Invalids

He stared at her, eyes burning with confusion. Who was she? An enigma? A reality? She made no sense to him, but he was in love with her, and love didn't care for sense. There were moments, as they sat in the cold, broken cell of an abandoned prison, that Daryl wondered how she felt. Wondered, and pined, and longed - though of course, he couldn't say it. Couldn't speak. All he could do was be one of the group; protect it, and work for it, and be protected by it.

But hours and days and weeks passed, and Daryl still felt the way he'd always felt. She was still an enigma, his reality, his fantasy, his everything. Standing next to him in the woods as they scavenged, weapons ready, eyes vigilant; she was the thing he was pursuing all along and she was clueless. Daryl would stand beside her and breathe, and even that was a miracle to him.

And then there was nighttime. Holed up in freezing cold jail cells, a fire lit in the center just to keep them all warm, the worn, thin sheets curled around their shoulders - it wasn't exactly the ideal place to hold tightly to your conservative values. This was the exact time and place in which you would throw them out the window and slip into her room, taking her hand and asking her if you could keep her company - and keep her warm. And she'd say yes, because...well, she'd be crazy not to. But no; Daryl wasn't clever enough for that apparently.

But here they were, alone in the prison as the rest of the group was on a hunt; two injured group members with eyes burning into one another without relief.

"Are you going to say anything?" she finally spoke. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips; he didn't let it shine through, but it was tugging there - her Welsh accent never failed to wash him over with a sense of admiration.

"Is it necessary?" he returned, an eyebrow raised in question. She huffed and let her back rest into the cool brick, her arm held tight to her chest in a sling. She found her eyes staring up at the blue that painted itself across the sky above them, tufts of white breaking the waves and making her feel like maybe, just maybe, the world was back to normal outside. No dead people walking; just normal.

"You keep lookin' up so hard, your eyes'll get stuck that way," Daryl warned, a grumble following closely as he fussed with the thick bandage wrapped around his thigh. She ignored his words and instead focused on the warm, intense storm of angry butterflies whizzing around her insides; she didn't deserve this - she was a good person. Always had been. She was kind, and giving, and she didn't deserve to be spending her apocalypse drowned in emotion for a man who couldn't get the message if it was branded onto his goddamn chest.

"They'll be back soon, and then I'm gonna borrow Janie's bat and beat you with it," she said in an eerily calm, unwavering voice. He clenched his jaw and stared at her.

"Well now what'd I do?" he snapped back, "It wasn't exactly intentional, if you're talkin' about this." He gestured to his leg and her arm, then grabbed his bag of sunflower seeds and started breaking a few open.

She would've rolled her eyes from there to the moon if she wasn't so stuck on watching the sky; all she could think about was the number of hours she'd spent in these last six months or so, watching him protect this group and care for the group and live for the group. Falling in love with him hopelessly, though each night she'd go to sleep and she'd whisper to herself, "Not now. Not while the world is dead." Falling in love wasn't something you did when everything else was falling apart.

Or maybe it was exactly what you did when everything else was falling apart. She hadn't quite decided all the way just yet.

"Next time, keep your eye on the walkers, not your goddamn feet, Daryl."

"I wasn't lookin' at my feet!" His voice was getting louder.

"Well then what the hell were you lookin' at?" She narrowed her eyes at him, having left the sky to its own devices and turned completely to him. She wasn't having this.

"Noneya, Fee-Fee!" The nickname was forbidden - her name was Effy, and he knew it. He was pressing her buttons. What she hated most was how well it was working.

"Don't you call me that!" Putting her foot down.

"Why not!?" Stomping his feet right back.

"Because I said so!" Running out of options.

"Well then back off!" Taking advantage of the frustration.

"No, tell me what was so damn important to look at instead of keepin' an eye on them! I want to know!"

He looked into her eyes and in a split second had to decide if he wanted to tell her - if he wanted to open up.

He decided... nah.

"Too fuckin' bad, then!"

"No, tell me!"

"Why are you being such a-"

"Say it! I dare you!"

"A girl! You're such a goddamn girl, you can't even-"

"Daryl, I'm not asking for a lot, just tell me!"

"Fine! It was you! Okay?!" They went silent. He clutched onto the ragged pillow of the bed he'd been sitting next to, forcing himself up onto his good leg and reaching for the crotchety old crutches as if he would be able to escape. She kept her lips pressed together and just watched him.

"What do you mean 'it was me', Daryl?" A sigh left her lips. He leaned into the crutch, his eyes defeated as he met her gaze. "You tellin' me we were pushed down a hill, rolled into an old barn, crushed by farm tools, and chased by redneck walkers while we limped home, all because you were too busy...looking at me?"

He heaved a slow, weighted breath, his eyes closing tightly at her recounting of their little... misadventure. He let his head hang. Incomprehensible words fumbled from his mouth.

"...What was that?" she spoke, her good arm pressing down onto the cot's mattress to help her stand onto her feet. The two injured survivors stared at one another as Daryl built the guts to say the words pressing against his closed lips.

"I said yes. I was looking at you, Fflur, I was staring... at you." He took a pause. "Haven't you noticed how stuck on you I am?"

Her heart couldn't take it; she was ready to implode. She wanted to embrace him, wanted to run from him, wanted to smack him, wanted to kiss him - all at once. But she was so conflicted that she simply stayed right where she was.

"You've got to be kidding me," she blurted, her good hand smacking against her bruised hip in disbelief, a grimace flying across her face almost immediately.

"I... I'm not, unfortunately." He stepped forward slowly, wincing as he let weight down on the leg that'd been impaled in their tumble down the hill. He chuckled softly as he came to a stop in front of her, their faces not too far apart. They both smelled terrible, but they ignored it - they'd both been waiting for this for a while.

"You idiot, you couldn't be bothered to tell me this months ago? I've been in love with you this whole godforsaken time and now you tell me we fell down Mt. Everest because you were lookin' at me." Frustration seeped from her skin, but her lips were in a wide, uncontrollable smile, her eyes staring up into his.

Their lips came closer, and closer, a breath barely separating them. Almost touching, after all this time they were finally going to-

"Hey, invalids! We're back. Come help with - what.. you can..." Rick's voice trailed off as he stood in the doorway of the cell. He pursed his lips awkwardly and nodded his head. "Right, well.. When you're done, just uhm.. Yep. Yeah." He turned on his heel and disappeared around the corner, and Daryl and Effy found themselves laughing into each other's lips without being able to stop.

The laughter grew bigger until they had their arms around each other, clutching tightly (save for Effy's poor broken arm, still pressed in its sling against her chest) to one another and breathing in the moment. The air was finally clear. Could they ask for anything more?

As they started to amble carefully out of the cell, hands held tightly together, Effy turned to glance at him, a grin widely spread across her lips. "So... you seriously didn't see him comin' at us.. Because of me?"

Daryl smiled, "Yes, Fee-Fee, I sure did." She shoved him at that, laughter flowing from their lips and echoing through the cells.

"It's Effy to you," she corrected. "Now c'mere." And she reached up - and just like that, pressed her lips to his, as if it had always been that way before.

And it always would be.