Ugh only two chapters left after that ;_;
setting: episode 13 "Beside The Dying Fire"
Salvation
Chapter 38 - Veritas
They were deep in the woods by now. Daryl turned around from time to time to check on Connor. Mostly because he could hear how his groans and moans got louder with every minute. They'd been collecting firewood for only ten minutes when the hunter had enough and stopped walking.
"What is wrong with yah?" he spat and Connor looked at him in surprise.
He wiped the sweat off his forehead and shrugged.
"I'm just really tired man. And the gunshot wound hurts" he murmured.
His voice was lacking strength already.
"Pull yourself together. We need t' find enough wood before it's getting dark."
He was pissed at Connor because he wouldn't tell him what was wrong. It always drove him crazy to see the Irishman like that. Hurt. In pain. Since the day they'd first met. Daryl shook his head angrily and walked on only to stop when he heard Connor retch. He turned around in surprise and saw the Irishman head down, with his hands on his knees. Suddenly he retched again and started throwing up blood. Daryl threw the wood away and rushed to help him.
"Jesus, just tell me, what is wrong with you? Let me help yah!" he shouted but Connor just coughed and threw up even more blood.
Daryl was horrified when he saw all the blood.
The Irishman staggered and almost fell over, so he grabbed him by his shoulders to hold him steady.
"Connor? Just..come on man, you're scaring the crap outta me" Daryl said and Connor wiped his mouth after a moment.
He gasped and looked up. It shocked his friend even more because his face and mouth were bloody and he was so very pale all of a sudden.
"I couldn't find 'em" Connor murmured and Daryl frowned.
He still held Connor tight by his shoulders.
"Who?"
"Beth and Patricia. Behind the farmhouse when we were looking fer Carl."
He retched again and took a deep breath. He took a couple of deep breaths and squeezed his eyes shut in pure agony.
"What's the point in all this? Stop changing the topic and tell me what's wrong!" Daryl shouted and Connor growled.
"I ain't changing the topic."
"Stop talking crap then and tell me."
Connor shook his head and ended up throwing up blood again. He groaned and held his belly in pain.
"I'm too fuckin scared man" he croaked and Daryl frowned.
"Of what?"
"The truth" Connor answered and looked at the tattoo on his finger.
The arm that was causing him to throw up his guts now.
"Just fuckin tell me man. I'm just as scared as yah."
The Irishman swallowed.
"Can I show you something?"
"You don't need t'ask, silly."
Connor took a deep breath and grabbed the sleeve of his pea coat to lift it up. He then removed the towel he'd wrapped around the bite and showed Daryl his arm.
The hunter just stared at the wound. He was petrified.
No, that ain't happening.
He could see the marks, the bloody infected flesh, the blackened veins all around the wound. Connor sniffed.
"When I went back to the house a walker attacked me. We fell down, he right on top af me. I managed ta grab my gun but a gunshot startled me an I lost grip af him."
He pulled the sleeve back down and shook his head.
"I was too slow. I shot it dead but it was too fuckin late."
Connor looked up slowly and waited for his friend to say something, but Daryl just stood there. The hunter just stared at his arm in disbelief.
After a moment he pushed Connor away and turned around. The Irishman stumbled, but managed to get hold of himself. He turned around to look at Daryl with a frown. The hunter kept walking up and down for a moment and glared at Connor from time to time.
"I just need a second to process this" he growled and Connor put his hands in his pockets.
"Look, I know it's shit but.."
Daryl darted forward and interrupted him. He started shouting at him.
"Why?! Why the fuck now?!"
He shoved Connor again and got even more furious.
"Why you?!" he yelled and turned around again.
He grabbed his hair and shook his head.
"It's ok...all yer screaming isn't gonna make it any better" Connor murmured and Daryl turned around again.
He looked so hurt, so furious, so mad. He was mad at those stupid women the Irishman had went looking for. Mad at that stupid walker who'd bit his best friend.
Mad at Connor for being so incredibly, incredibly stupid. Mad at the world. For taking thatfrom him.
He approached Connor once more and shoved him again. Part of him wanted to beat his face bloody for that.
He was so angry.
"Don't you tell me to calm down! What do you fuckin know!"
"I told you I was scared af the truth" Connor just said quietly.
Daryl snorted.
"Well, there you have it, stupid. What did you think it would be like?"
"I fuckin know what it's like! What's going ta happen! I'm gonna start chewing on me own guts in a couple af hours, I'll be drownin in my own fuckin blood! I'll suffocate and burn up at the same time! Sooner or later the fever and pain's gonna kill me! My whole fuckin body's gettin poisoned with this shit right now! Have you got any idea how fuckin much it really hurts? So don't you tell me anything about knowing what it's like! The real truth here is that we can't do anything about it! So if someone's got a reason ta start yelling, it's gotta be me, don't you think?!" Connor yelled at and and gasped for air once he'd finished.
Daryl just stared at him for a moment. When he saw blood running down Connor's chin he snapped again.
"Yer like a brother to me! What kind of cruel, fucked up egoistic bastard are yah t'do something like that to people?"
He kicked the dirt and started walking up and down again.
"Cos really, Merle and my stupid father ain't nothing compared t'yah sick shit. I mean, was it fun, stumbling right into my life and fuckin me up for weeks, makin me believe I'm worth a damn? Yeah right, you just come, fuck everyone up, make them like yah, care about yah, only that you can be some selfish fucker and opt out the moment it gets a little fuckin chaotic?"
He shoved Connor again.
"I told yah to watch yer stupid ass! All you had to do was keep your promise and do what your stupid brother and I asked yah to!" Daryl shouted and grabbed the Irishman's arm to look at the bite once more.
Connor winced and tried to get him off but Daryl wouldn't let go.
"Now look at yah."
They both just looked at each other for a while until Connor swallowed and Daryl shook his head.
He let go of Connor. The Irishman held his wounded arm tight and took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry.'s all I can say. I'm so fucking sorry, but I'm gonna die. And you need ta live with it."
Daryl snorted and turned around to walk off.
"Would you please stop it now? I haven't got much time left Daryl. And I'd rather spent it not fuckin fighting with you."
His friend turned around and glared at him.
"And now yer askin me t'act like it's alright."
"Take it as my dying wish?"
Daryl approached him and stared him down.
"You keep your mouth shut. You've done enough already."
Daryl walked past him and growled.
"We need to find firewood. This conversation is over."
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't be mad at Connor forever. Because it was getting worse and worse. He ended up carrying all the firewood on his own and the Irishman kept staggering after him, throwing up blood every once in a while. He knew it was cruel to let him keep walking. He knew he was torturing Connor like that but he was scared of returning to camp. Because then everything would fall into place. He knew Connor would lie down and wouldn't get up anymore. He knew his friend was going to die there. After 15 minutes of walking he couldn't do it anymore. Connor was panting and groaning in pain behind him and it felt like someone was stabbing him with every breath he took. He knew Connor would follow him until his knees gave in, so it was on him to stop it. He stopped walking after a moment and took a deep breath. Daryl knew that he had to look past his anger. For the sake of his friend. He turned around to look at Connor who held on to a tree and tried to catch breath.
"So this is it" he said quietly and snorted.
"Yer really gonna die."
Connor looked up and nodded after a moment.
"Aye."
Daryl chewed on his lower lip and shook his head gently.
He felt a big lump in his throat and walked back to grab Connor's arm.
"Let's get yah back to the camp."
Connor groaned when they started walking again.
"It's alright. Just a little bit more and yah can lie down and rest" Daryl murmured but Connor shook his head.
"I don' want to."
Daryl nodded.
"I know. But you've got to."