Chapter 46 - Casualties of Suffering

The Prison

True to form, Tess struggled to find sleep that night. Not for reasons she expected though. She hadn't even had the opportunity to find the nightmares that awaited her because her body wouldn't allow her to sleep. Every position she lay in was uncomfortable. The memories that were conjured up the more she tried to suppress them left her riddled with nausea all night long.

In the very early morning, not long after midnight, she snuck out of the prison, too hot and restless to continue struggling for sleep. She was used to the come down effects of a panic attack by now, or at least thought she knew them well enough to know they'd end. Yet, normalcy continued to evade her for longer than anticipated.

Something about what had happened in the house was refusing to leave her. The brutal suicide was definitely up there with the worst of the worst and had caused the initial shock but it wasn't what was haunting her. Her thoughts kept drifting to the young boy on the bed - blue, distended, rotting. And then her imagination would get the better of her and she imagined him waking up, no longer himself, and wandering throughout the house; perhaps after eating whatever was left of his father. There was some sort of ironical justice in that. Nevertheless, it made her feel sick to her stomach.

Tess found herself standing in the field by the pigs, asleep in the mud. Flame whinnied at her softly, capturing her attention and she jumped the short fence to meet her. The horse's nose nudged at her shoulder in greeting and Tess tiredly stroked her neck. She was much less afraid of horses now than she was when she'd first met Rick in Atlanta. They were remarkably intuitive animals and it seemed Flame could sense her discomfort by the way she continued to push at her with her nose. It brought a smile to her face and she continued to pet her until Flame grew tired of it and walked away.

She sat with her back to the fence, bare feet buried in the cold grass, and watched Flame graze in the dark. Tess heard the pigs rustling in their sleep, just enough to remind her that they were there. Beyond that, it was silent. A gentle breeze blew across her skin and she closed her eyes, enjoying how it felt against her warm cheeks. Sometimes she missed sleeping outside. The firm ground often felt like home. She'd spent more time sleeping there than she had in a proper bed; of which the bunk in her cell hardly counted as one. The bed in the cabin by the lake was possibly the closest she'd ever come to a bed fit for an established adult.

Her house back in Durham had been a diminutive, two-room apartment. Kitchen and living in one, bedroom and bathroom in the other. Her bed was small to fit the space - double and cheap, regularly unslept in. She often opted for the couch or the floor instead. It was simple, lifeless, no plants or keepsakes. Now and again she'd thought about getting a cat but it'd be lucky if she remembered to feed it and so she always thought better of it. She had never enjoyed being there. It had never been home. Come to think of it, a home was never something she'd had until now.

The longer they went on without sight or sound of The Governor, the more people seemed to grow confident that he wouldn't return. Tess couldn't say she felt the same. They were running out of places to look and it made sense to think he was dead but she refused to believe that a man like him would go down so easily. He wouldn't just roll over and die, no. By existing, they were keeping him alive. Somewhere out there, he was feeding off of a hunger for vengeance and that was stronger than any other desire; she'd know.

Her only home that she'd ever known was under threat as long as they remained there or for as long as he walked this Earth. She'd never leave and she wasn't certain that he was dead, so they were locked in some undisclosed stalemate, forever awaiting trial until they met again. If her dream the other night had given her anything to go on, it was that she knew deep down in her bones that it'd be a trial by fire.

At times, she thought she could still feel her skin burning from the flames that he pulled her into in her dream. Beneath the surface, her blood boiled but her skin remained colorless, perhaps paler than normal. Tension twisted in her chest and the nagging trepidation she felt towards sleep kept her awake as long as it could before exhaustion overcame her and she lay down in the long grass.

Come sunrise and morning, she was still asleep. Hershel found her in the field and he hurried over to her fearfully, shaking her awake. She opened her eyes to his feet - someone, somehow, had found him a prosthesis (for which he was incredibly grateful). Tess sat up against the fence again and stared up at him, confused.

"Morning, Hershel." Her mouth felt dry as she spoke and she wiped at the lines on her face that had embedded themselves there from the grass.

"Have you been out here all night?" He asked her, voice rich with concern.

"I couldn't sleep." She replied and he sighed, knowing it was no use offering to help her with that.

"Are you still feeling unwell?"

"I don't know, I just woke up."

