constant peril → d. dixon

t e n

They could hear things being broken and shattered inside the houses.
Down the street, a man could be seen standing over the body of an Alexandrian, hacking the corpse into pieces with heavy swings of a hatchet. Maisie could see it was Eric's body. Aaron would be crushed.

Maisie swiftly blocked Jackson from hopping out of the RV and closed the door on him.

"Move out!" she shouted at her comrades, bolting to the left with her hand on her knife as they dispersed.

At the sound of running footsteps behind her, she turned to see it was only Daryl. Maisie gave him a look and they continued on.

"Daryl, wait," Maisie said, slowing to a stop at the armory; on the side of the wall, the words:

LONG LIVE THE WOLVES

were emblazoned over the painted bricks; the letters had dripped, giving the words a sinister look. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was written in blood.

Engrossed in the writing on the wall, neither of them heard the man's approach until his knife was slicing deep into Maisie's stomach and cutting to her hip as he ran past. The man turned to watch her stumble back into Daryl, her hand pressed to her abdomen. She glimpsed his face; it was the man who had held her at knife point just over a month ago.

Daryl hesitated, looking between Maisie and her fleeing attacker.

"Go!" Maisie panted, blood spilling between her fingers.

In a last ditch effort to help her, Daryl hurriedly carried Maisie into the armory and sat her on the floor against the wall.

"I'll come back for you, alright?" he told her, before he closed the door and ran in the direction of Maisie's assailant. He was determined to kill the son of a bitch himself.

Shrouded in the darkness, the sounds of shouts and gunfire stayed with her until she slowly lost consciousness.

〄

Daryl had no idea how much time had passed, but they managed to kill the remaining wolves, minus the few who had climbed the fence and escaped.

"What the hell was that?" Deanna demanded. Even her prim and proper cardigan and tank top was blood splattered.

"I don't know," Rick told her. Deanna was pissed. They'd lost many Alexandrians in the wolf attack.

"Where're you going?" Rick shouted after Daryl as he ran away.

"I gotta situation!" Daryl called back.

He skidded to a stop infront of the armory and threw open the door, surveying the scene inside.
Maisie's head had tipped to the side and blood continued to spill from under her shirt.

"Shit, shit, shit, stay with me," Daryl commanded her, kneeling down and hooking his thick arms under her knees and around her back.

Her head bumped against his shoulder as he ran to the house they used as the infirmary. When Daryl lumbered in, conversation stopped.

"Well?" he snapped, prompting them all to spring into action.

"Bring her over here," Denise ordered, wheeling a bed closer to him.

As he laid her down, he revealed the extense of her blood loss; his clothes and hers shined with dark blood, and her skin paled to a sickly grey tone.

"What happened?" Rick asked, putting a hand on Daryl's shoulder.

"A wolf cut 'er as he ran past."

"Its deep," Denise muttered to herself, putting a needle into Maisie's wrist for an IV.

He hadn't noticed before but the makeshift infirmary had the majority of what you would see in a typical hospital room.

"She needs blood," Denise said, her eyes and voice panicked.

"What type?" Rick asked the woman.

Denise started to form the words, I'm not sure, when a small groan interrupted her. Maisie.

"Maisie, Maisie, stay with me. I need to know your blood type."

"B n-neg—," Maisie stuttered quietly.

"B negative— who also has that blood type?"

"I do," a voice piped up from the corner. They turned and saw Tara standing shyly by the medicine cabinet.

"Come here," Denise told her. And she did. Tara sat on the stool next to Maisie's bed and stuck her arm out.

〄

Tara's blood was a perfect match for Maisie. Once they knew the blonde was out of the woods, they all breathed a little easier. Except when Glenn burst in and startled them all.

"Carl just told me Maisie's in here."

Wordlessly, Rosita jerked her head to the left. Glenn turned and saw Maisie sleeping with a blanket pulled up to her ribcage.

Maisie's eyes fluttered open as Glenn made his approach, tiptoeing like he was walking on eggshells. He gave up the tiptoeing with a bashful smirk and closed the distance between them with a few strides, wrapping his arms around her when he got to her.

"What happened to you, Mais?" Glenn asked her, pulling away and sitting on the stool beside her.

"I got cut up pretty bad, been sleeping forever," she told him.

"Daryl was in here the whole time while you slept, never left that spot," Tara informed her, nodding at the green leather armchair by the window.

"Really?"

"Yup. Finally got him to leave and go get some sleep himself like twenty minutes ago."

"Huh," Maisie muttered to herself as the door swung open and Abraham walked in, followed by Eugene.

"You alright, kid?"

"Right as rain," Maisie replied, watching the smile in his eyes.

"You will heal soon, your wound was not as severe as it could have been," Eugene said suddenly, bluntly. Maisie ignored him.

"Alright, there are far too many people in here," Denise snapped as she walked in.

Glenn was the first to leave. "I'll come back later and help you get home, alright?"

"Alright." And he left.

Abraham held up two fingers to her before he left, and she returned the gesture, a small smile curling her lips.

"What was that for?" Eugene asked loudly as he followed Abraham off the porch.

"You sure do get a lot of visitors," Denise remarked, giving her a small smile.

"Yeah, yeah, I do," Maisie muttered quietly, more to herself than Denise.

Maisie had established connections with people in the group, whether it be her strong friendship with Glenn, or the two fingers with Abraham.
She was no longer the newcomer, she was family.

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i really like this chapter yayayayayayay

don't forget to vote if you think the chapter deserved it and i always appreciate comments and feedback very much.

-shelby♡