Self Inflicted

33

A clean-shaven Rick Grimes, haircut and all, walks out from down the hall into the living room. He looks good, exhausted, but good. He is walking past me, and I pipe up. 

"Wow, Mr. Grimes, I'm impressed." He shoots me a tired and sarcastic look. A knock on the door stops him, and he peers around the room to check if all of us are in here. We are, so he turns and carefully opens the door to a surprised-looking Deanna. 

"Wow," the handsome man groans. "I didn't know what was under there." She pauses and then continues, "Listen, I don't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were all settling."

She peeks into the living room and glances at everyone. Blankets are on the floor, and people lie next to each other in tight spaces. "Oh, my. Staying together. Smart."

"No one said we couldn't." The way he speaks to her you can just feel the tension in his voice.

"You said you're family. That's what you said. Absolutely amazing to me how people with completely different backgrounds and nothing in common can become that. Don't you think?"

"Everybody said you gave them jobs." He says it so plainly and matter of fact. She never gave me a job. Daryl didn't say if he has one. 

"Mm-hmm. Yeah. Part of this place. Looks like the communists won after all."

"Well, you didn't give me one."

"I have. I just haven't told you yet. Same with Michonne. I'm closing in on ones for Sasha and Luna. And I'm just trying to figure Mr. Dixon out, but I will." 

I cut out my listening when their voices got quieter and everyone else began talking amongst themselves. Maggie and Glenn are shacked up on the floor together, same with many others. Daryl stands back against the living room wall furthest from the door. I walk up and join beside him. 

"So we get jobs here?" I start the conversation, I'm curious what he has to say. 

"They ain't sticking me somewhere I don't wanna be," Dixon grumbles and I nod my head slowly. I'm curious what she has in mind for me, she's still figuring it out she claims. 

"I'm surprised they don't stick me in the clinic with their surgeon. I'd rather be out there helping, but I get that medicine is an important thing now." He grumbles a 'yeah.' 

"You tell me if any of their people do anything to you." 

"Daryl, I can handle myself." He nods slowly. "Where are you sleeping?" 

"I'm not."

"Rick will be up all night, you need to rest." 

"Ain't no room out here," he gestures forward to the overcrowded living room. 

"So let's take a bedroom," I suggest and he shoots me a strange look. "Don't pretend that if I slept out here all by myself, you wouldn't keep an eye on me the whole night." He pauses for a second but walks down the hallway and I follow after him, up the stairs and to the bedroom we spoke in earlier. The bed is made with white sheets and extra blankets sitting at the foot of it. Daryl plops down on the side closest to the door, pulling his arm up and setting his head in his hand. 

I laugh looking at the dirtiest man I know laying on these perfectly white sheets. "What?" 

"You're going to ruin these sheets," I chuckle, earning a 'shut up.'

I take my boots off and leave them next to the closed door. Walking across the room and to the opposite side of the bed as him, I climb in and turn towards him. His arm is next to me is at his side so I grab it with mine and pull it towards me. I look down and see that he still has his mud-caked boots on in the bed.