Archive of Our Own

Rick Grimes had a hunch.

More than a hunch, really.

He has an idea, a suspicion. A feeling, deep in his bones, weighing down his every step.

By all accounts, Daryl knows that Rick has this suspicion, but Daryl’s never been one to openly admit when he was vulnerable, and it was almost just as hard to get him to admit when Rick was right about something, especially if it was about Daryl. Even more especially when it was something Daryl hadn’t hinted at.

So, Rick hadn’t gotten very far in proving this hunch to be right.

But he was confident. Maybe too confident, considering the topic. It wouldn’t be the first time Rick was completely, totally, dead wrong about something. If he was way off about all this.

But he wasn’t. He doesn’t think he is.

Only when he’s taking watch, at some stupid hour of the night, lost in his own head, does he second guess himself. The doubt is always gone by morning though. The doubt had barely been there recently anyway, lessening every day.

When he’d first had the thought, the actual thought, not just Daryl’s being petulant, petty, childish, or that’s another thing to add to the list of weird things Daryl does, the actual first thought about it all, he’d only just held back from laughing.

More at himself than the idea, but it probably didn’t matter.

Rick looks over his gun, turning it in his hands. He was on watch, there hadn’t been any walkers yet, and Rick was hoping it might stay that way. Though luck was making a point to work against them lately.

He’d dismissed the idea before he’d even thought it through, because it made him feel a little stupid.

Because he would have noticed if that was the case, right? He would have known. Not because Rick thinks Daryl couldn’t hide it, he knows Daryl could hide it. Knows that Daryl would hide it, if that was really what was happening.

It wouldn’t have been on Daryl at all, but him, Rick, he would have known. Should have known. Surely Rick would have fucking noticed by now.

Right?

Not only because Rick had experience in reading people, but because it was Daryl. He was around him so often, he looked forward to spending time with Daryl. He’d known Daryl since the start. They were practically living in each other’s pockets. How on earth could he not have noticed something like this.

This.

He didn’t have a name for it, not yet. Daryl did. Rick was yet to talk to him about it though.

Not for lack of trying.

It had been either five or six days since Atlanta. He’s pretty sure it’s still five, but the sun had set maybe an hour or so ago, and that paired with Rick being lost in his own thoughts, is making for some confusing time reflections.

He had tried three times to talk to Daryl about it since then. None of which have led anywhere except for Daryl storming off to look for water or shelter, where he’d disappear until late, or sometimes the next day entirely. Rick hated it when he disappeared like that.

The archer wasn’t talking much either. No one had been, understandably, but Rick missed his voice, and Daryl was by far the least talkative of the group.

A shuffling sound makes Rick turn around, eyes immediately catching sight of Daryl moving just off the edge of the road, toward the trees.

“Hey!” He calls out, just in time as the archer tries to sneak off.

Daryl tenses, turning to Rick. He bites his lip, then glances at the rest of the group. Everyone else was asleep, or at least attempting to sleep, Rick isn’t sure if everyone’s accomplished it yet. If someone else was awake though, they were doing a good job of hiding it.

Daryl looks back to meet Rick’s eyes, though it was dark enough that neither could really see each other that well. He makes a vague gesture towards the group, then tilts his head in the direction he had been heading.

Rick rolls his eyes. That hadn’t been what Rick was asking for, but he supposes that any communication with Daryl right now was something to be grateful for.

After an awkward few seconds where Daryl looked uncertain of himself, just staring at Rick, he finally turned toward the trees, with jagged, unsure movements.

“Wait!” Rick hisses out, coming across more harsh than he was intending to.

Daryl stills instantly, turning his head back to Rick. He pushes his crossbow up, as if to signify that Daryl wasn’t leaving just for the hell of it. Again, not why Rick was stopping him. At the very least, it was a positive that Daryl wasn’t looking mad in any way. He didn’t even seem annoyed at Rick having stopped him from leaving twice now, he just seemed confused.

Rick hides a sigh, and tries to gear himself up for how to approach this. This was shaping up to definitely be the best time to get any sort of answers out of Daryl. An explanation, a proper discussion, maybe.

