#daryl slow burn

[daryladdixonn]

i know i didn’t give that many options but i’m still thinking of ideas!! let me know if you have any!!

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

[misguidedasgardian]

Wild Cats (Part XI)

XI. Like animals

MASTERLIST

Summary: The journey was getting rough

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, angst, confrontation, these are idiots in love and they don’t know it!, might miss some warnings 

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: I feel like this is a filler chapter, but believe me, they have to be "up and running" by the time they get to Alexandria (Spoilers (?)). And things will get rougher later on jeje

You could barely look at Daryl

He had seen a lot of you, and his reaction was… not good, so now you avoid him as much as you could, like he was the plague. And to make matters worse? he seemed to be avoiding you too.

It was sad, you had gotten accustomed to his presence near you, it had begun to soothe you, to have him around, but… not anymore… you were terrified. You had crossed a line and you didn’t know how to go back, you might as well just flashed him. And you didn’t know how to go back to where you were… perhaps if you saw him in a compromising position…

You shook your head, feeling your cheeks heated

That might not help… As you found him devastatingly handsome 

You believed you had lost your power, as he saw you in such a… vulnerable position.

And to make things worse? he looked away like he was horrified of the very sight

You were no beauty queen but you never thought of yourself so horrifying as to draw that reaction from him

Now you were feeling self-conscious in the damn apocalypse.

You looked at the women in the group… Maggie, Rosita, Sasha, Tara… they were stunning, model material. You got the luck to be in the same group as women that look like they just stoped rolling a fucking movie… And then there was you… that had Daryl turning away at your almost naked sight 

You drew a shaky breath

You felt so embarrassed you wanted to cry

You felt so ashamed, well it wasn’t your fault, you had been careless, and he saw you in that way, but he reacted so poorly, you found him so devastatingly handsome, and he looked away from you in horror…. 

So, to distract yourself, you watched them all walking ahead of you, Daryl had taken an alternative route, to hunt or to do who knows what. Lucky for you. So you tried to think about something else… anything else really

You could tell the group was a bit reluctant to leave the little paradise you had found, but you took everything that might serve you, marked it real good on a map, thinking you might come back, and then, you left after three days there.

Against all odds you were not more energetic, you were in fact more… tired… like you had ran out of hope this was going to get better than what you found there. Beth’s and Noah’s excitement was not as contagious as they believe it was, it wore off quite quickly. But they were leading the group on the way to Noah’s home

What if it was outrun by the dead?

You believed this was a thought that was in all of their minds, but nobody dared to say it outloud.

You kept walking, since you couldn’t find any cars nearby, or anywhere

Your feet were bleeding, a couple of blisters torturing your steps. You always liked walking… but not like this.

And your hypoglycemic rage returned quicker than you thought.

A chain was only as strong as his weakest link, and you couldn’t be the weakest link, so you just kept your mouth shut and kept walking.

You couldn’t believe your boots were betraying you like this, you couldn’t believe you had abandoned those houses, after you found water and food and comfortable beds for everyone. You slept in a kid’s room, but still. With Daryl across the hallway, and Carol in the other room next to yours. You still managed to get a bit of sleep, even with such unlikely bedfellows 

In your road-daze, you began to detach from Daryl, from whatever it was it was forming between you, you started to “mourn” him, he did not show any intentions of pretending he didn’t see anything three days ago, and besides that, Carol was lurking about like a hawk, and she had shown clear signs of hating your guts, and he was completely devoted to her, so yeah… you would be better off getting away from Daryl as fast as you could

you didn’t even notice when Rick was walking right beside you

“Why don’t you go and find Daryl?”, he asked

“I don’t wanna”, you said quickly, without even thinking, Rick looked at you weirdly 

“You are the one that always seems to find Daryl the quickest”, he said simply. You did not want to seem like a spoiled child, but you couldn’t help but feel like one when Rick spoke to you sometimes, you didn’t understand it, the reason behind it.

“I’ll check the surroundings”, you said convinced, going into the forest

“He went the other way!”, you heard at your back.

It was colder in the woods, something you appreciated, you separated from the group not to find Daryl, but to see if you could find something interesting like he was doing

If you wanted to “separate” from the archer you started thinking that you must find a way to learn to hunt, you needed to get a hold of a bow or something, but again, one of the ones that could help you… was him

In your view, this wasn’t a good idea, you were going to need twice as fast if you wanted to take a lap and reach the group further on, and you were walking away from them almost in a straight line… You weren’t good at this, what if you got lost?

So you started walking in a parallel line as the road 

The softer terrain gave you a bit of a relief on your poor feet 

The woods were so beautiful like this, in this autumn light, and calm, with no walkers on sight, and just the soft sounds of the wind going through the trees, it was beautiful. 

Soon, you reached a clearing, when the sunlight passed uninterrupted 

It was like a fairy trap, the light wans the colors where breathtaking, soon, as your eyes adjusted and you took everything in with a deep breath… there he was… like a vision. The wings on his vest had seen better days, but he, in all his glory, was placed in that scenery like he had been painted there, a fallen angel, dropped to earth in the middle of the apocalypse. 

All the things you had thought about him just flew out of your mind, like they were carried away by the winds, you did not want to avoid him, you did not want to separate from him, you wanted him near you, like he had been the last weeks and since you met him.

“Why are you always lurking around?”, he asked when he heard your steps, he didn’t even need to look at you to see it was you. He broke the spell as soon as it was casted by you, and soon you came to the realization of what you were thinking about him before… the bubble burst.

“Rick send me, he wanted to make sure you were alright”, you said softly, he only mumbled something and kept walking

“I’m sorry”, you blurred out, you didn’t want him to walk out on you, you didn’t

“For what?”, he asked grumpily, turning towards you

“The other day, I didn’t check the room, and I as well flashed you…”, it made no sense, your apology

He turned away from you, annoyed, giving you a sense that you might be onto something for apologizing

“I feel like I ruined something”, you explained, walking towards him. You weren’t that close, but you liked the dynamic you had set in between the both of you

“Ya didn't”, he said, without even turning to face you

“You can’t even look me in the eye”, you said, trying to reach him, “I don’t want things to be awkward between us…”, You saw how his shoulders tense when he felt you behind him, and then as he took a long exasperated breath, they lowered. 

“Of all the remaining women in the world, why did it have to be you!?”, he asked

“Hey!”, you whined, “why the drive by?”, he grunted, he finally released you, grabbing his hair in exasperation

“Why can’t you understand it!?”, he asked, as he was frustrated with you, and apparently, with the situation at hand. He finally turned to you, eliminating the distance between you, you didn’t even move, he placed his hands on the side of your face, you believed he tried to cradle your cheeks but they were so big they covered the side of your face almost completely. As his blue eyed looked at you, he wasn’t angry, he seemed frustrated. You must have looked a bit scared, as he released you, lowering his hand down to your shoulders

“Explain me then”, you said softly, this is the second time he had said this to you

He couldn’t hold it any longer, he eliminated the distance between you, cradling your face on his big hands, he leaned in and trapped your mouth with his. He devoured you, consumed you, that is how it felt like….

“I wanna to fuck you so bad I became an asshole”, he mumbled against your lips.

“Fuck me then”, you answered back.

Daryl shook his head, wiping those dirty thoughts of you

You were standing there, waiting for hsi answer

“I…”, he had to say something, or you would walk away, he already realized you were avoiding him, as he was you.

He looked into your eyes, his stance relaxed, his gaze softened… 

“I….”, he sounded like an idiot, he thought, he couldn’t say a coherent word, “I don’ understand it maself”, he mumbled. You were going to walk away, he truly believed you would… But you stayed put, you were truly curious 

You shook your head

“I have done nothing but try to be as helpful and useful as I can”, you said angrily, “I don’t deserve to be treated like this, not by you, or by anyone!”, you demanded.

And there you were, walking away from him.

You didn’t have to listen to this madness, you didn’t need to. You didn’t understand this either, what was this about? Why would he say that to you?

But soon, you felt his big warm hand grabbing your forearm

“Don wanna make it weird”, he said, you looked back at him, he seemed truly concerned, maybe he didn’t know what he felt or thought, as did you… you felt something towards him, something more than finding him wildly handsome… something else…

“Me neither”, you offered, your body relaxing onto his hold, “I care for you Daryl”, you managed to admit, almost encouraging him, to ease him

“Yeah, me too”, he said finally, “I care about ya”, you both let out long breaths, “maybe that’s why I’m an asshole with ya”, he admitted then, “I don’t want ya getting hurt or bitten”

You smiled

“I’ll do better then”

“Ya, mee too”, when he released your arm, your fingers touched, it was a second, a single second, and it gave you goosebumps all over… a soft tingling remained in the tips.

“Let’s go back to the group”, you suggested softly 

Rick was actually surprised when you showed up with the archer, as you too thought he wasn’t going to return with you. You were conflicted now, you as much wanted to jump the ship, but one simple word from him made you want to stick around him even more.

And you kept walking… and walking, and walking

Hours turn to days, threatening to turn to weeks, you couldn’t find anything good enough like the ones you found, only runned down stores and almost destroyed houses… and no working cars

You didn’t know if this was a good omen or bad.

You were sitting around a fire at night, youw ere speaking to Tara and Rosita, when Daryl returned from his small hunting expedition

He catches you staring, so you only smile at him. He took it as a sign, and sat by your side

“How was your lap?”, you asked him, smiling widely at him, he stared at you, with his serious face, nad nodded

“Good”, it’s the only thing he said, but he seemed relaxed, so you felt happy. “Found somethin”

“What is it?”, you asked

“A big warehouse”, he said simply.

“Why didn’t you take us?”, you asked. You looked all over the group, you had found a run down cabin, but big enough for the whole set of you. 

“We are all tired”, he said simply, “Don’t know what in there”

“Good point”, you whispered. 

His presence by your side gave you warmth, against the cool autumn evening, 

After that pseudo confession of yours, your relationship, or whatever it was… was better, he didn’t snap at you anymore, he was kinder, and in turn, that made you more relaxed, more focused, you didn’t go around tripping and making mistakes. 

He seemed… happy and content, you often catched yourself watching him, taking care of all the group, he was always vigilant, of everybody, or at least, his old group

He seemed to be the one that was always constant on his mood, and quiet optimism.

The rest of the group? not so much

Rick was only holding on for his kids, but you could tell he was hanging by a thread, the fear of being adrift in the middle of the rise of the dead, with nowhere to go, not knowing what will appear before you. 

Adn Carl… snapped often at his father, but remained close to the thick of the group, always.

And the tensions amongst the group where growing thick

Abraham was a ticking time bomb, the deceit had hit him HARD, as he had made this his life mission and apparently, they had lost a bunch of people on their trip, so he was taking it hard. Rosita tried to cool him down and as far from Eugene as possible,  even though it was strange, you kept seeing them as a unit.

Sasha was taking the loss of Bob pretty hard, and you understood her, to find someone in the end of the world to have him taken from you. But she had Tyresse, her brother, he was still here, and he, was proven to be the heart of the group

He tried to keep it together, and his calmness was washing over the rest of you. He called himself a pacifist who hasn’t killed anyone and didn't want to, he hardly killed walkers too.

Beth and Noah where as good as teenagers, they drifted off occasionally, wide-eyed and being optimists… weirdly… so was Maggie and Glenn, who believed themselves to be lucky, as they found one another again, against all odds, in this sick world we live in, they tried to keep it together, as if they were in their own bubble.

Carol and MIchone… where Carol and Michonne… very vigilant, nothing ever scaped them, always on guard for possible dangers…

Tara, as well as you, didn’t quite got where you fit into all of these, in fact, you often wondered 

Gabriel was being… odd, as he used to be. You didn’t  have anything against priests, but this one… you did not like at all, you didn’t trust him, and it seemed like he didn’t even want to be here in the first place, so you didn’t understand what he was doing here. He seemed to believe you were the worst kind of people alive, he looked at you like you were… devils walking the earth or something. 

You were a colorful bunch.

“What do you think is in DC?”, you asked Daryl quietly, for nobody to hear but himself

“Dunno”, he answered back, “Somethin better”, he said, with a bit of hopefulness in his voice. You looked at him, his face lit up by the flames of the small bonfire you had set, his sharp eyes almost hidden by his hair.

You were all tired of fighting, of walking, of not knowing what was going to happen the next day, if you were going to find food or not… iif Daryl could hunt enough squirrels to feed you all.

Even you, even if you had the archer by your side, were a bit scared… of not knowing… What if DC was a huge hole after someone nuked it? What if it was gone? What if the only ones left were the dead and that is where you were heading? A huge trap.

The road had let you fall into your own head, thing you had tried to avoid in the damn apocalypse, when to had to kill things that used to be humans to survive… but now it was inevitable, you were retracing your own steps in your mind, even going as far as to start thinking about your family… in a whole another continent… You were starting to regret… and that could not be. 

You shook where you stood. Daryl seemed to notice

“Ya alrigh?”, he asked 

“Yeah”, you muttered, but the only thing you could think of was your family. If they made it, if they are alright… some of them need meds for living…

You sat there, in a comfortable silence, until it was your time to catch a bit of sleep

The next day… you found two cars in that warehouse… 

PCN: Sorry if I'm dragging this along... but like I said.... were are laying the base for them 🤍 For someone to knock them down HAHAHA

taglist 🤍 @crazyunsexycool

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Shame on a plate

Happy St. Patrick's Day, slowpokes!

When -- several minutes after Stuck in a damn bed. , after Shane blew up, and you found out that not only Dale, but Maggie saw, too.

What -- Sophia's still missing, Daryl and Carl have one more day in the house on bed rest, and you're dealing with the aftermath of your big brother Shane's actions in the previous chapter and the fact that others saw. The biggest thing you feel is shame.

Relationships -- Found family you and the gang! Lol, always a slow burn Daryl x Reader, there's also some platonic Glenn, brotherly Rick, and Maggie gets protective her new friend (you), and Papa Dale is there

Perspective -- 2nd You, 3rd Daryl

Pronouns -- none

TWs -- other than the hideous screenshot above, there's some language and discussion of abusive patterns and behaviors

How long is it? -- around 4,000 words

Masterlist -- Official one here and Chronological one here

In this chapter, Reader is struggling with shame, guilt and confusion over how Shane treated them at the end of the previous chapter.

Remember, being hurt by a loved one is not okay. If they are hurting you, they are doing something bad to you. Abuse is not earned or deserved. You are worthy of being safe and unhurt.

For help getting safe, you can call the Domestic Violence Hotline (USA) at 800-799-7233, chat online, or text START to 88788.

-------------------------

“No, nothin’ like it before, ever.”

Her fingers tap tap tapped against the book in her hands. “I don’t like it. Daddy’s been uncomfortable around him, then I see this happen.”

You twisted your mouth. “It was an argument between siblings.”

“If it was an argument, then why didn’t I see you arguin’ back?”

Stupid, stupid idiot. It kept playing in your head, that refrain. It had a different spin than it did at first. See, at first, your brain repeated it because you’d given yourself fault for what happened, how Shane just…you don’t know what happened. But he behaved very badly.

But then, the refrain kept repeating over and over because you didn’t walk away or fight back when Shane started hurti acting like he did.

You did nothing.

It was the one thing you were not supposed to do. The thing Shane and your Mama always warned you never to do when things got scary. The thing Shane had literally just gotten done practicing with you so that you’d know even more than you already know about how and when to fight back.

All that effort and still, you froze.

Stupid, stupid idiot. You stupid, stupid idiot.

You had to clear your throat. “Beth didn’t see, too, right? Just you?” you hushed. The girl was already timid and uneasy about your group, If she saw what happened, it was the nail in the coffin if you couldn’t fix this.

“No, I was the only one by the window.”

“So he wasn’t too loud, then.” Which meant only Margaret and Dale knew. Your shoulders felt lighter.

“Y/N,” Maggie said to you. “You seem more concerned with others not seein’ what went on.”

“Well, yeah, I’m worried they’d overreact.”

She tilted her chin up and placed her hands on her hips. “Oh, is that what I’m doing? Was my comin’ to check on you an overreaction?”

“No, no, not at all!” you quickly apologized. “Not at all! I’m, I’m happy you care enough.”

“You’re a good person and you’re my friend, which is why I don’t want to tiptoe around this. What your brother just did was bad. You know that was abusive, right?”

Maybe scoffing at her heartfelt, caring statement wasn’t your best idea, but 'abusive' was such a strong word…right? “He’s my brother, and it was a one-off, I done told you.”

“I’m not sure I believe it when you say that,” she next had the audacity to claim. “You haven’t even been makin’ eye contact with me.”

Oh, you want eye contact? I’ll give you eye contact, bitch.

Your inner tea kettle was shrieking to be taken off the burner, and you could not have cared less. “You callin’ me a liar? Calling my brother an abuser? Rich words from someone I’ve barely known two weeks!”

Before any more was said, Dale inserted himself into the conversation, the thing he said he wouldn’t do. “If you want to keep your conversation private, I suggest not raising your voices.”

Maggie’s arms were crossed. She stared hard at you, but spoke calmly. “Sometimes when things are unhealthy, those looking in from the outside can see it better. And I know what I saw.”

“A sibling fight,” you whispered as gently as you could, feeling so heated. “You, you, y-you saw a sibling fight, those can get nasty.” She’s wrong, she’s wrong, she’s not, she’s not.

“You know what? I don’t have time for your pushback if you don’t have time to consider what somebody who’s concerned about you says, Y/N.”

More shame was added to your plate.

Her leaving shouldn’t have felt so awful, but it did. You covered your eyes and exhaled, as if that would help get rid of the worst of it. You then told God how much you hated this, immediately followed by the opposite, as you cursed yourself a little more, why not? You stupid, stupid idiot.

Not only did you disappoint (and insult) your new friend, but you worried it was another strike against your group. Lori and Carl need this place, it’s safe, it’s good, it’s — you stupid, stupid idiot!

But just like that, Maggie then called your name again as Dale was stepping toward you. You turned to see her facing you once more, no longer walking away.

“If this was a dating situation, what would you think about how he behaved, what he did?” she challenged.

As unfair as you thought the comparison was, the answer hit you in the face. Pun not intended, shit, um… at any rate, having Dale close by helped to ease you into the checkmate that Margaret just finished you with.

You hated your answer.

Because if you saw Shane behaving toward a romantic partner the same way he just behaved with you, you know exactly what you’d think and how you’d react. It wouldn’t be a gray situation, it would be black and white.

More shame for the plate. More guilt. More unease, more dread.

Eyes to the grass, you swallowed your pride. “I’d see it the way you see it.”

Maggie shifted her weight from the right to left, then back again, uncertain. “Will you tell Rick?”

You hesitated, too. After all, you’re an adult. You could be married with children at your age, you couldn’t just—“Tattle that Shane…got huffy, lost his cool?”

“Don’t oversimplify, kiddo, you’re smarter than that,” Dale muttered. He and Shane don’t get on (zero idea why, since Dale and you get on so well!) so this is just more bad press against your brother and more shame for your plate.

“But it’s, it’s not that dramatic, none of this has to be dramatic,” you insisted.

Dale answered again. “Then talking to Rick about it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Rick’s family,” Maggie agreed. “So, he’s seems like the best person to help.”

A child in a grown-up’s body is what you felt like. Helpless, naïve, clueless. You stupid, stupid idiot.

They were right, though, Rick could fix this, he could talk to Shane, figure out what that was. And even better — agreeing with Maggie and Dale would get them off your back! For real, what were they doing, an intervention? Because Shaney poked you a little, gave you a little push?

The words felt sinful, but you said them anyway.“I-I’ll, um, I’ll talk to him. I’ll talk to Rick.” And, of course, you were then obligated because you despise dishonesty.

Maggie nodded, then put her thumbs in her pockets. Dale nodded and looked at the two of you, then all around. It was very uncomfortable.

It would be nice if instead of real life, this was a TV show or book, you remember thinking. The audience isn’t usually shown the awkward parts in TV or books, would be a waste of time.

“Y/N,” Maggie spoke, breaking the silence. “We have a raspberry thicket by the south-facing property line.” She pointed in the direction. “Completely overgrown. I’m gonna go back in, finish what I was doin’, but let’s go pick some together later, okay? I’ll come find you in a little while?” She smiled hopefully at you, with some pity thrown in.

Returning the smile, you hoped it made you look put-together and self-aware and confident instead of the shameful, idiotic mess you felt like. “That sounds delicious.”

The moment ended, and she went back toward the house. You heard the door open and clack shut again. A desk onto which you could slam you head would be nice, you remembered thinking.

Instead of a desk, though, Dale put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

He sighed. “Alright, troublemaker. Walk with me? We don’t have to talk, let’s enjoy the sunset awhile.”

