in a dark meadow -- daryl dixon

scattered

word count: 4142

"No way in hell yer leavin,"

"I need to get out of this cell, Daryl." Avery whined, kicking the blankets off her legs like a toddler having a meltdown. "I feel fine."

Two days passed since Daryl found her on the floor and he'd rarely left her side since. Against Avery's wishes that he remain isolated from her, he dragged a second cot into her temporary cell and slept beside her, too paranoid to actually fall asleep in case she stopped breathing.

But her symptoms had drastically improved since she'd received the IV and antibiotics. The medication smothered her fever and cleared her lungs, until only a weak cough remained. Color returned to her cheeks, and she appeared more alert than she had in days.

Daryl was forced to sleep for a few hours last night, exhaustion finally catching up to him. When she noticed him snoring quietly beside her, her face softened, and she couldn't help but lay herself on the sliver of space beside him and snuggle into his chest. She'd awoken to him groaning affectionately, his arm slung over her waist. 

He had to eventually pull himself away from her later that morning, mentioning he needed to speak with Rick about something. He returned an hour later, leaning against the doorway to her cell, arms crossed over his chest.

"Nurses make the worst patients." He chuckled, entertained by her miniature tantrum.

"That's not true," She pouted, embarrassed. "Doctors make the worst patients."

"Well yer givin' them a run for their money."

"Rude,"

"Yer not leavin' 'til Hershel says."

"Fine, whatever." She rolled her eyes, expecting to see Daryl pleased with himself that she'd given in. But his face was serious as he studied Avery, and she could see his mind folding over itself. She frowned at him, the mood in the cell shifting. "Something wrong?"

"I gotta tell 'ya somethin'," He said quietly. She pushed herself up on her cot, making space for him to sit beside her. He sat down and hunched himself over, resting his arms on his knees and lacing his fingers. Whatever he was about to say, it wasn't good.

"Carol's gone."

"What?"

"She was the one who killed Karen and David."

Her mouth gaped open before closing again. She had a hard time grasping his words. Surely she'd misheard. Carol was the killer? No, that couldn't be right. "Are you sure?"

"She admitted to it." He sounded angry, but she knew it was to protect himself from the pain. Carol was his closest friend. Scooting beside him, Avery tried to meet his eye, gently placing a hand to his back.

"Where is she?"

"Not sure. Rick dropped her off somewhere. Made sure she had a car, food, supplies..."

"Tyreese know?"

He shook his head. "Not yet."

She blew air through her lips. She'd never expected Carol to do something so... Barbaric. She tried to justify the actions in her mind - she'd done it to prevent spread, but the virus spread anyway. What if it had been Avery in Karen's place? Would she have done the same thing to her? A chill spidered down Avery's spine. Maybe she didn't know her dear friend as much as she thought.

"Those two little girls," He spoke up quietly, unable to meet Avery's eyes. "Carol was sposed to look after 'em. Now what're they gonna do?"

"We'll look after them." She laced her hand with his, giving it an assuring squeeze. He straightened up, meeting her gaze.