Unlikely. An explanation could be possible though.

Rick looks to the direction Daryl was heading. “I’ll come.” He says as quietly as he can. Both for the opportunity to try and talk about this, as well as not really wanting Daryl to be sneaking off, alone, in the dark.

Daryl fails to shrug nonchalantly. “Nah.” He whispers, shaking his head. Then he turns back around and starts to disappear into the woods.

Rick doesn’t hide his sigh as he shakes his head. He either needed to follow the archer now, or wait for another opportunity, but he needed to decide it immediately.

Grumbling under his breath, Rick quickly walks closer to the group, nearly stepping on Rosita’s hand as he tries to step over people. He bends down, placing a hand on Michonne’s shoulder, and shaking a little harder than necessary.

Michonne squeezes her eyes tighter shut, eyebrows drawing in.

“Wake up.” Rick quietly says, as Michonne tries to prop herself up, blinking rapidly.

After a second, she looks around the group, before her eyes land on Rick’s.

“What’s going on?” She asks softly, but he can hear the concern in her voice too. Everything seemed fine, but it wouldn’t have been the first time that something was wrong when it looked fine.

He opens his mouth before realising that he doesn’t actually know how to answer, and just stares at her for half a second, trying to work it out. His tongue darts over his bottom lip, before he glances at the ground, letting go of Michonne’s shoulder. He hadn’t thought about how he was explaining this to someone else, too wrapped up in trying to figure out how to talk to Daryl.

“I, I need to-” He stumbles over his words. He looks back at Michonne. “I got to talk to Daryl.” He says, watching as she looks over the group once more, only looking back at him when she doesn’t find the archer. She raises an eyebrow at him.

He hits her shoulder lightly when he recognises the look. “Oh don’t.” He says as he starts to stand up from his crouched position.

“Could you just keep watch for me, please? I owe you.” He says, already walking toward where Daryl had left.

She stage whispers a ‘yeah, you do.’, but she has a smile on her face as she gets up.

Rick can’t help the small smile that comes to his own face. After getting far enough from the group that he doesn’t think he’ll wake anyone up, he starts to quicken his pace, desperately hoping he’s going in the right direction.

Daryl liked to tell him he was shit at sneaking around and being light on his feet, which wasn’t entirely a lie. Daryl had also taught him how to be quieter though, among other things, like tracking.

He was certainly no better than anyone else in their group, but he was good enough.

Good enough to know very recent tracks of a much heavier footed than normal, Daryl.

Rick wasn’t worried about walkers. Daryl would be fine against any of them, even at night. It was more so Daryl’s mental state that Rick was concerned about.

He was a little worried that Daryl might tell him to fuck off when he caught up. Only because Rick was confident that Daryl knew what Rick was going to try and talk about now, since his past attempts hadn’t exactly been subtle.

Daryl’s attitude earlier had been… promising, for lack of a better word.

The archer wasn’t seething with anger at the very mention of anything vulnerable, and he also hadn’t been completely shut down, and seemingly emotionless.

So Rick has been counting tonight as a success before he’d even tried to say anything to Daryl, which is really a testament to how shit everything has gone previously.

Distantly, he can hear a walker growling, somewhere off to his right, up ahead. He keeps walking forward, touching the knife attached to his belt. He had obviously used a lot of knives, a lot of times, over the course of all this, but there was no stopping the feeling of unfamiliarity with the weapon. Still, it was definitely the best method right now, especially at night.

Then he hears a familiar sound. Then the growling of the walker completely stopped.

It seemed he was on the right track after all. He quickly speeds up his steps, moving past trees until he’s reached the walker, who had gotten stuck against one of the trees, arrow sticking out of the back of its head.

“S’posed to be on watch.” He hears Daryl quietly mumble, before he sees the archer appear out of the dark, sidestepping Rick entirely as he reaches to tug the arrow out of the walker.

“Had more important things to do.” Rick says easily, as Daryl shakes his head lightly, trying to get his hair out of his face.

