Healing Broken Wings [Daryl Dixon] The Walking Dead

Three| Rollercoaster Of Emotions

🌱Kristina🌱

I open my eyes to sunlight streaming in through the cracks in the wood, boarding up the windows. I look around momentarily confused. I glance down and see Daryl asleep, sitting upright on the floor. I notice that my hand is still in his. I give a small smile, I thank God that Daryl appeared in my life, he saved me and nursed me back to health even though he didn't have to.

I gently slip my hand out from his and sit up, I lean down and carefully take his crossbow, I've woken him up once, while he was sleeping on the couch crossbow in hand. He jumped up and fired, being startled. Thankfully it hit the wall, nowhere near me. Even though he did not say it, I could tell he felt extremely guilty and beat himself up over it.

"Daryl," I whisper to him and ruffle his short hair. He jolts awake his hands reaching for his crossbow only to find it's not there. I hold up the crossbow and shake it a little, causing the arrows to make noise. He looks at me and I see him visibly relax.

"Sorry, I just didn't want you shooting another crossbow bolt." He sighs, resting his head on the bed. He nods his head and I hand him back his crossbow. "Sorry," he whispers and I shake my head.

"Daryl it's the end of the world, I think it's a little bit of a good thing that some noises make you reach for the trigger, that could save your life one day. But you should slow down a bit, just enough to distinguish if that noise should make you reach for your weapon." He nods his head and stands up.

I gaze up at him, he runs his hand through his hair. "Get ready for the day, you'll need to lead the way to your camp after all." I nod and he gives me a small smile before ruffling my hair. I wave him away, pretending to be annoyed but really it makes me happy that we've become such good friends in a short time.

I really don't know where I would be without him. I stand up and shoo him out. I close the door and change into a gray long sleeve shirt, jeans, and a black jacket. I pull on my shoes and holster. I slip my pistol into the holster. I open the door and step into the hall. "Daryl? I'm ready to go!"

I check the bathroom, he's not there, I go and check the kitchen and living room but still don't find him. Maybe he's outside. I grab my baseball bat, it's sometimes better than drawing walkers to us with my gun. I open the door, closing it behind me.

I look out into the yard and don't see him, he's not in his truck. I suddenly hear snarling to my left, I turn and scream as a walker lunges at me. I fall backward, using my bat, pressing against the walker's chest, keeping it from biting me, try as it might. Its arms seem to be broken and unusable, I'm happy about that, grateful it can't scratch at me.

"Kristina!" I look and see Daryl running towards me. I hold the walker farther away from me. Once Daryl reaches me, he kicks the walker off me and shoots an arrow into its head. I sigh and let the bat clatter to the ground.

Daryl kneels down beside me, looking me over anxiously. "Kristina, are you hurt, bit?" I breathe deeply and shake my head. "The bat kept it away from me long enough for you to get here," I say and Daryl sighs. I sit up and Daryl sighs again in relief.

"I'm sorry, I can't believe I missed him." I shake my head. "It's alright, Daryl, I'm fine." I breathe deeply, resting my forehead on his shoulder for a minute. He did his best to comfort me, in his own way. He stayed silent until I pulled away. He helped me stand up, together we walk to Daryl's truck.

I get into the passenger seat and Daryl gets into the driver's seat. I talk a little with him but we settle into a comfortable silence. I see a little way up the road, a parked car, I see men standing around it. "Stop!" I shout and Daryl brings the car to a stop. He looks from the men up ahead to me.