Daryl's Angel: Saviour (Book Two)

Chapter 18: Expectations

After a good, long walk and plenty of conversation, I return to the house feeling more socially drained than I have in a while. Tomorrow, we'll be starting our jobs, and I'll be off to the infirmary.

Daryl isn't on the porch, and for a second, my heartbeat races, speeding me into the house only to find him curled on his spot on the floor, head propped on his arm, eyes closed. He jolts awake when he hears the door, hand flying to his knife.

"It's just me," I say, holding my hands up.

He lets out a long groan and rolls onto his back. He still hasn't showered. I wonder what the clothes-washing situation is here and if I could get him out of his for long enough to get them clean. I move to him as he sits up, rubbing his eyes.

"Good walk?" he asks.

"Yeah. Elliot's nice," I say.

As true as that is, I don't want to talk about Elliot. The house is empty and we finally have some alone time. Maybe I can coax him into the shower with me so we can talk, spend some time together.

"Want to shower with me?" I ask.

He raises an eyebrow. "You showered yesterday."

"Yeah...but you didn't."

His eyes flit over me, but he shrugs and picks at the dirt under his nails. "Nah, I'm good."

I sigh. "Daryl..."

"What?"

I stop myself before the words can escape, left with my lips parted. I close my mouth. The last thing he needs is for me to pester him about changing his appearance, even if it's just about getting clean. He must be uncomfortable, tucked away in this giant house in a neighbourhood that's as foreign to him as another country.

"I'm sorry," I murmur. "Forget it."

Again, his gaze darts over me. The front door opens, and Rick and Michonne come in. So much for having alone time.

Oh, well. I've kept it all in for this long. I can keep going.

----------

"Hey, Rick?"

It's evening and everyone's getting ready for bed. Rick's in the kitchen getting some food ready for Judith. I linger on the opposite side of the granite island in the middle of the kitchen, fingers tapping. He glances up at me.

"I had a long talk with Elliot," I start. "He...he said some things."

He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? Like what?"

"He said that these people are good, but they don't know what it's like out there. They're sheltered," I say. He purses his lips. "But I'm sure you noticed that too."

"They're weak," he says.

I exhale. "Yeah. But...they don't have to be, right?"

He nods. "We'll handle it."

That isn't comforting. Rick's methods of handling things as of late are far more violent than I would like, and although we haven't been here long, I want to believe in this community. I like Elliot. Deanna seems intelligent enough. As for the others...well, I haven't seen much of them, but it reminds me of how I was at the start.

I didn't know anything. I couldn't hunt, couldn't fight, I didn't even know how to down a walker, but I learned. So can they.

I wander back to the living room and lie down in my designated spot on the hardwood floor. I'm anxious for tomorrow. I should have asked Elliot about my job, but it never came up during our walk, and now I'm kicking myself for not thinking of it.