TWD Drabble - Scars
Title: Scars
Prompt: Combat Medic
Flavor: The Walking Dead
Characters: Carol Peletier + Daryl Dixon
Rating: K+
Word Count: 269
A/N 1: Takes place between season 2 + 3. Sequel of Wounds.
A/N 2: With beta help of severina2001.
“Don’t move,” Carol admonished, looking up from a fresh drop of blood which formed at one stitch of the suture material to Daryl’s face. “If you keep wiggling around like that you’re going to make me slip and cut you.”
"It's cold, lady," Daryl hissed, hugging his bare chest. It was only a few degrees over the freezing point in the storage sheds they used as shelter for the last week.
"It will take only a few minutes," Carol replied, and rolled her eyes. She needed to work on her doc/patient skills. The dead were easier to handle.
Interaction, Carol reminded herself. She sat in front of Daryl who rested onto a table, his legs dangled. With one hand on his knee, Carol showed him the scissors and tweezers she would use to take out the stitches.
Carol worked quickly but with concentrated. With pride she beheld her work. There wouldn't be much scaring.
"Looking good. Your body mended quickly."
"Pfff." Daryl’s eyes had remained fixed in the distance as she pricked and prodded at the stitches, but now he looked down at his arm. "Yeah, could be."
"There will be only a thin scar," Carol said encouragingly.
"I don't care. One more or less. Stopped counting years ago."
Carol cleaned the long pink mark with a disinfection cloth, leaving a light strip on dirty skin before she covered it with a big band-aid. "Try at least not to make the wound dirty."
Daryl snorted as answer, combining the sound with a 'REALLY?' gaze. But seeing Carol's worried face he eased and nodded in agreement. "I'll try my best."
Prompt: Combat Medic
Flavor: The Walking Dead
Characters: Carol Peletier + Daryl Dixon
Rating: K+
Word Count: 269
A/N 1: Takes place between season 2 + 3. Sequel of Wounds.
A/N 2: With beta help of severina2001.
“Don’t move,” Carol admonished, looking up from a fresh drop of blood which formed at one stitch of the suture material to Daryl’s face. “If you keep wiggling around like that you’re going to make me slip and cut you.”
"It's cold, lady," Daryl hissed, hugging his bare chest. It was only a few degrees over the freezing point in the storage sheds they used as shelter for the last week.
"It will take only a few minutes," Carol replied, and rolled her eyes. She needed to work on her doc/patient skills. The dead were easier to handle.
Interaction, Carol reminded herself. She sat in front of Daryl who rested onto a table, his legs dangled. With one hand on his knee, Carol showed him the scissors and tweezers she would use to take out the stitches.
Carol worked quickly but with concentrated. With pride she beheld her work. There wouldn't be much scaring.
"Looking good. Your body mended quickly."
"Pfff." Daryl’s eyes had remained fixed in the distance as she pricked and prodded at the stitches, but now he looked down at his arm. "Yeah, could be."
"There will be only a thin scar," Carol said encouragingly.
"I don't care. One more or less. Stopped counting years ago."
Carol cleaned the long pink mark with a disinfection cloth, leaving a light strip on dirty skin before she covered it with a big band-aid. "Try at least not to make the wound dirty."
Daryl snorted as answer, combining the sound with a 'REALLY?' gaze. But seeing Carol's worried face he eased and nodded in agreement. "I'll try my best."