Not two steps later, and he apologized for his timing in using the nickname that one month ago he’d christened you with. “And Y/N? What Shane did isn’t your fault.”

-------------------------

Him

-------------------------

Today marks one week of being stuck in this bed. Day 7.

He’d failed, that’s it. A weak-ass pussy dipshit who’d failed, and was still stuck in a damned bed after a full week.

Tomorrow, Patricia said he’d be cleared to move out. Not that it mattered much, he still couldn’t do enough to be useful. Not that he wouldn’t; he couldn’t. He’d still be on bed rest.

But hey, at least he’d be able to walk to the woods to find a place to squat and shit by himself now, right? Not even too sarcastic, it would be a step up from feeling like a total invalid.

Carol and Lori were doing a special dinner and cleaning up for the family here to try and thank them for everything. Daryl would just…lay in his bed, he figured. Except, all three of those clucking hens that he wished would stop preening him, Patricia, Carol, and Y/N, kept offering to help him eat with everyone else like they was all some big, happy, family.

This time, it wasn’t that he couldn’t; he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to face them all, not yet, it was too much. He could only take a certain level of shame, and his plate was already full.

The saving grace this past week that stopped him from drowning in his shame was his not seeing the whole kit and kaboodle of them in one sitting. Rick had told him a little over a week ago how it was no problem if Daryl left. Just Daryl, he’s pretty sure nobody else got that little talk.

He’d chosen to stay because of Sophia and Y/N. Sophia needed finding. Still does.

-------------------------

You

-------------------------

Carl is the kind of kid who’s double-digits, yet understands when his mother needs her baby again. Lori had snuggled with him on the bed, and both were sound asleep. Not even you knocking on the door or the door being opened/shut woke them.

Which must be why last night, Rick took the opportunity to bring up what Shane did, right there in the room.

It was a blessing that you didn’t end up having to do the hardest part, bringing it up, you suppose. Shane himself had done it for you. All you had to do was fill in the blanks.

“Said he lost control, acted a certain way,” Rick murmured. “What’d that look like?”

You didn’t want to describe it, it’d sound bad… “Shane didn’t say?”

“I’m interested in what you say.”

“Ah, you want to maintain ‘eyewitness sequeskra — eesh, that’s hard to pronounce. Se-quest-ra-tion?”

Rick did that raised brow squint thing he makes when he’s teasing, as if maybe he was about to call you ‘weirdo.’ But then, his expression faded back to serious and he spoke your name. “We both know he hasn’t been himself. What did that look like today?”

Casually, you told him about the way Shane had gotten intimidating. “You know how he’d talk when he needed to do ‘bad cop,’ it was, it was kinda like that.”

“Anything physical?”

Casually, you mentioned the jabs. “He was pokin’, like, with his pointer finger — and he’s strong, so.”

“Right there?” Rick asked, pointing to his sternum in mimic of how you’d gestured.

“Yeah.”

“Do you have a bruise?”

Your neck tightened.

Maggie had spotted it when you were berry picking. One had fallen down your shirt, so you’d pulled the fabric forward and down to retrieve it, and she (and you) saw the bruise forming. You stupid, stupid idiot.

It was fine, it wasn’t a big deal. Bruises happen.

Casually, you joked to Rick, “I get bruises from random shit all the time.”

He didn’t smile.

It actually lessened the shame, rather than adding more. You were grateful.

Continuing, he questioned, “He told me about that collarbone grab, and how he went like this?” And when he motioned with his hand, slowly pretending to clap it against the side of your head, you felt your cheeks heat.

“Once.” The insult he’d smacked you with at the same time hurt more, to be honest. Which…made it all click that what Shane did wasn’t as small a deal as you’d been thinking. Mouth shut, you licked your teeth and stared into space. “Did it to himself first, way more than once.”

Rick watched his wife and son sleeping on the bed and asked nothing more for a few minutes.

You picked at the string that stuck out of your arm wrap, feeling stupid, stupid, stupid, shameful, stupid. Per usual, then you missed your mom—and out of nowhere got swept by that flash flood of resentment toward Rick again.

Shane and you had left your mother alone to scope out the latest at the hospital, to figure out how to get Rick safely out without him decompensating. While you two were gone, what happened happened. Sometimes, you assign blame to Rick for it, as if comatose Rick was the reason your ma got killed. Sometimes, you assign her dying to Shane’s change in character, as if that made it better, gave it an excuse.

Grief gets sticky like that.

“Is that all, or is there any more?”

“He went like this,” you mumbled, and grabbed the neck of your shirt like Shane had. “That’s it, all the dirt. Happy?”

“Y/N.”

“…Sorry.”

“I know this wasn’t easy. Thank you,” he told you, putting his arm on your shoulder. You didn’t want it there, so you moved away. Rick was patient, not reacting a bit.

That was last night. This morning felt pretty normal when you woke up. Carol had shared your tent again. Shane was off in his, so you didn’t see him.

Coffee in hand, you were in in the middle of coaxing one of the pullets to waddle toward you by holding out dandelion leaves when Glenn came to see you. You’d figured he wanted to feed the baby chickens, too, or, even better, that there was good news about Maggie. (She likes him!, she told you herself the other day. She just isn’t telling, you know, Glenn himself just yet.)

“Y/N? How are you?”

“I’m warmed up good with my coffee, how about you? Sleep well?” You kept your smile in when you asked, “Talk to Maggie today?”

“Yeah, yeah, I slept fine, yeah, but, um—you’re like, okay, though?”

A flutter of dread. “Glenn, what’s up?”

“What did Shane do to you yesterday? I heard him—”

“—What did you hear, and from whom?” reverberated from the back of your throat as if it were a growl.

“Dude, chill. I’m trying to see if you’re okay.”

The way you tried to keep your voice calm ended up sounding snotty and insincere. Most likely because you were feeling very insincere. How many people saw or heard about what happened? Naked, you felt so naked and exposed! “Where. Did. You. Hear about it?”

“I heard your brother talking to Rick.”

The twist in your gut eased. “Okay, um, um — what did he, w-what, um, what did he, what did he say?” And how did you hear, do they know you heard?”

“I had the headphones in, but the battery died on your mp3 while I was going to the bathroom—”

“—Daryl has the mp3,” you thought aloud.

“He let T-Dog borrow it, who let me borrow it. I-I ate something that didn’t agree with me, so…”

Oh my ffing — “Did you sanitize it when you were done?”

“Dabbed it with hand sanitizer, yeah. Oh, also, Shane asked me to ask you if he could borrow it once it was charged again.” Glenn scratched his neck. “I told him it was on really low battery.”

You swallowed.“So he did see you?”

“He and Rick saw me with the earbuds on and I acted surprised to see them.Shane asked if he could borrow it, I told him it needed to be charged, um, hey, I can see it in your face that you’re worried, please don’t be! Shane believed me,” he assured you. “Trust me, he doesn’t know I heard him. I don’t lie, Y/N, you know that.”

“I do,” you admitted, nodding.

“Anyway, I was walking back from the woods and heard Shane and Rick talking. I figured it was about Sophia, but when I overheard something Shane said, I stopped and listened.” Glenn bent his head down and shuffled his feet. “He said that he messed up, like, snapped. Told Rick that he needed to talk to you and be on your side with whatever you told him. Y/N, he said that he,” your friend lowered to a whisper, “hurt you? Like literally ‘hurt’ you, like, did he hit you?”

You smiled to put him at ease, holding up your hands. “He poked me a little and clapped an ear, weren’t hardly no thing.” Y/N, you stupid, stupid, idiot.

It was probably good that he looked so disappointed and cautious, even if it didn’t feel good to see it in his eyes at the time. “Y/N, don’t…joke about this stuff,” he began. “Why would Shane would have gone to Rick in private if it wasn’t serious?”

“’Cause he’s a drama-king.” You made it sound almost like you were patronizing Glenn, the way you said it.

“No. No, this isn’t ‘no thing,’ you literally just confessed he did hit you — does Rick know about that, too? Shane mentioned something about a collarbone, grabbing your shirt, and shoving you, which is also not ‘no thing.’”

As he was speaking, you’d felt more and more defensive and naked and ashamed. You even had to beat down the urge you had to grab his shirt and shove him back, and prove it wasn’t a big deal!

Then, you considered how he’d take it. The look on his face, at a friend doing that to him. How you’d feel about yourself if you did that. How you’d feel if you saw somebody else do that to him or somebody else. A whole lot of rapid thoughts in the several moments where you figured out a way to respond.

The explanation you made was something you’d tried on everyone so far. “We’re siblings. Stuff like that is normal — did you never see your sisters go at it?”

“No, it’s not! And if it is, it shouldn’t be! Dude, if you saw me,” he countered, speaking louder than you’d heard him make since he cried that the bodies of those at the quarry camp weren’t going to be burned with the walkers. “Doing whatever Shane did with you to one of my younger sisters, what would you think of me? How would you react?”

Glenn’s strong emotional response wasn’t expected, so you stood there, dumb. And you knew exactly how you’d react if you saw him doing to his sisters what Shane did.

And yet, you’re still unsure if everyone else is overreacting because it sounded bad or because it actually was.

Either way, Glenn’s question raised your white flag for you. You surrendered, bowing you head in shame and covering your face with your free hand.

“Glenn, there are three other people who know. Four, if you count Shane.” With your injured arm still secured by the upper arm to your torso, you pointed at him. “Dale, Maggie, and Rick know. Which means already there are three others who know. Now, Glenn, don’t go spreadin’ this business any further, hear?”

You didn’t sound half as intimidating as the words may look, mostly you sounded defeated. Ashamed. “Talk to any one of them, talk to me, but do not breathe a word to, to anybody else or around anybody else.”

This is the part where you started to get a little weepy. “And Lori, she don’t need to know about this right now, she don’t need the stress, and not a word around my Carl, oh my gosh, not him.” This is the part where you got a little beg-gy. “Please. It, it ain’t a bad secret because those that need to know, know. Okay?”

The gavel was brought down when he said, “The way you’re scared of the others finding out makes it seem like a bad one.” He was right. Is right.

He then clasped his hands together. “Listen: I wasn’t about to tell anyone else, since Rick knows. Shane told him himself, dude, and I trust Rick. But, if it was a different case,” he went on, and shook his head as if he was telling you that all bets would be off. “Y/N, remember when Ed was around? How that felt? Dude, you literally threw yourself on him when you saw him hurt Carol.”

The comparison of your brother to Ed Peletier stung and wasn’t fair. And did Glenn forget what Shane did to Ed, to? “Glenn, that ain’t equivalent by any stretch.”

“Maybe not,” he accepted. “But just because it could be worse doesn’t make it not bad. Stuff like this starts small.”

“I know,” you whispered.

You raised the white flag higher, half with the plea that this would be over faster if you did. Lord above, you felt so small, stupid, and defenseless. “You’re right,” you ceded, your gaze reaching no higher than Glenn’s belly. “You’re right. And like you said, it’s, it’s b-bein’ handled, Rick’s got it.” Ugh, stress stutter. “And Shane did a much better job than me when he saw what Ed did, don’t leave out that part.”

“He did. That almost worries me more. Just — if anything like this happens again, or if it starts to feel the same, like — ” He raised his hands. “You’re my best friend. That means I’m on your team. Okay? Even if you end up hating me for it.” He then started to leave, give you some space. “We’re on the same search team today, too. Meet by the mailbox by 9:00, it’s in like 40 minutes.”

“Hey, wait,” you called, not wanting to look him in the eye yet but doing it anyway. And you forced the words out because they were true. “Th-thank you.”

He breathed out heavily and made an awkward (but real) smile.“I love you, dude.”

“I love you, too, man. You’re my best friend.”

The uncomfortable, clumsy encounter with Glenn left you feeling more ashamed than you already were. With Daryl, that day where you’d felt as if your very soul had been stripped bare, the vulnerability hadn’t felt shameful afterward. What you’d felt was so close, unbearably close, it was strange.

But yesterday evening and this morning, the vulnerability sucked, dude. And you’d been stuck in a cycle of shame, anger, and feeling stupid, but without those feelings going away once the truth let out.

The good thing was, the target of your anger began to change during the conversation with Glenn. You weren’t thinking stupid, stupid idiot about yourself anymore, no, it became directed at Shane. The one whose blowing up made this mess. Your view of the mess also became clearer. What happened wasn’t just one sibling bullying a little on the other and it getting out-of-hand it was…it wasn’t something to brush aside, you’ll say that. And you’re scared, you’ll say that, too.

But what you were supposed to do with all of it, that still wasn’t clear.

Still isn’t. Because sooner than later, Shane will know about the baby. Sooner rather than later, the situation with Sophia will end. Sooner rather than later, that little power struggle you’re seeing between him and Rick will come to a head.

Nope. You have no idea what to do and all you feel is shame about it.

Speaking of, Daryl’s been feeling ashamed, too, it’s kinda obvious when you look and talk to the guy. He thinks that because he’s bedbound, he’s useless. Might as well pop in before you go on the search this morning, you’ve got like 15 minutes until then.

-------------------------

Him

-------------------------

“Last day in this fine establishment, enjoy it while you can,” Y/N joked.

Yeah, so, he wasn’t in a joking mood and didn’t get why Y/N would be, either. An entire week in this ‘establishment’ was damned shameful. All because he stole (worse, Y/N had told him more than once not to do it) borrowed a horse that got spooked. A dumbass slip and fall. Twice.

If Sophia wasn’t found, it was on his hands.

“Did Carol convince you to come to dinner, yet? Or are you still feelin’ too poorly?”

“Just stop.” He wanted to be left alone, was that so fucking complicated?

And he wanted out of this fucking bed, out of this room, out of this house, off this shit farm, and away from this whole gaggle of dumb fucks.

He wanted Merle back. He wanted Uncle Jesse back.

…He just wanted Sophia back. He'd even prayed about it.

“Sorry, little man, not now. Yeah, nah, he needs some privacy and quiet,” Daryl then heard from out in the hallway.

The door was already closed. He didn’t even hear it shut.

“No, his head is still okay, Carl, his cognition is prolly better than the two of us put together. The man’s healin’ well, thanks be to God,” Y/N cheerfully chirped like a songbird. "Wanna visit the baby chicks again?"

More shame slithered on over, hissing at him for how he’d been a dick to Y/N, of all people.

Daryl tried to rub his chest to get rid of the tugging feeling in Y/N’s direction while trying to shut up the voice in his head that was screaming for a goddamn cigarette so he could smoke and dig the lit end into his skin.

-------------------------

You

-------------------------

So, that was a bust. Daryl kinda snapped at you. It sucked. Felt really awful, not gonna lie. First your brother, now the mangy hick.

Come to think of it, it's actually more on brand for Daryl to have done that, given you literally just referred to him as ‘mangy hick.’

Ugh, you wanna cry again. You wanna run back to Dale the way a little kid runs to their dad. Maybe this time you'd also run into a desk to slam your head against on the way?

Later would have to suffice for finding that desk, however, because now, there’s work to do.

“Aight, let’s roll. We’re headin’ south, looking around a small neighborhood. Tomorrow, Shane and Andrea will be hitting what we don’t cover,” T-Dog announces. “Ready to head out, y’all?”

“Head on back to your ma, okay?” you tell Carl, pecking a kiss on his head and patting your finger along the chick he's still carrying. Carl had walked you to the mailbox, it's his third and probably last ‘big trip’ of the day. He’s wearing Shane’s police baseball hat. “See you later, punk, I love you."

“Yeah, man, all set. Bye, Carl.” Glenn stands up from his crouched position by the mailbox where he was waiting.

You adjust the first aid kit in your backpack, then ease it on and snap the chest clip in place. “Ready, Teddy.”

T-Dog rubs his hands together. “Then let’s roll. See if we can’t bring Sophia back for this big dinner her mama’s got planned tonight.”

------------------------------------------

------------------------------------------

-> Masterlist link here <-

and our teeny tiny taglist :D

@spenciepoo338 ; @its-freaking-bats​​​​ ; @whistlesalot ; @buffy-the-assbutt-slayer ;  @dreamingaboutthewonderland ; @kwazii-kat ; @darylsmavis ; @outlanderhornet22 ; @battinsonrobs ; @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable ; @writingmybeloved ; @boomergirl123 ; @iheartathena0 ; @moonliight-luv ; @suniloli ; @supernaturalgirl02 ; @cnake-garden ; @daryldixmedown ; @sophehe ; @crashlyrose ; @virgo-sunflower920 ; @jennythe ; @theficbaker ; @vampireautism ; @rosetta196 ; @wifeof-barnes

(inbox is open if you would like on or off the taglist, slowpokes. Please don’t feel bad or nervous if you don’t want to be tagged anymore, just let me know in the inbox! We’re all friends here and your comfort level matters)  

[ahhrenata]

a little sketch for @not-so-austen ‘s ‘fix-it’ fic Fighting the Fall. It’s such a beautiful story that made me fall absolutely in love with the idea of these two. I’m so glad I found it 🥹 they deserve everything good in this world.

[little-reader]

“The Son of A Monster.” Ch.5

Masterlist

Warnings; Death, blood, Slow-burn, Sexual tension, Gay awakening (For both), Cursing, Negan is the Readers dad, Enemies to lovers story. Fighting. Zombie apocalypse

<@<3<@<3<@<3<@<3<@<3<@<3

You sharpen your knife, toning out the annoying scrape against the metal. You hummed the song “Do You Remember The Rain.” and peered over the porch to Rick and Michonne talking. They were leaving for something. You weren’t quite sure, but you guessed supply. Your dad will be here in a few days. 

Iris was walking down too, drinks in hand and smiling when she looked up. You smiled back and waved, getting up and placing your knife on the railing. “Let me help you.” You said, grabbing the cups from her hand and setting them on the porch steps. You captured her hands and helped her up the stairs, letting her sit in your previous spot.

She held her stomach as she leaned back, groaning slightly. You handed her the drink and sat on the railing. “Why’d you bring the lemonade?” You asked, taking a sip and humming. She shrugged and rubbed her stomach. 

“I wanted to.” She paused and sat up. “Start thinking of names.” You coughed and looked at her. She only smiled and raised her eyebrows, handing over a piece of paper. “I get to pick one of their names and you the other.” She said You looked down at the car. It had a line in the middle and on one side, it had two different genders and names. 

Baby A

Girl; Nova

Boy; Oliver Rome

You smiled and took out a pen, placing the sheet on the railing before writing down names.

Baby B

Girl; Isha

Boy; Ian?

You gave the card back, and she smiled. “In your shadow.” You said, kissing her cheek. She tucked it into her black sweater and got up. 

“I’ll see you later.” She walked off, waving to Carl with a smile when she passed him. Lucky, instead of hating her because she was married to you, (Mostly) everyone Loved her. They thought she was kind, sweet, helpful, and pregnant with twins.

You sighed and plopped back into the seat, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. You looked at your knife and placed it down. You cracked your neck and leaned back, relaxing as you closed your eyes. There was a slight breeze where the opened trees lay and where you sat. You Breathed in the smoke and breathed back out, allowing your nose to smell the tobacco coming out. 

The breeze stopped briefly, making you open your eyes and peer at the younger brunette by the stairs. “Carl.” You asked, tilting your head at him.” He hummed and looked over with boredom writing on his face. “You gotta’ look after your sister today?” You questioned, only to get a slight head shake from him as he walked inside. 

You sighed, threw your cigarette on the ground, and smashed it, getting up from your seat. “I didn’t just ask for no reason, Carl.” You stated, walking in after him. He turned with one eyebrow raised and took off his hat. 

“I don’t feel like doing anything today, Y/n.” He said, brushing through his hair before placing his hat back on his head. You huffed and groaned dramatically, throwing yourself backward and whining like a child. 

“Come on! We're supposed to be friends. Do you know what friends do? Trick question.” You asked, walking over to him. He rolled his eyes.

“I only said Yes because you wouldn’t leave me alone,” Carl said, heading upstairs. 

“Is that your final answer? If it is, I need you to repeat it, I didn’t catch any of that.” You said, following him once again. He sighed and slammed his room door. You huffed once again and left downstairs.

You went outside, rounded the house, and climbed the side of it, reaching the window where Carl's room was. You banged on in. Carl looked down at you through the window with disapproval. “Let me IN,” You yelled, hanging onto the side of the roof like a cat in a tree. Carl laughed and opened the window.

“You're a dumbass, you know that right?” Carl stated, closing his window when you were finally in. You flipped him off and fixed your shirt. Before he could say anything else, you interrupted him.

“I’m going somewhere, that means your following.” You said, Throwing Carl's shoes at him and unlocking the door. 

