Just Hold On - Daryl Dixon (TWD)

6.

*Lucia's POV*

Everything hurt. My muscles ached from walking and running for so long. My side hurt from the gunshot wound. Every muscle in my body felt like it had been tense for too long and the release was horrible. Like when you have a big adrenaline rush and then you get a migraine after. That's what my whole body felt like.

I could hear murmuring voices from outside of the cell, but couldn't distinguish what was being said. I caught a couple of things here and there like, "when will she be up," and, "will she be okay?"

But do I even want to wake up?

The more I woke up, the more pain I felt. And the physical pain is nothing compared to the reminders of what I did. How will I ever be able to face Daryl? I went out to save Merle, not get him killed. I killed so many people. I watched as my bullets hit them. I watched as their blood sprayed out from them. I watched pieces of their skull land on the grass below them. Their bodies hit the ground with such force.

Those people probably had families. Wives, husbands, kids, brothers, sisters... Maybe they didn't, but I can't help but assume that they did. And I took them away from their families. I ended their lives without even blinking. And I did it to help someone that I wasn't even able to save.

The voices kept getting louder as I came more into consciousness. I still couldn't hear anything they were saying over my deafening thoughts, but I knew that they were there.

My breathing got more ragged as I felt the pain from my wound hit me like a tonne of bricks. I lifted my hands to it, but as soon as my fingertips made contact with my bandaged side, I groaned. My eyes squeezed a little bit tighter and I took in a few deep breaths, being cautious not to irritate my side further. I was too busy focusing on my breathing to notice that people had entered the cell.

"Hello, sweetheart," Hershels calming voice said to me as he stepped closer to the bed.

"Hey," I tried to say, but it came out all scratchy and I'm not even sure he understood what I was saying.

Lillian, John and Daryl stood behind him. Lillian gave me a mean, yet worried look. John's eyes held pity. I couldn't bring myself to look at Daryl.

Hershel reached over to a bench on the other side of the cell and handed me a water bottle.

"You look like shit," Lillian told me while I drank some of the water.

I was caught off guard and some of the water went down the wrong way, causing me to choke slightly. This then caused me to grunt in pain as I leaned back down on the bed to catch my breath.

From the side of my eye, I saw Hershel give Lillian a disapproving look, but that didn't stop her.

"What the hell were you thinking? Do you have some kind of death wish? We were worried sick about you! How could you be so stupid?" She went off on me.

"Lillian! That is enough. I know you're mad, but this is not the time. Get her out of here," Hershel said. John grabbed Lillian's forearm gently and guided her out of the room.

Her words were stuck in my head. My little sister was worried about me and I barely took her into consideration when I made my decision. She thinks I'm stupid. Those words replayed in my head over and over again. So much that I didn't even notice that Hershel had been talking to me.

"Lucia?" He asked.

"Sorry. Yeah?"

"I asked how you're feeling. I'm sure you've got one bad headache."

I nodded my head at the older gentleman.

"Everything hurts. I don't think there's any part of me that isn't aching," I tried to put a funny tone to my voice, but it still sounded pained.