Daryl still doesn’t look at Rick.

“Should go.” Daryl says, already taking steps away from Rick.

Rick takes a few quick steps, easily catching up to Daryl. He tilts his head, hoping this wouldn’t end like his previous attempts. “I’ve still got more important things to do.” He shrugs.

Daryl tries to sigh but it comes out shakier than it should, and Rick’s concern doubles.

Now or never, right?

“We need to talk.” Rick says, and it sounds more uncertain than he wants it to, but he isn’t sure how to toe the line between being firm and confident, without making Daryl feel constricted and have him detach himself from the group.

Because Rick knows that he will, if he feels trapped. If he feels scared.

Daryl flinches, it’s a small movement but Rick catches it all the same.

Daryl quickens his pace, though it’s obvious that the archer doesn’t have a destination in mind, and he certainly wasn’t tracking anything. Rick adjusts to the pace easily.

“You’re not running away, You’re not hiding.” He says as softly as he can. He hopes to sound comforting, like he has Daryl’s back, because he does. He hopes that Daryl knows that all of this comes from a place of trust.

He hopes that Daryl will show some trust in Rick. He knows that Daryl trusts Rick in almost every situation, with almost everything, but he really isn’t sure if Daryl’s ever going to trust anyone with this.

But he hopes.

He can hear Daryl’s breathing, just a touch too fast.

They push past more trees, coming into a clearing. Without all the trees blocking their vision, the night’s stars shine brightly, casting a little more light onto the clearing than they had seen earlier. It’s almost peaceful, with the lack of walkers, and the glimmer of moonlight.

“Daryl.” Rick says, trying not to sound exasperated, trying to be patient. The type of patience typically reserved for children.  He stops walking, watching as Daryl slows down. The archer looks so vulnerable, uncertain of himself. Rick could count on one hand the number of times he had seen Daryl look unsure of himself. Let alone this unsure of himself.

Daryl stops after a few more steps, slowly turning to face Rick. He drops his crossbow to the ground, limbs moving in awkward, unsure ways. Even in the dark, Rick can see his slightly shaking frame. The look Daryl gives him just about breaks Rick.

“What’s wrong?” Rick asks, softly, quietly, gently. His tone is lighter, more patient. This has to be it. This has to be the time. He has to be the one to take charge here, because they both know that Daryl won’t, not when it’s this. He needs to be calm, and patient, and he needs Daryl to see that.

By the time Rick gets back to the rest of the group, he’ll know what’s happening. He’ll know the answer, he’ll have his confirmation. About this.

Because there is no way that Daryl can look like that and have this situation end with Rick still not knowing.

Daryl exhales, all too shaky, and his eyes are shimmering in the darkness, teary. He’s staring at Rick, zoning out. Lost in his own head.

“Hey, stay with me.” Rick instructs carefully.

Daryl tries to suck in a breath, but it’s audibly wrong. He’s panicking. Daryl is panicking because of Rick. Even when he’s hiding it, and yeah, someone else might not have caught Daryl’s panic right now, but he wasn’t someone else. He was Rick Grimes, and he wasn’t someone that Daryl could hide from. Not really.

“Daryl.” Rick calls out.

Daryl bites his lip, looking at Rick like he had a thousand words on the tip of his tongue. Rick was hoping the archer would say something. Anything. Anything about this.

At the start of the day Rick didn’t think he’d end up here. He’d felt the conversation coming closer and closer with each passing day, he’d known that eventually they’d have to talk, he’d always assumed it was something he would have to initiate, not that he ever minded at all.

 He knows how Daryl operates by now and he’s fine stepping up and being the first to talk. He just wasn’t quite sure how to bring it up. He wasn’t entirely confident he knew enough to bring it up. It certainly wasn’t for lack of examples, or questions and answers tucked away in a corner of his brain, or even that ever growing list of odd things Daryl does.

He takes a step closer to Daryl, watching as the archer just stands where he is, small tremors running through his body. Daryl opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out.

