Home Is Your Heartbeat ('Home Is' Book Two - Daryl Dixon)

Chapter 62 - Let It Be (Beatles)

NATE

I kept my hands clamped firmly over Eugene's wound while he lay unconscious in the tray of the truck. Abraham and Daryl have their rifles up, scanning either side of the road as Rosita gunned it.

Within twenty minutes we were shooting through the gates of Alexandria.

We gently lay him on the infirmary bed. Then I raced around grabbing gauze, antiseptic and whatever else I thought we'll need.

When Rosie undid his shirt and pulled it back we poked around a bit at his wound. Then rolled our eyes at each other in sheer relief.

He's been winged. No embedded bullet and no organ damage.

And now....no Denise....

Bit my lips hard. Trying to stop the whimpers threatening to escape my mouth as we patch Eugene up. He came around a couple of times, before floating away again whenever I stuck another suture strip on.

Abraham gave Daryl a sympathetic nod when he returned to the infirmary ten minutes later.

"Rick's coming. How is he?"

Dixon stood like a statue by the window, gazing out over the lake. He hasn't uttered a single word since we left the rail tracks. Only glanced up now and then as Rosie and I went about our business.

But I know that look on his face....in his eyes.

"Bullet just grazed him, but it's good we got him back when we did. The antibiotics we picked up will save him from infection. Saved his life, that's what Denise did"  Rosie responded softly and Daryl jerked slightly at that.

"Hey, bud. Welcome back....you here?"

I ran my fingers over his head, softly kissed it when he let out a small cough and opened his eyes. This time they remained open and his hand squeezed mine in greeting.

"Present. I was not trying to kill you, I was simply looking for our moment. Do you apologise for questioning my survival skills?"  He peered up at Blue who's leaning over him now, face full of forgiving concern.

"You found it and I apologise. You sure know how to bite the dick, Eugene....and I mean that with the utmost respect."

Blue pulled up a chair right next to the bed and I left them to it. Grabbing a couple of sheets from the infirmary supply shelf, I walked over to Dixon. Tugged on his hand.

"C'mon"  I whispered, and he nodded back as I led him out to the truck.

Not another word was spoken, even when I jumped into the driver's seat.

Because he knew.

*

It had just come on sunset when everyone dispersed, leaving us alone with her.

Daryl got up off his haunches and shovelled the first dirt back into her grave. I was about to follow suit when a gentle pressure on my shoulder stopped me.

Carol reached up and cupped my face. Wiped away some dirt and tears before leaning in to kiss my cheek. She lay her head against mine for the longest time, wrapping her arms tightly around me.

Before sighing deeply and letting go.

We both gazed over at Daryl who'd stopped for a minute to down a miniature bottle of Danville Bridge whisky. As he drank he stared out over the graveyard. His face a rigid mask of grief and shame.

"You were right, Daryl....I knew it when you said it."

Carol's voice is flat. As were her eyes when she turned back to me. Taking the shovel from my hands and burying it deep in the dirt that we piled up.