"Do I have a choice-"-Nope."

You yanked him by his hand and pulled him down the stairs. You picked up your bat and bag as we went to the “escape wall” and climbed over. You felt the slight breeze from the top as you quickly went over the wall and slowly climbed down. Carl then jumped down beside you and huffed, fixing his hat.

“It's rude to huff at people.” You say, smiling at him slightly as you begin to walk into the woods. Carl only huffed louder and more dramatically. You smile and huff louder than him while you turn. “Hush pretty boy.” You said, flicking his hat and walking deeper into the woods. 

It was relatively quiet, with few groans here and there. They would stop when you threw a knife at them. You watched the ground as you walked, but still acknowledged the world around you. You glanced at bushes here and there, looked into the mud, and listened to each and every sound.

“Boring.” You whined, huffing at the silence. “You bore me.” 

“I’m not a fuckin’ toy,” Carl said, raising his eyebrow. You raised your arms in defense and laughed. Carl raised an eyebrow at your response. “You act like I'm Woody from Toystory.” He said sarcastically.

You laughed again. “Well, if you are woody,” You stopped and put a finger on your chin, tapping it twice. “That makes me” You pointed to yourself. “Buzz lightyear.” you did jazz hands as he looked at you stupidly. 

“Did your mom drink in the womb?” You gasped and hit him on the arm when he walked by. “I’m just asking, you act like you have a disorder or something.” 

(I am switching from the Second POV to First person From here on out :) )

I glare at him and Hit him again. “That's offensive you know,” I said as we continued walking. 

We stopped in the middle of the woods when we came across a lake. It had a lake cabin and a road leading down to a hill with fields. “This what rich people used to buy?” I started as I looked out at the lake with my hand covering the sun. Carl only shrugged.

I looked around, nothing out of the ordinary, so I walked around the lake. “How crazy would I be to jump into this right now?” I asked, dropping my backpack and taking off my shoes. Carl just stared at me in disbelief. 

“Walkers can be in there.” He said, pointing into the dark, green water. I shrugged and stripped down until I was in my boxers. “You are crazy, Your gonna fuckin’ die in there,” Carl shouted as I dived in. Carl watched bubbles go up and then stop. “Y/n, it's not funny.” He shouted from the edge of the lake. He put his backpack down and crotched by the edge of the water.

A firm hand pulled him down by his ankle as he yelped and was pulled in. A hand held the back of his neck and arms had him pulled into the other person. A finger went over his lips, which of course made Carl freak out, There wasn’t much he could do from in the water, but a scratch. 

He was pulled back up and onto the wet mud as I held my face. My het hair covered my eyes as I had my mouth gaped open and blood dripped down my cheek. “You asshole.,” I said, staring at him.

“Im an asshole? You pulled me under!” He half yelled, shoving my face angrily with his hand. “Thought you were dead, and then you pulled me under, what the hell is wrong with you?” He said angrily, shoving me off and trying to get up. The mud under us made him slip and slide as he went backward and his ass landed on my stomach. I felt the wind be knocked out of me as I coughed and shoved him off. 

“Oh my GOD..  you fat ass.” I wheezed as I got off of the ground. I coughed and grabbed onto the grass, making my way up. Carl glared at me as I laughed at him. “Get up dumbass,” I said, seeing that the whole side of his face was covered in mud.

“You shoved me into the fucking.” Carl grabbed a pile of mud. “MUD.” He yelled as he threw it at me. I flinched and covered my face as it landed on my stomach with a splat and rolled down. For some reason, that made Carl laugh out loud. 

“Oh, that’s funny to you?” I asked, shuffling my foot under the mud, that move made Carl stop laughing and plead with me. “I thought it was funny, but when I do it, it’s not?” I asked, then kicked the pile of mud onto him. 

His mouth opened in shock when it covered the other side of his face. Carl wiped it off and tried standing this time, he balanced himself out as I held out my arm for him to reach out and grab. He refused and started to walk. “You’re gonna fall, Woody.” I teased. Of course, he ignored me. And of course, I was right as I watched his feet slip.

I started to laugh loudly, and It was cut off by a scream as he grabbed my hand at the last second, pulling me down with him. “You fucker.” I said, pulling my face out of the mud and spitting out. I wiped it out of my eyes and looked down at him with a glare.

His hair is now covered in mud, as well as his back and clothes. Both of us sit up and cough, wiping the mud off of each other.

We lay in the field, covered in mud, and looked at the sky. Carl had his flannel beside him and wore his white t-shirt as he leaned against his bookbag. He had re-did his eyepatch after drying off and sent me back into the water to grab his hat.

Carl sighed and looked over towards me. “How did you stay underwater that whole time?” He asked, his brows together. I yawned and sighed.

“My dad made me do a bunch of sports. Baseball was one of the main ones, he coached that.” I said, looking at him. He looked a little confused by what I said. “My dad worked as a gym teacher and a coach before the world died… but he got fired a few months before everything happened,” I stated, playing with my hands. “My mom would take me to the beach on hot days, but mostly a pool. We would have competitions of who could stay under the longest, whoever one got to pick out supper or lunch.” I said, looking up at the sky and smiling.

I felt Carl’s fingertips touch mine and looked at him. He was looking at the sky with a bit of a saddened look. He started to speak. “My mom… She and My dad would get in fights, though she would be the only one fighting. Even after the walking dead, they fought. But she protected me from every bad thing out there, or tried to at least.” I watched his eyes close and I moved my fingertips closer until they touched each other. I watched our hands. 

Our feet squashed onto the concrete as we walked back home. We walked closer than earlier, our arms skidding together as we spoke. “You think elephants are still alive?” I asked, looking around. Carl looked up at me like I was stupid. “Well, you never know…. They could be the last ones standing.” I joked.

Carl hit my arm and laughed a little. “That wasn’t funny.” He said and stopped laughing almost instantly. I laughed loudly and hit him harder.

“You're an ass,” I said, bumping our shoulders together a letting out a little laugh. He nodded while smiling. I watched the trees sway in motion with the wind as it blew through them. 

We got home shortly and climbed back into the walls without anyone noticing, thankfully. I ran upstairs with Carl chasing me into the bathroom. “Fuck you, I’m getting one first,” I yelled as he pulled my foot from the stairs. He managed to get passed me and tripped my legs up. “You ass!’ I said, landing on the top floor. I heard the door open and the shower turned on in a matter of seconds and huffed, getting off of the floor.

I entered the bathroom, almost tripping over Carl's clothes, and looked at the mirror, peering at the cut on my face that was now covered in dirt. I turned the sink on and splashed water onto my face and wiped the blood off. I looked at the closed curtain and hit it. “You're a dick,” I said, sitting on the toilet seat. Carl only laughed as I took off my shoes and socks. “Turn around,” I said, hitting the curtain. “I’m getting in,” I stated, opening the shower curtain.

Carl huffed and turned around before I got in. I grabbed the shower head and pointed it at my head, rubbing the dirt off and watching it sink to the bottom of the tub. I looked down at Carl's slighted hunched-over body as he washed off the dirt on his arms. I grabbed the soap and rubbed it through my hair, rinsing it quickly. My eyes roamed his back, there were a few freckles and one scar. Without thinking, I rubbed my finger over it, making Carl's head sharply look over. 

I mumbled a quick “Sorry,” before taking my hand off. His eyes looked at my torso and widened a little. Scars scattered around, large cuts, two bullet shots, and scratches that have yet to heal. I laugh and rub the mud off of my stomach. “I’ve had quite a few interactions with some bad people,” I muttered. “I don't show these much. My dad hates them, felt like it was his fault,” I said, closing the shampoo and placing it back on the rack.

“Was it?” Carl asked. I paused, looking down at him. 

“You still haven't gotten the mud out of your hair,” I said, wiping the soap I had in my hand in his hair. He pushed my hand away and huffed as he started to scrub his head. I got out of the shower as the water dripped down my now wet boxers and hair. I grabbed a towel and dried my hair quietly as I heard the shower turn off. I put my towel over the rod holding the curtain. “I’m gonna go throw our clothes in the washer,” I said, grabbing the clothes off the floor. I heard him hum as he grabbed the towel off of the rod. I walked downstairs slowly and to my bag, grabbed my dirty clothes out of it, along with my jacket, and walked into the laundry room, throwing the clothes into the washer. 

I threw in some detergent and turned it on. I hummed as I walked out and walked down the hall. I hear my radio go off in my bookbag as I walk into the living room. I sighed and Ignored it as I went upstairs. Carl was reading some comics in his bed with fresh clothes. “You got extras I could borrow?” I asked, pointing to his closet. He nodded as he flipped his page. I opened it up and all there were was boring plain clothes. I grabbed the black rusty jeans and black long-sleeve shirt before putting them on and plopping on his bed beside him.

Chapter 6☝️🤓

[shrenvents]

Wild Thing

Pairing: Rick Grimes x Original Female Character

Summary: Orphaned in her youth, Dakota Greene found peace in the quiet rhythms of her uncle's farm, embracing its solitude and honing skills passed down by her Marine father. Yet, her idyllic existence is abruptly fractured when a frantic sheriff, stained with blood, cradling a dying child, races across their golden fields.

Story warnings: Violence/gore, death, slowburn, language, sexual content/acts

PROLOGUE: SUNDOWN _____

13 Years Before the Outbreak

Glancing at the rearview mirror, Annette's curious, yet sullen eyes appear. They scrutinize through the glass with an intensity that makes my body taut. Shifting to the window, I press further behind the driver's seat, hidden from her probing gaze.

I knew very little about Annette, only that she was my uncle's new bride after Josephine passed away. Notwithstanding the initial awkwardness, I thoroughly appreciated her respectful manner. She never pried or pushed for more than a simple greeting, gracefully accepting silence as we drove through Georgia.

Allowing my Walkman to envelop all senses, I close my eyes and bear its comforting weight in my hand. The soulful vocals of Stevie Nicks flow past the cushioning of the headphones. She gently transports me back, to just six weeks prior. To that precious phone call, when my Dad was still alive and we had our last conversation...

"Okay, ready?" My father Donald asks with sheer enthusiasm and anticipation coaxing his tone. "Honey, you're gonna love this one." "Okay, okay I got it," giggling, I mock exasperation. "I'm ready." "Right. On three," he instructs, counting down "...2, 1—Go!"

Swiftly, I press play on the Walkman he recently sent me, from wherever he's currently based.

The sound of Fleetwood Mac's song "Sara"  resonates and Dad instinctively starts humming, droning along to the buoyant tune, his efforts to keep pace with Stevie sadly failing. I burst into laughter and he chimes in, "It's good, huh?" I can almost see his brilliant, unique grin. Even though he can't see me, I nod energetically, "Yeah it is. I love it, Dad."

Pure, genuine delight rushes in, leaving me almost breathless, words lumping in my throat. Just the sound of my Dad speaking sends a tide of emotion crashing through, tightening my chest. "Knew you would, Ace," he utters with that familiar warmth, and tears well up, blurring my vision, threatening to spill. Lying in the stillness of my bedroom, I remark on how that name of endearment still upholds its profound effect, while reminding me that he's not really here.

"Hey, Dad?" My voice comes out in a soft, whispering tone, quivering slightly.

"Yeah?" His voice is strong and assertive, a stark contrast to mine. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, evidence of the anxiety knotting in my stomach. "When are you coming home?"

There's a long pause on the other end of the line. The silence is leaden, like it's the weight of the world, plummeting down on me. It's almost audible, that crushing force, widening the space between us. The quiet stretches on, each second feeling like an eternity, amplifying the tension. My heart pounds thunderously, and a cold wave of fear washes over.

"Any day now, Ace..." Though he tries to sound reassuring, his voice carries its typical bundle of uncertainty. The clutch on my phone grows rigid as my mind races with images of him in his Marine uniform, standing tall and proud, regardless of his constant danger.

"Promise?" I urge, murmuring with a glint of vulnerability.

"I promise," he says, and again, I can hear the effort he's making to sound reliable, to give some semblance of comfort. "Stay strong for me, okay? Just a little longer."

"I will Dad. I miss you."

"I miss you too, Ace. More than you can imagine," he sighs, "I'll be home soon." I squeeze my eyelids shut, holding onto his words like a lifeline, hoping and praying that this time, soon, actually means soon.

"We've arrived, sweetheart," Annette's voice breaks through my melodic remembrance, forcefully yanking me from the depths of a vivid memory.

I blink rapidly, eyes darting around, adjusting to the scenery flashing outside the car windows. The landscape sprawls endlessly, a panorama I've only seen in daydreams. In my mind, I often imagined the Greene family someday, all together. Nevertheless, I didn't anticipate that meeting my estranged relatives would come at the cost of losing the only family I've known. Or maybe I did.

I suspire heavily, lungs expanding with an unnerving distress as I bite my inner cheek. Suddenly, I spot two young girls, one fairly taller than the other, playing, carefree in the lush greenery. Their laughter echoes through the stained glass, like a juxtaposition of the turmoil gripping my gut.

Then, the vehicle leisurely rounds the bend, rolling onto the gravel leading to their home. The green and white farmhouse emerges from behind several big, lively trees. Its quaint charm is disturbingly undeniable, with a porch adorned by hanging baskets of colourful flowers and chimes, glimmering as the descending sun casts a mellow glow across the wooden house. Just beyond the yard-framing fence, there's a weathered, murky windmill, spinning lazily with the faint breeze.

As we come closer, maneuvering to park, a kind-looking older man steps onto the deck. His faded denim overalls cover a checkered shirt, and his silver hair peeks out from under a straw hat. His face lights up with a gentle smile as he recognizes his truck, waving at us passionately. His eyes crinkle at their corners, displaying his years of contentment and wisdom. Quickly, it registers that this must be my uncle, Hershel, as his features reflect my Dad's —the same gentle eyes and sharp nose, that scrunched whenever he saw something for the first time. Seeing Hershel brought a poignant, surreal mixture of torment and ease. It was like encountering my Dad's missing piece.

When the car clips to a stop, Annette turns her head over her dainty shoulder, peering at me with a smile, a guise for support. I miss the chance to return it as she slips out of the truck. Gulping, I jerk the door handle, opening it to set my sneakers on the pebble terrain. I observe as a boy joins Annette, helping her unload my bags, and my brows shoot to my forehead, creasing in discomfort. Pulling one side of my headphones off, my wary voice shakes, "Uh— you don't have to— I can manage." Against my apprehension, they ignore me with a pleasant smile. "Don't worry, we got it," the boy reassures. "I'm Shawn by the way," he mentions, dropping a bag to shake my hand. I take it and his cheer falters, so I jolt my hand out of his grasp. "Sorry," he laughs at my surprise, picking up my bag to resume his work. "You have an impressive grip is all," Shawn praises, completely unfeigned. I try again to mimic a smile but he walks off, entering the house alongside Annette.

"How was the journey?" Hershel queries as he approaches. His brow quirks, upholding yet another smile. I internally grimace at the abundance of niceties. "I hope Annette didn't talk your ear off." At his joke, I remove my headphones entirely, a slight smirk tugging the edge of my mouth. "No," I admit and he huffs a short chuckle. "We didn't talk much, sorry."

His head tilts and it's vaguely reminiscent of how Dad would look at me whenever I missed a shot during our father-daughter, gun range visit. It mirrored his playfulness when he didn't take me seriously or thought whatever I'd done was "adorable" —his words, not mine.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. I'm sure that was what you needed," he clarifies softly. My tense frame loosens, his words skimming some of the burden off my shoulders. His right hand then glides steadily onto my bicep, a comforting touch in the otherwise chilly air. "Let's head inside," he proposes, gentle and reassuring, "I'm sure you're hungry." When his palm moves, the momentary warmth it brings fades.

Hershel wordlessly ushers me forward, guiding me up the porch, before he quickens his speed to open the door. However, a glimpse of the horizon captures my attention, freezing me to place.

A dazzling sunset stretches across the sky. Its radiant hues of ocher and pink ensnare me. With each passing second, the beautiful sinking sun tells me that by nightfall, my old life will be nothing more than a distant thought.

I swallow harshly and release a trembling breath. "Dakota?" My name, spoken quietly, pulls me away from the brink, and I snap my eyes to Hershel, seeing his warm smile, striving to mask a flicker of pain. His gaze, though kind, cannot hide our shared mourning—his little brother, my father. That second, the strength of our shared sorrow passes between us. It's an unspoken acknowledgement that our lives have been altered. Hershel's smile is strained as it offers a silent vow of devotion and care. Together, we stand on his porch, at the threshold of the unknown, bound by the recollection of the impactful man we loved.

"Don had been talking about bringing you here, for quite some time," Hershel broaches, barely above a whisper. The delicate way he mentions Dad makes my lungs constrict. I nod in response, knowing my voice will give out.

Though my Dad never explicitly said it, I knew he despised leaving me with my deadbeat mother's, younger sister. Her place, full of neglect and broken promises, was a poor substitute for a home. But sending me here, to his brother Hershel, came with a sacrifice. Meaning that the few moments we had together would likely be narrowed down to none, or one if we were lucky. Every reunion with my Dad had been great, but brief —a fleeting portrayal of the life I yearned for. Now, the reality of our separation settles like a heavy fog.

Hershel stands square to me, and I feel my stirring pain intermingle with the sight of a healthier future, past the horizon. A bittersweet ache adheres to my heart.

"So," a sincere grin, at last, graces my face. "What's for dinner?"

(continue reading this on wattpad @ shrenvents, I hope u enjoyed!)

[a-really-mediocre-writer]

angel of small death, chapter two

Daryl x OC Slowburn

Summary for entire work: Piper, a 19 year old girl, alongside her 16 year old sister, Dina, are thrust into a dead-infested wasteland of the world they once knew. Having had a difficult home life before turn, will this new world be a sweet release?

<< T W O >>

Around two hours of work around the camp went by, with Lori suspiciously avoiding eye contact and having hushed conversations with Shane, him glaring at me. I keep staring over in their direction, observing, and trying to figure out what has happened.

“…What’s that about?” Amy asks, making me jump.

“Jesus! You scared me…” I reply, “I’m not too sure… I asked him about his shift last night and he got cagey…”

“Weird…”

“Very…” I keep watching them both until I notice Shane walking away out of sight and Lori approaching us, me and Amy pretending we hadn’t been watching them.

“I’m gonna head out and try get some…mushrooms…” She picks up a red bucket from near Amy and we both nod, mumbling out okays as she walks off alone into the woods. Amy and I look between ourselves and then to the woods, pulling confused looks to each other, continuing to gossip amongst ourselves as we keep sorting through food for everyone tonight.

An hour later, meal prep had been finished and we decide to have a much-needed break, walking over towards the slope leading to the water, but we stop in our tracks when the radio starts echoing a strange man’s voice.

“Hello? Hello? Can anybody hear my voice?” Amy takes off towards the sound and tries to communicate with the stranger as everyone in the camp gathers around, with Shane and Lori coming out of the woods together.

“I tried to warn him, he couldn’t hear me.” Amy stresses to Dale as he approaches.

“Come on son you know best how to work these things.” Dale calls Shane over to the radio. He tries to speak and fails to connect. “He’s gone.”

“There are others…It’s not just us…” Lori says, holding Carl near to her, “I’ve been saying we should put up signs on the roads to warn people away from the city.” Everyone’s attention is on her, as she gulps and stares at Shane. The tension between the pair could be cut with a knife.

“We knew that, right? It’s why we left the CB on? We don’t have the time to go out and help others.”

The two continue to argue until Lori storms off, clearly pissed at Shane, and he follows her towards her tent in the camp. Amy and I share a glance and I raise an eyebrow, both of us giggling. We both end up going to the water, putting our feet in and chatting for a while until almost two hours have passed and Dina disturbs us to say that everyone is looking for us to start cooking dinner for the camp. Huffing, we both grab our shoes and make our way back with Dina, them both walking ahead of me joking and laughing with each other as I look out onto the water. It is so relaxing. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, soaking up the view, until my brain break is interrupted by the radio going off again at the camp, T-Dog’s voice rattling through the camp.

“Yo, this is T-Dog- Anybody out there hear me?” I rush up to the camp and see the worried looks on everyone’s faces while Dale asks him to repeat himself.

“W- Tra-ed- Depart- -ore” He tries to get through us as the radio breaks up.

“Trapped?” I repeat, looking around for reassurance from the camp that they heard what I did, locking eyes with Lori, who responds that she heard him say they were in the department store.

“I heard it too” multiple people around the camp agree and chat amongst themselves, everyone looking to Shane for an answer.

“We need to send help-“ Amy pleads to the officer, who shakes his head at her, “She volunteered to go- to help the rest of us!” She continues to try to reason with him but he isn’t listening.

