lenademonn - Tumblr blog

lenademonn · 3 years

Text

All This Time - 4

*Summary: Elena used to be closed off and composed, always in control of her feelings and actions. She knew how to survive long before world ended and didn’t need anyone to keep her alive. Because attachments are liability, make you weak especially in this new world where dead are walking and living are more dangerous than before.

A slow burn Daryl Dixon x OC; from season 1 forward, ongoing. Angst, Violence, strong language, sarcastic humour and more.

Warnings: Swearing, some anger managment issues; minor violence

Chapter 4

I was watching the scene in front of me with a blank expression on my face. Don't show any weakness, to anyone Elena! Merle fucking Dixon cut off his own hand because he couldn't wait few more hours for us to save him. On the other hand, I did understand why he did it. Because how could he know that anybody was coming for him? Left alone in Georgia's heat, no water or food with walkers trying to breakthrough. Yeah, I would probably panic as well, though I know that you just need to break your thumb to get out of handcuffs.

Daryl was still pacing, gripping his crossbow and tears visibly streaming down his face. His usually bright eyes were darker, and I could see just how angry he was. Angry and heartbroken. In a swift motion, he was in front of the T-Dog, who stood next to Rick with me on the other side of the cop. Daryl pointed his weapon at the dark-skinned man, making him stumble a little from fear.

Next second I know Officer Friendly is pointing his gun at Dixon's head. "I won't hesitate. I don't care if every walker in the city hears it." I quickly pulled my own gun out and pressed it to Rick's head, loading the bullet into the chamber.

"Yeah, me neither. Put your gun down now that is exactly kind of power play that caused all of this in the first place. I don't know what kind of cop you were, but I believe more in talking people out of committing the crime than using force. Unless it's necessary." My voice was cold, and I could see men's face muscles clench. He slowly rose his hands, and I took his gun and tugged it in my belt. I made my way around him and put my Glock into its holster stopping next to Daryl.

"Daryl, please put your bow down. You know that hurting T won't help, you do know that." My voice was soft and warm, my eyes searching his, while I put my right hand on his upper arm. He tensed even more if possible, but slowly moved his eyes to mine. I gave him a little smile before continuing. "There is a trail of blood, we can follow him, and we will find him Daryl, but you need to push past your anger and work with us. We will help you, that's why we're here."

He was still breathing heavily, but he put his weapon down and stormed off from T-Dog and myself, making me release his arm. My hand felt cold all of a sudden, and I didn't like that feeling.

"Ya got a do-rag or somethin' ?" He directed this question to T, and I could see that he is trying to stay calm and that this was his way of trying to make amends. Dark-skinned men just nodded and grabbed a rag from his pocket, handing it over.

Dixon moved towards the hand and wrapped it in a piece of cloth. I, on the other hand, was already ahead, looking down and analyzing the blood trail.

"He must've used a tourniquet." I heard his comment and nodded, following the trace of red liquid on the ground.

"Yeah, probably his belt. Otherwise, there would be much more blood." My comment finally made them look at what I was doing. "He also went this way, if you finished here?"

Without waiting for them, I made my way towards the other emergency exit. Blood splatters were less visible but still there. I pulled out my machete and waited for others to join me. I let Daryl go first and stopped Rick in his tracks handing him his gun back. And then whispered so only he could hear. "After all of this is done, you and I will have a nice chat about how to handle Daryl Dixon, Officer Grimes."

We followed a trace of blood all the way down to the small kitchen. We found out that Merle, son of a bitch cauterized his stump and got out through a small window. Additionally, when I touched the flat piece of metal, he used it was still warm. Which meant that we missed him by maybe an hour, if not less. Stupid, stupid Dixon. How do we suppose to find him in the city full of the dead, without knowing which way he went? The most logical solution for him would be to go back to camp, but Merle was hurt and probably dehydrated. Thinking logically was perhaps the last thing on his 'to-do list'.

I looked through the broken window to see if there are any traces left to follow him. Unfortunately, since he managed to stop the bleeding, it also meant we had nothing to track. I could hear guys going at it again, and a heavy sigh escaped my lips. All this trip so far feels like babysitting spoiled five years old kids.

