"This is the worst part about having kids," Abraham said sagely, lighting one cigarette and passing it over. "My one kid had to have her tonsils taken out when she was seven. For her, that was one big nap and getting to wake up to a week's worth of ice cream."
Despite the lightness to the man's voice, Daryl could hear the old grief packed tight to the details. A daughter, a dead daughter. She might have been seven once but she never got to grow up fully.
Ivy could die, he thought to himself. How much did Pete and Bob really know? What kind of complications came from a surgery in a converted bedroom? When did medicine expire? What if Ivy woke up in the middle of the process and panicked at the sight of two men standing over her, cutting her to save her life?
They're sitting on the steps of a porch across the street together and the cigarette Abraham hands over is the only thing keeping Daryl from storming over. He exhaled sharp and blew smoke away from the other man. "Wasn't thinking this would happen."
An appendicitis at the end of the world. Daryl hadn't had time to figure out the warning signs of a sick kid. Whatever had been happening had just slipped his attention somehow and he couldn't forgive himself for that.
Maggie, Glenn, and Beth came walking down the sidewalk together before they cut across the lawn, joining them on the steps. Glenn had taken the time to scrub some of the blood off of his skin and to change clothes and he looked less like a demon but the agitation was plain across his face. "He gonna be a problem?" Daryl asked, fixing his gaze to the smear of blood on the back of Glenn's neck that he had missed.
"Yeah," Glenn said flatly, kicking his legs out. But Maggie leaned over and ran her fingers through his hair lightly, easing some of the prickled anger burning.
"Well," Abraham sighed. "Just add the names up. Get this part over and we can play Nicky Nine Doors on those freaks."
Pete. Aiden. Nicholas. Ron. The list was growing. And whatever side Rick was on, nothing was going to stop Daryl from taking his fill of justice.
"She'll be fine," Maggie said pointedly, giving Daryl a side look. "Ivy's your kid. Give her five days and she'll be back to running around."
"Remember listening to her strolling through the gates of Terminus? Would've thought it was a grown man giving those shits the ass kicking of their lives. Kept laughing the entire time," Abraham said bluntly. Beth's face was blank but he saw the way her fingers tightened on her knees, an old unseen bruise prodded at. "Just keep on breathing."
Daryl didn't really want the thoughts of Ivy picking death circling through his mind. She had reviewed the odds and chosen self sacrifice so Beth could live just a little longer. But, he remembered those bruised knuckles. Identical to the ones she sported after Woodbury. "She always puts up a good fight," Daryl said so Beth would hear it. "First time I met her she tried to stab me."
Maggie let loose a bit of a laugh, summer bright in the evening. "Never heard that detail before. Way my daddy pictured it, you found her all alone in a Moses basket just waiting to be rescued."
"Rabid little girl," Daryl said mechanically, drawing the string of memories all the way back to the very beginning. "Was looking for Sophia in one of those abandoned houses out back and opened the door. She popped right out with her knife and tried to go for it. Afterwards, when it was settled, Ivy said it was my face that made her want to start stabbing."
They kept forcing Daryl to speak, rattling out old stories with hollowed punchlines just so silence wouldn't consume him. Abraham lit him another cigarette and he cleansed his lungs with the old practise, memory taught from Merle who first swiped a pack from their dad's private stash. Eventually more of their group filtered together; Rosita and Sasha walking up first, followed by Tyreese and Michonne. Carol came by with a basket hanging off of her arm that was full of sandwiches and jars of sweet tea. One of each was forcefully pushed into his hands, temporarily keeping him from chain smoking.
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?"
"Might be a bit. I was worried about keeping her under but she did alright. Pain's managed so take advantage of the quiet."
No, Daryl thought. He wanted the noise. He wanted the sound of her feet skipping around the apartment, to listen to her shouting through the window down to Beth on the street below. Silence wasn't what he wanted.
Part of him had been expecting a scene like the cafeteria where Rick had hacked off Hershel's leg in order to save his life, blood splattered everywhere. This room was so tidy and Ivy was clean, one single IV connected to the back of her hand. Daryl focused on running his fingers through her hair over and over again, touch as light as the breeze creeping through the window, content with the motion.
"We're going to head back," Maggie said from the doorway. Beth was peeking around the corner into the room and he saw her drop a bag to the floor quietly. "Your key's with her stuff. You good?"
"Yeah," Daryl said hoarsely. "I'm good." Ivy was breathing. She was okay. The world was still alive.
But then Pete started speaking, rupturing the peace. "He can't stay here over night. I know guys like him. Half the pills in here? They'll be gone by morning."
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Bob said, uncharacteristically hard. "You can't be serious. Don't you ever... just stop?"
"Do you know the work that goes into curating a stock like this? There isn't a pharmacy we can just pop into and resupply."
"I know I nearly died getting you this shit today," Glenn reminded him. "That guy? He's done that run before. He's the one that always stuck his neck out on the line to get what we needed to be okay."
"I'm afraid I couldn't allow it."
"Well," Daryl said. He pulled back from Ivy and took the knife from his belt. "Why don't you come over and say that to my face."
Pete looked like he was considering the option, reading Daryl's size and threat level as he compared his own to it. Pete was a bigger man with the benefit of full health. And Daryl was nearly rabid, whittled down from months of hard living on the razor sharp line of survival. "I'm asking you to leave for the night. Do you remember what visiting hours are?"
"I'll stay. I'll keep an eye on him," Bob said flatly, cocking his head to the side. "You go home and sleep real good."
"I won't-"
"Keep talking and I'll burn your house down," Beth said suddenly, voice hard as metal. It took them all by surprise and Pete spun around to look at her. "I know about you. I know all about you."
Her voice held the warning of a threat and when Pete went to speak Glenn was cutting him off, lightly shouldering her behind him. "Yeah, don't speak to her. You're done. Wanna take a walk?"
Pete yanked out two bottles of pills. "Antibiotics and for pain. Let me know if someone overdoses."
He left, slamming the door shut behind him. "Jesus Christ," Bob breathed. "I thought I'd be grateful, you know. I just wanted to be with people again. Would've settled for anyone. But then I met that prick. And I don't say this lightly, but maybe there's a benefit to being alone."
Daryl considered his list. And then he considered Beth, that hard bit of rage pressed tight to her mouth. Ivy had killed one of Joe's men by herself but Beth had done her fair share of damage to Len. His face had been a sunset of colours, painful to look at.
Something was growing unseen and Daryl would eventually pick that rock up and figure what was lurking.
But first he would wait for Ivy. He would take her home and wait until they could have it out over whatever the problem was with Ron and then he would formulate the right kind of response. A fever made Ivy less tight-lipped than usual and while she had claimed everything was fine, she had admitted that she couldn't tell him while he was angry.
Which meant something wasn't totally fine.
So Daryl would bide his time until he had all the answers and then he would clean house.
Glenn could help, he allowed himself. Abraham as well. And Rick wouldn't catch him off guard and separate him from his prey.
The clinic emptied out slowly and Bob locked the door as he left, leaving Daryl to the hollowed out space. "You did good," he told Ivy, leaning back in his chair. "Bob would've been there the whole time, keeping an eye out for anything. Just gotta sleep for a bit, you hear?"
Sleep so you wake up, Daryl thought.
"Maggie pulled out those dumb star stickers. Thought maybe we'd stick 'em to your ceiling."
Come home, Daryl meant.
"Should've said it back... when you did. Just, that's not something I say. Not good at it, probably," Daryl said awkwardly, adjusting the blanket so it covered her shoulder better. "You're... should've just said it but I love you. So just sleep for a bit. I'll take watch."