“So she knew the risks, right? See if she’s trapped, she’s gone.” He coldly says staring into her eyes with a frustrated look.

“She is my sister, you son of a bitch.” She runs off upset, Lori shouting after her and following her to try and comfort her while everyone else scatters. You glare at Shane. He is supposed to be our leader, yet he wants to leave half of our group stranded in the middle of the city? He is so willing to let go of people it just doesn’t make sense- he puts himself and his family first when he should be protecting ALL of us.

“What? Got sumn you wanna say?” He asks me, breaking me out of my trance. I pull an irritated face at him, “Yeah actually, I do.” He scoffs at me and walks off, but I follow him, “Who gave you the right to lead us? You are supposed to be keeping everyone safe, but you don’t care that half of our manpower are stranded and in danger!” I rant at him and he suddenly stops in the middle of the tents, turning around to face me and clearly frustrated with me.

“Who else would you have lead us? Huh? You? You ain’t got the first clue on how to lead, so you best stop putting your nose where it ain’t belong.”

“You threatening me again, Walsh?” You stand your ground this time, earning another scoff from him. We both stare each other down until he gets sick of it and walks away, muttering that he has real work to do.

Not too long after the argument, a siren bounces across the mountains towards the camp. Dale looks out towards it, saying it was a stolen car, followed by a bright red car with race stripes speeding round the corner and parking up at the entrance of the camp. Everyone is shouting asking questions as Glenn gets out the car holding his hands up.

“Pop the damn- POP THE DAMNED HOOD!” Shane repeats, getting louder every time he orders.

“Where is she? Why isn’t she with you?” The worry is coloured over Amy’s face as the siren stops and Glenn catches his breath.

“She’s fine- Everyone’s fine!” He looks around as if waiting for someone else to come up behind him, “Well…Merle not so much…”

Shane and Dale continue arguing about how it was dangerous to drive the car to the camp, as it could have drawn walkers to us, but Amy and I are just silently appreciating that everyone made it out of the city.

Not too long after this, a large truck parks up behind Glenn’s car and everyone is reunited with their family and friends. Seeing the heartfelt reunions, my sister grabs my hand and we just smile at each other, and I lean my head on hers.

Out of nowhere, a new guy dressed in a sheriff’s uniform steps out from the cars and Lori and Carl run to him screaming “DAD!”. The man, Rick, begins sobbing and holds them both close, making everyone smile.

The reactions of Lori and Shane, however, were ones of guilt and shock, and even some resentment from Shane. He catches me watching him and snaps out of his trance, contorting his face into a fake smile with eyes glaring daggers into the back of Rick’s head and then at me. I look away from him but keep him in my peripheral.

As everyone made their way back into the camp to get back to business as usual, I get grabbed by my arm and roughly dragged behind the RV out of the view of everyone else and slammed against the vehicle with a hand over my mouth by none other than Shane Walsh. Heavy breathing from shock and anger, he keeps the hand over my mouth for a while longer pulling a serious face and lifting a finger to his mouth to tell me to stay quiet. Glaring at him I nod; he slowly removes the hand from my mouth and glares right back at me.

“You’re gonna listen to me an’ listen good,” He traps me in place with his arm leaning against the RV next to my head, “Whatever you have against me, Ima need ya to keep that mouth of yours shut. If you don’t, people will believe me when I tell them you got bit or tried to kill me. I know how to get rid of you without people finding out.” My eyes go wide and confused. What the fuck is he talking about? Were me and Amy right about him and Lori? Does he really think I would spoil her husband and child’s family reunion based on a hunch…? This is worse than I thought…

“You understand, darlin’?”

“What’s in it for me? Your word you won’t kill me?” Squinting at him I cock my head while he continues glaring a hole into my skull. We keep staring at each other intensely until we both jump at the sound of Dale asking what’s going on and saying that he needs to talk to me. Without missing a beat, Shane is now forehead to forehead with me, “I meant what I said, girl.” He whispers into my face as he caresses my cheek. “All yers, Dale.” He shouts to him and walks away without looking back at us.

I look up at the elderly man and ask what’s up, embarrassed, only to be asked if I have any tissue paper or wrapping paper, explaining that it’s Amy’s birthday in a few days and that Andrea has a gift to give her. “I’ll have a look round mine and Dina’s stuff for you.” I say with a fake smile and leave. What am I gonna do about this? If Shane is that worried about me spilling his secret, then surely he will try to get rid of me regardless of if I keep it or not…

That night we all are listening to Rick’s crazy story of survival before the subject of Merle Dixon comes back up. I feel some guilt towards him, I mean I told him that he should get lost out there…I put that out there, people heard it, now I feel awful- yes he deserved to not come back to the camp, but not chained and stuck to the roof of a building in the middle of the city full of the dead.

“…That’s on all of us.” T-Dog finishes telling everyone about his guilt as well and walks away from the fire after a long day.

“I’m gonna turn in.” I say quietly to Dina to which she nods, and I say goodnight getting up and walking away, falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

What a long day.

I awaken by the sun shining through the thin tent material and hitting my face. Dina is still sound asleep, so I quietly get dressed and slip out to start my chores for the day. Glancing around, I see that there are only a few other people awake and up. I go down to the water in the quarry and seeing that it is void of other people, I get out of my socks and shoes and dip my feet in the water, sitting just out of it to wake myself up and reading a novel that Glenn got me from his run into the city.

Walking up after time to myself I see that everyone is up and around the camp, and see that Glenn is desperately pleading his case and trying to stop Dale and Jim from stripping his new car, only to fail miserably, earning a pitiful pat on the back from me as he complains about it.

“You never know, you might find a better one next time.”

“It’s the coolest car I’ve ever driven…” he mutters to himself as they start to take it apart, “Look at them…vultures…Yeah, go on, strip it clean!” suddenly Rick appears behind us both. “Maybe we will get to steal another one someday.”

I leave them both to it and go about helping Amy, Andrea and Lori with putting wet clothes out to dry and folding others. Lori and Rick end up getting into a conversation about Merle and he says that he wants to go back and save him, only to get cut off by the children of the camp screaming for their mothers. Immediately everyone drops everything and sprints towards the wound into the woods, Lori and Jaqui holding them close as the rest of us run towards where they were coming from. There was a walker feasting on a deer with arrows in its body. Standing back from the action with Amy and  Andrea, we watch as Dale beheads the walker.

Rustling from the bushes startles everyone.

“Son of a bitch- That’s mah deer!”

“Easy son…”

“Whaddaya know abo’ it old man? Take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond!” Everyone is silent as none other than Daryl Dixon rants on, kicking whatever undead life was left in the walker out of it and shooting the reincarnated head with an arrow.

“Gotta be the brain, ain’t yall know nothin?” He collects his arrows and glances up at us, glaring in disbelief at everyone’s stupidity, until locking eyes with me for a second but then immediately putting his head back down.

“Yo Merle! Get yo ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel” Everyone in the camp tenses, waiting for the inevitable argument to ensue. Which it does. Between himself and Rick Grimes.

“Lemme process this- You sayin’ ya handcuffed mah brother to a roof- an’ you left him there?!”

“Yeah.”

Then, Daryl lunges at the officer with a knife, getting taken down and held in a chokehold by Shane. I watch in disbelief as he continues holding the distressed man on the ground, shaking my head and covering my mouth. Daryl looks around at everyone watching the violence and his eyes seem to avoid me, face flushing and closing his eyes.

Once everyone has calmed down, he lets him go and a small group of men build a rescue team for Merle and a mystery bag of guns and a radio. Watching him sharpening his knife, my mind winds back to the squirrel left outside of my tent, and I want to ask him about it but it doesn’t feel like the right time, so I sit alone with my own thoughts, hearing everyone argue and volunteer for the rescue team.

I wonder if everyone would send out a search party for me life this when Shane gets rid of me.

---

A/N its been a few days since an update, so this chapter is extra long- not too much daryl content yet but i promise there will be soon guys

taglist:

@azanoni

[littlegodzilla]

Our Story Masterlist.

On going.

Daryl Dixon x Wife / Daryl Dixon x Reader.

Chapters: 17/?

Words:

Warnings: Angst. Death. Slow Burn. Love. Fluff. Teen's love. Mention of drugs. Mention of abuses. TWD Gore. Smut (maybe).

Summary: Daryl met her with eight years old and he fell in love with her, you, her sister, became his best friend. The three of you became a team.

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15.

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

[snailpebbles]

Wanderlust

eventual! carl grimes x gn! reader

notes: not canon compliant, follows only the comics so no Daryl =( I apologize for any mistakes as this is my first long fic. Carl is 12, so are you and Sophia. Takes place during Rick, Michonne and Glenn's trip to Woodbury ( Comics, Prison arc + Governor )

It had been a couple hours since Rick, Michonne and Glenn had left to investigate the helicopter. Lori was practically pacing holes into the floor, and Carol was trying her best to comfort her. You had a feeling something weird was going on between the two but you didn't bring it up in fear of upsetting your two best friends, Carl and Sophia. The two teens had been with you since everything started, the three of you an inseparable trio.

Currently, you and Sophia were about to sneak into Carl's cell and steal some comics while he was busy pestering Andrea.

"hurry before he sees us!" Sophia whispers while darting into the cell. You follow along closely, keeping your eye out for the cowboy.

"Holy shit he does have my Spider-Man comic!" You gasp, clutching the aforementioned comic to your chest. Sophia snorts as she picks up some comics that look interesting.

"Sophia.. Sophia why are you staring at She-Hulk?" You ask, waving your hand in front of the 13 year olds face. She jumps a bit, cheeks tinged red as she drops the comic.

"No reason." Sophia says simply before poking her head out of the cell to check for Carl.

"Coast is clear. Let's go." She whispers, motioning for you to run out behind her with the goodies. As you go to do so, a familiar voice stops the both of you.

"Did you seriously just rob me." Carl deadpans, arms crossed with an unamused expression. You and Sophia slowly turn to face him with awkward smiles, comics still held in your arms.

"wwhhhhhhat....? noooo-" You begin to say, but Carl cuts you off with a pointed look at the incriminating comics. Sophia slouches and you almost laugh when she stares longingly at She-Hulk.

"Alright c'mon, put 'em back." Carl sighs, shooing both of you back into his cell.

"Ugh you're no fun Carl." You pout, scoffing but putting the comics back. Carol then yells for Sophia, to which she sighs but goes to find her mother leaving you and Carl alone.

Carl leans against the wall awkwardly as the silence stretches between the two of you. Until finally he breaks it.

"Sooo... wanna go on the basketball court?" He asks, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. You snort but nod and actually laugh when Carl's face glows red from embarrassment.

****

The two of you walk out onto the court with Lori and see Dale alongside Andrea out as well. Tyreese waves at the three of you to which you smile back at the tall man.

Carl and you settle on the concrete and start rolling a basketball back and forth to one another as Tyreese and Lori chat.

Suddenly Carol runs out screaming.

"THE ROAMERS — T-THEY BROKE THE FENCE DOWN!" She screams and Lori's face drops, her eyes and body darting to you and Carl.

Tyreese grabs you while your mind runs a million miles per second. 'Are we gonna die?' You snap out your dark thoughts when Tyreese drops you down inside the prison with Carl, Sophia, Lori and Carol. Sophia hugs you tightly as she panics but Carl stands near the door with his hand held protectively in front of his mom.

The sounds of roamers groaning outside penetrate everyone's ears when you remember.. Dale and Andrea out there. Where was Hershel? Maggie?

****

It's been hours of listening to the sounds of roamers growing ever closer. Sophia lays asleep in her mom's arms while you, Carl and Lori sit near one another.

"Hey Carl.." You whisper into the silence. His eyes flash up to you and so do Lori's.

"Yeah ___?" He whispers, scooting a bit closer to hear you better. Lori and Tyreese watch with close eyes and peeled ears to make sure you aren't speaking too loud.

"Are.. are you scared?" You ask, voice wavering slightly from the stress of the situation. Carl shakes his head, dark brown hair that probably needs to be cut falling into his eyes.

"No of course not-" Before he can finish his sentence, sounds of gunshots ring out from beyond the walls of the prison.

Then a loud bang and creaks mixed with the screeching of tires fills the following lapse of silence.

"What the fuck?" Sophia whispers, tensing where she lays in her mom's arms. The three adults look at one another, eyes wide and dark as they individually grab onto one of you. Once again you are enveloped into Tyreese's tight grasp while Lori pushes Carl behind her.

Minutes pass when the door opens, daylight flooding in. You hear Carl gasp and run out, yelling for his dad.

"DAD!! YOU'RE ALIVE- AGH!" Carl flinches back as you hear Lori's breath fall short. Finally you look up and feel sick.

Rick's hand is gone, only a stub left.

****

okay this is painfully bad, not proofread and I just all around hate it BUT WHATEVERRRRR.

[thesoggyraincloud]

Catching her Chapter 8

/ Daryl Dixon x OC // Merle Dixon X OC (platonic)

Season 1-3 // THE QUARRY

word count: 2913

Updated

Warnings- Allusion's to SA, Cannon swearning and physical violnce ------

Instead of the comforts of a viable, functioning society, she had gotten two rednecks. They had arrived in a whirlwind, a week after the initial outbreak and a day after Quinn had run out of food.

------

Daryl. 

He hadn't felt terror in a long time. The kind that leaves you powerless, voiceless and without a scrap of logic left to reason with. That hadn't touched him since he was big enough to be called a man, since before he realised his fists left less room for argument than his words and he’d never seen a reason to turn back. The first time he’d felt terror was at the hands of his father, but this time maybe he understood Merle’s. Why he took the beatings and why he left. Because it paralyses you, when someone who feels like a part of you gets hacked away. Leaves you primal and wanting to charge towards the danger or away, whatever helps the feeling in your chest subside fastest so you can fucking breath again. 

Because he can't breathe. Not while she's in there and it’s his fault. He doesn't even know if she's ok, totally absent from their earlier scuffle at the Vatos base. All his senses tell him to run head first into the danger to get her, but the guilt in his chest makes him wanna turn on his heel and run away from it all entirely and back to Merle. His thoughts crashed and rolled against his skull as Rick spoke, forming words that were sucked away before they reached the redneck's ear. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when the items of offence were pushed into his view, the guns they unwittingly traded for their friends. And now would be forced to trade back, leaving him just as unable to defend her as before. He hated himself for it but his body felt tight at the thought that he’d be trading Quinn for Merle if he did this. One wrong move and he wouldn't be around to look for his brother. Hell every second that passes separated them by another mile, was she really worth more than Merle to him?

“Them Guns are worth more than Gold.” He huffed, rubbing his face, and quickly continued,  “Gold doesn't protect your family, put food on the table.” 

“Are they really worth it?” As the word left his mouth he physically pulled away from them, turning from the men and only thinking about the guilt coating his mouth. . 

“If I knew we’d get them back, I might agree.” Rick quickly turned toward T-dog, “What, you think Vatos across the way is just gonna hand 'em’ over?”

The boy they grabbed spoke up, Daryl didn't care for the subject of his words, only that the kid's voice made him feel like pushing his nose through into his skull. Hitting him didn't do anything to make him calmer it just poured more into his sense of injustice and had him pacing across the room again

“The question is do you trust that man's word?” T dog spoke over the chaos, and he tried to focus, to use his rage as a tool to help the situation and not hinder it, but he just ended up wondering how Merle would’ve responded. 

“No, the question is what you're willing to bet for it, could be more than them guns, could be your life. Are they really worth that to you? “ In his mind he asks himself the same question, weighing it against his heart and his mind. 

“The life I have I owe to him, I was nobody to Glenn, just some idiot stuck in a tank. He could have walked away but he didn't, neither will I.” he paused and handed Daryl a gun and continued, 

“I could be asking you the same question. That woman, Quinn, came out here to help your brother. She could've stayed back at camp with the rest of the women but she's out here for you.”

He wanted to knock the self righteous bastard around the head with the butt of his gun or push him out the window and into the street, he didn't have a damn clue and he sure as hell didn't have a right talking to him about it right now. That asshat was ignorant of anything that happened in that camp, hell he owes her shit? she owed him if anything. But the nagging feeling was pulling his feet toward fighting, bulldozing through the next few hours to get Quinn back to him so he could try and get some control over this hellish day. He knows where she is and if he could get her back he might have some hope in finding his brother.  

The men around him stared at him, eyes boring in and he realised they were waiting on his answer. 

“What, you gonna hand the guns over?” 

“I didn't say that.” Rick turned to T-dog, “You can still leave, there's nothing keeping you here.” 

Like hell there ain't, Daryl internally snarked, but T-dog chose to stay. Giving him nothing more to complain about. Leaving that space empty to focus on the pricks that took Quinn and Glenn.

“Come on, this is nuts. Just do like g says.” The kid spoke up, and sooner wished he hadn't by the time Daryl's hand connected with his face again. And like a highschool bell, the slap quietened the room, unifying them in their decision to leave. 

 The whole ride down he sat in anticipation, each metre the van flew over filled him with steam and fire. Like the bow of an old ship his mind fractured into a thousand working parts pushing and pulling against itself, the bedlam refusing to placate against what possibilities lay ahead. She hadn't been there when they initially tried the exchange, although from the way they’d displayed Glenn like a Christmas turkey, he's almost grateful he didn't see her. Or he would be if it didn't mean 100 different, worser outcomes might be taking place. It could be happening right now, what had he done to try and stop it but think about leaving her there with them to chase after his damn brother, yet again picking up after him. 

Soon enough the Van came to a stop and He had to prepare himself for the fire fight to come. He stepped out into the sun with a frown and pulled himself alongside the others with boots filled with lead. When the door opened, Rick led with Miguel, displaying the hostage and using him as cover from any enemy fire. It was a cold thing to do, Daryl mused. Stepping in behind them, it was clear they’d not lacked much in man power, at least seven or eight men stood guarding the entrance, locked and loaded ready to push them back out into the street. 

“I see my guns but they're not all in the bag.” The head vato, Guillermo spoke first. 

“That's because they're not yours. I thought I mentioned that.” Rick countered.

Both sides anticipate the pull of metal against their fingers. Someone spoke up from the back but Daryl was so weird on Guillermo he didnt make out what was said just that something was, staring into the crowd of antagonist’s he tried to pin the voice down to a face. 

“I don't think you fully appreciate the gravity of the situation.” The head Vato replied and the room felt like it shrunk as the Vatos pressed them back. 

“No, I'm pretty clear. You have your man, I want mine.” Miguel was freed, stumbling into the men in front and being absorbed by the crowd. 

“Two hostages for the price of one? I'm gonna chop up your boy. I'm gonna feed him to my dogs. They're the evilest, nastiest man-eating bitches you ever saw. I picked them up from Satan at a yard sale. And my boys will do worse to your girl. I told you how it has to be. Are you woefully deaf?” Daryl had to hold himself from throwing the gun and running at the asshole. 

Rick argued back but the situation grew more tense by the second, each man cocking their guns readying for the battle, that was until a small figure displaced the crowd in front. Breaking it apart and revealing themselves to be an elderly woman, calling out for someone to help. 

“Get that old lady out the line of fire now!” Daryl shouted, but she paid the situation no mind, not seeing the true threat before her. Tugging away at a man and crying for them to help someone they couldn't see. 

Guillermo shouted for them to leave but it was too late, with their weakness exposed they had no choice but to back down. The elderly woman, now realising the man in front’s attire started to shout in defence of her grandson, she thought the group came to arrest him. The situation quickly made Daryl feel grateful that his grandparents had never been any thought to him, looking after the old was the kind of burden he knew he couldn't handle with the dead walking. 

“Let em pass” That brought Daryl back to attention, pushing forward to find what he’d come all the way out here for. 

“Where's the woman?” He hadn't bothered waiting for an answer, heading off down the corridor towards Glenn's voice. 

“If your looking for your wife,  she's in the nurse's office.” A larger woman pointed towards a door in the opposite direction and he started for the handle, halfway turning it before he actually registered what she’d said.

“Wife?”  He questioned but the woman had already begun walking away back to the gathering at the end of the hall. 

He clicked open the door with a breath of relief, she lay down sleeping on the examination table and for the first time since she was gone Daryl felt he could shut his mind up, if only for a minute, as if looking at her might salvage this hellfire of a day. 

“Quinn, Quinn?” He shook her but she didn't stir, it took a hard shove before the woman woke up. Shifting in place and wincing in pain as she slowly opened her eyes to his face above hers. 

“Jesus Daryl.” She flinched back until he caught her arm bringing her up to a sitting position. 

“What’s wrong with you?” 

“Those damn asshats busted my back when they grabbed me.” She rolled her eyes as she spoke, looking away from him. 

