Angel (Daryl Dixion x Reader)

~20~

   You regained conscious slowly. Clawing for it and in the brain fog, you realized you didn't remember what the hell happened. All you knew was you felt like a bus had hit you, or after ran you slap over. Slowly you forced open your eyes, only to realize you were staring at a
lath and white plaster ceiling. Were you in a house? Your whole body felt horrible, heavy, and sore as Hell. It was like waking up in that small medical tent in Afghanistan all over again. It genuinely takes you a second to notice the blankets over your body. They probably kept your core temperature warm, but you felt cold still, probably from blood loss. Slowly, you work your dominant hand down your leg. Searching for your pistol, only to find it was gone and so was your thigh holster. You forced yourself to sit up, a little too fast apparently because you are met with an intense shock of pain in your right side. So suddenly that takes your breath away. You don't lay back down though. Instead you just curse under your breath a strain of curse words while cradling your bandaged side with your arm.

Your mind was still annoyingly foggy as you attempted to piece together just what exactly had happened. You had no idea how long you'd been out, but you were determined to find out. You stay quiet as you remembered being in the woods looking for Sophia. Vividly remembering a deer, then the sound of a gun shot, and Carl dropping- Carl! You immediately whip the blankets back with your left hand, while keeping your right arm over your bandages. Trying not to move too much because it every minuscule, but necessary moment, hurt like a son of a bitch. You then realize there was an IV pulling at your left hand's skin, and you groan in discomfort before immediately ripping it out. You look around in the bed room you realized you were in, and find that nobody was in there. You also didn't hear any voices within the rest of the house. You thought it was strange, but you shake it off, just needing to make sure your nephew was alive.

Slowly, you slung your legs over the side of the bed, gritting your teeth a the effort to do so. Your bare sock covered feet touch the hard wood floors, and your head instantly starts to spin with dizziness, making you groan a little. You take a deep breath steadying your whirling head when you realize you also didn't have a shirt on. You were in just your black bra with a white bandage wrapped around your ribs and torso. Your cargo pants covered in your long dried blood. Wonderful, you looked about as great as you felt. Very slowly try to force yourself to stand, and find that your whole body feels super weak and very sluggish. The instant your standing, the floor tilts beneath your feet, and you stagger forward. Your hands slam into the door frame, grabbing ahold of it for support so you didn't collapse. You stayed still for a second, panting as you grounded yourself. Your whole body trembling with the forced effort to stay standing up right while your eyes look down a hall way. Only to see the front door wide open, but the screen door closed.

When you pushed off the door frame to try and walk down the hall way, you again staggered forwards. Your whole body bumping into the wall that you were forced to lean against for support as you walk slowly towards the screen door. Your panting heavily by the time you made it to the screen door. Feeling like you'd just ran ten fucking miles before you lean against it. Having to rest for a second or you when you wouldn't be able to beat back the dizziness in your skull. You look around in the house. Seeing a living room to your left that led into a kitten. Nobody was in the house, but you didn't know that Carl was in the room just on your right, because the door had been closed. You catch your breath a little, and you sling open the door. Only to stagger out into the front porch. Having to grab ahold the railing with both hands to support your weight when your legs weaver in warning protest. You're absolutely exhausted now as you pant while looking around the porch for any living person. Where the fucking hell was everyone? Then, your eyes catch the blood stain on the last porch step from you. You knew it was yours, as you vividly remembered thinking you'd die up against that porch piller that also had a streak of dried blood staining the bottom. Whoops- you briefly thought before you spot everyone in the yard. They were all standing around a pile of.. was that rocks? What the Hell?