Disclaimer - nothing is mine, but the lacklustre prose!
Author Note: Thank you for the last lot of reviews – for the guest ones that I couldn't thank with a message, I'm glad you enjoyed. I'm really glad there were people that saw this pop up after almost two years and even remembered it.
I promised a quicker update time, I hope this will do. Enjoy.
Chapter Fourteen
Abraham wouldn't class himself as an exceptionally impatient man, but he had spent almost the entirety of his day in two separate clearings watching people talking, and now he was just about fed up. He was tired, he was hungry, there was blood in his mustache where a leader of a group of cannibals, that's right cannibals, had punched him square in the nose and he just wanted to get Eugene back on the road to DC. The sooner he could get his shit together to get this mission back on track the sooner he knew he would feel more focused and in control. He hadn't felt in control since they'd happened upon Glenn and Tara and it was not a welcome feeling to him.
"Not to say this here isn't a lovely reunion," Abraham boomed, aiming his words at Glenn, the unofficial liaison between the two groups, "although I must admit I am pretty confused as to where a goddamn baby has come from, but I think it is time me and my comrades bid goodbye to you and your band of fucked up merry men and move along."
Glenn stared at the man for a moment, his head cocked to one side, his mouth hanging slightly open. It always seemed to take him a moment to really take in the words the military man spoke, as if he just could not believe anyone could have the confidence, the full-out balls, to speak to people the way Abraham did.
"You're right. Sort of." Glenn said eventually, to the surprise everyone, as Tyreese behind him rammed the butt of his rifle into the head of a walker that had staggered into the clearing. He looked to Maggie and shrugged slightly, trying not to move his hands too much. "You have to agree. We can't just stay here."
Sasha made a quick movement behind them, bending to grab Carol's discarded rifle and, almost perfectly replicating Tyreese's actions mere seconds earlier, disposed of another walker that had come across their little group.
"There are walkers in the area," Glenn sighed as he spoke, weariness evident in his voice. "They would have been drawn to all the noise in Terminus. It won't talk long until there are more here."
"We can't move him too much," Bob was back at Daryl's side now, having taken the moment to stretch his aching muscles but not being able to leave the ailing man for too long. "We're barely controlling the bleeding as it is, but we can't just stay like this, here. We need somewhere to settle so I can actually deal with his wounds."
"Carol and I, we found a shack not far from here just before we hit Terminus." Tyreese stepped forward, swinging the gun behind his back. "We hid the last of our supplies there. It's maybe half a mile East. Set back from the main road. We could go there?"
Bob looked down at his patient, looking over at the pale skin, the beads of sweat peppering his face, the quickened heartbeat visible in the hollow notch between Daryl's neck and prominent collarbone. It was hard to take in the sight of the man and know that even though he wasn't dead, even though he hadn't completely bled out on them right there in Terminus, that he was in bad shape and there was little Bob himself could do as a medical man. Flashes of memory of bloody and broken victims of combat situations he had treated in the past suddenly hit him along with nausea and an urge to find a bottle of liquor hitting him with equal clout and he had to breathe in deeply to calm his rolling stomach.
"We need to get him there," Bob said, relieved to see the rest of the group agreeing.
"I am real happy you all seem to have found your friends," Abe stepped in between Tyreese and the group on the floor, "but I do not think there is any need for me, Eugene or Rosita to stick around here any longer, or in to that nice little shack, and watch a man die."
"Abe, we should all make our way to DC togeth…" Glenn began to protest but was immediately cut off.
"Listen Glenn, I am grateful that Rick did not throw one of us to the slaughter when he had the chance back there. I am smart enough to realise that was a far simpler option for him than watching your friend there get tortured. I am also grateful that your gun-toting baby carriers here helped to get us out of there alive, but let's not forget why we all got in this mess in the first place." Eugene squirmed under the glaring gaze Abraham shot his way. "We have a mission. A very important mission. That mission has always and will always be my main objective I think it is now time for us to go our separate ways. If any of you wish to join us on said mission you are welcome to."
Glenn's eye's flared in a panic, as Abraham turned to his two companions, looking first to Tara and then to Maggie for advice but finding none forthcoming. It was only on watching Bob place his fingers on Daryl's neck to feel for a pulse the Glenn's words stilled Abraham's movements.
"Bob….if….if…..how long…..if…how long until he….," Glenn's Adam's apple bobbed nervously as he tried to force the word he was desperate not to have to say out loud, the word Abraham had had no problem saying so harshly, but eventually opted for a different tact. "How long until we can start moving towards DC?"
The medic took a moment to consider his words, particularly not wanting to give anyone any false expectations of Daryl's chances of survival but not wanting to dash the remainder of hope they had. He needed these people to keep the hunter alive, he knew their efforts would be integral to keeping him alive and the last thing he needed to do would be deflate them all before they had really begun the hard work of the endeavour.
"There are two worse case scenarios to answer what you are asking me," he started, "if he… makes it… recovery would be slow, a couple of weeks at least before he'd be strong enough for us to even consider making a proper go at moving on. Even then it will be tough going."
"Two weeks." Glenn looked up at Abraham, then around to Rosita and Eugene with a considering downturn of his lips, "that's enough time for us all to take it in turns to go on runs. Go further out, gather supplies for the journey North, right? We could even manage to salvage a couple of vehicles in that time."
