A/N: I'm not happy with this chapter. I tried to fix it a few times but I wasn't getting anywhere, eventually I just gave in and accepted that it sucks. I think the next one is much better, hopefully I will have it finished uploaded soon.
Chapter 5
(Vibe: Ghost by Wildes)
It would be a lie to say that Daryl had acted out of anything but pure frustration with her. It had nothing to do with his current state and everything to do with her annoying him.
He'd left early in the morning, to drag the corpses away from camp. When had returned, he'd found her moving her tent closer to the spot where he slept.
She froze in place when she'd seen his eyes starring at her, hard and unrelenting.
He'd stormed over to her and come close to knocking her off her feet, when he'd shoved her aside.
He snatched up the corner of the tent and pulled it towards the water.
For a moment she wondered if he was going to throw it into the stream, but instead he stopped and left it a few feet away from where he usually slept.
She was still frozen in her spot watching him when he dropped it on the ground and turned to face her. He was huffing and puffing, out of pure annoyance and he was quite obviously trying hold back the anger that he was desperate to release.
He swung his head towards the tent and looked back to her.
She was happy she knew him as well as she did, or the silent request would have been lost on her.
"I won't move it again. I promise." she assured him.
He continued to look her over with his hard gaze for a few more seconds, trying to decide if he believed her. It wasn't until she weakly smiled at him, that he finally growled and dropped his eyes down, before storming off to continue on with his morning tasks.
She hated to think it, but if anyone could see him now they'd be afraid of him. There were very few traces of his skin left. He was so caked in dirt that he looked as though he had just crawled his way out of the ground.
There was dried blood all over him, from the animals he had killed and skinned, or simply ripped into and eaten. His hair was matted and she was sure if she was ever given the chance to tend to it, that she may have no other choice but to simple chop it all off.
She'd thought if she could spend more time with him, that she could find traces of the man that she had known. But the more time she spent with him the more she realized just how different he was.
She could talk, but she couldn't expect him to pay her any attention. At least not in any obvious way.
There was no eye contact or replies and there was no signs of interest.
Not that it mattered. The things she talked about were of little importance to him or anyone. She honestly even bored herself.
She only talked about things that had happened before the world fell apart. She talked about movies she had seen, books she'd read. She talked about missing fast-food. She talked about the towns she lived in and random things she had witnessed. And she stuck to those simple subjects, because it was clear they didn't make Daryl uncomfortable.
What made Daryl uncomfortable, was talking about the farm, the prison or Alexandria. About their lives with their group, their family. Anything that he had once been a part of. If she tried to steer him in those directions, he would leave the camp and not return until the next day.
He hunted for her, he prepared whatever he caught for her and then he stayed with her while she cooked. For the past few days, he had sat with her during lunch and dinner. After they ate, he helped her gather everything up and take it to the stream, so they could rinse everything off. But Daryl never spoke, most of the time he flat out ignored her.
She had managed to coax little more then an occasional grunt from him. But he was unwilling or unable to offer her anything more.
Sometimes she asked him direct question, something that couldn't be answered with a growl, but usually Daryl disregarded her and let the question hang between them.
But it didn't stop her from trying.
"You've been there right? I remember you saying something about Thomaston. Did you live there or just pass through?"
She noticed him glance in her direction, but he continued to eat his meal and ignore her.
She knew the answer to her own question. She knew he and Merle had lived there once, they'd talked about it in length. She could still remember the night he'd told her about it. They were on watch at the prison and he had been listening to her list of the towns she had lived in. Daryl had perked up at the mention of Thomaston. He'd liked it there, he'd been happy there.
And maybe he knew that she remembered that conversation. But she couldn't be sure of that. She couldn't even be sure if he remembered it. She wasn't a hundred percent sure that Daryl remembered living in the town.
Her line of unanswered questions fell silent when the echoing of gunfire sounded off again. They had been hearing it for days, but it was clear that it was far away from them. It was nothing for them to worry about, but she noticed how much it unsettled Daryl. It always had him looking like he was ready to jump out of his skin.
Daryl had twisted himself around towards the sound, as though he would be able to see the danger, even though they both knew it was miles away from them.
His hands were locked in place, still holding the bowl and spoon in the same position as he had been before the interruption.
"It's ok, Daryl. It's nowhere near us." she said softly, noticing Daryl's shoulders loosen slightly, but he held his position, looking into the woods behind him.
