Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

Keep My Head Above Water

Our second attempt at recruiting was cut short a few days later when Aaron's beat-up Sedan stalled a few miles outside Alexandria. Thankfully there wasn't a car or bike Daryl couldn't fix using nothing but duct tape and a healthy dose of hotness.

Aaron and I stood on the side of the road for a half-hour admiring his ass unapologetically while he diligently worked under the hood. He was oblivious to our fawning, all his focus on the smouldering engine. He occasionally cursed in frustration, asking for more duct tape, or requesting a different tool. It was hard work snapping out my sexual fantasy to retrieve a screwdriver, but somehow I managed. Aaron...not so much.

My grandparents grew up during the Great Depression, and used to say that when you didn't have resources you became resourceful. Daryl might not have grown up in the Great Depression, but he grew up without, and therefore knew how to make due with very little, sometimes nothing at all. Less than two hours after the engine practically exploded he had it purring like a cat with a sinus infection.

By the time we limped the vehicle through the gates it was early afternoon. We met Ariel and Merle's convoy outside the gate. My pulse skyrocketed when I saw the enormous red-head step out of a car covered in blood. There should be no blood. They were on the construction crew. Today was supposed to be nothing more than retrieving supplies. A milk run.

Daryl hadn't even stopped the bike when I jumped off, frantically scanning the line of cars and trucks stacked with building supplies.

"Merle!"

I pushed people out of the way looking for my brother-in-law, but I didn't see him anywhere, and the knot of dread in my stomach expanded exponentially. The longer I searched and couldn't find him the more it felt like someone was choking me. My heart was racing, and there was a very real possibility I was going to cry or kill someone in the very near future. I told myself he was fine, that nothing could kill Merle but Merle in an attempt to calm down. The alternate was too paralyzing to even consider.

"Where is he?!" Daryl shouted at Ariel, his arm snaking around my waist. I leaned into him, my brain short-circuiting with every awful possibility. He was fine. He had to be.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking."

"Where?!" Daryl growled.

Ariel raised a red eyebrow, cocking a bear paw on his hip in annoyance with our lack of concern over his well-being. He pointed at the rear of the convoy, adding a heavy sigh I totally ignored. I bolted out of Daryl's arms, my feet barely touching the ground in my haste. When I rounded the truck I skidded to a stop, gasping in a lung full of air, hastily slapping my hands over my eyes to block out the gruesome scene.

"Oh my god, my eyes!" I cried, turning around just to ensure I never, ever, had to see something like this again.

Daryl slammed into me, and I stumbled back, but refused to uncover my eyes less I see something that haunted my nightmares.

Could you go blind from shock?

Daryl righted me at the last second, one hand on my arm, the other firmly on my hip. I could feel the surprise coming from him, and echoed that thought, and about a million more. There were some things you simply couldn't "un-see", and Merle swapping spit with a petite woman with short, dark brown hair was one of those things.

"Jesus Christ Firecracker," Merle grumbled. Daryl's surprise quickly morphed into voracious laughter. "Ya can put yur hands down."

"No way."

I wasn't risking it. What if they still had their tongues out? What if "other things" were out? Oh my god the horror. I'd figure out a way to live like this. It couldn't be that hard.