There were too many questions and theories occupying his thoughts. He tried to give himself the most logical reason, of how he had no idea what had happened after Emmaly and him had been seperated. Ya couldn' possibly know, he told himself, though it rather sounded like a lame high school excuse. The guilt slowly tore him apart that night, from the inside out, and the fact that the woman was curled up against his side wasn't really helping him either. He wanted to stand up and walk away, though he couldn't get himself to do that. When Emmaly's breathing softened, she confirmed his suspiciouns about her being asleep.
A head peeped up around the corner and Merle rolled his eyes at his baby brother. "Wha' tha fuck's this?! Wha' did ya do ta 'er?!" Daryl hissed quietly as his eyes spat fire. Merle tried to untangle himself out of Emmaly's grip, as he slowly removed the clutched hand on his chest. He tried to get up as quietly as possible and walked outside the cell. Merle didn't want to wake up Emmaly, so he walked outside the cell block, Daryl following him closeby. Once he was outside, as the warm air welcomed him, he turned around to face his younger brother. "I know 'er." he admitted sheepish, as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. Daryl scoffed. "Yer kiddin', right?" was his simple response. Merle couldn't blame his reaction, for he would never allow himself to have a woman as travel companion. "No, I'm not." Merle growled in response, hoping Daryl would take this shit seriously instead of the well-deserved mocking. "She saved my ass while you's all buttfuckin' Officer Friendly." he continued. Daryl scratched the back of his head in awkwardness. "She saved ya from what?" Daryl asked hesitatingly, causing Merle to chuckle. "She saved me tha' day I had ta cutt off m' own hand on tha' rooftop. Would prol'ly be dead if it weren't for 'er."
Daryl gazed at him as if he had just spoken in another language. He slowly shook his head and turned around to walk away in disbelief. The realization had yet to come to the younger Dixon—of hearing this unbelievable story from Merle Dixon, asshole first class.
Even though she had been rescued a day before, the nightmares still wouldn't leave her alone. When she woke up, panting heavily and drops of sweat shimmering on her body, she clutched the empty spot next to her. The familiar scent and warmth had disappeared and Emmaly growled under her breath. Her eyes adjusted to the new and strange environment, and she was disoriented at first. Panic was building up inside of her as her breathing increased rapidly. Suddenly though, a man appeared in the opening of her cell. He looked at her awkwardly, as if he was still trying to decide on whether to enter the cell or not. Emmaly tried to smile and the man nodded in response, as he slowly stepped inside. "Jus' eh, wanted ta see how ya were doin'." he said, trying his best to avoid her gaze. Emmaly grinned. "Well probably 's bad 's how ah look." she chuckled. She realized she had heard the voice before, and she tried her best to puzzle the pieces together. "Ye saved me last night?" she blurted out, immediately regretting the not so subtile move. Her cheeks flushed red because of her social awkwardness. Daryl scoffed and shrugged. "If tha's how ya wanna call it, then I ain't stoppin' ya." he replied simply as he sat down on the chair next to her. Emmaly bit her lower lip, hiding the faint grin that crept on her face. "So, how d'ya know my brotha?" Daryl asked, as shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Emmaly sighed deeply and closed her eyes for a brief moment. "Foond 'im in Atlanta, after he'd cutt of his own hand. Trea'ed his wound 'n all that. Afterwards we decided tae keep travelin' tagether."
The younger Dixon glared at her in suspicioun, as if he didn't trust her words. "Ye think aam lyin'?" she scoffed, as she sat up straight. Daryl jumped up to help her, though Emmaly held up her hand. She lifted herself of the bed, a growl escaping her lips because of the sensational pain of her bruises. Once she stood face-to-face with Daryl, a few inches away from eachother, she looked up at him. The expression in her face had changed to pure frustration at this point. "Listen tae me, Dixon pain-in-the-ass number 2." she hissed. Daryl rolled her eyes and grinned evilly. "Yer goin' act all tough now, lady? I ain't got time fo' this shit." he interrupted as he glared at her. Emmaly poked with her finger on his chest. "Shut up an' let th' lady finish." she warned dangerously, causing Daryl to look at her with widened eyes, slightly surprised and amused at the same time. "Yer brother may have done som' shit things in his life, but I've knoon him lang enough tae know tha' he regrets those things. Jus' give him another chance."
Emmaly looked at Daryl. Her hard glare had softened to a worrisome glance, though Daryl scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Well ''parrently ya don't know him well 'nough, then."
The younger Dixon looked one more time at the slender woman in front of him, his eyes running up and down her bruised figure, before he turned around and left.