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MURPHY COULDN'T SLEEP. She had barely gotten a wink in the weeks since the ordeal with the Savior women. Her eyes were as heavy as her heart. But each time her lids closed, she saw Chelle impaled... blood pooling around the blade as her eyes became lifeless. Murphy's own wound had healed rather nicely, thanks to Denise. While it still gave her pain, she was up and about. She hadn't spoken much to Carol or Maggie, as they were still recovering from trauma of their own. The three women were struggling. There was no doubt about that.
Sunlight streamed into the bedroom. Music from downstairs, no doubt Carl and Judith, wafted gently in the air. Murphy's cheek was buried into the pillow below her, but her eyes stared straight ahead. Daryl slept behind her, his face nuzzled into her short waves. His arm was locked tightly around her waist. Even in his sleep, he was careful around her wound. Although she could not rest, Murphy found comfort in his presence. She loved the feeling of his gentle breaths across her skin, his chest pressed against her back, his knees tucked behind her own... it felt like home.
Her mind was far away from home, however. It had been banished— cursed to roam the outskirts of the land until it was a mind no more. Or so Murphy felt. She knew her decision to kill was the right thing for her own self interest. She saw Daryl. She saw their child. She wanted to live so badly. But, she couldn't help but think that Chelle deserved a future as well. Murphy sighed. She didn't have any tears left to shed but she felt it so acutely in her heart. As if he could sense her distress, Daryl shifted behind her.
"Mornin', darlin'," his gravelly voice muttered.
He pushed himself up a bit and leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek. His scruff tickled Murphy's skin. She couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips, despite her internal struggle. She simply loved him too much to not feel what he always made her feel. Daryl kissed her cheek once more when she didn't reply.
"You get any sleep?" he continued.
Murphy shook her head. Daryl sighed. He had tried so desperately in these past weeks to help her. After he held her lifeless body in his arms and brought her back to life, he realized one thing. He always knew he couldn't cope if something happened to her. But seeing Murphy coated in her own blood, struggling for breath with tears in her eyes... Daryl realized he didn't want to live at all if she wasn't there with him. He couldn't live if he was on this Earth without her. So he pulled her closer against his chest and nestled his face against her neck.
She reached down for one of his hands that rested flat against her stomach, and brought it up to press a kiss upon its knuckles. When her lips left his skin, she interlocked their fingers and held his hand against her chest. She hadn't told Daryl about her vision. She was so tired— in more ways than one. She was tired of this pain. Murphy knew she would get through it, but she didn't know it would hurt this much. She supposed she just cared far too deeply.
