Haunted | Daryl Dixon

24. Promises

Little steps. Daryl Dixon hadn't realized how hard taking little steps would be when he agreed to try them.

He hadn't realized the toll little steps would take on him, not until he was standing there. Standing across from Evelyn, doing everything in his power to keep himself from lunging across the room and pulling her into his arms and never letting go.

She was yet to notice him, chatting softly with Hershel as he finished up whatever treatment he had just done on her.

Whatever it was, it had worked fast. She was sitting up on one of the beds in the isolated cell block, though it did nothing to bring back the color that had clearly long since drained from her face, or make the dark circles under her eyes disappear.

Hershel was the first one to notice the man's presence from where he stood, practically motionless in the doorway, focused completely on Evelyn.

The older man cleared his throat, glancing back down at the woman and giving her hand a squeeze, "I'll see you later. Make sure to take it easy, though. Alright, Miss Evelyn?" He asked with a singular raised eyebrow.

She smiled up at him, and though it was shaky, it held a strength that she hadn't looked or felt since before falling ill.

"You got it, Doc." She chirped back to him, squeezing his hand in return.

Hershel then moved to exit, coming to a stop next to Daryl briefly to balance on one crutch and clap the man on the back before continuing out.

Evelyn's eyes then flitted over to where Daryl stood, and her smile faltered slightly as she swallowed thickly.

"Are you alright?" Daryl called in, unmoving from his spot at the entrance.

She let out a shuttered breath, somehow finding it within herself to not let up her smile as she waved a hand to beckon the man in before patting the empty space on the mattress at her feet.

"I'm alright," She reassured him, "Thanks to you."

His eyes snapped up to hers, still yet to creep into the room.

"I heard you were the one who got the medicine back." She elaborated.

Daryl immediately began shaking his head softly, "Nah, that wasn't just me-"

"I know," Evelyn said, "But I still appreciate it all the same."

Finally, Daryl willed his feet to carry him over to the bed before gently lowering himself onto it, sitting on the edge.

"I, uh-" He cleared his throat, eyes shooting down to the floor as he rested his forearms on his knees, "I just found out you got sick." He swallowed, "If only I had gotten back here sooner.

"Daryl. Stop."

It wasn't only the gentle, yet stern, voice that pulled Daryl from his apology, but it was also the hand that landed on his arm.

It was barely even there, a ghost touch, but Evelyn had put her hand on his arm and he couldn't seem to look away. Couldn't seem to speak. It was as though thought besides her touch flew out of his mind.

"You saved so many of them with what you did- you saved me." Evelyn continued, dropping her head slightly so she could look him in the eyes, brown and blue orbs connecting, "A lot of us wouldn't be here right now without you."

It was like a lump formed in his throat, "Don't say that. You would still be here. You're a fighter."

Smile turning soft, Evelyn squeezed Daryl's arm once before she dropped her hand, the spot immediately feeling cold in her absence.