Catch Fire | Daryl Dixon

WAR DRUMS

I woke up to the sensation of someone gently patting my leg. Slowly, I opened my eyes, blinking against the soft light of the rising sun. As my vision cleared, I realized I was leaning against Daryl, his shoulder the unexpected pillow I'd used throughout the night. Embarrassment rushed over me as I quickly pulled away, fully comprehending the situation. I had not only fallen asleep outside but had spent the night resting against him.

"Sorry," I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat up.

Daryl just shrugged, his expression as unreadable as always.

I stretched my neck, wincing at the stiffness from having slept in the same position all night. Despite the discomfort, I couldn't deny that it was the best sleep I'd had in months. My body felt a bit more rested, and my mind slightly clearer.

"Guess my shoulder didn't compare to that bed you were goin' on about," Daryl remarked with a smirk, noticing me rubbing my neck.

I managed a small laugh. "Sorry again. Did you get any sleep?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Someone needed to keep watch anyway."

"Thanks," I said, genuinely grateful. His presence had given me the sense of security I desperately needed.

Daryl stood up, stretching his limbs. "We should head inside," he said.

I nodded, slowly getting to my feet and following him into the cellblock. As we entered, Rick was sitting at the bottom of the stairs, feeding Judith a bottle. He looked up, his gaze shifting between the two of us with a raised eyebrow. My stomach twisted with a new wave of embarrassment.

Even though nothing had happened, I felt a flush creep up my neck. I hoped Rick wouldn't say anything to anyone else, especially not to Carol or Maggie. They already had enough ammunition to tease me with; this would just add fuel to the fire.

"We were keeping watch," Daryl stated flatly, immediately shutting down whatever ideas Rick might have been entertaining.

I shot Daryl a grateful look. It wasn't a complete lie; he had kept watch.

Despite Daryl's explanation, Rick smirked and nodded his head, a playful look in his eyes. Daryl and I shared an awkward glance, both aware of what Rick was probably thinking.

Hershel, as if heaven-sent, suddenly appeared from his cell. "Mornin'," he greeted, looking between the three of us, oblivious to the underlying tension.

Rick glanced at Hershel and then at Daryl. "I need to talk to both of you."

"Roger that." I saluted, taking the hint. I slipped away into the dining area, hoping to find something to eat.

I ignored Merle as I passed him, his presence a constant source of irritation, and headed to where the group kept their food supplies.

Bending over, I began sorting through a box of packaged snacks. The sound of Merle's chuckling behind me made me tense. Glancing back, I saw him staring at me, his eyes lingering too long. I groaned inwardly, dropping to the floor beside the box so he couldn't continue his leering.

Merle, ever the provocateur, couldn't resist making a comment. "You know, darlin', if you want me to come to your cell, all ya gotta do is ask."

I rolled my eyes, refusing to engage with him. I pulled out a bag of salted peanuts from the box, trying to focus on anything other than Merle's inappropriate behavior. But he wasn't done yet.

"Once you're done nibbling on those, I've got some hot salty nuts you'll really like," he commented, licking his lips as I stared at him in disgust. I tossed the bag back into the box.