Chapter Text
Getting bit doesn’t hurt nearly as much as getting shot. That was the first thought in Rick’s head as he laid in the grass, blood pouring from his mangled neck. His next thought was Judith - her tiny, toddler body ripped open, her beautiful blonde curls stained red. Then Michonne, his beautiful de facto wife, her skull blown to pieces. Then, the others. Faces appeared in his mind like a montage, their eyes wide open and unseeing. Everyone was gone, brutally and horrifically.
The attack by the Outlaws had been a complete surprise. With Negan locked away, life between the Coalition had been peaceful. They were collaborating, working together to not just survive, but thrive. It had been going so well. Maybe they got too comfortable, let their guards down too far. Now it was too late. The Outlaws had ambushed them in the middle of the night, crashing through their walls with trucks full of walkers. Alexandria hadn’t stood a chance. They’d fought anyway, of course. None of them were willing to go down easily. In the end, though, Alexandria fell.
And so, there Rick lay, bitten and dying. He stared up at the blurry stars twinkling in the dark. Wetness tickled his ear and he reached up to wipe it away. A glance at his fingers explained the blur in his vision. Tears. He let his arm fall limply at his side, exhaustion setting in as he let himself cry. He’d worked so hard, done so many things he regretted, all for the sake of keeping his family alive. And yet, he’d failed. He could hear their cries, their screams for help, for him.
Rick!
Rick!
He could feel their hands on his shoulders. His body shook with grief as more tears escaped.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked out, eyes closed and body limp.
“Rick!” Rick’s body shook even harder. “Rick, c’mon man!”
Groggily, Rick opened his eyes. A blurry face hovered over him, close enough that he could feel their breath. He blinked, trying to raise an arm to wipe away the tears clouding his vision, but his limbs remained stubbornly on the ground. The face seemed to understand, though, and a hand came up, wiping at his right eye first, then the left. With his vision clear he looked back up at the face, and a fresh wave of tears immediately replaced the ones that had just been wiped away.
“Daryl,” he sobbed.
“’T’s okay, Rick,” Daryl told him with a matching wetness in his eyes. “Not yer fault, ya did ‘verythin’ ya could.”
“Are you bit?” Rick asked, terrified of the answer. Daryl had to live. If no one else lived, Daryl had to. Daryl didn’t respond, and that was response enough. Rick let out another sob, eyes screwing shut as he shook his head. “No, you can’t die. Not you.”
“’T’s okay,” Daryl repeated. Rick looked up at him incredulously, but Daryl just continued. “Don’ wanna live if yer all gone ‘nyway.”
And damn if that wasn’t a punch to Rick’s heart.
“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” Rick said remorsefully. Daryl gave him a sad smile, hand coming up to rest against Rick’s cheek.
“I know,” he replied. “Nobody blames ya, Rick. Ya tried yer best.”
Rick didn’t believe him, but he figured now wasn’t the time for arguments. Instead, he brought a hand up to his side, fingers wrapping around the grip of his trusty Colt Python. With shaky hands he pulled it from it’s holster and held it out to Daryl. Daryl took it, his warm hand wrapping around Rick’s for just a moment before moving to hold the grip. Their eyes met in silent understanding and Daryl nodded, tears falling faster as he checked the cylinder for bullets.
“Two left,” Daryl huffed a laugh. “Ain’t tha’ some destiny type bullshit.”
Rick laughed with him. Destiny, fate, coincidence; whatever it was, Rick didn’t care. All that mattered now was that Daryl was there. He didn’t get to say goodbye to anyone else, but he could say goodbye to Daryl. He could make their last moments count.
“Y’know,” he said, voice strangled from the effort of speaking. He kept going, needing to say his piece. “I thought you were just a hotheaded redneck at first.”
“I was a hotheaded redneck,” Daryl pointed out. “Still am.”
“But that’s not all ya are,” Rick argued. “I didn’t see it at first, but then after the farm fell I started to see you for you. You’re strong, resourceful, and damn loyal. For a while every time you left I half expected you to never come back. But you did, every single time. You always came back to me.”
“Yer a good leader,” Daryl said. “An’ ya made ‘veryone around ya feel like they, y’know, mattered. Ain’t a lotta people who ever made me feel like tha’.”
“You do matter, Daryl,” Rick asserted. “You matter a hell of a lot. It’s been a goddamn honor havin’ you by my side through all of this. There’s a lot about the last few years I would’ve done different, but bein’ next you ain’t one of ‘em.”
“C’mon man, ain’t I tell ya I don’ like tha’ sappy shit,” Daryl grumbled, but the tears streaming down his cheek told a different story. He wiped them away, shaking his head as he looked down at the Colt in his hand, then back at Rick. “Y’know I ain’t good with words an’ shit, but I gotta say it before I do this.” He paused, taking a shaky breath in preparation. “Ya matter to me too, Rick. More’n you know. If I didn’ meet ya, if ya hadn’t believed in me, I…”
He trailed off, and Rick nodded his understanding. “I know,” he assured Daryl, a new wave of tears spilling from his eyes. “I know, and it’s the same for me. I dunno where I’d have ended up, but it wouldn’t have been anywhere good.”
With the last bit of strength Rick had left, he brought a hand up to cover Daryl’s where it was wrapped around the grip of the Colt. Their gazes met and they took a moment to just sit together, shoulders shaking with sobs as their tears fell. Eventually, Rick’s hand fell away, unable to hold it up any longer. His energy was completely drained, his eyes heavy as he struggled to keep them open, to keep looking at Daryl. He didn’t want to look away yet. It was time, though. Rick could feel it, like the life had been sucked out of him.
“Do it now,” he choked out. “Don’t want it to be the bite. Want it to be you.”
“I’ll go right after,” Daryl promised. Rick nodded. Daryl took a deep breath and pressed the barrel of the Colt against Rick’s temple.
“See you on the other side,” Rick said, letting his eyes slip closed.
Daryl didn’t reply. He squeezed his eyes closed, moved his finger to the trigger, and pulled.