Rick wasn’t sure he had the right words for the aftermath of proposing such a conversation with Daryl. If you were talking about something vulnerable with Daryl, then you had to have a plan for the fallout of said conversation. Rick didn’t think he had that yet. He wasn’t prepared for an angry Daryl when it came to this. He certainly was expecting it, yes, but not prepared for it.

It’s just that, Rick was realising that regardless of if Rick had the right words, regardless of if he had a plan for the fallout, regardless of if he had a plan for when Daryl got angry and started storming off, it just simply didn’t matter.

He was never going to have those things. Never.

And this conversation needed to happen.

It was probably long overdue that Rick put a definition to this. At the end of the day, the only one who truly knew what this was, was Daryl. Rick had ideas, of course, but they really needed to have this conversation and if there was an opportunity now, then this was happening now.

But of course, that meant that Rick needed to lead this conversation. So, for now, Rick needed to do his damn best to think of everything that he knows or suspects or thinks is this.

Daryl shifts his weight from foot to foot, looking around the clearing, desperately searching for a way out, a distraction. A reason to not get into this.

He knows that things like this exist, he can vaguely recall something that ticks similar boxes, though most of it is to do with sex and kinks and he doesn’t really want to pry deeper into memories of weird high school parties than he absolutely has to. In turn, he isn’t even entirely sure that sex as a concept is something that relates back to Daryl, but he really, really doesn’t want to go down that rabbit hole and the entire idea of any of it is so ridiculous that he doesn’t even consider it for more time than it takes to cross his mind.

And sure, he can take a guess as to what might be happening if he thinks about it deeply, but this is Daryl, and he’s almost certain that trying to guess what Daryl is potentially thinking or feeling, especially when he’s vulnerable, is just about one of the worst ideas ever.

And the thing is that Daryl looks vulnerable. A state that Rick’s seen more than most but certainly not something that he’s used to.

The archer seems frustrated, trying desperately to come up with the right words in the right order and seemingly getting no closer to making this entire situation any clearer. Daryl huffs, looking about half a second away from storming away from both this conversation and the hope that they’ll ever finish this conversation.

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere, you’re okay.” Rick gently reminds him, each word slow and dripping with care.

He expects Daryl to get angry. He expects the yelling and pointed fingers and huffing breaths, and he expects him to take the opportunity to bolt and not speak to Rick for the next few days, no matter the disappointment Rick would feel, nor the progress they’d undo surrounding this conversation.

What he does not expect are the tears that slide down Daryl’s face, the archer letting out a shaky breath and something stuck between a whine and a groan and a sob. Somewhere within the next few seconds of stunned silence, they make eye contact, and if Rick thought that Daryl looked vulnerable before. Rick can’t help but take it as a sign that Daryl needs Rick to lead him right now, to guide him through this.

This conversation.

This panic and anxiety. (Built up for so long.)

This…

This.

Rick cautiously approaches Daryl, how he might’ve with a scared kid, back when he was a sheriff, back in the old normal.

"’m gonna need you to stay calm. I’m gonna do what I think is the right thing and if any of it isn’t, you tell me.”

Daryl tries to contain the next sob, but it forces its way out and the lack of control Daryl has over it clearly makes his panic far worse.

“Yeah?” Rick prompts, trying to keep him grounded.

Daryl attempts a shaky nod but it’s so jerky it almost looks like a tic. Or a flinch. Rick deems it good enough, despite the growing worry he feels for his archer.

His right hand is raised slightly, and his head is tilted, ducked lower than necessary to see the archer’s eyes. He tries to keep his appearance calm and comforting while still looking in control. It’s a mask he hasn’t had to slip on for a long while now, and yet it comes just as naturally as it used to, maybe more so now.

“Breathe.” Rick instructs, certainly not unkindly, but firmly all the same. He gets the impression that saying too much, or moving closer to him might just suffocate Daryl and overwhelm him more, which was an outcome that Rick was determined not to get to. Though it was looking like that outcome might end up being the only outcome.

There was a time to comfort, and there was a time to take control.

And Rick had only just made a point of knowing that Daryl needed someone to guide him.

