Daryl was angrily riding on the back of a horse. Angry at Shane, angry at Rick, angry at the prick that shot his baby sister, and very, very, angry at the world. It seemed that since the world had ended, Ellie had become its own personal punching bag. It was like it saw the good in her, and because of that, she became a target. He was also angry at himself for letting her go, for not throwing her over his shoulder and forcing her to go with him.
Lori rode on the other horse behind a girl named Maggie, and they had left Glenn in charge of making it back to the highway.
"Your dad a doctor?" Daryl shouted over the hooves beating against the ground.
Maggie paused, looking between him and the path ahead of her. "Something like that, yeah."
"Wait, Wait, what do you mean something like that?" Lori asked, worrying even more for her young friend.
"Believe me, he knows what he's doing!" The girl shouted before slowing down as they had arrived.
Daryl didn't even wait for the horse to stop before he jumped off, nearly landing on his face and then scrambling to run into the house. The closer he got, the more oxygen seemingly was being sucked from his lungs. As he stumbled into the room, he realized that there was absolutely nothing that could've ever prepared him for that feeling. It was far different from when he'd seen Merle's mutilated hand in a pool of his blood. This was far worse, because at least Merle was up and running. He'd never seen his sister look so... dead.
His heart dropped into the pits of his stomach as he stood in the doorway, tears welling up in his eyes as he stared at his sisters beaten, battered, and bruised body. He let this happen. His sister was in that make-shift hospital bed because he didn't know how to tell her one simple word; No.
"Are you Daryl?" Hershel asked as he held a pad against Ellie's wound. This was one of several that he had used on her.
Daryl nodded, unable to step into the room. His sisters once beautiful and lively face was now pale, and sunken in.
"Do you know her blood type?"
The brother shifted, nodding before clearing his throat to hoarsely say, "AB—uh—AB-positive."
Hershel sighed, "That's a relief. Get ready, we're going to need a transfusion as soon as possible—Patricia!"
"Wait, Wait, hold on, we don't got the same—"
"Her blood type is special, she can take blood from any blood type, now please, sit in that chair right there."
Daryl could've cried out in joy. He didn't have to be told twice as he rushed to the chair, pushing it closer to the bed. A woman came running in with tubes and needles, and Rick wasn't too far behind her. Daryl couldn't quite comprehend what he was seeing as he was looking over at his sister every other second, terrified that if he looked away for too long, she'd slip away. It seemed that every time she was out of his sight something threatened her life, and once she got out of this, he wasn't going to let it happen again. He didn't care if he had to tie her to his hip.
"You said she can take any blood type?" Rick began rolling his sleeve up, and Daryl's eyebrows furrowed.
"The hell are you still doin' here? We don't need yer help." The hunter glared, attempting to stay out of Hershel's way so that he could prep Ellie for the transfusion.
"I know, and I'm sorry. I-It's my fault, this is my wrong doing, so let me make it right." His eyes never once left Daryl's. "I have a debt to repay, so please, let me repay it."
Daryl didn't budge, his face radiating anger and hatred as he stuck his arm out for Hershel. The old man didn't have time to wait for the two men to come to a conclusion, besides, Daryl seemed pretty adamant anyway. So, Hershel began prepping Daryl's arm as quickly as he could.
"My family don't need nothin' from you." Daryl grunted. "Ya done enough."
Rick left the room feeling almost nauseous, and Shane's face said it all. He had been waiting just outside the room. He figured that would be Daryl's answer, because it would be his. In fact, he was shocked that the hunter hadn't pulled another knife on them. Just as the two men were going to exit, they heard moaning.
Fear seemingly engulfed all of them. Shane and Rick rushed to the door frame, both of their hands on their pieces as they looked directly at Ellie. They expected to see cloudy eyes, but instead, they were clear as day.
Daryl's stomach dropped once he realized she was conscious. She began screaming, a pain she'd never felt before, spreading throughout her body. As she yelled, Daryl flew to her. His eyes were the first thing that fully registered in her mind as she held onto her abdomen.
"Ellie, calm down!" Daryl desperately shouted as she cried. He had no idea what to do.
Her eyes squeezed shut and her teeth clenched as she tried to deal with the pain, but it felt like the more she tried to ignore it, the worse it felt. She felt like she was being branded, only, the heat was both not there and there. She couldn't distinguish the unbearable stinging from the feeling of fire.
"Daryl!" She choked out his name, as she cried like she would when she was a little girl, but all he could do was watch as Hershel stuck a needle in his arm.
Ellie and Daryl's eyes met for a second before they rolled back and her eyes closed, her body falling limp. Daryl saw the utter pain and fear, but just as he was about to yell at Hershel, the old man was already placing the other side of the needle into her arm.
"She needs blood before I can perform surgery, but I'm afraid..." the man trailed off, unsure of how to word this to the man beside him. The blood had begun to seep out of Daryl as his eyebrows furrowed in both anger and confusion.
"Yer afraid what?" He pressed.
Hershel paused a moment before sighing. "I'm afraid I won't be able to go through with it."
"Why the hell not?!"
"If she wakes up again like that while I'm operating...I could do more damage than good. Without a sedative I don't think she'll make it."
"So-So yer jus' gonna let her die? Y'ain't even gonna try?!" He shouted, the thought of losing his baby sister weighing so heavily he felt like his lungs and heart were being crushed simultaneously. That was his baby sister, his Ellie. Hell, he practically raised her. Seventeen years of life couldn't go down the drain because some man didn't think that Elliot Dixon could make it through a surgery. She was a Dixon, the name was supposed to be powerful, no one could kill a Dixon but a Dixon, it was fact. Hershel just had to give her a chance, that's all she needed. A chance.
It felt like the emotions he felt as a boy were tumbling down on him. The same emotions he felt when he lost his mom were beginning to show their old, dusty, ugly faces as he looked upon his dying kin.
"Wait!" A large man stepped in, Daryl's angry, teary, hateful eyes scaring him. He thought he'd lunge at Hershel or do something stupid. "There's gotta be somethin' we can do." His eyes were on Hershel. Pleading, begging with the old man to help him make what he did right.
Hershel sighed. "There's a FEMA shelter... it could have what I need."
"The one at the high school... it was overrun last I saw."
Daryl watched as the two strangers conspired, ready to do anything he could to save his baby sister.
"Give me a map, I'll go." The Dixon spoke sternly, but Hershel immediately shook his head.
"No, no I need you here. She already has your blood, I wouldn't risk giving her anyone else's, and she needs plenty more than the little bit she's received."
"I'll go." Rick stepped up, swallowing harshly. This was his chance to repay his debt, but he wasn't the only one with a debt to the teenager.
"Count me in," Shane immediately nodded, neither of them seeming willing to accept no for an answer.
Daryl wanted to scream, punch a will, pitch a fit—anything to get the emotions he was feeling out of his system, but he couldn't. He was well aware that they needed their help, he just didn't want to admit it. His sister was dying right in front of him, and he knew that he was going to have to set aside his pride if he wanted her to live.
"This ain't charity, Daryl," Deputy Walsh stepped up, his tone firm yet full of empathy. He understood. He would've rather stepped on nails than admit to needing a Dixon's help, and he knew how mutual that was. "We all owe her one way or another."
There was a long pause as Daryl stared at Ellie's pasty, soft, clammy skin. The longer they waited, the less of a chance she had.
The big brother sucked up his pride, literally. He inhaled quickly through his nose, willing away his pride and tears.
"Best get on with it then," He grumbled as he sat back down. "time's runnin' out for you to pay your dues."