It's my first TWD fic and I would like to know what you think. So please, don't be shy and leave me a comment!
Chapter 1
Glenn was driving for a few minutes, always looking in the mirror but there was still no sign of Daryl. To give Daryl a chance to catch up, he decided to pull over and wait. After about fifteen minutes, Glenn's anxiety peaked and he turned around and drove back to the spot where he had last seen Daryl. Suddenly, about one mile away, he saw a dark truck turning on a perpendicular road and disappearing behind the trees... Glenn increased his speed; there was someone else alive in the area and he wanted to try to get closer. The plan was working until he passed in front of a fallen tree he had avoided the first time and saw a motorcycle on the ground. Instantly he abandoned his pursuit of the other vehicle and pulled over. He walked closer and found Daryl's crossbow beside a car. He knelt down to take it and realized there was blood a few meters away.
"Daryl!" he yelled, looking around. "DARYL!" he added louder, feeling the fear rising inside of him. He didn't care about the walkers who could hear him; he just wanted to find his friend.
Glenn looked closer at the blood and discovered there was a piece of fabric folded next to it. He grabbed it and realised it was a bandage soaked with blood. He kept looking for a while, but when he didn't find anything else and figured that Daryl wasn't there anymore, he took the crossbow and rushed back to his car. He didn't know who was in the dark truck, but he was sure these people had something to do with the fact that Daryl was missing and maybe hurt. Glenn drove back to the prison as fast as possible; he had to warn Rick and the rest of the group.
Daryl was slowly waking up. He could feel a pressure in his head and a pain that radiated out from a wound on his left side. His throat was dry and he was cold. When he opened his eyes, the light was too bright so he had to close them again He tried to move his right arm so he could cover his face with his hand but he wasn't able to move.
"Mmmm," he moaned when the pain increased.
Even though he was feeling really weak, Daryl tried to move his arms again, but they were still trapped on something soft. At this moment, he realised he was lying in a bed and had a sheet on him. So despite the light, he opened his eyes and after about a minute, he was able to look around him. Like he had thought, he was lying in a single bed and was in a small room. There was no window and only one door which was half opened. He took a look beside the bed and saw an IV bag with a line that seemed to be connected to him. He moved his left arm and could feel a needle into the top of his hand. He didn't know where he was and why he was there so he began to struggle.
"Shhh…You better stop moving like that," a woman warned, running inside the room. "It's just going to get worse," she added, removing the sheet that was covering the man's torso. When she did, Daryl began to panic: he didn't know where he was and he didn't recognize the woman that was touching him. An especially large jolt of adrenaline rushed through him when he realised that his wrists were tied to the bed with straps that were normally used to immobilise people in hospitals.
"Don't fucking touch me," he hissed, struggling even more. He wanted to sound scary but it was more like a whisper.
"Please, Daryl, you need to calm down…" the woman tried to assure him with a gentle voice. "I won't hurt you…"
"How do you know my name? And why am I tied up?" he asked angrily. "And where the fuck are we?"
Suddenly, someone appeared in the door frame. Daryl turned his head and gaped; he couldn't believe who was in front of him.
"Hello Daryl," the Governor said, smiling. "Welcome to my new home," he added walking closer.
The hunter was so surprised that he was speechless; he was just looking at the other man with daggers.
"Why am I here?" Daryl finally asked after a few seconds. He began to get really cold now that he wasn't covered with the sheet anymore. He was also feeling that his entire body was sore.
"You had an accident with your bike…" Philip began, talking like they were both friends. "Martinez, Davis and Samantha here, found you laying on the ground in a pool of blood. They chose to bring you with them so I can decide what to do with you," he said, smiling again. "And because I'm a good man, I decided to make sure you have the best care. You've been out for two days…"
Slowly, Daryl remembered the store, his motorcycle, the tree and his accident. He also remembered a vehicle and people talking around him, and Glenn. Where was his friend? Did he come back for him? Did they kill him? Did he drive back to the prison?
