah."

Laughing again softly, she turned her attention back to the screen and Daryl linked his hands on his stomach, shifting a little so that his shoulder was resting against hers, his thigh pressing against hers too, and despite the shitty situation, he could wait as long as he had to, just like this.

Hours crawled by, Tahlia kept working and Andrea passed the time by reading out crossword clues from the ancient magazines strewn around the place, and though Daryl really didn't feel like participating, he did it anyway because it seemed to be helping her.

Some time after ten, a weary surgeon appeared and introduced himself as the three of them jumped to their feet expectantly.

"Let me start by assuring you that Merle is out of surgery, he's stable, and we expect him to make a full recovery. As you know, he was admitted with multiple stab wounds and as a result he suffered a collapsed lung and some bowel damage, which we have been able to repair. Also, some kind of blunt force hit or hits has cracked ribs on his left side and in turn caused some trauma to his spleen. We've stopped the bleeding in that area, but we'll be monitoring him closely for the next 24 hours in case recurrent bleeding develops."

With a tremorous breath, Andrea walked straight into the surgeon and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you."

He smiled kindly as she released him. "He's now in the ICU - I can take you through to see him, if you like? He's still asleep though, and we'll likely be keeping him sedated for the night to give his body a chance to rest, but you're welcome to sit with him for a while."

Andrea walked with the surgeon, asking questions about Merle all the way, while Tahlia and Daryl followed close behind.

"He's going to be ok." said Tahlia, squeezing Daryl's arm. "That's good news."

Daryl could only manage a small nod in return, but his relief was palpable, the hours of pent-up tension leaving his body like a flood, draining him.

"Here we are," said the surgeon, opening the door of the ICU. "There are a couple of other patients down the far end, so please be mindful of them, otherwise I'll leave you to have a little time with him."

And there was Merle, shut-eyed and still, resting amongst the crisp whiteness of the hospital linen, a nasal canula secured across his face and tubes running from his arms to rhythmically beeping machines on either side.

With an 'oh' of anguish, Andrea flew to his side and dropped into the chair next to the bed, gingerly laying a hand on his shoulder, as Tahlia moved to the foot of the gurney.

Hanging back, Daryl was rocked by a wave of rippling nausea. It was horrible seeing his larger than life brother all pale and frail and bashed and bandaged on that sterile slab of a bed; hospital-gowned and hooked up to goddamned machines. And the smell, the fucking chemical stench that was near suffocating in the stuffy warmth of the room made his lungs burn and skin crawl and buried emotions from his own hospital visits surfaced and compounded with the very real and recent fear that he might lose his brother and if he stayed here it would flatten him, so he whirled around and left.

Looking up as the door swung shut, Tahlia glanced back at Andrea who was wearing a mirrored look of confused concern.

"Um, I'm just going to…" Tahlia pointed a finger towards the door, and Andrea nodded.

"Yep. I think you should. I'll stay with Merle."

After calling out into the bathroom and scouring the waiting room, Tahlia realized that Daryl wouldn't be inside at all, he'd need air and space and emptiness – and sure enough, she found him sitting alone on a bench around the side of the building bathed in watery light from the lamppost above, his elbows on his knees and his eyes fixed on the unlit cigarette he was turning in his fingers.

Wordlessly she perched next to him, then carefully took the cigarette and lighter from his fingers, lit it, then held it back out to him. It was only when he reached to accept it did she notice that his hand was shaking. Moving closer, right up against him, she took his free hand and kissed it gently before clasping it securely between her own, and together they sat quietly and watched the silvery plumes of smoke twirling and disappearing into the night.

Even if he'd wanted to, Daryl wouldn't have been able to speak in those moments, and he was grateful for her silence, making his own more permissible.

Nothing really needed to be said though, not with words.

They sat until the cigarette was a distant memory, then Tahlia stood and moved in front of him and kissed his forehead before tucking a finger under his chin to coax him to look up at her.

"Come on." she said simply. "I've got you."

And Daryl knew she did – physically, with her hand still twined in his, but so much more than that too. She had hold of him in ways he couldn't explain, couldn't even really understand beyond the fact that he couldn't remember himself before her and couldn't conceptualize himself without her.

So, he let her lead him back into the hospital, back into the room, and it was easier this time, now he knew what to expect. Andrea reached out for him in sympathetic understanding, and he went to her, the realization that they were all in this together settling warmly in his belly.

