Starting Over

When you arrived back at the prison everyone was already in the yard waiting for your return. Looking at the sun you realize you'd been gone a lot longer than planned. They were all so worried that they already had a car ready to go looking for you.

The sight of their relieved faces actually brought an unfamiliar ache to your chest and you found yourself smiling back at them.

"We were so scared that something happened. Thank God you're alright." Carol croaked out before closing you in a tight embrace.

You nervously chuckled from the contact, "We're fine Carol. Nothing can kill Daryl Dixon."

A few more people laugh at your comment as they converge around the two of you. "Matter o' fact, Daryl here saved my ass too many times." You exclaimed as you clapped your hand on his shoulder.

When you absentmindedly put more pressure than intended on your left ankle you winced from the sharpness. Daryl notices and quickly grabs hold of your arm to steady you, and you manage a smile up at him.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" You could see the obvious strain on young Carl's face as he thought of the worst scenario.

"I'm fine, just a twisted ankle."

Everyone seemed to let out a breath of relief when you clarified you weren't bitten. By this time you realized Daryl was still holding onto you, and you couldn't help but feel affected by the closeness.

You suddenly make it urgent to Hershel that you need bandaging while you inch away from Daryl. "I should get this wrapped up. Can someone help me to my cell?"

"I will." You internally scream when Daryl steps up to grab you again. "No, Daryl. You need to rest. Start carving those arrows." He doesn't seem to take the joke as his expression doesn't waver.

Thankfully, Carol helps you out before the silence gets more awkward. You hadn't even been back for ten minutes, and you knew things were definitely going to be different.

I knew I shouldn't have thrown my fucking self at him!

"You sure you're okay? You don't look so good." Carol asked while supporting your weight. She always knew when something wasn't right, especially when you clearly gave it away with your thinking face.

"I'm really not sure Carol. I'll tell you about it later." You confide as you enter your cell. Carol simply nods in understanding and leaves without another word after helping you to the bed.

Almost as soon as she left Hershel entered with Glenn behind him carrying first-aid supplies. "Let's take a look at that ankle, shall we?"

Hershel's kind demeanor always made you feel more comfortable and as if he was the grandfather that took care of the whole group. You were glad to have him whenever you suffered those serious injuries a while back.

"So, how long do I have to stay off of it Doc?" You asked half-cheeredly when he finished wrapping the swollen flesh.
"Since I know there's no way you'd stay in bed even if I told ya to, I have another crutch you can use. It's sturdy, but you still need to take it easy. A sprained ankle doesn't heal if ya walk all over it."

Glenn couldn't hold the chuckle in as Hershel stated the obvious. "Of course I'm not staying tied to this bed for a week. I've got work to do around here." Hershel merely waves his head side to side as he walks past Glenn out of the cell.

"Glad you're alright Y/N. We couldn't live without you." Glenn's statement seems to stab at your chest before he too walks out leaving you alone.

Lying back on the bed, you prop your tender ankle on a pillow and breath out. What was happening to you?

The longer you stayed with this group the weaker that boundary you put up got, and you were really starting to think that it was almost completely destroyed at this point.

Now that you had accepted what Daryl meant to you, it was only a matter of time before you thought of the group as actual family. It was getting harder day by day, but it seemed that getting emotionally attached was inevitable since you see them everyday. And not to mention how awkward it's going to be with Daryl from now on.

"You sleepin'?" The sound of Daryl's gruff voice almost immediately rises a reaction from your body. You curse yourself for it and turn your head to see the bastard casually leaning against the cell door with his arms crossed.

Damn it, Daryl. Why must you do this to me?

The sight was practically torture to your eyes as he stood with flexed muscles still dripping with sweat and tight jeaned legs crossed in just the right way. That sleeveless shirt was doing wonders for his physique too, but there was no way you'd tell him that.

"Shouldn't you be making some arrows, Dixon?" You nonchalantly retort before turning your head back and throwing an arm over your eyes. You don't know what you'd do if you had to stare at that any longer.

Then you could hear the faintest sound of him walking closer making your breathing instantly start to speed up. If he had any idea what he did to you, he wouldn't come anywhere near you.

"I came to check up on ya. How's the foot?" You practically wanted to punch yourself at this point as you felt the weight adjusting at the end of your bed. What the hell was he thinking right now?

"It's fine." You manage to mumble as you try to steady your rapid heart. Daryl merely makes the usual grunting noise and adjusts his position on the hard mattress.

After a solid five minutes of silence you decide to remove your arm and see what he wants. "Anything else?"

Daryl's head shoots up to your face so fast you think he has whiplash. Those beautiful blue eyes stare back at you as though he was caught stealing a cookie while you look at him with your eyebrow raised.

"Uh, hello?" He finally blinks when you wave your hand in front of his face and then looks down at his dirty hands. "Did you need anything?" You ask a bit confused toward his behavior.

"N-no. Jus' came to check up on ya. I better get back to the group. They're talkin' 'bout the fight with the Governor." Ok, now you were really confused, but also intrigued. In all of the time you have known Daryl he has never stuttered once.

You were about to ask about it but got caught up with the mention of the Governor. "Well, I'll go too. I need to hear whatever it is."

Daryl jumps up before you can even sit up, "No. You needta rest. I'll fill ya in on whatever it is lader." Then he was gone. He left without anything else and you just stared at the empty doorway.

"What the fuck?" You whisper to yourself before closing your eyes once more to give into a very confused thinking process that eventually lead to a deep sleep.