A/N: Written for TWD kink meme: I would assume that Daryl's still feeling the effects of his tumble down the hill and getting jabbed in the side while going through the events of the s2 finale. I'd love to see something where, in all the mayhem, running around, shooting, Carol holding onto him on the bike (which probably hurt like a bitch), he pops some stitches. His side is bleeding throughout everything but he doesn't say anything 'cause he doesn't want to be a burden. But then he collapses in camp. Anyone (Rick, Carol...) or all to his rescue. Don't worry I'm still working on everything else I'm writing. PLEASE NOTE: this is currently a GEN story but it may become a Daryl/Rick fic. Please let me know your opinion on the matter.

This was not run by my BETA so all mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I do not own. All rights go to Robert Kirkman, Frank Darabont, and all others involved. Obviously I'm NOT involved.

Push It Down

Everything was chaos; people were screaming, walkers were everywhere and the barn was on fire. Crossbow in hand Daryl ran as fast as he could to his motorcycle, barely noticing the way his stitches pulled painfully at his left side. The others were behind him in their own vehicles but he ignored them focusing solely on the roar of his bike and the task at hand: kill as many of those undead mother fuckers as possible and get out alive. Because Merle was larger than him the reach for the handlebars was always slightly uncomfortable but when he gripped the rubber handles Daryl felt something warm coating his skin and a dull ache begin to take over his abdomen. When a walker appeared in front of him Daryl had no further time to contemplate his pain, instead he shouldered his crossbow and wielded a handgun, shooting the geek right between the eyes.

Daryl drove a relatively safe distance away from the horde of geeks, balanced the bike and stood to take aim. His aim was still perfect even though his crossbow was currently benched, echoes of the others shooting pounding in Daryl's ears. Over the strange buzzing in his ears Daryl could hear Lori screaming about something, probably Carl, and he chanced a look around to see if he could spot the dumb kid. A growl to his right had Daryl jerking quickly and it was only after the walker was on the ground that he recognized the searing pain in his side as the telltale sign of torn stitches. He didn't have time to truly evaluate the damage but when he slipped a hand under his shirt Daryl's hand came away bloody. The redneck cursed to himself and reloaded, trying not to pay attention to the way his hands shook. He clenched them once, twice, and the shaking stopped but it took all of Daryl's willpower to shoot accurately.

When Daryl saw the others begin to drive off he decided it was as good a time as any to make his hasty escape. He kicked the bike back to life, the low rumble relaxing and reassuring, and drove off stopping only when he was far enough away from the battleground to not be seen by any stray walkers. He stood there, bike balanced between his legs and watched the place they had considered a safe haven crumble to nothing but a nightmare. The fire from the barn would probably spread and the walkers would most likely remain there for some time making it impossible to return. Daryl was just about to turn around and make his way back to where they left supplies for Sophia when he heard screaming; desperate, pleading familiar screaming. So Daryl went towards the pleas to find Carol running halfheartedly away from a group of geeks following her. The woman looked exhausted, her step uneven and her face covered in sweat. When she saw Daryl she looked as though she has seen an angel.

"Come on, I ain't got all day!" Daryl barked as Carol clumsily sat behind him on the bike.

As soon as she put her arms around his waist Daryl felt the air leave his lungs. The pressure was almost too much to handle and the ache in his whole upper body was back full force but he pushed the pain down and away and kept moving. The upward stretch of his arm was excruciating but with an extra passenger on the bike Daryl didn't dare ride one-handed so he grit his teeth and focused on the road. It was dawn and the roads were foggy, navigating was proving to be difficult especially when they came upon a small gathering of geeks. Instead of trying to kill them Daryl rode around the rotting bodies, kicking out his left leg when he had to make a sharp turn. The motion pulled his entire left side and he grunted in pain, grateful for the noise of the motorcycle to hide his discomfort from Carol. He didn't need anyone worrying about him at a time like this.

Up ahead Daryl saw tail lights weaving about on the road and pushed forward to see who it was. Once he was even with the driver's side window Daryl was pleased to see a shaken up but grinning Glenn looking at him and pointing forward. Daryl took the lead, almost happy when he heard another vehicle pull up behind Glenn and Maggie. They rode over a particularly nasty bump which made Carol tighten her arms so much Daryl couldn't help the yelp that escaped his lips. Carol loosened her hold, obviously she had heard him, and peeked her head forward to look at Daryl's face. Daryl turned his head away from her searching eyes and willed his body to relax. Finally their destination was in sight and Carol was off the bike before he even had a chance to turn it off. Daryl took a moment to regain his composure, taking a few deep breaths and focusing on anything but the pain.

"Where'd you find everyone?" He heard Rick ask. His voice was kind of hazy.

"He had his taillights zigzagging all over the road. Figured he had to be Asian driving like that." Daryl nodded his head at Glenn attempting to use humor to distract from the blood he felt slowly caking his side.

"Good one," Glenn said, smile wide and bright.

Daryl stopped listening after that. He excused himself claiming to need to piss but as soon as he was out of sight Daryl pulled his shirt up and saw his entire torso soaked in blood. The stitches were nonexistent at that point and his wound was open and ugly. Hastily Daryl took his vest and jacket off, tossing it on the leafy ground. With practiced ease Daryl used his buck knife to cut the sleeves from his shirt, tying them together to wrap around his stomach and act as a makeshift bandage. It wasn't perfect, nor was it sanitary but for now it would do. Someone called his name, probably Rick, and when he put his jacket back on he walked back to camp acting as though nothing was wrong. Rick pulled him to the side speaking in hushed tones but Daryl was only picking up about every other word. Everything was fading in and out and Daryl had to shake his head to clear the cobwebs.

"You alright?" Rick asked at the uncharacteristic motion.

"'M fine," Daryl insisted. He could see Carol looking down at her arms and back at him.

A/N: Please review and let me know what you think! More to come soon.