He was broken down, but not defeated. That was the first thing you noticed when you met the newest prisoner. It wasn't the swollen bags puffed up under his mesmerizing blue eyes, screaming for the sleep that his body desperately needed. It wasn't the way his skin was caked in dirt and sweat, or the duisgusting sweatsuit they made him wear. It wasn't even the hair that was soaked in sweat and lathered in grease, that hung low over his face.
The first thing that stood out about this man who stood slouched in the doorway, was the fact that he looked weak from the cruelty he was experencing yet he didn't look ready to give up.
"Hey Doc." Dwight greets you as he pushes the man towards you.
"Morning Dwight," You reply but don't look up from washing your hands in the small sink.
"You can take a seat." You say softly to the man, as you dry your hands with a paper towel.
The man stared at you for moment, before hesitantly taking a seat on the cot in front of him.
"Just needs a new bandage, nothing more." Your eyes look up through your long lashes at Dwight, raising an eyebrow at the man.
"You telling me how to do my job Dwight? I'm sure Negan wouldn't like to hear that." You mutter, knowing the mention of Negan will get him to listen.
"You can step out." You tell him as he hovers with his new found crossbow in the doorway.
"Got to keep eyes on the prisoner--"
"I can't do my job with you standing there, now step out or I'll have to give Negan a call."
Dwight sighs and reluctantly leaves. Waiting in the hallway as you move to close the door to the small office.
"Sorry about that," You smile shyly at the patient. "That man gets on my nerves."
Grabbing clean gloves, you slip them on and walk over to the man sitting anxiously on the edge of the cot. "What's your name?"
The man does not answer, instead just looks down at his hands that lay in his lap.
Pulling the right side of his sweatshirt down so you can get to his shoulder, he tenses underneath your touch.
"I need to take a look," You assure him calmly. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Can you take the top off for me? So I can look at your wound better?" You ask him gently, gesturing to the heavy sweatshirt he wears. No doubt sweltering in it.
The man sits still, considering your request. And slowly you see his hands inching the sweatshirt off slowly. Once completely off, leaving him bare you see that what lies underneath is worse than you were expecting.
His entire chest, torso and back are coated in dark dirt. Bruises along some of his ribs and traces of vomit lingering on the skin around his neck that moves onto his chest.
The odor radiating off of him is sickening, a stench of sweat the strongest. Next was the reek of vomit and the smell of what you could only assume was urine. His own or someone's else's you weren't quite sure.
A stained patch covered a small section of his chest, and you knew by the level of filth layering this man that he was bound to develop an infection. You carefully pull it off and inspect the wound.
"Tell me if it hurts okay." You tell the man as you gently press around to check his healing process.
You can see out of the corner of your eye as you work to clean the area, the man's eyes looking up through his shadowy locks at you. Studying you and perhaps the fact that you were concerned about hurting him.
Walking over to a small cabinet, you grab a new piece of gauze and some tape to patch him up again. But as you stand there, glance back at the man on the table, you reach up once more to grab a cup. Turning the faucet on, you fill the cup to the rim with cool water.
Walking back, you set the medical supplies on the table beside him and extend your hand that holds the cup of water towards him.
"Drink this," You tell him, and he looks up at you wearily. "You're dehydrated, drink."
The man slowly reaches out to grab hold of the cup, and chugs it down in a single breath. And that in itself confirms your suspicions. That haven't been giving him anything to drink.
"Have they been feeding you?" You ask, as you place the new piece of gauze over his injury and tape it onto his skin.
The man holds the cup in his hands and looks away from you gaze.
Sighing, you take back the cup and go over to the sink. Filling it back up with water, you open a second cabinet and grab a protein bar. You kept snacks like that for those who were diabetic or needed crackers when sick.
Walking back to the man, you hand him the newly filled cup of water and the bar. "You need something in you beside those "sandwiches" they gave you."
His eyes snap up to yours, not knowing that you knew of the disgusting dogfood on stale bread they gave him. And then his expression shifted, he looked embarrassed. Ashamed of looking this way in front of you and ashamed that he ate the shit they gave him, even if it was for survival.
He ripped open the packaging and took a bite, chewing it quickly. Washing it down just as fast with the new stream of cold water.
"I'm sorry," You whisper to the man who sits in front of you. "I'm sorry that this is happening to you."
The man stops chewing, then swallows slowly as he stares at you. "Don't know me."
His voice is surprisingly calm, low and gruff. A deep southern accent floods his short words and you're surprised he's able to talk so easily with everything done to him.
"I don't," You shake your head, locking eyes with the prisoner in front of you. "But I know that no one deserves to be treated this way."
You can see just by looking at him, that he isn't like the others. This man is good, he doesn't derserve the hell he's been given here. He had something Negan doesn't, something Negan fears... That's why he's torturing him.
Just as you're about to turn around to grab some pain medicine from the cabinet for the man, he speaks up lowly.
"Daryl."
He looked up at you when you turned around, and there in the deep depths of blue in his eyes you see his small amount of gratitude towards you. Unable to express his appreciation, his eyes speaks for him. Thanking you not only for giving him water and something to help fuel his body just a little bit more. But for offering him an ounce of kindness in a place like this.
A/N: I really like this one!
