This was the third house they'd broken into today. The others would have been impossible to secure, but they did pick up a few canned goods at each place. Now the survivors stood on the front porch of a beautiful white farm house on the edge of a town.
"I've got that shed over there," T said, nodding. "I'll check it out and load whatever I find we can use in the pick up."
Rick nodded. "I'll do the same in the barn. Should be quick and painless."
Liz double checked that the safety was off on her rifle and nodded toward Glenn and Daryl. "While ya'll sweep the first floor, I'll head upstairs with Maggie."
"No," Glenn and Daryl snapped at the same time. Maggie rolled her eyes and Liz glared at the men.
"Who else is gonna do it?" Maggie asked. "Lori? Carl? I don't think so. We're moving in now. We're losing light. We're tired of sitting behind and waiting for you to sweep the whole house. We're doing it."
"We've been on the run for a week. We get how it's done," Liz added.
"We ain't going to run around in the dark with everyone so exhausted, especially Lori," Maggie continued as the men tried to shut them out. She loaded her pistol and headed for the door. "Ready?"
Glenn and Daryl exchanged glances and nodded at each other reluctantly.
"These stubborn southern women," Glenn groaned. "Be safe," he said, touching Maggie's shoulder before Daryl kicked in the door and grumbled, "Let's go."
As the men swept through the kitchen and sitting rooms, Maggie and Liz crept up the staircase.
"We've got this, girl," Maggie whispered. "Clear it, get everyone in, and bust into that bottle of wine Carl found last house."
They came upon a door at the top of the stairs and paused. There was a gnawing sound coming from inside. Walkers. Liz nodded at Maggie, who nodded back and stepped in front of the door and prepared to shoot whatever was inside. Before Liz had a chance to pull the door open, it was flung wide and collided with her, sending her tumbling noisily down the stairs.
Shit, Liz thought was she tried to grasp for the railing as she fell. Everything seemed like it was in slow motion. Gunshots rang out from above as Maggie took down the walkers charging her. Commotion from downstairs indicated that the rest of the group was coming to help out, if needed. Liz frantically tried to make sense of where her own rifle was in relation to her body. Halfway down the stairs, she felt her forehead meet a something hard and she knew no more.
"Hey."
The front door swung open and snapped shut. Liz looked up from the vegetables she was chopping. "Hey!" She flipped her hair out of her eyes. "How'd you bowl?" She took a long sip of wine and sighed happily. She loved Saturdays at home. She loved her yellow kitchen. She loved when Daryl got home.
Daryl strode toward the kitchen with a grin on his face. "Killed everyone but Merle. Just barely beat him." He dropped his bag. "Smells great. You look great." He kissed her neck just under her ear. "You're a sight for sore eyes after spending the afternoon with my brother's ugly ass crew." He gave her ass a squeeze before turning away.
Goosebumps rose on her arms and she set her knife down as Daryl grabbed a beer from the fridge. "You're asking for it," Liz warned.
"Am I?" Daryl sat his beer can down, grabbed her hips from behind and kissed her neck again. "You leave for tour in a week. I'd better ask for it every day until then, huh?" The words came out as a mumble against her skin, sending shivers down to her heels.Liz squealed as he spun her round, scooped her up and sat her on the counter effortlessly. "Daryl! You'll make me burn dinner," she half-heartedly protested.
"Then I'll take you out." Daryl grinned and leaned in so that his lips brushed against hers. "Wake up."
"I'll burn dinner," she repeated.
"Dinner?" Daryl looked up at Hershel. "She hallucinating?"
Hershel squinted. "Liz? Can you hear us? Open your eyes if you can hear us."
"They are open." Liz reached out to correct a wild hair standing up behind Daryl's ear. "What's wrong?"
Daryl caught her hand as she held it out in front of her, pawing at something that wasn't there. "You won't wake up, that's what's wrong." He'd gotten to Liz a moment too late; he'd been unable to slow her fall as she bounced down the stairs. Once the house was clear, he and Rick had carried her upstairs to the master bedroom and Daryl had been watching and worrying over her ever since.
Liz's eyes batted open. She squinted into the light, then immediately drew back her hand to shield her face. "What's happening?" She knew Daryl was there by the smell of denim and leather.
"You got knocked down the stairs, Liz. You've got a concussion, maybe more," Hershel's voice came.
Someone moved her hands back from her face and held them down. Something pried open her eye and suddenly, a bright light flashed back and forth before the same happened to the other eye. Then, the light was gone. "I wasn't near the stairs. We were in my kitchen. When did Hershel get here? Is he hungry?" Liz asked, still quite groggy.
