daryldixon4564

[daryldixon4564]

Through the Ruins.

My Wattpad: Kaasuienbroodje.

More chapters are coming soon on Wattpad. This is my first fanfic, so any tips or corrections are appreciated.

Description:

The world ended before you could say goodbye.

Before the outbreak, you were a Sergeant in the Army-a leader among your fellow soldiers, tough, strong, and always focused on the mission. But when the turn came, you were deployed overseas, far from home, and when the world fell apart you lost everything. Friends, family… and Daryl Dixon.

The turn changed everything. But maybe… just maybe, it's not too late to find each other again.

Chapter three.

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

Lost.

(Daryl's POV.)

I walk through the woods, my crossbow heavy in my hands, a rope of squirrels hanging off my shoulder. The air is still, too quiet, just the rustling of leaves beneath my boots and the occasional bird call. I've been tracking this damn deer for miles, and I can't shake the feeling that it's mocking me. I've hit it three times now, but the bastard just won't die.I wipe my brow with the back of my hand, my frustration growing with every step. The damn thing's too fast, and it keeps slipping through my fingers. But I can't give up. I need food. We all do.

I start thinking about you, like I always do when the silence gets too thick. I know you're out there somewhere. You have to be. It's been too damn long, but I can't bring myself to believe you're gone. I don't care what the world's throwing at us. You're tough. You'll make it.But the not knowing—it eats away at me. You safe out there? Still fightin'? Still breathin'? Damn it, you better be.

A gust of wind stirs the branches, and I catch a glimpse of sunlight filtering through the trees. It hits a patch of wildflowers-- yellow and white, just like the ones we used to see that summer. It feels like a lifetime ago. I can almost hear your voice in my head, teasing me for never knowing the names of flowers. A small smile tugs at my lips, but it fades as quickly as it came.

My mind drifts a little too far into the familiar ache of missing you, and I don't realize until it's too late that I've lost the deer tracks.

"Goddamnit…" I mutter under my breath, looking around. My pulse picks up in frustration, the weight of not finding anything for the camp making my gut twist.

I crouch low, my breathing quickening, fists clenched. It's not just the deer. It's everything—the endless days of searching, the constant noise of camp, the quiet nights when I can't sleep because I'm wondering where the hell you are. I feel that same old rage bubbling up, that familiar tightness in my chest, and I have to stop myself from slamming my fist into the dirt.

I sigh and stand up, deciding to walk back to see if I can find the tracks. I have to find it, or the camp will only have a few squirrels.

I push forward, retracing my steps, trying to focus on anything—anything that could lead me back to the damn deer. The woods are dense, but I'm no stranger to this kind of hunt. The problem is, I can't seem to shake the image of you in my head, your smile, your laugh… It's like you're still here, even if it's just in my thoughts.

I force myself to focus, to push down the ache and concentrate on the task at hand. There's no room for distractions out here, thinking about you isn't going to fill our stomachs or keep us safe. But it's like the harder I try to forget, the more your memory creeps in, tugging at my thoughts like some kind of ghost that won't let go.

I don't know how long I've been walking, but my feet are starting to ache and the weight of the squirrels on my shoulder feels heavier with every step. I catch sight of a broken branch hanging low, fresh bark scraped off its side. My heart picks up a little. Maybe I haven't lost the damn thing after all.

I kneel down, running my fingers along the torn bark. There's a small splash of blood on the leaves-- a tiny, glistening drop that tells me the deer's close. I was right. It's wounded, and it's moving slower now. My grip tightens on the crossbow as I get back up, a grim smile on my face. This time, I'm not letting it slip away.

I move quickly but carefully, making my way over the uneven ground, my eyes scanning for any sign of movement. The forest is still unnaturally quiet, but I ignore the chill that runs down my spine. I've got a job to do.

Suddenly I hear screams coming from the direction of the trail. From the of camp. I freeze in my tracks, my heart racing. I stand there for a few moments, just listening before I quickly start to make my way towards the sound.