"You call that surviving? Just wondered out in the streets, maybe passing out?" T-dog really didn't get it. Merle was left alone, he couldn't know that we or anyone will come to get him.

"No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot by ya, sorry pricks!" That comment made both T-Dog and Glenn look away, shame visible on both of their faces, I mentally congratulated Daryl for that. I turned around to look at them at this same as Dixon faced Rick. "Ya couldn't kill. I ain't so worried about some dumb dead bastard."

"What about a thousand dumb dead bastards? Different story?"

"You take a tally, do what ya want. I'm gonna go get 'im." Daryl started to move pass sheriff towards me and the window when Rick put his hand on Dixon's chest to stop him.

"Get your hands off me. Ya can't stop me!"

"I don't blame you, Daryl. He's family, I get that. I went through hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel. He can't get far with that injury. We could help you check a few blocks around, but only if we keep a level head." Alrighty then, it seems like Rick does know how to talk instead of using his gun first. I could see that Daryl was chewing on his bottom lip, nervous trick off his. He was considering what the cop told him.

"I could do that." Rick nodded and looked around at us to see what we think of that plan. I just smiled, knowing that I wouldn't leave Daryl alone even if they didn't agree. After all, I came here to help him find his brother.

"Only if we get those guns first. I'm not strolling the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions, OK?" T's comment made me laugh, and that were the final words, sealing our rescue plan.

We sat on the ground around Glenn, who was explaining his plan. He used a marker on a floor and some office supplies to show our positions. It was risky, but I had faith that he knew what he was doing. It was Rick who voiced everyone's concerns.

"You're not doing this alone."

"Even I think it's a bad idea and I don't like you much" Nice Daryl, way to go, a great way to make friends!

"It's a good idea, OK. Plus, I won't be alone. Just hear me out. If we go out there in a group, we're slow, drawing attention. If we do it my way, I can move fast. Look."

He moved towards the map he drew on a floor and started to move some office supplies in. "That's the tank, five blocks from where we are now. That's the bag of guns. Here's the alley I dragged you into when we first met. That's where Daryl, Elena, and I will go."

"Why us?" Daryl asked. "Your crossbow's quieter than their guns, and I saw what Elena can do with her knives. That's why she will go with me. She'll cover me." I just nodded my head, hand on my chin while analyzing his map carefully.

"While Daryl is here in the alley, we run up the street, grab the bag."

"But you got us elsewhere?" That came out of Rick, he looked unsure. I knew that he didn't want to risk Glenn's life.

"You and T-Dog, right. " Asian man moved a rubber to another place. "You'll be in this alley here."

"Two blocks away. Why?"

"We may not be able to come back the same way. Walkers might cut us off. Or in case we got separated. If that happens, we won't go back to Daryl. We'll go forward instead—all the way around to that alley where you guys are. Whichever direction we go, we got you in both places to cover us. Afterward, we'll all meet back here."

Rick nodded and looked impressed.

"Hey, kid. What'd you do before all this?"

"Delivered pizzas. Why?" After Glenn answered Daryl's question, we all just look at each other, visibly impressed. I was happy that Glenn was in our group, he is a quick thinker and finds solutions quickly. And of course, his knowledge of this city is beneficial.

We were climbing down the ladder, I was already waiting for others to join me. I scanned the area with my eyes, checked for any potential danger, and was happy to see nothing in the alley. I made my way to the dumpster, took off my flannel, and chucked it on the ground next to a bin bag. That left me only in my grey wife-beater with reins strapped over it. I made sure that all my throwing knives are there and secured my machete on my belt. I turned around to Daryl, and he was already looking at me, his eyes unreadable. I reached to my holster and passed my Glock to him.

"Just in case, I have my knives, but it takes longer to reload a crossbow. Please don't damage it or lose. I'd hate to break your pretty face." I gave him a sweet smile and waited for any response. Daryl finally took it carefully from my hand, making sure not to actually touch my skin, and tugged it at the back of his pants.

