Chapter Text
Spencer’s front door was open. Rick saw straight out of the back door to the shimmer of the fire in the garden. They had no rational reason for the open fire -- the weather was mellow for a September evening -- but they all craved the other kind of warmth the fire brought: the hypnotic dance of the flames, the kind shadows it swayed on the faces of the Alexandrians who had gathered around it to spend the evening together. Rick moved silently to the back door and stopped to look at the people. His people. And the Alexandrians who were not all quite his yet. Time would tell. They had gone through some rough times together lately, though, so Rick was feeling cautiously optimistic.
Michonne, Carol and Denise were sitting together, in the middle of a vocal conversation. Tara was settled down close by, listening to the three women with an amused expression. Maggie was sprawled on a quilt with her head on Glenn’s lap, laughing at something Sasha had just said. Carl hovered near them with Enid. Rosita and Abraham were glued to each other, having a heated argument peppered with definitely R-rated kisses. Rick rolled his eyes. He’d have to keep an eye on the situation; maybe ask those two to tone it down a bit for Carl and Enid.
Aaron and Eric sat on a bench, holding hands and looking into each other’s eyes. Rick smiled. Next to Glenn and Maggie, those two were the most adorable couple in this fucked up world, and somehow renewed his trust in humankind.
Rick didn’t have a homophobe bone in his body, hadn’t ever really seen the point of being that interested in what other people did together as long as no-one was being abused or made feel bad about themselves in any way. Love was love, lust was lust -- right? Now, if someone was being hurt at the process, then that was something Rick was definitely interested in. His blood boiled, even now, thinking how Pete had treated Jessie. He looked at Aaron and Eric again, saw how tenderly Aaron was brushing Eric’s knuckles with his thumb. No, Rick really didn’t get what the fuss was about gays (was? or had been? does anyone care anymore, really? aren’t there more pressing issues at hand than what the gender distribution of a romantic couple is?). It wasn’t as if straight couples had everything figured out perfectly, now was it!
Rick continued to look at the small groups. Sure as hell not all was alright with the world, and who knew what kind of shit would hit the fan tomorrow, but right now Rick’s extended family was at peace, and Rick felt warm and calm. He moved his eyes forward, searching… and yes, Daryl was here. He was sitting slightly apart from the others and Rick actually had him in his direct line of sight.
Rick frowned. Among the relaxed others, Daryl stood out: he sat there tense and wary, looking at something. Rick blinked, tried to sharpen his eyes, and follow the direction of Daryl’s gaze.
He was looking at Aaron and Eric. Staring at them.
Rick bit his lip. He had no idea what Daryl’s opinion about gay people was, not really. Rick couldn’t imagine his upbringing had included much tolerance or acceptance. Merle had been a flaming racist, and Rick could well imagine what Merle’s ideas of ‘true masculinity’ had been. What little Rick knew about Daryl’s father didn’t give him any reason to think that gays had been spoken of respectfully in their household. So, considering, Daryl had seemed remarkably well-adjusted, really. He had taken to Aaron pretty quickly, working with him on supply runs, and Daryl had liked Tara and Denise from the start.
So where did this intense stare come from? And why? Rick felt a faint stirring of disappointment even though he knew he shouldn’t. Sometimes your upbringing just couldn’t be suppressed, and nobody could say that Daryl hadn’t already achieved so much. What did he expect from him -- bloody perfection??
Rick’s lips twitched into a melancholy shadow of a smile. It seemed that that was exactly what he had been expecting from the hunter.
He kept looking at Daryl looking at Aaron and Eric. Rick couldn’t see the expression on his face clearly, but then the wind turned, just a bit, and the flames threw a pool of light on Daryl’s face. Which he probably didn’t realize himself because he didn’t move a muscle. Well, that’s interesting, Rick thought, slightly puzzled. Daryl’s face was not the face of a closet homophobe. There wasn’t an ounce of hostility or aggression, suppressed or otherwise. Rick frowned. He had a lot of experience in interpreting nonverbal communication, but he was the first to admit that his experience lay more with the negative and the aggressive, the lies and the truths, which came with the territory of being an officer of the law. He was glad he didn’t see any of that on Daryl’s face; it was just that now he was forced to try dig up some other explanation. If not scorn, then what was the reason for the intense stare?