"And the other scenario?" Abraham cut in with his deep rumbling tone. "The likely scenario in this situation if we're all really wearing our big boy pants. Bearing in mind we have no medical supplies right now and that includes spare blood or transfusion kits. How long does he take to die?"
"Abe, com' on." Rosita didn't need to roll her eyes when talking to Abe to convey a warning sometimes, the attitude dripped from her words alone. "These people obviously care for this guy. Don't be a dick on purpose."
"Them caring does not change the fact that more of his blood was left on the floor back there than was poured on Carrie's head at the school prom. I've seen blood loss in combat situations, and I think good ol' Doc here is familiar with it too." A silent conveyance of affirmation between the two was shared, a confirmation that they both understood that each had seen the horrors of war previous to the undead battleground they had to live through now. "So tell me, Dr Bob, how long?"
Bob hesitated again for a moment, looking quickly around the group before answering into the awaiting silence.
"As bad as it looked back there they can't have directly hit an artery in either arm otherwise he would have been dead before we even got him out here. He's lost a lot of blood, a dangerous amount of blood, but…"
"Enough with the horsecrap!" Abraham's patience had almost run out, he was able to keep his voice calm but was slowing losing his composure, the bulging vein on the side of his neck the tell-tale sign of his growing anger. "Was that, or was that not enough blood loss to kill a man if you cannot replace it?"
"Possibly." Bob refused to meet the eyes of anyone. He swallowed audibly. "I really don't know."
"If our very own sacrificial lamb over here is going to die how long will it take." Abe's fist's clenched by his hips, his teeth pinching down on his lower lip as her waited for the answer.
"Watch it." The warning from Michonne was ignored, the ginger man not aware the woman once again went to reach for the katana she forgot wasn't on her back anymore. Bob noticed the woman move but didn't react, only bit the inside of his cheek and answered as clearly as he could.
"Anything from minutes to hours to days."
Abraham seemed to gain energy from the response and the silence the descended from the rest of the group. It wasn't a usual silence but one where you could almost feel the absence of noise, like the wind and air had been physically sucked from everybody else. His shoulders drew wider apart and he seemed to rise an inch higher in height, his head rolling back on his neck in a clockwise circle stretching out the tight knots in his neck.
"So, we do the same in that time." Glenn wasn't about to give up, and the edge of confidence in his voice took Abraham by surprise. "We can still gear up ready for the trip North, right? We just do it quicker. We're a strong group Abraham. You saw what Carol and Tyreese did on their own in Terminus, think of what we could do all together." Glenn was on a roll. His voice was pitching the way it did when he gathered steam in a speech, his ever-emotive eyes trying but failing to seek out Abraham's. "We've all been through a lot today. We just need to re-group at this shack and then move we can move on. Maybe we can move on together. Stronger. Please."
"I do believe Glenn is right." All heads whipped round to the direction of a new voice in the conversation, Eugene's vague expression staring back. "I have said before on numerous occasions that numbers are paramount to our mission being a success and that remains true. We need all the help we can get and I for one will be going to this shack with Glenn and his group."
"They're right." Rosita, with her hip cocked to one side, one hand resting lazily on top, stood just behind Eugene, literally backing him up. "If we go, just us three, how far you think we gonna get?"
Abraham's chest rose deeply as he took a deep breath in, his cheek flushing quickly and his jaw muscles twitching in raging annoyance. He fixed his glare straight at Rosita, hoping to get a rise her at least a little but she never flinched.
"You know we need these people to get to DC." Rosita's tongue clicked off the end of her teeth, almost as a taunt in itself. She knew how to piss Abe off, knew how to work him up but as far as she cared he deserved it after how he had spoken to the people who had put their arses on the line for them.
"Fine." Abraham threw a sideways look laced with annoyance towards the group huddled around the prone body on the floor and then drew his eyes back to Rosita, daring her answer back to his next comment. "It'll only be a for a couple of days anyway. Just a lousy couple of days for him to die, then we'll be moving on."
"-ck you."
The tightly packed in group with their hands still on the bleeding man jumped slightly, their eyes instantly drawn down to Daryl below them as they realised, each with noticeable relief, that he wasn't quite as unconscious as they all believed and, just maybe, he was able to take in more of his surroundings than they realised. It wasn't much of a victory, it didn't mean much in the grand scheme, but it was still something. His eyelids only fluttered slightly as he spoke, his eyeballs obviously spinning wildly underneath trying to open but failing to make it through the fog, and his voice was weak, barely audible and the words themselves mumbled, slurred, but it was the closest reminder that the man wasn't dead. They weren't to count him out yet.
"Actually, Abraham." Maggie smiled, a sad but confident smile, the fingers of her spare hand comfortingly teasing Daryl's sweat-damp hair. She drew herself up taller on her knees, puffing out her chest proudly and drawing up her chin, looking directly into Abe's eyes indignity. "You don't know him like we do."
Abe held the flaring green eyes for a second but ignored the words, instead he walked over to Tyreese with a smirk playing on his lips and bent to the larger man's feet, grabbing the bags discarded there.
"Looks like you're showing us to our new love shack, big man."
The smirk was swiftly wiped off his face as Rick's fist connected with Abraham's already bloodied nose and the red-headed man hit the floor.
Until next time!