Penance (Book One): Daryl Dixon x Sage Wilson

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"Is she going to be okay! Fuckin' answer me!" I hear Daryl yell.

I feel hands on my body applying pressure, the pain shooting throughout my body.

"She'll be fine, Dixon. You need to leave." I hear Hershel say.

"Come on, let's go-" I hear Rick.

"Nah, I'm not going anywhere." I hear Daryl argue.

"It's not your fault, Daryl." I hear Glenn say.

"Course it is!" Daryl yells.

"Stop," I groan. I try to open my eyes, but they felt too heavy to keep them open.

"Wilson?" I hear Daryl again, except his voice was closed.

"In the flesh," I say. I attempt to open my eyes once more, seeing Daryl to the right of me. Rick, Glenn, and Maggie are posted outside of the cell and Hershel was bandaging me.

"Back here again, huh?" I try to joke, but no one laughs.

"You almost died." Daryl states flatly.

"But I'm not." I argue as I look to him. His eyes were drooping and his hair was messy. His clothes were coated with my blood.

"Close enough. Why didn't you mention him?" Daryl asks with a bit of annoyance in his tone.

"I thought he died." I look up at the ceiling, feeling my heart sink. I swallow, my throat seeming to close in on me.

"You got lucky," Hershel looks up to me. "One inch over and I'm not sure you could have been saved."

"Maybe it's fate," I mumble.

"No, it's not." Maggie says as she kneels down by me. She places her hand on mine. "We all care about you. We were able to supply Lori's baby for about two months. You did great."

"I put us in danger," I argue.

"Unintentionally," Rick says with a head nod.

"But- he's with a group, obviously-"

"We aren't going to worry about that right now, alright?" Rick asks.

I nod, pursing my lips. I watch everyone file out of the room, except Daryl.

"What do you need, Dixon? To coach me?" I look over to him, but all he does is hang his head down.

"Almost lost ya. About twice now."

"Yeah, and?"

"And It's fucking terrifying." He finishes.

"It's a part of—"

"No, Wilson. It's fucking terrifying losing someone you care about. You should know that better than anyone." He harshly says.

My eyes explore his, seeing a tinge of sadness and anger. Lots of sadness, lots of rage. All hidden underneath this happy go lucky redneck façade he showcased all of the time.

Daryl stands up, and I catch sight of his clothing.

"I'll go bring your dinner."

"I'm sorry about the uh.." I point to his vest, and he looks down biting his lip.

"Just rest." His hand places on mine for a brief moment, and he suddenly removes it.

My body tingles at the touch, my head spinning with confusion. My hand feels as though it's burning. I bring my hand to my chest, tracing over the touch.

Who were you deep down, Daryl Dixon?