"No!" Rick cried out at the top of his lungs.
Willow nearly threw herself onto the ground to attend to Daryl. Her hand rests on his moving chest as he groans in pain. Everything within Willow fights to keep herself from crying. His motionless body too much for her to handle. She watched as his trembling hand touches his temple where the bullet scrapped a nice chunk of his skin just at the edge of his hairline.
"Daryl, " Willow whispered lowly, removing his hand from the wound. With wild eyes, she glosses over his filthy body, noticing blood trickle from underneath the once crisp long sleeve shirt wrapped just above his waist. There is so much blood covering his flesh, Willow can't determine what truly happened.
Removing her eyes from the blood, she gawks down at a handmade necklace. Human ears attached around a single shoelace. The Sharktooth necklace gone, replaced with this.
"What the hell happened?" Willow spoke to herself whilst cradling the side of his face.
A hand snatch at her elbow, moving her roughly to the side. Willow is stunned but recovers quickly, glaring towards Shane. He and Rick pull Daryl up from the ground, wrapping each arm around their necks.
"I was kiddin', " Daryl says in a weak tone before passing out.
Willow stumbles to her feet with damp eyes, unable to keep her emotions in check once his body completely becomes limp. "Daryl, " Willow's voice cracked, the fear of losing him too overbearing.
"Oh my, God!" Andrea's voice gasped from a few feet away as she ran down the field.
Just the sound of her sobbing voice cause Willow to grow irritable and impulsive. In rage, Willow moved past Shane to reach Andrea. Tears rolled down her cheeks as her feet crunch the grass underneath her boots. In a swift motion, Willow swats her hand forward, slapping Andrea across the cheek.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Willow practically screams as Glenn attempts to take ahold of her arm, but he is powerless to stop Willow.
"Hunter! No!" Rick spat, unable to stop what is unfolding before him.
"I'm -" Andrea held her cheek, shocked. She didn't think anyone would have the nerve to hit her. Not anyone from camp. Especially not Willow. "I'm sorry. Is he dead? Did I -"
"No! But you could have! Do you ever listen, Andrea? Do you ever think before doing something you're told not to do?" With every word, Willow's voice grew louder. "You want to prove yourself so bad, huh? So do I but I'm not going around shooting people! Listen to orders, or so help me God -"
Before anything else could be said, Dale pushes himself in between the two women. He held out his hand towards Willow, giving her a very fatherly type look. Andrea is silent, attempting to process the aggression coming from Hunter. This wasn't the woman she met back on the road. This woman is demanding and quite intimidating.
"Willow, that is enough," Rick growled.
Letting out a huff, Willow snaps her head back towards Rick, Shane, and Daryl's motionless body.
"He's unconscious, " Rick breathed. "You just grazed him."
Walking backward, Willow watch Daryl's head bob up and down. His hair a tangled mess. Dirty and wild.
"But look at him, " Glenn points his pickax at Daryl. Willow wanders around the three men and took Daryl's heavy crossbow from out his loose grasp. "What the hell happened?"
Willow carefully swings the strap of the crossbow onto her shoulders. Adjusting the weapon so it wouldn't bump into her quiver or dig into the middle of her back.
"He's wearing ears!" Glenn exclaims.
Rick bites his bottom lip, winking his eyes towards the others who busted down the fields to see what the commotion was all about. Hershel stood just shy from the wooden fence, looking on. His white hair rustled in the cool wind. With his free hand, Rick reaches for the ear necklace and snatched the cheap shoelace from around Daryl's neck. Shoving it deep into his shirt pocket.
"Let's keep that to ourselves."
"Guys, ain't this Sophia's?" T-Dog calls out.
The group snaps their heads back at the bald man. He held what looked like a worn-out rag doll. The same rag doll Sophia cradled before Willow left her back at that creek.
***
"Maybe you should sit down, " Dale sat beside Jodie on the sofa in the Greene's living area. "Remember, your leg."
The aroma of food teased their nostrils. The last time any of them had a decent meal was back at the CDC. Edwin was gracious enough to open his fridge to his guest. Though, the end results only meant he didn't care.
While Hershel, Rick, and Shane worked on Daryl; Willow is forced to wait for any news. She paces back and forth in front of Jodie and Dale with Sophia's rag doll underneath her arms. The others went back to business, while they waited for any news.