"Be careful, El." His voice was quiet, and for a second, I thought I misheard him. And he called me El! Alright, that's not a time or place to start swooning over Dixon.

"Always, Dixon. C'mon Glenn, let's go."

I followed Glenn when he started running through the gate, we turned left and jogged forward, using cars as a cover. I took out two knives, one in each hand, and grasped them tightly. That's just in case. I was used to tough situations and dangerous missions, but it was different. The thought of being bitten scared the hell out of me. I didn't have my bulletproof vest or any other armor, and I just felt valuable in Atlanta's open streets.

We quickly ran towards the tank and jumped over the pile of sandbags, hiding behind it for a second. There were two geeks in the path like they would be guarding the bag.

I glanced at Glenn before speaking up. "Alright, I throw, you run straight away, I'll be right behind you." When I finished speaking, I put my right arm up, getting ready for a throw, steady, breath in and out, release. After the first knife, I quickly send the other one in the direction of the second walker.

Both geeks hit the ground when Glenn was halfway between them and me. I jogged after him and took my weapons out of the walkers' heads, wiping the blood and brain matter on their clothes. The stench of decomposing bodies was overwhelming. I've seen and smelled my fair share of dead bodies, but none of them stank as badly as walkers. I checked if there weren't any on Glenn's other side and spun around to watch our backs. A few seconds later, I heard Glenn's heavy breathing, and I glanced to check if he was alright. He had a bag of guns in one hand and a sheriff's hat in the other. There were few geeks behind him, but still far enough for us to make our escape.

"Great, this time, I'm going first, so nothing jumps you." I led the way and helped Glenn climb over sandbags. We ran towards the alleyway when I heard yells from that direction. I run a bit faster, stoping in the gate, and trying to understand the scene in front of me. Daryl was lying on the ground, his crossbow next to him. Two Latino guys were kicking the shit out of him, while the scrawny third one, was next to Daryl. They looked in our direction.

"That's it! That's the bag, vato, take it!" They started running at us, and I sprang to action. My fist was launching at the first guy with a bald head and heavy built, so I put all my momentum into a punch and hit him in the nose with my knife's hilt.

That sent him to the ground but also made me drop my blade. I looked at the other guy. He wasn't that well-build, but he had a baseball bat, which gave him an advantage. I put my other knife back in the holster; if I wanted to win this, I needed both of my hands. He launched himself at me, and I quickly dodged, grabbing the bat in my hands. Holding onto the weapon, I used his speed and force to spin him towards the wall. His back hit the side of the building, and I punched him in the face, sending my knee straight to his groin at this same time. I didn't have time to react because I was pulled away from him by vato Number One, and he shoved me into a dumpster. My back and head smashed into it, making me see the spots for a second, and I felt myself slide down to the ground.

Before I could regain my strength, they grabbed Glenn and dragged him towards the car, which appeared out of nowhere. "Daryl! Elena!" I saw Daryl sending one of his bolts at them, and it hit the bald guy in the ass. That wasn't enough, though. They still managed to shove Glenn into the car, and seconds after that, the car took off.

I managed to get up and saw Daryl, who was shouting after them. I made my way towards the scrawny guy, who got left behind, my face cold, and eyes shooting daggers, a small smile on my face. The smile I always allowed myself when I was interrogating some horrible people, off the books. Yes, it did happen, sometimes in the spur of the moment when someone's life was at stake. Not best of my moments in life, but now I was using it as a weapon. Because this little Latino dick and his friends attacked Daryl and took Glenn. And he was going to tell me exactly where they went.

I pushed him to the wall, my forearm under his chin, one of my knives on his cheek. "Well, hello, puto! Now you and I will have a friendly conversation, and you'll answer my questions - " Before I could finish Rick and T-Dog run into the alley, while Daryl tried to get his own answers out of the little guy. Rick stopped him and turned into my direction.

"Elena, let him go, we need to go, this place is full of walkers."

"They took Glenn. Little bastard and his little bastard homie friends! I'm gonna stomp your ass!" Daryl was shouting and trying to get past sheriff.