"Alright smarty pants. You can't stay here, why don't we go back up? Linda will be starting breakfast soon." Hershel offered her his hand which she accepted and he helped her to her feet.

They walked quietly back up to the prison and sat together at the lunch table. Tess dropped her head onto the cool metal and breathed a sigh of relief as it chilled her warm skin. Yes, she still didn't feel very well.

"I can't stop thinking about the guy's kid." She mumbled miserably to Hershel.

"You found a child there?"

"Yes. Well, no. He'd killed him."

She heard Hershel gasp at her reply and mutter a short prayer under his breath.

"You have a stronger stomach than most." He told her but her raging ocean of a belly begged to differ.

"It doesn't feel like it right now." She countered and sat upright as people began piling out from breakfast.

Over her shoulder, she spotted Daryl exiting the prison and his face relaxed when he sighted her sitting with Hershel. She nodded at him and he to her and he continued going about his morning knowing she was nearby. As promised, Linda arrived with the early bird crowd and began starting breakfast. The smell did nothing to entice Tess to eat and she nearly laid her head to rest on the table again when Maggie showed up.

"Morning Daddy, morning Tess!" She chirped happily and sat down beside her father. Tess gave her as friendly a smile as she could muster and looked away as the two of them talked quietly amongst themselves.

People began queuing up for food and Hershel and Maggie got up to join them.

"You coming?" Maggie asked her and she shook her head.

"I'm not very hungry." Tess explained. They both fixed her with identical looks of concern but she waved them away. "You guys go."

Hershel didn't comment but it looked like Maggie wanted to. He pulled her away before she could though and left Tess to sit on her own. She absentmindedly picked at her nails beneath the table and watched Rick and Carl wander down to the pigs. Seeing Carl wear his dad's old Sheriff's hat always made her want to laugh. It was still much too big for him and he was continuously forced to reposition it to stop it from falling over his eyes. She smiled fondly in their direction and then her eyes drew to Maggie when she placed a glass of water in front of her.

"Thanks."

"Are you feeling okay? You look a bit peaky." Maggie commented and sat down with her breakfast.

"You're consistent with the compliments, I'll give you that." Tess rolled her eyes and Maggie shook her head.

"Don't be like that. I'm expressing worry for a friend that had something really traumatic happen to them yesterday."

"Sorry."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. No, I'm done talking about it. Besides, what happened with the dad isn't really bothering me anymore."

"So what is?" Maggie frowned and Tess shrugged.

"I don't really know."

Maggie considered her quietly for a moment, chewing the inside of her cheek as she mulled something over. Tess sipped her water slowly and averted her gaze, growing uncomfortable under her silent assessment.

"You and Daryl are safe right?" She asked abruptly and Tess choked on her water.

"Huh?" She coughed painfully.

"I mean, you couldn't be…" Maggie leant in close and whispered "pregnant?"

Tess' eyes bulged in surprise and she stumbled over her words, trying to find an answer.

"What? No, no." She shook her head profusely, while trying to compose herself. "I- I can't."

"I'm not saying you can't. Glenn and I thought we were. I'm just saying, maybe that's something-"

"No, Maggie. Listen to me." Tess grabbed her hand and frowned at her sternly. "I can't."

"What do you mean?" Maggie replied and Tess pulled back.

"I mean, I can't. I can't have children."

"How do you know?"

"That's a bit personal don't you think?"

"Tess…"

"Maggie…" Her tone was firm, warning her off asking further questions but Maggie continued to stare at her imploringly. Eventually, Tess sighed, knowing she had to give her some sort of explanation.

"I'm not just saying that because I think it, okay? I know. Incredibly unlikely was the term the doctor used but they just say that because they think it'll make you feel better. It doesn't." Tess told her and Maggie's eyes softened into regret. "I tell myself I don't want them cause it's easier than admitting I'm some sort of failure."

"That doesn't make you a failure." Maggie told her emphatically and reached for her hands but Tess pulled them away.

"It's the one biological function I'm on this planet to serve and I can't even do that." Tess argued, feeling ashamed.

"That's not true and it definitely does not make you a failure."

"It's probably for the best. Saves me from fucking up some poor kid like my parents did with me."

Maggie looked at her sadly and Tess refused to look back at her because her pity only made her uncomfortable.

"Have you told Daryl?"