The other woman continued with their cooking and preparations. Glenn and T-Dog went back to their chores. And every once a while, Willow will pass the window to see Andrea back on the RV.
She wanted to call out Andrea again with every glance. This outrages emotion made all the respect she held for Andrea fly right out the door. If Dale wasn't there to stop her from doing anything else, fist might have flown.
"Will, sit. There is no point in working yourself up like this, " Jodie pat the empty space next to her. With a sigh, Willow sat beside her sister with a frown.
"How can we just sit here?" Willow spoke swiftly, glaring down at the filthy rag doll.
"There isn't much we can do right now, " Dale admits, twisting his fishing hat between his hands. "Just about all our strong folks are down and everyone else is on edge after Daryl."
"Me and Glenn could go out. I mean, tomorrow we can go back to the highway. Check it out." Volunteers Jodie, tapping the end of her bat against her sneakers.
That's right. The highway still could be a chance. Sophia could have managed to make it back for all they knew. Willow wasn't totally against it. Jodie needed to go out and learn how to deal with the world without Willow holding her hand. It's a logical choice.
With a tray of three large glasses of lemonade, Carol shyly places the refreshments onto the table resting in the middle of the living area. Dale is the first to snatch up a glass, thanking Carol before taking a small sip. As Carol nods her head at Dale, her silver eyes fall onto Willow. The two women gaze at the other until Willow held out the doll.
"I'm sure Sophia will want it back once she is here, " Willow simply says.
The guilt for Sophia still sat on Willow's shoulders. At the end of the day, she couldn't blame anyone else but herself. If she had taken a different route, Sophia might be here now. Carol barely spoke to Willow since after the highway and Willow always kept her distance, but for how long can this go on?
Something needed to be done.
Carol took the doll with a small smile, brushing dirt off of the face. Her eyes reflect a hint of sadness, however, she swallows the pain. Giving up now is not an option.
"Thank you, " Carol says. "Any word on Daryl?"
Willow listens to the clock mounted just above the piano at the corner of the room. The last any of them heard, Rick wanted to check for any bites. There was so much dirt and blood, no one could fully tell the extent of Daryl's injuries. Willow didn't want to think about the possibilities of Daryl being bitten. If this were the case, she'd never let this down.
Rubbing her hands together, Willow bowed her head, "Not yet. It is a waiting game right now."
"Oh, " Carol murmurs, gripping the tray.
"Willow is very worried for her boyfriend, " Jodie teased only to hiss once Willow pulls on her ear.
A pair of boots rushed down the wooden steps. Within seconds, Shane comes walking into the living room. Old police cap rolled up between his large palms. Willow pushed herself up from the side ignoring the lemonade to stand before Shane.
"He's awake. Not bit, " Shane says behind short breaths.
"Oh, thank God." Willow shook her head in delight and relief.
"Wanna go up and see him?" Shane questioned.
Willow nods her head, walking past Shane without hesitation. Once on the second floor, Willow's excitement turns into fear. She stood in front of the door leading into the room Daryl is in. The same room she was in the night before.
Shane slowly made his way down the hall towards her. "You okay?" Shane questioned, placing his hand onto her shoulder. Willow darts her eyes down at his resting hand, disliking the feeling of his rough skin against her own. Just his mere touch made Willow want to crawl somewhere and die without thinking too much about it. She shrugged his hand away, swiping imaginary dirt from off of her shoulder.
"I am fine, " Willow lied. Knowing she feared coming face to face with Dixon. This morning was enough to make anyone upset, but she held mixed feelings. "I just hate this room." Willow grips the doorknob and seconds later, the door opens before her. All eyes fall onto the two. Hershey way behind Daryl, stitching up a wound just above his waist. Rick sat beside the bed, hovering over the same map Maggie had placed on the hood of Otis' truck. Daryl lay on his side, putting pressure onto his grazed wound at his temple with a white clean cloth.
Willow looks over at Daryl with wordy, studying his bare chest and arms. Hershey must have cleaned him up, not enough to get all the soot from off of his skin. Just enough to see Daryl's injury. Dixon craned his neck to look up at Willow. The tranquil gaze he had given her earlier gone completely. Replaced with his usual mean scowl.
"I told you not to go alone, " Willow simply states before walking and settling by the single window in the room. Shane plops himself down in a chair just shy from the room door.