"Guys! Guys! We're cut off!" T-Dog said, and that made us look around.

"Get to the ladder, go!" After that, I shoved the little guy and grabbed his top, pushing him towards the ladder. I let T go first, then the vato and then me, the other two close behind.

It took us about five minutes to get back to the office, where we planned all of this, and I pushed the scrawny guy towards the chair. Smile again at my lips, raising my eyebrow, I cracked my knuckles.

"So, let's talk now, puto."

"OK, Elena, could I speak to him first?" Rick stood next to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. I lifted my head to look at him, his face gentle but hand squeezed harder than necessary. I nodded and sat upon the desk in front of the guy.

"What's your name?"

"Miguel"

"Good, those men you were with, we need to know where they went."

"I ain't telling you nothing" Kid was trying to play a macho, but he couldn't be older than seventeen, and his attitude just seemed funny.

"Jesus, man, what the hell happened back there?" T-Dog was sitting on a chair on my left; he looked tired and upset.

"Told you! This little turd and his douchebag friends came out of nowhere and jumped me." Daryl's vocabulary will never stop to amuse me.

"You are the one who jumped me, puto. Screaming about trying to find his brother like it's my damn fault."

"They took Glenn. Could've taken Merle too."

"Merle? What kind of hick name is that?" Oh, Miguel, you do have a death wish. I stood up and went to Glenn's backpack, lying on the chair in the corner of the room. Behind me, I could hear Daryl's angry yells and a commotion. I unzipped the bag and took a rag out, turning back to Latino kid.

"Kid, let me show you what happened to the last guy who spoke like that about Merle." I dropped the hand on his lap and sat back on the desk. Daryl, obviously following my train of thought, added.

"I'm gonna start with the feet this time." The kid was standing by the wall now after he jumped out of his seat, seeing bloody body parts obviously startled him. A brown-hair man was holding him by the front of his top. Before he could do any more damage, Rick shoved Daryl back, away from Miguel, and kneeled down to speak to him again.

"The men you were with took our friend. All we wanna do is talk to them, see if we can work something out." The kid looked at us and slowly nodded his head.

"Great, you get the info I'll be back in a second." I stood up and went out of the room to find a nice corner to relive myself.

"Elena, wait." Daryl was following me, his crossbow on his back.

"What's up, Dixon? I really will be back in a minute."

"Ya alright? Ya hit ya head quite hard." I smiled softly at that and saw how uncomfortable this made him. He wasn't really looking at me and was chewing on his bottom lip, something I found extremely sweet and sexy at this same time.

"Daryl, I'm fine, don't worry about it. I'll probably have a headache tomorrow, but I don't have any signs of concussion." I took one step towards him "How about you? They got quite a few kicks at you, your ribs, OK?" I knew better than to touch him even if just to check for any damage.

"I'm fine. It's nothin'."

"Alrighty. I was furious when I saw them all over you. But now I really need a second to myself, Daryl, or I'm gonna pee in front of you." That made him blush like crazy, and he spun around and nearly run back into the room we came from. I laughed after him and made my way to some hidden corner.

I was talking to T about how to properly use a sniper rifle he was given. Yeah, I was annoyed that Rick appointed T-Dog to stand up as our sniper, even if it was 'just in case'. And when I told him that I'm a trained marksman, he just replied, 'Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of'. What the fuck? I mean, yes, of course, I lost my cool with the kid, but I wasn't going to kill him.

See, this is what I was afraid of, at the very beginning when I met Dale. Attachments, and what comes with showing who you are to other people. T took off to go take his point, and I turned to the others, to see that they are already waiting for me. I took one deep breath, and smoothen my face, making sure that it was expressionless.

"OK then, let's go see Guillermo." Oh, I definitely missed something. Rick cocked his shotgun, and I did this same to mine, Daryl already had bolt secured in, ready to release it when needed. We went down through the broken window in the wall, Miguel first. Me, Rick, and Daryl behind him with our weapons ready to aim.