It looked like Daryl had almost forgotten that he wasn’t alone -- that he too could be watched. A rare occurrence for the alert, jumpy archer. However, that meant that Rick had ample time to glide his eyes back and forth over his friend’s face, to try to decipher every line and quiver of muscle. He scrolled through all conceivable emotions in his mind until one seemed to hit home. It was a wonder the *click* in his mind wasn’t actually audible all the way to the other side of the fire -- it felt that loud in his head.
He remembered Lori. How she had sometimes looked when she was watching children in playgrounds or malls. They had tried for a second child for many years, hope finally dwindling after ten years of effort. That was exactly what Lori had looked like. Wistful -- looking at something she wanted so bad but couldn’t ever get. (well, little did she know, but Rick so wasn’t going there now.)
Wistful? Was that really it? Rick felt a powerful surge of empathy towards his friend, and criticised himself for not figuring this out sooner. He knew how out of place the hunter sometimes felt. And even though Daryl was supremely confident in some ways, in some others he not only didn’t have a good sense of self-worth but his self-confidence meter almost ran in negative numbers. All his old friends -- including any possible girlfriends -- were probably dead. Rick scolded himself again: he had never even asked whether Daryl had lost someone special. Just because Daryl didn’t seem to show any interest in any of the ladies, didn’t mean he wouldn’t want a relationship.
Something in that thought bothered Rick. Something twisted in his gut, surprising him. Now, what was that about? Probably just hungry, and he mentally shrugged his shoulders.
Back to the business at hand: what was it that had bothered him? Thinking, Rick let his eyes drift over the small groups. Abraham and Rosita still arguing and kissing, Glenn looking down at Maggie with such fondness in his smile, Carl and Enid -- wait-a-minute!! -- holding hands now, looking mighty shy. His gaze came back to Daryl who hadn’t moved an inch, who was still watching Aaron and Eric with the same wistful expression, face half covered in stubborn strays of long hair.
Oh. Now he got it. Among all these romantic couples, why was Daryl casting longing looks on the one couple that wasn’t straight?
Well. This took some rearranging of previous conceptions. Ok...hmm... Daryl seemed to get along awfully fine with Aaron. Had even gone so far as vehemently defending Aaron that one time when Rick had grumbled about the Alexandrian attitude and had mentioned Aaron’s name among the others. He spent a lot of time in their garage, tinkling with the motorcycle Aaron had given him. Last week, they had gone for a scouting trip on just that motorcycle, figuring it was more agile for the purpose than taking a car for Aaron, and left with Aaron’s arms wrapped around Daryl’s waist.
Fucking hunger pangs. Quit it already. In a minute!
Rick looked at Aaron and Eric again. They were talking animatedly with Morgan; Aaron’s hand on Eric’s shoulder, and they looked relaxed and happy together.
Nowadays, Rick thought he sort of knew Aaron. He was a genuinely nice person. Earnest, good-natured, brave, and thoroughly bad-ass when it came to defending his people. Even though Rick wished for every happiness for his friend, he couldn’t believe Aaron capable of two-timing Eric. Rick was not naïve, he knew perfectly well what people were capable of, but this, for some reason… just, no.
He flicked his eyes over to the hunter. Daryl was taking a break from watching the laughing couple; he was staring at his hands, fidgeting with his cigarette. He trailed fingers through his long hair, for a minute baring the whole of his face for Rick to see. Daryl’s eyes were downcast, his jaw was moving tensely, he exhaled, let his rigid shoulders relax, and Rick saw a determined mask fall over his face. When Daryl raised his eyes, again towards the couple, the wistfulness was gone. All that was left was the familiar, guarded expression.