Daryl's glare follows her, nonetheless, as soon as she pressed her back against the wall, his glare drops back down onto the map.
"I found it washed up on the creek bed right here, " Daryl points his finger towards the map, winking at the pain as Hershel dragged the thread upward. "She must have dropped it crossing there somewhere."
Rick glances over his shoulder towards Willow and Shane. "Cuts the grid almost in half."
"Yeah. You're welcome!" Daryl snarls.
"How's he looking?" Willow asked.
"I had no idea we'd be going through the antibiotics so quickly, " Hershel cuts the thread carefully before moving away from Daryl. Finishing up his handy work. "Any idea what happened to my horse?" The old man wipes his bloody hands with a clean white cloth. His aging eyes glance down at Daryl.
"Yeah, " Daryl grunts. "The one who almost killed me? If it's smart, it left the country."
Hershel wash his hand in a round large bowl sitting at the end of the dresser. He attentively dabbed his fingers one more time in the water for extra protection. Then Hershel dries them with another clean cloth. "We call that one Nelly, as in Nervous Nelly. I could have told you she'd throw you if you'd bothered to ask."
"Wait, you didn't even ask?" Willow hissed.
Daryl looks up at the ceiling like a rebellious teenager.
"It's a wonder you people have survived this long, " Hershel's southern accent scolds coldly.
Satisfied with Daryl's information, Rick rolls up the map. He and Shane leave the room, allowing Hershel to finish up with Daryl. Having nothing else to do, and not wanting to bump into Andrea any time soon, Willow offers Hershel some help.
Daryl sat on his side, his arm raised so Hershel could bandage his side wound properly. Willow took to wrapping a roll of bandages around his head. She sat beside him, unbothered by the tension by now. She was afraid before but knowing he is alright and taking care of his wounds made Willow feel some kind of relaxation.
Daryl on the other hand tried his best to keep his eyes on the mirror attached to the dresser. Watching Willow's reflection in silence. Every so often, Daryl would notice himself looking directly at Willow's lips. Admiring the way they twitched while she is in full focus. As much as he enjoyed gazing at her facial structure, Daryl becomes upset with himself. Scolding his inner self and flenching away from Willow if her fingers accidentally brush against his forehead. Too afraid to feel her touch.
"Where's my bow, " Daryl questions, fluttering his eyes shut.
"Safe."
"Best be, " Daryl replies dryly.
"What happened?" Willow brushes her shoulder against her cheek to remove any sweat. Her shaky hands pin the end of the bandage downward, keeping it from unraveling.
"Stupid horse threw me off. Fell down into the creek and your damn arrow went straight through me, " he explains roughly.
"There are few things Nelly is, and stupid ain't one of them, " Hershel grumbled.
"I mean, what happened with the ear thing, " Willow says in almost a whisper. Not wanting to go into much detail.
Daryl refuses to answer this. Not wanting to relive what happened back there. His head is still foggy from the images of Merle. That man always came back to him in the most unpredictable ways. Daryl didn't think he'd see his brother again while nearly dying. At least the lucid hallucinations weren't of his father.
"I'm sorry for the trouble, Hershel." Willow apologizes softly. She without much thought tucked her index finger underneath Daryl's chin. With her eyes on the bandages, she evaluates her work. Making sure the wrapping is even around his head. "If I would have known he took Nelly without your permission -"
Still not fully realizing what her fingers were doing, Willow's thumbs at his cheek. She tries to rub away dry blood Hershel missed, and as she do so, Daryl's hand suddenly grasps her wrist. Frightened by his swift motion, Willow nearly jumped from out of her skin. He pulls her hand away from his face, frowning up at Willow as if she had done something wrong. As if she insulted him by touching his face.
"Don't, " Daryl spoke in a serious tone. Unheard of by Willow. She never saw such seriousness in his blue iris'. It is so unreal, Willow is terrified.
His grip tightened around her wrist, "Just don't, " Daryl repeats. This time his throat is hitched and his own mind is confused.
Willow's eyes widen in shock, still not quite understanding what he could mean by this.
Don't apologize? Don't touch him?
With Daryl, a 'Don't' could mean a lot of things. And even if she could scratch the surface of what he meant, there were more layers to get through. Thick layers much like an onion. Daryl is inconsistent. Always changing. Never staying quite the same. No matter how much she wanted to learn or understand, Daryl always closed a door. Shutting her and everyone out.
