The Dixon Bloodline

Chapter Eleven

The next morning Dad insisted all too quickly that he no longer needed to recuperate inside the house, claiming that he would be just fine in his tent, and allowing Shawn to have his bedroom back. I was the one to assist him back to the tent, even if it was just a small injury he had from the wound on his side - his head injury was fine for a walk. Dad was laying on his sleeping bag on the other side of the tent, while I lay flat on my stomach on top of mine. I had spent the last hour or so after getting Dad back to the tent updating and flipping through my journal, making sure everything was up to date, and I didn't miss any details leaving my recounts as accurate as possible from my standpoint. Dad was fiddling with one of the bolts of his crossbow, his elbows propped up underneath him, as he - not so subtly - kept trying to raise himself, attempting to read the words written out on the page before me.

"You know..." I muttered, catching his attention fully as he looked towards my form. Turning my head, I locked eyes with Dad, before finishing my thought. "You could read a book, instead of trying to 'secretly' read my journal from across the tent."

Dad gave a little chuckle, a small smile forming on his face as he leaned back into the sleeping bag beneath him. "Naw," he mumbled, shaking his head gently. "There's no better author than ya, if I'm going to read anything in the first place, I would much rather read yours."

"Considering the times, that just might be true," I spoke, responding to the first part of Dad's words, but not touching on the second bit of that subject as I caught Dad off guard. The surprise was evident on his face as he looked over me, giving a small sigh, messing up my hair before he laid back down.

"I always thought your writing was the best, with or without the dead walking," he mumbled after a moment, getting my gaze to turn towards his laying form once more. As I went to speak, Dad cut me off, already knowing what I was going to say. "Nah, Sap, I'm not just saying that 'cause I'm your dad,"

"How did-" I began, once again getting cut off by Dad as he answered my question before I even got close to finishing.

"I know ya better than ya know ya damn self." Dad mumbled, "I would hope so, considering how long I've known ya, it's almost like I raised ya or something," he added, getting a smile and giggle from me in return. A smile spread across his face in turn at what I'm assuming was my laugh, his ice-blue gaze falling onto my form as he turned onto his good side.

"I love you, Dad."

"Love ya too, Sapling."

----

Dad and I remained in the tent for the next half an hour or so, the conversation dying down, leaving us to entertain ourselves with our own devices. Though when Rick showed up, expecting me to be ready for gun training, I was left rather confused as my gaze fell onto Dad.

"Right, I forgot to tell ya," Dad muttered, sitting up slightly. "I would have taken ya myself, but with the recent events, going with Rick and learning some gun safety wouldn't hurt a bit. Give ya some practice."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay here with you, and help you out?" I questioned Dad, worried for his side and being away from him for a while.

"I'll live." He assured me, giving a small nod to Rick as the Sherriff waited patiently for me to make my way out of the tent, despite how hesitant I was.