I walk through the trees and see Shane, Dale, Glenn, Morales, Jim, and some guy standing around the deer and a decapitated walker, Andrea and Amy standing a few feet away. Shane points his shotgun at me, but lowers it as soon as he realizes it's me. I look at the deer, Its neck ripped open by the walker.

"Son of a bitch. that's my deer!" I yell, pissed. I've been tracking this deer for miles, just for it to get eaten by a walker. "look at it. All gnawed on by this," I start kicking the headless body of the walker. "Filthy, disease-bearing. motherless poxy bastard!"

"Calm down, son. that's not helping."I hear Dale say behind me, and I get even more pissed. I storm over to Dale, my fist clenched as I try not to break something.

"What do you know about it, old man?" I spit out the words, but there's a hesitation, a moment where I almost don't say them. The frustration inside me twists, a mix of hunger, exhaustion, and… something else. I don't even know what to call it. But I can't stop now—the anger's too strong. "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to on golden pond?" I catch the flicker of surprise in Dale's eyes before he opens his mouth to respond, but I turn away, not wanting to hear whatever half-assed words he's got for me. It's not fair, but I'm too damn tired to care.

I sigh and walk back to the deer, "I've been tracking this deer for miles. Was gonna drag it back to camp. Cook us up some venison. what do you think? think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?"

I look around the group, hoping they know some way to save at least some meat, but I know they don't.

"I would not risk that," Shane says.

I sigh again, frustrated. I know he's right, but it don't make it any easier. Spent half the day with that damn deer in my sights, and now it's just rotting meat. Feels like everything's falling apart, like I can't catch a break. But ain't like that's anything new. "Damn shame. I got some squirrel-- 'bout a dozen or so. That'll have to do."

As I yank my arrows out of the ruined deer, my hands shake with the urge to put my fist through the carcass. All that work, all that tracking, and it's wasted-- nothing but tainted meat now, thanks to those damn walkers. It's like the world's set on taking everything away before I even get my hands on it.

Suddenly the head of the walker starts snapping, letting out a groan. I scoff quietly, can't these people do anything right?

"Oh god.." I hear Amy say behind me. She and Andrea walk off in horror and disgust.

It's like they've never seen death before. The way they flinch, the way they act like this is all just a nightmare they'll wake up from. But I know better. This is the world now. Walkers don't get back up if you hit 'em right the first time. Ain't nobody gonna protect you out here but yourself.

"Come on, people. What the hell?" I grab my crossbow and shoot the walker in the eye, killing it properly. I put my foot on the walkers head and hold it down as I pull the arrow out.

"It's gotta be the head. Don't y'all know nothin'?" I say in annoyance.

I storm back to camp, barely seein' straight, anger simmerin' just beneath the surface. But I ain't gonna quit. We need food, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let this world beat me down. Tomorrow, I'll try again—huntin', scavenging, whatever it takes. Gotta keep movin', keep pushin'. Ain't got no choice

I look around for Merle but don't see him. Probably in his tent smoking something. "Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!"

I hear Shane walking behind me."Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." He says.I stop and turn around in annoyance and slight curiosity, what the hell does he want now? "'Bout what?" I ask.

"About Merle." Shane says. "There was a uh.. there was a problem in Atlanta."

My heart sinks. No. Am I losing one of the only people I have left?

"..He dead?" I ask.

"We're not sure." Shane says.

"Either he is or he ain't!" I lash out. How the hell do they not know if he's dead or not?

The same guy who was there when I found the der speaks up. He says: "there's no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."

I look at him, "who are you?"

"Rick Grimes." He says.

"Rick Grimes. you got somethin' you wanna tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof. Hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there." Rick says.

I hear the words, but it takes a moment for them to sink in, like my brain's refusing to process. My chest tightens, and the ground feels like it's slipping out from under me. Merle might be… no, he can't be. He's my brother, the last damn family I got left. A hot, burning rage flares up, making my hands shake.

I feel tears stating to well up in my eyes. Merle's an asshole, but he's still my brother, and I can't stand the thought of him dying. I don't even realize I'm yelling until I feel the burn in my throat. "Hold on. Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you left him there?!"

