And this is where Daryl starts to get a little OOC. I hope it's okay with you all and I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's my favorite so far! :)
Chapter Three
This was all another hallucination. It had to be. There was no way his angel from the convenience store could be here. She was long gone, living her life somewhere far away. Somewhere he had no business of ever being.
"Oh, God, there's so much blood!" Her voice sounded panicked and pressure was placed on his side. Daryl couldn't help but wince at the pain.
"I'm so sorry!" She cried. She even looked to be near tears. Definitely a dream, then. No one would cry over him. Ever.
"You're an angel, ain't you?" His voice came out raspy and he lifted a hand to brush the one she had still pressed to his wound, weakly.
"N-No, I'm not." Beautiful, auburn curls framed her face and pale, blue eyes shone with unshed tears. The sun shone from behind and gave her an ethereal glow. A glow worthy of an angel.
"Course you are." One side of his mouth quirked up in a semi-smile. "You are too beautiful to not be an angel."
Red bloomed across her cheeks. Hell, she even blushed prettily.
"You've got a concussion. You're not thinking straight."
"I am thinkin' straight, and you're fuckin' beautiful." His mind and vision were getting hazy, now, and he was finding it hard to focus. Black spots sprouted in his vision and Daryl found himself fighting to stay conscious.
What if he closed his eyes and his angel disappeared?
Carol was surprised at how agile she was as she descended down the ravine. Normally, she could be quite the klutz. Maybe it was because someone's life could be in danger. The man hadn't moved since Carol had first spotted him, and that worried her. What if she was too late? A fall, like the one he took, could have easily killed him.
Finally, Carol reached the bottom and ran to where the man laid. When she saw the rise and fall of his chest, she let out a large sigh of relief. "Thank God," she breathed. "He's still alive."
However, there was a lot of blood. And...and was that an arrow sticking from his side?
Carol felt like fainting.
No! She clutched her fists, hard. This man needed her help and she wouldn't be much if she were unconscious, too.
Kneeling beside the man's prone body, she started to shake him, hoping that it would help to somehow regain consciousness. The shaking probably wasn't a good idea, since she didn't know the full extent of his injuries, but when he started to groan, she knew it had worked.
His eyes started to flutter, for which Carol was glad, because if he didn't wake up, she had no idea what to do with him. There was no way she would have been able to carry him up the ravine by herself.
"Fuck, Merle!" His hand swatted out weakly and missed her. His eyes opened, then, and Carol marveled at the color. They were a cobalt blue, a color she had never seen on a man. Ed's had been mud brown and soulless. Despite just coming back from being unconsciousness, Carol could see a fire burning in the man's blue irises.
On further inspection of the man's features, Carol thought he looked vaguely familiar. Had they met before?
Even bloody and semi-conscious, he was handsome. Very handsome. And strong, too, if the size of his biceps had anything to say about it.
Carol wanted to touch them, but the man needed to be helped, not molested.
Looking down, she saw the wound in his side was trickling blood. There was a small puddle of forming on the dirt below.
"Oh, God, there's so much blood!" She pressed on the wound, some of her first-aid training coming back to her. The man winced away, hissing in pain.
"I'm so sorry!" Tears pricked her eyes as she started to feel helpless. This man was in pain and there was nothing she could do about it.
He opened his mouth to say something and she was sure it was to tell her to get the hell away from him, but instead, his words shocked her. Had he just called her an angel? He was definitely seeing things. The pain was probably messing with his brain. She was no angel, by any means. Her hair was frazzled around her face, sticking in places where she was sweating and she was covered in dirt. Definitely not angel material. He must have her mistaken for someone else.
"N-No, I'm not."
"Course you are." Half his mouth quirked up in a smile, which made him look even better-looking. "You're too beautiful to not be an angel."
Carol felt her face heat up and she wanted to cower behind her hands. "You've got a concussion. You're not thinking straight."
"I am thinkin' straight. You're fuckin' beautiful."
Carol couldn't believe the words spilling from his mouth. No one had ever called her beautiful. Not even Ed in the two years they had been married. In fact, he had said the opposite to her so many times that she started to believe that she wasn't something to look at.
She opened her mouth to say something about him obviously not thinking straight, again, but saw that his eyes were starting to lose focus.
He was starting to lose consciousness.
Carol shook him hard and his eyes jerked open. She couldn't help but smirk.
"We have to get you out of here," she said. "Do you think if I helped you to your feet, you'll be able to walk?"
"Course. I'mma Dixon. We're some tough sons of bitches." Without help, he sat up. The action must have caused him a considerable amount of pain because he made a face and nearly, toppled to his back. Carol stopped him with an arm around his shoulders before that could happen.
"I got you."
"Can you get on the other side?" He asked, wincing when he tried to lift up his left arm to wrap around her waist. The wound at his side pulled painfully tight as he tried. "Can't lift my arm that high and I'm goin' to need help standin'."
