'Hi :) It's me, here's chapter 7. I hope ya'll enjoy it. And oh, please bear in mind that I ain't a doctor okay? lol I have zero medical training so let's all just go with it ;)'

Disclaimer: 'The Walking Dead' and all its plots and characters belong too Robert Kirkman, Frank Darabont, AMC and etc... (always forget to include that)


Chapter Seven


"Ouch!" Andrea yelped, skin jumping and she flinched away from his hands scowling at them dirtily.

Daryl rolled his eyes, "Please, it's a wipe, Blondie chill."

She glared at him, "It's an anti-septic wipe, Dixon. They, hurt!" she growled smacking his shoulder.

"Oi!" He barked at her through clenched teeth, "Am tryin' tae help ye 'ere. Don't hit me."

Andrea fell back onto the table in defeat, a pout pursing her lips.

Daryl's eyes narrowed, thrown by her sudden surrender. Blondie usually put up more of a fight. She was feisty. That's why he liked her. Shaking it off though, Daryl focused on his "patient" and went back to cleaning her wound out.

The blood had spread right across her exposed abdomen and Daryl hastily wiped it off.

Andrea hissed whenever he made contact with her torn up and angry flesh. It stung like a bitch and this was just the beginning too.

Daryl removed the last of the thick red liquid from her stomach and stilled, "Wha' the hell...?" he murmured to himself as he gazed intently down at the two button sized round scars on her torso; one resting just beneath her ribcage and the second inches from her belly button. There was also a long, raised white scar in between them, horizontal in placement.

Daryl tilted his head curiously; he knew what those were. The long one was a surgical scar and the other two...he had a couple himself. Blondie had been shot before?

"It's not a big deal." Andrea spoke up, cutting into his thoughts.

Daryl's eyes flashed to hers then stated simply, "You've been shot. Twice."

"Three times." She corrected smoothly, "But I don't wanna talk about it."

"Good." Daryl bristled, tasting the lie on his tongue, "Cause I don' care, 'n a wasn't gonna ask."

Not true. He did care and he had been about to ask. Now she was even more of a mystery than before and although he was reluctant to admit it, intriguing. There was clearly much still to be discovered about Andrea...shit, he didn't even know her last name.

Daryl wanted to know what else there was too this mysterious woman, but right now really wasn't the time to be askin' those sorts of questions.

Andrea shifted uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny. It really wasn't a big deal, she just didn't remember much about it is all. Made for a lot less interesting story.

"Alrigh'..." Daryl turned his attention back to the girl, "Sophia, get those bandages ready." He instructed calmly, trying to be kind despite the high stress situation they were in.

Sophia nodded affirmatively, "Okay."

Andrea watched the hunter, flinching reflexively when he pulled out the smaller and thinner of his two knives.

"Oh, god." She breathed, twisting away. Was she really about to let him do this?! Maybe she had lost all of her sanity after all.

Breathing deeply to calm her racing, pounding heart, Andrea's wide and anxious eyes found the frightened face of a traumatised twelve year old girl and all of her uncertainty vanished. This was her only option, Daryl was her only option and right now Sophia was all that mattered, all that could matter. Getting that girl back to Carol was their number one priority and she couldn't do what she had to do in her current state.

"It's alright." Andrea whispered softly, hand brushing the girl's face with a light touch, "Daryl knows what he's doing but don't watch, okay?"

Sophia grabbed the hand caressing her face tightly, bobbing her head.

"Good." Andrea smiled at her then turned back to her own saviour, "You do know what you're doing here, right? I didn't just lie to her?"

Daryl scowled, despite how valid the question was, "Merle ended up on the wrong end ae a shotgun once."

She snorted, rolling her eyes, "Why doesn't that surprise me?" she chirped teasingly, light laughter closely following, "I'm guessing you didn't take him to a hospital." Andrea assumed confidently, "Since the police tend to get involved with gunshot wounds."

"'Xactly." Daryl confirmed with a tight nod, cracking his neck, "Bitch was a shit shot too." He mused with a menacing glare at Bill before returning his gaze to her again, "A dug 'em outta 'im."

Andrea exhaled slowly, eyes staring up at the ceiling, right hand once again clutching at his shoulder. That comforted her a little, not much but enough. "Do it." She instructed with a decisive nod.

Daryl nodded back, drawing in his own breath. Rolling his shoulders, he clenched his jaw as he slowly brought the blade down towards her flesh.

The tip touched her skin and he stopped.

Andrea snapped her eyes open when the pain she'd been anticipating never came, "Dixon? Wha—why'd you stop?"

His stormy blue eyes found hers and they were full of reluctance, doubt and conflict. He wanted to help her but he didn't like having to hurt her to do so.

"Hey?" Andrea called softly, holding his gaze steady as she read all of that in his eyes, "I trust you, Daryl Dixon." She informed him certainly, "You may not believe that but it's true. You know what you're doing and I trust your judgement but if it helps..." that familiar playful smirk of hers made a sudden reappearance, "...you're really all I've got right now so it's you and it's this or I die." She stated plainly.

