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When he realized only Carol took (good) care of Daryl - when he allowed it, Rick's first instinct was to feel guilty, a piercing pang in his chest while hearing his head repeat his offenses at himself.
Then he got his head out of his ass, was the way he thought it with a bitter underline on the slang, feeling like it could burn like a whip at him, reminded that no problem was gonna be solved like that.
Problem was that Daryl was being left out of the pack's comfort routine. Daryl was an Alpha, he could handle himself, could deal with loneliness - not that it made any good to him, or anyone - Daryl was still pack, and Rick as the Alpha leader himself should strain their bounds, their connection.
Rick went to the place where Daryl had been staying, away from others and patted the cell bars to call the other Alpha's attention.
Daryl had his ears perked already, probably smelled the other Alpha long before Rick had raised his hand.
"You could've called," Daryl grunted, looking over his shoulder just for a moment, like an acknowledgment, and gathering his bolts over a wooden box beside his bed "grabbing and slapping things are a Walkers' thang."
Rick snorted.
"Sure is, I used to do those on my time too," he said, opening a small smile at seen Daryl's subtly fond exasperation glare thrown toward Rick over a shoulder.
"What's the problem?" Daryl said, turning around and sitting back on his bed; taking his hands one on the other, looking at his dirty nails as if trying to find out how they got so dirty, flicking the dirty gray out of them.
Rick breathed deeply, walking closer to Daryl's bed.
"Can I?" He gestured his head to the bed and Daryl shrugged.
"Sure, I guess," Daryl seemed somewhat uncomfortable, sightly, not enough to threw Rick out - cause Daryl could and had all the strength and allowance to do so if he really wanted to - thus, Rick proceeded.
He nodded then, sitting beside Daryl, trying to keep some space between them so his friend didn't feel obligated to do anything that he may not want to.
"So..." Rick started, looking down at the ground, trying to find the right words, the right way to approach Daryl; he knew Daryl was a loner, someone unused to touch and care.
"So..." Daryl repeated, seemingly to be taking the courage, looking up at Rick, his eyes showing suspicious but of a kind Rick knows is not related to him but the possible subject he was there to bring up.
"Daryl," Rick says, leveling his eyes up to his friend's, "don't ever believe you have no part on it, between us."
Daryl twisted his lips, bringing a nail to his mouth and his eyes away.
"Right," he said, worrying his lower lip, "just came to inform me, or somethin?"
Rick rolled his eyes, feeling strangely fond of such a physical open reaction, a reaction that wasn't aggressive or disdainful. A reaction that talked about how open Daryl could be with them, with Rick.
"I haven't shown it enough to you," Rick answered, simply, still looking directly at Daryl.
Daryl looked back at him with a raised eyebrow.
Before Daryl could react in another reactive, defensive way, Rick pulled himself forward, just the range of a leg and half, keeping a space between them.
Daryl didn't flinch but watched the whole movement with wide eyes, his hands nailing his covered tighs.
"What..." Daryl stopped himself, shaking his head slightly, he then exclaimed "stop," with a tight jaw and so Rick stopped, he held even his breath because he was scared he had done something wrong, too wrong.
Rick tried to take a breathe and raise up, to run away, to stay enough away, to keep their friendship intact when he lost his balance when Daryl held him back with a hand.
"No," Daryl said, glancing at a bewildered Rick Grimes, who felt quite dizzy with the whole situation.
'Ok,' Rick whispered, sitting back on his ass, trying to move around with Daryl's hand over his.
Daryl moved slowly. Rick watching him, tensely.
"Chill out, Grimes," Daryl commented with something like a shadow of amusement, still moving toward the other while Rick tried to loosen his muscles, his nerves, trying to breathe normally.
Daryl leaned onto his pack leader and brushed their cheeks together, his cold nose tip brushing Rick's ear. Rick shivered and felt himself rumble with the contact. He was so damn warmly pleased for the gesture, the intimacy, and respect of it.
"You're our leader, Rick, you deserved it... too," Daryl muttered, Rick leaned onto the touch of Daryl's breath, letting themselves scent each other.
"Thank you, Daryl," Rick whispered, breathless and he was genuinely thankful, glad to have Daryl's respect, Daryl's approval.
Daryl didn't answer, just kept their cheeks together, leaning into Rick while Rick just took what Daryl gave him. He was genuinely thankful and Rick thought Daryl should be brought closer to them, to him. To be also thanked and allowed to care while being cared.