Love & survival (Daryl Dixon x oc)

Nineteen

A woman called Patricia took a look at my ankle after she fixed up T-Dog. "Oh, that doesn't look that good." She said while carefully checking it, "Ah. Here it is. I found the spot where it was broken. I'm going to try to put it back in place."

"Okay, I already did that though. Did I not do it correctly?" I asked her. I thought I fixed it.

"No, you did it right but its not popped back all the way. It needs to go further to get it back in place." 

"Okay. Can you count down. I'd like to sort of prepare for the pain. It hurt like hell the time I did it."

"Sure." She told me, "Three, Two-" I screamed in pain as Patricia grabbed my ankle and did something with it to 'pop' it into its normal state. Fuck this hurted even worse then last time. The tears rolled out of my eyes. "I'm going to bind it with some bandages now, so it hopefully stays in this position, okay?"

"Okay" I cried. I've never felt this type of physical pain before. It felt like Patricia had ripped my ankle off. After I calmed down I saw Glenn standig next to me with a worried look on his face. He must've been here the whole time after I screamed in pain. "I'm okay. I'm okay." I told him and his face rested.

After she finished wrapping my ankle I showed Patricia my arm and she started to suture my wound. "You're lucky you didn't have such a nasty wound as him." She gestured at T-Dog. 

"Yeah" I replied.

"How did you even get your ankle broken and your arm cut?"

"It's a long story."

"I've got all the time. I'm busy for a while anyway."

"To sum it up: I found a truck full of body's and I stumble back and fell out of it. Got my arm cut on a piece of glass and then kicked a cars tire out of frustration."

"Wow. You're not the most swift-handed person on earth, are you?" Patricia said with a chuckle.

"Guess not." I replied with a smile.

"There you go. All done. I'm just going to bind it off." She said as she tied the last suture. I thanked her. Maggie came in with a plate of food. I thanked her aswell. After finished my food I stood up and hopped over to the couch and took a nap. I was never able to sleep this much but apperantly I needed it.

When I woke up everyone was running around the house saying stuff about medicine and Carl. Shane came walking in with Rick, Lori and Maggie. He had come back with the stuff they needed for Carls procedure. Hershel ran to the room and started immediatly with the surgery.

Maggie was crying in the kitchen about a man named Otis. I had no idea who he was or what he had done but it seemed to hurt all of them. Glenn was with her and trying to comfort her.

Hershel gave us all the news that Carl was alright and that he was going to make it. With that I relaxed and fell asleep, again. 

*

I woke up the next morning to the sound of a motorbike in the distance. It was the others. Glenn got me up and we walked outside. 

"How is he?" Dale asked.

"He'll pull through. Thanks to Hershel and his people." Lori replied relieved.

"And Shane," Rick corrected her, "We'd have lost Carl if it not for him."

Dale and Rick gave eachother a brothely hug and Carol went to Lori. Daryl came to me and gave me a tight hug and I let go of Glenn's shoulder so I could hug him back. "How are ye? You okay?" He asked almost immediatly. "I'm okay. They fixed my arm and ankle as far as they could." I told him quickly with a reasauring smile. He let go of me and let me lean on his shoulder.

Later that day we had a sort of funeral for Otis. Everyone piled up rock they had gatherd. "Blessed by god, father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Praise be to him, for the gift of our brother Otis, for his span of years, for his abundance of character. Otis, who gave his life to save a child's, now more than ever, our most precious asset. We thank you, God, for the peace he enjoys in your embrace. He died as he lived, in grace." Hershel speeched to us. He turned to Shane, "Shane, will you speak for Otis?"

"I'm not good at it. I'm sorry" He said.

"You were the last one with him. You shared his final moments. Please. I need to hear. I need to know his death had meaning." Patricia begged him with tears in her eyes.

"Okay," Shane started, "We were about done. Almost out of ammo. We were down to pistols by then. I was limping. It was bad. Ankle all swollen up. 'We gotta save the boy.' See, that's what he said. He gave me his backpack. He shoved me ahead. 'Run,' He said. He said, 'I'll... I'll take the rear. I'll cover you.' And when I looked back..." Shane walked towards the pile of rocks while continuing, "If not for Otis, I'd have never made it out alive. And that goes for Carl, too. It was Otis. He saved us both. If any death ever had meaning, it was his." He put the stone he had in his hands on the pile.