I am n o t
broken implies that I can be f i x e d
and darling, I r e g r e t to inform you:
nothing can fix me}
Boredom had struck not too long after he’d woken up in the middle of the afternoon following Andrea shooting him in the head. With Herschel-ordered bedrest and nothing better to do, Daryl lay in a cot outside with the others, whittling away a piece of wood. It wasn’t much, and he wasn’t terribly creative, but as much as he had done of the head, the duck shape was obvious. Annoyed, and still bored, he tossed the thing into the yard with a huff.
Emma jumped slightly as the wooden duck landed next to her, looking at the carving in slight confusion. She hadn’t seen him throw it, but had a feeling that it belonged to the redneck who’d been injured the day before.
She stood quickly, approaching the cot the man was laying on with the wooden duck in her hands. She wasn’t quite sure why he’d thrown the duck - she thought it was good - but she supposed she was about to find out.
"I’m guessing this is yours?"
“Don’t touch me.”
"I-I’m sorry," Emma stuttered, stepping away from the man when she realized he was still conscious. She’d seen him lying there with a large gash on his arm and thought that he’d passed out from blood loss….
Emma couldn’t help but scoff as Daryl stumbled to his feet, blood still dripping from his wound. She was fine with leaving the man alone - she didn’t know him, anyways - but she wasn’t about to leave him to die because he wouldn’t let her help him.
"Look, I’m completely fine with leaving you to wander this zombie-infested world alone," she said, pulling a roll of clean bandages from her backpack. She hadn’t had any use for them yet, so she might as well give them to someone who did.
"But don’t fucking tell me that you don’t need my help when you look like you’re about to drop dead and try to eat me the next time you wake up."
A = Awesome! You’re amazing! Are you even real??
B = Pretty badass. Keep it up.
C = Not bad, not bad. Room for improvement, but I like it.
D = The efforts there, but you need more practice. But don’t give up!
F = Have you ever sat through an language class before?
"No use lying, I suppose. ‘M not really okay right now. But it’s impossible to be okay all the time, ain’t it? Sometimes ya crack. Sometimes it gets too much."
"That’s true," Emma said quickly, taking a seat next to the Doctor and offering him a sympathetic smile. She knew quite well what he was talking about, for there were plenty of days where all of the bad things had just come crashing down on her.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
He sighed. “Not much, unless you can erase foreknowledge from my brain. Actually, I have a machine in the TARDIS that can do that. Problem is, it turns me human for a long time and I don’t know if I can ever get back.”
"Well, have you used it before?" Emma asked, a bit curious about this machine if it could turn him human. She wasn’t sure how much different he would be as a human, but she did know that she didn’t like seeing the Doctor so down.
"Because then we might be able to figure out a way to turn you back again."