"Where's Glenn?" Daryl demanded, worried about the Korean. He realised that his voice was getting weaker and that he just wanted to close his eyes and sleep.
"I have no idea," the Governor said, looking at the woman named Samantha.
"He was alone when we found him," she explained, taking a stethoscope from a desk. "But there was an Asian with him when we first spotted him at the town."
"So it was them that he saw when they got out of the convenience store," Daryl thought, taking a better look at the woman. She was in hers mid-twenties, had long blond hair tied up in a braid and big blue eyes. She didn't seem like the type of person who would work for a man like the Governor.
"How is he?" Philip asked like if Daryl wasn't there anymore.
"I think he's going to be okay for now," Samantha said, rubbing the metal base of the stethoscope with the palm of her hand to warm it. "But he's not out of danger yet. He lost a good amount of blood and the concussion is worrying me a bit. And I'm not even talking about the possible infection; we're running out of meds…" she added, putting the stethoscope in her ears and placing the other end on Daryl's chest. "I'm going to take a look at your wounds and then I will cover you back," she said when she felt him shivering.
Daryl didn't have the strength to reply, so he just nodded.
"Arghhhhhhh," he groaned when she touched his left side.
"Sorry," she apologised, letting go of his torso to remove the sheet from his leg and uncover another wound.
Daryl saw that he was wearing only a pair of black boxers and was suddenly glad that he didn't decide to go commando the day of the accident. When Samantha was done examining his leg, she did like she said and put the sheet back on him. She even when to grab another blanket from one of the drawers of the desk to lay on him as well.
"There, that's going to keep you warm," she said, smiling. "If you're still cold, just tell me, I'm going to find another one."
"Can you untie me?" Daryl asked with a small voice, when Samantha was looking at his eyes with a small light.
"Nope," the Governor said. "I don't trust you enough Dixon…and I don't want you to run away from me again…"
"Can I have a least something for the pain?" he asked again, weakly.
"No…To be honest with you, I enjoy seeing you suffer…" Philip confessed with a malicious smile on his face.
"So why don't you kill me and safe yourself the trouble?" Daryl demanded, when the woman move away from the bed.
"Because your life has more value than your death…" the Governor explained, smiling again when he grabbed the blanket and moved it to be sure that Daryl's shoulders were well covered. "Rick came back to Woodbury to save your ass; I'm sure he will do it again. But this time, I'm going to be ready for him and your little friends…"
On this, Philip left the room without another word and was followed by Samantha who shut the door behind her.
Closing his eyes, Daryl was totally despondent; he was hurt, weak and being kept hostage by the Governor. His worst enemy wanted to use him to trap Rick and kill him, and probably the rest of the group as well. Daryl began to drift into an uneasy sleep thinking he'd rather of died on the road than be responsible for the death of the people he had come to call his family.
When Glenn returned to the prison, everyone noticed that Daryl was missing. So the Korean didn't wait to explain what happened and what he saw on the road; Daryl's bike, the blood and the truck.
Carol dropped on the floor in tears. She couldn't live thinking that Daryl was maybe hurt or dead somewhere. Maggie and Beth had taken her to her cell while the others planned what to do next.
Rick had paced the court yard for a while. Daryl was like his second in command but he was also his friend. He had no idea how he would keep going without him. He didn't know if he was still alive, but they had to find out.
Glenn took Rick and Tyreese and drove back to the place where he had found Daryl's crossbow. They had searched the area for several hours and went for a ride by the road taken by the dark truck, but they didn't find anything that could help them. Since they didn't know who was driving the mysterious vehicle, they didn't want to go further without being fully prepared. Glenn had insisted that they bring back Daryl's bike to the prison. The motorcycle was still working; the front was damaged, but nothing that a few tools couldn't fix.
It had been two days since Daryl went missing and Rick, Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, Carl, Hershel, Tyreese, Karen, Sasha and Robbie were in the common area and were discussing what they should do.