"..yeah." Rick says.

Merle might be a son of a bitch, but he was my brother. Hell, he was the only one who ever looked out for me. When our father used to swing that belt, Merle took the hits for me. He taught me to fight, taught me to hunt.

I see red and throw the rope of squirrels that was still hanging off my shoulder at Rick. He dodges them. I try to charge at him, wanting nothing more than to hurt him for what he did to Merle. But before I can do anything I get tackled by Shane and fall to the ground. I immediatly get my knife out and swing at Rick.

He punches me in the gut while Shane grabs me from behind and puts me in a choke hold.

Rick takes the knife from me as Shane forces me to the ground while I struggle to get free, "you'd best let me go!" I yell.

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't." Shane says.

I continue to struggle against him, "choke hold's illegal."

"You can file a complaint." Shane says. "Come on, man. we'll keep this up all day."

I feel the heat rising in my face, my fists clenched so tight they shake. When Shane holds me down, it's like every part of me is fighting to keep from exploding. I know Merle ain't no saint, but he's blood. And if I lose him, too—hell, I don't even know if I could handle that

Rick kneels down so he can talk face to face with me, "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that? Do you think we can manage that?" He says.

Rick looks at Shane and he lets me go. I stay on the ground, panting and holding myself back from punching Shane.

"What I did was not on a whim." Rick says. "Your brother does not work and play well with others."

T-Dog speaks up. "It's not Rick's fault. I had the key. I dropped it"

"Couldn't pick it up?" I ask.

"Well, I dropped it a drain." T-Dog says.

my heart drops for the millionth time. First you and now Merle? I choke up but manage to pull myself together. I stand up, "if it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't."

"Well, maybe this will." T-Dog says. "Look, I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him-- with a padlock."

"It's gotta count for something." Rick says.

I wipe some tears out of my eyes as I look around the faces in the camp, my jaw tight with anger and pain. They don't get it. They don't know what it's like to watch everything you care about slip through your fingers. I won't let Merle go like I did with you. I can't. I won't let this world take one more damn thing from me. I have to go get him. I can't lose the only person who I know for certain is alive.

"Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is so I can go get him."

I hear Lori speak up behind me. "He'll show you. Isn't that right?" She says.

Rick looks at her for a second and sighs before looking back at me. "I'm going back." he says.

Lori walks back into the RV, looking pissed at her husband for leaving again.

My heart races as I go up the stairs onto the roof where Merle was left. T-Dog cuts the chain that kept the door locked shut and I slam the door open. I run onto the roof, my heart racing.

"Merle! Merle!" I yell. My heart sinks when there's no answer. I run over to the side where Merle was handcuffed. My heart sinks and I stop in my tracks when I see what's infront of me.

[daryldixon4564]

Through The Ruins.

My Wattpad: Kaasuienbroodje.

More chapters are coming soon on Wattpad. This is my first fanfic, so any tips or corrections are appreciated.

Description:

The world ended before you could say goodbye.

Before the outbreak, you were a Sergeant in the Army-a leader among your fellow soldiers, tough, strong, and always focused on the mission. But when the turn came, you were deployed overseas, far from home, and when the world fell apart you lost everything. Friends, family… and Daryl Dixon.

The turn changed everything. But maybe… just maybe, it's not too late to find each other again.

Chapter two.

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

A Silent Promise.

Image: Y/N's clothes and gear.

It's been thirteen months since you left for your tour.

(Daryl's POV.)

It's been thirteen months since you left. Thirteen months since I last saw you, held you, and heard your voice. It's been quiet without you. Too quiet. I miss your voice, your touch, everything. I miss you like hell. Even if I won't admit it. And I hate it.

I'm sitting on the couch, watching the news, though I just can't seem to focus. I've been distracted ever since you left, wondering-- hoping-- that you're okay. That you're alive. I don't know what I'd do if I never saw you again.

I get pulled out of my thoughts when I see a news report about groups of cannibals.

