Broken Bars

For Your Safety

Miraculously, I managed to avoid either Dixon brother for the next three days.

It was an embarrassing situation. The first day, I'd borrowed Hershel's crutches, humiliation burning through my face and neck as I stumbled about. If anyone found it funny, the murderous look on my face had stopped them from saying anything. My misery made me snappy and full of rage.

By the second day, Carl had went scavenging and brought back more crutches. I'd never loved the kid so much in my life. I could have adopted him there and then, Rick be damned.

So, here I was. Trying to get down the stairs, whilst on crutches.

And then he turned up, ruining my good luck.

"How the hell did you get up here in the first place?" Daryl growled, looking down at me. I was sat on the top step, glaring at my leg for daring to be injured. Stupid sniper. I hoped he was devoured by walkers while still breathing.

"Painfully," I snapped back. "I needed something." Of course, I had picked a cell on the upper floor. I was sick of sleeping in the downstairs cell, I wanted to be upstairs and away from everyone.

"Could'a just asked. I'd have gotten whatever it was."

"That," I ground out, picking myself up from the floor. "included acknowledging you exist. Which, in case you haven't noticed, I'm trying not to do."

"Can't ignore me forever, Liz."

"That a challenge?"

"Liz," he sounded exasperated, maybe even a little angry. I suppressed a satisfied smirk. "can't keep actin' like I ain't here."

"Of course I can," I leaned over, eyes boring into Daryl's. "I'll ignore you as long as I want, and I don't give a damn what you want. You made your bed, go and lie in the damn thing."

"Fine!" he spat back. "don't need to put up with this anyway. I ain't done nothing wrong, he's my goddamn brother."

I scoffed, lifting the crutches up as I tried to conquer the stairs again. My thigh exploded in pain all over again. I held back my yell, but the pain must have shown in my eyes. They were stinging with tears.

As much I wanted Daryl to go away, he wouldn't. He was at my side in a second. The anger was gone, replaced by the stark paleness of worry.

"Go away," I mumbled through gritted teeth. The pain was a throbbing ache, something I would have to get used to for the next few weeks.

This time, Daryl ignored me. His muscular arms pulled me into his chest, lifting me up as carefully as possible. He grunted as he took on my full weight, and slowly began to carry me down the stairs.

I pouted, my arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. He was burning hot and sweating, making the back of his neck hard to hold on to. I could feel his heartbeat against my chest, it was quick, fluttering heartbeats that were perfectly timed with his rapid breaths.

He set me down on one of the metal benches, clambered back up the stairs and then came back down, crutches in hand. I mumbled a thanks, my head bent to look at an interesting stain on my jeans.

I'd been carried down the stairs. Never in my life had I felt so humiliated.

Daryl paused, mouth parted like he had something to say.

"Daryl?" Merle roared from the other room. "the hell you disappeared to? Best not be running off on me again." He laughed at his own joke. I felt a twinge of irritation.

Daryl's face slid into that infamous scowl I knew so well. He all but rolled his eyes as he retreated back upstairs, searching for his asshole brother.

"Well, shit," I breathed.