"I'm still a believer, but I don't know why
I've never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try
I'm still on that trapeze, still trying everything
to keep you looking at me."
– Mirrorball, T.S.
Daryl
Watching Mila get into Otis' truck and disappear into the horizon was one of the worst things I've had to witness for a while. It felt like a suicide mission and for the third day in a row, she'd found herself in the center of it. How had she managed to stay alive for this long if this was the shit she was constantly doing? Chainsmoking on the porch just barely took the edge off, but it's all I had time for. The sun was dipping and it would be a hell of a lot easier to get T-Dog here before it got dark. Extinguishing the butt in my hand, I headed to my bike and took off. No need to tell anyone I was leaving– they'd hear it.
The wind bit my face, which gave me something to think about other than obsessing about what Mila was doing or if Shane was keeping her close enough. If he was keeping her too close. Asshole. She's probably fighting for her life right now, and you're more concerned about being jealous. I squeezed the handlebar grips even tighter and twisted the throttle a little more, desperate to feel anything else. Slowing as I pulled up, not wanting to be reckless with the sound, I found two allies waiting for me. Glenn was sitting on the RV step with Raven close by, studying the highway. I killed the engine and hopped off.
"She's been sitting here the whole time. I think she's waiting for Mila to come back," Glenn explained, petting Raven's head. You and me both, I thought. "How's Carl?"
"They have to do some sort of surgery, he's got internal bleedin' or somethin'. Mila had to go with Shane to some high school where they might have supplies."
"Mila and Shane? That's an odd pairing." Glenn's tone carried some of the apprehensive energy I felt.
"Yeah, well, Rick and Lori weren't gonna leave, and I had to come back to pick up T-Dog. Mila was the only one who could pick out what the doc would need."
"Speaking of T-Dog, he's looking worse. Sweating bullets and getting chills. I'm glad you came back when you did. The oxy knocked him out though– I'm not sure he'll be able to ride on your bike without falling off."
Okay? What was the plan then? Also, does this mean I could've gone with Mila? I was already pissed. Not at Glenn, but at sending her off alone and for potentially no good reason. I crossed my arms and glared at the ground, trying to keep the red rage bubbling up in check.
"We cleared off some of the cars on the highway, so I think we should just all go," Glenn reasoned, nervously assessing my face. Carol happened to hear him from inside and abruptly opened the door.
"We can't just leave. What if Sophia comes back?" Carol stepped outside, closely followed by Andrea.
"What are we s'posed to do? Leave you, Glenn, and Andrea here alone?" My tone was harsh and I practically barked out the words, but better they're offended than dead.
"Wow. Well, you don't have to say my name like I'm incompetent," Andrea angrily quipped. "If you give me my gun back, I'll be just fine."
"Jesus Christ, the fuckin' gun again," I muttered under my breath while running a hand down my face. I'm about ready to give her my gun just so she'll stop talking about it.
"I think we'd be okay here for the night," Dale spoke up from his roost at the top of the RV, still wearing that stupid hat that all old men seem to spontaneously acquire when they hit sixty. "Since that big herd, we've only seen a straggler here and there. We could stay quiet, be smart about keeping the lights off."
"You could stay here, Daryl," Glenn stated, "and I could drive T-Dog to the farm in Rick's truck." I can't be sitting on edge all night wondering if she's okay. I'll lose my goddamn mind.
"I can come back here after Mila gets back to the farm." It wasn't up for debate and based on the way they were looking at me, they could tell. "She'll want to see that thing too, when she gets there." I threw my arm out at the dog.
"Aw, Raven? She's not so bad," Glenn said, giving her another pet which she happily accepted. Is everyone a dog person but me?
"Alright, so Carol, Andrea, and Dale– you stay here. Glenn, go get T-Dog and load him and Raven up in the car. I'll follow behind ya. Tomorrow, we can rig up a big sign to tell Sophia to wait for us if she finds her way back here and we'll leave her some supplies," I directed, embarrassment slightly flaring in me at the thought of what Merle would say about me acting as if I had any authority in this group. However, no one disagreed with the plan.
