Adapting (A Daryl Dixon/ The Walking Dead Fanfiction)

Chapter 42

Gemma's P.O.V
2 Weeks Later
Jeremiah and I lay down on a hard floor while the others are spread out amongst the shed. I lay with my eyes open and see that everyone is asleep. I gently shake awake Jeremiah and he opens his eyes to look at me and I gesture for him to be quiet. I stand up and he stands up with me, we grab our things.

The door is slightly ajar and we sneak over to it, opening it ever so slowly. It creaks quietly and I look back only to find them still asleep. I leave a gap just enough to pass our things and ourselves through. We get out and we grab our things, the moonlight guiding us down the tracks. I grab a branch and move it along the ground behind us.

"What are you doing?" Jeremiah asks.

"I'm covering our tracks so they won't follow us." I say, keeping my eyes trained ahead.

"Are you alright now?" He asks.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Your ribs, do they still hurt?" He asks, looking on me in concern.

In all honesty they hurt terribly but I can't let him know that, "I'm fine." I lie.

We walk for hours and I can feel him begin to slow beside me, "Are you alright?" I ask.

"I'm tired." He says.

I look around and see a small tool shed by the train tracks. I walk over and open it to see there's enough room for us to fit.

"Hop in." I say, looking around.

He walks in and I get in behind him, closing the door behind us. I push a piece of wood through the slat and lock us in. I take the bag off and place it in the corner, laying down. I hold my arm open for Jeremiah and he lays down beside me, pulling his arm around me. He let's out a yawn and lays his head on my chest, "I love you Gemma." He says quietly.

I smile, staring at the ceiling, "I love you too. Get some rest."

I stare at the ceiling and let my mind wander. I think of the prison and wonder where the others are. Is Rick with Carl and Judith? How is Maggie and Beth after Hershel's death? Are Sasha and Tyreese together? Is Michonne alive? I think of Daryl, knowing that he is alive. He's a survivor and will more than likely outlive all of us. I think back to our last happy moment together, our first night in the tower. I can feel his hands on me, the taste of his lips on mine.

I smile at the memory but then grow weepy, wishing that he was here with me. I feel Jeremiah stir beside me and I wipe my eyes, sniffling quietly. I roll on my side and hold him in my arms as I long to dream of my hunter but am haunted by the memories of these past two weeks.

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I awake the next morning with a stiff back and an empty stomach, it growling from hunger. I sigh and turn to the side to see that Jeremiah isn't there. I sit up in panic, my ribs flaring in pain and look to the door to see it open ajar.

"Jeremiah?" I call out.

The air is silent and I pick up the bag and put it on my back, grabbing out my gun. I open the door and look around to see he isn't there. I step out of the shed and walk around, looking for any sign of him. I hear a scream and I turn to see Jeremiah struggling with a walker by the side of the woods.

"Jeremiah!" I scream out.

I rush towards him and see the walker sink it's teeth into Jeremiah's neck and I scream out, firing the gun into the walkers head. I push it away and pull Jeremiah's bloody, frail body into my lap, looking into his eyes. They are watery and hold absolute fear in them as he looks at me, "Gemma, it hurts."