News reporter: "--Groups of people have been reported attacking and trying to bite or even eat other people. Some think it's the result of a new drug, while others believe it's the start of the zombie apocalypse. Whatever the cause, authorities are urging people to avoid these groups--"

I scoff slightly and roll my eyes, "start of the zombie apocalypse. Bullshit." I mutter, though I can't deny I'm a little worried.

I reach for the remote and turn the tv off, but the words linger in my mind. My gut tightens, and despite my disbelief, I can't shake the nagging thought that something isn't right. I decide to go for a hunt to try to get my mind off of these groups, and off of you.

I stand up and grab my crossbow before heading out the door, walking towards the woods. I can't help but think about that news report. The zombie apocalypse. That's impossible, right? but what kind of drug would cause people to go and eat other people?

I stop in my tracks, the sound of birds in the distance making me feel more isolated than ever. What if the world is really ending? What if I never see you again? What if you come back safe, but run into one of those groups? The thought makes my heart beat faster. What if I never see you again? I wish you were here.

But I know you can handle yourself. You'll be fine. Right?

The sound of a branch snapping behind me pulls me out of my thoughts.

I quickly turn around, my crossbow raised, ready to shoot whatever the hell it is that's behind me. I stand there for a few tense moments, waiting for someone-- or something-- to come out. My heart is racing, what if it's one of those cannibals? What if it's a group of them?

Eventually, I see a figure slowly walking towards me. I grip my grossbow tighter, my hands are starting to get sweaty. The figure walks into my line of sight and I manage to keep myself from pulling the trigger just in time.

"Merle?"

Merle comes out from behind a tree, grinning that cocky grin of his and his hands raised in a mocking way.

"Oh no, don't shoot me, please, have mercy." He says in a rough and mocking voice.

I scoff and lower my crossbow, my racing heart slowly calming down. "Asshole." I mutter. "The hell you doin' out here anyway? Ain't you supposed to be with your junkie friends?" I ask him in an annoyed voice.

Merle just chuckles and lowers his hands, "you seen the news?" He says, not answering my question.

I raise my eyebrow, still annoyed, "yeah. why?"

"Damn groups of cannibals." He chuckles and pulls a cigarette from his pocket, lights it, and takes a drag, looking way too damn calm."'Bout damn time something exiting finally happens."

I scoff at his chuckle, feeling the frustration bubbling up. "You think this is funny, huh? Folks goin' crazy, rippin' into each other like animals?"

He just chuckles, that infuriating grin widening. "Better believe it. Crazy's got a whole new level now. Hell, maybe it's the end of the world after all."

I grit my teeth, holding back the urge to snap at him, but the unease creeps back, stronger this time. Maybe Merle's right, maybe he ain't. But I know one thing: things are different now. And the thought of you out there, in the middle of a war, in the middle of this.. it makes me want to find you, to know you're safe.

Suddenly I hear a low growl behind us. I turn around and see a guy stumbling towards us, but something's.. off about him. He's limping, his skin is pale, paler than it should be, and his eyes are milky white, almost looking dead.

I grip my crossbow tighter, "hey man, what do ya want?" I say in a rough voice. I hear Merle shifting next to me, and I know he's getting ready for a fight.

The guy doesn't reply, instead he lets out another low growl, stumbling closer. I raise my crossbow, my heart starting to beat a little faster. Something's wrong.

"You better stay back, or I'll beat your ass!" Merle says. The guy either doesn't hear him, or he just doesn't care. He keeps stumbling forward, letting out those weird growls.

I narrow my eyes, giving him one last warning. I point my crossbow at his leg,"last chance, man. stay back."

The man doesn't reply, so I do it, heart racing as I pull the trigger. The bolt hits him square in the leg, sinking deep. But he doesn't stop. He doesn't even flinch. Just keeps dragging that injured leg behind him, coming closer.

"Aw, hell, he's really gone nuts, huh?" Merle says, though I can hear the nervous edge creeping into his voice.