"Thank you, Daryl." Carol was looking at me gratefully, but she didn't need to. I wasn't going to leave a little girl without help. I wish people would stop acting like that was honorable– that's what you're supposed to do. It makes me feel like the bar for how people see me is in hell.
After finding Andrea's gun, which Dale had apparently hidden, and loading up a groggy T-Dog, we made our way back to the farm. It was fully dark now, and Otis' truck was still noticeably absent from the front yard. Fuck. Maggie intercepted us on our way up to the house.
"Did you close up the gate to the road when you came in?"
"Uh, hi," Glenn stuttered, "Yes, we closed it. Did the latch and everything. Hello. Nice to see you again. We met before briefly." I rolled my eyes– he's gonna pick now to put the moves on her? "Look, we came to help. There anything we can do?" Maggie's eyes flicked to T-Dog, worried.
"It's not a bite. I cut myself pretty bad though," T-Dog offered weakly.
"We'll have it looked at then," Maggie's eyes drop down to the ground with a smile, "and who's this?"
"This is Raven," Glenn drops down to put his arm around her shoulders, "and she's the sweetest." Seriously, man? Now you're gonna use the dog?
Hook, line, and sinker– Maggie followed Glenn's lead and met him on the ground. Raven happily licked her face, making Maggie laugh.
"Oh, Beth is gonna love you. She yours?"
"She's Mila's," I interrupt impatiently, ready to move on from this, "They're not back yet?"
Maggie shook her head.
"I'm sure they'll be back any minute," she offered, "Otis is real good with his gun."
Yeah, except for when he fuckin' shot a kid. I didn't bother replying to her statement, knowing I wouldn't say anything nice and it seemed too soon to piss off the people who were giving half of our group medical care. We walked up the front porch steps into the house, where Herschel, Rick, and Lori were tensely waiting.
"They don't get back soon, we're going to have a decision to make," Herschel declared gravely. "We may need to operate without the respirator."
"You said that wouldn't work," Lori argued.
"I know. It's extremely unlikely– but we can't wait much longer." He looked at Rick, "And you can't give much more blood without becoming a patient yourself. Does anyone else know if they're A positive? Or O negative?"
The silence was answer enough. I stepped back outside, feeling more suffocated by the minute, and stood on the porch to smoke. As I pulled out my pack of cigarettes, which was starting to feel pretty light, I noticed Raven sitting next to me, keeping watch. At least she was looking out for Mila too. A slam of the screen door made me turn.
"They said 5 miles… they should be long back by now. Something's gone wrong. You with me to go track them down?" Rick was in a panic, his brow glistening as he swayed on his feet. The tension I'd been trying to distract myself from was winding its way around my shoulders and clawing at my neck as the fears I'd been pushing down were reaffirmed.
"You know I am, but you can't go like this. Let me do it." All we needed was for him to pass out during our rescue mission.
"If something happened, I have to go. I can't just sit here."
"Look, I get it. But Carl and Lori need you here. I got the bow and can get 'em out. Your gun will just draw more noise and you're in no state to use a knife." Rick looked like he wanted to argue, but he eventually nodded and took a seat, putting his head in his hands.
"I don't know what to do. I've never felt so useless."
He used the word Mila had thrown out back with the vatos. It had made me bristle then, but it made me furious now that I knew her and saw how much she had to give. As I racked my brain for a response, a pair of headlights caught our eye by the fence. Rick, Raven, and I stood, rigid and frozen as we waited for them to drive across the farm.
The passenger door opened and Mila jumped out before angrily slamming it shut. I let out the breath I was holding– despite her obviously being pissed, she was alive and made it out. Shane exited the driver's seat… and that was it.
