Georgian Redneck

Chapter 16- Break Down The Walls

"...but she'll be okay?" a familiar voice asks. A mans voice. But I can't wrap my head around who it belongs to. They seem so close yet so far away. What's happening to me?

It's like my head is swimming through seas upon seas of different, vivid dreams. But the voice pulls me back to what I know as reality.

I slowly open my hazel eyes and brush the sleep off them. How long have I been out for? I move to sit up, colliding with a pale wall. Looks like I'm already sitting up. And I'm definitely not in mines and Daryls tent. It's too light, and as I said, there's a wall. Also there's not the distinct smell of dirt and grass.

"Don't move. Ya okay?" An urgent, worried, yet somehow stern voice that belongs to the man urges. I've heard that voice before. I'm sure of it. I look around the pale room and locate the person the rough voice belongs to. Daryl.

A sudden feeling of surprise and happiness washes through me. He's here. He's here.

"What... Where am I?" I choke out, clearing my dry throat. It's scratchy and sore. I don't remember it beig this way. I don't like the feeling. It's sort of like when you get a cold and you wake up in the morning, feeling like shit. Or when you wake up with a hangover. Minus the sore head.

"Ya passed out. We're in Hershel's house" he says with worry still evident in his voice, handing me a full glass of clear water. I take the glass with wide eyes and gulp its content down quickly. Refreshing.

But I haven't heard him speak with much emotion in his voice. Especially to me. I like the change. Although I don't want him to ever sound so... sad ever again.

The feeling in my throat is still somewhat there, but it's now tamed and nothing compared to what it was a few seconds ago. But that's not what makes me almost choke. It's the fact that all the memories come flooding back. Pleasant and unpleasant alike.

"So. Let me process this. There are damn WALKERS, in the barn?!" I half-shout/half whisper because someone could be standing behind the door and they could hear. And I don't exactly want to end my little 'hangout' with Daryl.

But does Hershel know that we know? He surely must by now. Oh lord. Why do things always go so bad?

He just nods and walks out of the room, whispering something to some asshat standing outside. Wow, maybe he's the asshat. Rude. It does sort of annoy me that he left, just like that. We still need to talk about the kiss. Or, well, kisses.

And why am I here though? Couldn't they just bring me to the tent? Glenn should be resting. On the topic of Glenn, where the hell is he? I still need to give him a piece of my mind. Now that I think about it, I need to have a chat with quite a few people.

I look at the brown bedside table to see two more glasses of tasty looking water. I probably shouldn't drink them all at once, because I might throw up... I glance at my watch, seeing that I've only been out for a couple of hours. Not as bad as I thought.

But leaning against the windowsill, is Daryls precious, black crossbow. It's not like him to take a step away from it... Let alone leave it unsupervised.

Maybe I should go and give it to him. It's basically a part of him. Or maybe he'll come and get it. And since I don't feel like standing up at this exact moment, I'll opt out for the latter.

"Diana? How you feelin'?" Rick's gruff voice asks as he walks into the room, looking rather annoyed. Maybe just the walkers in the barn. Or the fact that my weak ass can't handle shit. Or maybe the combination of all of the burden he's bearing on his shoulders.

He walks around the double bed and sits on a chair next to the old bookshelf. This is the asshat Daryl whispered to.

"I'm fine. How did I get here, and please explain what happened. Daryl walked out on me." I beg calmly, crossing my arms over my chest. A look of sympathy flashes over Rick's face, before he gives me a slight smile. He's a good leader. Dare I say brilliant. I quite like him.