Daryl's Angel (10th Anniversary Edition)

Chapter 18: Long Way Down

Daryl leaves the farmhouse, crossbow on his shoulder. He's only made it a few feet away when he hears someone call out to him.

"Daryl."

He turns as Rick jogs up to him, stopping a foot or so away from him.

"How's Hope doing?" Rick asks. "Hershel was looking for her."

"Tuckered herself out. Wouldn't be surprised if she slept the rest of the day or more," Daryl replies. He leans onto one leg. "You need something?"

Rick's mouth forms a thin line, hands on his hips. "We've got a base. We can get this search properly organized now."

"You got a point or are we just chatting?"

"My point...is it lets you off the hook. You don't owe us anything."

Daryl's eyes narrow before he turns on his heel. "My other plans fell through," he calls.

He allows himself to wonder what Merle would think of all this as he goes back to his tent. They had a plan before Atlanta happened, and it churns Daryl's stomach to think of it.

Hope's backpack is still sitting by her chair, left open. He stares at it for a second and with a sigh, he walks off to where they left the cars and comes back with Hope's camping stuff, getting to work setting up her tent next to his. She'll need a place to sleep once she's gotten better.

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I have no idea how long I sleep for. I wake up here and there for a few seconds. Most of the time it's Hershel rousing me from sleep, sometimes Patricia, changing my I.V. or dressing. I see Carl once. No sign of Daryl.

The next time I'm fully lucid, it's still light out, and I wonder if it's been hours or a day. There's a plate of food, a glass of water, and a few pills beside me and, as I reach for it, I see my Cherokee rose resting in a tiny crystal vase. It brings a smile to my face.

No guy has ever gotten me flowers before.

I finish breakfast, tidy up after myself, and venture onto the porch. Carol and Lori hang laundry on a clothesline strung between two trees. Everyone else stands gathered around the Cherokee, including Carl, rooted by his father's side while Rick points out places on the map. I notice Daryl pointing out into the distance and I guess he must be mentioning the house we found. The only person I don't see is Glenn.

The sun hangs above the treeline, so it's still early. I slept for far longer than I thought I would. I know I'm being impatient with myself, but I hate how slow-going healing is. Still, for today, I'm going to be good and stay in as much as possible. Maybe Hershel can start teaching me a few medicinal things if he isn't too busy.

I lean against the railing, arms folded, still watching. Daryl pulls a long-sleeved shirt over his tank top and it's the first time I've seen him wear anything that covers his arms. I'm almost sad about it—those biceps are pure eye candy. I keep thinking of what I'll say to him when we talk next, because I probably shouldn't mention the cheek or forehead kisses we've given each other and just act casual.

But, in reality, I'm probably going to take one look at those baby blues of his and kissing is all I'll be thinking about. Damn him for worming his way into my head so fast. My daddy issues just love him, and they've always loved men like him—men that make you go, "He's so bad for me, but I can fix him." Should I be comforted that, even after the end of the world, my taste in men is still highly questionable? Maybe. Some things never change.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

I nearly jump out of my skin, hand pressed to my chest as I turn towards Hershel. "Holy cow, you scared me half to death."