DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of The Walking Dead. This is for entertainment purposes only.
A/N: I apologize for all the cliffhangers and stuff. Yeah.
Ok, Time For Plan B.
Daryl got one good kick in knocking the walker back quite a ways. It allowed him a brief moment to try and collect himself as he hugged onto the pole. The cool metal felt relieving against the side of his face. He shut his eyes and tried to take a few deep breaths. The Governor didn't seem like he was coming back—or if he was, he was waiting until he knew Daryl had a guaranteed death sentence of a walker bite. And there was no way he could kill the stupid thing in the situation he was in.
A hand clasped onto his good shoulder making him flinch, his eyes snapping back open. And without even thinking, he threw his left arm out only for his injured hand to collide with a solid force of that of a body.
"Jesus—fuck!" Daryl screamed, bringing his left hand back to his chest and trying to shut the pain out.
"Well, ya didn't have to smack me."
Daryl realized then that it wasn't the walker that had grabbed his shoulder. The walker was on the ground with a hole in its head. It was Merle that was standing by his side now, a slight grin twitching on his face.
"Took ya long enough…" Daryl muttered, hugging back onto the pole. "Asshole."
"In my defense, I had no clue you was even here. But I'm here now ain't I?" Merle reached out and carefully peeled Daryl off of the pole, "Sit down 'fore ya pass out on me. You are still with me, right?"
"Yeah," Daryl reopened his eyes, not even realizing he had shut them again in the first place. He allowed Merle to help lower him back to the ground to sit. He felt miserable, not to mention pathetic for the fact that he couldn't sit by himself with somehow injuring himself further.
Merle bent down in front of him with a stern look on his face while he looked his younger brother over. "Governor did all this, didn't he?"
Daryl only managed a nod. His vision kept going in and out of focus while his brain was pleading for unconsciousness to take over, pleading for sleep now that he was technically out of harm.
"I'm gonna go find the key and get ya outta here. So hang in there, alright?" Merle patted his good shoulder before he stood back up and exited the room.
Daryl rested his head against the pole and sighed. It was a good thing Merle got there when he did because he couldn't take much more. If Merle hadn't of shown up when he did, Daryl probably would have been lunch or dinner—whatever time of day it was—for the walker. He was having a hell of a time trying to keep his eyes open. He felt like he was beginning to drift off, his weight shifting towards the ground before he jolted awake and resituated himself against the pole, cursing all the while.
All he wanted to do was curl up in a damn ball and go to sleep. Was that too much to ask?
When he heard the door reopen and close, he'd be lying if he said that didn't spike his heart rate in the least bit. He glanced down at his right hand while Merle stuck the key in the lock and pulled the cuff off of him. This was the first time he really even paid any attention to that hand as he noticed his wrist was pretty cut up and rubbed raw from where the handcuff was.
"Okay, think you can get back on your feet?" Merle questioned him. It was an honest question and Daryl could tell that he wasn't trying to be a smartass about it, which was a relief. Merle actually seemed concerned, and that only made Daryl that much more worried about their predicament.
And without Daryl's consent, Merle managed to bend down and grab him, pulling him up to his feet with no effort on Daryl's part. The sudden movement sent the room spinning as Daryl quickly clenched his fist onto Merle's shirt to steady himself. He had the urge to throw up but kept it down.
"I'm good. I'm okay," Daryl released Merle's shirt. He attempted to push Merle back so he could have some space but Merle didn't budge. "I got it."
"Like hell you do. You can barely stand on your own," Merle draped Daryl's right arm over his shoulders and grabbed a hold of his left side to keep him steady.
Daryl grudgingly allowed it. He hated for anyone to have to help him, Merle especially. But he really didn't see any other way around it because Merle was right. He was relying heavily on Merle to support him as his head was still a bit fuzzy and the aching pain nagging at him.
"You got a lot of explainin' ta do," Daryl muttered as Merle drug him along through the building. The place barely had any lighting and looked like something straight out of a damn horror flick. Daryl felt like he just made it through a horror flick.
"I ain't the only one," Merle retorted.
Merle led the way through a set of doors that took them outside. The sun was now out and bright as ever as Daryl had to squint his eyes to adjust to the sudden harsh light. It was a breath of fresh air to be out of that room. Daryl racked his brain and tried to come up with an approximate amount of time he had been stuck in Woodbury. It was night when he got there with Maggie and T-Dog.
A gasp brought Daryl's attention back and to a figure not too far off, Merle still leading the way. He took in the familiar piercing teal eyes and blonde hair. If Merle wasn't there supporting him, he'd almost guess he was hallucinating all of it.
