𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 | Daryl Dixon

25 | BEHIND BARS

"Home sweet home," Glenn mumbled as he trapesed into the cell block with Maggie, bags thrown over his shoulders.

The group had woken up bright and early that morning, ready to clear out the courtyard to gain access to the prison. Daryl, Tori, Rick, Maggie, Glenn, and T-Dog had grouped up and taken out every walker in the area, locking the remaining herd into a fenced-off space. Walkers also resided inside the cellblocks. They managed to seal off one of them – Cell Block C – which is where they were now setting up as their main base.

"For the time being," Rick added to Glenn's comment.

"It's secure?" Lori asked as she entered.

"This cell block is," her husband replied. He explained that they'd check out the other blocks the next morning, along with finding facilities like the kitchen and infirmary.

"We sleep in the cells?" Beth questioned, her light voice echoing off the high cement walls.

"Found the keys on some of the guards," Rick said with a nod. "I have one set, Daryl has the other."

"I ain't sleepin' in no cage," the Dixon grumbled, grabbing his crossbow and back from the ground. "I'll take the perch."

Tori watched him go up the metal stairs and dump his stuff on the ground. As everyone else went off to find their own places to rest up in, Tori's feet carried her upstairs too, her legs aching with exhaustion. The nights of sleeping on the ground had not been kind to her body. These days, she always had some kind of back pain, headache, or just generally achiness going on.

Reaching the top of the stairs, she found Daryl had already created his set-up for the remainder of the day and night to come. He'd pulled a mattress from one of the cells to lay out on the ground, using his poncho as a bedsheet, and a folded-up jacket as a pillow. He lay on his back with his hand tucked under his head while he looked at the ceiling. Only when he heard Tori's footsteps did he avert his gaze from the boring grey paintwork, instead meeting the amazing blue of the brunette's eyes.

"Made yourself at home, I see," Tori mused, the weight of her bag pulling at her elbow. "You're really not taking a cell?"

"I don't mind the floor," Daryl mumbled. "Rather this than sleep behind bars."

"You wouldn't be behind bars, Daryl," Tori replied. "Just keep the door open. You know, there are actual beds."

"Don't think I've slept on an actual bed in years," Daryl shrugged. "Ain't kiddin'."

Tori looked down at the man with a shake of her head, her lips pressed to a thin line. She had looked forward to resting in a proper bed, not caring that it was in a prison cell, shrouded with the darkness that came from the lack of windows and damp-smelling cement walls.

She originally figured she'd take the cell nearest to where Daryl was, but something clicked in her mind, a little voice telling her to stay with him. The mere thought made her smile to herself.

Wordless and silent, Tori went into the nearby cell. Daryl glanced her way, watching her go with a small ounce of disappointment that she was leaving. He understood why – they'd been sleeping rough for the best part of a year, and there was a chance to break that habit. He was used to this kind of slumming it, so he felt better where he was. He couldn't expect Tori to be the same.

His disappointment soon morphed into surprise though, when the brunette emerged from the cell moments later, dragging a mattress from one of the bunks with her. She placed it down next to where Daryl's was, crouching to open her drawstring rucksack, pulling out a spare flannel to use as a pillow.

"T, you don't gotta," Daryl said as he sat up, feeling bad that she was moving out just for him.

She lifted her gaze to his, seeing a softness behind his eyes. It made her smile as she assured him, "I know."