She felt guilty every time she heard the guns being fired and random explosions erupting. A part of her knew she should be fighting, that she should be with her group. But she also knew she couldn't ever bring herself to leave Daryl. And taking him with her was not an option. They were at a safe distance from the fighting, but the sounds still scarred him, they still had him ready run and hide. She dreaded to think what it would be like for him if he was any closer.
She'd stayed awake for as long as she could.
She'd sat and watched him sleep and she had savored the the hour of calm that washed over him. It was as though he found somewhere safe to hide, somewhere quiet and peaceful, but eventually that dark thing found him again. It had discovered the the place he had crawled into, hoping to rest, and it sunk it's claws into him and dragged him out.
Slowly his body began twitching, his legs began lightly stretching and he murmured out faint sounds.
Before to long his whole body was thrashing, his legs were kicking and he was crying out in pain.
As much as she knew he needed his sleep, she wished he'd wake up from the torment that he was suffering through. There were times when she covered her ears with her hands and squeezed her eyes shut, just for a moments relief from the pain of watching him suffer through this.
When he woke, it was with a jolt. As though he'd been struck by lightening. He roared out a agonizing sound and jumped to his feet looking around him, expecting to see the same scenery that he had been faced with only seconds ago.
She wished that some relief would wash over him, that he would find some comfort in knowing that what ever he had been dreaming of was nothing more then a memory now. But the residue of what had flared up in his nightmares was still there and far to strong for him to simply shake off.
She had tried to talk to him and tell him that he was ok, that he was safe here with her. But he couldn't hear her over the commotion in his head.
She had fallen asleep watching him pace back and forth with his arms wrapped around himself and she had woken to the sun coming up and the sight of him dragging a walker into the woods.
He needed to sleep. That was one thing she knew with complete certainty. Until he slept for more then two hours it was impossible to tell just how much of his episodes were hallucinations from sleep deprivation.
She had always had a plan for helping him with that, she had just been waiting until she was close enough to follow through with it. And now she was.
She went through the bags that Rick and Michonne had packed her until she found the Walkie. She moved quick and kept the call short, trying to assure he didn't overhear her, when eventually made his way back to camp.
When she finally got through, it had been Carl that answered her call. She gave him a request to relay back to Michonne and Rick. She just hoped they could help her execute her idea. It was clear that Carl was in a hurry and that he was busy. Hearing that in the boys voice only added to her guilt.
By the time Daryl made his way back into the camp she was sitting quietly by the stream filling a pot with water.
Once upon a time Daryl would advert his eyes if he was caught starring at her. Even if he was only doing it absently. Some times he just got caught up in his own head and his eyes would settle on her while he was thinking something through. And she would feel his eyes on her her and she would always look over to find him looking at her intently. That was when he would look away, sometimes he would shake his head at her as some silent form of apology.
But now Daryl had no problem starring at her. When she turned to look at him, he held her gaze tightly in his. It was enough to have her starring back at him and getting lost in her own thoughts.
She smiled at him and noticed the slight soften of his features. "Coffee?"
He didn't nod or grunt. Instead he followed her over to the spot by her tent, where they ate. He took his place across from her and quietly waited on her.
She poured him a cup and mixed in the excessive amount of sugar that she knew he liked, before handing it over to him.
He didn't acknowledged any of her attempts at conversation and he didn't make a single sound when she asked him questions. But she noticed that when she stopped talking he looked up at her, waiting on her to continue.
When they were finished he got to his feet and led her to the stream. He had usually helped her rinse of the dishes after they used them and he obviously was ready to do the same with the mug he'd used.
She opened her mouth to offer to do it for him, but quickly thought better of it and stopped herself.
She knelt down beside him and dipped her mug into the stream when she noticed the movement out of the corner of her eye. Someone was there, watching them.
Quickly her whole body stiffened and she was ready to rise back up. "Daryl there's-"
Before she could finish his hand grabbed a hold of her wrist, silencing her and holding her in place beside him.
"Shhhh"
She looked over at him as he hissed the quiet sound and lightly shook his head.
She could feel his thumb moving lightly back and forth over her wrist, attempting to keep her calm. It was enough to draw her eyes to the movement.
When she looked down she realized that he had abandoned the mug in the dirt and he was already gripping his knife firmly in his grasp. It was clear that he had known before she did that someone was nearby.