Triggerfinger ➳ Daryl Dixon

s i x t e e n

"You haven't been taking your medication?" Presley asked quietly. The air was bitter cold around her. She stuffed her hands into her pockets, allowing the breath in her lungs to hiss out between her teeth. A small white cloud escaped her parted lips and disappeared in the air in front of her. 

John rolled his eyes at his only daughter, "In case you haven't noticed, Presley, hospitals aren't exactly in working order. I'm fine, though; I don't need the medicine."

"That's not true." Presley muttered, turning away from the taller man. She ran a hand over the black hair on her head, a quiet sigh escaping her. Just when things were getting better, another problem arose. She stared out into the woods around her. "I'll have to find some for you... Somehow."

"Absolutely not." John snapped. "I just got you back." His voice was a bit softer at that point. 

"It's not like I haven't made these sort of runs a million times before." She retorted hotly. Well, that wasn't exactly true. She'd made runs before, but never for medicine. She didn't usually have a lot of injuries to tend to. Most of her runs were for ammunition and food and occasionally clothing. 

The girl stuffed her hands into her leather pockets. "I don't care." John said. 

"That sucks, don't it?" Presley left no more room for a reply. She was already thinking about where to go and what hospital to try and raid. Even more so, she was thinking about how to evade Daryl's questions that would surely appear if she did leave.

She knew that her only option was to leave without telling him.

- - -

Presley and John emerged from the trees. Daryl lifted his head, relieved to see that she was in one piece. Her dark eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as she contemplated about something. He recognized that expression; that was the expression she had when she was creating a game plan. He watched her for a few more minutes while she made her way towards him, forcing a thin smile when she finally met his eyes. 

Worry washed over him when she had to force a smile. She was doing something-- she was planning something that he most certainly wouldn't like.

He did his best to avoid frowning when she came up beside him, standing so close that their shoulders were almost brushing. When she exhaled through her lips, the scent of Altoids twirled through the air from her sweet breath. Normally he would relish in the minty scent, but at the moment, Daryl was far too worried to even take too much notice. 

"Remember," Morgan said, turning to the rest of the group, "These are good people. They're not accustom to violence."

Daryl patiently waited for a snide comment from Presley. He looked down at her, waiting for her to fire back a comeback, but she said nothing. In fact, she wasn't even looking at Morgan. Her chin was turned towards the forest, and deep lines were drawn into her forehead. 

The group inched eagerly towards the gates, curious to see the peaceful town hidden by those walls. Morgan scanned the group one last time before he turned to the gate and pounded his fist against the metal. It rattled and echoed loudly, so loudly that Daryl looked behind himself to see if any walkers would stumble out of the trees to try and tear out their throats. 

Only a few minutes passed before the gates shakily slid open. He twisted to see them slide open, and took in the sight of the few men who stood there, eyeing the group with narrowed eyes. They only relaxed when Morgan stepped forward. 

"Bring people, you said," Morgan said, beckoning to the group behind him. "I brought you people."

The men of Alexandria glanced at each other, their expressions unreadable. At last, one man stepped forward. His hair was short and shaggy, and he had the sort of face that would be impossible to forget. "Welcome to Alexandria. I am Aaron." 

Presley stiffened at his side. 

Daryl glanced down at her, looking to see if she was even paying attention. Her entire demeanor had changed. Her eyes were wide and locked on Aaron, and she looked far more pale than before. "Pres?" Daryl asked, bumping her shoulder with his own. 

"I--." She stopped short, giving her head a sharp shake. "I'm fine." She was the first to step out of the group, striding right past Aaron. 

Daryl watched them both very carefully. 

Nobody else saw it, but Aaron watched Presley very closely, just as she watched him. His eyes darkened the slightest when she brushed past him without a word. Even from that distance, Daryl could see the faintest tremble in her shoulders. Daryl followed after her immediately. 

It didn't take a genius to know that something was up with her. 

"I got her." A hand landed on Daryl's shoulder. Had he not recognized the voice, he would have broken the wrist of the person who laid a hand on him. He turned his head to look at John, who's eyes were glazed with a cold reflection. He stopped short as John bumped into his shoulder while he trailed after his daughter, who was rotating around the street and staring in wonder at the million dollar houses. 

- - -- - -- - - 

Oh my goodness. I am so sorry about this taking so long to get up. 

I got a job a few weeks ago, and it's hard to adjust 40 hours of school a week and about 18 hours of work a week. Hopefully it'll get easier ugh.

However, I do have good news! In 2017 I will be going on a trip to Australia, New Zealand, and Hawaii. I am so very excited to see a different country and view different settings. Perhaps I'll be inspired to write a new story in a different country.

Have you guys heard of that November challenge where you write a book in thirty days? I dunno, I think that might be a fun challenge. I have so many plots but so little time! 

Comment, vote, love me, love yourself, love cats.