Triggerfinger ➳ Daryl Dixon

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Daryl glanced warily at Presley and then looked to Zeva. Michonne was crouched beside the dog with her eyebrows furrowed. When Daryl looked back to Presley, her emotionless expression shattered his heart into a billion pieces. "Oh Presley..." He said quietly, but she just kept standing there. She just kept swaying on her feet. She just... stopped.

"She's alive..." Michonne said, pressing her hand to the chest of the dog. "But I don't know for how much longer."

Much to Daryl's relief, Presley shook her head, seeming to realize the importance of these moments that could be the last of her best friend. The girl shuffled forward, dropping to her knees beside her best friend. Michonne stood and backed away, nodding to Daryl. Pain tugged at his heart as he watched Presley draw her dog's small head into her lap. Even from here, he could see salty tears shining on her cheeks.

He kept close to protect her, but he was far enough away that she could be considered alone. He watched as her shoulders began to dramatically tremble, and she bent over her dog.

"Please don't go." He heard her whisper. "Please..." He turned away, looking to Michonne.

"It's a flesh wound." She said quietly. "She could make it, but I don't want her to get her hopes up. I'll take her back, if you want to try and get the dog taken care of." Michonne's face was grim. "Just bring her back to the group- dead or alive."

Daryl glanced warily at Presley, who was still clinging desperately to her dog. Zeva stared up at her owner, and even from this distance, he could see the absolute love in the dog's eyes. Her tail weakly thumped against the ground occasionally. Zeva, you better pull through...

"Pres?" He approached her slowly. She was a ticking time bomb. He knew that angry Presley was one thing, but a pained one was another. This girl held in all that pain, and when it finally came out, it would come out like a tornado. She simply shook her head, not looking up at him. "I'm going to take care of 'er, 'kay? You need to help Michonne take Mika back to camp." Another sharp pain crushed his chest when all she did was shake her head in reply.

He finally crouched beside her. Michonne had been right- it was a flesh wound. Although it wasn't that deep, the cut was long and thin, and she'd lost a lot of blood. If they were lucky, it hadn't punctured the muscle. Hell, if they were really lucky, this dog would pull through. He reached up and brushed the hair from Presley's face. "Pres?" She finally, shakily, looked up at him. "I uh.... I love you."

Amazed, he watched as her eyes softened. She didn't smile, but for a split second, she didn't look like her entire world had just come crashing down. She looked back down at the dog. "When she dies, you will be all I have left."

"She's going to make it, Presley." He took her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. The hollowness in her eyes frightened him. "I won't let 'er die." He swore.

Presley shook her head and pressed herself against Zeva one last time, rubbing the dog regretfully between the ears. Zeva desperately lifted her head as Presley walked away, whining and clawing at the ground. The dog tossed her head, desperately thrashing to get up to get paw. She looked nearly as upset as Presley. Gently, Daryl pushed her back down, but the dog kept struggling. She whined more loudly now, but Presley wouldn't turn around.

"Zeva." He cooed softly, looking down at the dog. "Shhh..."

Michonne gathered Mika's frame in her arms, giving Daryl a small nod. They both knew that if this dog didn't make it, there was a chance they wouldn't see the light in Presley's eyes for quite some time.

- - -

The group was silent when Presley and Michonne returned.

Rick was the first to rush to them, but all Michonne did was shake her head as she lowered Mika's body onto the ground. "He was waiting for us." Michonne said softly. "She'll probably turn soon."

Presley shuffled along, her arms tightly wrapped around herself. It didn't take long for the group to murmur about Presley's missing companion. Exhausted and mentally ill, Presley collapsed against a tree and held herself close, staring blankly into the fire.

"What happened?" Rick asked Michonne with a wary tone.

Michonne grimly described how when they had got there, Mika had been executed right in front of them. She mentioned how Presley had even sacrificed herself, but it'd been no use. Michonne brushed past the hair on Mika's forehead to reveal the 'w' carved with a knife. Rick cringed and looked away.

"And Zeva?"

"We don't know yet." She said quietly. "She has a flesh wound and she's lost a lot of blood. She'll come back with Daryl by morning- dead or alive." Rick winced a bit, running his hand over his hair.

"Should we try to get her to eat?" Rick motioned to Presley. Michonne glanced at her, a small frown creasing her plump lips.

"You could, but I don't think anybody can get through to her. The one person that could help her isn't here right now."

So, this chapter was a bit happier than the last... Right?

So zeva survives... for now. muwahahaha

no, it wasn't because you guys begged. Though it was distressing seeing you guys like that, a good story will draw out all sorts of emotion. Sadness, longing, laughter, happiness.. Leave it to me to pull on your heart strings just a bit c:

Comment, vote, follow me please c: