my tears ricochet

Chapter Thirty One

Ivy had tried negotiating her right to come with Daryl but he had refused, steadily growing louder the more that she pushed at the subject. The final result had been a cold line between the two of them with her storming off to the cell and laying down on the cot with her back to the room.

It had taken everything in him not to grab her and force some common sense into her brain.

He had given her a few minutes before coming in after her but she pretended like she couldn't hear Daryl.

"Kid's angry. Let her cool her heels," Oscar advised from where he straddled a chair, scribbling in letters into a crossword book Glenn had found for him. "She doesn't get it yet."

Daryl grunted as he walked by, bristling at the idea of someone telling him how to look after his daughter. It had been irritating enough knowing that Merle had been watching with amusement as they tore into each other over the subject, casually leaning himself against the cellblock gate as a spectator. "She can stay in there for all I care," he muttered. At some point he would have to have a parental kind of discussion but until then, he was happy if she wanted to lock herself up in the cell and pretend like he didn't exist.

If Ivy was in there, that meant she wasn't out on a suicide mission. That suited him just fine. She wouldn't be lost in the woods or on the side of the road for anyone to pluck up. Daryl could exist for five minutes without worrying that she'd be gone again when he wasn't looking.

Rick was in the little cafeteria with his pistol disassembled in front of him, cleaning each part with meticulous care. "Let's get going."

Daryl wanted to see Phillip in the honest daylight.

The man had finished taking the rag to the individual pieces and started assembling again, snapping each back into place with efficient moves. "We're taking Hershel with us."

Hershel hadn't left the prison since losing his leg. Daryl wasn't sure he was the best back up that they could afford in the moment. "You sure?"

"Can't bring Glenn. Michonne's a loose canon. Maggie's a good shot these days but I'd rather she stay here and keep an eye on the situation at hand."

Merle. Somehow it was always Merle.

Ivy had stonily refused to take any verbal bait from Merle and both she and Beth pretended like he didn't exist. Daryl sometimes caught his brother watching her from across the cellblock, keeping a bit of distance for the most part between him and her. Maggie didn't shy away from being frosty with the man, holding onto the same bitterness Daryl had in his chest. His brother had beaten her person and left him hurt. That did something, having to stand back and watch helplessly as a person recovered from it.

He had tried keeping distance when Ivy tore stitches open and had to get new ones, when she stormed around like she wasn't bruised all across her body with matching broken ribs. She wanted to pretend like someone hadn't hurt her and he had to accept it for the most part.

Maggie could handle Merle and Oscar was on hand, a second body to keep the situation from getting uglier. His grief over his friend had left him quiet, but the previous night at stirred something in him and brought him back to life, shifting through their food supply to bake canned peaches with granola, brown sugar and cinnamon. The sweetness had filled the air and brought everyone tight together, Beth singing.

It had been nice, sitting there. Daryl had been a loner his entire life but that night had caught something in his mind, allowing for light to settle across his shoulders to ease some of the burden. Ivy had even been at his side, laughing and talking like it was normal again. Afterwards Maggie had taken her and her sister aside and braided back their hair in a complex fashion, forming a pair of braids for each girl. Daryl had tried watching without being obvious about it and Maggie had slowed her hands down, showing the steady motion of fingers twisting curls, the design forming in seconds.