Zedler, M.D. // Daryl Dixon

Chapter Fifty-Four: War Paint

•fifty-four•

Beatrix

"Come on," Daryl says quietly as he shakes my shoulders. "Get up."

I groan, rolling over to face him as he stands over me on my side of the bed. After stretching my arms, I push myself to sit up, letting my legs dangle off of the side of the bed. It's too early for this; I don't want to be up.

"I'm leaving," Daryl tells me, causing me to look up at him with a frown.

"I don't want you to," I mumble, patting the bed beside of me for him to sit down. When he does, I lean my head on his shoulder. "But I know you have to."

"We'll be fine," he replies, staring into the wall in front of us. "Your brother is going too."

"I know. I don't want him to go either," I let out a quiet giggle as I reach for his hand, holding it in between my two hands. "But nothing will ever change unless we make it change, so someone has to do it."

"I'm just glad it ain't you," he says, holding onto one of my hands. "You stay safe here, all right?"

"I will, Daryl. Merle will be here. He will make sure I'm safe," I reassure him. The last thing we need is for him not to be focused when he's around The Governor.

"I know," he replies before pulling away from me and standing up. The missing warmth makes me sad, but I understand he has to go.

"Please be safe," I tell Daryl again as I stand up and wrap my arms around him.

"I always am," he smirks as he hugs me back.

As I pull back I try to take in everything about him, just in case something happens. I run my fingers through his hair and then trace the lines of his face, storing the information in the back of my mind, hoping that I will never need to use it. Closing my eyes, I make sure I memorize every part of him.

"You okay?" He asks, shaking my shoulder a bit.

"Yeah," I shake my head, replacing my facial expressions with a smile. "I just love you."

"Love you too," he says back, with the corners of his mouth barely turning up. It's so cute when he does that.

"Come on," I say, pressing my lips firmly to his before grabbing his hand and walking out of the cell.

We walk around the corner and down the stairs to meet everybody else in the dining room. I frown when I see Baxly strapped up with a basically whole arsenal on him. He's wearing one of those cross cross straps that fits around your upper body in an "x" shape, the kind that holds a bunch of knives and ammo. I'm not sure what it's called but he looks prepared with it on. He also has a handgun tucked into a strap on his belt, along with another long knife. Thrown over is shoulder is a sniper rifle.

"Took ya long enough to get up," Baxly smirks at me.

"Stop, Bax," I roll my eyes. "I don't like this."

"Don't worry," is all he says before turning back to talk to Merle. I'm glad they're become friends; they're actually a lot alike.

I sigh, watching as the rest of the group arms themselves. None of the others are as armed as Baxly is, but I guess that's because Baxly is staying hidden. I know he's capable, but it still worries me that he's going to be out there alone. Taking in a deep breath, I walk over to Rick, almost dreading having to talk to him.

"Please promise me you'll stay safe, Rick," I say as he loops his belt around his waist, equipping him with a hunting knife and his handgun. He's a lot less armed than Daryl and Baxly.