"Daryl?"
The voice sounded so far away.
"Daryl? Are you awake?"
Fuck, no he wasn't awake and he didn't want to wake up. He silently hoped the voice would shut up and go away.
"Daryl?!" Someone grabbed his shoulder and was shaking it. Dammit all to hell.
He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to confront his tormentor. Carol quickly released his shoulder and smiled down at him. "Oh, good, you're awake."
Daryl yawned and gave Carol an icy glare. "Yeah, I tend to wake up when someone's yellin' my name an' shakin' me. What the hell do you want?"
"Still grumpy, I see. I brought you some cookies and a glass of milk."
Daryl groaned and sat up. He rubbed his eyes and continued to glare at Carol, narrowing his eyes. "You woke me from a sound sleep to tell me you brung me cookies?"
Carol shrugged. "Yes, I guess so."
"What kind of cookies?" he asked.
"Chocolate chip." She offered him a small plate with four cookies on it and pointed to the glass of milk on his bedside table. "We've all missed you." she said.
Daryl snorted. "Missed me? Bullshit, an I din't go nowhere."
"You left the farm and we've hardly been able to see you since we got here. We missed your presence among us. You know, seeing you around, talking to you, ..."
Daryl shoved a cookie into his mouth as the bullshit started to pile up. The cookie was pretty good.
Carol continued, "hearing you recite poetry.."
Daryl reached for the milk and drank half of it to wash down the cookie.
"Recite poetry?" he asked cautiously.
Carol raised her eyebrows and grinned. "Andrea was quite impressed."
Daryl took a bite out of cookie #2. "Girl's got a big mouth." he grumbled with his mouth full.
"She didn't tell me. I overheard her talking to Maggie. Thy both sounded giddy. If I didn't know better, I'd say they both were smitten."
Daryl sighed. "You're readin' into things. No one's 'smittin' with anyone, 'specially not me. The poem i said ain't very nice, neither." The rest of cookie #2 disappeared.
Carol leaned forward and said, "Daryl, the thought of poetry coming out of your mouth is mind-boggling to me."
Daryl smirked. Wasn't this just typical. "What, ya'll think I'm fuckin' backwoods 'Deliverance' stock n' don't know shit 'bout literature an' stuff? You think the only poetry I'd know would start with 'there once was a man from Nantucket'?" He knew that the others all thought he was stupid, but to have Carol come right out and express that she did, too, was a bit disappointing.
Carol shook her head, "No, no, no...not at all! That isn't what I meant!"
Daryl waved a hand at her as if to dismiss her protesting. "S' okay. I ain't as offended as I am amused. Y'all know I don' give a flyin' fuck what y'all think a me." He tossed cookie #3 into his mouth. "Did you make these?" he said with his mouth full. "They're good."
"I wish I could take the credit, but Maggie made them." Carol sat back in the chair. "And all I meant was that that it must have been lovely to hear you, your voice, reciting something poetic. I didn't mean it to be insulting or mocking in any way."
Daryl was silent and resisted the urge to say "bullshit".
The silence made Carol uncomfortable. She cleared her throat and pointed to Daryl's face. "That's quite the black eye you've got there. Funny thing, you know, Glenn has one, too." Daryl was watching her now with those ice blue eyes like a cat would watch a mouse it was getting ready to pounce on. It made Carol even more uncomfortable, but she continued nonetheless. "Rumor has it that Glenn thought you were putting the moves on Maggie and you two fought. Is that how it happened?"
Daryl broke from his stare to pop the last cookie in his mouth and then the cat to mouse stare was back. "Don't know what you're talkin' 'bout an' don't wanna know. World 'd be a better place if people minded their own damn business, 'stead a gossipin' n' spreadin' stories."
Carol's cheeks got a little red but Daryl didn't care. He hated being the topic of conversation and the thought of everyone sitting around and speculating about his little one for one with Glenn bothered him.
They were both quiet for a moment and then Carol said, "I still think we need to talk about .."
"Am I fuckin' invisible? Does no one hear a thing I say? No. No, no and no. I don't wanna hear 'nother word. I feel bad 'nuff 'bout it as it is. You know that. I asked you not to bring it up, I aint ready to discuss it. Shit, I even said 'please'." He placed the empty plate on the bedside table next to the empty glass and before Carol could reply he said, "Thanks for stoppin' in."
Carol looked surprised. Had Daryl just dismissed her?
"Daryl," she said. "I don't..."
Daryl interrupted her. "Maybe I'm bein' rude an' all, but I'm tired an' I just don't feel up to havin' visitors an' I sure as shit don' feel like arguin' with anyone. I'm sure you got better things to do than to sit with my dumb ass as well."
