First Light ➳ Daryl Dixon

10. Respite

"Little more… little more… And, you're good!"

Marshall flashes a toothy grin and gives a thumbs up at the car parked below the overpass before wiping his brow. The day's still young, and he figures if he's going to stick around the prison, he might as well start doing something a bit more productive with his spare time.

Rick already asked him to help out with this and that, but… if he's going to stay, he might as well start off with something personal. 'Course, he just needs someone else's help right now.

"Remind me again why I agreed to this," Daryl huffs out as he steps out of the car. He brings a hand to shield his eyes before looking up at Marshall.

Marshall barks out a laugh, "Oh, quit your whining." He drops to a crouch near the ledge and points lightly at the stack of wood and metal panels he'd managed to scrounge up the night before near the cell block's entrance. "Come on, pass that up for me, could you?"

Daryl mumbles something before walking over to the pile and heaving up one of the larger metal scraps, and… he gets a little distracted, Daryl isn't wearing his jacket today, just his vest. Marshall'll be damned, but hell if watching those arms flex isn't a sight to see. He can't help but bite at his lower lip while the hunter clambers onto the roof of the car. God, he really shouldn't be looking at him like that.

"Why d'ya even need all this shit?" Daryl grunts out, and his voice snaps Marshall back to attention, promptly grabbing the panel and hoisting it up.

Marshall sets it down beside him before resting his hands on his knees, "Rick wants me to work on 'fortifying' the prison."

"Fortify?" Daryl squints at him, "The hell d'you know about fortifyin'?"

"Ouch," Marshall jokes, pretending to have been shot through the heart, earning him a mumbled 'jackass' from Daryl. "I'm no engineer, but I was about to be a licensed architect before everything went down the drain. Used to be that I figured I'd be coming up with plans and designs for modern lake houses." Marshall shrugs lightly at that before glancing down at Daryl, "Now I've got Rick asking me to find ways to make sure the prison stands."

"How is this fortifyin'?" Daryl asks before stepping down to grab the next item. He's trying to hide it, but Marshall can tell he's a little curious.

"It's not." Daryl frowns at that before passing up the panel, "Not really." Marshall places it on top of the other before laughing, "I figured, if I'm going to be working on everything, I might as well start with something a little personal."

"Yeah? This about yesterday?"

Marshall nods, "You got it. I figured I'd start off with making a little, uh… nest, I guess." He shrugs and flashes Daryl a small grin, "You know, a little spot reserved for me." He peers down at Daryl, hoping to find some sort of curiosity or something in those slate blue eyes but… there's something completely different shining in them. It's not curiosity. Hell, it's not even irritation.

"Mm." Daryl mumbles out, breaking eye contact. Marshall frowns a bit but says nothing. He didn't do anything wrong, did he?

"Hey," He calls out, drawing the other man's tentative gaze. He gives him a small smile before pointing at the rest of the pile with his chin, "There's still some more to go."

"Right." Daryl chews at his thumbnail before hopping back down and getting the next panel.

They're quiet for the next few seconds while Daryl passes up the wood and metal for Marshall to stack on top of the little bridge. He scratches at the back of his neck when Daryl goes to grab the last wood plank. A realization dawns on him, and it stirs in his chest. He doesn't want him to run off on him again. The last time…