Certainty of safety

Chapter 1

He stared at the small wooden man as he twiddled it around in his hands. Daryl sighed and shoved the carving in his pocket, replacing it with a lighter and cigarette. Blowing the smoke out his mouth he leaned back on Rick's front porch. Well, it was his front porch too he guessed, it had just been awhile since he's properly lived here.

Daryl looked up and down the neighborhood, and grunted to himself. The sun was setting on a messy Alexandria. After their battle with the Saviors and the traitors from the junkyard just hours before, the place was bit disheveled. He watched people from Alexandria and other neighboring communities who helped out rush all around, offering food, water, and first aid. Before Sasha's funeral Rick had ordered people to starting doing some repairs before their enemies returned for round two, but Daryl had decided he needed a break. He felt such a range of emotions after all that had happened today, nothing really quite setting in.

Watching people work he recognized a familiar long haired, trench coat wearing man. He thought back to him and Jesus' conversation at oceanside just days ago. He told the man how he had faith Sasha would make it back okay. He knew Jesus and Sasha had grown close at hilltop, Maggie too. Now knowing he and Maggie had been the ones to put her down, Daryl felt bad, but knew it was better that they were the ones who found her.

Jesus seemed to notice Daryl staring and made eye contact with the man. There was a split second, a moment where Jesus let his Holy mask down, showing the pain and sorrow that hid behind it. Daryl knew the feeling of hiding, but the two men had completely different masks.
And then it was gone, Jesus shifted back and smiled at the older man and nodded his head, Daryl nodding back. Jesus turned back around and continued his work

After a while Daryl stubbed out his cigarette and flicked it in the grass. He got up and headed back to work, so he wouldn't have to think about the death of one of his family members. Daryl was good at that, avoiding things. He simply pushed them and repressed them, squeezed the feelings he didn't want to feel into the back of his head. He didn't have time to mourn right now,Daryl thought, he needed to be here for his family.

People mostly left him alone the rest of the day (thankfully). Everyone was nice, and worked together, but it still felt as if everyone was walking on eggshells. No one knew when Negan and the others would return, but they were bound to.

It started to get dark out and daryl decided it was time to head to bed, but wanted to visit the infirmary before he did. Rick sat with his hand intertwined with a sleeping Michonne's, Tara fast asleep next a likewise Rosita.

"Daryl." Rick's voice was hushed, and he gave Daryl that painful smile he usually gave after things went wrong. "How are you brother?" Daryl took a seat in a chair against the wall next to Rick.

"M'fine. Jus came to check on the girls before headin off." He chewed his thumb.

"How are you really doing Daryl?" Rick looked at him intensely. Daryl's eyes fell to the floor for a moment, and landed back up on Rick's hand intertwined with Michonne's. He knew Rick had all good intentions, and wanted to make sure if he was alright, but Daryl didn't feel the need to be telling Rick, or anyone, his feelings about what he's faced in the last, what? Month or so? It also hit Daryl that he hadn't been paying attention of the time between the recent events. He looked back up at his friend, hiding behind his shaggy hair.

"As good as i can be right now, y'know." Daryl knew the man sitting across from him wouldn't believe him, simply because Daryl knew it wasn't true, but he also knew Rick would not push any further. Rick simply nodded his head and looked back at Michonne.

"Can you watch out for Maggie, I know Sasha was," He paused, " real important to her, and right now with all this going on, and after Glenn im worried she won't give herself a break. Jesus told me how hard she worked at Hilltop before and i don't want her to overwork herself here, especially since we don't know when Negan will be back."

Daryl grunted.

"I know she's got Jesus too but just like Maggie his fatal flaw is workin too damn hard." Rick chuckled breathily.

"Yeah. I got her."

The two sat in silence for much time before Daryl left.
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Daryl trudged along in the dark and thought back to when they first got to Alexandria, how everyone slept in the same house. Then into two different homes, and now most of them spent their time in other communities.

He soon arrived at his shared house and walked up the porch steps, setting his crossbow down outside the front door. He slowly opened and shut the door so he didn't wake Judith, or anyone else who crashed there for the night. Maggie slept soundly on the sofa, sitting upright, like she had fallen asleep while watching tv or something. A blanket lay across her lap. Daryl sighed and kicked his boots off, he wished she had a least made it to one of the spare bedrooms, would have been more comfortable. But at least she was sleeping.

Daryl scooted his way through the dark house silently, floor boards creaking under his feet. He headed to the kitchen to get some water before going up to his room in the attic. Upon entering the kitchen he spotted a sleeping Jesus, who had fallen asleep at the kitchen counter, head buried in his arms. Daryl smirked and went over to the sink and turning on the water, leaning his head down to drink from the flow.

"You could just get a cup." Jesus sniffled. Daryl lurched his head forward out of surprise, getting water up his nose and some of his hair wet. He stood upright and wiped his face off.

"Wh-" Daryl started to gripe angrily before Jesus put his finger to his lips.

"What the hell Paul thought ya was sleepin." He said more quietly, but still just as mad. Even in the dark he could tell the younger man had been crying, not sleeping.

"I, uh yeah, i just kinda dozed off," He lied, "I didn't know where to stay since maggie didn't feel like going back in the house her and, uh Glenn lived in next door and she figured no one would mind her staying here, and she just kinda fell asleep and i felt weird just taking one of the spare rooms. I know there's quite a few of you who live here and i didn-" Daryl noticed Jesus was avoiding the strong eye contact he usually held when talking to others, and since he was blabbering on he cut him off.

"shut up, there's a room upstairs next to the master bedroom, ya already know where that is, you can sleep there." Daryl grumbled.

"Thanks but for now i think i'll just join maggie on the couch." he wiped his nose with his sleeve and adjusted in his chair. "How come you always call me Paul and not Jesus?" He furrowed his brow.

"Cause Jesus sounds dumb. There's a bathroom down the hall from the stairs, you can y'know, wash your face n stuff." And with that Daryl made his way up to his room.

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The attic wasn't luxurious was Daryl was glad. He didn't need a fancy bedroom, a mattress on the floor and a blanket was fine by him. Sleeping in a normal bedroom felt so foreign, and even now as he lay and stare out the big attic window, he felt out of place. The window was why he liked it so much though. It let in the moonlight and was angled to look over the community's wall.

He couldn't get the image of the puffy eyed, sniffly man down in the kitchen. There was no shame in crying, but Daryl could never be able to be so open and comfortable with crying. Paul was nice, and good to Maggie. He and the bearded man had become a good team over the last few days, Paul slowly beginning to feel like family.

Of course he still found the man to be such pain in the ass most times. He just about talked Daryl's ear off about god knows what as they set up the explosives in the truck, and at Oceanside. But maybe that was the way he coped, just like Daryl's coping mechanism is to never talk.

Daryl laid on his back and continued to look at the sky for what felt like hours. The repression of his feelings from the day didn't last long and what he tried to forget suddenly came flooding back. Another aching hole left in his chest. He thought about Sasha, and reflected on the time they had spent together. She was such a trooper, ever since the prison. The image of her barging out of the coffin as a walker, flashed before his eyes. Even undead she was still fighting. So he decided to just let it out, because there was no shame in crying.