"What are we going to do next?" Carl asked, having enough of his father's plans. "We can't let Daryl die….
"We don't even know if he's still alive," Sasha noted, getting a few 'shut up' like faces coming from the others. "He could have become a walker already…"
"Nothing is telling us that he's dead," Rick reminded them before they started arguing.
"I'm still sure the Governor is behind this," Glenn said, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Well, if you're right, Daryl is probably dead," insisted Karen . Karen. "He killed his own people, so I'm sure he would kill one of yours without hesitation."
"Us, Karen, one of 'us'," Rick corrected. "You're part of this group now."
Everyone nodded and stayed silent for a while.
"He's keeping him as leverage," Michonne said, breaking the silence.
"And how do you know that?" Sasha asked, suspicious.
"I kind of figured out that bastard," the black woman began. "There something he wants more than anything, I'm sure…See me dead because I killed his already dead daughter and took one of his eyes…And he wants to take revenge over Rick and the group because he failed when he tried to take the prison and couldn't kill us. He's probably keeping Daryl; he knows we'll do everything we can to bring him back."
"Maybe Michonne is right, if we consider that the Governor really has Daryl," Hershel said. "But we have to make sure that no one else took him. I mean, he obviously crashed his bike, so he was probably injured. Someone might have seen him and decided to help him. And Glenn came back too late to see who it was…"
"So, you think it's my fault!?" Glenn guessed angrily.
"No, Glenn…not at all…" Hershel explained, trying to clarify what he said. "I was just showing the facts. I don't blame you at all…Daryl is the one who asked you to leave without him."
"But it's not his fault either," Glenn said again.
"Stop it…It's nobody's fault," Rick stated before their discussion went out of control. "Arguing against each other won't help Daryl."
"Rick's right!"
Everyone went silence; Carol had entered the room, her arms on her chest and was accusing them with her eyes.
"While all of you are fighting to know who's right or wrong, Daryl is probably out there injured or kept against his will. If he was okay, he would have come back already. So just stop talking and go find him. If you're not able to do that, tell me…I will go find him myself."
At these words, Carol left the room and walked back into the cellblock. Everyone looked at each other and knew she was right.
Daryl woke up when he felt a sharp pain on his left side. He opened his eyes and saw Samantha sitting on a chair next to his bed. She had gloves and was lightly touching his wound.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you or wake you up," she said, smiling. "I just want to make sure that there's no infection. Good news, you seem fine for now," she added, covering the wound with a clean bandage and putting back the sheet over the injured man. "How are you feeling?"
"Like you care…" Daryl grumbled, harshly. He tried to move but quickly remembered that he was tied up.
"In fact, I do…I wouldn't be here taking care of you if I didn't…" the woman said, removing her gloves and throwing them in a bin filled with blood soaked bandages. "So, how do you feel?"
"Like shit…"
"Can you be more specific?"
"Why? There's nothing you can do even if I'm in pain…" Daryl said, coughing lightly.
"You should be thirsty…Do you want some water?" Samantha asked, standing up.
Daryl nodded. The blond woman left the room and came back two minutes later with a glass of water.
"There…Let me help you," she said, putting a hand behind the man's head and rearranging the pillows so he could be half sit. She brought the glass to Daryl's lips and helped him drink slowly. "And take two of these," she added, opening a small bottle of pills and removing two of them.
"What is it?"
"Pain killers…"
"I thought I couldn't have anything against the pain…"
"Philip decided that, not me…" the woman explained, with another smile. "And I'm the doctor in this place, so I'm the one who decides what to do with my patient." She slid the pills between Daryl's lips and made him drink again.
"I don't understand why you're working for that bastard," Daryl said, fighting back the sleep again. "You seem to care too much for people for that…"
"Philip's not a bastard; he's a really good man…"
"Well, it seems like you don't know him as well as I do…" he said, cutting her off.
"Oh, I know him really well…I've known him my whole life…"
"Really!?"
"Of course…Philip is my uncle…"
