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Daryl wiped the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand, glancing briefly at the area around him. The sun was bearing down on his back, angry heat making him uncomfortable and sticky with sweat as he shifted on the horse he had borrowed from Hershel's farm. The slight cover of the trees did nothing for the strong beams of sunlight shining onto the forest floor, but at least there was plenty of light for him to use in his search for Sophia.
It had been three days since Sophia had gone missing. The girl had chosen the wrong moment to check if the walkers had left the highway; two stragglers had caught her movement and proceeded to follow her as she ran for her life off the highway. Rick had chased after her for all he was worth, but it was difficult to tell a kid to remain where they were. She was gone when the men had returned to the river, and the search had begun.
Daryl had taken it upon himself to continue searching for the little girl. He understood what it was like to be lost in the forest, alone and frightened. At least when it had happened to him, he was able to handle himself; what had Sophia been going through on her own now that there were walkers to add into the mix?
He'd been beaten throughout his whole childhood, by his father and brother. He had seen the abuse Ed had dealt Carol on several occasions, and had seen the bruises on Sophia's arms from where her own father had grabbed her in a fit of rage. Daryl had been in the situation so many times, but seeing it happen to someone so innocent had only angered him when he thought more about it.
He wasn't really too sure why he was so determined to find Sophia. Maybe it was because he was reminded of his own abusive childhood and didn't want the same for the young girl. Perhaps it was because he hoped that finding her safe and sound would help him through some of his own cruel past.
Either way, he was determined to find her. Alive.
The horse began to trot faster as it made its way through the forest. Daryl tried to slow the creature down, but to no avail. Eventually, the horse became startled by a snake and bucked, ignoring Daryl's hold on the reins it wasn't long before Daryl was thrown off of its back.
Branches and rocks beat against Daryl's body as he fell down the solid ravine wall and onto the riverbed below. His entirely body ached, his head throbbed in agony and a sharp stinging in his side was causing any movement he made to hurt intensely. He forced himself to look to the source of the pain, and found one of his own crossbow bolt pierced through his side.
He groaned as he saw the damage, his own blood beginning to surround him in the water. Stupid fuckin' horse, he cursed internally, but it was nowhere to be seen.
Daryl grabbed onto the bolt and tried to remove it, only to be welcomed by an even more severe pain. He became aware of a small, soft bump digging into his back, and realised he was still holding onto Sophia's doll. She had to be close; it wouldn't have taken them this long to find a doll, surely?
The doll seemed to give him the reassurance he needed. He rolled to his front and dragged himself towards the riverbank, hoping the smell of his blood wouldn't bring anymore walkers closer. Slow and unsteady, he managed to make it out of the water and onto the pebbled shore, grunting as he used his arms to drag him to a wall to lean on.
He turned and lay onto his back, staring blankly at the trees surrounding him. Only I can get myself into these positions, he thought to himself. His head hit the rock behind him with a dull thud, and his vision began to swim.
No, don't fuckin' pass out, Dixon! He scalded himself as he felt a wave of fatigue wash over him like the water before. That girl is still out there! What if she's in trouble right now and you're too busy lazin' about like a fuckin' moron?
He tried to sit up, but his body was just not having it. The arrow was causing more pain, and he was forcing himself not to think about it. It had to come out if he wanted to keep going.
Daryl turned his head in exhaustion, looking towards the trees. Despite the scorching sun, it seemed much darker in that area. He forced himself to sit up, momentarily ignoring his aching side when ripping his shirt off, wincing as the arrow moved roughly in his body. He tied his shirt around the offensive injury, hoping to suppress some of the pain with the pressure of the knot. He shakily rose to his feet, using the stone wall as support and the crossbow as a balance. As he straightened his knees, he released a breath he didn't realise he had been holding in, and leaned against the wall.
That's it, Dixon. Now you just need the arrow out. That wasn't a priority right now; he needed to get his breath back and continue searching for Sophia. He subconsciously gave the doll on his belt a squeeze before pushing himself off the wall.
Already his sight was becoming less fuzzy, and he was able to focus more on the area around him: the puddle of blood that was once his, the tall trees surrounding the entire area, the small sport trainers lying just at the edge of the trees...
Wait a minute. Daryl's eyes widened in shock and surprise. Those shoes were attached to a body lying on the floor of the forest. The body was small and unmoving, lying face down in the dirt.
"Sophia?" Daryl called out to the body. Without hesitation, he trudged towards the figure, grasping his crossbow tightly and ignoring his pain completely now. If this really was Sophia, she was definitely in more need of help than he was.
As he reached the body, his suspicions were true. Sophia was lying there, her clothes completely covered in muck and leaves. Her body was marked with cuts and bruises, some fresher than others, and Daryl's heart began to race. What if she had been bitten?
"Sophia?" He tried once again. She didn't move or make a sound. He searched her body for any bite marks or deep scratches. The ones he could see appeared to be from trees or scrapes from rocks.
He gently turned her over, checking her for a pulse and if she was breathing. Both were incredibly weak, her pulse faint and her breathing shallow; she could have cracked a rib or something could be broken. Daryl caught sight of an empty plastic bottle, realising that it had been filled with water at one point.
The rasping sounds of the undead suddenly appeared from towards the river. Shit! Blood must've drawn 'em over! Daryl frantically reached for his crossbow, realising he only had one bolt left, and it was in his side.
