Different Worlds |Daryl Dixon Fan Fiction- The Walking Dead|

Twenty Three: Better

                   I woke up to an empty bed. I slid out from under the covers, and walked over to the window to peel back the curtains. By the looks of it, it was almost noon, meaning I'd slept in way too long. I grabbed my clothes from the day before, and headed to Daryl and I's room. The door was more open than it had been the night before, but I still hesitated before pushing it all the way.
The room was filled with the suns rays, but still the large figure under the sheets breathed steadily, fast asleep. I looked around before fully entering the room, seeing the pile of dirty, blood stained clothes, accompanied by blood stained blankets and towels. Of course, the bed must have been changed after they'd cleaned him up. My things were untouched, still sitting in a pile of boxes. I quietly tipped toed over, tossing my clothes with the dirty ones, and gathering a new outfit, consisting of black jeans and a white, slouching t-shirt.
I completely stripped down, depending on my quietness and Daryl's tiredness to keep him asleep. I put on a new pair of underwear and a matching bra, then slid on the shirt and pants. I looked out of the window, seeing my mother and Carol gardening, deep in conversation. I could only guess they were talking about the man in a deep sleep behind me.
I turned around, Daryl's back facing towards me. I longed to crawl in behind him, hold him close so he didn't have to wake up alone. I knew that would wake him up, though, as he was so used to being on high alert. I couldn't resist walking softly around the bed, though, and taking a look at his face.
It was peaceful, though scratched to hell. His right hand clutched the blanket, the very last finger shorter than normal, bandaged up. His hair was clean and swept out of his face, tucked behind his ear. His shoulder was bandaged, the bandage slightly stained through. I hadn't noticed much on the little bit of his back that was showing but scratches. I let out my sigh quietly and slowly, almost frustrated that I couldn't stay in the room and take care of him.
I left silently, heading downstairs. I grabbed something small to eat, the headed outside to tell Carol and Mom that one of his bandages looked like it should be changed. Carol decided to go do it, and I helped my mother bring in the things they had picked. We washed them and put them in the pantry, then I headed back outside to try and keep busy.
I went through chore after chore, and helped others when I ran out of things to do. By supper, there was still no word from Daryl, whether he was awake, or if he wanted to see me. I wondered why he wasn't asking for me. Maybe he was just really tired? I shook my head as I sat with Michonne to eat.
"You know," Michonne began, chewing her food, "I've known Daryl for quite some time, and I've never seen him act like this with anyone." I smiled at her words, they were reassuring.
"Thank you," I responded, getting up to pour us each some water.
She took her drink with a smile, then continued to eat. I thought for a moment, wondering what to say to her. I had to admit I didn't have anything interesting to tell her, as most of my thoughts were focused on Daryl at the moment.
Michonne looked up at me with a small smirk playing on her lips, "What?" I asked.
"I just can't forget the look on your face every time Daryl gets hurt. It's always the same." I chuckled, nodding.
"You should see the look on Rick's face when you talk," I blurted.
"What?" Michonne raised an eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes, grabbing our dishes to put them in the sink. "Don't act dumb," I looked over my shoulder, "he looks at you like you could be the mother of his children. Of course, you aren't, I heard about the woman who was. However, that doesn't mean he can't find love again." Michonne genuinely looked taken aback by this information.
"You think Rick likes me?" I nodded, and we both started to walk outside.
"I think he has for awhile. It was you two stuck together after the prison, right? Maybe that's when it happened. You seem pretty close to Carl, you act like best friends."
Michonne shook her head, shrugging her shoulders. "Maybe he does, but I just don't think it'd work. I'd be devastated if he died right now, imagine if we let ourselves get any closer? It'd be-"
"Painful." I finished, touching her arm. "I know, it's hard to let yourself succumb to something like that in a world like this, but I feel as though it can also make us stronger." I parted ways with the katana wielding woman, leaving her to her thoughts.
