Zedler, M.D. // Daryl Dixon

Chapter Fourteen: Stitches

•fourteen•

Beatrix

"Keep your right arm locked in place, and use your left to move around," Shane instructs me as he moves my hands to the correct position. It feels weird using my right hand to do things, but Shane knows what he's talking about so I'll trust him. Just like he trusts me with the blood.

"Which hand do I use to pull the trigger?" I ask, aiming at the bottles lined up on the fence.

"Right hand," Shane says as he steps back from me. "Now focus, aim, and fire."

"Alright," I nod my head and take a deep breath.

I close one of my eyes and aim for my target. My hand is shaky, so I can't get it quite right, but I pull the trigger anyway. I'm so far away from the target, and I still don't hit it after completely emptying the chamber of rounds.

"I'm hopeless," I sigh and shake my head.

"You're gonna need a few days of work," Shane laughed and took the gun from me. "Rick's getting ready to head back to the farm with Beth and Patricia, and the rest of us are gonna stay a little longer. You should go with them and come back tomorrow."

"If you think that's best, that's what I'll do," I smile and walk off to find Rick.

"Work on your stance!" Shane calls after me as I walk away.

"Shane said I should go back to the farm with you," I tell Rick once I've reached him.

"That's fine," he nods and rubs the stubble on his face. "We're just about to leave."

-

"I just wanted to let you know before I went to get Hershel. I'm going to bring him back here to talk to you," I tell Daryl once I've reached out tent.

"Wish you wouldn't," he grunts and rolls over on his good side to face me. "You should just stay here and read."

"I'd love to stay and read, but you need to talk to Hershel," I tell him. "You need to be nice to him too. I know that's hard for you to do and all, but at least try. He could kick us off of his land at any time."

"I'll be nice," he mumbles as I get up and head out of the tent towards the house.

"Hello, Hershel," I smile as I walk up to the porch.

"Beatrix," he nods his head towards me in acknowledgement.

"You said I should come get you when it was good time to talk to Darl," I push a piece of hair behind my ear nervously. "It's a good time. He's stable, but he still can't get up. You'll have to go to our tent, but it's kind of far out."

"That's not a problem," Hershel stands up and motions for me to lead the way.

We take our time walking over to the tent. I don't know why, but I'm actually nervous for Daryl. I don't want Hershel to be mad at him or kick him off of the land. I like Daryl, and I know he's a good man, even if everyone else doesn't.

"You can go in and sit down if you want," I tell Hershel once we reach the tent. I push the tent door open and we both take a seat beside of Daryl.

"Beatrix, I'd like to speak with Daryl alone," Hershel looks to me and I nod, getting up and leaving the tent.

I pace back and forth all around the tent while they're in there. There's no shouting so far, so that's a good thing. My eyes land to the sticks beside of the fire pit and I decide to attempt to make Daryl some more arrows. Not that I have the slightest clue how to make them, but I've seen Daryl do it and it doesn't look that hard.