Haunted | Daryl Dixon

15. Boy I Used to Know

In the movies, after a character had passed out, their eyes would always flutter open. Slowly and softly, as if easing back into the world.

That wasn't what happened for Evelyn.

Her eyes snapped open and she was on her feet in an instant, hand moving to her belt, only to find her gun gone, so, she quickly took her knife out of her boot. All of this happened within two seconds.

The man that had been standing over her stumbled back slightly. He was on crutches though, so he almost fell.

She couldn't find it in herself to care or even be the slightest bit sympathetic as her eyes narrowed to slits and she pressed her knife to his throat, backing him up into the closest wall.

There was a burning sensation in her stomach at her quick movements, but she made sure to ignore it.

Around them, objects clattered to the floor loudly. She didn't bother to so much as glance to see what had fallen.

"Where is he?" She hissed, applying more pressure to the older man's throat with the tip of her blade.

"If you're referring to the young man that came with you, I can assure you that he's completely fine." He replied calmly, as if being threatened by a knife to the throat was a daily occurance for him.

The sound of rushing footsteps met Everlyns ears, and she whipped her head to the door, only to come face to face with a man she hadn't laid eyes on since she was eighteen- not counting that brief second before she had passed out.

It all came rushing back to her at once. Her stomach wound, the people taking her and Daniel in, the prison, Daryl Dixon.

She felt as if her throat was closing in on itself as she stared at him, yet to move the knife from the old man's own throat.

He was much different- oh, so very different- since she had seen him last. He was taller, had more muscle, his hair was grown out, and there was a roughness about him that she had never seen before. But there was not a doubt in her mind that it was still Daryl.

Her Daryl. The one she had lost all those years ago.

Only, he wasn't her Daryl. The last time they had seen each other, he had broken her heart into thousands of pieces and stomped on the remains.

Daryl opened his mouth, as if to say something, only to be cut off and sent stumbling to the side.

Daniel pushed past him and rushed into room, not caring as Daryl scowled and tried to regain his footing.

"E," Daniel breathed out, relief evident on his features, only for them to twist when he saw her current predicament, "You can let go of him, it's fine. We're okay. He was trying to help you, he's one of the doctors." He hurriedly explained.

Evelyn wasn't yet ready to drop her defensive stance though, scanning Daniel up and down, "You're alright?" She asked, needing to be sure.

"Yes," He nodded, "I'm fine, E."

Slowly, she dropped the knife from the man's throat and stepped away, offering up no apology or explanation to him as she did so. He didn't seem to mind though, and he nodded once with a soft smile, as if she had done him a kindness.

"You're healing up nicely," The man offered up, "You'll be in pain for a few weeks, but that's to be expected."

Hesitantly, she nodded once at him, though even she was unsure if it was in thanks or as confirmation to his words.

"Evelyn," Daryl's voice was gruff and strained, almost as if it pained him to speak.

All at once, three pairs of eyes snapped over to the man, but his gaze stayed solely trained on the woman.