𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐄𝐓𝐇 || ᵈ.ᵈⁱˣᵒⁿ

XXXI

—/<3/—

Things started looking up in the spring. Edible wild plants were blooming and animals were coming out of hibernation, so the camp would be able to eat properly again, as opposed to the small portions they'd been dealing with all winter.

"Rory, let's get goin'," Daryl whispered to Rory, who was napping on her sleeping bag in a patch of grass. The sun had barely risen but Daryl was up and ready to leave.

"Already?" Rory asked, her voice raspy with sleep. She slowly sat up, her eyes still closed as she tried to get used to the brightness of the daytime.

Daryl hummed and held his hands out to help her up. Rory gladly took them, letting Daryl pull her to her feet, she stumbled a bit, still not fully awake. Daryl held her elbows to steady her as she blinked away the drowsiness.

"C'mon, grab your stuff." Daryl let go once Rory didn't look like she was going to fall asleep standing up. Rory did as she was told and grabbed her pack. She decided to quickly change her shirt behind the cars too, not wanting to get her last remaining white t-shirt covered in walker blood and mud.

"Eat this." Daryl tossed her a granola bar, a second one in his hand. Rory tucked the bar into one of the pockets of her cargo pants. She never really felt hungry just after waking up so she'd eat it in an hour or two. "We're takin' a car. Found a gas station a couple miles away with Rick and we're runnin' low on gas."

"Can I drive?" Rory asked.

"Nah," Daryl said with no hesitation.

"I'm a good driver!" Rory argued, following him over to the car Rick usually used.

"Then why do you never drive?"

"'Cause Archie would rather die than let anyone drive his 'baby' and we don't really drive anywhere because we can't waste gas," Rory pointed out. "Please?"

"You're half asleep. I'll drive there, you can drive back."

Rory cheered quietly so she wouldn't wake the rest of the camp.

—/<3/—

"Careful, there's a few in there," Daryl said as he peered through the large window of the gas station. Rory grabbed her hunting knife and waited for Daryl's 'go ahead'. He tapped on the window to draw them all to the front and then flung the door open.

The walkers filed out of the door, growling hungrily as they reached towards the two of them. Rory shoved her knife through the eye of the first one, leaving the second one to trip over the unmoving body of the one she killed. She drove her knife into the back of the walker's skull whilst it was on the ground and Daryl dealt with the last two before they set about dragging the bodies away from the door so they could get into the building.

"Might still be more around, keep your eyes open." Daryl ducked behind one of the aisles and began shoving things into his backpack, Rory did the same, grabbing what she could despite the majority of the shelves being looted already.

She smiled when she caught sight of a couple boxes of tampons. The girls had ran out of them in the winter and they hadn't found any since. They'd taken to ripping up pads to make their own tampons since the pads always overflowed within an hour or two when they used them normally but it wasn't the best method and Niamh had already almost gotten one stuck because of the lack of string to pull it out.

Rory yelped when a hand grasped her ankle and yanked her to the floor. She hit her head on the way down, smacked it on the edge of the shelf before she fell face down onto the linoleum floor. Something scraped along the side of her torso and she could feel the sharp sting of a cut. The walker growled by her feet, stuck underneath the bottom shelf, It's teeth gnashed at her and it's grip was unrelenting.

She didn't have time to get over the shock of the head injury before she was stabbing the wretched thing through the side of the head, bending awkwardly to reach it. Daryl's hands were hoisting her off the floor a second later and checking her for bites.

He checked the ankle where she was grabbed first and then moved upwards, stopping when he felt the wet warmth of her blood seeping through her shirt. Rory wobbled as her head spun, and she moved her hand up to check if her head was bleeding.

"Don't touch it," Daryl hissed angrily, catching her wrist, "You've got walker blood on your hands."

"It's fine," Rory said. She turned and reached for the tampons but Daryl stopped her.

"C'mere I can't see the wound properly, 's too dark." He gently pulled her over to the cash resister by the window and ordered her to sit on the desk.

"It's fine," Rory repeated.

"I told ya to keep your eyes open," Daryl seethed, pushing her hair back away from the trail of blood running from her forehead and down her temple.

"Don't shout at me. How was I supposed to know there was a walker hiding under the shelves?"

"By keeping your damn eyes open," Daryl reaffirmed. "Lift up your shirt." He ordered. Rory frowned. He'd never really gotten angry with her before, but she'd also never made a big mistake like this. She turned to the side and pulled her shirt up, taking one arm out and letting the fabric rest atop her shoulder. Daryl eyed the cut that ran from the side of her rib cage all the way down to her hip.

"S'not that deep. You got any of that paste left in your bag?"

Rory shook her head, and then immediately regretted it as her head began to spin again. "Used the last of it on Carl a couple days ago."

"Just wait here, I'll see what I can find."

"Let's just get what we need and go, I'll deal with it at camp."

"Wait there." Daryl glared at her authoritatively and disappeared further into the gas station. Rory sighed and swung her legs over to the other side of the desk, taking the keys from the hook and unlocking the case behind her. She slid the shutters up and began shoving packets of cigarettes and lighters into her bag. She grabbed a bottle of vodka whilst she was there, so she could clean the wounds.

"I told you to wait," Daryl said as he rounded the corner with a small first aid kit clutched under his arm.

"I'm still in the same place." Rory placed the vodka on the desk and climbed back up and sat in front of him.

"Whatever," Daryl mumbled. He nudged her legs apart and stood between them as he opened up the first aid kit.

"Daryl, there's no point in this. It's a shallow cut."

"Could get infected," he answered simply.

"That's what the vodka is for."

"We got proper antiseptic in here, don't need vodka."

"Save it for when someone gets properly injured. Let's get the gas and go."

"You could have a concussion are you're sayin' that you're not probably injured? Half those fools don't leave camp." Daryl frowned. "I'm cleanin' them, end of story. Stop arguin' else we'll be here all day."

—/<3/—