my tears ricochet

Chapter Thirty Seven

DAY 19

"You've got a shadow," Glenn said, dumping a bottle of water over his hands to help scrub off the oil. "Ivy hasn't gone away all morning."

Daryl flicked the remains of his cigarette to the ground and forced himself not to turn around. He had felt her stare all morning even though she flipped the pages of a book dutifully, avoiding his gaze instinctively whenever he did look her way. "She's hangin' around for the day."

Ivy hadn't said much since coming down from her tower, sitting beside him at breakfast and scrambling for her romance novel whenever the conversation took a sharp turn where she didn't like it.

It was progress. He could handle it. A lifetime of learning the forest had taught him the shape of hunting; fear and flight, how remorseless the aftermath could be. Ivy needed time and they finally had it in spades.

"How's she doing?" Glenn asked, dropping his voice a fraction. He leaned against the car he had just finished looking over. "Maggie says her light is always on at night. Doesn't look like she's sleeping much more."

"She's fine," he parroted Ivy's words with a bit of heat. "She'll drop when she can't stay up any longer."

"We found some sleeping pills on the last run. Hershel and Doctor S. have them stashed with the rest of the bottled meds."

Daryl knew instinctively that offering her pills to sleep would turn into a brand new fight. He shook his head, frowning. "Nah. See if she comes through it on her own first."

He had been angry the other night, pushing at her until she snapped back, keeping her from running back into her isolation. Hershel had explained to him the scene he witnessed in the courtyard and it had been luck that Ivy was sneaking through the cellblock, close enough he had a chance of catching her. Ivy might not want to speak to him but she wasn't playing at avoidance and he didn't want to land back in square one again/

"You okay?"

"What?"

"Are you doing okay?" Glenn asked, repeating himself. The hot sun drenched the little lot they were set up in, surrounded by abandoned cars and a grey prison bus. "You know, with everything."

Daryl grunted, inhaling the lingering cigarette smoke. "I'm fine."

If his daughter was spinning out from the things that had been done to her in the past, he was dangerously close to spinning out over the things that hadn't happened yet. Michonne was the one combing the miles between them and the unknown to search for the Governor to settle old debts and Daryl kept a tight guard of the prison. He couldn't stand the thought of leaving any further than a few miles when danger could creep up in his absence.

He checked over his shoulder and saw Ivy fix her attention to the book in her hands. If Ivy wanted to hang around in his shadow, he wasn't going to stop her. It was a comfort knowing he could turn around and know exactly where she was.

'I want to die, I want to disappear.'

"I'm fine," he muttered again, forcing the words to sound honest to his own ears, delicate little falsehoods sewn into a wish.

DAY 20

The discovery of spices had revamped the cooking entirely, offering up flavour instead of bland dishes best served quickly. Carol and a few women had cobbled together a mix of canned goods and fresh meat, generously adding chilli powder and cumin until the air carried the scent of heat all the way to the tables.

Their group had claimed a table for themselves like a shadow of old meals once spent in seclusion. The courtyard was a thousand miles from hunger and cold scraps divided between the many and Daryl let the warmth of it into his bones, preserving the moment while he could.