"You ain't at your house," Daryl said, worry settling in his voice. Glancing at Hershel again, he asked, "Amnesia?"
Before he could answer, Liz sat up and swayed. The men pushed her back down, and she closed her eyes again. She could tell she was on a bed, but beyond that, she couldn't grasp what was happening. Sleep was drifting over her, and she happily sighed and nestled into the mattress beneath her.
"Open your eyes, girl," Daryl groaned. Liz's eyes fluttered open for a moment, then shut again.
"Liz?" Hershel said, touching her shoulder.
When she didn't open her eyes, Daryl bent down next to her ear and hissed, "Liz."
Liz opened her eyes. "Hmm?"
"You need to keep her awake. She seems to respond best to you," Hershel said, sitting back. "Only time will tell if there's a brain bleed. If that's the case, there's not much we can do." He stood and sighed, giving Daryl a sad look. "I'm going to rest a while. Lori, Carol, Maggie, Beth, they'll all keep her awake and talking when you need a break."
"Yup," Daryl mumbled as the old veterinarian walked from the room. As soon as Hershel had gone, Daryl slid Liz over and sat down on the mattress beside her. "You heard the doc, didn't you? Get up. Gotta stay awake."
Liz took a deep breath and kept her eyes closed. She was exhausted and dancing on the edge of sleep. Reality and dreams were mixing together and she couldn't tell which was which. She reached out for her wine glass and took another drink; raspberry zinfandel was her jam.
"It's either stay awake or die, so stay awake." Daryl pulled the blanket back from Liz's body and pinched her thigh through a hole in her jeans.
"Ow!" Liz's eyes popped open. "Geeze." She gingerly massaged the skin. "That'll leave a bruise."
"Oh, well." Daryl sighed and brushed Liz's hair back from her forehead. A solid knot was pressing outward and turning purple already. "Got walloped there pretty good, huh?" When Liz didn't reply, he poked at the spot on her thigh again.
"Damn it, Daryl." Liz groaned and opened her eyes a sliver. "Where are we?"
"Some house somewhere. You ain't been at your house for a year. You know who I am?" Daryl asked, leaning over her again. Please say yes, he thought desperately. As her amber eyes studied his face, he waited for an answer with bated breath.
"Of course I do, but you'll be no one important if you keep pinching me." A dull ache in her forehead started buzzing. "I have a headache. Did I drink that whole bottle of wine?"
Daryl exhaled in frustration. "There ain't no wine! We've been on the run. Remember?"
"The farm!" Liz exclaimed as a flash of reality came back to her. "Oh," she said, frowning as more memories knitted themselves together. "We don't have anywhere to live." She rubbed her head and winced when she found the bump. "At least tell me something cool happened to earn me this. Is everyone else okay? Where is everyone? Maggie?"
"They're fine. They're downstairs," Daryl replied. "Ya got knocked down the stairs. Hit your head pretty hard." He looked into her eyes again. The pools of amber blinked at him in response. "You were acting spooky for a while there. Didn't know if you could even see us. Seem better now."
Liz moved her head gingerly as the throbbing began and the dull ache turned into a full blown pain. "Do we need to move? Is the house secure?"
"It's secure as any. We can stay here a few days, maybe more."
"Hey," a soft voice from the door came. "Is she okay? Oh, you're awake!" Beth entered the room and stood at the bedside. "Daddy was real worried for a little while."
Liz offered a smile as Beth looked her over. "I'm okay," she groaned. "Just have a killer headache. A little foggy, that's all." Seeing the hesitation on her face, Liz added, "I remember you, Beth."
Beth nodded and a look of relief crossed her face. "Everyone's eating, Daryl, if you want to go down. I can sit with her." She pulled up a chair.
Daryl waved his hand. "Naw."
"Go eat," Liz urged, him, trying to shove him off the bed with one hand.
"I'll eat later," he replied. "Someone's got to be here when you fall asleep, and Beth ain' mean enough to pinch you."
A wave of fatigue sweeping over her, Liz fought to keep her eyes open. "Mm, this little girl's pretty mean."
Beth giggled. "Well, I'll go eat, but then I'll come up and you can go." She paused when she reached the door. "Daryl- actually, let me ask you something in the hall."
Daryl glanced down at Liz. "You'd better be awake when I get back." He ignored her eye roll as he stepped into the hallway. "Yeah?" he looked at Beth expectantly.
