Lost | Daryl Dixon

6 - Moving On

3rd Person POV

Elizabeth had been sitting beside Jim for a while now, his condition had been deteriorating quickly, and the pen she'd used to make where his initial infection was shown on his skin had been a good indication of how fast this disease worked. She had marked where it was every 15 minutes, as it slowly but surely crept up his skin, but he barely seemed to notice after the pain meds kicked in.

Jim's mind was slowly being cooked by the fever, initially not seeming an issue, but she noted everything she could. She was sure the CDC knew all this, but she had some hope that it would at the very least show some sense of commitment to helping getting Jim help if she'd been tracking his progress the whole time.

He shivered through the hot and cold flashes, before looking up at the nurse beside him, who scribbled notes to herself intensely. He stared at her a moment, thinking to himself before she looked up and caught his eye. She smiled softly. "You doing okay, Jim?"

He nodded, slowly, glancing out of the door. "Just thinkin'."

She raised a brow, closing her book and placing it down beside her. "Wanna talk about it?"

"I'm just tryin' to figure you out," She raised a brow. "I've paid attention to everyone here in camp, but you - I don't get."

The sobbing outside quieted as she moved closer to Jim, leaning in with slight amusement in her face, "Yeah? What dontcha get?"

He winced mildly in pain as he sat up slightly. "Ever since we set up camp, you and uh, Shane, you've both taken charge, lookin' after folks."

"We've just been doing our jobs," She started but he shook his head, looking down again, the pain building in his abdomen. She noticed, going for her kit and pulling out a couple more painkillers. "We both have an obligation to help others-"

"I'm not talkin' 'bout you both," He muttered, taking the pills desperately as she passed him a bottle of water. "Shane, I've figured out - at least for the most part." He downed the water quickly, desperately. "But you, you're not just being a doctor to these people - Shane will go play with that little boy or act as security 'round everyone. You check on people as individuals."

"Good bedside manner," She grinned. "Should've been around to give me a review at the hospital."

"Nah, it's not just that," He leaned down once more, exhausted quickly. "You seem to care deeply, about each person. Shane - no offence - Shane seems the type to jump out the water when he doesn't like the temperature. You? You sit in the whole time helping people out of the pool." She watched the man as he stared her down, intense in his insistence on getting his point across. "You have a way of getting to people, relatin' to them - people actually listen to you, look up to you. And I know he's your husband but sometimes, and Dale's seen this too, he seems jealous of that. Of you - I'd be careful if he ignores you and tries to force his own leadership. These people - they need someone who cares, who's careful and-" He groaned, the intensity making him feel ill as he keeled over. She grabbed his arm, checking his temperature with the back of her hand and grabbing a bucket as he looked pale.

He retched, and she turned away in respect - to make him more comfortable.

He spat, groaning and shivering again.

"I'm getting carried away," He muttered. "I'm just saying, be careful - and don't let him change what you're tryin' to do for these people."

She jumped as a gunshot went off, jumping up from my seat beside Jim and heading to the door, opening it and seeing Andrea crying, and Amy, finally dead. She glanced back toward Jim, thinking over his words - noticing that he sounded like he'd already accepted he wouldn't be around to see what choice she'd make, like he was offering final advice on his death bed - before heading out, and offering a hand to Andrea.