The falling sun shone through the colorful leaves on the tall towering trees. Tones of red and shades of yellow and orange lighting the path you stumbled along beside Daryl.
Although the season that engulfed you both was no doubt Autumn, it felt more like winter. The wind that blew the fallen crunchy leaves around in the air was harsh and powerful. Cold and bitter as it nipped at your bare ears and neck.
"Need ta stop?" Daryl asks, stopping as his arms still hold you upright.
Shaking your head, you let out a shallow breath. "No, it's only a few more steps."
The abandoned house was so close that you could see the front door from where you stood, but with the harsh virus taking over your body each step felt like a mile. You had both been staying at this empty house for a week now, the shelter stable and safe.
Four days ago was when you first started feeling the syptoms of the harsh-- what you guessed to be-- flu. The first day feeling like the common cold, until your body went weak and you couldn't keep any solids down. You were fading; pale, weak and your entire body groaned in pain.
You had insisted on going with Daryl when he said he found a pharmacy not far away, medicine the thing you needed desperately. He told you to stay behind, begged you to stay behind but like him you were stubborn. And went anyway.
"Told ye that ye shoulda stayed at the house." Daryl mumbles under his breath as you both approach the house.
"So," You inhale deeply only to cough the air back out harshly. "You're a "I told you so" kinda guy huh?"
Daryl grunted as he opened up the front door, the slight musty scent the house held washing over you both as you stepped in.
Daryl leads you up the wooden staircase, turning down the hallway that is decorated in old and peeling wallpaper. Down to the room you had been resting in, opening the door he helps you back to the queen sized bed.
Pulling back the covers and taking off your coat and boots, you slip under the warm sheets. Your mind feels cloudy, and your head swirls. You are so drowsy that you don't remember Daryl tucking the sheets around you, sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of the room as you fall asleep and leaving a while later.
When you finally wake, the room is quiet and dark. The only sounds coming from the wind outside and the creaking from the old house. Sitting up, you feel as weak as you did but still sit all the way up. You are tired and you know you need rest, but for some reason you can't fall back asleep. Maybe it's the fact that you're sick, or maybe it's the house. Maybe it's the dead quiet or perhaps the fact that Daryl isn't here.
Sliding to the edge of the bed, you swing your legs over and they dangle over for a moment as you gain some strength. Just as you're about to push your body up from the mattress, the oak wood door swings open.
"What are ye doin?" Daryl asks and sets a bowl and small bottle of something down on the dresser in the corner.
"I," You're cut off by a loud cough escaping you. "I was getting up to find you."
"Find me?" Daryl asks as if you're crazy. "I've been here, ain't gone nowhere."
Shaking his head at you, he walks over to the side of the bed you are sitting on. "Ye need ta stay in bed."
His hands grip your ankles gently and swing them back under the sheets, pulling the fabric over you once again.
"You weren't here when I woke," You say, resting your head back against the headboard. You want to say more, but don't know what to say. You were worried, you were wishing he had stayed... It all seemed too embarrassing to tell him.
"Went down ta get ye something to eat." Daryl walks over to the dresser and grabs the bowl. Being it over, he sits on the open side of the bed. Handing the small rust red bowl to you, it's filled with soup.
"Eat." Daryl demands and you wonder if he's going to watch you the entire time. Slowly but surely, you lift the bowl to your lips and take a small sip. Canned and cold, but soup nonetheless.
Daryl sits there patiently as you eat, looking at you and then around the room and down at his hands in his lap. He doesn't leave, just sits there with you.
Once you've eaten as much as you can muster and hold down, you hand the bowl back to him.
"Thank you." You say and he shrugs, avoiding eye contact as he stands to place the bowl back down on the dresser.
"Gotta eat." He mumbles and turns back to you, resuming his spot on the bed.
"Not just for the food," You say before sneezing, and coughing heavily again. "But for taking care of me."
"You could've left me out there," You shake your head, looking down at your fingers and back up at him. "But you didn't."
"You found us shelter, you found us food and you went searching for medicine for me. You haven't left me. Thank you."
Daryl's eyes lock with yours and you read his blue eyes as if they were a book wide open. His eyes speak the words his mouth can't say, but that's okay. The way he looks at you now, you know he's telling you he cares for you. That he wouldn't have just left you.
"Ye need sleep," Daryl tells you, but doesn't look away.
Laying down, you rest your head on the pillow and Daryl stands up.
"Don't leave." Your voice is small and timid, so quiet you wonder if he even heard you. But when he takes a seat in the rocking chair across the room, you know he heard you.
"Ain't goin nowhere."
A/N: I wasn't sure about this one, but after rereading it a few times, I actually kind of like it!
