Same Love

25: Confusion

Sam heard shit going down outside but didn't bother to go and see what was going on, he was pre-occupied with helping the infected people. He was wearing a surgical mask that he'd picked up on a supply run and leather gloves given to him by Daryl. Time had passed since his breakdown and the council had decided that they needed medical supplies. Hershel told them of the nearby animal hospital. Sam worked diligently in the quarantine zone, only taking breaks when he felt close to collapse. This was one of those times and he sat on the ground, mask and gloves off, breathing in the beautiful clean air. He failed to notice Daryl coming up behind him and jumped slightly when he felt hands on his shoulders, thumbs rubbing small circles on his shoulder blades. He relaxed into the touch, questioning how one person could make him immediately less tense. Daryl set beside Sam who grabbed his hand, a sigh leaving his lips. Daryl hated to admit that their intertwined hands were comforting.

"Are you okay?" 

"Why wouldn't I be?" 

"You're holdin' onto my hand real tight" Daryl smirked and Sam loosened his grip with a small smile.

"Sorry. I'm just a bit stressed. With this disease going around I don't want any of us to die"

"Ya sure worry 'bout yourself, I don' want ya dyin' on me"

"I won't" Sam assured, his mind reeling. He was confused about all of this. Why was Daryl worried about him? Why was his heart beating at a million miles per hour? Sam's eyes didn't leave Daryl's face, inspecting every single line and Daryl was almost lost in those brown eyes that raked over every inch of his face but the sounds of people milling around stopped him from becoming bewitched.

"Am I allowed to worry about you?" Sam asked, his voice barely a whisper and Daryl also felt his heart speed up, sure the other man could hear it through his chest.

"Yeah" 

"We're heading out now, Daryl, you coming?" Tyreese approached the two, not realizing the proximity of their bodies or the intensity of their gazes. The black man's voice broke them both out of their daze.

"I'm comin'" He murmured and squeezed Sam's hand before following Rick to the car where the group was waiting. Sam waved goodbye to them as they left, feeling nervous as he did every time they left him behind. He returned to the sick zone, putting his gloves and mask back on and helping Hershel with the sick. He soon lost track of time but he knew night had fallen as he pumped air into a dying man's chest. He was tired and was worried about those out on the supply run. Hershel knew that the man was feeling the effects of his hard work and wanted to instruct Glenn to take over but he was needed elsewhere. Sasha took over from Sam when he grew fatigued and he settled for going and reading Lizzie a story. She relished in his paternal nature and eventually slept, the sound of his voice lulling her into a peaceful slumber. Rick called Sam over through the small window that barred off the cell and Sam followed the older man outside to the inner courtyard. Rick pulled Sam into a discreet area before beginning to talk.

"I need to tell you somethin' big" Rick said in a hushed tone and Sam nodded, the way things were going this was going to be a very tense conversation and he wasn't sure he was ready for such responsibility, though he knew Rick trusted him explicitly.

"shoot"

"Carol is the one who killed Karen and David" 

Rick paused and watched the younger man for a reaction only to be met with a sigh as he averted his eyes, unnerving Rick.

"I already knew. It was obvious to me. She's been wary around Tyreese"

"How is it that no one knows you really but you show so much concern for us?"

"I love the original group. No matter what, you're more accepting than my real family ever was and even in times of crisis you find a way of surviving. I will protect you all with my life"

Sam let a small smile grace his lips, corners upturning sweetly and Sasha who was watching him come back into the cell block became weak at the knees, her heart rate speeding up. She saw him as a strong figure that devoted his life to others, a very attractive man who had shown her nothing but kindness since she had fallen ill. It seemed that while he was distant, he was compassionate when you got to know him. She sat beside him when he entered, her eyes analysing his soft features. Stubble was beginning to grow on his chin, bright eyes staring deeply into space and tousled brown hair growing longer and longer by the day, falling messily over his eyes. He was pristinely clean again, as he usually was and Sasha found that unbelievable, how was he able to stay so neatly presented when he slaved away everyday outside, hunting and labouring tirelessly alone despite offers of help from others. She wondered why he was inside now with the sick.

The dream-like state that had enveloped the hunter dissipated into nothingness and the harsh aroma of blood reached him. Glenn's voice carried through the tombs and Hershel's followed yet the sounds of coughing and hacking were louder and the sullen words were indistinguishable. It was only when Sasha fell asleep that he realised he'd been holding onto her hand, clammy and damp with cold sweat, wrapped around his own for support. She looked so peaceful, so carefree and he wished she'd stay like this yet he knew it wasn't to be. Sam had no choice but to stay, hovering over the female with thoughts racing through his head, of Carol, of survival but one most important question. He had been putting it off for a while, though he wanted to never ask it.

What did he feel for Daryl? What were his real feelings? Did Daryl reciprocate whatever this feeling was?