Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
Prologue
A faint roaring noise was getting loader and loader as Daryl's Harley Davidson approached the farm. Glenn who was sitting on the porch peered hopefully at the horizon. In the distance Daryl's silhouette was getting clearer. Daryl had set out to find a new home for the group a day before. Glenn ran inside the old farmhouse, where the group had lived for the past two months. He knew that the fact that Daryl had returned usually meant that the hunter's search had been successful. Rick, the group leader, had asked Glenn to be on the lookout for Daryl in case he returned and if he did return to alert him immediately.
However the familiar roar from Daryl's motorcycle had also alerted the rest of the group. Carol, T-dog, Andrea and Maggie who had been talking near the campfire jumped up and began walking towards the road to meet the young hunter. Meanwhile the other group members had gathered on the porch as well. Carl ran out of the house towards Daryl who was parking his motorcycle underneath the old apple tree, but stopped in his tracks when he got a good look at the older man. "you're hurt." stated the young boy. Still sitting on his Harley Daryl nodded without protest which worried the eight-year-old even more.
No matter how hurt Daryl got he always protested and refused any medical help, claiming that he was fine that it was just a scratch. This time however he didn't protested at all. Daryl didn't even bother to get of his motor. Alarmed by Daryl's current behaviour Carl ran back to the farmhouse as fast as he could, trying to hold back his tears. The brown haired boy thought of Daryl as a friend and always thought that the hunter was fearless and invincible.
Therefore witnessing Daryl in such a vulnerable state scared the boy.
Reaching the farmhouse Carl yelled as hard as he could while he kept running towards it "Dad! Dad, Daryl is hurt!" Hershell the sixty-seven-old farm owner answered, knowing as a veterinary he was the only group member with any medical knowledge. "Carl, take me to him. Maggie, grab my bag. Grab everything and call Patricia." Without answering Maggie Hershell's eldest daughter ran back inside.
Carl ran back towards Daryl with the rest of group following close behind. The boy stopped a few feet away from motorcyclist and watched as Hershell, accompanied by Carl's father Rick, approached him. Rick gave Daryl a quick look-over. The young man was sitting on his motorcycle with the engine still running panting heavily. There was some blood at the back of his head and he was slightly bent down leaning on the tank with his left hand. His left arm and hand were covered blood. His right hand was placed tidily on his abdomen. Turning of the engine Rick stood next to the injured man ready to follow any orders Hershell might give him. "Rick you need to hold him steady while I examine him so he won't fall off." Nodding Rick stepped closer to Daryl carefully placing his right hand on the hunter's back while placing his left hand on Daryl's chest avoiding any contact with the injuries. Hershell quickly assessed Daryl's injuries while the rest of the group anxiously watched the scene in front of them.
Carl bit his lower lip, something he did when he was scared or nervous. "Mom..?" he stopped mid-sentence to wipe away a tear threatening to fall. "He'll be alright baby. Just like you did. You'll see." His mother assured him hugging him from behind. Carl thought back at the time when he was shot during a hunting accident. He didn't remember much of that moment but his parents told him afterwards that he nearly died. However Hershell was able to save him when Shane came back with the needed equipment. Odis who had accidently shot Carl had accompanied Shane in retrieving the so much needed surgery equipment. However on their way back, Odis was killed by walkers. An event that had chanced Shane greatly. Straitening his shoulders Carl assured himself that Daryl was going to be fine. He had to be. Hershell's voice snapped Carl back to reality "Alright, lets get him inside." With T-dog's help Rick carried motorcyclist to the farmhouse where Maggie and Patricia were waiting on the porch.