Rick felt for his friend, truly he did. He wanted to help but didn’t quite know what to do. He couldn’t very well bring this up, now could he? Well, could he?? No, probably not. Even though Rick didn’t much care who slept (or wanted to sleep) with whom, he knew not everyone shared his opinion, and who knew in how many ways this could be a painful subject for Daryl. Unrequited feelings were never a source of happy conversations anyway, even in the best of circumstances.
Again his stomach twisted.
From the corner of his eye, he realized someone was watching him. Slowly, he turned his head. Carol smiled at him. Very carefully she directed her gaze to Daryl, then back at Rick. She raised an eyebrow questioningly.
She’s probably seen Daryl’s not ok and wants me to go talk to him. Yeah. I’ll grab a piece of pie and do just that. Rick walked across the small garden, past the fire, took a few pieces of meat pie on a plate, and strolled over to his friend. Daryl had noticed him immediately and watched him come closer. People were greeting him left and right, and Rick nodded at everyone while sitting down on the narrow bench Daryl was currently occupying.
“Move your ass, you’re hogging the whole bench,” Rick said jovially. Daryl grunted but shifted a few inches, just enough to let Rick have a bit of elbow room. Rick felt warmth emanate from the archer -- a familiar heat of dozens of nights on the road, before the prison, when they all had huddled together at nights to share their body heat. Most often it had been Carl on the one side of Rick, and Daryl on the other. It just had been like that -- just like it had always been Carol with Beth and Lori, or T-Dog with Hershel, Glenn and Maggie. A feeling of comfortable familiarity washed over Rick, and at the same time his stomach twisted again.
“Have you had anything to eat yet? I brought two pieces, take one, ok?”
“Nah, I’m good, had two pieces already. Been here awhile. Thanks though.”
Their silence was companionable, just like it always was. Having eaten the pieces, Rick enjoyed being a total savage, and licked his fingers clean. Yummy. I should’ve taken a third piece. This oughta stop my stomach twistin’ and turnin’. Rick’s belly was full, he was sitting by his friend and trusted second-in-command, surrounded by his family, the weather was fine, and nobody was in mortal danger. Small moments of perfection.
He felt Daryl’s eyes on him, and turned towards him, all the while meticulously sucking on the forefinger of his left hand, raising his eyebrow in question. It was hard to see Daryl’s eyes now, they were so carefully hidden behind the bangs. He raised his right hand and threaded his fingers through Daryl’s bangs to sweep them off his eyes. “I can’t see your face, it’s distracting,” Rick said good-humoredly. Daryl kept looking at him, something in his eyes Rick didn’t quite catch, maybe something resembling a deer-in-the-headlights -- but why would it? There was no reason for Daryl to feel nervous with him!
Rick nudged him. “Hey, whatcha thinkin’? You good?”
An affirmative grunt. Eyes turned away.
“Anything interestin’ on today’s scouting? Have a good time with Aaron?” Rick’s voice was carefully airy.
Daryl glanced at him quickly, then let his eyes drift over to the couple. “Was fine. Nothin’ special. Aaron’s a good guy, easy to be around.”
Goddamnit, stomach’s still twisting. Hope I’m not coming down with anything.
“I’m glad you get along so well. Can’t have too many friends nowadays.”
“Wouldn’t know anythin’ about that. Never had any before.” Daryl’s gruff voice held no self-pity, just a statement of a fact.
“Well, now you do. Gotta get used to being liked.”
A glance. A huff. “Some days I am. Some days I ain’t. ‘s not easy to trust bein’ liked. Not really somethin’ I was encouraged to do, before.”
Daryl’s voice was darkly amused. Rick was surprised -- the archer tended to be a man of so few words that this qualified as chatty. Rick decided to strike when the iron was hot.
