Daryl's Angel (10th Anniversary Edition)

Chapter 16: Saviour

Daryl watches out the window as Shane and Otis get ready to leave. Carl walks outside, right up to Otis, and holds Rick's gun out to him. Otis seems shocked, from what Daryl can see, but in the end, he takes the gun and thanks the boy. Carl nods.

There are a few hugs for Otis before he and Shane climb into the truck and drive off down the road. Daryl exhales and moves back to Hope's side. He feels restless, torn, like he should be on that run, actually doing something to help her instead of sitting here waiting.

He also wants to pull a blanket over her, give her some privacy, but there are so many tubes hooked up to her that he knows it'd just be an annoyance.

After another second, he pulls the blanket over her anyway, maneuvering her arms up and over the fabric before resting them at her sides again. She doesn't stir.

Carl sneaks into the room, lingering by the door, gaze darting between Daryl and Hope. Daryl sits back, eyeing him.

"What?"

Carl shrugs. He comes further into the room, still staring at her, and Daryl returns his attention to her too.

"I think she saved me," Carl says. Daryl glances at him, arching an eyebrow. "She saw something, in the woods, and moved me out of the way. The bullet hit her instead of me."

"Sounds like you got lucky."

Daryl keeps watching her, then he hears a sniffle. He looks back and Carl's bottom lip is trembling, his hands shaking as he keeps them in fists at his sides.

"If...if she dies, then..." he starts.

"Hey, don't talk like that, kid," Daryl retorts. "She'll pull through."

She's not strong, physically, but she's got this mentality that Daryl wouldn't describe any other way. She spent weeks on end alone in a department store and emerged from it with her will to live and faith in God somewhat intact, and Daryl thinks that takes a special kind of strength.

"She wants to live, so she will," he says.

Carl wipes his eyes, nodding a bit. "You like her, don't you?"

Daryl stares at him and he squirms a bit under his gaze. He looks back at her. "Sure."

She's a friend—a friend who confuses the hell out of him. Has she been flirting with him or does she just love to banter even if it seems like flirting? Is she actually this nice or is she just trying to get on his good side for other reasons? He can't shake their evening at the C.D.C. together and how fucking cute she was, all giggly and shit. He was sure that it was just the whiskey making him feel warm until the feeling didn't go away the next morning.

He wishes she'd wake up. He misses her voice.

Hershel and Patricia come back into the room. Hershel has the blood pressure cuff again and Patricia moves to Daryl's side as she leans over Hope, pulling out the transfusion needle.

"We're gonna need more blood," Patricia explains. "Is that alright?"

Daryl sticks his arm out. "Take whatever you need."

Hershel checks her pressure, purses his lips, and excuses himself again. Carl waits with Daryl while Patricia finishes up. With that done, Daryl stays seated for a few seconds, feeling a bit drained.

"Whenever you're ready, we have some food in the kitchen for you," Patricia says.

She leaves. Daryl and Carl sit in silence.

"I wanted to donate to my dad," Carl says. Daryl blinks at him. "He got shot, right before all this, and he was in the hospital. We have the same blood type and I wanted to help, but Mom said I was too young."