"Of course not."

"Don't you think he deserves to know?"

"Well, sure, maybe. I doubt that thought has ever crossed his mind though. I'm not thinking of settling down and having a family any time soon though and I can't imagine he is either."

"But if you're not using protection, surely he'll begin to ask questions."

"I highly doubt that."

"You should tell him."

"I didn't even want to tell you, what makes you think I'm going to tell him?"

"It's not fair for you to keep it from him."

"No, you know what's not fair?" Tess argued perhaps a little too loudly and a few people looked over at her. "You know what's not fair?" She whispered more quietly, leaning in to avoid any eavesdroppers. "Being interrogated about this like it has anything to do with you."

Tess didn't care if it was mean. She was on the defensive and her common sense left her along with her good will. Maggie gawked at her, stunned, and opened her mouth to speak when she was interrupted by the sound of gunshots coming from inside the prison. Tess leapt up from the table,

"Stay with your dad." She instructed Maggie and raced over to the cache to grab the crowbar before running inside.

She fought against the flow of people desperate to get outside, trying to get them to tell her where to go. Over the din, she heard a few coherent voices telling her to head to Cell Block D. Pushing through the crowd, she ran as quickly as she could towards the gunshots that were becoming less and less frequent.

When she arrived at Cell Block D, it was a massacre. Bloodied bodies lay on the floor and red stained every visible surface. Walkers feasted on the fallen and desperately clawed through the bars of the cells where people had managed to hide. Mika and Lizzie, the two young daughters of Ryan Samuels, were hiding behind their father as he fended off a walker. Defenseless, he tried to push it away with his arm but the walker dug its savage teeth into his flesh and he screamed in pain.

Tess bolted across the room, kicking walkers out of her way as she went and tore away the one attacking Ryan. She thrust the end of the crowbar into its skull and ripped it out again, making it fall to the ground. The young girls screamed in fright and she turned to the three of them before shoving the crowbar into the fathers hands.

"Get in there and stay quiet!" She pushed him towards an empty cell. He dragged his daughters away and shut themselves inside.

Tess flicked her only knife into her hand and struck another walker in the head - a woman, she thought her name was Alicia but she couldn't remember. It didn't matter anymore, she was one of the dead now and they had to protect the living. Walkers began making their way down from the upstairs cells and Rick, Glenn, Daryl and Merle all quickly joined her in Cell Block D. She turned away from the door and focused on the walkers coming down the stairwell.

Her head was pounding, the air smelled like copper and she was certain that the bodies coming towards her were starting to blur. She kicked an approaching walker in the knee and stabbed it through the top of its head when it fell. Before the next walker could trip over it, it fell backward on the stairs, an arrow lodged between its eyes. Daryl appeared beside her and together they dealt with the remaining walkers that surrounded them.

"Is it over?" A small, timid voice asked when the final walker fell. Little Lizzie Samuels had her face pressed against the bars of the cell and her wide, disaffected eyes scoured the room. Tess felt unsettled when they landed on her - she looked disappointed and unperturbed at the same time. She couldn't make sense of it.

"Her dad's been bit." Tess whispered to Daryl and he turned to assess Ryan in the cell. Daryl nodded at the kids.

"We got this. Take them."

A traumatized Mika was sobbing beside him and Tess opened the cell door to let them out. Lizzie stepped out on her own accord, gazing down at the bodies on the floor in strange awe. Tess ushered Mika towards her and scooped the girl up in her arms. Her legs wrapped securely around her waist and her hands locked around the back of her neck. Tess felt her head bury into her shoulder as she tried to hide from the carnage and she placed a gentle hand against her back, letting her know she was okay.

After all but dragging Lizzie outside, Tess found Carol waiting anxiously in the courtyard. Lizzie practically skipped towards her and Mika finally lifted her blotchy red face now that she was safely away from the horror. Tess sat Mika at a table with her sister and stared at Carol urgently.

"I gotta talk to you quickly. Girls, wait here." She pulled Carol aside, out of earshot. "Ryan's been bit." Carol sighed sadly. "The girls are going to need to say goodbye."

"I'll take care of it."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Carol nodded confidently and Tess let loose a sigh of relief. She wasn't overly close with the Samuels and it didn't feel right to be the one to handle that moment for them. Together, they walked back over to the kids.

