Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

Hope Is Stronger Than Fear

The next 24 hours passed in a haze of fever, puking, coughing, and Hershel forcing his back woods tea concoction down my throat. I counted the passage of time by the old man's appearances in our cell. When he showed up for the second time in what felt like an hour I groaned, not from pain, but annoyance.

"Please, no more," I begged, turning towards the wall.

"None of that young lady," he chided, limping into the cell. "This tea is the only thing keeping your fever at bay."

"Him first." I waved a hand in Glenn's general direction. "If I drink it now I'll just puke it up. Gimme a sec."

Hershel conceded, pouring his shit tasting tea down Glenn's sore throat. He sputtered while he drank and as much as he assured his soon to be father-in-law it was the illness we both knew it was the tea masquerading as a toxic substance. Apparently everyone in the Greene family was incapable of boiling water. Until today I had no idea the inability to cook was genetic.

"Here, chew on this."

I stared at the piece of bark in his hand. "Is this punishment for calling your tea shitty?"

He pursed his lips at the language, but didn't comment. Being on your deathbed had its perks.

"It's willow bark, a natural fever reducer. Merle brought it back." If my choices were bark, crap tea, or a fever I'd take the fever. "I've got your tea right here if you'd like that instead."

"Gimme the bark," I grumbled. I hesitantly gnawed on the piece of tree, grimacing when the bitter taste coated my tongue. "I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but this is worse than the tea."

It was official, Merle hated me.

"They've been gone too long," Glenn wheezed, trying to sit up only to have Hershel push him back down. "Something went wrong."

"You don't know that." Hershel sounded tired. He should never have come in here. He was going to get sick and given his age it would kill him quickly. "The college is a long way away. It will take time for them to get there and back."

"I don't want to die," he cried, in pain from both the illness and the prospect of leaving the woman he loved. I understood those fears. I had them buried inside of me too.

"Here Alex, drink a little tea. It will wash away the taste." I wouldn't be able to get the grimy taste of bark off my tongue if I scrubbed it with steel wool, but I didn't have the energy to fight with the veterinarian so I rolled over. He propped me up against the wall, helping me drink the vile beverage. "See, now was that so bad?"

"Hershel, I love you like the father I never had, but that tastes like dirt mixed with cow shit." He tipped his head back, laughing like I imagined Santa Clause might. If Santa Claus had a mullet. "I appreciate the effort, but it wasn't that funny."

He slapped me on the leg, still chuckling.

"It's working."

I scoffed, taking offense. I was funny before he and Merle tried to poison me.

"Hershel!" Submarine screamed, his voice horse, "Cell five!"

Hershel helped me to my feet before assisting Glenn. He made a beeline for the fifth cell from the door while Glenn and I moved at a much more subdued pace, like a crawl. Sasha tried to sit up on her cot when we passed, but I waved her off.

"We got it, rest."

She slumped over immediately, eyes rolling into the back of her head.

Over the last day the three of us tried to help Hershel as best we could with the ever growing number of patients in the cellblock. Submarine could barely move at this point which left Glenn, Sasha and I as the only ones who were remotely ambulatory, and had any kind of medical training. Not that it was making much difference. It felt like every hour the door opened and a new "patient" was admitted.