“When do you trust in that, then?”
“Well… I guess there were days before the prison. Not so many but some. More in the prison. Days when I thought you guys liked me and not just the hunter. Toughest was when I left with Merle. That was a day when I didn’t trust. You said you needed me. But I wasn’t sure if it was me or the hunter you needed.”
“You came back though,” Rick said faintly, overwhelmed by this rarest of phenomenon: a talkative Daryl.
“For me. I came back for me. Because of… I decided I didn’t care what you liked. The hunter or just me. It was… what I liked. And needed. I liked being with you, and I wanted to do what I liked.”
Daryl didn’t look Rick in the eye. He was staring at his hands, fidgeting his fingers, restless.
“Merle didn’t get it then. Probably did before the end. He wasn’t liked either, never was. Useful. Fit into groups of his own kind. I don’t know that likin’ ever came into it.
And there’s nothin’ wrong with needin’ people. I got it then. Needin’ ain’t the same as usin’. Exploitin’. I guess… something clicked when me and Merle saved those people on the bridge. You needed me, maybe liked too, but I needed you as well, and liked you, no doubt about that. You were my family like nobody had been before. Not like that. And it could’ve worked out, for Merle even, without his stupid thing with Michonne.”
Daryl shrugged. “So yeah, some days I trust and some days I don’t. Bein’ here’s tough…”
“I know it is.” Rick said gently. Just as gently he put his hand on Daryl’s shoulder, squeezed, wanting to channel understanding and friendship.
Daryl tensed up for a second; Rick wondered if this time he’d made a mistake with this gesture, so habitual in their daily lives, but just before he took his hand away, Daryl relaxed into his touch, and Rick could’ve sworn he saw Daryl’s lips twitch, smile-like.
“It still ain’t easy. Some days are worse than others. It’s like an itch on my skin, the feelin’ that people are lookin’ right through me. Like, before. But then it gets better, doesn’t need much. Carl comes over just to chat. Carol drags me to their place to taste some new recipe. Aaron and Eric invite to dinner. Or somethin’. Little stuff. Makes me feel better about myself. Like I exist.”
Daryl’s voice had gotten so low Rick had trouble hearing the words. He was shocked by the things the hunter was saying. Daryl was reticent and guarded with his emotions, to a fault, really. Only rarely had Rick witnessed Daryl give anything away. Mostly just when something absolutely horrible happened. Sophia’s fate. Beth’s death. Merle’s death. Or the few outbursts of violent rage -- but even they had got rarer as Daryl had got more comfortable in his own skin.
Rick was embarrassed. It wasn't that he didn’t think Daryl was smart. He KNEW without the smallest doubt that the man was smart, and clever, and had sound instincts, and a real gift for tactical thinking. He just hadn’t guessed the archer had a knack for introspection.
After all this time of traveling and fighting and living together, how is it even possible I didn’t know any of this about him? I had no idea he might want a relationship. I had even less of an idea that he has a crush on Aaron. Who is a man. Which is neither here nor there, but I do admit I never saw it coming. And now I learn he’s got this philosophical introspection thing going.
Rick’s eyes were glued on Daryl’s face. The archer wasn’t looking at him. His gaze wandered every which way, and the silent minutes stretched on and on, the voices and laughter of the others a background to be ignored. Rick’s hand was still on Daryl’s shoulder. Finally, it was Daryl who broke the silence.
“Man, say somethin’. You’re freakin’ me out here.” At last he focused on Rick, blue eyes narrow and wary behind the bangs.
“Daryl, I had no idea you felt this way. Why didn’t you say something, ever? Didn’t you trust me enough?”
“Nah, man, this ain’t about you… It’s me. I don’t even know why I talked just now.”
Rick noticed Daryl’s eyes stray towards the couple again. His stomach twisted so violently, for a moment he felt nauseous.
