A/N I do not own The Walking Dead in any way, shape or form.
This story it set at the beginning of season 3.
Daryl POV
All consuming, white hot tendrils of pain engulfed his entire body as he now struggled to take even a single breath.
Daryl knew that whatever had happened in the past minute or so was not good and he was inclined to believe this would be the end of his miserable life, lying in a crumpled heap on the dirt encrusted floor of the pharmacy they were currently raiding, he felt himself shudder and each muscle in turn involuntarily relax.
The world around him dimmed slightly and he could just about make out horrified shouts from somewhere nearby…
Rick POV
Panic on the highest scale clouded Ricks mind and froze his limbs as the terror crawled up his legs, like a coiled snake constricting its prey. Frantically scanning the large room, his eyes zoned in on a boot clad leg with ripped up trousers and as dread filled his heart he noticed a familiar crossbow hanging limply from a bloody hand and that's when he knew he had found who he was looking for.
Sprinting across the blown up store, he skidded to halt and found his way to his knees to get a better look at his fallen brother. Gently moving the hair out of his closed eyes, he checked for a pulse and to his relief it was present, faint and stuttering, but there none the less.
"Daryl, can you hear me!? Daryl!"
Patting the unconscious mans cheek, desperately trying to find some sign of life; Rick sent a quick prayer to anyone willing to listen, that Daryl would make it out of this alive and well.
A short, sharp intake of breath and a spluttering cough had him letting out a huge breath he didn't realise he was holding. Daryl's eyes fluttered open, slowly at first and then with more sense of urgency as the man came back to his senses.
"Daryl! Hey, hey, it's alright were going to get you out of here… back to the prison. Herschel can help you… fix you up in no time"
"J-Just leave me… not gonna make it"
Daryl whispered, sounding strangled and looking up at Rick with a sense of finality in his eyes, he thought he was going to die on the floor of this pharmacy.
Rick knew the situation was bad and couldn't hide the slight tremor in his voice, not that Daryl would have picked up on it in his current condition.
"You're gonna make it Daryl, you're not dying today!"
He mustered as much conviction as he could manage and couldn't believe how suddenly this day turned into a nightmare.
The explosion came out of nowhere, so unexpected and completely devastating. Not only had Daryl been caught in the blast after going in ahead of the others to check for loitering walkers but the remaining medical supplies they so desperately needed were destroyed, nothing left to take back with them and definitely not worth loosing Daryl's life over.
"RICK! Have you found him!? We need to go man… there's a heard coming this way, the sound must of got their attention!"
Glenn's panicked shouts spurred Rick into action and he carefully as to not aggravate his wounds further, lifted Daryl into a fireman's lift and made his way on unsteady feet out into the fresh, smoke free air.
The car was ready and waiting, driver behind the wheel bouncing with anticipation of what was to come and the back doors open, ready to transport its newest patient back to the only home they had.
Carefully placing Daryl across the back seats and sitting beside him with his bloodied head cradled in his lap, the vehicle took off back in the direction it had just come as the first few un-dead uselessly scratched and banged the windows in attempt to devour its inhabitants...
TBC