DISCLAIMER: I do not own AMC's and Robert Kirkman's "The Walking Dead" or any of its characters/places. There may be a few OCs at a later time and those will be mine. (NO MARY SUES).
WARNINGS: Rated T for language, violence, gore, and sexual situations.
Carl was utterly lost. Both Daryl and Maggie were deeply unconscious and despite his best efforts, neither could be roused. He knew things were bad with both of them and tried to think of what Hershel or someone would be doing in his place.
Daryl obviously needed medical attention first but Carl was afraid to do anything. He didn't want to touch Daryl and end up making his injury worse. But it couldn't be left untreated—not with the size of the gash he had. Every second his leg was laid open for only increased the likelihood of a fatal infection occurring.
Carl moved closer to Daryl and looked down on him. They'd seen plenty of gruesome injuries but it was different when they were on a living person. Carl looked away and went back to Maggie: He wasn't ready to deal with Daryl yet. She was still out and Carl picked her head up and slid a pillow under it. He figured that raising her head might help with the coughing she'd been having. It wasn't much but Carl pulled a dusty blanket over her and removed her boots and socks to make her a little more comfortable. When he was done, it was time to face the inevitable and work on Daryl.
He knelt next to Daryl and checked his breathing and pulse. They were both slow and uneven.
"Daryl?" asked Carl. "Can you hear me?"
Carl waited and sighed when Daryl didn't answer him. He looked back at Daryl's leg and tried to get a sense of how bad the bleeding was. He peeled back Maggie's shirt and immediately replaced it. He had seen the white of a bone and that was enough to churn his stomach.
"What do I do first?" Carl asked himself. What made sense? The river had been dirty and filled with all sorts of bacteria. He had to clean Daryl's leg or it'd certainly get infected. Then he could work on stitching it. Or wait for Maggie to wake up and she could do it. She was a girl: she should be good at sewing.
Carl stood and shivered. He was soaked and it only made sense to get into some dry clothes before attempting to do anything for Daryl: shaky hands would not work around a severe wound. He went to a bedroom and searched the closet for something his size or close to it. Most the clothes seemed to have been bought for a male about Daryl's size so there was little that fit Carl adequately. He finally settled on a t-shirt and drawstring pants that he was able to tighten enough to keep them from falling off his hips. Carl then went back to searching the trailer for anything that might be used to clean Daryl's wound. He jumped up on the counter to open the cabinets over the stove and came upon a rather large assortment of alcohol. It would be better than nothing. He pulled down six bottles in total: three of whiskey, two of vodka, and another that was clear and unmarked. He returned to Daryl and set them down. Carl wandered into the small bathroom and opened drawers trying to find some clean towels. He came away with a couple that seemed to be in good condition.
"Daryl?" he asked once more, dropping the towels next to the injured man. If he was about to pour alcohol on Daryl's leg, he wanted to make sure he wasn't going to wake up during it.
Daryl remained as he had been and Carl sat down. As gingerly as he could, Carl lifted Daryl's left leg and placed a towel under it. He untied Maggie's shirt and removed its bloody remains. Carl winced in sympathy for Daryl and the pain he had to of been in. It was time to stop lollygagging though and without thinking, Carl reached for a bottle of vodka, unscrewed it, and poured a generous amount over Daryl's leg. Once the alcohol came into contact with Daryl's ruined leg, his whole body jerked and he cried out in pain.
Daryl's eyes shot open as he yelled and thrashed on the floor.
"I'm sorry!" said Carl but Daryl didn't hear him. He reached wildly for the source of his pain and grabbed his leg. He cried again once his hands found the wound and Carl had to press them down against the floor. Daryl fought with Carl and knocked him away without knowing it. Carl's head hit the corner of a low table and his vision went out of focus. He saw Maggie's figure rise up off the couch and rush to him.
"Are you ok?" she asked and felt the back of Carl's head.
"I'm fine…Daryl…"
"Help me with him; he's going to hurt himself."
Carl crawled with Maggie to where Daryl was writhing in pain.
"Daryl, please calm down…you're going to make it worse," Maggie said gently and tried to hold him still. Carl put all his weight on Daryl's thigh so he wouldn't kick out and cause more damage to himself. They did what they could to comfort him and Daryl's fighting grew less and less while beads of sweat formed on his head and chest. Finally he relaxed and Maggie felt the muscles under her loosen. "Daryl?" she asked hesitantly.
"Yeah…" he rasped but his head rolled listlessly.
"We have to clean your leg…it's going to hurt."
Daryl nodded weakly and scrunched up his face as he waited for the pain.
"Stay on his leg," Maggie told Carl before taking the bottle of vodka in her hand. Maggie drew in a deep breath and drizzled the alcohol over the gash. Daryl's back arched and his fists clenched as he searched for a way to ground himself. He moaned severely but didn't cry out as he had done before. "Is it getting better?"
"Can't…can't feel much anymore," he said weakly.
"You have to stay with me." Maggie set the bottle down and gripped the side of Daryl's face to turn it towards her. "I know it hurts but—" Maggie stopped as a coughing fit overtook her and she struggled to find a breath. Carl let go of Daryl in order to pat her on the back. Maggie was able to regain control of herself but it left her with burning lungs.
"Ya….are ya…are ya ok?" Daryl tried to ask, his eyes fighting to stay open. "Ya swallowed water…swallowed too much…"
"I'll be ok," Maggie said and reached down to stroke Daryl's hair and reassure him. "We've got to get you fixed up."