Daryl was set up in one of the many bedroom that the 1600's farmhouse held. He was in and out of consciousness and laid still on his back. Rick watched the younger man as Hershell ushered everyone beside Rick, Maggie and Patricia out of the room. Sitting on the side of the bed Hershell continued his assessment of Daryl's injuries by flashing a small light in Daryl's eyes who was blinking feverishly. Knowing that Daryl was going to be sick Rick held a bucket in front of the man. After cleaning up Rick settled himself in the chair across the bed. Even though he never forgave himself for what he did to Daryl's brother, the hunter seemed to tolerate him enough to be around him. The group leader was surprised by the worry he currently felt for the injured man and realised that somewhere along the way he had began to see the redneck as a friend. This realising made Rick remember the day he had met the young hunter. Rick had just been reunited with his family when Daryl had stalked out of the woods crossbow in hand and five dead scrawls hanging from his belt. Rick remembered thinking that Daryl looked just like a younger version of Merle and disliked him immediately. But Daryl had been proven to be the opposite of his older brother. Even though he was a hothead like Merle Daryl was more open-minded and rational then his brother. And even though Daryl was label as the "Bad guy" by the group he was loyal, protective and caring towards people who he had gotten close to like Carol and Carl. Daryl was also devoted and protective of the group as a whole and did everything that was needed to keep the group healthy and safe.
"Rick? Rick!" Rick snapped out of his thoughts and saw Hershell standing in front of him trying to get his attention. Apologizing Rick shifted in his seat "How is he?" he asked. He couldn't help the worry that had crept through his voice. "Although his injuries are serious he will recover just fine. But he needs his rest now so why don't you follow me into the dining room and we'll talk more there? Hershell suggested kindly. With one more look over his shoulder Rick followed Hershell into the dining room.
When Hershell and Rick walked into the dining room they noticed that everyone had already gathered there waiting anxiously for any news about Daryl's condition. Rick saw that his son Carl had crawled onto his mother's lap seeking some comfort. The zombie apocalypse had forced Carl to grow up very fast. A fact Rick regretted immensely. He wished that he could have given Carl the same kind of childhood he had had. Carl had always been a playful, energetic and carefree boy. A eight- year-boy who was always running around with smile on his face and had two questions on his mind. Which were about what they're were eating for diner and with who he was going play with. Now Carl seems to be at least four years older than he actually was. The questions that were now on his minds were how can I keep everyone safe and what can I do to help. He also seems to have out grown his thumb sucking, sitting on his mothers lap and holding her hand. Only when he was scared Carl allowed himself to seek out these signs of comfort. Signing Rick sat down at the table besides his wife. Hershell's fourth wife Patricia put some glasses and a can with lemonade in the middle of the table.
"How is he?" Glenn quietly asked. Hershell looked up from his lemonade and signed. "Well, although Daryl is seriously injured I expect him to make a full recovery. He has eight stitches in the back of his head and a very bad concussion. Which will make him dizzy and nausea. He has at least four broken ribs and a very deep cut in his abdomen that needed sixteen stitches. His left arm was cut just below the shoulder and needed nine stitches. I gave him something to keep him calm and he will be waking up in a few hours. Now, most of the time I know what has happened by just looking at the wounds. This time however I can't so we'll have to ask him that himself. For now, it is very important to make sure he eats, drinks en sleeps."
"Can we see him?" Andrea asked. "Yes, but keep it sort and don't wake him up. He really needs his rest." Nodding Andrea stood up follow by her younger sister Amy and friends Carol and Dale.
Nervously Andrea slowing opened the bedroom door not really sure what to expect. The moment Daryl comes into her view she puts her hand in front of her mouth in shock. Daryl was lying still on his back in the middle of a king-sized bed. His head and torso were bandaged and his left arm was in a sling lying onto the bedspread. Shocked Andrea looked over her shoulder towards the three other group members. All three of them looked back at her with their eyes widened in shock. Carol had sat down into the same chair Rick had sat in, with Amy sitting on the armrest. Dale leaned quietly on the drawer while Andrea seated herself on the side of Daryl bed.
"He looks so still." Carol' s quiet voice sounded worried. Andrea couln't blame her for being worried. She wasn't sure what worried her more, the amount of bandages on Daryl's body or the fact that he laid so still. The Daryl they all knew was always moving and keep himself busy at all times. There was a silence since they were all afraid waking up the hunter if they said anything. Then Amy broke the silence "Damn you guys. What the hell has happened to him?