The guy keeps coming, even faster now, like the damn bolt in his leg didn't even touch him. My mind races, instinctively taking a step back. This isn't like anything I've seen before.

"Daryl.." Merle's voice is barely more than a whisper now, his bravado cracking. I can feel the fear in his voice-and it only makes mine grow.

I don't know what this is, but I know one thing: if there's more of these things out there, I need to find you, and fast.

I quickly grab another bolt and put it on my crossbow, struggling for a few seconds as my shaking hands won't cooperate. I finally manage to get the bolt on my bow and raise it. While I was loading my crossbow, the guy-- or whatever he is-- got closer,

I fire, hitting it right between the eyes.

The thing drops to the ground, my bolt sticking from its skull, and for a moment everything is quiet-too quiet. I look down, its empty eyes staring up, still and lifeless. Just yesterday, that might have been a man. Now? I don't know what to call it. All I know is, if these things are out here, I've got to find you before it's too late.

I freeze in shock, did I just kill a man? No. That thing wasn't a man. Not anymore.

I don't get a chance to process it before Merle yanks the bolt out of the thing's head, and grabs my arm, pulling me along.

"C'mon," he mutters, his voice rough. "Time to get outta here, little brother."

As we take off, I hear more groaning in the distance. The forest is quiet, but those sounds creep in, low and hollow. The dread sinks in deeper. If more of these things are out here, it won't be long before they find you, too.

The next few days are a daze, filled with fear and confusion. Merle and I took my bike, some supplies and my crossbow.

We somehow ended up in a camp at some quarry with some other people. I don't ever remember how we got there, don't really care either. All I care about is you. That you're alone. Probably fighting these things. Maybe even dead.

I'm exhausted. During the day, I hunt for the camp. During the night I just lay awake. I can't sleep, can't stop thinking about you. Are you okay? Are you safe? Are you thinkig about me too right now?

If I can't find you, what's the point of doing anything I do out here? I can't keep going on like this.

I can't lose you, and I will do everything I can to find you.

"I will come for you, Y/N. I will find you. Even if I have to rip the world apart. I promise."

(YN's POV.)

The world feels like it's crumbling, piece by piece, with every step I take. The weight of the silence around me is suffocating-too quiet, too still, like everything is holding its breath. I can hear the faint sounds of distant groans, and my heart speeds up in response, every instinct telling me to keep moving, to stay hidden, to survive.

After I got back from my tour, I immediatly got send to fight the walkers, as they call them, with the other soldiers I remember my first walker, I don't think I could ever forget it.

It was a girl, she couldn't have been older than twenty. She was too young to die.

-Flashback-

She comes straight at me, her milky white eyes fixed on me. I shoot her in the leg, though it doesn't seem to hurt her. I'm shocked, confused, scared. I don't know what to do. I try to shoot her in the chest, still nothing. I can feel the panic starting to form in my chest, why isnn't she going down? How do we kill them if they can't be harmed?

I shoot again, this time hitting her right between the eyes. She finally goes down.

I sigh in relief and look around, seeing other soldiers, my colleagues-- My friends, fighting the dead.

It only takes one look to see that we're outnumbered. There's too many dead attacking the living, turning the living into one of them. I feel scared. Alone. Hopeless. How are we going to win this?

-End flashback-

Now I'm alone, every minute stretching into hours. For two days, it's just been me and these memories. Everyone else... gone. Taken by those things.

But I know Daryl's alive. He has to be. And if I have to walk through hell itself to get to him, I will.

I'm the only one who made it out alive. All of the other soldiers, my friends, they're gone, and I've never felt more alone. My only hope is Daryl, I know he's alive.

I walk into the town. The town I grew up in. The town I met Daryl in when we were teenagers.

The town is a graveyard, buildings I've known all my life twisted and empty. The smell hits me first, thick and metallic. Blood and bodies cover the street, and the dead stumble through the streets. I feel like I'm suffocating, only one thought on my mind. What if daryl's one of them?

What if he died while I was gone, unable to save him?

