Chapter Text
It was too many hours to count before the sun rose, and Torrey had been awake for all of them. Every time she tried to close her eyes, Daryl’s sky blue windows to the soul floated behind her lids, and they soon faded outward until his face was in plain view in her mind; after that the replays of the afternoon came on, and she shuddered every time she was forced to relive the bullet hitting his forehead, and the way he dropped to the ground in her arms, nearly dead weight.
No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t seem to get him out of her mind. They weren’t even friends, barely acquaintances, but there was some otherworldy pull she felt to him. Maybe it was the way his blue eyes, sharp even through his obvious pain, had looked pointedly into her green ones rather than rove over her half-naked torso, a gentlemanly gesture she’d never have expected from him. Maybe it was his gruff nature, his one-man-show attitude that drew her in, or the fact that she found his sarcastic undercuts funny, a trait she admired in Ricardo, even though he was more like a brother to her. Maybe it was just the fact that she’d had the chance to help him, see him vulnerable in a way that, she assumed, no one else had before.
She contemplated all of those different possibilities a hundred times over before the sun broke over the fields, and her friends rose for the morning. She only snapped out of her reverie because she knew she’d need her mind clear to function through the day.
Ricardo woke first, stretching and rubbing his eyes with a yawn as he looked over at Torrey. “You been up all night?” He asked, raising one eyebrow at her.
“Yeah, I was just too wound up to sleep. Plus the moon and the stars shine brighter out here than they did in California; I couldn’t help but stare at them for a long while.” Torrey smiled, shaking out her fiery red hair. Her thoughts of the mysterious redneck would have to wait until later that night; it was time to start another day in the apocalypse.
~ ~ ~
Torrey poked her head into Daryl’s tent, watching him poke holes in part of the netting with one of his bolts for a moment before speaking. “Good morning.”
Daryl turned just enough to look at her, giving her a nod as greeting. She took that as allowance to enter, and moved in to perch on a milk crate beside his cot.
“Came to see how you were doing. Feeling alright?” Torrey’s eyes wandered over the parts of him that she could see, trying to check for any signs of infection or other serious issue.
“Been better.” Daryl mumbled, suddenly focusing intently on the arrow between his fingers.
Torrey nodded, unsure of what to say now. Daryl didn’t speak either, waiting for her, but she couldn’t seem to make her throat push out words. The two sat in awkward silence, not even looking at each other, or at least not directly.
“Well, I’m going to head out with Rick and the others to look for Sophia, see if we can follow the creek and find a place where she could be hiding. If you need anything, my friends are staying around the camp, and they can get in touch with me.”
Daryl’s eyes flickered to Torrey’s, the obvious question burning in them, but still he said nothing.
“We have a set of walkies.” Torrey answered anyway, feeling like she needed to explain herself. “I keep one with me at all times, and either Ricardo or Monica holds onto the other, just in case we get separated. They work up to about five miles out, and I doubt I’d be able to wander that far.” She smirked slightly, her dry joke falling about as flat as his unwashed hair; unwashed or no she still had an odd urge to run her fingers lightly through the strands.
Daryl ducked his chin once, as a sort of acceptance, flipping the bolt around his fingers. Torrey watched the movement, almost fascinated by how easily he toyed with the arrow, making it wind around his fingers as if it were a part of him.
Something about his motions were disquieting, and without really thinking about what she was doing, she reached over and clasped one of his hands gently in her own. She had to lean forward to do so, and her butt was nearly off the crate, her emerald green tank top falling too low for Daryl’s comfort, but she didn’t care. He looked at her, raising one eyebrow in confusion, but didn’t pull away from her grip, which she took as a good sign.
“I want you to know that I think how much you searched for Sophia is quite commendable. I don’t know that any of us would have had the strength to make it back to camp in your condition yesterday, with or without help.” She paused here, a grin playing on her lips. “Well, except me, of course.”
Daryl’s lips twitched slightly, and she caught the vaguest hint of a smile on his face; definitely a good sign.
“I heard what Carol said yesterday, about you being every bit as good as the Rick and Shane. She’s right, you know. I don’t know the story, and I’m not going to pry into your life, but whatever reasons you have for not feeling worthy… just know that they aren’t true, because you’re a great human being, Daryl. I had plenty of years where I felt like the most worthless piece of shit on the planet, but my friends, those two people that came here with me, they’ve been with me through thick and thin, even before this whole nightmare started, and the fact that they’re still willing to follow me to the ends of the earth shows me that maybe I have some redeeming qualities after all. It’s the same for you, babe.”
There was more silence then, and Torrey could see Daryl contemplating everything she’d said. She didn’t expect him to say anything, or even know what to say to that in the first place, so she squeezed his hand once more before rising to leave. She had pulled the tent flap back, and was just about to step out into the
sunshine, when he spoke.
“Torrey?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful.”