Carol didn't mean to, but the 'humph" was out of her mouth before she could stop it and she gave Daryl a look like one would give an ungrateful child. She stood up without a word and turned to leave.
"An Carol, thanks for the cookies." Daryl sighed once she'd left the room. Now he'd managed to get Carol, one of his staunchest supporters, pissed off. It was a mistake to invite all these people to move in. Things would be so much easier if he was by himself. Back when he and Merle were together, just the two of them, things had been just fine.
He couldn't stay here, but Daryl knew he couldn't leave just yet. He had to heal first and his strength back. He could stand to gain a bit of weight, too. If the group didn't drive him completely nuts, he would stay through to spring and then be on his way. He really liked this house and his room and the feeling of security it gave him, but he couldn't stay; not with all these people poking and prodding into his business under the guise of caring for him.
He reached down between the nightstand and the bed and brought up his crossbow. He set it across his lap and ran his fingers along the stock and up the railing. As much as he loved the Blackhawks, this would always be his favorite weapon. He couldn't wait until he could get outside and start using it again.
There was another knock on the door casing Daryl jumped. Dale walked in. "I thought you might like some company... "
Daryl sighed.
Daryl sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. In the last hour and a half he'd been 'visited' by Andrea, Carol and Dale and he was sick of visitors and people in general. He wanted to go to his own room but he had told Hershel he'd stay where he was until his next dressing change was done. The pain had been increasing steadily for the last half hour and he fumbled in the nightstand drawer until he found what he was looking for. He took another two Tylenol tablets out of the bottle he'd just retrieved and after making sure that they were, in fact, Tylenol tablets, he washed them down with bottled water.
He wanted to be alone now and wasn't feeling up to any more small talk with anyone. It wasn't that he was antisocial and didn't like people in general...okay, he was antisocial and he didn't like people in general. That was just how he was. Everyone he'd ever cared about when he was growing up and into young adulthood had ended up hurting or abandoning him or both. He had come to the conclusion that other people just weren't worth his time and effort and had hardened his mind and his heart. It was safer that way.
Daryl stood up and held on to the bed with his left hand. It took him a few seconds to steady himself, then he quietly walked to the door of the room and peeked into the war room. No one was there. He sauntered through the war room as quietly as he could and then stopped and listened for any activity coming from the hallway. Everything was quiet. He slowly eased himself out into the hallway as he glanced up and down the hall nervously. The coast appeared to be clear, so he flattened himself against the hallway wall and using it to help support himself, he moved along it, across the door opening to the game room and down to his second favorite room in the house. He stopped in front of it and put his ear to the door. Hearing no noise coming from behind the door, he opened it and slipped inside, closing it behind him.
No one was in the room. No one human, anyway. Daryl looked around the room at the collection of animals and fish and hunting and fishing paraphernalia. This room was just amazing. Wait. One of the bobcats was missing. The skunk was, too. What the hell? Daryl smirked. Maybe Carl had pilfered them for his room. He couldn't really blame the kid, but dammit, those things belonged in this room. Or in his own bedroom, he decided. He grabbed a red and brown Aztec print wool throw blanket that covered the back of one of the couches. He wished he'd worn slippers or socks because his feet were freezing. Daryl lowered himself into a big leather recliner and eased the chair back, extending the footrest and arranged his legs on it. The chair smelled of leather and cigars and he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. It was like perfume to him. Such comforting scents. Daryl spread the blanket out over him and wrapped it around his legs, making sure his feet were covered.
"You all nice and comfy now, Darleena? Maybe you'd like me to get you a pillow? Rub your feet? Pat ya on the head an' tell you what a good boy you are?" Imaginary Merle sounded disgusted. "You're gettin' soft. Layin' aroun' in this big ol' house doin' nothin', ya lazy piece a shit."
"Fuck's sake, I got fuckin' hurt, dammit! You think I like bein' out a the game like this?" Daryl grumbled. After being lost in thought for a moment, he said, "Wish I knew if you was dead or alive."
"Would it matter? Ain't like you been lookin' for your big brother now, is it? You jes' don' care about ol' Merle like I care for you."
"You never cared for me, and you coulda.."
"You know I do." Interrupted Imaginary Merle. "Saved your ass plenty a times. You'd been dead years ago weren't for me."
Daryl closed his eyes. Merle had saved his ass on a few of occasions, but truth be told, Merle had been responsible in part for Daryl being in all but one of those life threatening situations to begin with.
Imaginary Merle continued to rant in Daryl's head. "I'm the only one that'll ever care for you, the only one. Doncha forget that baby brother."
That was bullshit. Hershel had been taking care of him. Maggie had been taking care of him. He would've been dead a couple times over if it hadn't been for the two Greenes and he knew it.