Daryl threw her hand to the side then turned his gaze away from Willow without another word.
Willow is engulfed with hurt, and as she turns her attention onto Hershel who eyed her eerily. Willow acknowledges her own eyes growing itchy from the build up of unwanted tears.
"Guess I'm done here, " Willow gave Hershel no time to respond, for she stood to her feet and rushed out the door with much speed. Her face burns with conflict as her eyes move her down the hall. Accepting that she might actually have feelings for Daryl was hard enough. Trying to understand his own feelings towards her is a different story.
***
Forks scrap against plates. Glass chime against one another. Lips smack and chew. Eyes wander awkwardly across the room. Every so often someone will make a comment, wanting to break the ice, but everyone would just go dead silent after a while. Unlike their first and last dinner with Edwin, everyone held a gloomy mood.
Willow slowly cut into her pork chop, feeling the tension between everyone grow tight. The adults sat at the long dinning room table. Rick on one end, Hershel at the other. Glenn, Maggie, Jimmy, Beth, and Jodie sat at the 'kids' table.
The only duo who talked amongst another were Jodie and Beth. Even then, their talk is in a whisper.
"Does anybody know how to play guitar?" Glenn spoke up.
Heads turn to Glenn who smiled at the others with his usual Glenn smile.
"Dale found a cool one, " Glenn let's out a nervous laugh once no one answers. "Somebody's got to know how to play."
Willow shoves the small cut of pork chop into her mouth, watching Patricia toss her food around with her fork. Her eyes were tired and dull. The lack of sleep and constant tears clear as day.
"Otis did, " The widow suddenly spoke.
"Yes, and he was very good at it too, " Hershel says before taking a bite of his mashed potatoes.
Glenn blinks sadly towards Patricia before turning back to his plate in shame. Willow glanced around the table to see everyone's heads low. What really catches her curiosity is Shane. No longer eating his meal, Shane pulled his fork away from his mouth. His mash potatoes now being ignored after Patricia spoke of her late husband. Reeking of guilt.
"Willow, " Rick says towards the suspicious woman. "Once you're done, do you think you could bring Daryl up a plate? I am sure he's starving up there."
Willow sat frozen in her seat, gripping her fork tight. Out of everyone to ask, Rick decides Willow is the best pick. No one else wanted to sacrifice their dignity to bring food up to Dixon. As it had been noted multiple times that not many of the people within this room wanted anything to do with Daryl. So, Willow accepts her fate in silent misery, pushing around her own mashed potatoes in a nervous matter.
***
Her fingers grip the side of the tray carrying a big enough plate to fill two stomachs. Carol made sure Dixon had enough so he could regain his strength:
"He'll be just fine, " Carol tells a silent Willow. Licking the tip of her thumb, Carol position the large plate into the middle of the tray. "Daryl is tough and a good man."
Willow tapped the counter with the edge of her nails, listening to what Carol had to say. If she thought this, why wasn't she the one volunteering her soul with the devil upstairs? Willow half expected Carol to yet she still hands over the tray to Hunter with a gentle smile. Taking a quick glimpse at the food, Willow scoops up Daryl's meal with a sigh.
"Yeah. He is. Hard headed too." Willow adds, leaving the kitchen immediately after. After a minute of slowly forcing her feet up each step, Willow stood at the beginning of the hallway. Her ankle still sore and her stomach worn from the large dinner, she already felt uneasy. This just put the icing on the cake. Daryl made her stomach churn in a good way, usually, but right now the bitter taste of his outburst makes it hard to want any interaction with him.
Putting her own thoughts to the side, Willow starts down the hall and carefully tapped against the brown wooden door leading her to Daryl. A muffled grunt could be heard and Willow cracks open the door with caution. Daryl sat up, snapping his head away as he recognizes the person behind the door is Willow. Not a word is exchanged at that moment; she moves a small alarm clock to the other side of the nightstand, giving the tray enough room to balance on the surface.
"You're welcome, " Willow breathed, gripping the knob tight. She is ready to slam the door behind her, however, the sound of Daryl's voice; Small but noticeable, catch Willow's attention. "Huh?"
"Stay..." Daryl repeats, holding on tight to the thin sheets keeping his legs warm. "Don't make me beg."