“When you left with Merle, I think I lost my mind a little. Ask Glenn. Ask Maggie. Ask anyone. You’d’ve seen that, you wouldn’t have had to wonder who it was I needed. I guess saying things don’t make them real enough for you but… you have no idea how much you mean to us. Sure, you hunt, you track, you fight like a demon, and we’d all have been dead twice over without you. For practical purposes, you’re probably the most essential of our entire family. But, you know, I guess you could say something similar about Carol, who’s probably the most lethal of us all. But that’s not why you like Carol, is it? It’s not the reason why we need her. It’s the other stuff, her personality, her loyalty, her absolute love for us.
And it’s the same with you, you know, you gotta know that?! It’s the whole package: your skills, your steadfast loyalty, your huge heart; it’s you taking care of Carl and being so gentle with Judith; it’s you being there by my side, being the one I can trust to keep me grounded whatever happens. You’re the one I can relax with without saying anything. You let me be me. I had hoped you’d know that I’ll always let you be you. ‘Cause you just being you, that’s pretty damn good. You gotta know that by now?”
Rick noticed a flush rise on Daryl’s face; it wasn't like he didn’t feel himself blush as well. Sure, he was more talkative than Daryl but it wasn't everyday a guy talked so much about feelings. Especially not in this brave new world where most of existence went into survival. He just hoped that he had said at least a few right words, something to solidify Daryl’s trust that Rick would never, ever, think less of him for him being who he was. He really hoped he could get Daryl to say something about Aaron because, man, that couldn’t end well, and Rick would so much want to help Daryl see it before he got in too deep.
He squeezed Daryl’s shoulder again. Moved his thumb in round circles in a clumsy caress, then his whole hand up and down Daryl’s arm, to show he cared, and to ground Daryl like he always grounded him. You exist. You matter.
“Like I said, sometimes I do and then I don’t. Most of the time I guess I do know. But then, it’s worse when it crashes. The fall is hard. It didn’t used to, I guess ‘cause I never thought much of myself and nobody else did either. It’s different now so…”
Daryl kept looking at Aaron and Eric. Rick felt a surge of violent temptation to grab Daryl’s face and force him to meet his eyes. To look at him, not at someone else. Ok, not for the same reasons but whatever. At him!
He steadied himself. A long and sometimes bitter experience had taught him that trying to back Daryl in a corner never worked. Ever. You simply could not force an issue with the man. He locked up tighter than Fort Knox.
Rick glanced around. Maggie was putting more wood in the fire. Carol was standing by the table, picking tomatoes on her plate -- and watching Rick and Daryl with a hint of a frown on her face. When she realized Rick had noticed her, she raised an eyebrow questioningly. This time, Rick didn’t quite grasp what the question was. He decided a nod would serve a multitude of purposes, and then turned his face back to the archer. Daryl sat there, hunched, elbows resting on his thighs, one hand running through his fringe again and again. Rick realized he had been running his hand on Daryl’s arm all this time. Should he stop or did his friend find comfort and reassurance in the touch? He hadn’t pulled back, so there was that. Nevertheless, Rick slowly put his hand back on his lap.
Daryl pulled a deep breath and straightened his back. Looked at Rick with his usual stolid expression.
“Enough I guess. All this shit about feelings. Sorry, man, I still don’t know what made me talk like that to you. Just forget it ok.”
“Talk to me especially or to anybody in general? You should have someone to talk about stuff. You know, this stuff. Like tonight.”
“I talk some to Aaron.”
Rick swallowed. Tried hard to keep his voice steady and good-humored.
“Why Aaron? He’s a nice person for sure but why him, why someone you barely know?”
Rick cursed at himself. The way Daryl glanced at him said louder than words that the man had read between the lines, had heard the screaming bundle of implied questions: “Why not me? you know me! we’re old friends, aren’t we?”
Truly pathetic.