Fuck! He glanced down at the frail Sophia, barely alive beside him. Pull it out you fuckin' asshole!
Gritting his teeth, he gripped the bolt firmly and began pulling it out, crying out in pain as the arrow slid slowly through his body. It was out after what felt like a much too long time, and the walkers were moving closer and closer to them.
He grabbed a nearby rock and threw it at the closest one's head, smacking it in the jaw. It only managed to slow it for a few seconds before it was stumbling towards them again.
He loaded his crossbow with his only bolt and fired at it, nailing it in between the eyes. As it went down, the other one seemed to be moving closer than was comfortable, and Daryl knew he wouldn't have enough time to get the arrow before it would be on him.
He glanced quickly around him, grabbing a sturdy branch and gripping it tightly. Adrenaline pumping through his system, he ran towards it at full speed, knocking it in the side of the head to deck it. He hit it in the head repeatedly, smashing its skull to pieces until its cries completely stopped. It took a full minute until Daryl was able to move again, remembering that Sophia needed to be rescued.
She still hadn't moved since he had turned her over, but the slight rise and fall of her chest reassured Daryl she was still alive. He retrieved his bolt from the dead walker's brain and harnessed the crossbow, before readjusting the shirt around his waist to be more secure and tighter.
He knelt down beside Sophia and moved his arms underneath her, preparing himself to lift her. He knew she wouldn't be heavy, but it was his own endurance he was worried about.
He groaned as he lifted her, carrying her bridal style towards the ravine. There was a way towards the farm that had been marked on the map following the river, but it was going to be a long trek. Daryl's body craved rest, but he knew it wasn't possible now that he had found Sophia alive.
"Don't worry Sophia, we'll be there soon. Yer mama's gonna be pleased to see ya. And Shane can go fuck himself."
He smirked at that. Shane had doubted the whole search, but now he'd show him. He had proved him and all the non-believers wrong.
Daryl was beyond exhausted. His body was on the verge of collapse. The only thing keeping him going was getting Sophia back to camp before nightfall. It was almost dusk now, but he could see the farm in the distance.
Man, are they gonna get a shock when they see us, he thought as he climbed up the last hill to the farmhouse. They would see him in the distance if they were still keeping watch, and hopefully Rick would be near the perimeter for him returning anyway.
Sophia let out a raspy breath as he marched through the field. He looked down at her bony and marked body; she must have not had water in far too long. Her arm fell limply at her side, hanging down as Daryl adjusted her in his arms.
"Don't you fuckin' dare, Sophia!" he warned, not caring if she couldn't hear him. "We've came too far for ya to just give up on me now!" As if she had heard, her raspy breathing stopped, and Daryl pushed himself on far beyond his limits.
"Oh, my God!" A stunned voice cried in the distance, and Daryl vaguely recognised it as Shane's. Yeah, asshole! I fuckin' found her!
"DARYL!" Rick called out to him. Daryl could feel his vision swimming now he knew people had seen them. Rick was a few short seconds away; it wouldn't take much for him to carry Sophia back to the house.
Just stand still, Dixon. Last thing they need is you falling with the poor girl in your arms. He did just that, ceasing all movement and using his remaining energy to keep himself upright. He grasped tightly onto Sophia and watched the familiar bodies running towards them.
"Daryl, man! Are you alright? What the hell happened?" Glenn's panicky voice sounded above everyone else's as Rick approached Daryl and took Sophia off of him.
"Found...the girl..." The weight of Sophia leaving him seemed to be all he needed to let go of his stamina. He collapsed in a messy heap, ignoring his still injured side and smacking his head off the ground. The last thing he remembered seeing was Glenn and T-Dog moving towards him with urgency and Shane's shocked face staring between him and Sophia.
Yeah, you sonuvabitch. I found her. Alive.
Daryl awoke some time later in a bed. He assumed he was in Hershel's since no one at camp had one to sleep in. His side was completely bandaged up and head felt tighter. On closer inspection, he realised he had a bandage there too.
Where's the girl?
Daryl sat upright then, before falling right back down when his side protested. There was movement outside the room just then, and he was greeted by the sight of Rick and Carl, both with smiles on their faces.
"How's she doin'?" asked Daryl.
"She'll be fine," Rick assured him. "You found her just in time. She was badly dehydrated. We can't thank you enough, Daryl."
Daryl smiled then too. He had made a promise to Carol to bring her daughter back alive, and he had kept it. He felt a strange weight had been lifted from him that was long overdue, and he felt like a completely different person for it.
"Thanks, Daryl!" Carl exclaimed before running up to the man and wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. His side hurt, but he didn't flinch once when the young boy cuddled him. Rick watched the older man's face redden before he wrapped an arm back around him.
Daryl felt his nose begin to itch and realised he was getting emotional. Fuck, man! When did you start gettin' feelings and shit, Dixon? He grinned at Rick and Carl when he moved off of him.
"Carol's beyond grateful to you." Rick told him. "She's with Sophia just now, but she'll be in to see you after you've rested up for the night."
"No problem," grunted Daryl as he slipped under the covers, "Just make sure no one wakes me, huh?"
Rick nodded and Carl waved to him as he left the room. Daryl lay on his uninjured side and that was when he saw it.
The Cherokee rose was sitting in a vase on its own on the bedside table. He stared up at it, remembering the story he had told Carol and his promise he had made to her.
I believe this one bloomed for your little girl. We'll find her, and she'll be just fine.
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