I start running towards his house, on the verge of a panic attack. I don't know what I would do if the most important person in my life was gone.

As I reach his house, the air feels thick, almost like it's holding its breath. I pause, looking at the porch where we used to sit, my heart pounding with each memory that flashes by: late nights, quiet talks, his rare, crooked smile. Now it feels like a ghost town, and I'm haunted by one question: What if I'm too late?

I reach out to the door, hesitating for a second before yanking it open, my trembling hand on my knife.

"Daryl?!" I yell, running into his house. I can feel the dread getting stronger the longer I go without knowing he's okay.

I run through the house, yelling his name, my heart racing in my chest as I pray he's okay.

My breathing is ragged, each gasp feeling like it could be my last. The house is too quiet, too still. What if I'm too late? What if he's gone and I couldn't save him-

"fuck!" I yell when I get to the last empty room. He's not here. Where is he? Is he okay? Is he safe?

I feel like my whole world is collapsing. The end of the world, dead people rising and eating other people I can handle. But losing Daryl? that's too much.

He can't be dead. I can't believe it. I won't. I know he's out there somewhere, and I will find him.

"I will find you, Daryl. even if it's the last thing I do. I will search every damn corner of this new world for you. I promise."

[daryldixon4564]

Through The Ruins.

My Wattpad: Kaasuienbroodje.

More chapters are coming soon on Wattpad. This is my first fanfic and first post on Tumblr, so any tips or corrections are appreciated.

Description:

The world ended before you could say goodbye.

Before the outbreak, you were a Sergeant in the Army-a leader among your fellow soldiers, tough, strong, and always focused on the mission. But when the turn came, you were deployed overseas, far from home, and when the world fell apart you lost everything. Friends, family… and Daryl Dixon.

The turn changed everything. But maybe… just maybe, it's not too late to find each other again.

Chapter one.

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

The Last Goodbye.

The sound of metal scraping against metal fills the air as you and Daryl, your best friend since high school, work on your bikes. Daryl on his Honda CB750 Nighthawk and you on your  old Triumph Bonneville your father passed onto you. 

(Daryl's POV.) 

I tighten the bolt on my bike, the wrench gripped tightly in my calloused hand. I glance over at you, silently watching you work on that same damn bike you've been working on since your father passed it onto you when he died thirteen years ago. You're being unusually quiet, the usual teasing, jokes, and talking now gone.  I don't need to ask. I can feel it-- something's off today. The way you're silently working on your bike, no teasing or sarcastic comments, something's bothering you. You're treating the Triumph like it's fragile, like it might break if you touch it the wrong way, carefully handling the scratched surface. That bike's seen it all-- hell, it's probably outlasted more than either of us. But today you're treating it like something else.. Like it's holding you together. I don't like seeing you like this-- Silent, distant. It makes me worry. I want to ask you what's wrong, what it is that's bothering you. But I know you well enough. You'll just brush it off, like you always do. I look back at my bike, silently wondering about what could be bothering you. We continue to work on our bikes for a while. It's when I catch you staring off into the distance when I can't take it anymore. I put down my wrench and finally decide to ask you.

"hey.. Ya good?" I see you glance at me for a second before quickly looking back down at your bike, like you're avoiding telling me something, and that makes my chest tighten with worry.  "..Yeah, I'm okay," you mutter, brushing it off like I knew you would do.

I sigh, nodding silently like that's supposed make everything okay. I can't shake the feeling something's wrong. Very wrong. I pick up my wrench, trying to distract myself by working on my bike again, reluctantly keeping quiet. But the quiet between us feels too heavy, and I know you're not telling me something. I don't like it. At all. I don't like it when something's bothering you and you won't let me help. That means it's something bad. Something I can't fix. The thought terrifies me.

(Y/N's POV.)

I hear Daryl sigh and feel guilty for lying to him. I know he's worried, and that he just wants everything to be okay.

I wish it was.

I don't want to tell him I'm leaving for another tour, hell, I don't want to leave him at all. I don't want to go back to the war, the violence, the chaos. 

