Comatose ➢ Daryl Dixon

Part II. The one to blame

"Emily, c'mon, snap out of it. We should go to the front. Wait to see what happens." Maggie spoke in a firm voice, pulling on my arm as I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"But."

"No buts, dad would want us to." She reassured me and I nodded in response following her to the front of the house. Everything fell silent as we stood there, not a sound could be heard from inside the house nor between us. Maggie only paced back and forth while I cautiously sat back on one of our chairs.

It felt like forever, but something soon caught my eye. Near the edge of the forest line, I saw two figures running, the large one appeared to be holding a child and I suddenly felt butterflies in my stomach and not the good ones.

"Maggie, up ahead, do you see it?" I inquired and she instantly shot her head up and grabbed the pair of binoculars next to her. Her eyes widened as she saw what looked like a father running with his wounded son.

"Dad! Emily, go get dad!" She began to yell and I darted towards the worn front door only to be greeted by our father. He looked concerned and his eyes looked everywhere, but at us.

"Was he bit?" Hershel, our father yelled towards the man as I could see Beth in the corner of my eye reaching for her boyfriend's hand. She looked so scared, but so was I.

"Shot, by your man." The man in a sheriff's outfit breathed out. Blood was all over his shirt, sweat dripped from his forehead and he looked like he was about to cry. The boy, however, almost looked dead, he was so young by the looks of it and I couldn't help, but feel bad. No child deserved to be shot, but could it really have been Otis? He'd never do such a thing and I could tell my dad felt the same.

"Otis?" Patricia asked as we all came down from the porch and walked closer to the broken man.

"He said find Hershel. Is that you?" Help me. Help my boy." He begged with a few tears falling down his face. My father instantly going into doctor mode while I shot Maggie a sorrowful look.

"Get him inside, inside!" Our father ordered and stormed inside, his entourage following shortly behind while he loosened his sleeves and rolled them up. Issues now being ordered like we worked in some fast food restaurant. "Patricia, I need my full kit. Maggie?"

"Yeah?" She quickly responded with, ready to grab anything and everything to save the young boy.

"Painkillers, coagulates-- grab everything. Emily, I need clean towels, sheets, alcohol. Put him here." Dad said as I hurried up the stairs and to the linen closet. My eyes scanned the many shelves for towels and sheets, but none could be found.

"Dammit, where are the towels?" I growled out in frustration, Maggie popping her head out from dad's room.

"Should all be in the laundry room, Patricia folded some in there." She quickly answered with while I sucked in a deep breath, bolted back down the steep stairs and swung the laundry room door open.

"Towels, towels, towels." I began to repeat out loud as I finally found a clean stack of towels and sheets, throwing them into a wicker basket and running back to the boy and my dad.

"Dad, I couldn't find any alcohol, but here are all the towels, and um and sheets." I stammered while my family gathered around the boy. Relief filling my body as my father announced that he found a heartbeat.

"Step back sir, I got this." I finally stated, gently pushing the man backward and pushing gently down on the wound. Blood was all over the poor child and I knew he was in so much pain, he just couldn't voice it.

"Maggie, I need an IV." Dad started off with while we made space for the equipment. "And your name?"

"Rick, Rick, I-I'm Rick." He stammered and nodded his head.

"Rick? We're gonna do everything we can, okay? You need to give us some room. Now." Dad ordered and Rick hesitated. He didn't want to leave his little boy, I could tell, but he had to trust us. There was no way in hell I was letting this boy die. I lost mine, he didn't need to loose his and he wasn't going to. He needed to know.

"He'll be okay, please, we need our room." I softly spoke and sent the father a sympathetic look. Otis and some other man could be seen running up to the house, but we had no time for greetings, the boy was our number one concern.

I kept my hands firmly on the boy's wound while maggie placed a bag of water on the stand. Rick was slowly creeping back into the room as my father's head shot up.

"Do you know his blood type?"

"A-positive, same as mine." He responded with as my head instantly shot up as well. A-positive was mine and it was pretty much a miracle.

"That's fortunate. Don't wander far. I'll need you." Dad firmly remarked and I lightly tapped his hand raising my eyebrows.

"Daddy, don't. You know I'm A-positive. I can do it. Please let me." I begged and he only sighed. My father hated when I did things like this, but it was only right. He raised me to have good morals, to be a good person and that's what I was doing.

"Emily you--"

"I can do it. When I've donated too much then Rick can help, but that man needs a break. He's been through a lot." I insisted and I only received a sigh in response.

"Fine, what happened?"

"I was tracking a buck. The bullet went right through it. Went clean through." Otis announced while I slowly lifted up the towel and took in the bullet wound.

"Dad, Otis, The deer slowed the bullet down. I think it saved his life." I said with confidence, but my dad only shook his head no. He was the real doctor here so he really knew what happened.

"It didn't go clean through. It broke up into pieces, But if I can get the bullet fragments out... and I'm counting six." dad further explained and Rick seemed to break even more. He swallowed hard and looked at who I guessed was his friend. He was going on about some woman named Lori who turned out be his wife. As he spoke about her not knowing noticeable tears were beginning to fill his eyes and he finally completely broke.

I felt my heart shatter as the scene unfolded and I immediately felt guilty. I spoke to Otis about a deer, I suggested he bring one back and he tried to. Otis tried to bring back a deer because of my statement and it caused this innocent boy to get a bullet in the gut. It was all connected to me and there was no telling me otherwise. They had to know.

"It's my fault," I mumbled out.  

A/N

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