SHELTER | DIXON

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"What the hell are ya doin'?"

She paused her movements and glanced up at the redneck, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his sudden question. "I'm checking your stitches. We've already been over that." 

It was the next morning, and Madison had made her way to Daryl's tent after a long and heated discussion with Maggie about the walkers in the barn. She had wanted to make sure he didn't tear any more stitches, as well as find something to distract herself.

"I ain't talkin' 'bout that," Daryl grunted. When Madison simply stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate, he pursed his lips and revealed, "Dale came to talk to me last night."

"That's nice. Did you have a heart-to-heart and reminisce on the good old days?" She drawled sarcastically.

Daryl glowered at her and smacked her hands away from him so that she'd focus on what he was trying to say to her. "Don't pretend like ya don't know what we talked about. What the hell were you thinkin', steppin' up to Shane like you did?"

She huffed in annoyance. "I was thinking that I'm tired of him walking around like he's some sort of saint. I was thinking that I can't stand that bastard after what he did to Otis, and how he's trying to justify it to himself. I was thinking that there was no way in hell I could just stand by while he flat-out threatened Dale to his face!"

"Yeah? Well, now he's threatened you, too!" Daryl shouted at her. "This ain't some game, Mads! You can't just go 'round steppin' up to psychotic men like yer invincible!"

"I can look after myself, Dixon."

"I say the same damn shit, and yet here ya are. Lookin' out for me," Daryl gestured to the new dressing in her hand, which she had just been about to place over his stitches after having discarded the old one. "So I don't wanna hear yer shit just 'cause returnin' the favor."

Madison scoffed in disbelief. "Returning the favor?" She stood to her feet and threw the clean dressing at him. Daryl caught it by reflex. "You can put the damn dressing on yourself. Believe me, I don't need any favors from some stupid redneck like you."

"Goddammit, woman!" Daryl grunted as he stumbled to his feet and quickly reached for her arm before she could leave his tent, hissing as the movement pulled at his stitches, but mercifully didn't tear them. "What's yer problem?"

Madison whirled back around to look at him. "My problem is that you have the fucking nerve to act like I'm only looking out for you because I'm hoping you'll do something for me in return," she snapped at him. "I'm not that kind of person, Daryl. I don't have any ulterior motives and I sure as shit don't need you to do anything for me. I'm trying to take care of you because I care about you, and I already told you that, so I don't know why the hell you―"

"Well has it ever occurred to ya that maybe I'm tryin' to look out for you 'cus I care 'bout you, too?" Daryl cut her off angrily, staring her down evenly. "Or do you not think anyone cares 'bout whether or not yer okay, too?"

Her gaze narrowed. "Don't do that. Don't try to throw my words in my face."

"I ain't throwin' 'em in yer face, Mads, I'm askin' you a question."

Madison pulled her arm out of his grip stubbornly. "What the hell do you want from me, Daryl?"

"I want you to be smart. And safe," he responded, meeting her gaze evenly. "I want you to stay away from Shane no matter what, and I want ya to come tell me if he so much as even tries to bother you. 'Cus goddammit, I'll kill that bastard myself before I let him hurt you."