Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

Survivor's Guilt

"How ya feelin'?"

I squinted in Merle's general direction, shrugging.  "I think it's getting better.  Instead of a big dark blur I see a big light blur."

"How many fingers am I holdin' up?"

"One."  I held up my middle finger, shooting him the bird with a sly smirk.

He inhaled sharply.  "Ya could see that?"

I rolled my eyes.  "No, I just know you."

He grunted, unconvinced regarding my self-proclaimed progress.  Ignoring his skepticism, I threw the comforter off and swung my legs to the floor. 

"What the hell ya doin'?"

"Getting up."  He made a distressed sound I chose to ignore.  "Gimme a hand would you?"

"I don't know Firecracker, the doc said ya ain't supposed to be up and about."

Disregarding his words of caution I pushed off the mattress and tried to stand on my own.  A wave of dizziness made my vision blurry and I yelped, arms flailing while I blindly fumbled for something to stop my fall.  Merle's flesh hand wrapped around my forearm, steadying me and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thanks."  He didn't reply, but I could practically feel his disapproval radiating off of him in redneck waves.  "What Sid doesn't know won't hurt him." 

"Where ya goin'?"

"Rick," I grunted, taking a small step forward, beads of sweat already forming on my forehead.  I'd only taken a few steps, but it felt like I'd run a marathon.  This recovery was going to suck balls. 

My brother-in-law merely sighed, guiding me out of the room and down the hall without further protest.  I'd yet to visit Rick despite being awake for days now because Sid and Daryl hovered better than a pair of twin momma birds.  The only reason I was able to stage this prison break was I insisted Daryl shower and eat while I promised to nap.  He reluctantly agreed, but only if his older brother agreed to watch me.  That plan was doomed from the get-go. 

By the time we finished the short walk down the hall I was panting heavily, and my legs felt like Jell-O.  In hindsight, maybe Sid was on to something about taking it slow.

"I gotta do more cardio," I wheezed, bending over and bracing my hands on my knees despite the twinge of pain it caused in my ribs.

Merle snorted, knocking softly on the door before opening it.  A chair scrapped across the floor and I turned in the direction of the sound.  I saw a blob stand, outlined by the harsh sunlight streaming through the wall of windows behind the person.

"Alex, what..."  Deadpool sounded terrible and my heart broke for my friend.  "Siddiq is gonna have your ass Merle."

"Better him than her," he dismissed casually, guiding me further into the room.  "Chair."

My hands bumped against a wooden chair and I nodded before practically falling into it.  "Thanks."

"Holler if ya need me."

With that Merle quietly left the room.  I heard Deadpool walking towards me, her sniffles and heavy steps a testament to her exhaustion.  If she was anything like Daryl she'd hardly slept and barely ate in days.  She squatted down in front of me, taking my hands in hers.

"How are you?"

"I'm good," I lied, blinking rapidly like it might somehow improve my vision.

"Siddiq said your vision is getting better."  There was a HIPAA complaint in there somewhere.  I nodded with a half-hearted shrug.  It was getting better but not at the speed I'd hoped.  "I haven't said thank you."