“Lemme see.” He panicked as soon as he’d said it, pulling away almost immediately at the idea but unable to stop the words leaving his mouth. 

She shook her head, yes and took a sharp breath in. 

“There’s something I gotta tell you before you…you know.” 

“I was in an accident, there's a lot of scarring from when I was fused back together, I got a couple of grafts and shit too.” 

“Fused wha-” He was cut off when she raised her shirt, twisting around to catch his face. 

“Jesus Christ.” Was all he could manage, her back was a mass of scar tissues and mottled bruising. A perfect line snaking up her spine stood against the paintings on her skin as permanent evidence of the surgeries she’d had to save her life. 

“This is from an ‘accident’?” He questioned, although he was faintly aware she’d just said as much. 

She didn't reply, clumsily pulling down her shirt and letting out a heavy sigh. Rubbing her face, likely still sleepy. It wasn't unusual but something about the weight in her limbs set his mind in motion, his eyes watching her more carefully. 

“It’s not something I like talking about.” 

He turned away, wiping his damp palm’s on his jeans. He stood rigid on the spot, eyes darting between the wall and his feet trying to come up with something to say. But he was left at a blank, he had never seen anything like that on someone outside of himself, he could only think of his father and the crack of the belt flicking over him.

“We should go find the others, Daryl.” She broke through the image of his fathers torment, slowly walking to him until he took her arm to steady her, moving them both down the corridor towards their friends. 

Once all was said and done, the vatos were left with half the guns and ammo and Daryl hoped he never saw them again. He’d spend the minimal time inside hoping he would recognise the fucker that hit her, and the rest helping her hobble around trying to find a brace for her back. He’d been in a borderline rage helping her look for it in the vast building, but once they had it he was exhausted and ready to head back to the van and away from all these damn people. 

He could have died hearing glenn call out ahead of them. 

“Oh my god. Where the hell’s our van? We left it right there. Who would take it?” 

‘Merle” Rick countered, he looked at Quinn but she had no expression, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“He's gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp.” 

They continued their trek forward, pushing on despite the missing van, it was starting to get dark by the time they found a car in decent enough condition to hot wire. They all passed the journey in anxious anticipation at the wrath Merle might have inflicted upon the camp. He felt too done at this point to feel any guilt over it, Merle's potential actions might be his to deal with but until they got back he could have a moment of peace. 

His focus returned to Quinns rhythmic breathing, deep in sleep her face covered partially by his jacket collar. He found he had the temptation to pull it down from her face to get a better look. He settled on counting her breaths instead, watching the car pass by the highway. 

“Is she alright?” T-Dog spoke from his space in the empty trunk behind them. 

“They roughed her pretty good.” Rick filled the momentary silence as Daryl thought of a reply.

She wasn't ok, not in the slightest. He had no idea what the fuck to do to help her, hell he didnt even know there was something wrong with her and he’d spent the better part of 3 months with her. If she told him there wouldn't have been a chance in hell that he’d have let her run after those guns, she put herself in so much danger. 

“She’ll be fine.” He really hoped she would be. 

When they arrived at a stop the air was cold and silent, penetrated almost immediately as the car door shut by a scream that ripped out across the quarry. A chorus joined them, wailing on as Daryl raced forward, Quinn momentarily forgotten in the back of the car. 

He knew the others were following behind him, their footsteps quickly falling among the shuffles of the dead as bullets rang out. In the smoke and dispersing crowd, it was hard to tell how many there really were, taking extra agonising seconds to clear out the walkers. Every direction he looked they stumbled around, most covered in fresh blood. He took them down as they came to him, eventually running out of ammo and resorting to using the butt of his rifle to smash them down. 

“AMY!” 

“Oh god”

“AMY!”

Andrea’s screams signified the end of the walkers' evasion on their small encampment, Daryl stood alongside the rest of the group. Watching in shocked and equally horrified silence. No one moved for a few seconds, standing stagnant in the sea of death around them not daring to disturb her. 

“I remember my dream now, Why I dug the holes.” Jim broke through the clearing, ending the silence and snapping Daryl back to attention. 

“I need to go get Quinn.” 

He didn't bother waiting for a reply but he equally didn't expect one from the shell shocked crowd. As he got further out, almost halfway down the road they had left the car as he heard another slow, shuffle of footsteps coming towards him in the dark. Grinding dirt under their feet and limping over to him he didn't think twice lifting up the end of his gun and stepping forward in quick succession. 

“JESUS CHRIST” It was Quinn, shuffling down the road, in the dark on her own ready to be chomped down on by any geek around. 

“Are you Dumb? Or just high again because I told you to stay in the Damn car.” He grabbed her arm, his heart beating faster than it ever had before. He took a good look at her, checking for any more injuries as she tried weakly to pull away. 

“Fuck you, I woke up alone. To screaming and gunshots. Where were you? What the hell is going on?” He was silent, staring at her shadowed face watching her expression closely.

“Walkers hit the camp, and you’d know that if you hadn't gone out there earlier and stormed up Atlanta like your G.I Joe.” 

“Is anyone hurt?” At this point she was leaning up to him, so close he held his breath. 

He pushed her shoulder down firmly, immediately regretted it as she cringed back, wincing in pain. 

“Aside from you, Yeah. Just wait till you get back to camp, no point crying over shit you can't do anything about right now.” He slid his hand down her arm, letting her lean on him as they started the slow walk back.

---------------------------------

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

---------------------------------

[everythingwrongwithizumi]

The Walking Dead

Series

You Got my Heart

Blurbs

…coming soon…

Headcannons

…coming soon…

Oneshots

…coming soon…

Series

…coming soon…

Blurbs

…coming soon…

Headcannons

…coming soon…

Oneshots

To Be Loved

[soupsspoons]

11. The Fight

The gazebo in the center of town really was Hannah's favorite place to be. She could never understand why no one else adored it as she did. But I guess, she thought, she should be happy about that. The fewer people wandering by, the more time she got to spend there. It was odd how different the two lonelinesses felt to her - the loneliness of being in her home and the loneliness of being in the gazebo. Sure, she didn't regret her decision to live alone, but there was something about how blocked off it made her feel sometimes. At least when she was outside Hannah could see the world around her, the people. From where she sat today, on the wood of the railing that wrapped around the structure, Hannah could see Miss McCants tending to her garden like always, bent over the roses that had just begun to bloom. They were simple red roses, but Hannah loved to see the care Miss McCants took for them, the way she treated them like a treasure in her hands. Hannah could also see Daryl standing by the fence. She still hadn't been able to understand the man. He didn't scare her the way he used to, but Hannah didn't know what to think of him. He was big and rough, and yet he seemed somewhat harmless. The whole group seemed harmless.

Hannah began to think about what she heard Gabriel saying the other day. Sure they were more aggressive than anyone Hannah had been used to and were always trying to invent new ways of doing things, but they were no harm to Alexandria. If anything, Hannah knew, they were there to help. Ever since they arrived, Hannah's world seemed to grow. Maybe it was just because of Carl, because of the things he reminded her of, but this group showed them there is a world beyond Alexandria, whether they want it or not.

Hannah continued to survey the town in front of her. She could see Sasha in the watch tower, her gun facing out past the fence. She watched as the woman stood very still, focused on what could be beyond the walls. Hannah had never liked guns, especially before everything, but the sight of the woman in the tower made her feel safe. Alexandria was safe.

"HELP!"

Hannah heard screaming from farther in town. There were people running towards Ron's house, and the sound of their heavy feet hitting the concrete rang in Hannah's ears. She quickly put down the book she had been holding, stashing it beneath the loose board of the gazebo along with her family picture, and ran towards the sound.

Almost everyone she knew was huddled in a circle, all wearing faces of shock, of horror. She pushed through the layers of bodies to the front, and Hannah was met with the sight of Rick Grimes tackling Pete Anderson, both men covered in blood that could have belonged to either. Across from Hannah, Ron stood with his fists tight, anger clear on his face, though Hannah couldn't quite tell who it was meant for. Near him, Hannah saw Carl watching as well. She felt bad for the boys, they didn't deserve to have to watch this.

"Stop!" Jessie yelled before running forward. She tried to reach for her husband, hoping to pull him away but was quickly smacked by Pete's outraged hand. Hannah could only watch as she fell to the ground immediately, leaving Ron more furious than before. He ran to his mom, helping her stand farther away from the fight. As Hannah watched, she could see the tears that had built in his eyes, the ones he was desperately holding back.

Rick quickly flipped Pete, letting his head bang against the pavement below. She looked up to see Carl moving closer to the fight, determination and fear on his face. She quickly shook her head at him, begging him not to get involved, but he only glanced at her. When their eyes met for that single second, it was like they were back in the woods, hiding from the Roamers. She wanted to give him the same comfort he had given her, she wanted to make all of this end for him.

"Dad, get off!" He yelled at his father, who hadn't seen him coming and pushed him away, just like Jessie. He fell to the ground, his hat rolling off in the process. Hannah didn't know if she should move. She was frozen as the boy curled up on the ground in front of her. She looked at the crowd around her, hoping for an answer, but all she was met with were wide eyes and glares. So, Hannah let herself move towards the boy, picking up his fallen hat and bending down at his side. Now that she was closer, Hannah could see that he wasn't physically hurt, and yet he hadn't gotten up.

"Carl?" She said as softly as she could for it to still be heard over the fighting. She didn't touch him, not wanting to upset him any more than he already was, but she could see that his eyes were shut tight. For the first time, he looked scared. He looked like a boy.

Finally, a couple of other people ran to help him up, and he stood as if nothing had happened. Carl ran his hand through his long hair, finally looking at Hannah. He didn't smile and he didn't frown. He simply moved his hand to motion at the hat in her hands. She handed it to the boy and he finally spoke, "Sorry."

They both return to their spots in the circle, their quick moment over.

"Stop it, right now" Deanna finally stepped in and the men looked up at her.

"You touch them again and I'll kill you," Rick said lowly to Pete. Hannah finally understood what was happening. This was her fault, she had been the one to tell Rick about Pete. And yet, Hannah felt no guilt. She could see Sam hiding behind Carol, who met her eyes and only nodded. Hannah didn't feel bad for Pete.

"Damn it, Rick, I said stop!" Deanna shouted. People began to move towards Rick, who immediately pulled out a gun he had been keeping in his jacket. Hannah jumped back at the sight and looked back at Carl. He could only watch his father with sad eyes.

"Put that gun down, Rick" Deanna tried to reason.

"You still don't get it. None of you do!" Rick said as he waved the gun around the circle of people. "We know what needs to be done and we do it. We're the ones who live. You," Rick pointed the gun at Deanna, "You just sit and plan and hesitate. You pretend like you know, but you don't!" Rick paused long enough for everyone to hear silenced shots ring out by the fence, but started up again before anyone could question it. "You wish things weren't the way they are. Well, you want to live? You want this place to stay standing?" Rick asked, "Your way of doing things is done. Things don't just get better because you-- you want them to. Starting right now, we live in the real world. We have to control who lives here."

"That's never been more clear to me than it is right now," Deanna says sternly.

"Me-- me?" Rick points to himself with the gun still in his hand, and he laughs as if it's an impossible idea, "You mean me?"

"Your way is gonna destroy this place. It's gonna get people killed. It's already gotten people killed. I'm not just gonna stand by and let it keep happening. If you don't fight, you die! I'm not gonna stand--"

Rick is cut off when Michonne hits him with the butt of her gun, knocking him to the ground.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ

Hiii lovelies! I don't entirely love this chapter but oh well. I hope you all enjoyed. Get ready for the story to start picking up!

How do we feel about Hannah's feelings toward Ron? I don't want them to come off romantic but I can't tell if they do. I want Hannah to be close to him and feel for him but not like him, you know? What do you guys think?

Thanks for Reading!

[sunnygrey99]

Death Be Damned Pt. 1

~Trigger Warning: Typical TWD warnings. (minors DNI) If any other Triggers apply please let me know.~

Story Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Violence, Murder, Death, Smut

A/N: This is the first of another hopefully VERY long series. It slow burns sort of.

Wordcount: 2,553

Summary: Walsh!Reader finds herself caring for a little girl in the end of the world. She also finds herself in a prison with some familiar faces and meeting new ones.

(Walsh!Reader is the adopted sister to Shane Walsh. I will try to avoid any super descriptive language so that this reader insert is also inclusive of any race/ethnicity. If I slip up anywhere please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP.)

In the dead of the night soft steps cautiously approach the old, small farmhouse. Its door cracked open as if someone had left or entered in a hurry. With a strong grip on the handle of your hunting machete, you slowly open the door to the farmhouse. Its door squeaks lightly just as the wooden floor does as you enter. Hearing the groans of the dead you hold your knife up at the ready with the utility flashlight showing your path. You make quick work of the dead walking around the home before shutting the front door and securing it for the night. 

Pulling open cabinets and rifling through for any food you can snag and bag a small noise catches your attention. Instantly with your knife back in hand, you wait for another noise. When no noise comes you start opening all the cabinets that could hide someone before finally pulling one open that had a small, blonde girl in it seemingly trying to hide from the dead. You lower your knife quickly and kneel down to her level. She cowers back in fear knowing she doesn’t know you. Holstering your knife and backing up a bit from the girl, you decide it's best to give her some breathing room. 

“I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Is there anyone with you?” Your voice is still hushed to ensure not to draw any other attention from unwanted visitors. The girl shakes her head in response but seems to be shaking from either the night chill or from terror. Slowly you unclip the fleece blanket from the heavy backpack and drape it out for her to take. She takes a hesitant moment before grasping the thin fabric and covering herself but staying in the cabinet. A whisper of a ‘thank you’ makes it to your ears before you sit across from her. “Can you tell me your name?” 

The girl seems to want to trust you but is fighting it. Either it's just due to the state of the world around her or something happened to her recently. After a few minutes, she whispers her name. “I...My name is Sophia.” Her answer is so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

You can’t help but smile over at her before you find yourself offering more information about yourself. “I’m Y/N. How old are you Sophia?” She answers more readily now seeming to build more trust with you. Soon enough she’s telling you her whole story and how she got to where she is now. There’s no way that you can let this girl stay on her own so you vow to take her in and protect her until you find her group. 

At first, you try to go to the road she had talked about coming from but had been diverted by a hoard. Every attempt drove you further from the area you needed to go. By the time you had reached the traffic jam safely, there was no sign of people and a washed-out sign with Sophia’s name. You gather as many supplies as you can and load them onto a motorcycle that is still in working condition. It is a comfortable enough touring bike that can hold both you and the girl without having to get rid of any supplies. Weeks go by before you are finally finding a spot to hole up in for the winter. Sofia stops asking about her group and you don’t have the heart to talk to her about it either. You’ve grown closer in the last few months than you thought you would have. You were meant to go this alone and yet here you are protecting someone else’s little girl. It isn’t for the lack of trying to find the group either. In that time you track any sign of her group all the way back to a walker-infested farmhouse with no luck. 

Once you two are settled in you show her how to hunt and forage, if it’s not that it's schooling. If it's not either of those it's training her how to fight and protect herself. Over the six months, you stay in the small Cabin in the woods, the two of you become inseparable. One day however a group of men finds their way into your cabin while the two of you are hunting. You spot the men from far enough away that you and Sophia are able to hide in the bushes and watch. See if they are dangerous. A call that you’d be grateful for seeing how they kill one of their own at the cabin for simply lying about his own food rations. Thankfully you and Sophia are able to get away unnoticed and with a decent amount of your supplies safe. Finding your touring bike still intact close to the road the two of you hop on and start looking for a new place to stay. 

A couple of weeks go by of the two of you struggling to find anything worthwhile before stumbling across an old prison that looked to be a functioning community. Camping out in the trees for a week watching the prison and deciding if approaching would be a good idea. Sophia studies and trains while you keep watch with a pair of binoculars. The group seems to be well-led and structured but just to be safe you have Sophia stay in the tree and wait for you to come back. It leaves you uneasy not having her right beside you to keep her safe but you know this is the safest route for her. 

The slow approach to the gates has you wondering if this truly is a good idea or if you’ll have to fight your way out. After making it nearly close enough to knock on the gate It opened with a pair of hands pulling you in and patting you down. You’d left all your weapons besides a hunting knife and your compound bow with Sofia. The man patted you down asking you questions that you answer in a neutral tone. 

“Who are you?”, “Y/N”

“Are you alone?”, “Yes”

“Why are you here?”, “Seeking shelter. I can contribute.”

“What skills do you have?”, “Hunting, trapping, foraging, Medical.”

“What kind of medical?”, “ER Nursing.”

“How many walkers have you killed?”, “Countless”

“How many people?” “28”

“Jesus. Why?” “I was a military sniper. Came with the job. The ones after the world went to shit were just self-defense.”

The man finally stops badgering you with questions and takes your weapons before taking you into the prison, and to a secured cell. “The council will review your answers and decide if you can stay.” You only nod and get yourself comfortable on the bench in the small holding cell. It's three hours later when a group of people come to stand in front of your cell. You don’t make a move letting them just stare for a moment before a woman steps forward.

“My husband says you killed 28 people.” Her thick accent lets you know she’s a Georgia native. You only nod in response to her. “How many were before the dead started rising.” Her questions come out more as demands than that of which you are assuming her husband’s were. 

“25 of them. All ordered kills from the United States government. It was a time I unfortunately trusted the government.” Your answer seems to take aback some of the group. You sigh seeing that they likely won’t let you stay. “Look I’m not going to lie to you on any of this there’s no point. If you aren’t going to let me stay then I’ll just leave you all alone and find another place to stay or die trying.” 

She looks back to the others for a moment before looking at you and nodding. “You can stay. We, unfortunately, need someone with your experience.” 

You back away from the door as she unlocks it, gesturing for the rough-looking man with shaggy brown hair. “I’m Maggie, This is Daryl. You’ll meet the council later. For now, Daryl will show you around and get you settled in. You’ll be put on the run team and watch once we trust you, until then you’ll be working in the kitchen with Carol and on fence duty.” Once she finishes her introduction she walks off to get her other work done. The rough-looking man, Daryl, takes you on a tour of the prison with minimal talking before finally getting back to the main yard where kids are running around and seemingly having fun. It’s almost as if the world hadn’t ended for them. 

It puts you at ease seeing the prison and knowing it's much safer than any other place that you’ve been able to find. Having other kids around for Sophia would be good too. You want her to still be a kid and you’ve seen that childlike wonder slowly fade from her as she gets closer to being 14. You take a deep breath before turning to the silent man next to you. “I lied to your guard earlier.”