"Oh, of course!" Carol carefully unslung her arm from his shoulders and moved to the other side. With a grunt, the man wrapped an arm around her shoulders and together, they struggled to stand. The man swayed a bit once he was fully standing, but Carol steadied him.
"Now, that was the easy part." The pair turned to face the looming ravine. "That is goin' to be a bitch to climb."
The man's arm tightened around Carol. "At least, I got you to lean on, angel."
Carol couldn't help but smile. "Not sure how much help I'll be, but let's do this."
It was slow going. Daryl didn't want to rely too heavily on his angel. In fact, he attempted to climb the ravine without her assistance.
"Are you sure?" She had asked, blue eyes looking at him with concern.
"Yeah, I got this," he said with way more confidence than he felt. It was miracle he could put one foot in front of the other without falling on his ass.
"At least let me carry your crossbow."
Daryl couldn't help but turn to face her in shock. He was surprised that she actually knew what his weapon was called, and, even though, he never allowed anyone to touch it, even Merle, he found himself sliding the bow from his shoulder and handing it to her.
She beamed and gently took the weapon before sliding it over her own shoulder. Daryl's mouth went dry at the sight.
"Something wrong? Am I not holding it right?" She tilted her head slightly as she asked, waiting for him to speak. Daryl felt his face grow warm when he realized that he had been just standing there, staring.
"Naw, you're holdin' it just fine." Better than fine, actually. "But I was wonderin' if you were goin' to say behind me the whole time?"
"Yep. That way if you look like you're going to fall, I'll be there to catch you."
"Uh, you sure about that? My ass would probably crush you if I fell."
She just smiled and didn't look bothered at the possibility of being crushed. "Well, then, I guess that means don't fall."
Daryl wanted to kiss the ground once they reached the top of the ravine, but knew he wouldn't be able to get back up if he did. The wound in his side, where the arrow still sat, was pulled tight and now, that the adrenaline from the climb was starting to wear off, the pain was becoming a constant stabbing and was borderline unbearable. However, he kept his face neutral so that his angel would not know of his pain.
"Thank God, we finally made it!" Daryl turned to see her bending at the waist and taking in deep breaths. Her curly, auburn hair obscured her face as she bent over, but when she looked up, her pretty face was in full view and she smiled. "I think it was much easier going down than it was coming up."
"Hell yeah," he said through pain laced, deep breaths.
The woman straightened and adjusted the strap on her shoulder.
"Do you want me to take that back?" He asked and gestured to his crossbow. "It's pretty heavy."
"No, I got it. You shouldn't be carrying it, anyway." She walked up to him and slipped under his right arm to give him some support. "Come on. Let's get you back to my place and then, I'll drive you to the hospital."
"No," he jerked away from her. "No hospitals. I can take care of myself. Just give me a needle and thread and I'll have my side as good as new." Hospitals asked questions and Daryl didn't want to have to explain how he had gotten one of his own bolts in his side.
"But you have to go!" She protested and planted her hands on her hips. A pretty red flush appeared on her cheeks.
"I've gotten worse," he lied. "I can take care of this, easily."
His angel gave him a skeptical look. "Fine," she reluctantly agreed. "No hospitals. But," she punctuated the word with a finger pointed in his face. "If something happens and I think you need to go, then you're going, mister."
Daryl couldn't help but smirk at the expression on her face. She was dead serious. "All right, all right." He held up his right hand, while keeping the left one to his injured side. "If things get bad, I suppose you can take my ass to the hospitals."
"Wasn't asking your permission." She slipped back into her spot at his side. "I was just telling you that was going to happen. Now, lets get you out these woods before it gets dark."
Carol was so relieved when her home finally came into view. It hadn't been a long walk, but it seemed like for every ten steps they took, the injured man at her side leaned more and more heavily on her. Not that Carol, minded. He was injured, after all, but she doubted she'd be able to support his full weight and it felt like it was getting dangerously close to that point.
"How are you holding up?" She asked and looked up at him. His hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat and his eyes looked feverish. Carol was alarmed. He had looked just fine a few minutes ago.
"I'd like to say good, but my side is hurtin' like hell."
"All right. Once we get inside, I'll lie you down and give you some pain killers. That should help."
The man looked like he was about to protest, but shook his head, instead. "Sounds good."
"We probably should get that arrow out before you lie down. Right?" She peered around to his injured side and winced when she saw the blood-soaked shirt that was bound against the arrow.
"That would probably help. Goin' to hurt like a bitch, though."
"I could give you the pain killers before you pull it out and maybe, that will help with the pain."
Together they limped to the house and the man detached himself from Carol to lean against the wall beside the back door. "Naw. Let's jus' get this over with. Like rippin' off a band-aid."
"Pretty sure it's going to hurt more than a band-aid," Carol mumbled.
"Don't remind me." The man grunted and slowly undid the shirt that had bound the wood tightly. The garment slipped from his waist to the dirty with a plop. Carol winced at the amount of blood.