Daryl smiled to himself. Fuckin' Maggie and her constantly running sarcastic mouth and her grabby, cookie making hands. He hadn't realized it until just then, but she probably had taken care of him more than anyone else ever had. She had saved his life, she'd worried about him, she'd looked out for him,(he hadn't thought to remove the bullets from his Blackhawks and Shane would have blown his head off if they'd been loaded) she'd talked to him and listened to him. She'd washed him up when he was covered with blood and he couldn't do it himself and she'd slept next to him, solely to assure herself that he was okay. She really cared about him. She'd been there with pain meds when he needed them and softly spoken reassuring words. Of course, she'd teased the hell out of him, too.
He loved her and he hated her for what she'd done for him.
Daryl hated feeling weak, he hated needing to be looked after and taken care of by others. He hated not being completely self reliant. He felt like less of a man and a failure. He'd failed to properly defend himself from Shane's attacks and he was now suffering the consequences as were the people wasting their time looking after him.
He was sure that Hershel resented him. It was a major inconvenience, he was sure, for Hershel to make the trip from the farm out to the lake house to check on his stupid ass.
Maggie was mad at him now and he was sure she resented having to change that damned dressing. He had insulted her and treated her like shit in exchange for all she had done for him. Dammit, though, she was acting like they were friends or something and he had to put a stop to that. Yes, he had actually encouraged her, too, by being friendly and talking with her about things he didn't generally speak of. He was sure that she must have found his sudden hostility towards her confusing. He was such a dick, but it was better for everyone that way. If you weren't emotionally involved, you didn't get hurt. It was just that simple.
Daryl glanced around the room. The deer heads and the other animals gazed at him with their shiny glass eyes. He closed his eyes tightly and grit his teeth as a sharp pain where his dressing was sliced through him. He pushed it down, he could handle this, he was a Dixon, dammit. The pain subsided and he sighed. He shifted in the recliner and it hit him again, harder this time and he gasped involuntarily. Shit, that hurt. The pain intensified and got worse and worse until he thought he wouldn't be able to stand it any longer. No, the Tylenol wasn't going to cut it. Fuck it, he deserved this. He'd use it as a reminder not to fuck up next time. It would be his penance for treating Maggie like shit, for not keeping his guard up with Shane, for being a burden and not listening to Hershel. Maybe it would teach him a lesson. He curled up on his right side and held his wounded area with both hands. He felt weak and pathetic and it hurt so bad. Was his pain threshold that low now? Surely he could ride this out, push it down further. He concentrated on his breathing and tried to ignore the pain. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.
"Whats the breathin' shit here 'bout? You havin' a baby, Darleena?"
Daryl giggled and gasped as the pain caught him off guard. "Shudup, Merle, I'm concentratin.'"
"You're constipated? You never did eat 'nuff vegetables."
Daryl giggled again, then gasped. "Concentratin' ya fucktard, this hurts somethin' fierce." Fuckin' Imaginary Merle was going to be the death of him.
"I know you can handle it baby brother. You know you've had worse. Just grit your teeth and bear it." Encouraged Imaginary Merle.
Daryl did. He stuck the knuckle of his first finger into his mouth and bit down on it, not enough to draw blood, but enough to hurt. It drew some of his attention off the pain in his side.
"'Course, you could rub them two brain cells you got left together an' use 'em. Take somethin' to make the pain go 'way, ya fuckin'dummy."
There was a knock on the door. Daryl didn't say anything and tried to quiet his breathing. "Dixon, are you in there?" Maggie's voice called through the door. Daryl rolled his eyes and grimaced as the pain continued to kick at him.
"Daryl?"
He still didn't answer. He just wanted to be left alone. Why couldn't anyone get that through their thick head? He heard the door open and he heard her footsteps as she walked across the hardwood floor towards where he lay curled up in the recliner, covered with the wool blanket and with his back to her. "Daryl?" She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder and he jumped. He hadn't expected that. Maggie jumped back and a surprised little shriek left her mouth. She stepped closer to him and put her hand on his shoulder again. "Damn, you scared me. I thought you were sleeping." She felt his body slightly trembling beneath her hand and she frowned. "It's bad, isn't it?"
He didn't answer her, so she came around to the other side of the chair so she could see his face. His eyes were closed and his teeth were clenched and he had started to sweat. She knelt down so she was face to face with him. "Hey, Tiger," she said softly, "I know you're mad at me about something and I'm pretty pissed off at you, too, but there is no reason for you to suffer like this. I can give you something that will make it better."
Daryl wouldn't open his eyes. He did not want to look at her or at anything for that matter. "M' fine," he said through clenched teeth. "Jes' go 'way. Leave me alone."