Daryl’s eyes, unreadable, stayed on Rick. Usually, Rick only had to take one look at Daryl and just know what he was thinking. Which had come in handy numerous times; in the thick of a fight, or in the midst of a difficult argument with the group, it normally sufficed to look at each other to convey a long conversation, and a tiny nod or a shake of the head would seal the deal for Rick. But now, Daryl’s gaze was shuttered, and Rick had no idea what was going on in his head.
For a few moments, it seemed like Daryl wasn’t going to answer.
He grunted, sort of pensively.
“He don’t know me, not anythin’ about me. Never met Merle. Never met me, before. Don’t know what I was. Easier to talk. And he knows somethin’ about bein’ an outsider.”
Rick would’ve wanted to argue that he knew too, but they’d both have known it wasn’t true. Rick had always been an insider wherever he went -- as a good-looking straight white male, with an ok family background and reasonable education, there simply wasn’t any way he could claim knowing what it meant being generally not wanted, an outsider, not being welcome; to be sneered at or ridiculed on principle alone.
Well. This is not about me, Rick reminded himself. No reason to feel sorry for myself because I’ve always had it pretty easy. That’s just childish. This is about Daryl. This is about being a good friend to Daryl.
But before he had time to say anything at all, the other man rose in a very decisive manner, took a few steps, turned his head back to Rick and said gruffly: “Thanks for listenin’. Forget it, though. Not worth rememberin’. Nothin’ you can do, anyways.”
And then he was gone.
********************
Carol had been watching, the plate all but forgotten in her hand. She followed Daryl with her eyes, and when he was gone, she briskly trotted to Rick.
“What the hell was that about?”
“How so?”
“Don’t try that with me, Grimes. I know you two better than most. Something’s been bothering Daryl for weeks, and he sat alone tonight, and if that wasn’t brooding I don’t know what is. I’m surprised Aaron and Eric don’t have burning holes in their heads for all the staring he did. And then you came and there was some more staring. What IS it with you guys??”
“Fuck if I know.” Rick was frustrated, and Carol’s rant didn’t help much. “Now you’re telling me Daryl’s been upset for weeks, and that’s yet another thing I didn’t know. How come you notice this stuff and I don’t? He’s a… he’s like a brother to me and it seems I’m the last one to find anything out.”
“Oh honey, get real! You’ve been so wrapped up in rebuilding this place after the Wolves and the Walkers that you’ve been ignoring us all. When’s the last time you actually sat down for a proper conversation with any of us?”
Rick looked quite struck, and Carol leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“Don’t mind us, though, we’re all good. Maggie and Glenn and I, we’ve been with you so long that we know you love us anyway. Michonne just raises her eyebrows and says, “It’s Rick!” like it explains everything. And Carl… well, I bet nothing much can get between you two these days.”
Carol grew more serious.
“But Daryl, he’s another thing. You know how he can be. Feels like he doesn’t belong. In the prison not so much but here, it’s so goddamned civilized,” Carol snorted, her way of saying the word sounding like a profanity, “and this is just the kind of setting which must bring back some unpleasant memories for him. This is not the time or place to let Daryl be too much on his own.”
Rick felt a faint blush on his face. Carol’s criticism tended to have that effect on people, never mind their age or status.
“It’s not like he’s on his own! He lives with us! -And he has new friends,” Rick continued, more calmly. “Not a day goes by without him spending time with Aaron, fixing the bike in their garage, or going scouting, or whatever.”
In retrospect, Rick wasn’t absolutely certain that was the most sensible thing to say; he thought it might be possible that it didn’t come out just right -- that it may have implied something more. Carol was too observant for her own good anyway, and if Daryl was harbouring feelings for Aaron then, well, that was not his secret to reveal with incautious babble.
“Oh yes, well, Aaron… he’s a really great guy, and so attractive, right?! Don’t you just love how good friends they’ve become? It’s quite heart-warming to see how Aaron and Eric welcome Daryl to their company with open arms.”