The man snaps his eyes up to your face trying to see if you are suddenly more dangerous. “Look I’ve got a kid with me. She’s out in those woods hiding for now. I’ve been watching this group for a week now. I wanted to see if this place would be safe for her before anything else. I didn’t lie about anything else. Just that. She means everything to me. I hope you can understand” The man looks you over for a moment before nodding and walking over to who you presume are the other council members. Quick glances over to you before Daryl is walking back over to you and mutters “let's go find er”

~~~

By the time you reach the trees you were camped at Sophia is already grabbing bags and weapons while her cloak’s hood is pulled fully up to cover her from being seen. A habit built up over time to hide her from anyone that may want to hurt her. You grab what is left and not a word is spoken between the three of you. You make sure to place yourself between the two of them in case she needs to book it last second. Luckily it isn’t needed as the three of you approach the gate. An older woman and a man who looks eerily familiar to you are waiting just inside presumably to meet the two newcomers.

The closer you get to the man the more you recognize him before it suddenly dawns on you. “Rick? Rick Grimes, is that really you?” His head perked up at his name spoken in a familiar voice and recognition seems to strike him as well. 

“Y/N Walsh? Well, I’ll be damned. I never thought I’d see you again.” He opens his arms wide and pulls you into a hug. You can’t help but hug back. It isn’t until you hear a gasp from next to you that you look over at the unknown woman. Tears streaming down her face and seemingly frozen to the spot. Looking back over to Sophia and seeing she has taken her hood down and gotten much closer to the woman. Quickly you find yourself pulling Sophia back in your own confusion. She shrugs your hands gently as she nods to you and looks back to the woman before you hear a soft calling of mom from her. 

The woman you see must be Sophia’s mom Carol. You’d lost hope at finding anyone that either of you knew. Carol pulls her long-lost daughter into a hug and both slowly fall to their knees crying. The three of you give them some space for their own little reunion. Rick pulling you over to the side. “Ya know Carl’s here too I’m sure he’d love to see you.” You nod looking back over your shoulder Daryl standing off to the side watching over them but still giving them space. 

“I...I’d love to...just...” You couldn’t really find the right words but Rick seems to understand. 

“I’ll bring him out here. Sophia was his friend anyway I’m sure he’d be glad to see her again too.” With that Rick is off to find his son. 

Daryl comes up next to you not long after. “Thanks... Fer keepin’ her safe. Was she with ya this whole time?”

Nodding you sigh at the sight of Sofia and her mom. It’s a good feeling having brought her back to her mom but a little bittersweet knowing she won’t be attached to your hip anymore. “Gonna miss the little rugrat.” 

Daryl looks as if he’s going to ask a question before you hear the excited scream of your name. Your head snaps in the direction of the noise just in time to have a small body smack into you for a hug. Looking down you see the mop of brown hair before a face suddenly turns up to you with a bright smile. “Well look at you! You’ve grown up so much since the last time I saw you. How old are you now 10?” 

The boy scuffs at his family’s old friend, “No Aunt Y/N, I’m 14 now.” 

You can’t keep back the chuckle before rustling his hair. “Well I guess I’m a little behind on my calendar there buddy. So whats that make your dad now 60?” Carl laughs loudly while he tries to wiggle away. Looking up you see Rick walking back up to you with a small baby on his chest. “Well who is this sweet girl?” Rick rolls his eyes as he hands the little girl over to you. You can’t say that you aren’t at the least a little shocked and excited to see a baby in this world. 

“This is Judith, your niece.” As Rick says the words you can hear the sadness in his voice and the slight undertone of anger there. If it weren’t for you having known the Grimes family for as long as you have you don’t think you would have ever picked up on that. His face showing nothing but content happiness. 

“Is there anyone else here I may know?” Your question is hesitant and quiet with the hope that maybe your brother was still around. His face slips to that of grim sadness and a hint of something else that has you turning to pay more attention to the baby cooing in your arms. “That’s alright, we don’t have to talk about it. Right now I’m just glad to at least see you guys.” You ruffle Carl’s hair again lightly before turning back to Rick. 

“Well once you get settled in we will get someone to show you fence duty. How’s that sound?” You chuckle before readjusting the baby in your arms. 

“As long as I get to see this chunky kiddo more often I’d be happy to.” You hand Judith back to Rick only a little begrudgingly. 

Daryl offers to show you fence duty since his shift is next anyway. It’s a simple job that gives you far too much alone time to think than you’d like but it's exactly how you spend the next few weeks. 

Part 2

If you would like to be tagged in my works please feel free to message me and let me know who/what fandoms you’d like to be tagged in. I plan to write for at least The Walking Dead, Shameless(US), Marvel(MCU and Comics), DC(All), and Teen Wolf

Those who asked to be tagged. <3

@ghxstttttt

@pureblood-blake

@justwannabefrea

@kaitebugg03

@abbiesxox

@pureblood-blake

@sofi1sstuff

@lvspit

@green-eyedladywrites

@missborntodiex 

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

That was it.

(a new post? it's been months, bro!)

What -- Daryl had a dream featuring You. It's thrown him a little, ngl.

When -- the first day Daryl is bedridden following his two falling trips down the ridge in the episode Chupacabra. In the Slowpoke Series, it's a few hours after Redemption Arcs, which takes place the morning after Thank you, angel...

Who's in this one? -- Daryl, You, Carl, Lori

Perspective -- POV 3rd person Daryl

Relationships -- slow burn, currently platonic-but-confused Daryl x equally oblivious Reader

Pronouns - she/her

TWs -- some language, and reference to Daryl's childhood neglect, and ghastly screenshots with poor editing XD

Masterlist -- Official one here and Chronological one here

-----------------------------------

Her knock was recognizable and he got a rush in his stomach when he knew she was there. Three or four knocks, a pause, then one or two more knocks with some kind of greeting. This time, is was: “Daryl, you up for visitors?”

Was he ‘up for visitors?’

Ain’t like he’s some old dude in a nursing home, why would—oh shit, did this mean they found Sophia? Was Sophia the visitor?? “What is it?”

“It’s Carl’s first field trip out of bed other than for the toilet.”

“Y/N,” came Carl’s groan through the shut door.

“Carl,” she teased back back in the same tone of voice. “Mr. Dixon’s in the same boat, nerd, no leavin’ bed excepting for the facilities.”

Speaking for himself, the kid finally said, “I wanted to go see you first, Mr. Dixon.”

“Just—come in already,” Daryl grunted. He'd already tugged his bedsheets as high as they'd go, he was ready as he could get.

The knob turned, and as the two of them slowly walked in. He made himself relax when the nerves hit him at seeing Y/N.

It's stupid. His dumb ass started getting nervous around her this morning. Nervous around Y/N, of all the people here!

Daryl noticed Lori hovering by the doorway while Y/N and Carl walked in. She explained, “We don’t want to crowd you like yesterday. And we won’t stay too long, Y/N, Maggie and I will be going out for another sweep of our grid.”

The boy had more color than he did the other day when Daryl went to see him, which was good.

"The head wrap stuff they gave you looks cool," the kid told him. "I'm glad you didn't get hurt worse than you were. I heard you got hurt pretty bad." Slowly, Carl made his way to Daryl’s bedside and seemed beat doing it. “I would go out to help search today if I could. I was the only one of us who—well, other than you—who hasn’t gone out looking today. Beth’s older sister and Jimmy and his mom went, too.”

“Well, Mags came with us,” Y/N filled in. “Jimmy looked around the property and its perimeter only, but that’s because he got in trouble yesterday for joinin’ without permission. His mama searched with him to keep the peace.”

As the news hovered, rolled over him, then sunk in, it felt to Daryl as if were making him sink deeper into the mattress where he lay bandaged, bruised, and not much use to anyone.

He’d nearly died trying to find that little girl yesterday, found her doll. And after just about everyone went out searching today, and all them people came back with zip.

Daryl hated feeling helpless, and now he felt helpless, annoyed and angry.

Really, they all went out searching, and somehow all came back with nothing?

Carl kept chatting to him, but to his credit, Daryl didn’t snarl at him to shut up.

“I would’ve wanted to go to target practice, too. Did you know Mr. Douglas knows how to use guns? He told me he was an instructor, he’d started learning way a long time ago after something bad happened to this guy named Ronny King.”

“Rodney,” his ma corrected softly.

“I want to learn how to use a gun. How old were you when you learned, Mr. Dixon?”

Lori and Y/N reacted to the question in their own ways.

Y/N peeked at Lori and it looked like she was shrinking into her neck like a turtle as she walked to the window to get the stool for Carl to sit on.

Lori saw, shook her head and took it from Y/N’s hands, citing, “Let me, honey.” She placed it behind her son, then told him sternly, “You were just shot. Now’s not the time to discuss you using a gun.”

“But Mo—”

“We can talk about that with Dad later, okay, bud?”

“Y/N started learning to shoot when she was 8.”

That made Daryl blink, and it distracted him from his annoyance. His square, chick friend learned about using guns when she was 8?

Y/N gave her nephew a warning stare. “I learned because my own mama in our own circumstances made a decision for me that she determined would help keep me safe, the same way your mama’s makin’ one for you.”

He jut out his chin a little. “I would be safer with one. And I thought Shane taught you?”

“S-Sometimes babysitting me meant us goin’ to the range,” she allowed, eyeing Lori for help.

“Carl,” his ma told him, and with a look firm enough to make a nun cower. “That’s enough interrogating your aunt. We will talk about this with Dad when you’re able to leave bed for more than a few yards.”

“Okay,” the kid apologized, head lowering. “Sorry Mom, sorry Y/N.”

There were about three seconds of silence, tops, when the boy next asked Daryl, “Do you still think Sophia’s alive?”

Y/N froze, Lori tilted her head and looked Daryl in the eye warily.

As for Carl himself, he at least seemed hopeful. “If you could stay okay for nine days when you were a kid, Sophia can stay okay for five.”

Y/N’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. He'd told her the other day about it, then decided Carl should know to keep his spirits up.

Lori, who knew nothing about this, looked alarmed. “You went missing for nine days as a child, Daryl?” she repeated.

Daryl nodded, getting dizzy when he did. Wasn’t no big secret, just some dumb mistake he made when he was little. He'd figured that Carl staying hopeful and expecting people to find Sophia would keep the rest of the people here searching.

Y/N already knew about Daryl’s little nine-day accident, and Andrea; might as well let Lori in on it if it meant more people wouldn’t give up on Sophia.

“Yeah, nine days. Was perfectly fine, and that was with me bein’ nowhere near as sharp as Sophia, and without miles of farmhouses and shit around.” Daryl figured exaggerating might help Carl feel happy, so he added, “I was dumber than a post, and even I got away with only an itchy ass from using poison oak as toilet paper.”

It did make the kid smile, but then Carl whispered as if he was nervous, “Quarter.”

Y/N wasn’t nervous at all. “Two of ’em.”

Oh, right. Daryl had forgotten about the no-cuss-around-kids rule.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” is how Lori responded quietly to Daryl, then to his relief, she changed the subject back to asking Y/N how target practice went.

“Lore, did you know Teddy was good with guns?” Y/N shared. “I’d had zero idea.”

“He and Shane talked about being instructors on one of the first nights at the quarry.”

“Man, I missed that whole conversation.”

Lori smiled and began to fix the extra blanket that was crumpled on the side of Daryl’s bed.

Daryl almost missed what was being said because he was distracted by how casually nice that was. Damned thoughtful.

It was that moment when he noticed how he’d grown pretty okay with shooting the shit with these people. Wouldn’t seek it out, probably, but he wasn’t crawling out of his skin, neither. He really liked that the kid wanted to see him, too. It helped him feel like he wasn’t as big an asshole as he felt.

“You, Amy and Glenn were busy playing ‘I never’, if I’m remembering it.” Lori spread blanket out at the foot of the bed and folded it in an accordion-type way. “Either that night or the—no, sorry, it was the night everyone started talking about Bigfoot, the kids were sitting around you three. That was one of the first nights, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, right! We used up all the Tapatío, and this guy mentioned his chupacabra.” Y/N stuck the tip of her tongue out and lightly bit it, grinning big.

“Luis and me got so freaked out that night!” Carl joined in, suddenly as energetic as a little bunny-rabbit. “His older cousin told him all about Okefenokee Swamp, and, and the gators and the Pig Man and the Thing!”

“Your Aunt Evie and I camped with Grammy and Grandad at Okefenokee lots of times when I was a girl,” Lori told them both with a smile in her eyes. “Never saw the Pig Man or the Swamp Thing.”

“But they saw her,” Y/N mouthed to Carl. “Thank God we lived more upstate.”

That, Daryl could agree with, he even made a hum.

He was from way up north, close to the Tennessee border. But with this group that he’d stuck with for who-knows-why, to get to Fort Benning they’d driven far enough southwest that they was basically in Alabama.

“Yeah, you’re from further north, too, right?” Y/N sighed. “I’m so darn homesick, man. We’re just about on the fall line now, aren’t we? Driving to the city was one thing, close enough to home, but the roundabout, southwest mess we made trying to get to stupid Fort Benning was—w-we’re basically in Alabama!”

…His thoughts exactly.

“We’re further from Lake Lanier down here, though,” Carl said. Sounded like he was both trying to cheer her up and rib her. Inside joke most likely, Daryl guessed.

Y/N shivered at the name but couldn’t stop herself from breaking into a smirk, which made Carl crack up. After making a face at him, she looked at Daryl. “Dude, you’d have had a good time at practice.” Her smile grew and she leaned toward him. “As soon as it was time to try hittin’ the targets, Jimmy tried to shoot his pistol sideways.”

“What, all gangster?” he grunted back, glad that he wasn’t alone with her again. He liked didn’t mind being alone with her, but he obviously got smacked in the head a little too hard yesterday, seeing as he felt all nervous around her now. Really nervous. Like, so goddamned nervous, man, it’s good the boy and Lori are here, otherwise he’d be barely able to look her in the eyes.

Give it a day or two, he’d be fine.

“Teddy thinks Jimmy will have to undo Hollywood and video game gun stuff the next couple lessons.” She scrunched her nose, and wondered out loud, “Don’t know why that’s what they show in movies so often, that’s irresponsible firearm use. Oh! But the angled aim I guess is needed when one’s using a riot shield, right?”

His mouth lifted into a grin. Y/N could be such a square.

With that, she yawned and leaned on the side of the bed, causing it to dip down slightly. Daryl’s heart did a funny jolting type thing when she did, he inhaled too quickly as a result, which hurt his stiched side and bruised or broken ribs, so he then winced as a result of that.

“How long do we have ’til we head out again, Lore? I’m hittin’ my limit. Looks like Carl’s crashing, too, you doing okay, baby?”

The conversation that followed didn’t reach his head, Daryl was too distracted. The, um, the movement of the bed dipping as Y/N relaxed and reached back to massage her shoulder caused the memories from last night and the dream that followed to whoosh back to Daryl even harder.

His heartbeat did that funny thing again. And the helpless feeling he’d had, with its anger and annoyance, whittled away bit by bit.

A weird sensation replaced it.

He wasn’t sure that it was, but it felt like it was pressing him even further into the mattress.

So, the dream he had last night: Y/N was…laying down with him.

Nothing was going on, her arm was simply wrapped around him and he could feel her heartbeat against his chest. He remembers pressing his mouth to her head for a second, then she reached her hand to brush it across his temple or whatever, and they just laid there. That was it.

Really, that was it, the whole dream, nothing else went on. And he relieved but also...disappointed when he first woke up, saw the bed empty beside him, and figured out it was just a dream, ain’t that bullshit? Then he listened to Y/N's breathing where she lay on the air mattress and couldn't fall back asleep for what felt like a while.

He was all screwed up, wasn't he?

Granted, two days ago, her shirt had been soaked after they’d got caught in the storm and the outline of everything was clear as damn day. Like, sure, he’d turned his eyes away, but he’d still seen it and liked it! Then, yesterday during their argument when they’d suddenly been standing all close, he’d randomly imagined gripping her waist and crashing his mouth against hers before cupping her face so he could see if her cheeks were as soft as they looked, like what the in the balls was his deal? He ain’t mature enough to be friends with a chick or something? It’s never been a problem before, he used to barely even notice or care when he thought someone looked nice.

Her calling him all them pet names yesterday was enough, but, like, what was last night?

She literally massaged him. Who does that?

The massage had felt as if there were an angel, don’t get him wrong, he’d been in so much pain. But being touched so gently but so…close, and right on his bare skin, it made him feel something similar to scared.

It wasn’t ‘scary’ in that sense, that’s not it, it felt…weird. Again, he didn’t know how to phrase it.

Worse still was that he thinks he accidentally called Y/N “angel.”

Out loud.

He still ain’t sure, his sleep was too disjointed to tell if he was awake or not, but — she’d started massaging his feet, he knew that much! His feet had hurt so bad that he’d almost cried again when she’d started to rub them because it was just such relief.

Fast forwarding to this morning, when he’d made his managed to power his way all by himself out of bed (oh, it hurt like a bitch) and out of his room to find the pisser, of course the first thing he saw when he opened the door was Y/N, all sleepy-eyed, messy-haired, and wrapped in a blanket like he was.

And, of course, the first thing she did was help him walk by putting her good arm around his back. He could feel her warmth and heartbeat beside his chest again, and when he turned his head, his mouth collided with her head. Kinda hurt. And she smelled good.

But all that sent the dream he’d had, the one where she was laying next to him, crashing back all at once.

Plus the fear that she’d see him in his boxers again and/or notice how his morning wood (ain’t his fault, he’d only just woken up and he had to take a whiz real bad!) was the only thing pinging through his mind as she walked him to the toilet.

Then when her brother dropped off some of his stuff from his tent, he had a sneaking suspicion it was Y/N who’d been the one to gather it up. Mainly because she’d been the one who promised him someone would bring him some things, but also because nail clippers and a toothbrush were on top of the pile.

He then got the dumb idea in his head to be embarrassed at how his tent wasn’t real clean.

The past four days were batshit crazy; getting all nervous around a chick — probably the only person he truly feels okay with around here — is the stupidest damn thing. Still, he never had a person he felt so damn comfortable with other than Uncle Jesse, his little cousin, Merle, and his old lady neighbor from when he was a kid.

So much happened with Y/N the past few days. It was like they’d been stripped and beaten together, but got back home in one piece. He even hallucinated her talking to him when he’d fallen down the ridge. And that’s not even bringing up how he’d been chill with her seeing his scars yesterday, which was only after he okayed Dr. Farmer literally teaching her how do literal goddamn stitches on him!

Almost like yesterday, Daryl could imagine the way Merle would bust his balls. “I can’t tell if you’re actin’ like a little boy clinging to the kid who was nice to ’em on the jungle gym, or a clueless virgin nervous around the girl who’ll look him in the eyes long enough.”

Lucky for him, Carl wondered out loud: “Maybe Jimmy wanted to practice shooting sideways,” so Daryl was able to shut his mind up.

Next, Carl, who definitely looked ready to hit the sack, started miming holding a gun and aiming it to the side (as opposed to shooting it forward, just cocked to the side like Jimmy had, according to Y/N).

“No, ya nerd, like this,” Y/N snorted, and held out her good arm as if she were aiming a gun forward, then twisted her wrist sideways.

“Oh, the cool way to shoot!”

“Nooo.”

------------------------------------------

------------------------------------------

-> Masterlist link here <-

and our teeny tiny taglist :D

@spenciepoo338 @its-freaking-bats​​​​ @whistlesalot​​​​ @buffy-the-assbutt-slayer​​​​  @dreamingaboutthewonderland @kwazii-kat​ @darylsmavis​​​​​  @outlanderhornet22​​​​​ @battinsonrobs @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @multiifandomhoe @writingmybeloved @boomergirl123 @iheartathena0 @moonliight-luv @suniloli @supernaturalgirl02 @cnake-garden @daryldixmedown @sophehe @crashlyrose @virgo-sunflower920 @jennythe @theficbaker @vampireautism @rosetta196 @wifeof-barnes

(inbox is open if you would like on or off the taglist, slowpokes. Please don’t feel bad or nervous if you don’t want to be tagged anymore, just let me know in the inbox! We’re all friends here and your comfort level matters)  

[rickanddaryl]

Rick and Daryl fall in love

1 out of ?

Walking Dead

Rick x Daryl ♥️ ❤️ 💙

Chapter One (Rick)

Rick jerked awake with a gasp, his vision blurred and shaky. He smacked his lips together but found them dry and cracked.

"Shane, get me some water, would you?"

He held up a hand, ready to take the cup, but no answer came. In fact, there was no sound at all coming from the room.

"Shane stop dicking around, would you? My mouth feels like cotton."

Still no response came. Rick blinked his eyes roughly for a few seconds, clearing away the blurriness and last remnants of sleep fog. As he gazed around the room, he became more and more confused. There was no lights on in his room, and what was even curiouser was all the monitors by his bed were black, a thin layer of dust gathering in the edges.

"Shane? You in the John?"

When still no reply came, Rick threw back the covers and stood gingerly on his feet. Besides some minor pain in his side he felt surprisingly fine. As he shuffled along the linoleum tile, his mind was racing a mile a minute. Questions like where is Shane? Where's the staff? And where's my damn pants? Raced through his mind on a loop.

But those questions quickly left his mind as he slowly made his way through the hospital corridor. Lights hung from the ceiling, blood smeared the walls, and bodies peppered the floor. Rick couldn't believe his eyes, had to hold a hand to his mouth to stop himself from heaving. Moans and groans could be heard to his right, and he thought finally. some people who can give me some damn answers. but as he rounded the corner, that hope quickly died. Because two doors were chained together, and almost as an after thought a board was shoved between the handles. don't open. dead inside. was written on the doors in what Rick hoped was paint. He decided he did not want to know what was behind those doors.

He all but fell down the stairs, needing to get the fuck out of the hospital and find some help. Rick shoved open the level one doors and raised a trembling hand to block the harsh outdoor light and stepped outside. He quickly wished he had stayed in the hospital. He couldn't believe his eyes at how many dead bodies were piled in rows. Some looked to be five people deep. He couldn't stay there long. All he could think about was getting home to his family, make sure they were safe, and then figure out what the hell was going on.

He stole a kids bicycle and raced home as fast as he could. Just as he turned onto his street, he heard a lone whistle pierce the air. Looking around quickly, he didn't see anyone. Unfortunately, he also didn't see the rock that was thrown in front of his front tire, which sent him flying over the handle bars onto the grass. The world spun as he looked up at the sky in a crumpled heap on the ground.