"Otis?" Rick asked, already knowing the answer. Shane just shook his head, while Mila went straight into the house, a bag of supplies in tow, without even acknowledging us. Raven jumped up to follow her, but the screen door slammed shut before she could nose her way in. I whistled her back over to me, but decided to stay out of the way on the porch. There'd be enough people crowding her in there.
—-
Mila
I entered the bedroom to see Lori talking to an awake Carl. He smiled at me as I came in, and I brightly smiled back as I put my bag down on the floor.
"Mila! I was just telling my mom about the deer I saw. It was so beautiful."
"Carl!" I replied, mimicking his tone to make him smile again. "I'm so jealous, that sounds amazing. I found an animal friend myself while you've been here."
"You did?" His voice was excited, as if he didn't have shrapnel still sitting in his abdomen.
"He's awake?" Rick came in and rushed to Carl's side, before putting a hand on his hair.
"Dad, I was telling them about the deer! I've never seen one so close before-" Carl's words unexpectedly paused as a blank expression settled over his face. I moved closer to the bed, concerned.
"Carl?" I snapped in front of his face, trying to get any reaction without success. I feared the worst, immediately putting my fingers on his wrist, trying to feel for a pulse, and feeling overcome with relief when I felt one. "Rick, go get Herschel."
As the words left my mouth, Carl began to tense and shake.
"He's having a seizure– Lori, help me get him on his side," I commanded, grabbing Carl's wrist and knee to pull him towards me. He continued to shake and groan.
"Should we hold him down or something? Can we make it stop?"
"No, we'll either hurt him or us. We have to let it run its course, unless Herschel has the right medication." Herschel entered the room. "Do you have any ativan? I'm worried all this jerking will trigger bleeding again."
"I don't."
We watched helplessly for another minute as Carl shook, before he finally stilled.
"His brain isn't getting enough blood. He needs another transfusion," Herschel said, as I moved to recheck Carl's blood pressure. 72/30. Shit, way too low. Almost incompatible with life low.
"Okay, then stick me again. I'll do it," Rick said, holding out his arm.
"You can't– you've already given too much."
"I'll do it. I'm O neg." I took the stethoscope out of my ears to speak. The universal donor– a gift I've never been more grateful for.
"Mila, I need you to help during the surgery."
"I'll do both. We… ran into some trouble and had to leave the ventilator behind, and also couldn't find a laryngoscope. I found a pediatric LMA though, which will be easier to intubate with anyway, and an ambu bag. I'll keep one arm out for blood and the other hand can bag him."
Herschel took a moment to consider this before reluctantly agreeing.
"Alright. Annette!" he called out. Annette and Maggie came in. "Mila's going to give blood. Can you draw her blood?" A chair was pulled out for me to sit in as Herschel prepared the medications he'd be giving to temporarily sedate and paralyze Carl.
Ten minutes later, all of the medical stock I'd found was laid out on a table and we were ready to begin. Rick and Lori left the room, while I passed Annette a pack of sutures, some gauze, and sterile saline.
"This is for my friend out there, T-Dog. He got cut and probably needs some stitches." Annette nodded seriously and took them from my hands. "He's also got a nasty infection."
"You got it. Good luck in here." She gave my shoulder a squeeze and left, closing the door behind her.
Now it was just me, Herschel, and Carl. I helped Herschel position Carl appropriately, so we could get to his airway and place the laryngeal mask. He pushed the medications through his IV I had initially placed when we arrived, and we watched Carl's breathing slow.
"Okay, he's ready. Hold his chin and tilt his head back."
I did as I was told, while Herschel slid the mask to the back of his throat before inflating it. I attached the positive pressure bag and squeezed, watching Carl's chest rise with it. We gave each other a tentative smile. Step one, done. Now, time for the risky portion. Every few seconds, I compressed the bag again to breathe for Carl. The only thing standing between him and suffocation was my hand. I pretended the responsibility didn't exist, scared it would overwhelm me if I let it sink in, like looking down when you're on a tightrope Squeeze, hiss, silence. Squeeze, hiss, silence. Over and over, until I lost track of time.
