Dead Man Walking | Rick Grimes

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It's felt like forever since I've been in this part of the prison. I've felt like a lion cooped up in a small cage. I pushed through the cell door of cellblock C, anxious to see the sun. It's been a week and a half, and I've fully recovered. Somehow, I convinced Hershel to let me out of A earlier than the rest. On my trek to the great outdoors, I spotted Daryl tinkering with his crossbow, an idea hatching in my head.

Keeping light on my feet, I eyed the strong back that belonged to Daryl and felt a surge of giddiness. I slightly lowered myself, bending at the knees as I quietly crept up to my best friend, my lips pursed tightly to stifle the laugh begging to escape me. Daryl remained in his spot, his shoulders relaxed and his voice low as he muttered to himself. My holster clicked against my hips, making me silently bare my teeth and hiss as I hoped it wouldn't alert Daryl. He stood to his full height, giving me the in I wanted. Finally, I sprung into the air and wrapped my arms around his neck, slamming my full weight on him and bringing him down into a headlock, his butt hitting the ground. Daryl grunted and wheezed, his fingernails scratching away at my arms as I continued with my vise grip. I saw Michonne standing by the entrance, an amused smile on her lips as I wrapped my legs around Daryl's back, giving me more leverage in my chokehold. Ah, this takes me back.

"Dammit, June!" Daryl wheezed, "Get off!" With our commotion, Bob and Jacob dashed into the common area with wide eyes. I flashed them a smile and tightened my grip against Daryl's neck, earning another hilarious gasp from him.

"Hiya, guys!" I beamed, ignoring the struggles from the man underneath me, "Nice day, isn't it?" Jacob approached Michonne and smirked, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Should we help him?" Bob asked. I looked at the man and shook my head. Daryl struggled against me with a huff, his hands clawing away at my arms before squeezing my forearms tightly. Against his strength, I could feel my grip lessen as he pried me away from him. Untying my legs from around his torso, I let go of him and huffed, shrugging as he glared at me.

Suddenly, Daryl lunged at me and gripped me by the hips, his hands squeezing me harshly as he hoisted me up and slung me across his shoulders. A sharp gasp escaped my lips as he started to run, my eyes shutting against the bright sun as he tore out of the cellblock. Squirming, I caught Daryl with my knee—hard enough for him to lessen his grip but soft enough so it wouldn't hurt too bad. With his grip relaxing just a smidge, it was the perfect opportunity for me to wiggle off his shoulders. Obviously, I didn't think this through because I hit the dirt with a loud thud. My back groaned as the pain slowly spread, but it didn't stop me from rising to my feet. Daryl rubbed the side of his head with a slight smirk, his blue eyes twinkling at the challenge I posed for him. Footsteps could be heard behind us as a small group started gathering.

"Second match?" Daryl grunted at me, his smirk widening. I bit my lip and analyzed my chances of winning. I've been sick for the past week and a half, so I don't know if my strength has returned, and two, I don't want to get my ass beat. I looked around and spotted Michonne. Her arms crossed in front of her chest as she stood beside a giddy Jacob. I can't tell if he's this excited to see a fight or because he's so close to Michonne. I cocked my head at her, silently asking her for her input. Her chocolate brown eyes flashed to Daryl briefly before they returned to me, her head nodding once and a smile spreading across her lips. That's all the confirmation I needed.

"Go easy on me, Dixon," I teased, "I don't want to have to go back to A block cause you beat me into a pulp," I got into a fighting stance—my feet apart, a slight bend in my knees, and my fist in front of my face in a defensive position.

"Maybe you shouldn't have started something you can't finish," Daryl retorted, getting in the same stance I was in. We started to circle one another with identical shit-eating grins on our faces.