Double Crossbow (Daryl Dixon) [The Walking Dead]

Chapter 15 ↣ What the hell does that mean?

"The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead or smiling into your eyes or just staring into space."

— Marilyn Monroe

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Daryl

RICK DIDN'T HESITATE to rush out of the room to go and get the doctor that lived here. I brushed my fingers against Kathryn's hand once more and muttered, "You'd be so pissed if you knew I was giving you a handout." Despite myself, a small smile creeped its way onto my features.

It quickly vanished as Rick and two other people rushed into the room. A woman placed both of her hands on my shoulders and shoved me into a chair next to Kathryn's bedside. I held out my arm as she held up a needle. I looked over at Kathryn as she pressed the needle into my upper arm. Needles weren't my favorite thing; too many memories were attached to them. It didn't matter, though.

My gaze traveled up to an older man with white hair. His eyes caught my own for a split second before they flickered back down to a cart with a whole bunch of sharp objects. A split second of fear crossed my heart. I didn't know these people. What if they were a bunch of crazies? What if they have no idea what they were doing? This woman had sharp objects near me for Christ's sake! 

"Hey, doc? You are a doctor, right?" I questioned. 

"I am a kind of doctor," he replied, not looking at me.

I took a second to process that before snapping, "What the hell does that mean?" The woman gave me a dirty look, which I promptly returned. 

"Hershel's a veterinarian," Rick said, standing by the doorway. 

I didn't comment. That was better than what I had been expecting. Animals and humans weren't that different. 

The woman removed the needle from my arm and walked over to Hershel with the vials of my blood. Hershel looked over at me. "You two might want to step out."

Rick hesitated before exiting. I, on the other hand, stayed right where I was. I wouldn't—I couldn't—let her do this one alone. He sighed before pulling back the bedcovers and pulling up Kathryn's shirt to reveal a bandage that was starting to turn the crimson color of blood. 

"We have to hurry," Hershel said, "and pray; pray that she stays unconscious."

I felt sick to my stomach and blamed it on the amount of blood I had just given. A shudder ran down my spine as he removed her bandage, but I also had a boost of courage and lightly held Kathryn's hand. He grabbed something off of his cart, then started to remove the bullet. 

Rage coursed through me. Who had put her here? Why did she deserve to be here? Why did I care so much? I was snapped from my thoughts, as I felt pressure on my hand. No, no, no, Kathryn you stay out. It was too late. I heard a grunt of pain and a small yelp. Kathryn now had a death grip on my hand. I slid over to her bedside, now kneeling next to her bedside. My head spun like a top, but I ignored it completely. 

"Doc, you—" she yelped in pain "—you should have bought me a drink first."

Kathryn then looked over at me. I could see past her façade. She was in excruciating pain. Her green eyes were swimming with unshed tears, and I saw the fear. I held her hand tightly within my own. At least, I thought I was. In all honestly, I didn't think it was getting much blood flow. 

I fumbled for any words of comfort. "You're gonna be okay," I said quietly. A tiny bit of amusement flickered in her eyes before she squeezed them shut and groaned in pain. Heat clawed at my neck. Would it kill them to open a window?