She pulls back, sliding her hands over his shoulders as she goes flat on her feet. She's lookin' at him entirely different than before, but he still thinks of the first time she wriggled her little arms around him. He thinks briefly of Zach. He thinks of her pulling her damn sweater back up her shoulder, the unruly pulse he'd felt in his bloodstream when she'd done it. He thinks now that maybe that's when it started.
He touches the collar of her sweater.
He breaks her silence, asks under his breath, "What're you thanking me for?"
One side of her mouth tips, the slightest of smiles. She shrugs her shoulders, rolls her eyes, teasing him: "You know," she says, mocking him.
But he doesn't. He doesn't know why she'd thank him, and he doesn't know what to call this feeling inside him.
He drops his hands from her. Has to step back. Needs the space to pull oxygen in. "Didn't do anything."
"You did."
He takes another step back from her simple, unwavering vehemence. He leans back against the doorframe, trying to act like he isn't baffled by her. He scoffs.
"Daryl." She says his name like she's scolding him. "Without you, none of us would be here at all."
And she turns her back, again, fidgeting around the side of the bed, like what she's just said isn't something he'd like to argue the finer points of. Like she couldn't fathom a reason why he'd feel useless, worthless. She pulls the blanket back, toeing her boots off, too young to move like that, like she feels 80. She sits on the bed without shifting the mattress, so she doesn't jostle Judy.
He straightens up. Squirms a bit himself with knowing that's his cue to go, but not wanting to leave yet. She rolls her shoulders, angles her head to gaze at him. "You said a proper hi to Jude yet?"
Daryl shakes his head, chews his cheek till it aches. He thinks of earlier, breaking across the road when the walkers had gone by, leaving Carol with Judy, and the rest of them to deal with whatever he'd left. Rick and them, they were all capable, but they depended on him- it wasn't his best choice to be cutting loose from the group, worrying about her and- and the others and what could have been happening somewhere else. He sighs hard.
"Daryl." She says it so delicately, he looks up sharply- he feels a flush when he sees the look on her face. He knows, he knows she'd just seen it, the struggle, the thoughts in his head. He doesn't know if he's slipping, giving himself away easier now, or if she's just got better vision than everyone else.
He knows it's unsettling.
She only tilts her head to the opposite side of the bed, the other side of Judy, and asks, "Why don't you stay with us a while?"