I can still hear the gunfire in my dreams, the crackling of radios, the quiet screams of men who never got to go home. Never got to see their families again. My last tour was a nightmare. Every single second of it. 

The thought of leaving again fills me with dread, a familiar knot tightening in my stomach. I've never been good at saying goodbye, especially not to Daryl. I don't want to leave him again, not after everything we've been through.. But I have no choice. I signed up for this.

I feel my eyes starting to burn, tears threatening to spill. I grab the wrench and start working on my bike again, trying to hide my emotions from Daryl, but he notices. Of course he does.

I can feel his eyes on me as I try to keep the tears from falling, studying me, worrying.

eventually he says in a soft and hesitant voice: "..Hey, talk to me. You know you can tell me anything."

That's what breaks me. The tears I've been trying so hard to hold back finally spill. 

I whisper through the tears,  choking back a sob:  "..Daryl.. I'm leaving for another tour.."

(Daryl's POV.) 

I  hear your words and my heart sinks to my feet. Leaving. Again. my whole body tenses. No. not again.

I remember how you came back from your last tour-- broken, traumatised, waking up screaming in the middle of the night, the way you'd stare off into the distance, lost in thought.

In just a few seconds, multiple emotions rush through me-- shock, sadness, gut-twisting fear of losing the only person I give a shit about besides Merle. Then comes the anger.

After a few seconds of staring at you in silence I finally speak up.

"What?"

My voice is rough, filled with disbelief and anger, but I can't hide the faint trace of vulnerability, fear and sadness in it. 

"Why? After everything you've been through last time. Why go back?" 

Your voice is shaky and soft from crying when you say: "..Daryl, you don't understand-"

I cut you off. "Naw. I understand just fine." I drop the wrench I was still holding and stand up, my hands shaking with the urge to just grab you and hold you. To never let you go ever again. My heart is feeling like it has just been shattered. "You're goin' to get yourself killed out there, and when ya do, don't expect me to give a damn." 

The second the words leave my mouth I regret them, but I can't show that. I can see the hurt and sadness in your eyes, the shaking of your hands, and I want to punch my dumbass for not keeping my big mouth shut.

I turn and walk away before I can say anything else. My chest feels like it's being crushed under the weight of everything I just said, and all I want to do is take it all back—hold you, tell you I'm scared, that I don't want to lose you. But I can't. I don't know how.

I can hear you break down behind me, and it takes everything I have to hold myself back from running to you and holding you in my arms like I used to do when we were kids. I've never liked hearing you cry.

I walk home, trying to keep myself from breaking something. Why would you go back? After everything you've been through last time? Who knows in what state you'll be coming back this time, if you even live long enough to come back.

I almost pass my house as I walk, lost in thought. I enter, and the last person I want to see right now is standing right there.

Merle.  

He's leaning against the wall, holding an almost empty bottle of beer in his hand. He smirks when he sees me. 

"Ya look like you just stepped outta funeral, man. What happened, did someone steal yer bike?" he says in a mocking voice with a grin. 

I shoot him a glare, but he just laughs and takes a long swig of his beer. 

"shut up, Merle. ain't your business." I mutter, my fist clenched tight. I want to keep walking, pretend like he isn't here. Like everything's okay.

Merle smirks and raises his eyebrows, his smug grin widening. Must be somethin' real serious if it's got ya all twisted up like this. I ain't seen you this worked up since.. well, ever." He says before taking another lazy swig from his bottle.

I scoff, raising my voice slightly. "I said, ain't your business."

Merle's smirk widens and he pushes himself off of the wall, "it's that girl, ain't it? that pretty soldier? maybe she finally realized I'm the better Dixon-"

That's where I lose my patience. I cut him off, taking a step closer to him, my voice low and tense. "I said it before and I'm goin' to say it again,  you stay the fuck away from her."   

I can't stand Merle talking-- or even thinking about you like that. I'll always protect you, always have. No matter how much of a pain in the ass you were. 

