Li'l Sparky // [Daryl Dixon]

What The Hell Are You Doing Here?

Season: Five

Episode(s): Slabtown

*Ryan's POV*

My entire body ached. I didn't want to open my eyes; I just wanted to sleep. I rolled over in my comfy bed. 

Wait.

Hold the fucking phone.

Since when was I in a comfy bed? I opened my eyes and immediately closed them. Wherever I was, it was bright. I tried again and let my eyes adjust to the bright white room. 

Was I in a hospital? I looked down at my wrist, which had an IV sticking out of it. My other wrist had a cast on it. I felt my cheek and noticed I had stitches on it.

I grabbed my IV pole and wheeled it over to the window. 

Oh, dear God. I was in Atlanta. How did I get in Atlanta?

Wait, wait, where was Daryl?? I ran to the door and started pounding on it.

"Hey! Hello!?" I yelled. "Hey!" Behind it, I heard someone talking on a radio. I backed away from the door and ripped my IV out. The door opened, revealing a man in a lab coat and a woman in a police uniform. 

"Everything's okay," the doctor said. "Okay?" 

"Put it down," the policewoman ordered me. "Drop it right now." I let my IV needle drop to the floor. 

"I'm Dr. Steven Edwards," the doctor introduced himself. "This is Officer Dawn Lerner. How are you feeling?" 

"Where am I?" I asked. 

"Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta," Dr. Edwards responded. 

"How did I get here?" I asked. 

"My officers found you on the side of the road surrounded by rotters," Dawn explained. 

"Your wrist was fractured and you sustained a superficial head wound," Dr. Edwards added. "Can you remember your name?" 

"Ryan," I answered. "The man I was with, is he here, too?" 

"You were alone," Dawn said. "If we hadn't saved you, you'd be one of them right now. So you owe us." 

I already hated this woman. The doctor seemed okay, but Dawn was already on my hit list. 

---

Dr. Edwards led me down a hall and into a room. I was dressed in hospital scrubs that a ward gave me. A man laid in the bed, attached to a bunch of machines.

"Couple of them out there were on a run about a week ago," Dr. Edwards explained. "They found two boxes of Bisquick and a Merle Haggard tape at a truck stop, and then this gentleman under a bridge. Cardiac arrest and extreme dehydration. I tried to do what I could." 

He turned off the life support and the monitor flat-lined. 

"Wait, that's it?" I asked. 

"If patients don't show any signs of improvement... well, Dawn calls it," Dr. Edwards said. He disassembled the machines. We wheeled his bed through some corridors and passed Dawn and another guy. 

"Hold up," Dr. Edwards told me. He muttered some things to Dawn. I didn't care. I had just noticed something weird. 

Someone very familiar walked across the hall. I couldn't put my finger on it. 

Something even weirder happened. A creepy-looking guy walked out of a room. I looked in and saw a terrified young woman shut the door. 

I knew sexual harassment when I saw it. This was just that.