"Is my daddy going to die?" Mika asked them in a trembling voice. Unshed tears bubbled at her eyelashes, threatening to spill.

"Don't be stupid. He's not going to die." Lizzie argued, "He'll just be different." Whether it was naivety or hopefulness, her words were still disturbing.

"Mika, honey, you know what a bite means." Carol gently replied, choosing to ignore her sister's disconcerting comment.

"I should get back to the others." Tess muttered, although she felt much more like going to bed. Carol didn't stop her and she reluctantly walked back into the bloodbath that was Cell Block D. Rick, Glenn, Hershel, Dr. Caleb Subramanian, Daryl, and Bob were all crowded around the body of Charlie - a young man in his early twenties who was prone to sleepwalking. Tracks of dried red blood fell from his eyes and nose down his face and neck and wet, blackened blood seeped from his forehead from a recent wound.

"What happened?" She asked, noticing the way Dr. Subramanian examined him closely.

"No bites. No wounds. I think he just died." Caleb told them, "Horribly, too. Pleurisy aspiration. Choked to death on his own blood. Caused those trails down his face."

"I've seen them before on a walker outside the fences." Rick remarked.

"I saw them on Patrick, too." Daryl added.

Dr. Subramanian leant back from Charlie and looked over at them to explain,

"They're from the internal lung pressure building up- like if you shake a soda can and pop the top. Only imagine your eyes, ears, nose, and throat are the top."

"It's a sickness from the walkers?" Asked Glenn.

"No, these things happened before they were around. Could be pneumococcal. Most likely an aggressive flu strain."

"Good thing someone locked him in just in time then." Merle pointed out from beyond the doors of the cell.

"No, man. Charlie used to sleepwalk." Daryl shook his head. "Locked himself in. Hell, he was just eating barbecue yesterday."

Tess felt chills run through her and her hand began creeping up to her face as if she had any chance of blocking whatever illness this was from getting to her. She tried to ignore the fact that she felt ill, cracking it up to just poor timing and coincidence. Besides, she didn't live in Cell Block D, how could she have gotten sick already?

"How could somebody die in a day just from a cold?" She asked, feeling nauseated.

"I had a sick pig, it died quick. Saw a sick boar in the woods too."

"Pigs and birds. That's how these things spread in the past. We need to do something about those hogs."

"Maybe we got lucky. Maybe these two cases are it." Glenn hoped.

"Haven't seen anybody be lucky in a long time." Merle scoffed derisively.

"Bugs like to run through close quarters. Doesn't get any closer than this."

"All of us in here, we've all been exposed."

—

They carted the bodies outside to be buried. Fourteen in total. Fourteen empty beds and fourteen new graves. Nearly the entirety of Cell Block D. The remainder of the residents were to be dispersed into the other cells for now until their area was habitable again. While they checked the surviving residents and none of them appeared to be sick, they designated Cell Block A as quarantine. Cell Block A had formerly been Death Row, which left them feeling like they would only be sentencing people to their demise but it was the only option they had.

Karen and David, who lived in B Block, had been noticeably coughing, which led them to being the first few to be relegated to quarantine. The discovery of their likely exposure made Tess grow even more nervous. When did they come into contact with the virus? Had they also been feeling unwell like she was now? Tess wasn't coughing though. She just felt tired and sluggish, with the occasional bout of nausea. Maybe she was just overthinking things and making it worse for herself?

While Daryl dug the graves outside for their deceased, Tess, Merle and Bob remained in Cell Block D, getting started on clean up. Merle was being uncharacteristically helpful, which no one made a comment about, lest he change his mind and become a pain in their ass instead. Tess was stripping the blood stained sheets from the beds when Bob stopped her in the D Block Common Room.

"It's a lot to take in, huh." Bob commented idly as she dumped a mound of fabric into a half-full basket.

"What is?" Tess asked, quietly vexed. The way Bob liked to make errant chitchat really annoyed her.

"All of this." He gestured around the room. "The blood and all the death." Tess felt her brow contort into a look of befuddlement and anger. What was the point of this conversation?

"I don't know," She shrugged disinterestedly, "You tell me." She began to walk away from him but he kept pace beside her.

"I only say that because you look a little pale." He explained and she stopped to glare at him.