"The nurse came in just before and said that we should go home and get some rest and come back in the morning." she told them. "They'll be keeping a close eye on him and will call us if anything changes over night."

Tearing his eyes away from his brother, Daryl nodded. "'Kay."

"Alright." said Andrea reluctantly, standing up. "This is the best place for him right now, and I know they'll take good care of him. Let's go then. Daryl, you're coming back to our place."

"Naw, don't need to. I'm fine."

Andrea folded her arms. "You're not going back to your house alone."

"Just said I'm fine."

"It's not just about you, you know. I think we should all stay together."

Registering the sincerity in Andrea's voice and the plea in her eyes, Daryl glanced at Tahlia who nodded in agreement, then he puffed out a breath.

"Alright. I'll come back to yours. You need a lift?"

"No, we're ok." replied Andrea. "Tahlia drove."

"'Kay. See you back there, then."

Back at the apartment, they gathered in the lounge and Tahlia made tea, but it was late and the mood was somber and no one really felt like talking, so it wasn't long before Andrea excused herself to go to bed.

"You going to be alright, sweets?" asked Tahlia as Andrea stood up and stretched.

"Yeah." she assured her. "I'm beat. I need some sleep, then I'll head back to the hospital first thing in the morning."

"I'll come with ya." said Daryl, slurping down the remnants from his mug. "To the hospital. Take the day off."

"Me too." agreed Tahlia, but Andrea shook her head.

"You can't! You're closing tomorrow."

"It's fine, I can get my second to take care of it."

"Tahly, you've been living and breathing this case for how long? You need to see it through. Anyway, there'll be nothing but more sitting around tomorrow, you don't need to be there with us to do that."

Daryl patted Tahlia's knee. "She's right. We'll let ya know how Merle's gettin' on."

Before Tahlia could protest, Andrea held up a hand. "Tahls, really. Go to work and we'll keep in touch. We'll leave you messages and you can just check in when you can."

Tahlia didn't look convinced. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." insisted Andrea, leaning over the back of the sofa to press a kiss to Tahlia's head. "We'll be fine. Now, go get some sleep so you can slay tomorrow." She squeezed Daryl's shoulder on her way past. "Night, guys. Love you."

Yawning, Tahlia stood up. "Sleep sounds like a good idea. Come on."

Daryl thought about offering to sleep on the couch, but he didn't really want to, so he followed her to her room.

"Ah. The new bed."

"Oh yeah, it's amazing. Wait 'til you try it out. You won't ever want to leave. Actually makes it really hard to get up in the morning." She laughed, then made a wide sweeping gesture with her hand. "You know your way around. Make yourself at home." And then she was off to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Daryl loved her bedroom, the coziness, the feel of heart. He gazed around slowly, then wandered over to the desk and scanned the photos tacked on the wall above. Found the one he was looking for – her and him at the pier that day when they went rowing on the lake. Always made him smile.

"Ok, I'm done." announced Tahlia as she came back dressed in her sleep shorts and t-shirt. "There's a spare toothbrush for you by the sink. Need anything else? What about something to sleep in?"

"Like what?" teased Daryl as he moved past her. "Pair of your matchin' PJ's?"

She smacked his arm and called after him. "I was actually thinking you might like a little nightdress."

She could hear his low laugh as he closed the bathroom door, and after the evening they'd had, it was such a welcome sound.

It was tough on him, the shock of what had happened to Merle, seeing his brother in that state, Tahlia knew that. She'd kept a close eye on him all night, seen how his emotions seemed to come in waves, like he was ok and then he wasn't, like everything would suddenly flood in and threaten to drown him and he'd have to get up, move around, smoke, do something, anything, until he had pulled himself out of it again. It was hard seeing him like that, but she hoped that just by being there, always being there, he would finally get used to the idea that it was safe to lean on other people and he didn't have to weather everything on his own.

When Daryl padded back into the room, she was in bed, the only light now the amber glow from the bedside lamp.

Without a thought he stripped down to his boxers, then gazed down at himself, then at her, and paused awkwardly.

"Uh, you sure you're ok with this?"

Smirking, Tahlia arched a brow. "Your underwear?"

Daryl gave her a withering look. "Me bein' here, I mean."

She chuckled. "Of course. Only place you should be right now. Get in."

He did as he was told, and Tahlia bounced a couple of times on the mattress with a smile. "See? No roll-together."

Shame. Thought Daryl. He wouldn't have minded a bit of roll-together tonight.

