Firstly, I am SO SORRY I didn't write! My tablet screen broke, have to wait for my day to get paid before i can get a replacement, so the majority of this was written on my ipod. Please forgive the typos if I haven;t found them all- curse you, tiny keyboard!
She laid there for awhile, drifting in and out of sleep, content to know Daryl was by her. He hadn't left her side- and probably never would again, for that matter.
She'd drifted in and out of conciseness during the bullet removal, each time feeling Daryl's work-worn hand grasping her own.
"Dad?" She felt like doing anything but sleeping at the moment.
On the contrary, she felt like she should be up DOING something.
"Yeah?" Daryl asked, looking down at her as her eyes fluttered open.
" 'M bored." She struggled to prop herself up with her elbow, but ended up falling back roughly on the pillows. Damn, since when was she so uncoordinated and sore? She tried again, barely managing to succeed.
Daryl's firm hands forced her back down on the pillows, then. "Stay." He ordered.
"But Daaad..." She whined.
Any other time she'd whined, Daryl would've told her to stop being a pussy. But considering she'd been shot today, he'd let her whine. He was grateful she was alive TO whine.
He sighed. "Okay. What do ya want me to do?"
She looked thoughtful for a moment, before grinning at him. "Tell me a story..."
Daryl blinked, surprised. Sure, she'd asked to hear about hunting trips and supply runs, but never really a story...
"Like a fairy tale?" He asked, cocking his head. She shrugged, forgetting the shoulder wound and crying out. Daryl instinctively grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly.
"Breathe, baby girl..." He ordered.
She nodded, slowly releasing the pressure from her grit teeth. "A-any story. Just... somethin'." Daryl nodded, trying to think. He'd do anything to distract her from the pain.
"Umm... There was a raccoon. One day, there was a baby raccoon that got lost in the woods. Just a baby, 'bout this big."
Daryl gently pressed her fingers together, folding he hand into a fist, to show her the size. She smiled weakly, and he kept going.
"Was all alone, must've crawled out of the nest or somethin'. Couldn't find the mom anywhere, it was a cold spring, wasn't gonna survive if it was left in the frost."
She nodded, green eyes that'd been cloudy with pain a bit more focused as she watched him intently. "What happened to it?" She asked quietly.
"I found it. Couldn't just leave it there to die, wasn't fair to shoot it- was just a baby, didn't even have it's eyes open. So I brought it back home 'nd fed it milk with a plastic spoon."
Jamie looked really interested, now.
"And it grew up. Got too big to live in the trailer with us, 'sides, my old man was pissed as hell when he found out I was feeding it. Merle and I- we let it go in the woods. Raccoons- they're always wild. Hell, you can try and tam'e it, but in the end, they'll always go wild."
Jamie nodded- she was country, she knew it was true. Still, she looked a little more up beat. "What happened to it?"
"Well, it went wild, 'course- but I'd leave my bedroom window open at night, he'd claw his way in. And when it got too cold for that, he chewed his way into the crawl space and managed to get in my room. Little bastard chewed through the drywall."
Daryl smiled slightly at the memory. At sixteen, he'd been shocked to come in and find the raccoon he'd raised sitting expectantly on his pillow, covered in white powder, dust from where he'd chewed through the wall, and little pieces of plaster.
Jamie smiled slightly. "How long did you have it?"
They both knew all too well that all living things had to die, whether it was natural or by walkers.
"Another year. It managed to get into my Old Man's room- shredded his playboy collection, shit all over his bed. Almost like he knew I hated the fucker..." Daryl said quietly, looking away for a brief moment. "So he took 'em out back and shot 'em. Merle helped me bury him. Dad was yelling about how pansy ass we were, but Merle... He knew that old coon meant something to me. So he helped."
Jamie nodded, looking seriously at him. "Is that what I am to you? Another raccoon?" She asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"Hell no." Daryl said, looking shocked. "I just figured you'd like the story."
She smiled slightly, reassured. " 'S oaky. And yeah, I liked the story."
Daryl nodded, not really convinced she was reassured. She WASN'T just another raccoon he'd found. She was the thing that'd kept him going after Merle died. "You're not just my raccoon, Jamie." Daryl said calmly. "You're my daughter. And I won't let nobody hurt you ever again."
He reached down, starting to stroke her hair. "Now get some rest, okay, baby girl?" "Mmmm..." She nodded to him slightly, turning and curling up on her side, non-injured shoulder facing up.
It got dark, eventually. Everyone else was at the nightly fire, but Rick and Hershel strayed, quietly stepping in to see her. "How is she?" Rick asked, finding Daryl still beside her, a lantern burning, warm glow flickering slightly, casting eerie shadows on everything.
"She's asleep for the night." Daryl said quietly, looking over at Hershel, concerned.
"She ain't eating." He said quietly.
"After all the trauma she went through today, she's probably tired. She'll be hungry in the morning- give her broth, and make sure she's drinking."
Daryl nodded. "Think I can take her back to the guard tower?" He asked quietly.
Hershel nodded. "As long as it doesn't re-open, she'll be fine. We'll see how she's doing in the morning."
Daryl nodded, gently gathering her into his arms, bridal style. He blew out the lantern, nodding to Rick. No emotion played out on his face. None would- not after how he'd already had one outburst today already.
"She'll be fine, Daryl." Rick said, looking at his friend, concerned. Daryl simply grunted, turning and heading out into the prison yard.
Moonlight glinted off his hair, silver grey in the night, but he stayed well out of the range of the firelight. He didn't want to be interrupted.
Jamie's head lolled against his bicep, mumbling something incoherent. Daryl gathered up the mop of chestnut hair, gently bringing his hand behind her head, guiding so she was nearly in a headlock, head held still between his hand and chest.
"Almost there, baby girl." He promised,letting himself into he guard tower and mounting the stairs, before reaching the top and finding the heap of blankets they kept around.
He gently set her against the wall, sitting her up, before making a pile of blankets, somewhere soft to lay her down on.
He gently laid her down on her uninjured side, brushing the hair from her face and planting a small kiss on her forehead.
"'Gnight, baby girl."
He laid awake for hours that night, haunted by what he'd almost lost, and listened to the reassuring sound of her breathing.