my tears ricochet

Chapter Sixty Eight

By the time he finished Carl and Judith were sitting on the lawn next to Carol. "She's gonna needs clothes," Beth suddenly said, looking at him. "For after."

Daryl squinted. "You offering?"

"Yeah."

Ivy's house key was still in the bowl next to the front door. Daryl pulled his out of his pocket and gave it to Beth. The master key was tucked somewhere safe with his things that not even Ivy knew about. "I'll go with you," Michonne offered, stretching her arms out to work the stiffness out. "Take a bit of a walk. We'll be back."

The two took off and it was a strange world, watching the pair slip down the street like it was ordinary, flower beds growing alongside manicured lawns and every window stretched wide open for the wind. Michonne wasn't even carrying her sword anymore. Last Daryl had seen it had been pinned to the wall like a piece of decoration; a tribute to the life Michonne had lived.

He hoped, for her sake, that it could stay there. "Eugene's been helping out," Rosita said suddenly. Her hair had been yanked back into a bun but a few pieces fell out. "Everyone who needs help, he's the guy there. For saying he was useless, Eugene sure can weed out a garden bed. Said he would take a look at the solar panels later."

Abraham didn't look at her. "Wasn't much use to Anthony. Remember Stella? Isaiah? Bet they could've used some help."

She hummed. "Eugene is useless. But he's trying to be useful now."

"Man would've watched you die for him. You know that."

"I do," Rosita said, mouth twisting into a hard smile. "But I bet you he would have felt bad about it."

Gabriel slowly came towards their group, hesitant along the edges. "I only just heard. Someone mentioned the ambulance..."

Rick wasn't there. Daryl counted their people and Rick wasn't there. Eugene had stayed away but that was possibly a method of preserving his life a little bit longer than sitting himself down beside Abraham for a few hours. Sasha patted the porch step beside her and let him sit down, passing over some of the left over food options Carol had brought.

Minutes crept by. Shadows grew darker and deeper, colouring the lawns plum to match indigo skies. Abraham held up the last cigarette in silent offering and Daryl shook his head. "Save it," he said bluntly. If Ivy died, he would save it for when he was finished his work. One last bit of smoke before he took a bullet to his skull.

The man quietly put the cigarette back into the carton and gave it to Daryl to hold onto. He wanted his daughter back. He wanted to listen to her rattle around the apartment oblivious to the sound she made just getting the coffee machine going. He wanted her doing the questionable activities that made his heart falter in his chest just from watching her.

His life could be ending. His entire world could be ending; cut open and bleeding out. And Daryl felt so low.

But the door swung open. Bob stepped out and had his hand lifted, smile clear as day even from the distance between them and him. "Hey, look at that," Maggie said smugly, lacing her arm through Glenn's. "Guess we waited out here for nothing."

Bob wouldn't smile for nothing. He wouldn't be smiling if the news wasn't good.

Daryl pulled himself back to his feet and took off, hope held loosely in his hands. "Is she alive?" He asked because he had to know, had to sooth the ragged edges of his patience.

"Yeah, she is. Your kid is just sleeping for a bit," Bob informed him kindly. "Back in the bed she was in. Wanna go in?"

He didn't need permission. Daryl surged through the hallway and into that room he had become so intimately aware of -window left open slightly, walls painted eggshell white, wooden chairs scattered everywhere- and found his daughter again. Without looking away from her face he grabbed a chair and dragged it close, sitting down and taking her hand in his so he could feel her pulse. "When she gonna wake up?"