"I'm always pale. I have red hair for Christ's sake."

"Right, sorry, no that's not what I meant." Bob stuttered nervously and she squinted at him in judgment.

"How's your leg?" She asked him quickly, her mind racing to form conclusions from all the observational information she had on him.

"My leg? It's better." He replied, flexing his knee for good measure.

"Good. Great. I hope your little lapse in sobriety has taught you something."

"My- my what?" Bob stammered, blinking rapidly. "How did you-?"

"It takes one to know one. Except I sure as shit ain't getting other people killed over my lack of self control."

Bob shifted his eyes downcast and his shoulders slumped forward in shame.

"I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt."

"I'm sure you didn't. Still happened though and I hope you live with that."

"I do."

"Good." Tess stepped closer and glowered at him, "If you ever pull that shit again, risk anyone else's life for your own selfish gain, you will regret it. Understood?" She witnessed him gulp and he fidgeted uncomfortably beneath her gaze.

"Understood." Bob nodded pathetically and scurried away from her.

She'd gone out on a limb accusing him like that. It had only been a feeling, something in him that she recognized in herself that made her think he had problems with the drink. It was hard to come by someone in her line of work that hadn't found a vice in something. Alcohol, drugs, gambling. Addicted to the job or the risk, maybe something to increase the numbness or to add to the pain. There was always something. Their occupation was hazardous at best and inhumane at the worst. It was impossible to get out unscathed. Bob just so happened to have an unwavering predilection for booze and a lack of restraint to keep himself from it.

"Damn Red, you're makin' grown men cry. What'd you say to him?" Merle approached her from behind, having passed Bob on his way out of the cells. Tess didn't hear him though. Her head was pounding and she was trapped in a dense brain fog that made it difficult to focus. She did feel him grab her by the shoulder though and jerked away when he did so.

"You alright, Kid?" Merle frowned at her and she gaped at him - confused as to why he was asking her that and stunned that he'd just called her Kid.

"Sure, yeah." She nodded, deciding not to mention how he'd addressed her. Tess picked up the basket of laundry to take it outside to burn.

"You got Doctor Dickhead in a sweat. What'd you say to him?" Merle threw the rag he'd been holding into the basket and she raised an eyebrow at him. "What?" He shrugged, "You're takin' it out ain't ya'?"

"I suppose. I've had enough of cleaning up after dead people." She replied and exited the prison. Merle followed along behind her.

At the back of the prison, where few people ever went, Tess dumped the soiled sheets in an old metal drum and Merle set fire to them with his cigarette lighter. Tess covered her face with her elbow as it began to burn and when they were confident that the fire was burning strong, they stepped back, leaving it to turn to ash. Merle sat in the plastic chair and Tess leant against the brick wall beside him while they quietly watched the flames build.

"Bob's an alcoholic." Tess told Merle after a few more minutes of silence. He glanced up at her with the signature Dixon squint that was neither friendly nor unfriendly, it just was.

"How d'you know?" He asked, sounding unsurprised.

"Same way you do." She replied, "Hard to hide being an addict to an addict. Current or not."

"What're 'ya gon' do 'bout it?"

"Nothing. What am I supposed to do? I warned him to think twice before slipping up again. He's not needed here. If he wants to jeopardize his ability to stay then he can damn well leave."

Merle's squint narrowed further and he shifted in the chair, turning to face her.

"Sometimes I think you're angrier at the world than I am."

"You think I'm wrong?" Tess frowned.

"I ain't say that."

"I'm not hard on him because I hate him. I don't hate him. I don't particularly care for him but I definitely care about other people more. Zach died because of him. I don't want to risk that happening to anyone else."

"So why not just send him on the midnight train to Slab City?"

"I'm not a stone-cold murderer. Do you have a smoke? This conversation is making me anxious."

Merle pulled a nearly empty packet of cigarettes from his pocket, lit one for her and handed it over. She took a long drag from it and exhaled slowly, watching the cloud of smoke disappear in the air.

"I'm not gonna kill him."

"Was just a suggestion." He shrugged and pulled from his own cigarette.

"I've had enough of this fucking day." Tess threw the stump of her cigarette onto the ground and stamped it out with her boot. "I'm going to bed. If anyone asks for me, you don't know where I am."

She walked past him, prepared to sleep the rest of the day away.