Rick was a bit baffled by the unmistakably teasing tone; and was it really necessary to gush like that -- Carol practically cooed. In a second, however, she renewed the admonishing steel to her voice.
“I want Daryl to have everything he deserves. He doesn’t really think he deserves very much. But he does, and you know it too. And if he now has a new bosom buddy, I really don’t begrudge it. Nor should you. Especially as you have left him at loose ends in a surroundings that’s definitely out of his comfort zone. If someone is taking your place, you have only yourself to blame.”
“I don’t begrudge anything!”
So Carol didn’t have any idea of Daryl’s feelings. She was under the impression that Rick was jealous of Daryl having new friends. Well fuck, wasn’t that just…
...
...remarkably accurate, actually.
Oh hell.
Carol kept looking at him like he was a five-year-old who she’d just sent to sit in the corner and think about what he’d done. And that was about right how Rick felt. How small and petty can you be if you don’t want a person you care for to have other important people? Well, not quite -- Rick loved that Carol and Daryl were so close. Other new important people, then.
But Carol didn’t have all the facts, now did she?? If she had, she wouldn’t be so happy about Aaron… she’d know how devastating the rejection would be for Daryl, and anyway, even without an outright rejection, a one-sided, unrequited love affair could suck the energy right out of anyone, and Daryl didn’t deserve that either.
He had to speak with Daryl about this, somehow. Ok, maybe not straight away, maybe some observation was in order first. And first priority: he had to be a better friend to him. Daryl did everything for his extended family, he deserved better than this. Rick should delegate some stuff to others, he didn’t have to do everything himself. It was about time he had more time to spend with Daryl. Maybe go on a scouting trip with him. Like the old days.
Rick smiled, deep in thought. Carol nudged him playfully. “Whatcha thinking? What makes you smile like that?”
“Thinking of Daryl.”
Carol snorted.
“Oh I see, yes yes, very funny… I was just thinking that maybe tomorrow I could go outside with Daryl. Like we used to, before. I don’t know why I stopped going with him.”
********************
Rick walked over to Aaron and Eric.
“Listen, Aaron, I was wondering, you planning to go on a supply run tomorrow with Daryl, right?”
“Yes, we’ve talked about that…”
“...so would it be ok if I went instead of you?”
Aaron didn’t have time to answer; Eric chimed in a delighted “Yes! Aaron says yes! Oh shut up, you would’ve said yes anyway…”
“Did you already talk to Daryl?” asked Aaron.
“Well, I got the idea just a second ago, and he’s already left, so I thought I’d ask you first.”
“I’m sure it’s ok for him,” said Eric. “Thanks for this, I’ve got to admit I’m always nervous when Aaron’s outside. Even with Daryl, and that’s saying something. Probably nothing would take that guy down but even so...”
“No biggie, Aaron deserves this well enough, and I’d kinda like to go outside again. It’s been a while, just an ordinary gig.”
“Thanks man. Have fun out there!” Aaron smiled. Eric winked, which was a bit odd. Oh well.
All in all, that was inconclusive, Rick thought. Eric barged in to answer every question on Aaron’s behalf which could mean something except it probably doesn’t since those two tend to do that with each other. And Aaron really didn’t seem to mind, not going.
Rick waved good night, called out to Carl “no more than an hour!”, and walked to their house.
Home. House. Still not quite sure which. He trudged upstairs, tired all of a sudden. When he reached Daryl’s room -- just opposite his own -- he stopped for a moment. Even raised his hand, prepared to knock. To talk about tomorrow’s plans right away.
His hand refused to knock. He would’ve wanted to but his arm simply did not agree with him. Rick held his breath for a moment. The silence inside Daryl’s room was absolute. It was so determinedly quiet that it had to mean Daryl was in there, alone, and wanted to stay that way without having to actually say it.
Ok then.
What a weird evening.
Rick didn’t sleep very well. He didn’t remember any dreams in the morning, except that for once they hadn’t included any walkers.