She left the bathroom and returned a few moments later with his clothes and reached down to grasp his hand and pull him to a standing position. He scowled down at her as she grabbed a towel and started rubbing him dry, being careful on his side and head. He grunted, "How come yer my nurse?"
"Because everybody else is afraid you'll spit and smack at them."
"Who says I won'?"
She rolled her eyes and finished drying him off. She replied, "I'm surprised you haven't snapped at me or tried to bite me yet."
"Can' bite ya. Ya like it too much," he said with a smirk. She rolled her eyes again and grabbed the gauze from the sink. She began wrapping it gently around his waist, eliciting hisses from him whenever she came too close to the wound in his side. She wrapped it tight and stood on her tiptoes to wrap his head. She held her breath and ignored how close his body was to hers. Daryl hadn't gotten any less sexy over the years. He was still walking, breathing sex appeal.
He was still all muscle. His arms were bulging from all the years spent hunting and working on vehicles and just not being able to sit still for more than a few moments at a time. He'd never been one to 'work out.' He just didn't have the focus for it. He'd only be able to lift weights or run on a treadmill for a few minutes before he'd get bored and wander off to shoot at something or take something apart. He hated the idea of a treadmill taking up space or a weight room. She'd suggested that they buy a gym membership one time and he'd said that she got enough of a work out under and on top of him and by fighting men off at the bar. He hated the idea of spending money on something like that when they were growing food in a garden in the backyard and he was hunting for meat to fill their deepfreeze.
"You're bandaged. I'll help you get your clothes on. Do you want your shirt on or not? It will probably be uncomfortable to sleep in your jeans."
"Sleep in my jeans all the time. Not that bad."
"Well you can put your jeans on tomorrow morning. I was asking if you wanted the shirt."
"Ya. But I don' need yer help."
"You need to not use your arm, Daryl, or it won't heal right."
"Ya know I've had worse that have healed."
"Well, you need to heal quickly. DJ wants to know if you'll teach him how to hunt and you can't hunt if you don't heal. I told him that he'd have to ask you but I figured I'd mention it to you first. You don't have to if you don't want to. I know you don't have any responsibility to DJ."
Daryl froze as she turned to grab his clothes. Her son wanted him to teach him how to hunt. He didn't know if he could. He'd barely been able to look at the child without thinking of the baby that had been in Georgia. He didn't know if his own child had been a boy or a girl. He didn't know if the child would have had his blue eyes or Georgia's brown ones. Whoever she'd replaced him with had blue eyes. Her boy had blue eyes. Her boy reminded him a lot of him when he was a child. It wasn't fair that Georgia'd been able to cut his baby loose but kept the replacement's child.
She turned around with his boxers and he stepped into them wordlessly. She helped him pull his shirt on and buttoned it in the front. He said suddenly, "When I get better, after we find Sophia, I wanna teach yer boy how to hunt. Boy needs to know how to take care of himself."
"He knows how to shoot. I used to take him to the gun ranges."
"Know how to use a crossbow?"
"Never had one."
He nodded and she helped him back to his bedroom. She informed him, "Tomorrow, you'll be able to go back to your tent. I know you'll appreciate that. I have to go check on DJ. I'll come back later and make sure you're alright. Do not lay on that side, Daryl."
"Don' tell me what to do, Georgia Rayne."
She rolled her eyes and left the room.
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
Daryl watched her walk across the room to the punch bowl. Colors from the other prom guests dresses swirled around her, but he didn't lose her once in the crowd. It was like watching a deer in the woods. Other people would lose it in the trees, but he never would. He would follow it, watching it as it made its way through the leaves and trees. Georgia was like that deer. He'd never lose sight of her.
He felt a tap on his shoulder and hated tearing his eyes away from her. He turned to find a tall, leggy blonde staring into his eyes. She was grinning in what he was sure she thought was seductive. She asked, "Wanna dance, country boy?"
"No, my girl is over there." He nodded towards the punch bowl, where Georgia was grinning at somebody while she grabbed a couple cups of punch.
"Well, she's not right here. Come on, I want to see what Georgia sees in you. Everybody else around here says you're white trash, but not Georgia. So what does she see in you?"
Daryl turned back to watch Georgia as she made her way across the dance floor. She looked up into his eyes and grinned one of the blinding grins that she only seemed to share with him. Then her eyes turned to the blonde and she frowned. Daryl noticed that her tiny feet started moving quicker. She came up next to them and handed him the punch quickly. She leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth, hard and fast. She turned to the blonde and demanded, "Ashley, what do you want?"
"Just wanted to take your redneck for a spin."
Daryl watched Georgia bristle up instantly and knew that Ashley had made a mistake. Georgia growled, "Don't call him that."
"Don't call him what, a redneck? Is white trash better? Does he prefer white trash?"
Daryl turned to leave and Georgia's hand clasped around his wrist in an iron grasp. Her other hand came up quickly and snapped Ashley across the face. She hissed, "You're just pissed because somebody didn't give you exactly what you want. So don't talk shit about my boyfriend or I will rip you into shreds, you skinny little whore. Daryl, we are leaving."
She managed to yank him forward a few steps before he stopped her. He pulled her back to him and murmured, "Nah. Yer last dance. Ya oughta stay. Ya oughta enjoy it. Meet ya back at yer place."
"No. I'd rather be home with you. We can watch a movie and fool around."
She grinned at him and he smiled back down at her. He protested half-heartedly, "Ya didn' get to dance much. We didn' do the slow dancin' thing."
"I have a stereo at home. We'll slow dance there."
He gave her his half smile and she grabbed his hand. He flinched but he didn't yank his hand away. She knew he hated public displays of affection and it meant a lot to her that he didn't pull away. She led him out to his truck, glaring at any girl that glanced at him on their way out. Daryl took his turn glaring at the guys that stared at her. It didn't matter what they thought, she was his and Daryl Dixon didn't share with anybody.
Once they were in the truck, Georgia leaned over and whispered, "I have a bottle of wine at my house too."
He wrinkled his nose and she giggled. She informed him, "And a six pack. Bottles. I know you hate cans."
He smiled and kept driving.