Panacea - {Daryl Dixon Fanfiction}

Day 217 - Her Keeper

It was New Years morning, and Merle and Daryl sat side-by-side on their couch under the weight of Gabrielle, who had long since passed out. Merle and Daryl had woken up, and not wanting to disturb the girl sleeping stretched across their laps, they both just sat and talked about nothing in particular. Mainly it was about her.

"You know she's going to be hungover, right?"

Daryl had her head in his lap, and he gently ran his fingers through her hair. "Yeah."

"What are you gonna tell her Daddy, eh? Daryl Dixon let his baby girl get drunk. Won't be too happy 'bout that." Merle chuckled, but Daryl didn't say a word. He watched his baby brother: he swiped away stray strands of hair from her perfect, sleeping face. Ran his fingers through her blond waves, and Merle could see that his brother was more than content to have found someone. By God, if such existed, he had found "the one" and it was her. The way he seemed at peace around her, he didn't have to worry about any other damn thing in the world as long as he was with her.

"When you gonna marry her?" Merle suddenly blurted. Marriage was nothing Merle ever considered, and so Daryl hadn't ever either. His baby brother looked up at him, a little surprised he had said that.

Daryl snorted, trying to play it off as if Merle had been joking.

"I'm serious." Merle said.

Daryl looked back down at Gabrielle. "I'd marry her tomorrow, if I could."

Merle snorted. "You've got it bad, son." He had it, and Merle wanted it. He wanted to know that feeling and why it made this girl so special. "You'd go off and leave your dear big brother?"

Daryl shook his head. "It's nothing."

"It ain't nothin'. Look at what you've got here. Prettiest damn thing curled up in your lap and 'it's nothing'?"

Merle knew Daryl wanted to say that he wouldn't go off and leave him. That he'd always be by his brother's side, because that's who Daryl was; he was loyal. Merle wanted to tell him that if he knew what was best for him, he'd take this girl and run and forget about him.

"If you don't marry her, I will." Merle chuckled. "She's a hell-of-a fun drunk." He looked over at his brother who was still admiring his girl's pretty face, and if angels slept, there was one before them. "You sure know how to pick 'em."

The two fell silent and went back to watching her sleep, wondering how someone so precious could get tangled up with them.

Merle found himself watching over her again, thinking the same things as before, only this time under different circumstances.

His mouth twitched as he watched the Woodbury nurse poke and prod her with needles. She had given her an injection of antibiotics for the slight temperature she had, and said it was nothing more than the flu and exhaustion combined with mild dehydration.

Of course, when she had found that oval shaped wound on her forearm she thought otherwise.

"It's a healing bite. Surely it's not from one of those...things."

She sent for the Governor, who then sent for his little henchman, Milton. The little poindexter had gotten himself frazzled over such a find, explaining the chances of finding someone like her was one in three trillion, or some large-ass number like that. He went on listing all the possibilities that could come of this: "Her blood-type may be the immunity. It's could be the genetics, or...or even the bite from that particular walker. Either way, she needs to be examined."