In The End | Daryl Dixon

Chapter 15: Judge, Jury, Executioner

I woke up with the sun shining through the window of a moving car. I blinked a few times before checking out my surroundings, my head was laid on Glenns shoulder, Hershel was in the passenger seat, and Rick was driving. I looked to my left and I saw the kid that shot me. He had a blindfold over his eyes, and was slumped against the door.

"He's passed out." I heard from the right of me. I turned my head towards Glenn who was looking at me, making sure I was alright.

"What happened?" I asked confused.

"You passed out. Probably from shock of getting shot. Hershel still has to look at it, but like you said, it looks to be a graze." Glenn explained.

"I feel like I got hit by 15 semi trucks." I rubbed my forehead.

We pulled into the long dirt driveway leading up to the farmhouse. I was so glad to be home. When we got in front of the house, everyone started running up to the truck. Rick was greeted by Lori and Carl, and Maggie ran straight for Glenn, engulfing him in a hug. I slowly got out of the truck and I was immediately met with Daryl and his concerned eyes.

"What happened to you?" He asked, holding out my arm.

"We ran into some people who weren't exactly the nicest bunch. They shot at us. I got grazed."

I could see the shift on his face, "He dead?" he asked lowly.

"No. He's-"

"Who the hell is that?" T-dog asked, stopping me in mid sentence.

Everyone looked inside of the truck, including myself. I turned back around to face Daryl, "He's in the truck." I finished my sentence from before.

"That's Randall." Glenn said as he was walking towards the house.

Daryl sent daggers to the unconscious kid in the back of the truck, "Jordyn, come inside, and let me look at your arm." I heard Hershel call from the porch.

I didn't take my eyes off of Daryl however, he removed his hateful glare from Randall, and looked down at me. He shifted awkwardly on his feet, "You'd better go. Get fixed up."

I slowly nodded, walking around him, following Hershel into the house. Hershel led me to the kitchen, I pulled out a chair at the table, sitting down. Hershel gathered his medical supplies he needed and sat them on the table as he sat beside me.

It was quiet as he cleaned me up. I reflected on the harsh words I had said to him at the bar, guilt eating me up inside.

"I'm sorry for what I said back there." I apologized quietly. "It was uncalled for."

He swiped an alcohol pad over the wound causing me to hiss in pain. "It's quite alright. You were just reminded of your past."

Silence entered the atmosphere again, I watched Hershel as he started to stitch up my arm, "You do remind me of him." I admitted, causing him to pause. "Before my mom died." I finished, he went back to stitching my arm. "He cared so much about my brother and I, we were his everything. He'd do anything for us." I paused, looking directly at Hershel. "You remind me of that." I confessed.

Hershel did remind me of my dad, in a good way. So seeing him sit at that bar, just drinking away, drew up a lot of emotions from my childhood that I thought I had buried a long time ago.

He finished stitching me up, cleaning the area around the wound of dried blood.

"Good as new. Just take it easy today. Can't have you passin' out again." Hershel said as he got up to wash his hands.

I looked down at the stitches on my upper arm, "Thank you." I said softly.

He hummed in response, I heard footsteps entering the house, I looked towards the doorway, seeing Daryl come into view.