CHAPTER III: PAST ALWAYS HURTS

"So, there you go. No more bleeding, see?" I said after taking care of the little wound in a knee of a seven-year-old boy, named Liam.

"Yeah. It doesn't hurt anymore." He said, smiling to me.

"Well, that's why I'm here for." I said, shaking his blonde hair. "To stop the pain. Now get out of my sight, go play in the yard!"

He smiled as he went away running.

"BUT BE CAREFUL!" I yelled, still smiling.

I was in the infirmary of the prison, which Hershel, Glenn and I had recondition to make it a real place to attend hurt people. It was just beside the yard, in the lowest floor, so I mostly attended kids. That was right for me, and also gave me time to be by myself and to stand in the outside, with fresh air, when I had no patients (mostly all the time), reading some medicine books I took from Woodbury.

"Ya have a way with kids…" Daryl said from the door, I raised my head at him and smiled. I was always glad to see his face, his lips curled with a smile.

"Of course I do, Dixon." I said. "Why are you here? Did you shot yourself an arrow to your feet or somethin'?"

He chuckled.

"Yeah, ya wish. Nah, I'm comin' with Carol, she'll be here in a minute."

I nodded.

"Well, while we wait, would you like to get a check-up?" I raised an eyebrow at him "It's free."

He laughed out loud and came closer to me, as he sat on the stretcher looking at me I looked at him shocked. I expected some ironic commentary, not that he wanted me to really check him up.

"If ya want ta…"

I chuckled.

"Actually I'm more used to check you out, but…"

"Just like me."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Huh? Do you check me out?"

He inclined his head to a side, actually checking me out. He looked my face and went down, and then up again.

"Hey!" I said, feeling too observed, though I didn't really cared. He laughed. Oh, I liked this naughty Daryl. "What you think? You like what you see?" I asked joking.

He smiled.

"Much." He said, and the way he was looking at me said so. "Ya look good with that bun in your hair."

I made myself a messy bun to work better.

"Don't mock on me, Dixon!" I said, giving him a soft punch in the chest. He laughed."

"Sorry, Doc."

"I'm not a doctor. If you want to, maybe a nurse."

"Ya're one of those naughty nurses I've heard of, huh?"

I laughed out loud.

"Maybe." I couldn't believe how he was talking to me. "Why are you in so good mood, Dixon?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"I've had a good night. I've slept well."

I continued the joke.

"Did you dreamt 'bout me?"

He smiled.

"Actually yeah, I did."

I gasped, stunned.

"I'm gonna ask a risky question. What do I did in your dream?"

He raised an eyebrow at me, but in that moment a "knock, knock" came from the door. Oh, for Christ sake. I was about to do something wrong and dirty in the stretcher, so maybe this was better. I looked to the door and saw Carol with a little baby, crying out loud in her arms.

"Oh!" I said, smiling "Is this Rick's baby?"

"Yeah…" Carol said, coming closer and she gave me the baby. "I introduce you Lil' Asskicker."

I laughed and looked back at Daryl, who had gone down the stretcher.

"That Nickname must be your fault."

"Guilty." He said, raising his arms in a surrender way.

"And do you have a real name, Lil' Asskicker?" I asked.

"Judith." Carol said.

"Judith. Beautiful name for a beautiful baby. You're the proof that the world is still a beautiful place somehow, Lil' Asskicker, you know that?" I said, with that silly voice I used to use when I was talking to a baby. Daryl chuckled. "Not a word, Dixon…" I said, with that same childish voice. "What's the matter?" I asked to Carol.

"She doesn't stop crying, and she doesn't want to eat."

I nodded and put the baby in the stretcher. She kept crying and moaning as I started touching her belly. I asked Carol a few questions about the baby habits.

"Ok, here's your remedy." I said, as I put the baby facedown and started massaging the baby's belly with careful hands. "She has colic. It's really normal in babies with less than three months… it can last almost a year, but with warmth and massages, it'll past."

The baby stopped crying.

"Wow." Daryl said in a surprised tone very offensive. "Ya actually know what ya're doing."

I frowned at him.

"Thanks, Dixon. You're a kind fucker. You think I'd accept to be here all the fucking day if I didn't know what to do?"

Daryl giggled.

"Well, I meant…"

"Whatever." I said, bothered. "Let her sleep, and feed her when she asks to." I said. "Goodbye, Lil' Asskicker." I said to the beautiful baby face, with large blue eyes. "Oh, you have your father's gorgeous eyes… that's nice." I said to her.

"Huh?" Daryl asked.

I rolled my eyes and turned back the baby to Carol, who was surprised too.