"Do you-Do you want me to pull it out for you?"
The man fixed her with a look. "Do you think you could?"
Carol looked at the arrow, embedded into his flesh and glanced back up at him. "Um. No." She knew she'd probably pass out if she had to.
"That's what I thought." He turned back to the wound wrapped both hands around the shaft of the arrow and began to pull. Carol felt dizzy as she watched and had to turn around, unless she pass out at his feet. She heard the man hiss and curse and pain, and then, there was a squelching sound that nearly made her gag.
"Got it."
Carol turned to see him holding up the bloody bolt with a triumphant grin. However, the blood seeping from his side caught her attention the most.
"Come on. We got to get you inside to take care of that. Now." She grabbed his hand and pulled him through the door to her house.
Daryl sat shirtless on top of the porcelain sink in his angel's bathroom. The wound in his side was bleeding freely, now, and staining his green khakis. She opened the cupboard above the sink and produced a bottle of pills.
"I got these when I broke my ankle awhile ago. They're really strong and they'll definitely help with the pain." She shook out two into his hand and gave him a glass of water to drink them with.
"Thank you." He handed back the glass. "Now, if you give me some thread and a needle, I can get to work on stitchin' myself up."
"Let me do it."
"What?" His eyes narrowed at her.
"I said, let me do it. It's going to be hard since it's at an odd angle and I took a first-aid class and they taught us how to do basic stitches." She sank to her knees in front of him(which caused him to gulp and force his thoughts elsewhere) and dug underneath the sink. She came back up with a cloth and some rubbing alcohol.
"I have to clean it up, though, and this is going to sting."
The pain killers were starting to kick in and Daryl felt his brain start to go fuzzy. They must have been extra-strength.
"Do-Do want you need to, angel." His words were slurred and he was starting to feel slightly drunk.
"My name is Carol." The woman smiled. "Not angel."
"But you are an angel." His side began to burn, then and he yelped.
"Sorry," Carol apologized and continued to clean his wound. "So, what's your name?"
"Daryl. Daryl Dixon." She didn't look like she recognized the name, which was a good thing. The Dixon reputation hadn't reached her ears. Even though, it was really his brother's reputation, not his.
"All right, Daryl, are you ready for the stitches."
"Yep." He nodded several times. His head felt very light.
"Looks like the pills are working." Carol smiled. She took a seat on the toilet, which gave her a better view at the wound in his side. "They made me really loopy when I took them. I didn't like it, so I stopped taking them. That's why there's so many in the bottle."
"Don't think I can feel my face." He brought his hand up and pinched his cheek. Nothing.
"Good," she said. "So, that means you won't feel this."
He felt an odd pulling sensation in his side and he looked down to see Carol carefully threading a needle through his skin. She was right, he didn't feel a thing.
Carol finished stitching up Daryl's wound with a proud smile. She looked up at her patient and saw that his head rested on the mirror behind him and he was snoring softly. Carol decided to take that moment to look him over.
Daryl was even handsomer shirtless. He wasn't built like a gym rat but there was definitely some muscle tone, there, and his shoulders...God, they were broad. As she scanned the expanse of his skin, her eyes fell on a long thick scar that slashed across his collarbone. Where had he gotten it? She was about to reach out to trace it with her fingers when he jerked awake. He turned blurry, blue eyes on her.
"Angel?"
"Carol," she corrected.
"Angel Carol?" He scooted to the edge of the sink and slid to feet. He almost fell over, but Carol caught him. "Can I lie down? I'm tired."
"Of course. I'll take you to my bed." She slipped to his uninjured side and he put most of his weight on her shoulders.
"Will you be in bed with me?"
"Um." Her cheeks felt hot. "No."
"Why not?" He turned pleading eyes to her. "I want you there."
"I can't. I'll probably hurt your side more, if I do." The excuse sounded lame, but she didn't know what else to say. They hardly knew one another and he wanted to sleep in the same bed as her. It had to be the painkillers talking.
"Fine," he pouted. Carol thought he looked adorable. "But will you be there when I wake up?"
"Of course!" She smiled.
They made their way to Carol's bedroom, which was thankfully only a door down from the bathroom. As gently as she could, Carol laid Daryl down on her bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. It looked like he had fallen asleep the moment he hit the mattress, but when she turned to leave, his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.
"Carol," he said, softly. Her heart jumped at how her name sounded in his voice. "Carol," he said, again.
"Yes, Daryl."
"My angel." His eyes looked impossibly clear as he started into her own. "Will you marry me?"
I was SUPER nervous to post this and I hope it wasn't too OOC for you. Daryl was on painkillers for the last half. However, I do plan on having him be a little out of character in this story. Hope that doesn't bother anyone!
I've also just gotten a tumblr, my name is axelrocks92. I probably won't post much on it since I'm lame, but if you follow me, I'll follow you! Especially if you have Caryl on your blog! :)
Thank you so much for giving this story a chance and reading it!
