Farmer's Daughter (Daryl Dixon Love Story)

Chapter 65

Melinda POV

"Melinda?" I hear a soft voice behind me. I turn to see Beth's soft face at the top of the stairs.

"Hey Beth." I lightly smile in her direction. I look back down to Daryl. He had enough blood transfused yesterday to bring back the color in his face, making dad think that he would be perfectly fine now, that all he needed was rest to heal.

"Were worried about you." I feel her stare at the back of my head.

"I'm fine." I whisper. It was a lie.

"You haven't slept. You're covered in blood. You haven't moved from that spot since you got up here." She quickly speaks as she steps closer.

"I brought up some clothes. Why don't you go get cleaned up? Take a nap? We'll keep an eye on him." She pleads. "Please."

"I'm not moving until he wakes up." I turn my head back to look at her worried face. "I know they sent you up here because they thought I'd listen to you. But I'm not leaving his side." I turn my back to her and pull the jacket Merle had given me closer to my body.

"I'll just leave these right here then." She puts the clothes down on the floor and turns away. I hear her feet tap the stairs as she goes down them.

I let out a sigh, looking down at his exposed chest. It slowly arose and fell with each passing second. I lay my hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat as it stayed a steady pace.

"I'm sorry." I whisper to his still body. "I should have been more careful. Maybe this would have never happened to you." I move the hair from his face.

"Maybe if I would have stayed behind you, it would be me instead." The guilt dripped off of me like rain falls on a cloudy day. I kept replaying it over and over in my head. His eyes cut my memory like a knife, all I could see and remember was the pain in them.

"You've got to wake up soon. We need you here." I play with the stands of hair at his face. "I need you."

"We've been through too much together. I should have known that this wouldn't stop you." My teeth shown through my lips as I look down at my free hand.

"He's a Dixon. Too hardheaded and too stubborn to give up that easy." I turn to see the face behind the voice. Merle stands against a far wall, his arms semi crossed.

He stalks over and sits on the other side of him, taking in his appearance.

"He looks like shit." He reaches up and lifts his eyelid, looking into his pale eyes.

"He looks better than he did yesterday." I shrug his comment off. "He's got his color back now."

He nods his head understandingly before fixating his eyes on me.

"Blondie, this is the second time I've seen you shirtless. We've really got to work on these meetings." I look down at the broken zipper and frown. I pull it closed and cross my arms together.

"You're a perv." I softly joke. He shrugs his shoulders, a crooked smile coming to his face.

"It ain't gonna change anytime soon." I smile at his honesty.

"Y'all got the same battle wounds now." He switches topics.

"Do what?" I question. He points down to Daryl's wounds.

"Y'all got shot in the same place." I look down to his wounds, memories of my own flash in my mind.

"He's lucky it went through. Mine didn't." I remember the pain so clearly. Making me realize exactly how Daryl feels right now.

"Look." He brings my attention to Daryl's face. I could clearly see his eyes moving around under the lids.

"Dad!" I yell behind me. I sit up on my knees and lean closer to the man bellow me.

"Daryl?" I softly rub his cheek to try to get him to come to. His eyes softly open and a groan leaves his lips.

"Hey." I smile down at him. "God it's so good to see you awake."

"What the fuck happened?" He groans in pain.

"We were in that store. Someone snuck up behind us and shot you. The bullet passed through and dad said you should be fine to move around in a few days." I pull back from in front of his face, giving him room to breathe and process his surroundings.

"The mother fucker dead?" He stares up at the ceiling, his brows pulled together.

"Yeah." I shortly answer.

"How you feeling Daryl?" Dads gentle voice comes from behind me. I turn to see he has a bottle of Tylenol in his hands, along with a bottle of water.

"Like shit." He simply states. Dad ignores his statement, already knowing he'd say something along those lines.

"Here, take these." He hands Daryl two pills from the bottle. I scoot behind him and help him sit up. He curses under his breath, but doesn't fuss anymore after.

He swallows them, along with the rest of the water in the bottle. He tosses the empty bottle to the side and leans his head back against my chest.

"You're going to have to lay here for a few days while your stitches start to heal. If the wound doesn't get infected, and if you feel up to it, you can move around the house and maybe go outside. No heavy lifting and no stress on those stitches." Daryl nods his head at dad, telling him he understood. Dad takes this time to make his get away, and drifts down the stairs.

"This is going to be a living hell." He grumbles.

A/N

Alright, short. But I wanted to get it out of the way so we could get to the good parts.

Comment and vote little doves.

-Melinda