Chapter Text
Day two of Daryl and Rick not saying a word to each other hits. Any tension that was there before their little talk increased tenfold, and now other people are starting to feel it. Daryl isn’t a talkative person, but him and Rick usually say hello and goodbye to each other throughout the day. None of that has happened the past two days. The only thing close to interacting with each other is looking at one another when the other man’s back is turned.
Rick feels anger, betrayal. But at the same time he still worries. It’s eating up him inside and he doesn’t know what to do or say to anyone.
But on the third night, Michonne speaks up to Rick while they’re getting ready for bed.
“Rick.” Michonne’s voice is soft, cautious.
“Hm?” He makes a noise in response, spitting out the water from brushing his teeth into the sink.
“What’s going on,” She asks. It’s a simple question that could relate to anything, but Rick knows exactly what she’s talking about. Yet, he plays dumb.
“What do you mean? Nothing. It’s fine.” His voice is clipped, frustrated.
“You know what I mean.” Michonne gets a more serious tone, her voice dropping an octave lower.
Rick sighs, and he washes off his toothbrush before placing it back in its holder. He turns to her, leaning on the sink behind him. He can already feel a headache coming on; pinching the bridge of his nose to try and stop it, but it’s no use.
“When we went to go drop of supplies to Negan, he stayed behind two times so far,” He explains, trying to stem his emotions. “I thought that bastard was hurting him, making him do things he didn’t want to do. I told you about how he was covered in bruises, teeth marks.”
“I remember.” Michonne nods.
“Ends up that he wasn’t forcing Daryl to do anything,” Rick sighs, looking up at his lover. She gives him a puzzled look for a moment, then everything clicks into place and she gets a mixture of emotions on her face that Rick can’t pinpoint what she’s feeling.
“Daryl fucked Negan,” Rick says crudely, and he hates how it sounds. Michonne can catch a hint of jealousy, but she puts it aside.
“I...shit.” Michonne can’t find the words to properly respond, running her hands through her dreadlocks, holding the back of her head.
“I don’t know what the hell he’s thinking.” Rick’s temper is starting to bubble to the surface, but his voice stays low. The last thing he wants is for Carl to hear him yelling about this and ask questions. Rick knows that other people in his group are starting to notice how he and Daryl are acting strange and avoiding each other, but he doesn’t know how to explain it to anyone else. He does, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to say it again. He doesn’t want to talk about it. But, again, he’s torn, because he wants to do something about it. All of these contradicting thoughts are making his headache even worse.
“I know this is an…odd situation.” Michonne tiptoes carefully around her words, speaking slowly. “But like I said before, he’d come to us if he really needed help. I know Daryl, you know Daryl. He keeps a lot of his problems and feelings to himself, but we’d know if he really was in danger.”
“But he killed Glenn! Right in front of us, Daryl saw it too, all of us watched!” Rick’s voice gets louder, but he’s not yelling just yet. He speaks in more of a frustrated whisper.
“You think I don’t know that?” Michonne gets an edge to her voice, narrowing her eyes. She leans forward slightly, her demeanor and aura changing to something darker. “I know what he did, I was there too, Rick. We all felt helpless. We couldn’t do anything to stop it or else he would have killed more of us.”
Rick breathes slowly through his nose, trying to calm himself down.
“I’m confused by this, too. I don’t know why he’d do this.” Michonne stares at the floor, thoughts rushing through her mind left and right too quick for her to find one thing and focus on it. She still has trouble finding the correct words to say, because there isn’t any. Nothing will console Rick right now, nothing will make him less irritated and as confused as she now feels.
“What if he kills Daryl?” Rick’s voice drips with worry. Michonne can sense fear in his voice, and she finds that she’d been thinking the same thing as well. Rick just brought it up for the both of them.
“I don’t know,” She says, shaking her head. She feels helpless all over again, because she knows, Rick knows, how many people Negan has on his side. They both know that they’d be overpowered if they tried anything against Negan himself. Even if they push as hard as they can and try their best to defend themselves, more bad will come out of it than good.
A silence stretches on for a few minutes, thick with tense emotion. The world around them seems to stop, and the world feels confined to the small bathroom.
“I should have killed him the first time he came here. Should have killed him with his own bat.” Rick regrets not doing it, but in the back of his mind he’s reminded, again, of how overpowered all of them are.
“Let’s just go to sleep,” Michonne says, carefully grabbing Rick’s hands. She sounds completely exhausted, all of the energy drained out of her from the conversation, of what she’d learned was happening. It’s too much to process, and usually she’d be ready to fight back and do something, but tonight felt different, this whole situation is tricky and different, that she doesn’t know exactly what to do or who to fight. She understands why Rick wants to kill Negan, she would herself if the opportunity represented itself. But Daryl is his own person, and she respects that. She doesn’t think he was forced, at least by Rick’s wording of it. She wants to hear it from Daryl herself, but the man is so closed off to everyone about talking about such things that she doubts that she’d get it out of him so easily.
“Alright.” Rick gives in, and he allows her to guide him to the bed; climbing under the covers and cuddling up to each other.
Michonne kisses Rick, resting her forehead against his.
“Just try and get some sleep,” She whispers. Rick sighs a quiet “okay” in response, holding her closer after she turns off the bedside lamp, leaving them engulfed in pitch black darkness.