48 • we can't avoid death

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THE WALKING DEAD




THE WALKING DEAD

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tw: death.

season 4, episode 8





       It was now the next day, and I felt like I could jump for joy with the amount of energy I had. That night, after Rick had walked into my cell, Bob followed him and gave me the medicine I needed.

I was already back on my feet, took a long shower, and changed into fresh clothes, ready to start this brand new day feeling on top of the world. I hadn't gotten to find Hershel and thank him for everything, but I was sure I'd see him later.

With my hair dripping, I strode out of Rick and I's cell, my hands clasping my belt that held my holster and sheath. I bit my lower lip, letting out a deep breath, causing a small crackle in my lungs.

I let out a dry and soft cough to get rid of the crackle, of course, I wasn't 100% better, but I was getting there.

As I continued to walk, I noticed two bodies standing near the stairs, lowly talking to each other. I squinted my eyes in suspicion, my steps slowing.

With each step, my curiosity spiked. My body twisted around the corner slowly, instantly recognizing the back of Daryl and Rick, the two of them talking hushedly.

Instead of eavesdropping on their conversation, I decided to walk through them, my hands resting on my belt along with a bright smile on my face.

The two men separated from each other at the sight of me, their words coming to a halt. Daryl bit his lower lip, his hands clenched into fists. Rick stared down at me with a forced smile, his fingers twiddling with his belt as he had his hands placed on his hips.

I tried not to think much about the tension between the two, knowing it was most likely none of my business. Yet I couldn't help but feel like they were hiding something from me, and I wanted nothing more than to pry it out of them.

"Hey, you feelin' better?" Rick asked me, awkwardly clearing his throat. I nodded my head, the smile on my face only growing.

"A lot, thanks to Daryl," I replied, my hand motioning toward Daryl who shook his head instantly, his hand waving in disagreement.

"Nah, it's all thanks to Bob– and Hershel," Daryl told me roughly, shooting a sharp look at Rick at the same time. My eyes squinted in suspicion again, watching both the men glare at each other.

With a deep breath, I took a step closer, my eyes glancing between Rick and Daryl. "Okay, what is goin' on?" I questioned, my voice firm yet laced with concern. I needed answers, something was going on.

The two men could only lower their sharp eyes toward the ground, letting out heavy breaths of air. I shook my head in disbelief, they were acting like little kids who just got caught stealing a cookie out of the jar.

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