Scraping By, Chapter 10: Speed Bump
Title: Scraping By
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Rating: M
Disclaimer: All rights for The Walking Dead go to Robert Kirkman and AMC. This story takes place strictly in the TV show 'verse.
Author's Note: They say "write what you know." And I sure as hell know about knee injuries.
Chapter 10: Speed Bump
Whitney had been unconscious for the five miles it took them to catch up with the others but woke when Shane stopped the Jeep. She tried to move on her own, but Glenn still had a decent grip on her arms and wouldn't let her shift enough.
After Shane jostled her knee, she was glad for the younger man's support. Pain shot all the way up through her hip and Whitney shouted a fairly inventive string of curses.
Between the three of them, Shane, Glenn, and Daryl carried her inside the RV. They got her settled in the small bed in the back and Zeke immediately abandoned his new post beside Sophia and Carl to smell Whitney's shaking hands. He whined pitifully and crawled on the bed with her as carefully as a dog his size could. Lori and Carol handed the children off to Andrea and set to making Whitney more comfortable.
Shane and Glenn sat in the chairs the women vacated. Daryl, on the other hand, slid to the floor and buried his face in his hands.
It felt like his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. He didn't care for the sensation at all. He was so intent on trying to stop feeling altogether that he missed Rick coming in and having a conversation with Shane about what happened.
One minute he was remembering Whitney's face as she fell and the next his vision filled with Rick sitting on his heels in front of him.
"Y'alright?" he asked.
Daryl dropped his hands in his lap and stared incredulously at the former deputy. "The hell kinda question is that? Am I alright? Fuck's sake…" he trailed off and rolled his eyes.
Rick held his hands up in surrender and kept on staring at the man in front of him. "I'm just askin' 'cause you look about as pale as a ghost. That's quite a feat considerin' how sunburnt you are."
Daryl sighed and realized he would be unable to get out of the scrutiny he was bearing. He cast a look to the back of the RV and watched Carol break a chemical icepack for Whitney's knee. Lori was gathering up several different painkillers and opening a new bottle of water for her. Whitney looked awful.
He kept hearing the noise her knee made before she fell. The harsh, wet bone-on-bone sound kept repeating in his head. Daryl didn't think he'd ever heard anything quite as disturbing as that.
"I may've seen my fair share of messed up shit since this all started, but that… Have you ever seen someone's knee pop outta socket? Heard it?"
The worst part about Rick's expression was the genuine concern in his eyes. He felt a little less out of sorts when he saw Shane and Glenn's faces. They looked about as bad as he felt.
"Sorry, Daryl," Rick shifted back onto his feet and turned to address the entire group. "We need to keep moving. There's a spot to stop in about three exits."
Daryl was the last person to start leaving the RV and nearly jumped out of his own skin when Zeke surprised him with a cold snout on the elbow as he was exiting.
"C'mon, mutt," he grumbled and the dog trotted toward his truck and hopped in the front seat.
Daryl went back to the old standby of chewing the hell out of his thumbnail as he waited for the caravan to start moving. As he shifted into gear, he found himself talking out loud to the dog in the seat next to him.
"I don't fuckin' know what to do," he murmured.
Zeke yawned.
Daryl smacked the steering wheel. "I just… I don't like feelin' like this! Fuckin' useless."
It dawned on him after a moment of silence. "God damn it. I'm talkin' to a dog."
He scoffed at himself and went back to chewing his nails for the lack of having a cigarette to smoke in order to calm down.
Chapter 9: Urgent Care | Chapter 11: Floating
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Rating: M
Disclaimer: All rights for The Walking Dead go to Robert Kirkman and AMC. This story takes place strictly in the TV show 'verse.
Author's Note: They say "write what you know." And I sure as hell know about knee injuries.
Chapter 10: Speed Bump
Whitney had been unconscious for the five miles it took them to catch up with the others but woke when Shane stopped the Jeep. She tried to move on her own, but Glenn still had a decent grip on her arms and wouldn't let her shift enough.
After Shane jostled her knee, she was glad for the younger man's support. Pain shot all the way up through her hip and Whitney shouted a fairly inventive string of curses.
Between the three of them, Shane, Glenn, and Daryl carried her inside the RV. They got her settled in the small bed in the back and Zeke immediately abandoned his new post beside Sophia and Carl to smell Whitney's shaking hands. He whined pitifully and crawled on the bed with her as carefully as a dog his size could. Lori and Carol handed the children off to Andrea and set to making Whitney more comfortable.
Shane and Glenn sat in the chairs the women vacated. Daryl, on the other hand, slid to the floor and buried his face in his hands.
It felt like his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. He didn't care for the sensation at all. He was so intent on trying to stop feeling altogether that he missed Rick coming in and having a conversation with Shane about what happened.
One minute he was remembering Whitney's face as she fell and the next his vision filled with Rick sitting on his heels in front of him.
"Y'alright?" he asked.
Daryl dropped his hands in his lap and stared incredulously at the former deputy. "The hell kinda question is that? Am I alright? Fuck's sake…" he trailed off and rolled his eyes.
Rick held his hands up in surrender and kept on staring at the man in front of him. "I'm just askin' 'cause you look about as pale as a ghost. That's quite a feat considerin' how sunburnt you are."
Daryl sighed and realized he would be unable to get out of the scrutiny he was bearing. He cast a look to the back of the RV and watched Carol break a chemical icepack for Whitney's knee. Lori was gathering up several different painkillers and opening a new bottle of water for her. Whitney looked awful.
He kept hearing the noise her knee made before she fell. The harsh, wet bone-on-bone sound kept repeating in his head. Daryl didn't think he'd ever heard anything quite as disturbing as that.
"I may've seen my fair share of messed up shit since this all started, but that… Have you ever seen someone's knee pop outta socket? Heard it?"
The worst part about Rick's expression was the genuine concern in his eyes. He felt a little less out of sorts when he saw Shane and Glenn's faces. They looked about as bad as he felt.
"Sorry, Daryl," Rick shifted back onto his feet and turned to address the entire group. "We need to keep moving. There's a spot to stop in about three exits."
Daryl was the last person to start leaving the RV and nearly jumped out of his own skin when Zeke surprised him with a cold snout on the elbow as he was exiting.
"C'mon, mutt," he grumbled and the dog trotted toward his truck and hopped in the front seat.
Daryl went back to the old standby of chewing the hell out of his thumbnail as he waited for the caravan to start moving. As he shifted into gear, he found himself talking out loud to the dog in the seat next to him.
"I don't fuckin' know what to do," he murmured.
Zeke yawned.
Daryl smacked the steering wheel. "I just… I don't like feelin' like this! Fuckin' useless."
It dawned on him after a moment of silence. "God damn it. I'm talkin' to a dog."
He scoffed at himself and went back to chewing his nails for the lack of having a cigarette to smoke in order to calm down.
Chapter 9: Urgent Care | Chapter 11: Floating