Deadland

Chapter 84- Build Up

(TW!! Mentions of abuse!!)

"This sucks." I groan loudly.

I haven't been able to do anything. For good reason, I could get hurt way worse if I try to do anything but some cars need to be worked on and I'm the only person who knows how to. Someone's air conditioning went out and nobody else knows how to fix it but me.

My concussion has been getting better, the antibiotics have been working and I can walk around the house now, which is weirdly exciting.

Alyssa chuckles from the kitchen, "What have we learned?"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, dad."

She laughs, "Well, I'll answer for you. We have learned," She walks over and hands me a bowl of sour cream and onion Pringles. "Not to risk our lives."

I roll my eyes and eat a Pringle, "Or just to not get pinned down. I like that one more."

Alyssa smiles and sits next to me, "How've you been with the meds?"

"What, addition wise? Fine, I'm passed tha-"

Daryl comes pounding down the steps causing me to wince, "What the fuck happened to you bein' quiet?"

"I'm leavin'. I'll be back later." He says, his voice hard.

Fuck.

"You are not going to find those people, Daryl." I order, sitting up.

He begins walking towards the door but I quickly stand up, ignoring the world as it twirls around me, and stand in front of him.

"You are not going!" I say louder, trying my hardest to stay focused and to ignore my migraine.

"Adrian, sit back down." Daryl tries to move around me but I move with him.

"No, you sit the fuck down! You almost got killed!"

Alyssa makes a squeal sound, basically saying, "you're one to talk".

"I don't want to do this with you, Adrian. Move." His voice is as cold as ice. He blames himself, him and I both have problems with that, but I can't allow him to go and risk his life for a dead girl!

"You are not risking your life for a dead girl, Daryl!" My words come out harsher than intended but he needs to understand that this is a bad idea.

His eyes go cold, "Don't. Now, move."

"No!" I stiffen, making sure that I'm standing my ground. Trying to ignore the explosion going on in my skull right now is hard, but not more difficult than trying to convince Daryl not to do something he's set and stone on doing.

"Adrian," Daryl warns.

"No! Back the fuck up, Daryl! I'm sorry that Dennis died, I really am. I'm sorry that you blame yourself because I know all too fuckin' well what that feels like. But I am not sorry for tryin' to keep you here when you could get shot out there! You could get shot with an arrow! You could get fuckin' kidnapped! You are stayin' here, takin' care of your injured wife, and stayin' alive!"

Daryl huffs and backs up, rubbing his hand on his mouth angrily.

I'm not used to seeing Daryl angry. Seeing him angry at me immediately makes me defensive. I clench my fists, ready to catch something if something gets thrown-not that Daryl has done that before. Or ready to fight back- not that Daryl would hit me.

"Move out of the damn way, Adrian!"

"Guys, stop yelling! It's not good for Adrian's head!" Alyssa yells, ironically.