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

Eighteen: Blame

                I slouched in the couch next to Daryl. He had fallen asleep, which was a great sign. He didn't look so pale and he wasn't so restless. I, on the other hand, was struggling to keep my own eyes open. I didn't want to fall asleep, just in case Daryl woke up and needed something. Of course I couldn't get him anything, since I was also hooked up, but there was a possibility I could do something.
I didn't end up fighting off sleep. I woke up to quiet chatting and the clatter of a plate being set down on the table next to me. I shot up, my hand flying for my handgun that was still in it's holster. "It's just me, sweetie." My mom soothed, grabbing my arm instinctively. My mouth formed an 'o' shape and I slowly put my hand back into my lap. I steadied my breathing, looking between Daryl and Mom.
"What's going on?" I asked. My mother set a plate in my lap, the usual nutritious breakfast. I smiled and grabbed the fork to dig in, turning to see Daryl was already halfway done with his own.
"Nothing, I must have just startled you." Mom smiled before leaving the room. I hadn't realized how jumpy I'd become.
"She said you can probably get up today." Daryl spoke up, and I turned in my chair to face him.
"Yeah?" I asked, raising a brow. Why would Daryl bother to ask that? He probably just wanted to get up himself.
"Yeah. And I might be able to get up soon, too." He grunted to sit up straighter. I caught a glimpse of the bruises and the actual wound of the gun shot on his side. I immediately lost my appetite, not because it looked gross; it really didn't, it looked much healthier, but because of the reminder it gave me of the previous day. "Shit." He abandoned his own food for a second to pull the blanket up. I gave him a small smile as I set my plate on the coffee table.
"So," I made to change the topic of conversation. I couldn't help but feel a bit of guilt for him being shot. I had asked him to come along with me to find them, and I had been too distracted to watch our back. Not to mention I could've done more than duck, I could've covered him. I could've shot the man instead of taking cover.
"Stop." Daryl shook his head. He seemed to be able to read my expression as I stared at him.
"What?" I snapped out of my thoughts, focusing back onto the man in front of me.
"You did what you could. I could've done more." I couldn't believe that he was blaming himself.
"You were wounded." I countered, glaring at him. "I wasn't." I had never wanted to leave the room as I did now, but I couldn't. I had to help the man I'd let down. Even if this didn't make up for it, it was something.
"Grace..." Daryl trailed off, staring into my eyes. I shook my head, looking down into my lap. Daryl made to move, but Rick came in with Judith. He looked at the two of us with a smile, standing where he was.
"How's it?" He asked, looking between us.
"He's almost ready to get back on his feet." I answered. I smiled at Judith, waving at her with extra enthusiasm. She made a tiny motion to wave back, and I couldn't help but grin.
"Sounds good." with that, Rick left and Mom emerged from the kitchen. She nodded to herself, grabbing a piece of gauze and tape. She slid the needle out of my arm and put the gauze in it's place. I shook it and stood up, grabbing a hold of the chair. It was obvious I needed to take it easy, I'd been sitting for so long now, and giving someone else blood the whole time.
"Take it easy." Daryl made to move, but my mother put a protective hand out to stop him.
"Take your own advice." Mom smirked down at him and he just chuckled before laying back.
"Just let me know if you need anymore, or anything, really." I told my mother before leaving to go outside. The sun felt splendid on my skin and I welcomed the soft breeze that ruffled my hair. At the sound of the door, Carl looked over from feeding my dogs. His smile widened at the sight of me, and both of the dogs came running at me. They ran in circles whining and barking.
"How's Daryl?" Carl asked, patting Mattie on the head.
"He'll live." I smiled, hugging Barnie around his huge neck. He gave a couple kisses and I stood up, looking over the yard. Everyone was busy at work, either patrolling the fences, gardening, or tending to the livestock. Everything seemed to be back in order.
"What about you?" Carl asked unexpectedly. He looked at me, his eyes squinted against the sun.
"I'm fine, why?" I quirked an eyebrow.
"You're just really pale." He smiled. I laughed, shrugging. Twas to be expected after giving so much blood.
"Shut up and get back to work." I commanded in a playful manor. Carl fake saluted me before rounding up the two dogs and walking off with them. I turned back towards the house, and I could just see Daryl looking out the window at me while my mom tended to something. I quickly looked away and started walking in the other direction. I really didn't want to speak to him right now.
I made busy by going into the barn and checking on the horses. With the recent attack there could've been someone in here, and they could've easily tampered with Queen while we were gone. Not to mention the possible shock of all of the gunfire. The barn was a bit of a mess, and I suspected there must have been a tousle in here. Also, when Daryl and I got home, trying to herd Boot and Thunder in here quickly would've caused some disturbance.
"Hey boy." I cooed, stroking Boots neck. I moved a few things around, tidying up a bit. I put my saddle in it's rightful place, it's been sloppily tossed aside in the rush. I checked to make sure the horses had food and water, giving them each a special treat from the palm of my hand. They all seemed alright, then again they didn't understand what was really happening. Or maybe they did?