"Well well well. Look at what we have here. How the hell did you get outta the hospital alive, boyo?" A grizzled stranger stepped into Rick's eyesight, leaning over to look into his eyes.

"And why did not occur to you to put on some damn pants?"

[imagineanythings]

Whiskey Warmth Chapter 2

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Words: 9.5k

Chapter 2/2

Read Chapter 1

Before long, he could barely hear the gentle, even wisps of her breathing over the truck’s engine and there was that burning feeling again, whiskey in his throat. It went down smooth and pooled in a ball of warmth in his stomach. He didn’t hate it. Daryl has always been quiet, stoic, and a realist. On the road he meets someone with a completely different outlook on life. She's a rare ray of sunshine a world that loves to block out all light, but can she keep that light alive?

Follows the plot of the show from post CDC up until Alexandria

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, referenced attempted sexual assault

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The family reunion unfortunately didn’t last long. Despite their best efforts to arm themselves and prepare, those Terminus pricks were organized. Rick, Daryl, Glenn, and Bob had been separated from the rest of the group when all hell had broken loose. They were making a mad dash back to where everyone else was hopefully fighting their way through when one of the Terminus assholes caught Daryl’s eye. He was a lanky guy wearing a distinct silver pendant on a necklace around his neck. Fire burned behind Daryl’s eyes and suddenly he could see nothing else. The group was moving quickly, and it was important that they stay in formation, but Daryl’s feet had already begun long before his brain could catch up. The rest of the world was drowned out seamlessly; cries to stay with the group barely even registered while Daryl was ducking behind a car, crouching and moving around it to position himself behind the Terminus idiot. Said idiot was firing haphazardly, everything moving a target, his eyes fixed ahead of him. Daryl wasted no time in grabbing him from behind and driving his stolen knife deep into the idiot’s back. He would have preferred a stab to the head or a slice to the neck, it would have been neater and ended things much faster, but if he could manage it, he wanted to keep blood off of that pendant. He removed the necklace as quickly as his shaking fingers would allow without breaking it and rushed to join back up with the group.

By some miracle everyone made it over the fence. And suddenly Carol was there, and Tyreese and Judith too, and it all felt too good to be true. Daryl felt like he was in some crazy dream. He half expected to jolt awake in some old warehouse with the claimers again. He likely wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but he even gave himself a hard pinch on the arm just to make sure it all was real. For once in his life, Daryl Dixon had actually had some good luck. His group had nowhere to go, and no real sense of direction, but their little family was back together again, and that was all Daryl needed to feel at home. He was never really a “four walls and a roof” kind of guy anyway.

When they finally set up camp for the night, Daryl volunteered to take first watch. He placed himself on a large stump where he watched everyone begin to settle in for the night and Y/N came to sit beside him. For a moment he could almost imagine he was back in the guard tower, as she settled down beside him and her side pressed up against his, except for that haunted, empty look on her face.

“Missed coming to see you on watch.” She said after a small sigh. She ran her fingers through her hair and rubbed her face for a moment. “Missed knowing you were there on watch at all,” she said, much quieter, face still in her hands. Daryl grunted, hoping it would convey everything he couldn’t find the words to say. I’m sorry I wasn’t there and I missed ya too and I’m here to watch yer back now and maybe even I care about ya so damn much, I damn near lost it when I thought I lost you. He wasn’t sure if any of it came through.

“Grabbed somethin’ for ya on the way out.” His voice broke the few moments of stillness and silence. He pulled the necklace out of his pocket and looked down at it in his hands for a moment. There was a small speck of dried blood on the pendant that he carefully wiped off before handing her the chain. He heard her breath catch in her throat and looked over to find tears in her eyes. The necklace was enclosed in her hands as she pressed it to her lips. She took a shaky breath and looked over at Daryl, eyes watery and red-rimmed. She held her hands out towards him, “Could you?” She asked quietly. His eyes moved from her face down to her hands, then back to her face. He nodded, and took the necklace back as she turned her back to him.

He reached up and gently pushed her hair to one side, he felt her inhale sharply as his fingers brushed the back of her neck. “Sorry” she spoke quietly as she quickly pulled her hair out of the way. Daryl quickly clasped the necklace, trying not to notice the goosebumps running over her soft skin, or the way she felt cool to the touch.

She reached up and held the pendant against her chest in a clenched fist, her eyes closed as she seemed to savor the feeling of the chain around her neck once again. Daryl shifted a bit uncomfortably. She opened her eyes and Daryl found them once again on the verge of overflowing. “Thank you Daryl. This-” her mouth hung open but no sound came out for a long moment. He gave her time. As she met his eyes she seemed to find her words again. “This means everything” She leaned in and planted a gentle, lingering kiss on his cheek and then wrapped her arms around him for a quick moment. When she pulled back her eyes were red and puffy and full of an aching, empty sadness that Daryl knew all too well, but the corners of her mouth were upturned ever so slightly. Daryl would have given anything, done anything to see that full smile again.

With a gentle touch on the arm and about a million more whispered “thank you”s, she returned to her spot on the ground and the rest of the group settled down quickly, exhausted by their long day. Daryl surveyed his sleeping family and felt, for even just the briefest of moments, like maybe everything was going to be ok again.

Their group was tough. They always had been, if they hadn’t they never would have made it this far. That’s why they were all so shocked when they found that priest in the woods, talking about “the lord being all the protection he needed” or something like that. Personally, to Daryl that sounded like a one way ticket to meeting the big guy himself, if he’s even still up there. Daryl wasn’t so sure on any of that to begin with anyway. Even though they decided to stay in the church for the night, something didn’t sit right with Daryl. His hands twitched as he felt that familiar gut instinct to make himself scarce. He was outside dealing with Carol’s anxieties too when he saw that car with the same goddamn cross from when he lost Beth.

The decision took Daryl exactly five seconds. He looked at Carol. She didn’t trust the creepy father anyway and her face was set. She was in. He took a deep breath and looked at his own hands. He lost Beth, failed her. He didn’t protect her when he promised he would. He now had a chance to make good on that promise. Finally, he looked back towards the church. Maggie deserved to see her sister again, after all she’d lost. And Y/N. Beth was the only person who had ever rivaled her in optimism. She had taken Maggie and Beth in like her sisters. If there was any possibility, however slim, that bringing Beth back could light up her face the way it used to, then he would run after that car until the soles of his shoes wore out and then keep on going barefoot. All of those thoughts ran through Daryl’s head in the short span of a few glances, and in an instant, they were following at a safe distance, headlights out.

And they had actually found Beth. He had gotten Carol into a mess herself, but he had found her. And he was within mere moments of getting her back when the gunshot rang out. He could practically feel her arms wrapping around him, see that sweet smile and that inquisitive look when it all came crashing down. She was ripped away from him, he felt the part of her that she had managed to root in Daryl during their time together be torn violently from his chest. He had tried to prepare himself for the worst but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer agony that was no one’s fault but his own. Beth had fused herself to him, embedded her spirit in his veins, in the very blood that fueled his heart, into his muscles and organs, his very cells. When she hit the ground it was all ripped out in reluctant, clinging sinews.

Y/N had come with them, intent on helping bring back her friend. Daryl had to keep his eyes glued to Beth, her pretty golden hair matted with blood, a chunk of her skull and brain gone, her lifeless corpse now on the ground after a final moment of strength and defiance. Daryl felt a part of himself shatter as he watched. And yet, he knew he could only watch Beth, because if he turned around and saw the parts of Y/N that he had just destroyed he would never be whole again. No matter how much was ripped violently from him as he watched Beth, he knew it would be a paper cut compared to seeing the devastation he caused Y/N.

So instead he stepped forward and raised the barrel of his gun to that woman’s head and put a bullet between her goddamn eyes. It didn’t make him feel any better but at least it ended it. He might have kept shooting if he hadn’t felt a hand on his shoulder. She didn’t need to speak, and he didn’t need to even look at her, but at Y/N’s distinctive touch Daryl lowered his head and his weapon. He steeled himself and tried to maintain his composure, but with the gun Y/N also pulled away his rage and anger that had been keeping him together. As he looked down at what used to be Beth, the warmth of Y/N’s touch receded and the cold, unbridled tears began to fall.

He allowed himself a few moments before he picked Beth up in his arms, wondering why she seemed like she was smaller now than he remembered her being at the cemetery. He whispered in her ear, hoping that it would reach her somehow “I’m so sorry girl. I screwed up. I’m sorry.” He planted a soft kiss on her hair, and if he focused on just that one section right in front of his eyes, that small bit of unmarred, unbloodied blonde, he could almost imagine everything was normal, that he was just carrying her again because of her messed up ankle and not because he let some pig put a goddamn hole through her head.

And finally, after all that, his cheeks streaked and stained with tears and blood, and sweet, gentle Beth now lifeless in his arms, he had to turn around. He knew what was waiting behind him but he never could have prepared himself for what he was going to see. Y/N stood there, a violent splatter of her friend’s blood streaked across her shirt and face. She still held Daryl’s gun in her left hand, her right was balled into a fist at her side. Her eyes were wildly jumping around, focusing on Daryl, on Beth in Daryl’s arms, on the dead woman on the ground. He expected a look of horror, he had tried to prepare himself to see the woman he cared about most in the world fall apart in front of him, for that last shred of optimism and light to get ripped from his chest like everything else as he killed the last light he had. But besides the wide, slightly crazed look in her eyes, she looked almost calm. Her brow was furrowed, and her face seemed completely set. He could see the tension in her jaw from where he stood and he knew she was anything but calm, yet her eyes were clear, and she didn’t let her face betray her and indicate her emotions. Her eyes came to a rest on Daryl’s and she held his gaze for a brief moment before turning abruptly and stalking out of the building.

Daryl carried Beth the rest of the way outside and to the group. He tried so hard to hold back his tears, which he had worked to slowly gain control of as he walked through the building, because he knew the hell Maggie had to be going through. He didn’t want to make it worse with the sight of him blubbering like some baby and feeling sorry for himself. When he finally set her down to let the rest of the group take care of her he slid off to the other side of some cars and let out a violent sob. His whole body shook as he cursed whatever semblance of a god could possibly still be out there somewhere. Beth was one of the best of them. She didn’t deserve this. It still didn’t feel real, even as Daryl gingerly began to wipe her blood off of his hands. Even after feeling the weight of her completely limp body in his arms, Daryl still couldn’t comprehend that she was gone. The Georgian heat suddenly felt all consuming and Daryl felt like he was suffocating. As he placed his head in his hands he heard a quiet “hey” from above him. Y/N stood over him, no discernable emotion apparent in her features. Her face looked set, as if she was determined to maintain a neutral facade no matter what. That cold neutrality was becoming an increasingly and unsettlingly familiar look on her.

“Head up Dixon, we can’t afford to have you down like this.” It was all logic, no comfort. She held a hand out to him, which he took reluctantly. Her grip was tight and before he could prepare himself or start to push himself up he was yanked forcibly off the ground. In a split second he went from being face to face with the tips of her boots to staring into her eyes, their hands still tightly grasped between their chests. She moved to pull away but he held tight, searching her face for something, anything. He was all too aware of his wet cheeks, the puffiness around his eyes obscuring his vision, and yet he didn’t care. He was too busy looking for any of it on her.

Her eyes darted to his cheeks, and he could see her brow furrow and her lip quiver for just a moment, and he finally let go of her hand. He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened immediately, and for a moment Daryl wondered if this is what it had felt like to hug him for so long. “Dixon, I’m fine. This is just part of-” she began to speak and it seemed like she was trying to squirm away.

“Shut up woman. Ain’t for you,” He said into the crook of her neck, where he had buried his face. He felt her relax a bit and wrap her arms around him the way she used to. For a single moment, as she reached up and rubbed circles on his back, Daryl could almost imagine that things had never changed, and that when he pulled away he would see a blinding light looking back at him and he would feel a warmth in his chest that almost felt like hope.

Instead a ghost met his eyes as they separated. Her eyes looked more sunken in than he remembered, and if he looked closely he was sure he could see the shine of tears forming. She reached up, patted him on the shoulder, gave him a quiet “take care now Dixon,” and a brief kiss on the cheek before she turned to head back to the group.

And just like that they were on the run again. Always moving, never settling, never enough resources for everyone. Daryl had taken to passing Y/N his food after taking a bite or two, and pretending that he didn’t notice when she gave all of it to Carl or anyone else who looked like they could use an extra portion. Although if he was being honest, that was pretty much everyone these days. At least this time they were heading somewhere, they had a goal in mind, they weren’t just chasing their tails trying not to get caught in the middle of a herd.

The group was moving slowly, a small group of walkers had begun to form behind them. They weren’t fast enough to be much of a threat, but no one was strong enough to handle them at the present moment. Y/N began throwing anxious glances over her shoulder every minute or so. Daryl could see the gears working in her brain, she was taking stock of the number of walkers, their group’s numbers and weapons, the terrain, everything that could impact the fight. He tried to remember if she had been this calculated and strategic, if he had ever known this version of her before. He pushed his pace a bit and fell into stride beside her. He held out his water bottle. “Water?” he asked. She stared at the bottle for a moment before slowly accepting. She took a small sip and handed it back with yet another glance over her shoulder. “Thanks” She said, but she was scowling. Daryl looked back and saw that the number of walkers had increased yet again.

“Nothin’ we can do about ‘em now” he said. She just shrugged.

“We can’t let our guard down. We’ve gotta take care of them before nightfall and I’m not risking this getting out of control with no backup plan if we don’t find a way to do that.”

“Gonna break yer neck whippin’ yer head back and forth like that” He said with a small shake of his head, hoping maybe that would draw even a small laugh out of her, but instead he was met with cold, determined silence. He followed her lead and set his eyes forward, and they walked along like that for a while, neither speaking, Y/N still checking behind her every minute.

Finally they reached a small bridge and Rick declared that they could make a stand here. Daryl looked over and saw a satisfied smirk on Y/N’s face. She didn’t show teeth and any joy she seemed to be feeling didn’t reach her eyes. Daryl felt a chill run through him as she reached down and pulled a knife from her belt. She had picked it up sometime after the prison fell and never went anywhere without it now. It was a long, cruel, menacing, military blade that glinted in the sun as she reflexively twirled it around her fingers once before setting her grip. She joked once that she had named it Vlad, after Vlad the impaler, and the self-satisfied smirk that painted her lips when Daryl let out a surprised chuckle was one of the closest things to a genuine smile he’d seen on her in a long time.

“Shouldn’t need that unless things go south” Rick said, much to Daryl’s relief. “We stay in formation, draw them to the side of the bridge, get ‘em off balance, and let ‘em fall.” Rick spoke with easy confidence and Y/N sheathed her knife with a disappointed, yet still respectful nod of understanding.

Everything was going according to plan when Sasha stepped forward and broke formation. They had only gotten through less than half of the herd when everyone had to pull out their weapons and fight. Daryl watched from further back with his bow, dropping the walkers he could, but the fighting was making it difficult to get a clean shot. Plus he kept getting distracted watching Y/N. There was a coldness and a level of skill to the way she moved that hadn’t been there at the prison. This was not the same woman who used to clumsily spar with him, throwing weak punches and tripping over her own feet. She could always take care of herself well enough, especially against walkers, but this ferocity was different from anything he’s ever seen her express. Daryl had to tear his eyes away from her and rush into the fight when he saw a walker approaching Rick from behind.

After Daryl dealt with the Walker that damn near cost Rick an arm, the fight ended quickly. Michonne looked like she wanted to wring Sasha’s neck and everyone looked fully drained. Y/N was standing in the middle of a pile of corpses, rotting blood matted down her hair and covered her clothes. Her eyes were glassy and blank, darting around and focusing on nothing in particular as she breathed heavily. Daryl walked over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and she jerked in response. Her hand with the knife came up for half a second before her eyes centered on Daryl, who stood unflinching as she exhaled heavily. That feral look in her eyes melted away and the grimace of a smile she had been wearing drained from her face. He thought he almost caught a hint of shame in her eyes before she wiped her knife down on her shirt and sheathed it, lowering her gaze. Daryl let out a sort of questioning grunt, a wordless are you ok? Do you want to talk about any of that? But she dismissed him with a shake of her head, eyes unmoving from the pile of fresh corpses on the road. A whistle sounded from the front of the group and Daryl watched her eyes mechanically focus forward as she fell back into step with everyone else.

The days had all begun to blur together, the group moving, resting, hiding, running, aching, moving again. Honestly no matter how much of the other stuff they did, it felt like they were always just moving. Daryl looked around at the gaunt and fatigued faces of his family all around him and felt once again that feeling of utter and complete failure creeping in. He was so lost in his thoughts of how he was going to make it up to everyone that he almost didn’t notice the jugs and bottles of water tagged with a little note in the middle of the road. He eyed the offering suspiciously. As much as he wanted so badly to just believe that whoever left this really was a friend, after everything they’d been through it was much easier to believe this was a trap, or an attack, or a million other things that would get them all killed.

He hadn’t really been paying attention to the conversation when he heard Y/N speak up. He wasn’t sure exactly who or what she was responding to as she spoke, but her words made his skin crawl. “Goddammit let’s just keep fucking moving. There aren’t ‘good people’ anymore. There are no ‘friends’ ok? We are all we have. Everyone else will try to destroy that.” She shook her head, narrowed her eyes at a shaking Eugene, and turned to keep walking when the rain began to fall from the sky.

Daryl had never seen the air between everyone shift so suddenly, and he’d never seen relief like the looks of shock and excitement on his family’s faces. Everyone was staring up at the sky, some laughing, some crying, even Y/N’s lips had parted in amused shock as her eyes lifted to the sky. It was the happiest he’d seen her since he’d found her again.

Turns out the water really was from a “friend” or at least someone who wanted to help. That Aaron guy seemed pretty alright as far as Daryl could tell. He brought them back to his community, Alexandria, and the tension Daryl had been carrying for months was about to slip away when he looked over and saw Y/N’s eyes scanning the walls, brow quirked and skeptical. She was chewing on her lip. When had she picked that habit up? Daryl tried to remember if she’d always done that. Seemed that these days it was getting harder and harder to remember who she was back at the prison.

They complied with the gun policy, did the required interviews, and were led to their houses. The choice to all stay in one house for the night was simple and unanimous. People were still on edge, Daryl could feel it, but behind walls, in a house with electricity and running water, he could sense the tension slowly draining, the exhaustion of months of running finally taking its toll. He looked around the house for Y/N, but she was nowhere to be found until he spotted her through the window.

The cool night air drove out the stifling humidity of the day as the wood of the porch railing jutted into her skin where she balanced there, staring into the night. “That can’t be comfortable” Daryl called from behind her but she just shrugged, not even turning to look at him. He took a few steps forward and just waited. Easy silence hung between them for a long stretch of time. Eventually she turned her head and caught his eye.

“What’s going on, Dixon?” She raised an eyebrow and turned back to face the street again.

“Jus’ wanted ta let ya know the shower’s open in ya wan it. Everyone else’s gone.” She let out a suffocated laugh.

“I can smell from here that that’s just not true.” A half chuckle, hald grunt came from behind her and her lips curled upwards.

“Take a shower, woman. No one’s gonna slip by all us while yer off guard” She simply shrugged. He took a few steps forward and sat beside her on the railing. He felt their bodies pushed up against each other shoulder to shoulder and the warmth felt like home. A half-hearted laugh fell from her lips as her narrowed eyes scanned the homey little street.

“Not quite the view from the guard tower but it’ll do.” She spoke softly. He grunted affirmatively and when she leaned her head on his shoulder suddenly it did feel like the prison guard tower sat right there on the ground in that little Virginian town.

Against him she shuddered as a breeze ran through them. “Gonna go warm up?” He watched her closely from the side of his eye. She sighed.

“A shower does sound nice.” She relented and lifted her head, scanning the area one last time before looking over at him. “Show me where it is?” He gave an affirming nod and grunt in response before getting up and holding the door open for her. He showed her to the bathroom and then headed off to check on the rest of the group.

After checking on Carl and Judith, taking another look around the house for exits, weak points, and hiding spots, and checking in with Rick, he was on his way back downstairs when he heard her voice coming from the bathroom. It drew him in and instinctively he leaned closer to the door to hear more. It took a few moments but he realized she was singing. Her voice was clear and bright, exactly like he would have imagined it. Just as she had at one point, it seemed to float effortlessly above everything else, gentle and sweet amongst the darkness they lived in. He wasn’t entirely familiar with the tune, but with another step closer he began to make out some words