Herschel quietly worked over Carl's wound, the only other sound the occasional clink of a piece of shrapnel falling onto the metal surgical tray. I watched him place stitch after stitch, carefully irrigating to see if he could identify any other bleeding. My right hand was starting to cramp up from the repeated motion of ventilating, but I didn't dare stop. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on anything else, willing my mind to conquer my body. Pain was temporary. I sunk inward to the mental place that made my body feel untouchable and floated away from the room, allowing the numbness in my fingers to get smaller and smaller.
"Alright," Herschel's voice made my eyes snap open. "I think I got it." He rechecked a blood pressure and a pulse. "BP is 100/60 and his heart rate is in the low one-teens." Perfect vital signs. I exhaled a shaky breath and smiled. If we could prevent any sort of infection, Carl had a good chance. Herschel removed the catheter from my arm and placed a cotton ball over the site. "I've got this," he said, reaching for the ambu bag, taking over for me. "He should be waking up soon and I'm sure your hand could use a break."
I faltered, not wanting to let go of my job, but the truth was I could use a breather. From everything. It had been a terrifying few hours– from seeing Carl bleeding out to dealing with the walkers and Otis to Carl seizing and then his surgery. Hungry and exhausted, I was hitting my emotional limit and ready to fall apart any second. I wanted to be alone when I did.
"Thank you for what you've done for him, what you've done for all of us," I said as I left the room. Rick and Lori were in the living room and looked up at me expectantly. "He's just finishing up, you should be able to go in there soon. He did real good and he's getting more color back."
They embraced each other with relieved smiles. I kept walking, back out to the front porch to get some much needed fresh air and space. Sitting on the long porch swing was Daryl with Raven sprawled at his feet. I exhaled– this is exactly what I needed.
"Were you taking good care of my girl?" I asked him with a teasing smile, before dropping down to officially greet her. "I'm sorry I left you for so long." She pushed her head into my hand, tongue lolling out to the side in delight. Worn out, I threw myself down in the space next to Daryl and let my head drop back.
"She was lookin' for you all day. Never stopped." His tone made my eyes flutter back open because he was talking about Raven, but somehow it also felt like he was talking about himself. Probably not, but I'd file it away to revisit later when I want to fuel my delusions. "How's Carl doin'?"
"Better. The surgery looks like it was a success, thank god. I don't know what I would've done if we failed. Glad I won't have to." I rubbed my burning eyes. "How's T?"
"Saw him being stitched up, gettin' some antibiotics too."
"Good," I sighed, content that all my patients were doing alright. "Good."
"You guys were makin' me nervous, taking so long to get back."
"Sorry, we ran into some trouble. 'Overrun' was putting it mildly, apparently." He grimaced and so did I, as I stopped myself from saying 'we made it out though.' Not all of us did.
"What happened?" It was a general question, but the subtext was asking about Otis.
"I'm not totally sure… I got separated from them." Daryl tensed and I felt like I could read his mind. Shane left you? "It was no one's fault, just happened in the chaos. We were trapped in a gym without a clear path out. Shane wanted us to jump from a window, but Otis wouldn't fit. Plus, he knew of a locker room down some stairs that I thought would contain more medical supplies for the athletes. Otis and I ran, while Shane jumped. Otis got me out and told me to run while he bought me time, but I ran into another group of walkers and had to take off under a bus to hide. By the time I got out, it was just Shane."
I didn't say more, even though the whole situation didn't sit right with me. By the time Shane found me, he was acting weirder than usual– almost too cavalier about Otis. His story didn't fully make sense either, but that was a big accusation to make and I didn't want to allege anything without proof. However, I could see by his expression that it was Daryl's turn to read my mind. Still, he said nothing.
"Ah," I winced, opening and closing my right hand to stretch it. The muscles were seizing up, probably from overuse and a lack of electrolytes all day.
"What is it?"
