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MURPHY TOOK IT UPON HERSELF to patch up Rick. After the whole ordeal with Pete, Deanna had demanded that Rick be taken to the cells for holding. Carl gave Murphy company as she cleaned and bandaged his father's wounds. Jessie refused to have her help, saying that she could do it herself. Murphy decided very quickly that it wasn't her job to help Pete with his injuries, since he was the one who started the altercation and he was a doctor himself. As she finished up her work with Rick, Michonne came down and insisted that Carl went home. It was late by then- after midnight- and it was time for everyone to get what rest they could.
Michonne volunteered to spend the night in the cell until Rick woke up, and Murphy objected until she quickly realized Michonne wasn't going anywhere. She brought Michonne a snack and some water for the long night, and took her leave. She stopped by the infirmary to check on Tara, who hadn't stirred from her unconscious state. Rosita told Murphy to go home and get some rest, and that she'd spend the night in the infirmary. Murphy wanted to argue, but she was so exhausted that she resorted to thanking her profusely and stumbled home.
But when she fell into the soft mattress of her bedroom, pajamas and all, she couldn't sleep. She couldn't. As much as she desperately tossed and turned to find a comfortable position, her body couldn't seem to want to rest. Her eyes were heavy but her mind was as awake as ever. She was beginning to grow worried for Daryl and Aaron. He said one night at most. It was supposed to be a day trip, but now they were running on two nights. She wondered if they were getting any rest... if they were hurt, or something worse. As that thought crossed her mind, she sat up in bed.
She leaned over to turn on the lamp that sat on her beside table. As soon as its warm glow brought the room to life, she let her eyes fall to the small glass that sat beside her. The purple wildflower had begun to droop, its life slowly fading from its broken stem. Murphy felt her heart race. It only furthered her worrying. If that flower reminded her of Daryl, if it gave her hope for when he would return, what would happen when it died? Sleep didn't come to her for the rest of the long night.
As soon as the sun began to rise, she hopped out of bed and speedily ate a small bowl of cereal for breakfast. She then made her way over to the infirmary to check on Tara, deciding that she would talk with Rick later. When she entered the house-turned-hospital, she noticed Rosita at the island, and Eugene sitting beside Tara, who was still out cold.
"Hey, guys," she muttered, exhaustion still lacing her voice as she closed the door behind her.
"Hey."
"Salutations."
Murphy sent Eugene a look, but she wasn't surprised at his choice of words. She took off her jacket and threw it over a nearby chair as she passed by Rosita, "How is she?"
