Lilly Watkins has always been the strong one compared to her twin. That doesn't change when the dead start walking. Taking care of her family during the apocalypse, she never relied on anyone else. When she meets Daryl Dixon, a more temperamental pe...
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Daryl steadies my uneven gait for the hundredth time. My side could heal faster if I had a moment to rest. Unfortunately, I don't get that luxury.
"Rick, we need to stop," Daryl yells out when I completely fall onto my knees, a scream escaping my lips from the pain. I'm thankful Tiff is carrying Cash at that moment.
"We can't, Daryl. We need to keep going," is his reply. Daryl helps me up, deciding he's had enough of my stumbling, and just picks me up bride style. I study his face—the tired ice blue eyes, the sweat dripping down the bridge of his nose from the Georgia heat, the bruise from Terminus around his eye. He looks down at me, grinning at my stare.
"Whatchya thinkin' about, Lil?"
"You, of course."
He chuckles, continuing to carry me along.
I'm almost dropped when a scream for help slices the quiet forest. Rick sends one look at us before sprinting to the cry. Daryl throws me over his shoulder like the latest hunting kill, following our fearless leader.
"Stay here," he says, placing me against a tree, and running further on. I look in his direction, noticing a man trapped on top of a large boulder, surrounded by Walkers.
The group quickly takes them out, going up to the frightened man still on the rock. I stumble over, eager to hear everything that's going down. Upon getting closer, I notice he's wearing minister clothing.
"Come on down," Rick orders him. He quickly complies, staring wide-eyed at all of us. "You okay?"
He holds up a finger at Rick before throwing up right in front of him. I gag myself, turning away from the man. I feel a pat on my back and turn to see Daryl, though his eyes are still on the strange man.
"Sorry," he finally says, wiping the vomit from his mouth. "Yes. Thank you. I'm Gabriel."
"Do you have any weapons on you?" Rick asks, cutting to the chase.
"Do I look like I have any weapons to you?"
"We don't give two short and curlies what it looks like," the redhead man, Abraham, spits out. I didn't like him after he told Daryl to put me down like a rabid dog.
"What the fuck does that even mean, Orphan Annie?" I say, turning around to look at him.
"Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, Goldilocks. I wouldn't want to make you break a sweat trying to think."
"Let your side heal, then you can punch him," Daryl mutters, stepping between us.
Rick rubs the bridge of his nose. "Again, do you have any weapons?"
"I have no weapons of any kind. The word of God is the only protection I need."
"The bible probably packs a mean punch when you throw it," I mutter. Rick turns to glare at me and my hands go up in surrender.
