broken claims

Part 27

"Howdy, neighbour."

Daryl passively ignored Aaron as he strode across the yard from the one house to the one he was currently assigned, tentatively bunking with Abraham, Rosita, Tara, Carol and Leigh. Rick had pulled everyone, though, into the main house for the night, awkwardly bunking out across the living room in the world's most uncomfortable sleepover. He spent the entire night awake and sitting up against the window, unwilling to chance closing his eyes and sleeping blind to a risk.

Sunlight bathed the neighbourhood and it was like being in another world. Leigh already vanished into the house on Rosita's heels, scrubbing the grit from her eyes.

"I thought you'd like some of the fruit. We got apple trees growing close to here," Aaron tried again, speaking slightly louder like Daryl hadn't been listening. He held a small basket of apples. "Eric said it's a good batch this year."

His mouth curled up into a tired sneer. "You handing out million dollar homes and apples to strangers? Some kind of 'drink the Kool-Aid' bullshit?"

"Doesn't being on first name basis negate being strangers?"

Carol breezed up to his side with a sunny smile. "You always get up this early?" She asked Aaron, charming and delightful, plastic as any of the dolls Leigh used to play with as a kid.

"Eric sent me out with this."

"Oh! That's nice. Isn't that nice, Daryl?"

Daryl plucked one apple from the basket Aaron was holding and freed himself from Carol's grasp, slipping into the house. His crossbow dropped to the floor by the door and he wandered into the kitchen, half listening to Aaron and Carol talking by the step. "Leigh!" He shouted, wasting no time as he cut into the kitchen, yanking a clean knife to start working at the apple into decent slices. And, as he remembered, Daryl grabbed the jar of peanut butter from the cabinet and scooped some out on to the plate. Easy protein to work with when meat wasn't cutting it. "Leigh, I ain't calling you three times."

She clattered down the stairs loudly and spun into the kitchen. "What?"

"Gotta eat. Try this, yeah?"

Leigh took the offering willingly to the table and he stayed in the background, awkwardly hovering as he watched her eat. Some of the tension left his own body at the sight of it. "I can feel your stare," she pointed out. "Want some?"

"Nah."

"You should eat."

"Let me worry about you. That's my job, not yours."

"What? I can't worry about you?" Leigh asked, fidgeting. "That isn't fair."

It wasn't fair watching his daughter hit the ground because her body was so starved for basic nutrition. Daryl held his tongue, though, gently rapping his knuckles against the counter to remind her to keep eating.

Tara kicked her shoes off at the door and ambled over to the couch with a blanket tucked beneath her arm. "Did you get any sleep? I think Michonne kicked my spine crooked. It'll never be the same again."

Michonne had a habit of being a restless sleeper. Daryl was familiar with that and always shuffled himself opposite to her when they set up camp, bruised enough already from her elbow driving into his side. It was safer to let Rick take the violence.

"Rick wants us over again," Abraham said. "Bunk away from the woman with the sword and you'll come out for the better of it."

"Think it's necessary? How long are we going to keep sleeping on the floor when we've all got decent beds."

"Better they stumble on the whole group instead of just one or two of us at a time."

Tara popped her head up over the couch to direct her attention on Daryl. "When are you booked to see that doctor?"