"Daddy says she can't stay awake, and that's bad." She glanced into the room and bit her lip. "Make sure she doesn't fall asleep. She might not wake up. It's really important. Okay? Don't let her sleep. I don't want her to die." Her lip trembled as she spoke. "We lost too many already. Not Liz. Not like this."
Exactly, Daryl thought. Instead of saying so, he scowled at Beth and silently stormed back into the room and plopped down on the bed forcefully. "'m back."
"I'm up," Liz murmured. "I heard that. Ya'll think I'm dying. Survive the end of the world just to fall down the stairs and die." She laughed, then winced when her head pounded.
Daryl shook his head. He stretched his legs out on the bed and tucked his hands behind his head. "Naw, you ain't gonna die. We have a deal."
Liz couldn't recall what had happened that day, let alone any deals she'd made. "Deal?"
"I said I ain' gon put you down. If you die, I'm gon' have to. So don't." Daryl jostled around to get comfortable. "So I gotta keep you awake. Tell me your life story."
"Where do I start?" Liz replied softly, trying to soothe the pounding in her head. "It'll take forever."
Daryl nodded. "Exactly. Start talking."
*****
Glenn and Maggie were on guard duty, so there was no reason he couldn't sleep. Liz had made it through the vital first hours after her fall and during his third check-in, Hershel had been convinced there was no bleeding on her brain. She was sleeping now, curled on her side in the master suite bed, a small puddle of drool under her open mouth. When when she had rolled onto her side away from him, Daryl had gotten up and sat in the chair on the side of the bed to make sure he could see that she was breathing. Her memory was slightly spotty, and when she'd asked him where Shane was, he'd grown more concerned.
Daryl rubbed his eyes and looked at a clock on the wall that was miraculously still running on batteries. 3AM. Hershel had said to wake Liz up every hour or so, if he could, just to make sure she wasn't unconscious. Liz's hair was braided along the top of her head, but by now, the braids were fuzzy and falling out. Her face, like everyone's, had grown lean over the winter. Her earrings and nose ring sparkled in the dark; tiny reminders of her previous life. Daryl tried to imagine what the Arabic tattoo on the back of her neck meant, and made a mental note to ask her.
Somewhat reluctantly, he strode back to his side of the bed and got in, taking care to rouse her gently. "Hey," he whispered. "Liz. Hey."
Liz rolled over onto her back and grumbled.
Daryl shook her shoulder lightly. "C'mon. You know the drill," he said quietly. "Hershel's orders."
"Not dead," she mumbled, rolling toward him and nestling into his pillow. "Sleep."
Daryl moved to get out of bed and back in the chair so she could rest, but she opened an eye. "Where you goin'?" she asked.
"You need to sleep-"
Liz grabbed his hand. "I have been. You should sleep. Stay." Her voice was a mix between a whine and a growl.
Daryl set to refuse her one more time, but Liz pulled his arm over her waist and tucked herself under his chin. She fell back asleep quickly and Daryl didn't have the heart to disturb her. Instead, he lie perfectly still and made sure to listen for her breathing long after she drifted off.
****
A walker's groaning jarred Liz from sleep. She held her breath and listened to where the sound was coming from. How did it get in? How did it sneak past everyone sleeping downstairs?
After a moment the growl rumbled through the room again. Liz all but laughed aloud at herself. Walkers hadn't gotten into the house; Daryl was in bed next to her snoring with the ferocity of a chainsaw. He was lying flat on his back, but his arm and leg were crossed over Liz's. She smiled and appreciated the fact that since staying in his tent at the farm, even after their connection on the highway, this was the closest they had been. She scooted closer to him, but he awoke with a start.
"Shit,"he whispered to himself before freeing his arm and touching Liz's waist. "Liz," he grumbled. He looked out the window. Day was breaking. "Been asleep too long, hey! Get up."
"I'm awake, I'm fine," Liz replied. "I feel good. Headache is going away. If I had bleeding from the brain, I'd be dead by now. Go back to sleep."
Daryl stretched his arms and squeezed his eyes shut. To keep him from getting out of bed, Liz hooked one of his legs with hers. As she had become more aware of what was going on around her and the daze wore off through the night, she became both increasingly annoyed and endeared at Daryl's vigilance in watching over her.
"What're you doing?" Daryl yawned as she held onto his wrist.
"Getting comfy," Liz said innocently. "Night."
*****
When Maggie popped her head in to check on Liz at breakfast time, she beamed and quickly shut the door behind her. Liz was in Daryl's arms, sleeping with her head against his bare chest. He rested his head against hers and snored softly; both of them finally asleep and completely at ease.