"You got it, Kid."

Tess froze, turned and stared at the back of his head.

"Thank you, Merle."

"For what?"

"Being a friend."

Merle exhaled sharply, making a noise that sounded like pfft. Tess rolled her eyes; of course he wasn't going to just take the compliment.

"Get out of here, Red," He warned her, "before I tell everyone where you're at."

Merle listened to her quietening footsteps as she walked away, feeling uncomfortably sentimental.

—

Daryl was sick and tired of burying people. He had been sick and tired of it long before now and he could think of a million other things that he'd rather do - like walk through a field of locusts or listen to his brother bitch about the 'downright unjust' division of labor, but when Rick came to lend a hand, he nearly turned him away. As much as he hated it, it was a responsibility he wanted to shoulder on his own. He knew the burden it bore and the less people it weighed on the better in his eyes. Sharing the load still wasn't something he had become accustomed to just yet.

Rick was no stranger to the toll though. He'd had more than his fair share of it solely on his shoulders. Daryl was willing to lighten that for him if he could. Over the last month, Rick had taken a step back from leadership, both voluntarily and by demand. It had been good for him too. Now though, with this new threat inside their very walls, Daryl felt like they were in need of his guidance again. He knew how to make the hard calls and they'd always wound up on the right side of things in the end. They needed that now.

"You gonna help us figure this out?" Daryl asked him, leaning on his shovel to rest. Rick had shook his head, unable to look him in the eyes.

"I've screwed up too many times."

"You had to make the calls you did. Ain't no one here that would argue against that. We wouldn't be here without you."

"It was all of us."

"It was you first."

"Whatever this place needs from me, I'm here for it."

It wasn't confirmation that the Sheriff was back but it was assurance enough that Rick would be there in whatever capacity they needed from him. Leader, soldier, runner; he'd do whatever was asked of him if it meant the difference between life and death. They never had the chance to speak more of it before they were called over to the fence by Maggie. A sizable horde of walkers were frantically charging at a small section of the fence, causing it to bow and sag dangerously.

It took five of them to hold the fence up and Daryl did his best to shoot as many as he could with his crossbow but there were too many of them for him to even make a dent. The carcasses of dead rats lay scattered at their feet - the only indicator they had as to what was potentially causing the walkers to cluster together as they were. It took Rick and Daryl luring them away with one of the trucks and sacrificing the pigs in order for them all to finally pull away from the fence. It had been Rick's call and it left Daryl feeling confident that they could rely on him once again.

After the morning they'd had and the afternoon that proceeded it, Daryl was well and truly prepared to call it a day. He considered going hunting and spending the night away on his own but knew that he was needed here and so decided not to run away. He wanted quiet and calm and so he sought out the one safe place he'd come to know.

He found her lying on the floor of her cell with the sheet drawn. Tess' face was pressed against the cold concrete, soothing the heat of her skin, and for a moment he thought she was sleeping. Until her eyes peeked open to see who had entered her room and she sat up with a thin smile and a gentle greeting.

"What're you doin' on the floor?" He asked, joining her.

"The bed was too warm and uncomfortable." She replied and Daryl took in her flushed face and the slight sheen of her skin that made him concerned. He reached over and placed the back of his hand against her forehead.

"You're hot." He told her and she smirked, laughing;

"Thank you."

"That's not… I meant-"

"I know what you meant, I'm only joking."

Tess smiled at the way Daryl so quickly got flustered. The tops of his ears turned red and he ducked his head, feeling like a dorky teenager again. She giggled at his expense but her throat was starting to feel scratchy and she ended up coughing into her arm as quietly as she could.

"Are you sick?" Daryl frowned at her but made no move to distance herself.

"I might be…" Tess finally accepted, "Maybe you should leave?"

"Bit late for that."

"I thought it was just what happened yesterday that was getting to me but now I don't know. I fell asleep beside those damn pigs this morning."

"What were you doin' sleepin' outside?"

"It sounds stupid but I kinda miss living rough, y'know? After I came back from deployment I couldn't sleep in my bed. Sometimes it's still like that."

"Do you miss it? Back then?"

"Not really, no. Apart from the few friends I had, my life was pretty disappointing. I'm happier now than I was then." Tess smiled at him softly, letting him know that she meant every word.

