Sorry for the delay on this chapter. I have the next chapter written down, just not typed. Will try to have that out as soon as possible.
Daryl glanced at her, then at the arrow holes, and realized he couldn't even lie and say they were already there. He glanced back at her and mumbled, "I was bored." Lauren laughed, and finished laying his clothes down on the crate, then she turned to face him and sat down on the floor beside the bed.
"How you feeling?" She asked laying her hand on his forehead. He turned his head away from her hand and tsked, "I'm fine," he barked out.
Her hand snapped out and rested on his forehead again. She left it there for a moment before she pulled it back with sigh. "Ya got a touch ov'a fever," she sat back on the floor, leaning back and grabbing a rag cloth she had sitting in the clothes basket she had brought with her. She slung it over her shoulder and crawled over to the door of the tent.
He watched her the moment her hand left his forehead. He watched her when she leaned back to grab the cloth that had fallen off her shoulder, the muscles in her arm straining and her shirt riding up to expose a small sliver of her midsection. He was so wrapped up in watching her he didn't even acknowledge her previous statement.
She leaned back out of the opening in the tent and grabbed her bottle of water. Cracking it open she poured a little into her mouth, letting it cool her throat, before grabbing the rag and letting the water seep into that and letting it soak up.
She turned and crawled back inside the tent and zipped the door back up. She knelt beside Daryl's make shift bed and lightly placed the clothe on his head. She whipped it back and forth a few times, collecting the beads of sweat off his forehead and pushing his hair back away from his eyes. She flipped the cloth over and laid the moist colder side back down on his head. "Feel better?" She asked looking down at him.
Daryl gave a low hum, his eyes starting to flutter. His body was slowly relaxing with the slow cloth on his forehead, the adrenaline from earlier and the blood loss finally taking their toll. She smiled softly when she noticed him fighting sleep for the second time underneath the cool cloth resting on his forehead.
Shane stood by the porch on surveillance, watching over the group and making sure they wouldn't be surprised by any walkers on the land when he noticed movement coming from Daryl's tent. He grabbed is binoculars and raised them up to his face and pointed them towards Daryl's camp site. With the way the ten was facing he could only see the door flap being moved and a small hand come out and grab a water bottle. The bottle retreated half way up and in the tent before coming back out and pouring some water on a cloth.
Shane's fists clenched around the binoculars. He knew who's hand that was, and there was no mistake that she was either waiting for Daryl or she was cleaning both of them off. Shane knew exactly how to find out what she was doing too.
He jumped up the stairs two at a time and almost ripped the door off its hinges getting into the house. He darted up the stairs inside and when he reached the landing he slowed his pace to a brisk walk not to alarm anyone who was upstairs. He approached the room Daryl was supposed to be in and opened the door. He cautiously peered inside and cursed softly before pulling the door closed.
Lauren sat by his side, rinses the cloth of the sweat build up every once and a while. She sat there and watched over him while he slept.
She carefully climbed out of his tent, making sure not to wake him, before turning around and zipping it closed. She picked up her empty forgotten laundry basket and started back towards the house. She had to let Hershel know that Daryl had snuck out back to his tent earlier and had a touch of a fever. On her way back to the house, she made a swing by the spare tent Rick had given her, and picked up her small hunters knife that she had had tucked away in her boot when she arrived. When she finished with her stop at her makeshift home, she clipped her knife onto her belt and carried on.
She climbed the stairs into the house and walked in. She set her laundry basket down and walked towards the kitchen to see if she could find Hershel.
"Hershel, are y'a in here?" She called out walking around the corner, she jumped when instead of Hershel, Shane stepped around the corner. "Oh, hey Shane," she murmured awkwardly trying to side step him.
"Hey Lauren, where have you been?" Shane asked, stepping in front of her and walking towards her forcing her to back up towards the wall. Lauren felt her back connect with the wall and she swallowed, hard.
"N-no where's really, here and there, y'know." She let her eyes drift, desperately looking for another exit route to get away from the situation. She felt his hand rest on her shoulder and start drifting down towards her hand.
"Y'know, I'm always here if you want to have a little, fun," he purred, grabbing her hand with a leer on his face.