I brought the horses in from pasture, putting them into their stalls for the night. I watched from the doors of the large red building as people started to finish up their days work, and head indoors. Rick was outside, walking around, checking the fences as usual. Glenn and Maggie came back from a scavenge of the nearby houses, heading straight inside with the things they got. I walked out to the car, grabbing whatever was left that they hadn't been able to carry, and went inside with them.
I'd been sitting in the living room with everyone else when my mother came down the stairs, dirty bandages in her hands. She looked at me and gave a small nod up the stairs. My heart leaped into my throat, did he finally want to see me? I sprung off of the couch, to many peoples surprise, and bounded up the stairs without giving an explanation. I had to keep myself from running down the hall, and control my shaking limbs as I opened the door and wobbled inside.
Daryl had a shirt on now, and was sitting up. He didn't have to look up when I walked in, it seemed like he'd been staring at the door since my mother walked out. A small smile stretched his lips, and he slowly lifted his arms from under the blanket and motioned his two hands for me to come closer. The motion was so stiff, that if you couldn't see his face, you would've thought he was reluctant to do it.
My shaking didn't seize as I came to the side of his bed, and he snatched my hand up in his own. I smiled like a dork, hardly even squeezing his hand since I was scared I'd hurt him. Four and a half fingers held onto my hand, and he pulled on me slightly to get me to sit down.
"How are you feeling?" I asked softly, looking at his still smiling face.
"A lot better now that I've slept through most of the day." There was a soft chuckle to his words, and I giggled. "I wanted to wait, wait until I was looking a bit better for you to see me."
"Why?" I asked, my eyebrows coming together.
"I saw myself when they were stitching me up. It was gross. Even after they washed me down, I was a mess. I know you came in this morning to get clothes, since all of your stuff is in here. I was hoping I would've woke up before you, come wake you up. I was passed out, though."
"Daryl, that wouldn't have- I wanted so badly to come up here."
"I didn't want you to cry, because I would if I saw you like this." My lip quivered at his words, and I shook my head.
"I did cry, Daryl. I came home to people telling me you'd been attacked, and that you'd been all alone, and you almost died. I was so scared. No one would tell me anything for a while." I admitted, my throat getting that sore feeling again.
Daryl open his arms, letting me slide down next to him. He held onto me, and slid down to a more comfortable position. Although I had been comfortable last night, it didn't compare to the feeling I had laying with Daryl. I instantly felt comfortable, safe, and warm. I hoped he felt the same, and a part of me felt as though he really did.
We didn't say much, just laid in peace. Finally, Daryl spoke up in his raspy voice that I took so much comfort in hearing again. "You'll need to hunt again," he told me, rubbing my arm, "until I get a bit better."
"I miss when we used to hunt together."
"Me, too. We can soon. As soon as your mom will let me." There was a hint of a laugh in his words, causing me to smile.
"Definitely."
"I heard your dad gave me blood," Daryl mumbled, "I thought he didn't like me."
I shook my head softly, not wanting to press too hard on his chest. "I think he's grown to like you, especially because of everything you've done for me."
Daryl didn't say anything, because there was no being modest this time. It was true. I hated to admit it, but most of the time it was him who saved me. Sure, I'd helped him, too. Not nearly as many times, but at least we helped each other out. That's how it had to be now, you couldn't make it on your own anymore.
I got up, realizing that it had gotten very dark outside. "I should go now," I smiled, squeezing his hand lightly, "you need to rest." He didn't let go, sudden sadness masking his wonderful face.
"You can stay tonight." Daryl offered.
"I don't want to risk kicking you or anything in my sleep. As much as I'd love to stay, I think it's better if you heal up." I leaned down, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek.
"But-"
"I have night watch anyways," I added. I really didn't, but it was for his own good. I knew I didn't sleep still, and the last thing I needed to do was break his stitches or something.
Daryl look disgruntled, "Fine, but one more thing." He motioned for me to lower down, so I did, and he caught a kiss on my lips. It was soft and gentle, yet still filled with passion. We pulled apart, and I felt my face begin to heat up.
"Alright, alright, good night." I grinned, turning around to hide my blush.
"G'night, Grace." I shut the door behind me, then walked downstairs to see that everyone else was settled for the night.