Ruin Me So You Can Save Yourself (Daryl Dixon X Male OC)

Part two: 15. Mister Doctor

Daryl Dixon

It's been months since I saw Sam. Months and months. It's already a bloody summer and the last time I saw him was before Christmas. He called me Christmas morning but I never picked up the phone because I was damn busy with trying to bail Merle out of jail. When I finally was free I tried to call back. I was sober and I usually don't call back until I'm at least a little intoxicated, but he usually doesn't call me a hundred times straight. I figured something was wrong, maybe something happened to him, or maybe he just got tired of me and called to tell me to go fuck myself since I haven't heard from him since then.

I wouldn't blame him if so, I'm not the most pleasant person to be around, it was nothing anyway. We were nothing. One hell, there was no we. Whatever. I lived almost forty years without him or anyone like that, I'm fine. No. Actually, I'm better off on my own. I always was.

It's fine.

I don't need him.

Not at all.

I got Merle and I got my truck and bike. I don't need some college boy to take care of me, I can take care of myself just fine.

I'm fine. And drunk. Been drunk for... past four months. I don't even do drugs anymore, not unless Merle drags me along with him to some party or shit. Alcohol is better. It doesn't make me do stupid shit, it just makes me forget. That's all I need. Forget. Errace. Run away. Hide.

"Sheriff Rick Grimes, who was shot in the street skirmish three weeks ago, is still in coma in the Harrison Memorial Hospital. Sadly there's no prognosis of when he will wake up but we are all hoping and praying for the fastest recovery of this great officer."

I raise my head looking at the TV in the corner of the bar where the news report was playing and sip my whiskey while staring at the lady ranting about this police officer. It was all about him for the past three weeks, like nothing else important happens in this world about some popo getting shot.

I was shot once, no one gave a shit, even Merle.

"Well I bet that son of a bitch deserved what he got." Merle speaks plopping down on the stool beside me and sipping his beer as he watches the news report.

I just grunt shortly.

"You're awfully grumpy lately, little brother. Are you sad over that sheriff guy?" Merle scoffs teasingly as he slaps his hand down on my shoulder enough to make it sting, but I don't bat an eye.

"Piss off." I mumble and take another sip of whiskey.

News report switched to black screen with big red letters saying 'attention'. Me and Merle turned our heads to it in confusion.

"Please remain calm and go home. We require everyone to go on immediate lockdown. This is not a drill. There was found an unknown disease which started affecting people frantically. Please keep your distance from everyone and report if you see anyone infected. I repeat, this is not a drill."

"Bull shit." Merle laughs. "Some disease out of nowhere. Only disease this country has is tolerance and democracy."

Despite Merle calling bullshit I tense up anyway. It doesn't seem like a joke or anything. But I didn't see no one looking sick or anything like that anywhere.

"Bullshit or not, I better go check on my wife and kids, can't hurt." One of the guys from the gang, Martin, said getting up from the bar and moving towards the exit.

"Yeah yeah whatever." Merle matters, waving him off.

I just continue staring at the screen of TV that now was showing instructions of what to do and yada yada.