"Go for it," said Daryl. "I ain't gonna be here much longer…ya do what ya gotta do."
Maggie smiled bravely as Daryl's pained filled eyes landed on her.
"This might help," she said and offered him the bottle of vodka. Daryl took one look at the clear liquid and turned away. "No? Would whiskey be better?"
"Much," he replied and Carl helped him to sit up some. Maggie selected a bottle of caramel colored liquid and raised it to Daryl's lips. He swallowed generously and sank back to the floor. "If I don't make it through the night—"
"You will," said both Maggie and Carl.
"We'll get you ready to hunt squirrels in no time," said Maggie.
"Shit," cursed Daryl. He sat up quickly and looked around him. "Gotta get us somethin' to eat…ain't gonna make it without food…"
"Stop," commanded Maggie. She was slightly concerned that Daryl would even think he was in any shape to be going hunting. He obviously didn't know how bad off he was. "It's almost dark…you can go out tomorrow. How does that sound?"
Daryl didn't answer her and he laid back down. He closed his eyes and his breathing evened out as he slipped unconscious.
"He's out…Carl, did you find anything to stitch this closed with?"
"I didn't get that far," said Carl. "I was hoping you'd be the one to do it."
Of course, thought Maggie dryly. It wasn't the boy's fault though and he'd done everything he could. From the moment she awoke from Daryl's cries, Maggie realized Carl had stepped up to help her and Daryl.
"Let's put him in a bed…he'll be more comfortable there since he won't be moving around for quite a while. Grab his ankles—"
Together, they moved Daryl to the one bed and set him down gently. Maggie frowned and ran her hand over his wet shirt. She went to the closet and looked through it for something that'd be easy enough to put him in. She came away with a pair of sweat pants similar to Carl's.
Carl already had Daryl's shirt off him by the time Maggie went back to the bed. He looked down hesitantly at Daryl's pants and shrugged.
"I'll do it," offered Maggie. "Just don't tell him it was me," she said with a tiny wink.
Carl stepped back as Maggie stripped Daryl bare. He handed her the pants and Maggie tried to get them on his legs but the action proved more difficult than she anticipated. She finally gave up and settled for covering his waist and chest with a sheet: he'd understand once he woke up.
Carl went back to the other room to retrieve the towels and the bottle of vodka in case they were needed. Maggie coughed again but didn't allow it to deter her from removing Carl's belt from Daryl's thigh where it acted as a tourniquet. Carl returned a moment later and Maggie took one of the towels from him and placed it so it'd catch any blood that dripped.
"We need to find a needle and thread or something…" said Maggie.
"Good luck: I think someone like Daryl used to live here. I don't think they did much sewing," said Carl.
"Then a clothes pin then…anything that's sharp like that."
Carl nodded and went to the bathroom while Maggie poked around the bedroom. She opened the bedside table and stared down at its contents. There was a box of condoms similar to the ones she and Glenn had first used. Her heart ached for him and she felt guilty for it was the first time she'd thought of him since being swept away. She didn't know how far the three of them had been washed nor what side of the river they'd come out on. She had no doubt Glenn would come looking for them, but she wasn't going to get her hopes up that'd he'd be at the door in the morning.
"I found this," said Carl causing Maggie to slam the drawer closed. She turned and saw Carl holding a small sewing kit.
Maggie swallowed her tears and nodded in approval. Carl gave her a strange look but didn't ask her if anything was bothering her. She sat down on the bed next to Daryl and opened the sewing kit. She tested the string and unfortunately it broke easily. She really wanted something that would hold up better but there was no other option. Daryl would just have to stay in bed longer to keep from ripping them.
"Carl, stay on his leg in case he wakes up again," said Maggie. Carl went back to holding Daryl's leg as Maggie doused her hands with the vodka and then threaded the needle. She turned Daryl's leg slightly and Carl held it in its new position. It was her first real glimpse of the damage that had been done and Maggie shut her eyes to temporarily block out the sight. Daryl's calf muscle had a piece missing from it and bone was visible from under the flap of skin. The muscle would grow back, in time, so the main thing was keeping it closed up and infection free. Maggie tenderly tugged the torn skin and aligned it together the best she could. She brought the needle to it and made the first stitch then stopped. Daryl didn't move and she slid the needle back through his skin. Again, Daryl remained motionless and more importantly, pain free.
Altogether, Maggie made twenty three stitches before tying off the last one and placing the needle back in the box. She wrapped one of the remaining towels around Daryl's leg and sat back. Not even a single gasp of pain had come from Daryl and it disturbed her to think he hadn't felt any of it. She reached and felt his neck and chest to gauge his temperature and was satisfied that it seemed normal enough.
"Now what?" asked Carl.
"We wait," sighed Maggie. "Why don't you go sleep on the couch? I'll stay up with him."
"You sure?"
Maggie nodded.
"I found some water and canned food in the kitchen if you get hungry," said Carl.
"Thank you," she smiled as he walked out. She heard him settle on the couch and was glad he would be able to rest.
Maggie moved slowly to the closet and picked out some dry clothes for herself. She turned her back to Daryl and dropped her trousers and stepped into a large fleece pair. She undid her bra and hung it on up to dry then slipped on a grey t-shirt. Going back to the bed, she laid down on her side next to Daryl to watch him sleep. She tried not to think of the others, like Rick and her father whose fates were unknown, but her final images of them were burned into her head. Glenn drifted into her mind every other second and she finally gave in and let the tears roll down her cheeks.
A/N: Thanks for everyone who has checked into the story so far! I hope you all enjoy it.
