Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

Wait and See

By the time we made it back to Alexandria daylight had long since bled into nightfall.  Rick hadn't returned from his visit with the Garbage Pail Kids putting the entire community on edge.  The same worry reflected on Deadpool's face I felt in my heart. 

"He'll be alright," I said, squeezing her hand.  She didn't reply, lips pressed together in a hard line to conceal the way they were shaking.  "He will."

She glanced at me, tears brimming in her dark eyes.  "Thank you."

"Always."

Carl had taken his role as the leader of Alexandria seriously while we'd been gone.  I didn't know if it was lack of faith in our victory that drove the young man to develop a backup plan or just plain survival instinct.  Either way I was glad for it.

"Should head inside, get cleaned up," Daryl suggested, looking pointedly at my hastily bandaged arm.  "We got this."

I nodded at him, heading for the house.  I was halfway to the door leading to the basement when I felt a prickling sensation travel down my spine.  Pivoting on my heel I drew my weapon, ready to face whatever, whoever, was watching me.

"I surrender."

I exhaled harshly, glaring at Carl who merely smiled.  "Not funny."

He was tucked in the corner of the dining room, a pile of papers in his lap and a pen in his hand.  I approached him slowly, taking in his sweaty, pale face, and slumped body language.  He looked...troubled.

"What's up?"

He said nothing, deliberately setting the folded piece of paper with "Dad" prominently written across the top on the floor so I could see it.  My eyes flicked rapidly between the stack of notes and Carl, brow furrowed.  Still, he said nothing, offering me a sad smile that made my heart beat erratically in my chest.

"Carl..."

"I wrote one for you too."  I shook my head wildly back-and-forth, closing the distance between us and squatting down in front of him.  "You kept your promise to her."  My breathing was coming far too fast, my vision tunneling to pinholes, but the young man sitting in front of me showed no sign of distress.  "I was so lucky to have you Aunt Alex," he finished, handing me a note with my name written on it.

I froze, my mind focused on only one detail, one word, was. 

I ignored his outstretched hand, focusing instead on the small red stain on his shirt near his abdomen.  I swallowed hard, reaching forward with agonizing slowness.  He made no move to stop me or expedite the process as I gently pulled the shirt up, revealing a white bandage that was soaked through with blood.  Peeling back the tape I examined the wound, three gashed of differing lengths traveling diagonally across his belly and ending near his hip.  One looked fairly deep, like it might need stitches while the other two were swallow, but no less jagged.  The injury was inflamed, red and angry around the edges.

I held my breath, my trembling hand reaching down until it was hovering just over top of the cuts.  I held out three fingers, mirroring the path of the wound as it traveled down his side.  The spacing was almost identically to what it would look like if someone drug their fingernails across his belly.

Wordlessly I put the bandage back in place, gently lowering his shirt.  My legs collapsed under me and I sank to the ground, back pressed against the wall next to him.

"I was trying to help Siddiq."  It was like he knew I needed to know the details even though I wouldn't have been able to form the words if both our lives depended on it.  "We were on our way back when we stumbled across a few walkers.  I slipped, a few got on top of me, and..."