"I don't want to seem a gossip, but, did you ever have kids? You have a real thing with them."

I got tense; I didn't want to think about it.

"No." I said roughly. "Anything else?"

"No…" Carol said, ashamed "Sorry, it's just… I had a daughter and she never had colic, so I didn't know…"

"You had a child?" I asked, with pain in my voice.

"Yes. She was named Sophia. She died some months ago."

I nodded, feeling bad for being so rough at her.

"I'm sorry for you and your girl. It's just… I never had kids on my own, but I did have kids around me. My sister had a baby boy. He had two years the last time I saw him."

"Oh!" Carol said, Daryl was still silent, but he was looking at me. Well, I was still a little mad at him. "I'm sorry. You lost them?"

I shook my head, feeling my eyes were burning.

"No, I… I don't know. They lived in Europe, Ireland. I saw them the last time like two weeks before the epidemic started. I don't know anything of them."

Carol looked at me, and I knew she was in pain too.

"That's horrible, Alicia. I know it. Sophia was lost for several days till we found her… or what was her." I swallowed. "It's better to know what is happening, even if it's bad. The wait, the ignorance… its killing."

"Yeah, it is… but I have to deal with it. I've made my mind I'll never know anything of them."

Carol nodded.

"I guess we all have lost people. In one way or another."

I nodded and turned around, grabbing a book. I hoped they got the message. Out of here, don't wanna talk anymore.

I heard footsteps leaving the infirmary, and I sighed. I shook my head, no; it wasn't allowed to think of that, never. I don't have a family, I've never had one. That's how things are now.

"Ya ok?"

I jumped; I didn't know Daryl was still there.

"Yeah." I said.

He came closer, I heard his steps, and then I felt him right beside me. I turned around to face him. I was mad at him, and he knew it.

"Ya don't seem so."

I sighed.

"You know nothing about me, Daryl Dixon."

He nodded.

"I know ya're always joking around and smiling, and I like that. And I know ya're angry with me."

"Oh, really?" I said.

"Look, I…" Daryl didn't know what to say, I knew he was feeling awkward. He wasn't exactly a speech kind of guy. "I didn't mean to say that. I was just saying that ya're really good with this medicine and kids stuff… I… whatever, drop it." He said, and he tried to turn around, but I grabbed his arm.

"No, keep talking." I begged. We were inches apart, and I could felt his warm breath in my face.

"Just… Don't be mad at me, ok?" He said. I smiled.

"Why?"

"'Cause I don't want it. I… sometimes I say things… I always mess up the good things…"

I smiled at him, grabbing his hand.

"You didn't mess up anything. I'm fine. Especially with you."

He put his hand in my chin.

"Ok."

"Aliiiii…" A childish voice said from the door, making us both jump. "I got hurt…"

"Liam! I told you to be careful!"

The blonde kid looked to the floor, embarrassed.

"I guess I'll see ya later…" Daryl said, as he went away. I looked as him as he got further. I wasn't sure if the next time we'll talk, he was going to be so communicative. He had this strange mood, I never know how he's gonna be when I'll go talk to him. He might be nice, might be naughty, might be flirty or might be rough, and closed in himself. I really thought he felt some attraction to me; he used to look me when he thought I wasn't noticing it, and he always smiled when we saw each other. He came to talk to me daily, and I noticed he always did that with me and Rick. Came just to talk, to joke, to laugh. And he never laughed with anyone but me, so… what was the deal? I liked him, much, and it seemed that he liked me too… maybe he just needed sometime… he was a little bit shy, he felt awkward when he had to say more than two phrases together. Well, I guess I could give him sometime, if that's what he needed. It was worth it. But maybe he needed me to come to him, to be the one that started this…

"Ah, men!" I said, exasperated.

"What?"

"Nothing. Let me see your knee. AGAIN."

I hit with my axe at mi right, with a fast movement. Then I kicked, I punched, and I crossed my axes down, in a deathly movement. I did a somersault on the floor and I got up with a jump, hitting with my axes at the messy-made puppet I've created with old clothes. It lost its head and I frowned.

"You weren't supposed to do that, fucker…" I mumbled, as I took it and tried to reassemble it with heavy breaths.

"You're quite good with those axes." A man said close to me. He was tall, with icy blue eyes and dark hair He usually had a serious expression, but now he was almost smiling… Rick was leaning against the wall. I was training myself in the little backyard, making sure I'll be alone. It was a lonely little zone, with trash and ruins all around… it was near the ruined building, infested of walkers, but it had a fence to separate both areas. Most of people didn't where there, 'cause it was uglier than the rest of the prison, so it was the best place for me to be on my own. It seemed it didn't work, after all. I smiled at Rick.