Daryl's lips twitched. He appreciated the slight comic relief and nonchalance over her life for his benefit but Daryl Dixon was a perceptive guy. He read people and he could see the fear in her eyes, see just how much—dare he even say it—faith she was placing in him and his past experience.

Well shit, he better not fuck up then.

Daryl swiftly sanitised the blade of his knife yet again, as best he could with water and antiseptic wipes. He did the same to his hands one more time and then without looking at her face or acknowledging what he was about to do to her, took the blade to her flesh.

Andrea cried out at the initial contact, her muscles contracting and stiffening before she remembered their current circumstance and clamped her mouth shut.

Daryl dug the tip in and around, feeling for the pellet and trying to inflict the least amount of pain on the blonde squirming beneath his hands as possible.

He'd enjoyed Merle's discomfort. The bastard—although he loved him—had deserved it. Karmic retribution but Blondie was another story.

To her credit, once again, she was barely makin' a sound now. Her teeth were gritted together, jaw clenched and eyes squeezed tightly closed. The nails of her right hand were rippin' somethin' awful into the skin of his left shoulder but Daryl really didn't mind. If it helped keep her quiet and them alive he'd happily let her tear his flesh to shreds. Least he could do.

"Got it!" he announced out of the blue, bringing the pellet to the very surface with the blade, then scooping it out with his fingers.

Andrea breathed a ragged sigh of relief; the feeling of him digging around in her flesh was quite the disturbing experience. It hurt like hell and made her stomach flip violently. Every nerve-ending in her entire body came to life as soon as he touched her side. It was like an electrical current charging through her, it reached everywhere; every inch, every cell stealing her breath and stalling her heart and it was just downright torturous.

He had how many more to go?

"One-one down." Andrea muttered breathlessly, running her tongue along her lips.

Daryl caught that action and was momentarily rendered a little senseless. Her chest was heaving up and down in a very distracting way and he had to swallow hard, his throat drying up. There wasn't time for that bullshit. Yeah, she had a pretty face and her eyes were a little entrancing at times he'd noticed but that was it...except it wasn't. She was more than a woman with nice eyes and a pretty face.

Muscles trembling, Andrea cleared her throat and sought timidly, "How many to go, exactly?" really fearing his answer.

Daryl paused, movements stilling before he cleared his own throat and answered quickly, "A few."

Blue-green eyes narrowed suspiciously. He was being evasive. Daryl Dixon was not evasive; he was a straight-to-the-point kinda guy. That's why she liked him. He didn't do bullshit.

"Daryl Dixon." Andrea articulated irately, "Answer the question."

He raised his wary blue seas to meet her demanding orbs, "You sure ye wanna know?"

Her glare was all the assurance he required.

"Alrigh'..." Daryl sighed wearily, "...there's 'bout a dozen ae 'em embedded." He revealed, eyes watching her carefully.

Andrea's stare was blank. Holy shit.

"Holy shit!" she panted anxiously, wide eyes full of dread. She had to endure that a dozen more times?!

Fuck. No.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Andrea whispered, left hand flying to her forehead, "I can't do that again!" she exclaimed, shaking her head in refusal.

Daryl's face hardened, "Ye gotta." He countered trying to stay calm for her sake. This is what he'd been worried about. The woman couldn't stay zen!

"Is something wrong?" Sophia queried fearfully, wide orbs darting between the two adults.

Daryl shook his head.

"There is." Sophia insisted with a frown, "Is Andrea not going to be okay? Can't you get them out?"

He looked down at Andrea pointedly. She tried to glare but it didn't take. Her eyes fell closed and she fought against tears, her mouth twisting in pain as she covered her eyes.

Daryl's face clouded with concern when her shoulders shook once then twice with silent sobs, before she inhaled deeply and cleared her throat.

Andrea dropped her hand from her face and blinked her eyes clear of moisture, then turned her head to the girl, "Of course he can." She assured with a soft smile voice a little choked up, "Everything's okay, it just..." Andrea reached out, cupping her cheek again and whispered, "...it just hurts that's all."

Sophia's eyes filled with concern, her frown deepening but she seemed to appreciate the honesty if the squeeze to the other blonde's hand meant anything.

Sophia's brown eyes moved to Daryl a little uncertain, "But you're helping her right?"

Daryl tried to smile reassuringly, "Yeah."

The young girl nodded at him then went back to repacking Andrea's bag as a means of distracting herself.

Andrea promptly dropped her head back onto the table with a strained sigh, "God."

Daryl touched her shoulder, head tilted to the left, "You good?"

Lips pressed firmly together, Andrea jerked her head but didn't trust herself to speak. Instead she gripped his shoulder, clenched the fist of her left hand and closed her eyes, silently awaiting the imminent torture.

~T.W.D~


'I'll post the next chapter probably Friday :) Please, review review review! They are my crack and I'm in need of a fix ;) lol

Rachel xoxo'