“If I die young, bury me in satin, lay me down on a bed of roses, sink me in the river at dawn, send me away with the words of a love song.”

He chose not to listen past that point, and instead hurried down the stairs and out the front door to take watch on the porch again. He sat there for a while, staring out into the night, manually forcing his lungs to open and close.

He heard her first, he could spot her mostly even but slightly hesitant gait anywhere. Ever since she had picked up that blade her right leg dragged just the slightest bit because of the weight, he could hear it now in just the few steps she took. So she was clean but still armed, he figured. He’d take his wins where he could get them.

Light steps led straight to him and the gentle hand on his shoulder confirmed the identity he already knew. He turned to look at her and his breath caught in his throat for a millisecond. She wore clean clothes, like he had guessed, her knife was still strapped to her thigh, and her hair hung, wet, messily framing her face. Her features were suddenly so strong when not obscured by a layer of grime and dirt. Her eyes were soft in a way that he hadn’t seen in who knows how long, and he slowly realized that after all this time he had begun to forget what she really looked like.

“You ok?” Her voice held a gentleness he had firmly believed to be dead prior to this moment. He nodded and she settled down beside him again.

“Are you gonna shower at some point? It actually was nice.” She offered and he grunted with a shrug. “Feels good to be clean,” she observed but was met with more silence. “I’m worried about feeling too good too fast though. About letting our guard down before we know it’s safe.” He nodded.

“I know whatcha mean, I’m worried about that too. Feels like this place might be alright though,” Her eyes widened in shock as he spoke.

“You’re the last person I would’ve expected to hear that from, Dixon.” He shook his head.

“Well, yer the first one I’d’ve expected it from. But look at us now.” he bit back unintentionally. They sat in the silence and he sighed. “Don’t know. Maybe ‘s jus’ wishful thinkin’, but feels like the people here are jus’ stupid, not dangerous.” She sighed in response and a small silence separated them. He could feel her thinking it over, could practically hear her mind running at a million miles per hour through the possibilities. For once, he was the one to break the silence.

“Haven’t gotten the chance to sit down and talk like this, jus’ the two of us, for real, since...” He paused, sadness spreading with the realization “not since the prison.”

He could see the tears in her eyes. “Never even got a real chance to catch up, did we? On all that we missed?” That drew a sad sort of chuckle from deep in his chest, more an attempt to fill the space than an expression of emotion. “You first?” she offered and grunted affirmatively.

He gave her a brief overview of his time alone with Beth, losing her, that much she’d heard bits and pieces of. Then he got to the claimers. He tried to keep details of that to a minimum, didn’t like thinking about them longer than he needed to. Then finding Rick, following the tracks, and getting back to everyone. She listened attentively, and rested a warm hand on his arm when he finished.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through all that, and I’m so glad you made it back to us” Her words felt genuine and held kindness reminiscent of a person she used to be. Despite the overflow of tears in her eyes he could detect some happiness present in her voice.

“Alright, I’ve said more ‘n enough, yer turn” a sorry attempt to deflect away from the level of emotion he’d caused, but she wiped her tears and nodded nonetheless.

“Honestly, it sucked” a defeated laugh escaped with the words before she steadied herself and continued. “I was with a few people at first. Three guys from Woodbury I think. No one I was really close to, but they were all I had left. I wanted to stay and look for everyone, but at that point they figured we should just cut our losses and move on. I was outvoted. So we moved, bottom line just tried to keep moving and stay alive. We did ok for a bit. Moved between grocery stores, gas stations, that kind of stuff. One day we took a pretty long trip, the town we had been in for a while was plucked dry. We drove some of the way but gas was scarce so we ended up having to walk. Ran into a small group of walkers but it wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle. Except...” her voice broke and Daryl could see the tears falling freely. “Except when we had taken care of the walkers next thing I knew there was a knife at my throat. Didn’t even have time to react, these men killed the guys I was with, all at once. And I was alone” She swallowed before continuing. “So they had me there, I can still feel the knife against my throat. And I realize if they just wanted us dead, I wouldn’t still be standing. And it all...” she rubbed her shaking hands on her pants and let out a shallow exhale. “It all clicked... what they wanted with me” her voice completely failed by that last word and Daryl reached out and took her hand. His blood was boiling but he used every ounce of self control he had to appear calm for her.  

“Ya don’t have ta go into all this if ya don’t want to,” he was reassuring but she shook her head.

“No, it’s probably better not to keep it all inside.” He nodded and let her take her time before starting again. She took deep breaths and when she finally spoke again her voice had a deliberate and practiced evenness to it. “I wasn’t gonna let them. I was gonna die before I let them do anything to me. I fought. But there were too many of them. Few of them suggested they just kill me, cause it’d be ‘easier’ that way. In that moment I was so sure...” she paused for a long moment and let only the sound of her labored breathing hang between them. “I was so sure I was going to die. They almost had me completely knocked out when someone came in faster than I could keep track of in that state and took them all out. She saved me. I don’t like to think about what would have happened if she hadn’t been there.”

He could see her body shaking and squeezed her hand tighter in his, running his thumb over her knuckles. She gave him an appreciative nod and continued.

“She let me stay with her. She was set up in this apartment over an old record store, it was a weird place but she had it tricked out well enough that it worked. She taught me how to fight, how to stay alive on my own. Kind of like how you used to, except this time I had real, genuine horror keeping me motivated. I owe her everything. She taught me how to be ok on my own, and how to protect myself.. She showed me how important it was to be strong and prepared. One day we went on a run and a herd swept through. We were caught completely off-guard and we were stuck. She gave me her knife and told me to run and not look back, that she could lure enough of them away for me to get out and then she’d loop back to me. I did what she told me, but she never made it to the meeting point.” She choked on a sob and took a heavy inhale. “I waited, Daryl.” His heart ached at the grating of her voice, the audible effect of tears clogging her vocal chords as her knuckles turned white gripping the knife at her side. “But the area was getting swarmed again, if I waited much longer I’d never make it out. So I left.” At this point he wrapped an arm around her and let her head rest on his shoulder.

“She gave me everything she had and more. I could never repay her, not in a million years. And I left her to die. So I kept running, because what else could I do? And that’s when I found the signs for Terminus. I honestly wasn’t even thinking about the group at that point. I had mourned all of you. I thought all of you were gone. I just wanted to stop. ‘Sanctuary for all’ seemed like a pretty good place to go. So I went. And against all odds I actually found everyone. And I’m never going to let anything happen to the people I care about ever again.”

Daryl sighed and wrapped both of his arms around her for a proper hug. “Shit woman, ya really been through hell.” He squeezed a bit tighter as he inhaled her scent. She smelled clean, far too clean to touch, and he instinctively pulled away. “Ya know ya can’t always control that kinda stuff.” He said and let her take his hand again.

“Yeah, but it’s better than doing nothing, or being unprepared like I used to be.” She said with a sigh and he nodded.

“Ya changed a lot. Since the prison.”

“How so?” her eyebrow raised the tiniest bit as she spoke and he was genuinely baffled that she didn’t see what felt like night and day to him.

“Ya used to be this...” he fumbled for a few moments before he found what he needed, “this big ball of light, mos’ optimistic person I’ve ever met. Ya grew up a bit. Let the darkness of everything get to ya. I mean, I-I heard ya singin in th’ shower, and ya got a real pretty voice, I jus’ wish ya wouldn’t sing such a sad song. And I haven’t seen ya smile, I mean really smile, since the prison. Yer still my sunshine, but ya got stuck in some crap weather if ya don’t mind me sayin’.” Her eyes widened as she processed his words, and he let her take her time. He could see the gears turning, she was going through all of it, trying to connect the dots, to prove him wrong somehow. He watched her search her catalog for smiles and her face fall as she came up empty handed. “Ya used ta see the bright side of everythin’, now I’m lucky if ya even smirk. It’s like... like I don’t know how ta keep my head up if I ain’t got ya there ta remind me” He didn’t think, just let the words he’d been holding onto come out but her shocked expression made him wish he’d just kept his trap shut.

“Didn’t realize that was my responsibility.” Her voice faltered. “I’m sorry I let you down.” She trembled slightly as she stood up to walk away but he caught her wrist in an echo of something that felt like a whole lifetime ago, the same gentle question of a grasp.

“Ya didn’t do anythin’ wrong. Ya been through a lot.” his voice was low and earnest. She held eye contact with him for a moment before she pulled herself away and bolted for the door. He watched her go, and as the door closed behind her the air felt much colder than it had a moment ago.

Deanna came around later that night assigning people jobs. Daryl did not receive one. He was a bit shocked, seeing as this version of the world was the only one that he ever really felt useful in, but he tried to push those feelings of inadequacy down. Y/N was assigned to the infirmary, and Daryl couldn’t help but reminisce on all the times she stitched him up, how his body would be littered with deep, gnarly scars by now if not for her delicate and gentle hands. It stung when she refused to talk to him for a few days. Seemed like she wasn’t doing much talking to anyone except for Rick and Maggie at that point. She was still chewing her bottom lip and darting glances towards the exits throughout the day. She eyed the guards on top of the wall suspiciously and never returned the hello’s of Alexandrians passing by. A pit sat heavy in Daryl’s stomach as he watched her remain tight and guarded against all the signs that it could be time to relax. She would come home from the infirmary and settle into her watchful position on the front porch, cleaning her knife and scanning the horizon. Daryl wanted to talk to her but unsurprisingly he found himself lacking the words. Plus she clearly didn’t want to talk to him. She would barely look at him these days.

When Aaron approached Daryl about becoming his partner for recruiting, Daryl couldn’t say yes fast enough. He was getting stir crazy inside the walls with nothing to do, plus he couldn’t really stand to watch Y/N like this anymore. He had tried staying close and being insistent and sharing his feelings and all that got him was iced out. He needed space and open air to just breathe. Within a few days he was packing up to go out on his first run. As he was closing up his bag, he was shocked to see Y/N come storming into the room, her eyes alight with anger.

“So you were just gonna leave? You weren’t planning on telling me you’d taken this job or saying goodbye?” Her breathing was heavy, her face was flushed, he figured she had come running straight from the infirmary and felt some inexplicable pang in his chest.

“Ain’t leavin’ fer good, woman. Just a run.” He kept his tone calm and nonchalant but she wasn’t having it.

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s just a run! You’re going to just leave me here? With these people?” Her voice broke a bit and he could hear genuine fear in it.

“People are fine. A bit clueless, but harmless. And I know ya can take care of yerself.” He began. “Plus ya haven’t seemed to need me much since the first night.” He added, much quieter.

“Dixon I-” she began but the words seemed to catch in her throat. She closed her mouth and thought for a minute, and Daryl gave her the space to do so. “They aren’t all clueless. Some of them are just bad.” She took a shaky breath. “Like...” She seemed to be forcing the words out at this point. “Like Pete. He says all this stuff and tries to grab at me all the time and I think he’s hurting his wife and sons and I don’t know if I can work in the infirmary anymore Daryl. I just can’t be in there with him and I know I’ve been distant, I’m sorry, I just needed space to think, I just can’t be there with him if you’re not here. What am I supposed to do if he does something?” Once she had started, the words came rushing out like air from a balloon and now she stood in front of him, anger all gone, looking deeply deflated.

“Didn’t know that. Don’ really know the guy.” Daryl started, proceeding quietly and with some caution and care. “Ya don’t have ta go there. We can talk ta Deeana, get ya reassigned. And Rick’s gonna be here, ya know you can always go to him.” Daryl reached out and took her hand. She squeezed his hand and then pulled him close and buried her face in his chest. Daryl held her tightly, smoothing down her hair and trying to be as comforting as he could. She let out a deep sigh and he could feel her body expand and contract with the breath.

“I want to help people. I’m good at it. I’ve gotta keep doing it. I just don’t understand why you have to go.”

“It’s my job, ‘s what I’m good at. Same as you, I gotta do it. Gotta earn my keep ‘round here.” He spoke with a sigh. “Won’t be gone more than a few days, promise yer gonna be ok.” He tilted her chin up so she could look at him. “‘N if that bastard tries anything, ya tell me when I get back and Imma cut his fuckin’ hands off.” He spoke with deadly seriousness and was absolutely shocked when she burst out into a genuine giggle. It wasn’t quite the sunbeam smile he’d been longing for, but it still felt like an oasis in the desert.

Hope filled his chest as she whispered a quiet “thank you, you be careful out there and come back safe for me ok?” and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“You got it.” He said and she looked the most relaxed he’d seen her in a long time.

The run was a lot more intense than Daryl had expected, although he welcomed the distraction. It was nice to just think about surviving and finding people, to not have so many complex thoughts and emotions to keep track of. They met Rick’s friend Morgan while in a tough spot and brought him back to Alexandria with them. They made it back just in time to see Rick kill Pete. Daryl could sense the tension and possibly fear in Morgan beside him but he, personally, was grateful. He had spent much of his time outside the walls thinking about the ways he’d kill that bastard himself if he laid a hand on Y/N or anyone else. As Morgan and Rick stared each other down for a long moment, each assessing the person they thought they knew, Daryl scanned the crowd. He found her almost instantly. She was staring at Pete’s body with that cold neutrality that he had come to hate so much. He made his way through the crowd to stand next to her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Shame Rick beat me to it, had a whole plan to skin the bastard alive,” She broke from her stupor and looked up at Daryl in surprise. After a moment of shock she threw her arms around Daryl’s neck and clung to him tightly. “You’re back” she said, and he allowed a slight warmth of hope to radiate from within him as he thought he could hear a hint of a smile in her voice.

“Couldn’t leave ya here all by yerself fer too long now, could I?” he said and as she pulled back from the hug to look at him his heart damn near stopped. She still had her arms around his neck, like she was afraid that if she let go he might disappear again, and she was smiling at him, it was small, not quite as blinding compared to what Daryl once was accustomed to, but the light in her eyes warmed him to his core. He felt like he could barely breathe or speak so he just pulled her back close to him.

“Missed ya,” He finally said after he caught his breath.

“Missed you too.” She whispered back and there was no mistaking it this time, he could feel the gentle warmth pressed up against his neck.

“Head home?” He asked. She nodded and hesitantly pulled away from him. She took his hand in hers, pressed a kiss to the back of it, and her lip corners drew the slightest bit further upwards as her cheeks flushed ever so slightly. Daryl felt like he was going to pass out. They wandered slowly back to the house, hand in hand, Y/N filling Daryl in on everything he had missed.

People settled into life under Rick’s leadership fairly well. There were some stubborn ones, but that was to be expected. It made Daryl smile to see the tension slowly escape Y/N’s shoulders, her eyes stop darting to the gate, her hand begin to rest on her hips or at her side instead of on her blade. It seemed like everyone was really settling in. Some of their little group had even begun to split off into their own houses, it felt like this really was a place that they could settle down in, that they could defend and make their home. Daryl hadn’t left the original house yet, he left so often that he didn’t pay too much attention to where he stayed when he was back.

Y/N rinsed her hands in the infirmary sink and dried them off before saying a quick goodbye and thank you to Denise. She was having a rough day. Someone came in with a really bad injury, lost a lot of blood, dealing with a potential infection. They had spent the entire day just trying to stabilize him. Once he was sleeping, Denise insisted Y/N head home to shower and get a bit of rest. She begrudgingly obliged and walked home as the sun began to sink below the horizon. She approached the house to find Daryl, perched on the porch railing where she had spent many sleepless nights when they had first arrived, cleaning his knife, crossbow slung over his back. “Daryl!” She ran to hug him but his face dropped as he saw her. In an instant he was off of the porch and into the street, one hand on her cheek, the other gently touching her side where a particularly nasty bloodstain resided.

“Y/N! The hell happened to you? Gotta getcha to th’ infirmary, see Denise.” He began to try to hoist her over his shoulder when she put a hand on his arm and held him back.

“I’m alright Dixon, it isn’t mine, slow your roll.” Y/N had a satisfied smirk on her face as she watched him calm.

“Dammit Woman, ya can’t scare me like that.” He pulled her into a hug that she hesitantly accepted but quickly pulled away from.

“Gonna get blood all over you. Let me shower and then I’ll give you a proper hug?” He grunted affirmatively and she let out a small giggle. “See you in a minute, Dixon. Glad to have you back.” She called over her shoulder as she disappeared through the door, leaving Daryl standing alone in the street. After he shook off the shock and let out a deep breath, he headed into the house as well. He went upstairs to change out of his bloodstained shirt but on his way back he paused by the bathroom. A soft, lilting singing voice carried out from behind the door, one he hadn’t heard since the group’s first night in Alexandria. The voice was the same, but the song was different this time.

“Little darlin’, I feel that ice is slowly meltin’, little darlin’, it seems like years since it’s been clear. Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo, here comes the sun and I say it’s alright”

Warmth spread through Daryl’s body from his fingertips as he listened to her sweet, gentle voice. He stayed through the end of the song, forehead resting on the door so he could listen properly. He let her voice wash over him like warm water, his shoulders dropped as the tension drained from his body. After a minute the water shut off and he instinctively jumped back from the door, but couldn’t bring himself to move from that spot, despite his best efforts, so when the door swung open, he found himself face to face with her. She was wrapped in a towel, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the water, her hair still dripping a bit onto her bare shoulders. Daryl felt like his face was inches away from hot coals as he opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“Hi Daryl,” she said, an eyebrow raised skeptically.

“Sounded real nice.” Daryl’s eyes fell to the floor and he shifted his weight back and forth between his feet. “Ya got a real pretty voice, ‘n I like that song lot better than that other one ya sang a while back,” Before she could respond Daryl took off for the door, face turning crimson, heart doing wind sprints in his chest. Had he not been in such a panic, he might have seen the beginnings of lip corners turning upwards and eyes lighting up before he ran off. If he had even raised his eyes from the floor for a moment he might have seen the makings of something he’d been missing for what felt like a lifetime. Instead, he stepped outside and just began to walk, trying to shake the warm, jittery feeling that was pooling in his chest and stomach. He found himself at the base of the wall by the gate, and ended up relieving Abraham of his watch. On top of the wall, with the horizon ahead of him and the open air around him, his lungs finally felt functional again.

He stood up there in comfortable silence watching the sun begin to set, and as soon as normalcy felt like it was returning and his body had calmed, there she was, standing at the edge of the platform, hair still wet, and his heart crawled right back up into his throat. She took a few steps towards him, and he stayed stuck to the spot where he stood.

“You ran off on me there, Dixon.” she said. He grunted.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Didn’ mean ta make ya uncomfortable. Jus’ sounded really pretty ‘s all.” He spoke sheepishly but forced himself to look up and meet her eyes. To his surprise she had a broad grin spread across her face.

“You really liked it?” She asked and took another step closer. She was close enough that he could now see her cheeks tinting a deep rosey color. He nodded.

“Might’ve been th’ most beautiful thing I ever heard.” He admitted. She let out a quick exhale and seemed to take a moment to steady herself.

“Never got to give you that hug,” She stepped right up to him now and wrapped her arms around his middle, he pulled her in close and immediately sighed into the contact. She smelled clean and fresh and when he closed his eyes there was nothing but her. Her smell in his nose, her body pressed against his, the sound of her soft breath against his chest. “Hate it when you leave.” Her words were muffled as she spoke, still buried in his shirt.

“I know, ‘m sorry. Promise I hate leavin’ ya more,” he spoke without thinking and she pulled away slightly to look at him.

“You do?” Her eyes were wide as she looked up. He grunted affirmatively.

“Course I do. Yer the one who said ya were gonna be my best friend, don’t know why ya look so surprised I don’ like leavin’ ya behind.” Her lips parted into a gentle and full smile that sat in his stomach like a shot of whiskey and propelled him forward like true liquid courage as he pressed his lips gently to hers. It only lasted a few seconds before he pulled back and watched her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. Her eyes opened slowly and she reached a hand up and placed it gently on Daryl’s cheek and slowly broke out into a wide, full smile that Daryl hadn’t seen in years. Her eyes sparkled as they seemed to water a bit. Daryl felt like he could cry too, as he felt a warmth that he thought was lost forever. In the light of the setting sun Daryl could have sworn he had never seen anything so beautiful as Y/N beaming in his arms.

“I ever tell ya that you’ve got the most beautiful smile I ever seen?” Daryl whispered, and she just let out a teary laugh.

“Oh you hush Dixon.” She said and kissed him again. It was tender and gentle and a million words passed between them in the silence. Finally he pulled away and lifted her off of her feet and spun her around, relishing in the sounds of her delighted, uncontrolled laughter. He set her back down gently and gave her another quick kiss.

“Been wantin’ to do that fer a long time now,” he said quietly. She placed a kiss on his cheek the way she had a million times before, and his skin tingled with the electricity of her contact like it always did, but it didn’t paralyze his lungs the way it used to. It sped his pulse and warmth spread from that tiny point on his cheek throughout his whole body. When she pulled away she had that laser beam of a smile fixed on him again, but it didn’t burn anymore, and for the first time in a long time, Daryl was overjoyed to stand in the light of the sun.