"Well, thanks, Boss." I told him. "I was just exercising myself… don't want to lose my fighting abilities."

He nodded.

"Sure. It's good to keep fit. You can try your aim, too. Carl made this dartboard…"

I shook my head.

"Thanks, but I gave up on that long ago. I'm not a good shooter. I'm better with body-against-body fights. I've got a bow, a messy one, but it's more an emergency weapon, you know…"

"And with guns?" Rick asked.

I sighed.

"I'm awful. And I didn't practice a lot cause, you know, their loud as hell, and the ammo ain't eternal, so…" I shrugged my shoulders. "I wasn't even good at darts!"

Rick chuckled a little.

"But if a horde of walkers surrounded you, you couldn't fight them all with axes. Guns are more useful. A shot in the forehead always work."

"And also cutting their heads off."

He raised his eyebrows.

"I guess why you get along so well with Daryl."

I smiled.

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

He smiled.

"You're kind of a hunter, like him… instead you hunt walkers."

I laughed.

"A hunter with no aim! That's fun!"

He laughed too.

"May I teach you a little?" He asked.

I nodded.

"Sure, Boss."

He giggled; he used to do it when I called him "Boss". But that's what he was, or not?

"Ok, take my gun." He said, giving me a 9 mm. light gun. I took it, pressing my lips. I wasn't really into guns. I held it and I focused it to the puppet's head.

"Now, there's a problem here." Rick said, getting closer. "You have to stretch your arm like this." He said, grabbing my elbow and pushing up, till my arm was absolutely straight. "Right. And you gotta keep your shoulders back, your back straight." He gave me a pat in the back.

"Ok, got it."

"Now you gotta focus… look at it… think of what's your objective. Look it straight and balance it with the gun. Breathe deeply."

I took a long breath and looked at the puppet's head. Rick had his hand on my shoulders in a very fatherly way. It was nice. I hadn't had a man touching me like that in a long time. It was tender, pure. Though maybe it didn't seem so from the outside.

"What da hell ya're doing?" A southern voice said. I jumped and pulled the trigger, a loud shot left the gun, hitting the puppet's head and blowing it up.

"Daryl, Jesus! You scared the shit out of me!" I said. "But I made it!" I laughed. "You saw that, Rick? You're a real good teacher."

"Oh, yeah? Ya're so, Rick?" Daryl said with a rough voice. I didn't understand why he was angry.

"Yeah. I was teaching her how to shoot."

"Why?"

I inclined my head a bit.

"Well, nobody else offered to." I said. "And Rick was kind enough to propose himself to help me with my crappy aim. And he made it quite well, actually."

"IS EVERYTHING OK DOWN THERE?" Glenn voice said from the guard tower.

"YES! JUST PRACTICING SHOTS!" Rick shouted. "I gotta go do some stuff…" Rick mumbled. "Good shot, Alicia, but…"

"But what?" I said.

"You would have missed if Daryl didn't show up. He made you jump and moved your focus. You would have hit the puppets' leg."

I frowned.

"Well, that's crap. Told you I have no aim." I said, a little disappointed.

"Keep practicing." He said, he nodded at Daryl and went away.

"THANK YOU ANYWAY!" I said to his back. He raised a thumb.

Daryl came closer to me.

"Ya didn't say ya wanted ta learn how to shoot."

I frowned.

"Well, I told you I didn't know how to do it. Rick just gave me the option, and I decided to take it."

He nodded.

"Ok, I get it."

"What?"

"Just… ask me if ya want to learn. I'll teach ya. Ya have a bow, huh?"

I nodded.

"A crappy one."

"Ok. Give me some time and I'll get another for ya. I'll teach ya how to shoot arrows. They're quieter and ya can get them back once you shoot them."

I smiled.

"That would be great. Can't wait."

He nodded.

"Rick was just nice at me. He treated me like a daughter or somethin' like that."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Ok. Never mind."

"Then why you angered at him?"

He sighed, looking at me chewing his lip.

"Ya surprised me. I didn't expect ta found ya both here like that."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Ok…" If he didn't wanna admit he was jealous, I wasn't the one that will push him to. "I'll keep training, then."

"Ok."

I looked at him; he was standing there, frowning.

"Sometimes you can be a difficult man, Dixon."

"I know that."

"Good."

"And so are ya."

"I'm easy as a 21-year-old woman can be. Don't force your luck, Dixon."

He smiled.

"Easy, woman. I won't."

I looked at him raising an eyebrow. Then I shook my head and picked my axes from the floor.