"Make yourself useful, Blondie. Keep the Governor busy," Merle barked at her.
Andrea nodded, "I'll do whatever I can." Her eyes locked onto Daryl with a frown tugging at her lips. "I'm so sorry," she whispered with her hand covering her mouth before she took off.
"You even know what you're doing?" Daryl questioned his older brother as he led them over towards a wall much similar to how Daryl and the others had gotten in originally.
"'Course I know," Merle waved his right arm over at the wall. Daryl caught a glimpse of metal shining in the sun light and didn't realize how he hadn't noticed sooner: Merle's right hand had been replaced with a metal contraption housing a bayonet attachment of the sorts. And to think he was dangerous enough without a weapon attached to his now apparent stump…
Before Daryl knew it, they were out of Woodbury and in the woods. The further they got away from that town, the better Daryl began to feel—though not much.
"You're goin' the wrong way. Need to go that way," Daryl slightly nodded his head in the direction that the motel was in.
"You sure your sense of direction wasn't thrown off along with everything else?" Merle snickered. "You barely have your eyes open and I'm supporting more than half your weight right now, little brother."
"Fuck you. I know what I'm talking about. Just 'cause I look like shit don't mean I don't know where I am." Daryl spat back at him, though his words were only half true. He was still a bit confused but he knew the motel was that direction. That was the one thing he couldn't forget.
"Alright, alright. Settle down, Darlina. No need to be bustin' any gaskets."
Luckily there weren't any walkers in immediate sight. But a flash of something caught Daryl's eye as he felt Merle tense, jerking him back and raising his right arm defensively.
Daryl noticed the flash that caught his attention was a katana being thrust towards Merle, a scowl on its owner's face. He then recognized Tyreese behind her accompanying Rick. Disregarding the angry woman, Daryl had never felt more relieved to see some more familiar faces—especially Rick.
Rick stepped in front of the woman and gently pushed the blade of the katana towards the ground.
"Ain't this a pretty sight. Ol' Officer Friendly pick you up along the way?" Merle mocked the woman. There was still a fair amount of anger plastered on her face as she took a step forward at Merle's words.
"What the hell happened here?" Rick demanded, ignoring Merle's remarks. He caught a glimpse of Daryl and the condition he was in before shooting a glare at Merle.
Merle scoffed, "You really think now's a good time for story tellin'?"
Daryl rested his eyes while the three bickered, Tyreese butting in every so often to tell them to calm down. He hadn't realized he started to slightly sway before his knees buckled, Merle no longer holding onto him.
Tyreese lunged forward and caught Daryl before he could face plant himself into the ground. The others fell silent and Merle wrapped his right arm around Daryl's waist to pull him back up and out of Tyreese's grasp.
"Not good," Rick muttered.
"He's fine," Merle shot back at him while he shook Daryl's uninjured shoulder. "Daryl? C'mon now…"
"What happened to him?" Rick stared hard at Merle, expecting nothing less than an answer.
"What do ya think happened to him?" Merle challenged him as he narrowed his eyes.
Daryl reopened his eyes and shifted his weight back onto his feet while the two fell silent again. He blinked a few times before noticing everyone was staring at him. "What?"
"You blacked out on us," Rick explained.
That's when Daryl realized Merle had his arm around his waist to help keep him upright. Daryl slightly nodded in understanding, pushing Merle's arm off of him. Damn—if they hadn't said anything he would have never known he blacked out.
"How many times you get hit in the head? I've never seen you this clumsy before." Merle grabbed a hold of Daryl's right arm to balance him back out again as he started leaning to the left.
"I wasn't keeping tabs, my bad," Daryl rolled his eyes.
"We need to get back to the motor inn. See if Hershel can help," Rick instructed.
"Who the hell is Hershel?" Merle raised an eyebrow.
"He's not coming back with us—"
Rick gently pushed the woman back as he narrowed his eyes and sighed. "He's our best chance at getting Daryl fixed up. And whatever unresolved problem the two of you have," Rick glanced back and forth between the woman and Merle, "you better fix it. And fast."
Merle gritted his teeth but complied with a nod. He threw Daryl's arm around the back of his neck again, "C'mon, baby brother. I ain't gonna carry ya."
Daryl scoffed as Rick took his other side to help support him, "Jackass…"
Another short one, but we're getting closer and closer to the end of this story. I think I'm actually a bit anxious. It'll feel good to say that it's completed when the time comes.