And with this? Well, Rick was pretty sure that Daryl needed him to guide him.

Daryl inhales a panicked breath, much too fast, and is exhaling again almost immediately, body trembling like he might collapse if he keeps this up. He whimpers at the failed attempt, looking at Rick with the biggest, teariest eyes Rick has ever seen, and Rick doesn’t even care if he’s somehow wrong about all this because right now the comparison of Daryl to a very small, frightened child, is damn near a perfect match.

“Hey, hey!” Rick calls as Daryl starts getting lost in his panicked breathing. Daryl bites on his quivering lip, in a weak attempt to keep any noise from getting out.

Rick takes one step forward, eyes never leaving Daryl’s.

“Breathe.” He repeats, voice strong.

Daryl tries to take in another breath, but it ends up exactly like his first attempt, which only causes more tears to slide down his face, and that only makes Daryl panic more. The archer opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but nothing coherent comes out and before Rick can find the time to blink, Daryl’s already whimpering and sobbing and coughing, his knees buckling underneath him.

Rick rushes his next steps, grabbing Daryl in a tight hug before he really does collapse, and it just makes Daryl sob that much harder. Despite the somewhat awkward angle, and the suddenness of having most of Daryl’s weight relied on him, Rick doesn’t stop his encouragement.

He pulls Daryl back from him, just enough that he can grab Daryl’s shaking hand and press it firmly against his own chest. “We’re gonna do this together, right?” He asks, even though he knows he won’t get a verbal response back.

Rick takes an exaggerated deep breath in, watching as Daryl manages to breathe in somewhat clearly for half the time Rick had, before he starts sputtering and shaking his head, teeth biting down on his bottom lip hard.

“Good.” Rick draws out, soothingly. “That’s good, you’re okay.” He reassures, nodding his head calmly. “Halfway there. Now again.”

Rick starts to drag in another deep breath, but Daryl only lets out a panicked whine, turning his head completely away from Rick.

Rick instantly reaches out with his other hand, that isn’t pinning Daryl’s hand to his chest. Grabbing Daryl’s chin, as softly as he’s able to, and pulling Daryl’s face back until they’re back to making eye contact. He doesn’t let go, holding the archer in place.

“You’re okay.” Rick says slowly, clearly. He keeps his eyes focused solely on Daryl’s tear filled ones. “You can do this.” He says.

Daryl whines, higher in pitch, and it trails off into another sob. He squeezes his eyes closed, tears spilling out regardless.

“Hey, no. Look at me, okay? Just look at me.” Rick tries, and by some miracle, Daryl listens to him, opening his eyes, and staring right at Rick with a desperate look of ‘help’ that Rick could only liken to a small child.

Over Daryl’s panicked breathing, Rick says, “You can do this.”

Daryl’s chin is trembling in Rick’s hold. “I know you can.” He says, gently removing his hand, and reaching it further up Daryl’s face.

He brushes a strand of hair away that had fallen in front of Daryl’s face, absentmindedly making a small shushing sound at Daryl’s continuous whimpers and cries.

Rick slowly brings his hand closer, more gentle than ever, as he tenderly runs his thumb across Daryl’s cheek, trying to get rid of the tears, despite how fast more were falling. “And I would never lie to you.” He says as he does so.             

With one hand still pinning Daryl’s hand to his chest, and the other hand gently holding Daryl’s cheek, Rick tells him in a comforting voice, “You just gotta try. Just try for me Daryl.”

He gets a half sob, half whimper in response.

Rick nods at him in a signal to start again, before he takes in another exaggerated deep breath. Daryl’s breathing is still too fast, interrupted by cries and sometimes coughing, but it’s obvious that he really is trying, despites how obviously scared he was.

Rick murmurs a quiet, but confident, “That’s it, good job, you’ve got it.”

They try again, with similar results to the first time, but nothing has gotten worse, and Daryl hasn’t given up in a fit of panic, so Rick counts it as a step in the right direction.

“Keep going, I’ve got you.” Rick says, never breaking eye contact with Daryl.