Maggie sighed and he heard her stand and then he heard her footsteps as she left the room and closed the door.
Well, that was easier than he thought it would be. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and he could feel the back of his neck and his chest getting wet with sweat. He tossed the wool blanket off and wrapped his arms around himself, carefully avoiding the area that was causing all the trouble. Why did it hurt so damned much? Hershel said it was healing. It still itched, but it hurt more than it itched now. Daryl thought it would be easier to handle the pain than the itching, but now he wondered if he had been wrong. He listened to the tick of the clock on the wall as he concentrated on breathing. It didn't seem to be helping. Should he let Maggie give him something? No. He was going to be an idiot and ride this out. It had to get better, right? He heard the door open again and Maggie's footsteps as she crossed the floor towards him.
"I need to change your bandage and the packing," she said. "I can do it here, if you don't want to come down the hall with me." She could see his body shaking now, more than it had been and the hair on the back of his neck was matted down with sweat. Why would he allow himself to go through this when he didn't have to? Was he some sort of masochist? "Daryl, please. A packed incision hurts like hell. Don't do this to yourself. Let me help you."
"Don't need no help", he grumbled and Maggie jumped when his breath hitched suddenly.
"You're a stubborn ass, Dixon," she said.
He knew that. He felt a sharp prick on the back of his left shoulder and flinched away from it. "What th' hell!?"
He heard Maggie's voice whisper in his ear, "I'm sorry, Tiger, but I can't let you do this to yourself. "
His head swam and the pain started to recede. Shit, whatever she'd given him worked fast. He tried to shift over onto his back but it was like his arms and legs had turned to lead. She came around the chair and knelt down again to face him.
She smiled at him and reached her hand out and caressed his cheek. "You're so stubborn, but it kills me to see you in pain, especially when you don't have to be. Just relax, you're going to take a little catnap Ti Ti and I'm going to repack your dressing."
Ti Ti? Was she fuckin' serious? "Stop.. touchin' me." Daryl mumbled. "An' don'... call me..." His eyelids were getting heavy and the pain was all but gone.
"I have to touch you to clean out your big boo boo," he heard her say from far away. He felt her hands on him pushing at his shoulder and then tugging at his belt on his left side as she tried to roll him onto his back.
"Stop," he whispered. He felt his left arm being moved and bent and his left hand was placed across his chest. His shirt was pulled up gently to expose the bandaged wound.
"Shhhhhhh." Maggie whispered back. "Just relax and let Maggie take care of you."
Daryl succumbed to his body's desire to sleep as Maggie tore the top dressing off and then started to extract the packing from the open wound. It was just as gunky and disgusting looking as it had been before but the hole was noticeably smaller. Daryl was healing well. She rinsed the wound and swabbed it and then soaked fresh gauze in a mixture of sterile water and a powdered antihistamine. She packed the gauze into the open wound and put a border dressing on top. She placed a clear waterproof patch on top of the border dressing. The whole process took about fifteen minutes.
Daryl groaned and shifted in the chair. Maggie pulled Daryl's shirt down over the bandage and leaned down over his face. "See how well that worked? It's only been about fifteen minutes and I'm all done and you'll be wide awake in just a minute. I was right to give that sodium pentothal a try."
Daryl kept his eyes closed but Maggie saw the corners up his lips turn up into a small smile. "Ain't that the shit they use to execute pris'ners?"
"They used to use it for that. That and putting animals to sleep." She admitted.
"I piss you off so much you wanna kill me? Bring the Daryl Dixon fan club started by Shane Walsh back?"
The smile was still there. Maggie grinned. He was talking to her, fooling with her. That was a step in the right direction. "No. I'm a bit upset with you, but not enough to want to kill your stubborn ass. Sodium pentothal is also used as a truth serum, lets see if it works, shall we?"
Daryl "pfffted" at her. "Movie bullshit. Go 'head, ask me somethin' an' I'll lie. Show you it's bullshit."
"Fine." Maggie sat on the couch across from the chair. "Why are you mad at me."
"Ain't mad at you. Just don't like getting' close to people. They get hurt, I get hurt, ain't worth it. Just tryin' to run you off afore that happens."
Maggie nodded and looked into Daryl's eyes. What she read there indicated that he wasn't lying.
"That sounded like a truthful answer to me."
He nodded. "Guess it was. Maybe you're right. Okay, try another."
Maggie leaned forward and studied his face. He furrowed his brow and looked down at his stomach for a second and she could tell the pain was starting to come back. The drug she'd used was only good for short term sedation when you used the proper dosage. She cleared her throat and said, "Okay. ….who is Lily?"