"Where did ya get those axes from?" He asked. My two axes had short handles and big steely blades. They were quite heavy, but still easy to handle. For me, at least.

"A friend gave them to me my last birthday, as a joke."

"What a present."

"It made me laugh. And now is the best present they could have given to me."

He nodded and smiled at me.

"Twenty-one, huh?"

I looked at him.

"Yeah."

"Ya seem older."

I puffed.

"You sure know how to treat a girl, Dixon."

He smiled, surrounding me and going leaning on the wall, his crossbow in one hand.

"I mean, ya don't seem a crazy-college-girl."

"Well, that's 'cause I'm not. I'm a fighting-zombies-girl. See?" I said, raising one of my axes.

"I mean 'fore this."

I looked at his eyes.

"I neither was then. I was… on my own. Living wild, you know?"

He chuckled.

"Well, and what thought your parents 'bout that?"

I sighed.

"They weren't there, so fuck them."

Daryl nodded.

"How's that?"

I sighed again, exasperated.

"Look, Daryl, I didn't want to talk 'bout my family this morning and I still the same, ok?"

He raised his hands.

"I neither had parents." He said. "My mom died and my dad was a fucker. Merle was there for me, but he spent a lot of time in jail, so…"

I looked at him, pressing my lips. I knew that. Merle told me. Daryl was alone very often, even when he was little. And his father wasn't the kind of guy that take care of his children, so, every time Merle was jailed or "having fun" anywhere, Daryl was alone, and he had to figure out how to live like that. It was sad, unfair, and annoying. But I understood it.

"Well, that's not my story." I said. "But you don't wanna hear it."

He sat on the floor, leaning his back in the wall.

"Sure I wanna. Come here."

I didn't know how to say "no" to him, so I sat beside him, our arms touching.

"Well, my dad was a fucker too. He liked whiskey and he liked being the boss. He liked that we were scared of him, my mom, my sister and me. And we were."

"I guess fathers always suck."

"Nuh-huh." I shook my head "Not always. Look at Rick. Or Hershel. Anyway, my mom wasn't a saint. She knew the only way to like my dad was "having fun" with him. And she was good at it too. She was a great drinker. But she knew another man that treated her better, not well, just better, and she went away. My sister got married, her husband was Irish, so… bye Sis'. I was sixteen by then. And I knew my father felt alone…"

Daryl looked at me.

"He tried somethin'?"

I shook my head.

"I left before he could. And I made it by my own, my way. It wasn't exactly a good way, but at least nobody hit me or touched me without my consent."

Daryl surrounded my shoulder with his arm.

"And your sister? Why ya didn't go with her?"

I sighed.

"I wasn't exactly a good girl, Daryl. I drank, I did drugs, I fucked with every guy I met…" I rolled my eyes. "Too much information. Sorry."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, don't worry. I thought ya were a good girl."

I laughed.

"That's a good one! Nobody told me that before."

"I still think that, actually."

"Well, I recovered from that. I got an apartment, a job, and left my bad habits… except smoking. Talking about…" I said, taking off my pack of cigarettes "Want one?"

"Sure."

We lit them and took a long drag.

"So ya stopped fuckin' everybody?"

I laughed.

"Yeah, pretty much. But when people say you're a whore once, they keep on telling that all your life. I didn't mind. Preferred being a ho rather than a sweetie silly girl that secretly… you know."

He nodded.

"Well, let's say ya had fun a couple of years."

I laughed.

"Ok. Let's say that. Sounds well."

"Ya had a fucked up childhood, its normal ya didn't know how ta be an adult at sixteen."

"You had a fucked up childhood too, and, to be honest, you hadn't the best paternal model with Merle. You did the same I did?"

He shrugged.

"More or less."

I laughed.

"I can imagine all the girls in your town starting to sweat when they saw you in that bike… 'Oh, God, that's Daryl Dixon! He's so hot, and so bad… he fucked Betty Sue and never called her again!'" I laughed out loud, and Daryl did the same.

"It would have been a real hard meeting if we had found each other before this." Daryl said.

"Oh, yes." I nodded. I wanted to add 'I would totally have tried to fuck you' but I thought it was better to keep my big mouth shouted.

We took a drag.

"We did it quite well, anyway." He said. "Maybe our past life helped us to get through this."

"Yeah. We're survivors, Dixon. We've always been. But I would have liked to have a normal childhood. No drunk dad or passed out mom, no hits, and no beatings up. Just, you know, a family."

"Yeah. I guess it was a crap to be us."

I rested my head on his shoulder, hiding him the lonely tear that left my eyes.