The next time, Daryl gasps, and even though it’s still shaky, and he’s still exhaling too fast, it is an improvement to what they’d been working with.

“Doin’ so good, Daryl. So good.” He says, before directing Daryl with another deep breath. Daryl’s sobs have tapered off, and while he hasn’t stopped whimpering, the higher pitched, panicked whines have gone too.

The next time, Daryl has started trying to take a deep breath before Rick is guiding him too. Rick runs his thumb over Daryl’s cheek once more. His tears hadn’t slowed yet, but Rick was calm, they’d end soon too. “There you go.” He says, small smile coming to his face. “You’ve got it.”

Daryl draws his eyebrows in slightly, and Rick can feel Daryl pushing his hand a bit harder against his chest. Somehow, Rick understands exactly what he’s trying to convey. He can’t help but chuckle, just a little.

“Yeah, and I’ve still got you. I’ve still got you.” He says, and the notion of it is so childlike that Rick can’t stop himself from smiling with affection. He loosens his grip on Daryl’s hand, running his thumb and fingertips over the top of it, in a soothing manner.

They stay like that for a few more minutes. Daryl’s breathing isn’t the best it could be, but he isn’t getting cut off by how hard he’s crying, so it’s the best they’re going to get for a while. Despite Rick having lessened his grip, and being more than happy to let Daryl move out of his hold if he wanted a little more space, now that he wasn’t lost in panic, Daryl stays exactly where he is, keeping his hand on Rick’s chest, and even leaning into the hand cupping his cheek.

As Daryl’s tears start to slow more, Rick brushes his thumb over Daryl’s cheek again, watching as Daryl presses his eyes shut tight. The way he’s leaning into the touch doesn’t go unnoticed.

He takes a step closer, pulling Daryl toward him. Daryl practically falls into Rick’s arms. Their arms are at slightly awkward angles, but Rick can tell that Daryl isn’t going to do anything about it, so he gently grabs Daryl’s forearms, and repositions him so that Daryl’s arms are on top of Ricks shoulders. Daryl all but melts into him, shaky breath leaving him.

Rick hugs him tightly, one hand going to Daryl’s hair, while the other circles his waist. “You did good.” He whispers to the archer. He feels Daryl shake his head against his shoulder.

“You did.” Rick repeats. This wasn’t something he was going to let Daryl fight him on. “I’m proud of you.” He says.

He hears a small sniffle, and Daryl’s legs are shaking a little. Rick isn’t worried about Daryl actually collapsing anymore, but the archer was relying most of his weight against Rick, and with their position, Rick was feeling like sitting down could be a better idea, for both of them.

“Think you wanna sit down?” He murmurs to Daryl, who shrugs, then nods, then tightens his grip on Rick.

Rick wasn’t going to complain. Not about Daryl wanting to be so physically close, affectionate. Not when it was this.

“Okay, come on.” Rick starts, pulling Daryl away from him. The archer goes easily enough, but the look of hesitation is evident. Daryl’s biting his lip, hair covering his eyes. His face is blotchy, and he’s sniffling every few minutes. Rick has seen Daryl vulnerable before, but he has never seen Daryl look like this. He looks overwhelmed, and lost, and like he isn’t sure about anything.

Rick checks their surroundings, looking for the best spot to go. He quickly decides on the closest tree available and nods his head in that direction.

With Daryl still hovering so close to him, lost look about him, like he needs someone to guide him still, Rick decides to do something which could make Daryl uncomfortable, make him snap out of it and ask what the hell Rick was doing.

But it wouldn’t. Because he was right, right? He did know what was going on right now. He might not have the terminology, or the experience, but he knew. He knew enough.

And it wasn’t like Rick hadn’t been a parent to two kids already, right? So maybe he did have experience. Or at least, he had enough.

He grabs Daryl’s hand, getting a quiet, sharp intake of breath in response. He leads Daryl over, trying to keep a balance of loose-enough-not-to-drag-you and tight-enough-to-make-you-feel-safe. Rick genuinely can’t even remember the last time he’d held hands with someone.

