HI EVERYBODY...IIIIIMMM BBBBAAAAAAAACCCCCKKKKK! ITS BEEN A LONG FEW MONTHS BUT I HAVE RETURNED WITH MORE WORDS OF ANGST AND DRAMA!
Intense pain flaring up in his chest was the first thing Daryl felt as he began to come around from unconsciousness. He felt like he had gone a few rounds with a Mack truck and was on the losing side of that battle. Everything hurt, even thinking of moving made a pain in his side angry.
Daryl moaned out his agony, only seeming to make the tightness in his chest constrict all the more.
"Stay still baby bro, don' wanna go pullin nothing important out now do ya?" It was a far off voice in Daryls head, one he was pretty sure he was hallucinating for all it was worth. Trying to find a steady rhythm to breathe in that wouldn't make him see black spots behind his already blackened closed eyes, Daryl was not prepared for the hand he felt on his face.
Without thinking of the consequences, Daryl immediately flew to the other side of his bunk, back pressed against the wall, chest heaving in and out in an unsteady rhythm while his eyes were darting from side to side at his intruder.
"Hey now, calm down, jus me." Merle stooped in front of Darlys bunk, hands outstretched in a friendly 'I mean you no harm' manner. He hadn't expected that reaction from the smaller man as he had just been full blown unconscious a few minutes before. "Daryl? Whats wrong?" There was a look in his baby brothers eyes that Merle couldn't quite place, and that was more off putting than the way his brother couldn't seem to get his breathing under control.
"Daryl? Whats wrong?" Daryl couldn't quite get a grip for these words as his eyes darted around the room, seeing everything but not really taking anything in enough to understand. His panic level began to rise, feeling a sense of fight or flight bubbling in his stomach.
Merle came closer to Daryls still retreated form pressed tightly against the back wall.
"Dare?" That seemed to snap Daryls attention away from the cell entrance and to the large form in front of him, but for as much as he tried, Daryl let out a strangled sound in the back of his throat before Merle realized he was flat on his ass, and his baby brother was trying to make a break for the cell entrance.
"RICK! FUCKIN' SOMEONE! HELP!" Before even making it out of the door, Daryl was on the ground clutching his chest and in more pain than he thought he had ever been in before. Curled in on himself, he didn't notice more sets of feet appear before him. Distantly he could hear talking but again, he could not determine if it was real or all in his head.
"What happened?"
"He jus' freaked!"
"HERSHEL!"
"Get him off the floor before he hurts himself further."
Hands were suddenly on him, and that set his alarms off once more. Kicking and trying to fight off the assaulting hands that only wanted to cut into him more, Daryl prided in the fact that he would at least go down swinging.
"Hold him down!"
He refused to be restrained so helpless again. He couldn't let the bastards win, not as long as he still had breath in his body. However, soon enough, his struggles became sluggish, simply pushing hands away from them when he could make contact.
When Daryl was finally back on his bunk and subdued, Rick turned to Merle, a wild look in his eyes.
"What the hell was that?!" The ex-sheriff screamed at their newest occupant. He walked right up to Merles personal space, not backing down from the height difference. Merle may be Daryls brother by blood, but that was his apocalyptic brother there laying hurt, and he would be damned if he let anyone hurt him again.
"I tol' you, he was fine one minute, and when I touched him he tried to get as far way as possible!" Merle never cowered, especially from the long arm of the law.
"Hes ripped out some of his stitches. Carol, get me more bandages, and as many clean towels as you can scrounge up. No doubt Ill have to reset this wrist as well." Hershel called from Daryls side, sending the petite woman out of the cell on onto her tasks. The two men looked over at the vet and watched him as he rechecked all of their hunters previous wounds.
Now taking shallow breaths, Daryl was a sickly gray color, sweat dripping off his forehead.
"What could have caused something like that?" Rick asked, coming to stand behind Hershel, and hand him small items he asked for until Carols return.
"Hard to say. My guess though? He's been through a great trauma, theres no telling how much of his escape that he remembers. For all we know, he still thinks hes in Woodbury. Did he say anything before he tried to escape?" Hershel turned to Merle, trying to drag out any information for a proper diagnosis.
"Nah, was jus spacey like he use ta get when Id leave 'im for few days. Come back an' he wouldn' focus on nothin." Merle leaned back in between the foot of the bunks and the cell entrance ready to intervene if necessary.
"Thats a common symptom with post traumatic stress victims. If severe enough, some victims wont even see their current surroundings but rather be pushed back into those traumatic events. We cant even begin to imagine everything The Governor did to him." Carol walked in just then, fresh towels and bandages at the ready. The vet looked at the usually strong hunter with a sad grimace on his face. Not only would he have a long road of physical recovery, but now they had to make sure to tread lightly on his emotional status as well.
Needing no other help, Hershel ushered the others out of the cell so he could reexamine his patient and fix him up again.
Silently, Rick and Merle walked downstairs to the makeshift kitchen area they had and sat at one of the prison tables. It was at least 10 minutes of both lost in their own thoughts before either one of them spoke.
"How worried do we need to be of The Governor?" Rick asked suddenly, sounding very tired.
"If Dare were up to it, Id be tellin yall to run your sorry asses outta here as fast as ya can." Merle didn't even look up as he spoke. He spent a good while with The Governor and his people to know that when he wanted something, he would take it anyway necessary without any lingering thoughts.
"How soon?"
"Id give 'im a few more days 'fore he makes any move. He'll build up tha numbers first."
"Then we only have a few days before we go to war." Rick looked out the window at the blue sky outside. How many more wars did they have left in them?
THERE YOU HAVE IT! PLEASE LET ME KNOW HOW YOU LIKE THIS CHAPTER AND IF THERE IS A SPECIFIC DIRECTION YOU WOULD LIKE TO SEE THIS STORY GO IN. THIS IS RUN PURELY ON YALLS KIND WORDS AND SUGGESTIONS! I DO TAKE THEM TO HEART! TIL WE MEET AGIAN LOVELIES!