In Good Hands

Taken Care Of

Note: I wasn't originally going to continue this story, but I had a couple ask if I was going to and I couldn't resist writing this second chapter.

It was late and the house was quiet. Daryl had returned to the house with Aaron and Eric earlier that day after spending the night in the clinic. He never thought he'd be thankful to be in one of these houses.

Aaron and Eric had gone up to bed a couple hours ago while Daryl slept on the couch, unable to manage the stairs with his leg.

The quiet of the house was broken as Daryl started to moan and move restlessly. He shot up suddenly, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. However, that pain was nothing to the feeling of nausea rising within him. He swung his legs off the couch, hoping to make his way to the bathroom, but as soon as his bad leg hit the floor he fell forward with a gasp.

Daryl hit the floor, pain shooting up his leg, and he was unable to hold back the nausea that had overwhelmed him now. He groaned pitifully as he was sick all over the floor and himself.

"Daryl!"

He felt hands on his back, lifting him back into the couch.

"Aaron, get him a new shirt," Eric said, "Some towels too."

"S-S-Sorry," Daryl stammered through his chattering teeth.

"Hush," Eric said, "You have nothing to apologize for."

"T-Tried ta get ta the b-bathroom," Daryl said, "But m-my leg..."

"Daryl, it's alright," Eric said as Aaron came back into the room. "Here, Aaron's got a new shirt for you." He made to help Daryl get his off, but Daryl flinched away.

"Daryl, you need to get this one off," Eric said, "You're shivering and it's covered in... sweat."

I-I-I can't," Daryl stammered. This thing with Aaron and Eric was still new and Daryl had spent a lot of time wondering when he was going to do something that would screw it all up. There's no way they would want him to stay if they saw his scars.

"Daryl," Aaron said gently, "Whatever it is, it's okay."

He looked between them and finally nodded. He was cold and just really didn't have the energy to fight anymore.

They helped him the shirt off and Daryl ducked his head, waiting. Instead of them being disgusted like he thought they would, he felt Aaron press a kiss to shoulder while Eric did the same to his forehead.

He looked up in surprise.

"It's okay Daryl," Eric said gently and they passed him the clean shirt which he quickly put on, trying to stave off the shivers wracking his body. "Lie down."

Daryl did so, accepting the blanket Aaron handed him and pulling it over himself.

Eric began unwrapping the bandages around Daryl's leg and visibly winched, looking at Aaron.

"Daryl, it looks like your leg is infected. I'm going to go get Pete," Aaron said, "I'll be right back."

Aaron ran out of the house while Eric went into the kitchen and wet a cloth. He came back and placed it on Daryl's forehead. Daryl groaned.

"You okay?" Eric asked and Daryl shook his head, sitting up slightly as his face took on a green tint.

Eric gasped and looked around for something, but it was too late. Daryl had already leaned over the side of the couch.

"Sorry," he grunted.

"It's alright," Eric said as he crinkled his nose in disgust. "Just try to relax."