"..She's goin' on another tour." I eventually mutter. 

Merle's face changes, but I look away before he can see what I'm feeling. Can't let him know I'm scared—he'd just see it as weakness. I know him too well for that. Instead, I grip my fists tighter and keep my eyes somewhere past his shoulder, fighting to push down the thought that if you don't come back this time, I will lose the last person that ever mattered.

Merle doesn't say anything, finally shutting up for once in his life. I grab my crossbow and walk out the backdoor. As I grab my crossbow, I feel a deep ache twisting in my chest. This isn't just anger. It's the fear of losing the one person I still have left.

 I don't know where I'm going, I just need to be away. Away from Merle, away from Y/N, away from the fear. Away from everything. 

(Y/N's POV.)

I watch Daryl walk away, tears streaming down my cheeks as his words echo in my head. 'You're goin' to get yourself killed out there, and when ya do, don't expect me to give a damn.' 

I've never been one for crying or showing emotions, but damn, that stings. But I don't blame him for saying it. I want to run after him, grab his arm, tell him I'm sorry and that I'm scared too. But I know better. 

I just sit there, silently crying and staring in the direction Daryl went in, hoping he'll come back. But he doesn't. 

After twenty minutes I finally manage to get my tears under control. I wipe them away with my sleeve and stand up. I walk to my house. I silently unlock the door and step inside.  

Back at home, I close the door behind me, leaning my head against the frame for a moment, my eyes shut as I just try to breathe. The house feels empty, like it knows I'm leaving too.

a few days later, the night before you leave. 

(Daryl's POV)

The sun has been down for hours, but I haven't been able to close my eyes for more than a minute. I'm lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about everything. Thinking about you. No matter how hard I try to shut it out, the thought of you leaving keeps pushing its way back in. I can't help it—the idea of you out there again makes my chest feel like it's wrapped in barbed wire.

Your last tour damn near broke you, and I thought I'd lost you for good back then. And now, you're heading back to that hell all over again.

 Sitting alone in that damn room, it hits me—if I don't see you before you leave, I'll hate myself for it. So I grab my jacket and head out, praying I'm not too late.

I get to your place and see the lights still on. I step towards the door, hesitating. A part of me wants to turn back, prtend that none of this matters. But it does. More than I care to admit.

After a few moments of just silently staring at your door, hesitating, I finally knock. I wait, feeling like a damn idiot. I'm about to knock again when the door finally opens, and I see you. You look like you haven't slept in days either. I know you're trying to hide it, but I can see the look of fear in your eyes.

You stare at me with a suprised look. "..What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't sleep." I clear my throat, glancing down, then back up, my voice rougher than I mean it to be. "..Ya gonna be okay over there?"

"..Yeah. I'll be okay." You reply, and I hope you're tellig the truth. The though of losing you.. It breaks me.

You see the fear in my eyes, "..Hey, I promise I'll come back to you." You say in a soft but determinated voice. You take my hand and squeeze it, as if to say: 'I promise.'

Your hand is warm, steady, grounding me even though I feel like I'm falling apart inside.

I look down at our hands, not knowing what to say or do. Finally, I pull you into a tight hug. As I pull you into a hug, it's like I'm holding onto the last good thing I have. "..You better come back to me. I'll kick your ass if you die."

I hear you chuckle slightly as you wrap your arms tightly around me, "I'll have to come back now, I wouldn't want to get my ass kicked." You tease lightly.'

I smile slightly at your light tease, but hide it by burying my face in your hair. I hold you for a few more minutes, knowing damn well this might be the last time I'll ever see you again.

 After about five minutes I pull away, though I keep my hands on your shoulders, not wanting to let go of you just yet. I stare into your eyes, holding back the urge to lock you up and keep you safe, to never let you out of my sight. Ever. But I know I can't.

"..I guess I should let you get some sleep, huh?" I eventually mutter. 

I see you nod a little, "I guess so.. goodbye, Daryl."

I reluctantly take my hands off your shoulders, but not before giving them a small squeeze, "..goodbye."

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