Chapter Text
There was an obvious tension between Rick and Lori, and it didn’t take much to notice. Things never seemed right between the two ever since Rick made his return from the “dead” at the quarry. There seemed to be a gap, an unsettling distance between the married couple, and it was taking a toll on both of them. Though it was never fully said outright that Lori was pregnant, she expressed the signs and symptoms—not to mention the whispers among the group members, the unrelenting gossip when no one had anything better to do. Stress was hitting Rick full force as Lori suffered with morning sickness. He paid no mind to her though. His brain was trained on finding a secure location to hunker down for the winter, to support the group, to lead them.
Daryl noticed right offhand that Rick wasn’t giving Lori the support she truly needed. He knew nothing about pregnancy or really how to technically help a woman who was indeed pregnant. But he knew Lori needed someone. After all, the group was still half way pulled apart since the little speech Rick failed to mention soon after the visit to the CDC, after the herd of walkers blew through the farm and forced them to flee. It hadn’t been long since then and people were still frightened for what was to become of their lives now—would they be safe? What about food, shelter? There wasn’t much to go by anymore.
So here they were, holed up in an old rundown house with tainted windows and creaky floorboards, layers of dust on everything that was left abandoned. The plan wasn’t to stay long but to provide shelter through the night and the next day as everyone split up and proceeded on with their tasks. Everyone had just settled down to eat a little something, this time being canned beans. There was hardly enough to go around with everyone that was present and it seemed as though nobody was up for conversation. Rick maintained his distance from the group as he usually stood outside, otherwise in the far corner of the room. Nobody met eyes with him, nobody dared test his patience. He would come back down eventually, he just needed his time.
Everyone began to head out as Lori stayed put. She still sat on the old dusty floor with her back propped up against the wall, her head rested in her hands with her knees pulled to her chest. Her dark brunette hair hung down over her hands further burying her face from anyone who could catch a glimpse of her before leaving the house. She was distraught. She was a mess. She felt nauseated half of the time. She felt alone.
Daryl knew it wasn’t his place to ever say anything to Rick about his treatment towards Lori. It wasn’t his place to solve their marital problems. Even if it was, what was he suppose to say? There was a small part of him that wanted to reach out to Lori and help her but he didn’t know what to do. She was a woman and women needed comforting. Daryl didn’t have the first clue what that really meant or how to go about it. But he at least knew one way he could help.
“Here,” he bent down to her level on the floor and offered his helping of food. He hadn’t touched it and quite frankly, he never planned on eating it anyway. He had this planned out in the back of his mind.
Lori brushed her hair back and out of her face as she looked over at him before switching her gaze to his outstretched hand with the food. She forced a weak smile before she let out a half choked laugh, “What? So I can throw it up? Better that you keep it. You need to eat.”
He ignored any remark said about him, “Better to throw this up than stomach acid or dry heave.” Daryl set the bowl down next to her. He realized then that his words painted quite the picture and hoped that didn’t set her stomach off.
Lori stared back at Daryl for a moment before glancing down at the bowl that now resided beside her. Daryl rose back on his feet as Lori searched for the words to say.
“Thank you,” Lori looked back up at him, a genuine smile now apparent on her face. She appreciated his concern and she wanted to make sure she could at least thank him for it.
Daryl only returned a slight nod before he left, his crossbow strapped across his back. He wasn’t a man of many words but his actions spoke for him. That was enough to get his point across and show that he was there for her.