Chapter Twenty-Five: Baby Problems

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•twenty-five•

Beatrix

"Wait 'til she wakes up then, dammit!" I hear someone yell, but I can't dechiper who.

I push myself up off of the ground and prop myself up on my elbows; I'm in a tent somewhere. With a groan, I push myself to sit all the way up and rub my forehead. My hand runs over a bump, and the memories of what happened before I blacked out come rushing over me.

"Daryl, she could be out for a while. She may never wake-" A man whom I've placed as Rick yells from right outside the tent before he's cut off by the other man, Daryl.

"She'll wake up fine. Said she would, and you can ask about the baby when she does," Daryl gives Rick his best stern voice and I can see the shadow of his defensive stance in front of the tent.

"Daryl, it's been six days. You and I both know-" I hear Rick try to reason with Daryl before I cut him off.

"Hey!" I call out in a raspy voice, so quiet that I'm surprised they even heard it.

As soon as the word leaves my mouth, Daryl and Rick's silhouettes turn to look at eachother before they both race to fumble with the zipper of the tent. Daryl huffs, pushing Rick back and finally gets the tent open. He drops down beside of me and immediately grabs my face to examine it.

"Did Beth have fun getting the glass out of my head?" I smile as Rick walks in, but Daryl just shakes his head at me.

"Trixy, this ain't funny. We thought ya weren't gonna wake up," he pulls my head to his chest and I can actually hear how fast his heart is beating. It's cute that he's so concerned about me.

"I told you I'd be awake in a couple of days," I shrug. "I need some water."

"I'll get you some," Rick mumbles, walking out of the tent.

"It's been six, Beatrix. Ya scared the shit outta me," Daryl says as he pulls away from me.

"I'm fine though, aren't I?" I smirk, but quickly drop it after I see the look on Daryl's face. He's not in a joking mood right now.

At that moment, Rick returns with a bottle of water, and I take it with a thank you. I'm able to gulp the entire bottle down in two drinks. Did they not keep me hydrated while I was out? I could be dehydrated right now and they wouldn't even know; I really should teach the entire group basic medical skills, but I know it's really no use. None of them will pay attention besides Beth and Carl, and maybe Daryl, but that would only be because he likes listening to me talk.

"I know this isn't the best time to ask, but Lori is having problems," Rick blurts out as soon as I drop the water bottle.

"What kind of problems?" I ask, starting to try to stand up. "And did you get my trailer? Daryl, please tell me you have the trailer."

"Sit your ass down. Ya need to rest. You're not goin' anywhere until we make sure you're alright," Daryl demands, pushing me back down. "And yes, I got the trailer."

"Lori's been a lot sicker than normal," Rick explains, starting to worry me. "She's been throwing up all day long, which isn't good considering we don't have much food, and she's been having the worst hot flashes."

"That sounds normal," I raise my eyebrow, confused, when he explains.

"She wasn't sick at all with Carl," he replies, running his hand over his growing stubble. "Something's wrong, I know it."

"I'll look at her as soon as Daryl lets me out of this tent," I jokingly roll my eyes at Daryl and he grunts at me. "Or until I can sneak past him."

Zedler, M.D. // Daryl DixonWhere stories live. Discover now