Rick only lets go of Daryl’s hand as he’s crouching down, to sit with his back half against the tree. He looks up toward Daryl, nodding to the spot next to him, on his left, and watches as Daryl awkwardly moves to sit down next to Rick. His movements are so unsure, so lost. It almost makes Rick feel like he’s sitting next to a total stranger.

But he also knows Daryl enough to know that this was still his archer. He knows that the things Daryl doesn’t share with the group make up a huge part of who he is, just as much as what he does show.

And Rick’s lucky to see more than most people.

He pushes himself up against the tree, then looks at Rick, still biting his lip, still hiding behind his hair, and then shuffles closer until they’re pressed up next to each other, shoulders touching.

Rick has his right leg propped up, and his hand moves behind Daryl’s head as soon as the archer is sitting down. He pulls Daryl toward him, until the archer is resting his head against Rick’s chest, both of his legs tucked up as close to his body as possible, arms around them. He was making himself seem so much physically smaller that it breaks Rick’s heart and makes him feel like even more of an idiot.

But now wasn’t the time for that.

It doesn’t take long before Daryl’s leaning a lot of his weight on Rick again, the archer’s position meaning that he’s practically half lying on Rick’s lap, body curled up.

Rick works his fingers through Daryl’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. They sit in silence for a while, beside the occasional sniffle from Daryl.

Rick lets them sit in the comfortable silence for ten or so minutes, before he speaks up.

“I have an idea of what’s goin’ on,” Rick mumbles. “but you think you can explain it to me?”

He can feel Daryl tense in mostly embarrassment, before he hesitantly shakes his head. The action in itself is such a childlike thing to do, that it almost says more about Daryl than if Daryl were to just say something. Almost, but not quite.

Rick feels an endearing smile tug at his lips. “We need to talk about it.” He says.

“Don’t.” Daryl quietly says, sulkily. His voice is softer than normal, though Rick can only just tell, with how quiet Daryl was. Which Rick knew was on purpose, which again, said a lot more about this than Daryl might think.

Because if the archer was following childlike logic, then obviously Rick would never notice such things, right? Would never connect the dots and think that Daryl was hiding those things for a reason.

Of course not. The thought makes Rick’s smile just a little bit bigger. Fonder.

Rick chuckles. “No, we do.” He says, but his tone is light, Daryl was clearly drained after everything, and Rick wasn’t expecting him to want to open up about everything right now, but this could be the start of doing so.

“Just give me a name for it.” He compromises. “That’s all I need right now, we can work on the rest of it all later.” He says. Having a name to work with would really help Rick out, any label, really.

And he was hoping that by sliding in the idea of actually talking about the rest of it later, while Daryl seemed more inclined to both listen and agree to it, would mean that a future conversation about this would actually end up happening.

Daryl shrugs, and even though Rick can’t see it, he bets that the archer is biting his lip. There’s silence again, but Rick doesn’t think he’s trying to ignore the question, so he gives Daryl time.

Daryl mumbles something, but it’s so quiet and so rushed out that Rick can barely understand him, and he suddenly feels so sorry for Daryl, who seemed so vulnerable and so scared about the whole thing.

He runs his fingers through Daryl’s hair as comfortingly as he possibly can, scratching at his scalp occasionally.

“’s age regression.” Daryl says, voice shaky and just barely above a whisper. He’s subconsciously curled into himself even further, trying to make himself seem smaller. Trying to hide. Rick brings his hand down rub Daryl’s shoulder and arm.

“Thankyou.” Rick whispers in response. In an act of complete impulsiveness, he leans his head down, and presses a feather light kiss to the top of Daryl’s head. He hears Daryl exhale shakily, followed by a small sniffle. “I’m proud of you.” He whispers again.

This wasn’t how he was expecting any of this to go, and he wasn’t given answers as such, but he’s at least confident about what he knows now. He has his confirmation.

And now it wasn’t just this. Now he had something to work with, a starting point.

Age regression.

Yeah, that sounded right.