𝓬𝓾𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓭 | 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓵 𝓭𝓲𝔁𝓸𝓷

nine

A thud echoes as Daryl shoots an arrow straight through another walker's skull, it falling to the ground with a loud thud. He moves quickly but carefully through the maze-like halls, trying to get back to find the prisoner. As he quickly walks down the many halls, he discovers that he never learned her name, despite learning the other prisoners' names. He swore he heard her say it before. Macy? Marco? Mary?

He stops thinking about it when he sees a walker crawling on the ground, aiming his crossbow at it before his movements are halted by the sight of it. This walker wasn't crawling towards him. It was in fact just curled up into a ball, as if trying to hide. And their hair isn't falling off like the average walker. It's full of life, cascading all over the walker's body despite being tangled with knots.

"The fuck happened to you?" Daryl grumbles, gaining the prisoner's attention. She lifts her head up slightly, seeing Daryl standing above her. He diverts his attention from hers for a split second, aiming his bow at the walker in front of him before shooting. He turns his attention back to the prisoner, seeing how dehydrated she is despite the sweat soaking her clothes.

"Aaaww you came back for me," she grins softly, mindlessly grabbing for her ax. Using it as a crutch, she tries her hardest to get up, Daryl watching her for some time before helping her to her feet, holding her up by her arms. "Good to see you Browni-" she coughs violently, nearly losing her footing. Looking down, Daryl sees she's coughed up blood, a mixture of blood and spit dripping from her mouth. "Sorry," she says, wiping the blood and spit from her face, "I'm really thirsty."

"I can tell," he hums. "Let me carry you." The expression she gives him makes him want to roll his eyes.

"Ooo you are a gentleman," she grins, showing her now blood-stained teeth. Daryl ignores it and her antics, carrying her bridal style and walking down the hallway. She continues talking for some time, most of it incomprehensible before she finally speaks a full sentence. "You know something, Brownie?"

"What?" he mumbles quietly.

"You remind me of my last boyfriend a little bit. You seem like the type who's sweet on the inside. Like a cuddly big bear," she coos, letting out a laugh before coughing violently. "I kinda miss him," she reminisces, looking into nothingness as she wipes the blood from her chin once more.

Curiosity peaks in Daryl's mind, making him ask, "What happened to 'im?" Your boyfriend I mean," he says the last part quickly, gradually becoming embarrassed for even asking something like that.

"I got him arrested," she whispers. Her hands feel across Daryl's chest mindlessly. It makes it hard for him to breathe, his chest tightening on its own. "I got him arrested," she repeats a little louder. "And then your hubby-wubby cut his head into two."

Her words make Daryl's mouth go dry, almost appalled at the thought of those two being together. Or at least the thought of anyone dating an asshole like him. He knows he has no room to speak, as he's an asshole himself, but seriously?!

"Seriously?" he says, looking over at the prisoner. She doesn't turn her head to him, continuing to feel up on his chest. "What'd he get arrested for?" His words gain her attention. He sees how her eyes are glossed over from dehydration and exhaustion, but he sees her eyes twinkle at his curiosity nevertheless. She shows her blood-stained teethed she smiles softly, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Something." An almost drunk giggle leaves her, her head rolling backward before she lays it back on his shoulder. Daryl has an indescribable itch but decides to drop the conversation, seeing the woman beginning to fall asleep in his arms.

Moving down the hallway quickly he finally makes it back to his block. "Carl! Open up!" he orders, his grip tightening on her thighs. He sees Carl's eyes looking her up and down, his eyes filled with doubt. "Look we'll talk with your dad later, but she saved Carol," he states matter-of-factly. After a few moments, Carl pulls out a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, the same pair used on Hershel, before stating, "Make sure they're tight."

Grabbing them from the boy, Daryl moves the prisoner to a cell, laying her on the bunk as gently as possible. A couple of steps are heard from outside the cell before someone speaks. "How is she? Is Macon okay?" Carol questions. She kneels beside Macon's body, Daryl moving quickly but carefully as he cuffs her to the bed.

"Macon," he mumbles quietly. A weird name. "She's fine," he says, giving Carol a quick glance before continuing, "she's just dehydrated and exhausted is all." Standing up on his feet, he gives his back a quick stretch before looking over at the older woman, seeing as she hasn't moved from her spot near the bed. "C'mon. You got to get some rest yourself." He goes to help her off the ground only for some ruckus to be heard in the dayroom.