Daryl nodded thoughtfully, relieved to hear her say it. Insecurity was a fickle mistress that kept him from ever thinking anybody was ever better off with him.

"What about you?" She asked, shuffling to rest her back against the wall.

"Ain't nothin' much to miss." Daryl shrugged and mirrored her.

"I sometimes wonder what would have happened if we'd have met and the world hadn't gone to shit."

"You wouldn't have liked me back then."

"You don't know that. I thought you were alright back at the quarry."

"Nah, I was different back then. I weren't a person you would'a wanted to know."

Uneasily, Daryl squeezed his hands into tight fists and he glowered at the dark gray slab beneath his feet.

"Why is that?" Tess asked curiously, finding it hard to believe that anything he'd tell her would be any worse than the things she'd done in life.

"I was into some shit I ain't proud of. I thought it was all I was good for."

"If I asked you what, would you tell me?"

"Probably not." Daryl sullenly answered her.

He didn't want to risk her seeing him any differently. He'd helped Merle push pills, crystal, smack, and whatever else his brother had been able to get his hands on. Daryl knew of her propensity towards prescription medication and he couldn't imagine her taking too kindly to his previous occupation; regardless of whether he'd chosen that life for himself or not. Of all the little good he'd had and lost in his life, he was determined that she be the one thing he kept.

"Okay, I won't ask then."

Tess reached over and clasped his closed fist. Her touch was tender and her thumb brushed across his knuckles in a soothing manner that made his fists unfurl. Slowly, his hand turned over and she held it - the entire time, Daryl watched it happen with wondrous apprehension, expecting himself to pull away but he never did. Instead, he held her hand in his, warming her cool skin.

Their fingers weren't intertwined. It wasn't a romantic gesture. It was a show of support. It was the safety he'd become bound to. He owed a lot to her - his own self-worth, his growth into the person he was today, his brother's life. None of it he'd ever be able to repay or even begin to thank her for. He'd found a home in her and she in him.

Tess dropped her head to his shoulder and closed her eyes, breathing him in. He smelled like Earth and leather, tobacco and grease. It was distinctly him and she took comfort in it. She knew it was unwise for her to remain here with him, acknowledging now that she was indeed sick, but she didn't want to go to Cell Block A.

"What did you want to be when you grew up?" She asked him instead, choosing to remain as they were for as long as they could. Daryl pondered over it for only a short while before entertaining her unusual question.

"An astronaut."

"Really?" A smile stretched across her face. "You were a space kid?"

"It was the furthest place away from home that I could think of." Daryl shrugged nonchalantly. Tess peered up at him as her smile fell. She knew that feeling of wanting to escape and it hurt to know that he did too.

"I wanted to be a painter." She said in a hushed voice.

"Yeah?"

"I liked to get my hands dirty and I liked all the colors but I'm actually not a very good artist, so it was just a dream."

"Art's subjective, ain't it?"

"Sure. Jackson Pollock beat me to it way back in the fifties though."

"I don't know who Jackson Pollock is but I'd hang your art up if I had it."

Tess lifted her head from his shoulder and she stared at him with adoration. Her heart swelled in her chest with her love for him. Daryl continued to be everything she could have ever wanted in life and more.

"You're real sweet y'know that?" She whispered and a small frown creased his face.

"You're the only one who thinks that." He replied and she shook her head.

"I'm the only one you show it to." She argued and he knew it was true.

Daryl's head dropped to hers and with caution thrown to the wind, he kissed her. He felt a hand grip the fabric of his shirt and his fingers threaded into the hair at the base of her head. If he got sick, then so be it. Nothing felt more important than this did right now.

Tess welcomed it devotedly. There was no greater joy than this, she was certain of that. It was ardent and healing, her worries completely forgotten for a short moment in time. When Tess finally pulled away, she did so somberly. It wasn't right that she stayed here, endangering him and whoever else she potentially got sick. They had a designated quarantine area for a reason and she wasn't above the rules. What she was, however, was afraid.

"I don't want to sit on death row." She muttered meekly.

"I know." Daryl's voice was strained and hoarse. He didn't want her in there either.

"I have to." Her voice barely broke volume and she felt as weak as she sounded. Daryl's hand left her hair and found her jaw, brushing at it unsurely.

"In the morning." He promised her.

They could have the night.