Howdy friends! I feel bad leaving you with that awful cliffhanger last chapter, but sometimes its nessecary to keep you guys hanging! Lol. Hope you enjoy this one!
Own nothing Walking Dead related.
She was dead.
She had to be. Everything was dark and quiet. No sounds, no movement, nothing. Just a terrible pain in her abdomen where the bullet had hit. Wasn't pain supposed to go away after you died? Maybe she wasn't dead after all…
Wait, what was that? That sound? Like a voice almost, very far away. What was it saying? She strained her ears to hear. She had to be alive, if she was hearing things. The voice began to move closer…
"Wake up girl, wake up now. Come on, open your eyes."
She tried to open her mouth, tried to speak to the voice but nothing happened. Her mouth was glued shut. Her eyes wouldn't open either. The pain in her abdomen seemed to increase.
"Can you hear me, Hannah? Please, open your eyes. I'm afraid he'll tear this place apart if you don't. Open your eyes, Hannah. For Merle."
Merle. Merle. MERLE! The pain suddenly reached an excruciating climax, and Hannah's mouth and eyes flew open, a horrible scream renting the air as she awoke back into the land of the living.
"Ah, there we are," the voice she had been hearing spoke softly. "I knew you would wake up."
Hannah found her eyes resting upon an old man with soft eyes and a kindly face, looking at her warmly. He had longish white hair and a wispy white beard. Hannah thought he looked like a Southern Santa Claus. It was obvious she had been taken into the prison after being shot, and for some reason, they had tried to save her. She frowned. Weird people, first shooting at them and then saving her life.
"Took a while to dig the bullet out," the old man nodded towards her stomach. "Lucky for you, it missed all major organs and vessels. Also lucky for you, we'd just found a bunch of medical supplies in the infirmary."
Hannah glanced down at her stomach, a large white bandage covering most of it. She tried to sit up, but the pain was too much, and she fell back against the pillows, groaning.
"You stay in that bed and rest," the old man reached over to pull the coarse gray blanket back over her. "I'll go tell your companion there that you've woken up. Then maybe he'll stop trying to tear the whole place down." He turned and hobbled out the door of the cell.
As if on cue, a yell echoed from somewhere down the hall, followed by what sounded like repeated banging of fists on walls. Hannah sucked in a breath. Merle. She was so happy that he was alive. She had been afraid that they shot at him again after she had gone down. But why was he yelling? What were they doing to him? Why wasn't he here, with her? She pushed herself up, ignoring the searing pain in her stomach. She had to get to Merle. The man who had shot her could be hurting him.
It took her a few minutes, but she finally staggered to the door of her cell. The block was empty, as far as she could see. Merle yelled again, followed by another voice she did not recognize. She followed the sound out of the block and over to the next one. It was hard, painful work, but she would not give up. She had to get to her Merle, if it was the last thing she did.
Finally she reached the door to the next block. Propping herself up against the wall, she snuck a glance around the doorframe.
Merle was standing in the middle of the room, his face red as he yelled obscenities to the men standing across from him. The same group of people that had surrounded them in the courtyard were surrounding him now. Hannah could see his good fist clenching, and veins popping out on his forehead. He was mad. He also looked unhurt. That made Hannah breathe a tiny breath of relief.
One of the men he was yelling at was the man who had shot her. He looked defiant, unmoving. Hannah scowled. She did not like him. There was another man, one she hadn't seen before. He was average height, with a muscular build. He was standing there looking almost helpless, like he didn't know what to do about the situation. One hand came up so he could chew on his thumbnail nervously. Hannah frowned. That habit looked vaguely familiar…..
"You gotta let me see her!" Merle was yelling. "The doc said she's awake, I wanna see her!"
"You'll see her when I say you can see her," the man growled. "You follow my rules now. This isn't a democracy."
"Please," Merle dropped to his knees. "Please. I need to see her. Please!" he looked over to the second man, who shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Please, baby brother. Do this for your ol' Merle."
Hannah gasped. Baby brother! They'd found Daryl!
As big as that information was, it left her mind immediately when she returned her gaze to Merle's face. It was the face of a broken and desperate man. He was in utter anguish not being able to see her. Longing bubbled up inside of her, as she realized her pain wasn't just from her wound, but from her desire to see him too. She needed to be with her Merle right now, screw the grim man, and Daryl, and anyone else for that matter. She pushed herself up off the wall, and lurched into the room.
She'd only made it about 8 steps before she was engulfed in the warmth of his strong arms. He crushed her gently against his chest, his face buried in her hair. She clung to his bloodstained shirt, tears beginning to stream down her face at the sheer joy of being with him again. He sunk them down to the floor, where he rocked her small body against his, words tumbling freely out of his mouth.
"Thought I'd lost you," he sighed, his good hand smoothing back her red hair. "Thought you were gonna die, right after I'd gotten you back. They wouldn't let me see ya. I was going crazy," he pulled back to look at her, fire blazing in his eyes. "Don't ya ever do anything like that again, ya hear me? My life ain't worth yours. Not now, not ever."
Hannah wanted to tell him his life was worth everything, and that she'd choose to get shot everyday if it meant that his life would be spared. Instead, she reached up and brought his face down to hers, telling him without words how much he meant. His lips were hard and desperate against hers, kissing her as if she'd disappear from his arms at any moment.
"What's this now?" a voice broke into their reunion angrily. "Ya actually start caring about someone?"
The two lovers separated to find Daryl suddenly next to them, his eyes angry and his face stormy. Hannah felt Merle squeeze her a tiny bit tighter.
"Who's this, your little bitch?" Daryl snarled. "She fucking you, brother? Is that why yer so happy she's alive? Damn it, ya couldn't give a damn about me your whole life but suddenly yer all sappy over this woman?"
Merle set Hannah gently on the floor, standing up to face his brother.
"Now look here, little bro." he raised his hands. "I know things ain't been right between us, but that doesn't mean ya gotta go taking shots at Hannah."
"Fuck Hannah!" Daryl yelled. "You've done nothing but beat me down my whole life! I got scars because of ya, Merle! Ya givin her scars? Ya beating her in a drunken rage? What's so special about her that ya can care about her, but not me, yer own kin!"
"Things was different then!" Merle was starting to get angry too. "I was stupid back then, little bro. I did things I ain't proud of, I'll admit it. But I've changed. You'd know it too if ya gave me a chance to talk to ya. Just talk to me, little bro. That's all I ask!"
"Talk?" Daryl snorted. "Ya want to talk? Who are ya? The Merle I know would never want to talk."
"Daryl," the grey haired lady with the baby said softly, taking a step towards the seething man.
"Stay outta this Carol," Daryl growled. "This is between me and my no good brother."
"Come on Daryl," Merle's tone turned to pleading. "Let's go somewhere and hash some shit out. Brother to brother. Away from all these people who don't need to hear a damn thing about us."
Hannah looked at Daryl, who was still seething. She willed him with her mind to take Merle's offer. Please Daryl, I don't know what your brother was like before, but he's a good man now. Please listen to him. Merle needs you. Please.
"Alright," Daryl conceded, anger still flashing in his eyes. "We'll have ourselves a little brotherly chat. But don't expect any miracles." He turned his gaze to Hannah, his eyes filled with a burning hatred that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
"The bitch stays here, though," he snarled, before turning on his heels and stalking out of the prison block, a wary but somewhat relieved Merle trailing behind him.
They found Daryl! And he is oh so angry….