Mushaboom • Daryl Dixon

41

Daryl

By the time I got to the main entrance of the hospital, I must've stopped seven times, I turned around once. But I had to.. I had to go. I had to get outta here.

I dragged my feet over to the pay phone and called Jess. He picked up on the fifth ring; he asked where I had been and I almost laughed. I told him to pick me up near Rachel's in a couple hours. I didn't bother telling him anything.

I started down the road. My body ached, I wanted to stop. To go back to the hospital- to see Rachel.. I couldn't.

It took me a good forty minutes to walk to her house. I saw her grandparent's car parked in front. They were probably there with the kids. I snuck around to the side where Rachel's window was. It was still unlocked from two nights before. It didn't make sense, how things could go so wrong that quickly. We were just in bed, talking, sleeping. Everything was good-

Fuck.

I pushed my thoughts away and slid her window open as quiet as I could. It took a lot to get me through that window, but I managed. I could hear the tv going from the the living room, they wouldn't hear me.. I quickly closed the door and let out a breath I had been holding. I looked around at the room I had become so familiar with over the years. I felt safe there, I always had. I walked up to the bed that was still unmade from the last time we used it.

I inched over to the bed and carefully laid down. I sighed and closed my eyes. My bad arm was hit with a random sharp pain and I looked at the bandage. I tugged at it, while giving into my thoughts.. I thought back to the other night.

Holding her close, our legs tangled with each other's, her face was nuzzled into my neck. Her warmth, her touch. Her lips on my neck.. and when she pulled away, she smiled at me-

I dropped my hand from my arm and fidgeted with the pillow beside me. I turned, winced at the soreness but pressed my face into the pillow. Her scent was etched onto the sheets, I breathed it in, gripped them in my hand. I wanted her here. I wanted her more than anything.

I looked up to her wall and stared at all her pictures she had taken. I was in a lot of them.. most unwillingly to my amusement. Her life was on that wall, and she had let me be apart of it. Maybe I could talk to John..

No. This was a long time coming. I wanted so bad to be what she'd need. I wanted to protect her, to take care of her. I wanted that so fucking bad. My mind wandered to a time we had been sitting in here. We were listening to music, it was a quiet night, but it was nice. I had grabbed her camera and took pictures of her while she'd look through her music selection. 

I sat up and reached over for the shoe box that was on the side of her bed. It was full of pictures. I sat up against the bed frame and took my time going through them all. Looking for those pictures. I found them. And stared at the one I took when she glanced over to me, asking which album I preferred. Strands of hair covered part of her face, but the shot was clear. She looked content, and she looked real. My Rachel.. I slid that one into my pocket.. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't want this.

I looked back up to the wall, to the picture of the two of us over by the bridge. I was giving her a piggyback, and she kissed my cheek. And she caught the moment. I was smiling, she was too while she had her lips on me, her eyes closed but still had a smile showing through with crinkles at the ends. I reached for the picture and took it down. I stared for a beat. I grabbed a pen that was on her night stand and flipped the picture over, using the box to write on. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't want this.