𝐆𝐎𝐃'𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 - 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍

twenty-five - "to kill an innocent"

"That doesn't look good." Madeline sighed, wondering what happened.

"Must've ran into some trouble, found out something they didn't know before." Daryl answered, tossing a can of green beans into the air before catching it.

"Great, just what we need." Madeline sighed, hissing as she shifted on the step. Daryl looked at her then, raising a brow. "Bruised a rib or something when I fell, I'm fine."

"You gonna tell anyone about that?" Daryl asked, jerking his head towards Emily and Issac who were hanging clothes together.

"Why would I, it'll only worry them. Plus, I'm fine." Madeline sighed, standing up. "I'm gonna take some of these supplies to Hershel, help him restock his kits. You alright taking the rest to the RV? You can grab some for your packs too if you want." Daryl only nodded, watching as the door swung shut behind her.

Once he had finished carrying all of the goods to the RV and helping Carol put them away, he heard his name being called. He turned, stiffening slightly when he saw Shane jogging over to him.

"Yeah?" He responded, on edge and confused. He hiked his bow up further onto his shoulder, staring at the former officer.

"Can you throw a punch?" Shane asked, to which Daryl simply nodded. "Great, follow me."

─────

"You sure know how to make a first impression, Dixon."

Daryl just snorted, opening the door to the barn for her. She walked in, carrying the first aid box with her. Randall sat in the corner, his hands and feet tied together. His blindfold was removed, and his eyes snapped up to meet hers as soon as she walked in.

She could faintly hear Daryl's name being called back at the main camp, his head snapping to the side to look who it is. "I'm good, Dixon, I'll be fine alone while you go check what they want." Daryl left after hesitating, only going once she pushed him out of the threshold. She left the door open, however, the thought of being enclosed with a stranger not very appealing.

She kneeled down, trying to disregard his consistent stare, grabbing the hydrogen peroxide from her box. She began cleaning his wounds, the silence deafening. He hissed as she cleaned a few deeper cuts, but he recovered quickly. She rebandaged his leg, Daryl having ripping off the gauze to pressure him into answering the group's questions. She turned her head, grabbing out some ointment to apply to them so they don't get infected when she heard him chuckle. She looked back at him, narrowing her eyes.

"What's funny?" She asked, holding his stare.

"Nothing, it's just I recognize you." Madeline furrowed her brows, confused. "Or should I say, I recognize your hands. You're the person that mended my leg." She barely nodded, a shiver going down her spine. "I tried to picture what you could look like in my head, I was right for the most part. Pretty, helpless looking. I pictured you short though, you must just have small hands."

"Sorry to disappoint." She bit out, pushing herself up to her feet. She took a step back, her back hitting one of the wooden columns that held the loft up.

"The men in your group, they're hardasses. That redneck nearly stabbed my leg. Broke my nose."

"I'll put a complaint in, management will handle him."