"Nothing, I just gave blood while I had to keep squeezing this bag to keep Carl breathing and my hand is pissed about it. It'll go away." I took my left hand and weakly tried to rub the right one out. He looked at me, pressing his lips together, before holding his own palm out.
"C'mere."
I tentatively did as I was told, placing my hand face up in his. He used his thumbs to apply pressure to the palm and I almost moaned in pleasure. Rough and strong, he knew exactly where I needed his touch the most. A whimper slipped out when he hit an especially tender spot, making us both blush.
"Sorry," I laughed, "You're really good at that. This may be my new favorite skill of yours," I joked, earning me a small smirk.
"Yeah, yeah, don't get used to it," he grumbled, although he continued.
I scooted a little closer, laying my head on his shoulder to give him better access to my hand… or so I told myself. We sat quietly, listening to the crickets, as I reveled in his touch. He slowed his motions before he finally stopped, but kept hold of my palm in his hands. I let my eyes flutter shut again, fighting against how tired I was and losing the battle.
"Y'know, you were real impressive in there." And immediately, I was awake. A Daryl Dixon compliment? I must be dreaming. "I didn't understand half the words out of your mouth, but you looked…" he paused to try to find the right words, "Secure. Sure of yourself, like you knew exactly what to do." I could feel heat rush to my cheeks and hid my face in his shoulder, a hint of a smile quirking my mouth.
"Stop," I protested half-heartedly, both enjoying his positive attention and uncomfortable with how undeserving I felt for receiving it. "I'm sure it would be much less impressive if you knew what I was saying."
"Nah, m'serious. I can tell you were good at it– before. It was hard not to watch you." He was watching me? I had been so in the zone, I hadn't even realized he was still in the room. I covered my eyes with my left hand, shyly, and smiled before removing them and looking up at him.
"Well, thank you, but that's exactly how I feel about you when you're in your element– hunting, tracking, or even just walking around outside. So I guess on some level, I know what you mean."
It was his turn to look away shyly now, my favorite flush crawling up his neck to his cheeks before finally reaching his ears. With all of the events in the past twenty-four hours, I haven't even had time to think about our kiss. If I couldn't still feel his warm lips on mine and the taste of his tongue, I'd have thought I imagined it. The fact that he hasn't mentioned it probably means that it was something he wanted to forget– understandable, but disappointing. Raven astutely picked up on our awkward energy and moved to rest her head in my lap, looking up at both of us with curious, brown eyes.
"Has she worn you down yet?" I used my free hand to rub her ears back.
"Nah, not really. I did like that she seems to want to look out for ya though, makes me think she might protect you if ya needed it." My heart warmed and swelled. Maybe it was from being overtired, but a compliment, hand massage, and hearing Daryl saying he liked someone watching out for me was enough to make me want to start giggling like a schoolgirl. All day, he'd been so sweet– offering T-Dog Merle's antibiotics without hesitation, driving me here immediately to help Carl, spending all his time out in the woods finding Sophia. What had been a small crush was quickly snowballing out of control. Get a grip.
"I think you two will really like each other, you just have to give her a chance."
Cautiously, I took my right hand– which was still being held by him, by the way– and gently grabbed one of his, before slowly moving it towards Raven. I took my time, wanting to give him the opportunity to pull away, but he didn't. I held his knuckles out in front of her nose, which she sniffed, before looking at him expectantly. Now or never. Soft as a feather, I placed his hand on her head. She was a model dog, sitting still and letting him do whatever he needed to do to feel comfortable. He eased into petting her and smiling to myself, I thought, they're going to be best friends. I let my eyes shut again, putting my head back on his shoulder and inhaling his earthy, smoky scent.
"Thanks for bringing her here," I murmured, on the edge of consciousness.
"Glenn brought her in the truck," he countered gruffly.
"Mm, maybe… but you made it happen." I was sure of it. And with that, I was asleep.
Random question but does the verb tense piss anyone off? Considering going back and changing everything to be present tense but not sure if anyone cares but me.