Leaning over to flick off the light, Tahlia settled herself on her back before asking, "Are you sure you're holding up ok?"

"Yeah." replied Daryl, although there was something about the dark seclusion and silence of nighttime that always amplified the bad feelings and negative thoughts that had been kept muted by the day. He could feel the black cloud rolling in, shadowing, suffocating.

Maybe she heard the tightness in his voice, because then she softly said, "Want me to hold your hand?"

Huffing out a short breath, Daryl rolled onto his side and moved until he was against her and she opened an arm to him, curled it around his shoulders and pulled him close as he tucked his head underneath her chin and found her free hand with his in the darkness, settling on her chest.

It felt intensely vulnerable to be held like this, and that only served to strengthen the shitstorm inside, and Daryl felt his throat closing, his chest tightening, his head swimming. Images of his brother in that bed, small and weak and so un-Merle flashed in his mind, and the more Daryl tried to push them away, the more vivid the images became, and soon other images, memories from long ago that he usually kept tightly sealed away, burst through and crowded in and sliced at him.

He hated when he spiraled like this. He hated the drenching weight; the burning anxiety. Wanted to feel something else, anything else, even just for a moment.

Normally, he'd fight or fuck or get fucked up just to get out of his head.

And right now, there was only one of those options available.

Forcing his focus outward, he became acutely aware of her all around him – the feel of her; the scent of her; the sound of her heart thudding softly in her chest; and then the mess of his feelings for her surged to the surface and piled on top of everything else and there was no room for sensible thought anymore, there were only swarming emotions, and he couldn't even separate them now, couldn't name a single one, only knew that he felt intensity, pressure, and he would fucking implode if he didn't do something.

And this would feel good, so good.

Gently unlinking his fingers from hers, his hand drifted down her side until he found the gap between her shirt and shorts, and he rested there for a moment, her skin warm and smooth, his mind blissfully blanking already as he gave in to sensation, craving more. He drew his fingertips slowly across her stomach and then back again, feeling her reflexively draw in. Then he travelled that path once more, this time sliding his pinky finger beneath the waistband of her shorts, burning a trail from hip to hip. Daryl could feel her body quivering, could feel the shudder of her breath, and carefully he pressed himself closer to her, lifting his chin and slowly dragging his scruff against her neck, feeling her head tip back, granting him access. Inching his hand under her shirt, he began a leisurely exploration upwards over her belly, up to her ribs, his thumb circling gently all the way.

Daryl's intention was unmistakable and Tahlia was trembling now, her heart beating a wild tattoo, her body aflame and aching, a tiny whimper of want escaping her lips. Daryl's hand reached the base of her breast, his palm a brand on her flesh, and he paused there as he slowly drew his mouth up to her jaw, his breath hot against her skin, and then he stilled. A silent request for permission.

For a torturous moment she wavered, because God she wanted it…

"Daryl." Barely a breath in the darkness as her hand found his and gently relocated it to the neutral territory of her clothed hip. Her answer.

"That won't help." Tahlia whispered, the words heavy on her tongue even though she knew them to be the truth. "That won't make you feel better."

She knew why he wanted her in that moment, she knew it was driven by his urge to escape, and she knew that what he really needed - though it wouldn't be what he wanted - was to acknowledge the discomfort, stay present, let it be.

For several hammering heartbeats Daryl held his breath, remained motionless, then in a rush he let it all go, including her, and tried to roll away, but she caught him and held him firm, coaxing him back to her with soft murmurs, and soon, despite his initial resistance, he succumbed and found himself curled against her, his head tucked under her chin once more.

She was right.

And worse, his inclination for unhealthy coping mechanisms and a momentary lapse in judgment had undermined all his prior efforts to do right by her.

"M'sorry." he muttered wretchedly against her skin.

"Shh." she soothed, gently stroking his arm. "It's ok, it's ok. It's been a rough night. I know this is hard for you and I know you're feeling overwhelmed. It won't feel like this forever, I promise. It helps to talk. You want to try talking about any of it?"

He wouldn't even know where to start. "Naw."

"Ok, you don't have to. Well, we're just going to lie here and you're going to feel however you feel, and just know that it's all going to be easier to bear by the morning. And I'm going to hold onto you until then because I need you know that you're not alone, Daryl. You're not."

The tenderness of that choked him and he certainly couldn't utter a word now, so he clung tighter to her and even though he felt like shit, it wouldn't be so bad if morning never came.