Lauren felt a shiver of discuss run down her spin when he spoke to her, "Thanks for the offer Shane," she spoke slowly, "but no thanks, I'm not interested." She had just finished her sentence when Lori walked around the corner. A look of fear and fury crossed her face before settling on indifference.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I hope I didn't interrupt something important." The accusation was clear in her tone, and her pointed look at Shane's hand that was still holding her wrist confirmed her suspicions.
Lauren felt as if she would puke. "N-no! Shane was just warnin' me, about bein' careful, ya know 'round the horses." She ripped her hand out of his tightening grasp and looked away from both of them. "Thanks fer the advice, Offica Walsh." She quickly darted past him and Lori and sprinted towards the door when she slammed into Hershel.
"Lord child! Are y'alright? Yer paler then a ghost!" He grabbed her lightly by the upper arms to steady her and spoke to her in a soft calm voice so her wouldn't spook her anymore then what she already appeared to be, by the paleness of her face.
"I-I'm fine Hershel. I jus' wanted to let ya know that Daryl has a feva' and he's out in his tent." She stammered out before rushing back out the door. Hershel watched her go with a concerned frown on his face as she scrambled back towards Daryl's tent.
Later in the evening Lauren sat around the fire that was smoldering away, waiting for one of the canned soups she had had in her old backpack to heat up. Daryl had been asleep all afternoon, but thankfully his fever had broke, and he was sure to be hungry when he awoke. She carefully grabbed the can and poured the warm soup into a bowl. Grabbing the bowl she walked back over to his tent and crawled inside.
She sat the bowl down on one of the crates he had in his tent and slid over beside him carefully. She laid her hand on his shoulder and gave him a light shake, "Daryl, time t'a git up." She called softly, "Daryl."
Daryl stirred lightly, his head shifting side to side trying to find the voice cutting through the fog of his sleeping mind. His eyes fluttered as the voice called for him again, and carefully he cracked his eyes open and saw Lauren leaning over him with a soft smile.
"Mornin' sleepin' beauty," She said lightly. "Bout time you got up, I brought ya some soup." She watched as Daryl tried to push himself up into a sitting position, but was having troubles holding himself up and trying to favour his right side. Lauren quickly took to looking around the room and noticed a spare sleeping bag. She leaned over and grabbed it and balled it up to shove behind him
"There, much better. Lemme help ya." She reached behind her and grabbed the bowl of warm soup and brought it closer to Daryl.
"Don't need no goddamn help." He barked out and tried to reach for the bowl but froze and had to hold back a cry when his side was jarred from the quick movement.
""Don't need no help" Huh?" She asked with smirk on her face. "Your side begs tuh differ." She brought the bowl closer to here and grabbed the spoon, "Here."
She brought the spoon full of soup to him and waited for him to open his mouth. When he didn't budge she growled at him, "Daryl, yer hurt and ya need to stop being so damned stubborn and open yer mouth." She waited for him to take the bait and when he opened his mouth to respond to her she jerked forward and slid the spoon into his mouth.
His lips closed and his teeth chomped down immediately, stopping the spoon from going down his throat, the last thing he wanted was to gag on a spoon.
She laughed then, he looked like a kicked puppy dog. "There, now, was that so hard?" She gave the spoon a light tug to get him to release it. When he let the silverware slide out of his mouth she stuck it back in the bowl of soup before bringing it back up to him.
"Dammit woman! I can feed my-" Lauren quickly cut him off with another spoon full of soup.
"Daryl, stop lettin' yer pride get in the way and just eat the damned soup, would ya?" She sat there in front of him with a less than impressed facial expression, and quickly dug the spoon back in the bowl, scooping out some of the food and holding it up to him. "Now, we go'n have to do this the hard way, or are you gonna stop being such a big baby about this?"
She faltered under his glare but then strengthened her resolve. He was injured and needed to eat, and she was not going to let him further injure himself in the process. She watched as he crossed his arms but his glare weakened. She brought the spoon to his lips and watched with baited breath to see of he would actually open them. And he did. She tipped the spoon carefully letting the broth run into his mouth and trickle down his throat. This time she picked up some of the noodles and a small piece of chicken in the spoon to bring to his lips a small smile on her face.
See you soon *heart*