Spiced Molasses

Chapter 16

Daryl was feeling equal parts groggy and shady. Almost a week had passed since he'd been stabbed and he'd spent much of it asleep. The combination of pain medication and antibiotics had laid him out for a few days and if he got it into his mind to skirt dosages, he had Sergeant Beth coming down on him. If anyone was taking his recovery seriously, it was Beth and she had taken to looking after him with the same obsessive energy she had researched the Governor and baked. In fact, now he missed the baking. He was quickly being divested of the delusion that he had any power in his own house these days.

Daryl wasn't used to being cooped up day in day out, even if he knew it was in his best interests. It was starting to drive him a little bit insane. It had even resulted in a whispered conversation to Martinez.

"You want what now?"

"Rescue me! Break me out!"

"The authorities got you?"

"Worse. My girlfriend."

Daryl had hung up after Martinez had laughed for a full two minutes straight. He knew he was being stupid but confinement brought out his worst characteristics, impatience and childishness.

Martinez had sent him a text, obviously after he'd ceased being wracked with the giggles. You got STABBED! Take some time. Karen sends her love. He had sighed and thrown his phone on the bedside table.

He knew the only reason Beth was being so diligent was because of Doctor S and his comments. And because she cared. Inexplicably, through no concerted effort on his part, Beth seemed to actually give a shit if he lived or died. He hated it. He wasn't used to it.

His stomach grumbled and checking his alarm clock revealed that it was about seven. In the evening. He'd wasted another day napping. The only plus of the situation was him getting his bed back. But even that came with strings. He spent a lot of time dozing but never really reaching a deep sleep. Maybe it was the medication but the dreams he'd been having were just a bit weird. That and his bed now smelt like woman. Following his uncomfortable moment with her the day after he'd taken a blade to his gut, smelling Beth every time he'd turn in his bed was not conducive to rest.

With a groan, he levered his way out of the bed. Beth was lying on the couch watching a movie.

"There's food in the microwave," she said guessing what he was looking for without him having to say it.

He found a bowl of homemade stir fry ensconced in the microwave. Daryl knew it would be delicious. Everything Beth made was and it was one of the perks of having her in his home. He would never go hungry again.

Beth rearranged herself on the lounge when he returned with his now steaming dinner. She slid her legs out of the way as Daryl slumped onto the couch. Directing his attention at the movie that had so effectively captured Beth's, he realised with a groan that it was one of those soppy romances that girls seemed to love. Beth at the very least was watching it raptly.

"What is this shit?" he bemoaned. Beth pulled herself into something resembling a sitting position.

"It's not shit," she argued without actually answering his question.

"Beg to differ," he replied with a mouthful of food. It was delectable and he was practically inhaling it.

"You sound like my brother," she informed him trying to keep one eye on what was unfolding on the screen and one eye on him.

"He sounds sensible," Daryl said wryly, noting but not commenting on the easy way she mentioned her family. It was becoming less of a trigger as time went by.