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you were dying. you could feel your life slipping away.
you'd been shot. in the stomach.
daryl sat next to you, worry on his face. it was his fault that you were dying right in front of everybody. the two of you made eye contact and you could see the tears that daryl wasn't letting slip by.
"you hold on." he whispered, not too loud, but loud enough for you to hear. he grabbed your hand to make sure that you knew that he was there.
