CHAPTER TEN - ALONE
It had been three months since Davina left Rick's house and never returned. He was devasted and didn't hide it. Everyone had started to notice.
Shane had tried to encourage him to go for drinks and forget his troubles. Leon had attempted to befriend him to convince Rick to join him for some drinks with their other work colleagues. Even Sheriff Oldham had pulled him into his office in an attempt to get Rick to accept time off work, but to no avail.
Despite his blurred look on life, it hadn't gone unnoticed to Rick that Tara Chambler refused to look him in the eye. She made excuses to leave when he entered the room and had gone so far as to swap shifts to avoid being on patrol with him.
He assumed it was because she was helping Davina and was worried he would question her on Davina's whereabouts and how she was, but Rick didn't have the energy.
He was emotionally drained and lost. He had spent many nights sitting in his car, willing to drive to Daryl Dixon's home and find Davina, but he never made it past the driveway.
Rick knew the way he was acting wasn't in his nature. It was out of character, and it made him feel weak and pathetic every time he thought of Davina. She plagued his thoughts every single day.
He would patrol the streets, and his heart would almost stop when he caught a glimpse of any dark-haired woman, but he was always left feeling empty when he realised it wasn't the woman he was desperate to see.
It was eleven days until Merle Dixon would be sentenced for the murder he didn't commit, and Rick knew it would be a difficult time for Davina and Daryl. He wanted nothing more than to be with her and comfort her, but he was Coward. He didn't want to go against what she had said in her letter.
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"Hey, Officer Chambler, it's good to see you again," Michonne Horthorne called out as she saw her friend approach her office. "How are you?" she asked, greeting her with a hug once she was close enough.
Tara half-heartedly smiled, "I'm alright, same old, how are you? Heard some pregnant woman went a bit crazy on you."
Michonne sat behind her desk, and Tara sat on the opposite side, "yeah, it's okay. Times are hard, I hold no grudges, and she's getting the help she needs now," Michonne smiled positively.
Despite Michonne's past, she was always positive and cared for everyone. She was always wanting the best for them. It was why she created the Rehabilitation and Rehousing Programme.
After her abusive marriage with a very wealthy man went south, leading to him being shot dead by the police, Michonne used the inherited wealth to fund the charity. Years later, she had sponsors from around the country supporting what she does and some setting up their own programs in other states.
"So why are you here? We don't usually see you until Fridays?" Michonne questioned in a curious tone.
Tara sighed. "So you know Davina Cooper?"
"The Lady you referred some months back?" Michonne questioned.
"Yeah, that's the one. I just want to - I need to know how she is. I shouldn't be telling you any of this, but I know you can be trusted."
Michonne nodded slowly, twiddling her pen between her fingers in anticipation.
"There's a man I work with; he was involved with Ms Cooper before I referred her to you," Tara swallowed hard and looked down at her hands, "he doesn't appear to be handling it very well. I told dav-Ms Cooper to cut ties with Ri-I mean, my work colleague," Tara paused, trying to pull herself together and get out of her flustered state. "I just want to know she's okay so I can get him out of this rut. I can't even look at him because I feel so guilty for telling her to leave him alone."
Michonne sighed with a soft expression on her face, but she was also worried about the information she was about to give.
"Tara, I'm going to be honest with you; I don't think any of the information I'm about to give to you is going to make that man feel better even if you could tell him what I'm about to tell you," Michonne said in a concerned tone.
"Why? What's happened?" she asked desperately.
"Ms Cooper did everything that was asked of her; she even set a record of attending three job interviews in one day. She was the most willing and enthusiastic referral I've ever had."
Tara smiled. "That's good, that's really good. So what happened?"
Michonned looked down at her fingertips, clasping at her pen, "She passed her initial drug test, but the one after that, she failed, and you know I have zero tolerance for it. I told her that when she was clean, we could go right back and start the process again and gave her all the information she needed for rehab. She was so willing to turn her life around. I don't know what changed. She stormed out of here after throwing the pamphlets in my face."
Michonne watched as Tara's face dropped and became full of disappointment, anger and sadness.
"I don't know if she assumed she would have to pay out of pocket for rehab if she was angry and embarrassed she had been caught. I honestly don't know. I'm as disappointed as you are that we couldn't help her, but whether she returns today, tomorrow or next year, I will help that woman."
Tara could've cried at that moment. She knew that the situation with Davina, Michonne and the drugs was not something she could've changed, but she had come to Michonne with the expectation of returning some reassuring information to Rixk to pull him out of the rut he was stuck in.
Tara wanted to inform Rick of her findings. Still, despite the fact she could say the conversation would be Officer to Officer, she knew she could get into trouble for sharing confidential information with him.
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The house felt so big; there was one less body roaming around the rooms, and Daryl and Davina had never felt so alone.
Davina was angry at herself for failing the programme she was so desperate to complete.
Michonne had been amazingly supportive throughout the entire process, but she fucked up.
When Daryl returned home with the small bag of white power, she didn't bat an eyelid. She knew he took drugs, not as often as Merle ever did, and he wasn't reliant upon them, but after Merle was transferred, he took them more frequently.
She had only watched on with a curious expression on her face at first, wondering what it was like.
It would surprise many to know that she had never taken drugs before; she had never had the desire. But for some reason, that night, she wanted to.
Daryl had insisted she didn't, but she was far more insistent in trying.
"It's only a little pick me up; I don't sleep. Need something," Daryl mumbled gruffly.
Davina didn't need to be put off the idea or encouraged to take anything. If she wanted to do something, she would do it, and she knew with the way she had been feeling that if Daryl refused, she would go out and find drugs from someone else.
Daryl sighed; he didn't have the energy to argue with her any longer and pushed the tray with a line of white powder across the coffee table towards her. "This is on you, though."
Despite the odd disagreement Davina and Daryl had, they had almost become one. They leaned on each other for support, especially after Davina was removed from the programme for failing her drug test.
She was devastated, and although she knew she had options, she didn't have the motivation or desire to change her current situation.
Daryl needed her more than he would ever admit. They would sit up for hours talking, and they would do everything together. To the point where if one were leaving the house, the other would follow without an invitation or a single word shared between them.
"Do you ever just wish you could forget about everything that's happened?" Davina asked Daryl in a haze of drink and drugs.
"Every second of every day," Daryl replied, leaning back on the old battered and torn couch.
Davina sighed, "some days, I think it'd be better just to die, leave the world completely. It's not like I'd be a loss to anyone."
Daryl shot her a look, "you'd be a loss to me," he stated softly as he placed his hand on top of hers that lay in the middle of the couch.
She turned and smiled at him, "help me forget, Daryl. I don't care how, just help me."
Daryl sighed and squeezed her hand; he knew what she wanted; they had discussed and decided against it before, but he was feeling her pain too, "I'll be back soon."
He stood from the couch and made his way to the door.
He didn't know as much about drugs as his brother did, and the only ones he had ever used were cocaine and marijuana, but he did recall Merle saying one drug, in particular, sent him to another world and made him sleep for hours afterwards.
Daryl wasn't a drug pusher, but at that moment, he felt like they could both use something that could eliminate their thoughts and fears and take them somewhere else.