We moved slowly through the courtyard, wild plants, and leaves surrounding the big building. Obviously, no one got time to play a gardener in a zombie apocalypse. We waited by the main door less than a minute before we could hear the lock's sound, and the gate opened. Alright, so it means that they have lookouts in those big windows. Just one man stepped forward, another Latino, only a few inches taller than me, his black hair cut short and beard well-taken care off, clothes looking clean and fresh. So they had at least necessary supplies and access to water.

"You OK, little man?" His accent was stronger than Miguel's, probably grew up speaking Spanish around the house.

"They were gonna cut off my feet, carna."

Boss man, which I guessed was Guillermo, cocked his head to the side and looked at Rick. "Cops do that?"

"Not him. This redneck puto here and his crazy chica. They cut off some dude's hand, man. She showed it to me."

"Shut up." Of course, Daryl started to get impatient with the small talk. Next time we need to negotiate with anyone I vote to leave him behind.

I could see two familiar shapes walking through the doors, to stand behind the boss man. "Hey, that's that vato right there, homie. He shot me in the ass with an arrow, man" Ah, Vato Number One, he pointed his gun at Daryl as he made his way towards us. "What's up, homes, huh?!"

"How's your ass, man? Oh, and here is my other friend, " While I spoke vato Number Two made his way to stand on the other side of Guillermo, rifle pointed right at my head.

"Hola chica, how's your head?"

"Great, thanks. Certainly better than your nuts. I really hope I didn't do any permanent damage." My voice was full of sarcasm, and I could hear Rick sigh loudly.

"Chill, chill." Guillermo made his guys lower the guns a little, and they stopped shouting in our faces. He was looking at Rick only, though I could see him glance at me just before. "It's true? They want Miguelito's feet? That's pretty sick, man."

"We were hoping more for a calm discussion."

"That hillbilly jumps Felipe's little cousin, beats on him, threatens to cut off his feet, Felipe gets an arrow in the ass, Jorge might never have children thanks to that crazy chica over there, and you want a calm discussion. You fascinate me." OK, what's with everybody calling me crazy today?

"Heat of the moment." See, that's what I don't understand. Rick is perfectly capable of reasonable conversation under pressure, and yet he chose to handcuff Merle to the pipe on that damn roof. Alright, thinking about that, Merle isn't precisely the type of person to be talked down. Especially if he was on drugs, which apparently he was if Glenn wasn't lying about it. But still, I can help to be angry at Rick for not finding a different solution.

"Mistakes were made. On both sides."

"Who's that dude to you anyway? You don't look related."

"He's one of our group, more or less. I'm sure you have a few like him."

"Ya got my brother in there?" I could tell that Daryl was losing hope of finding Merle.

"Sorry. Fresh out of white boys. But I got an Asian. Interested?"

"I have one of yours, you have one of mine. Sounds like even trade." I knew it won't be that easy; back in that alley, they came for the guns, that was their goal. And I doubt that Guillermo will just give it up. He was behaving way too calm and too confident like he'd have the upper hand.

"Don't sound even to me. My people got attacked. Where's the compensation for their pain and suffering? More to the point, where's my bag of guns?" Yeah, that's what I thought, I looked at Rick, checking if he needs a hand, but he was dealing with it very well. I could tell that he was definitely a leader and had an alpha personality.

"Guns?"

"The bag Miguel saw in the street. The bag Felipe and Jorge were going back to get. That bag of guns."

"You're mistaken"

"I don't think so."

"About it being yours. "

"Bag was in the streets. Anybody could come around and say it was theirs." I finally felt the need to bump into the conversation.

"And that's exactly why it's not yours. But coming back to the previous subject, where is my compensation for how your men treated me? Or where is Daryl's? After all, they nearly have broken his ribs with all that kicking and that stupid bat of yours." Guillermo looked at me now, and I continued talking. "And as you mentioned, the bag was in the streets we got to it first, your loss. It didn't have your name on it. But it has his name." I pointed at Rick and then moved to show the patch stitched to the side of the bag. "King's County Sheriff's Department. If you look at my friend's lovely badge, it'll say just this same. Oh, and just so you do anything stupid, I'd like to point out my other friend, down there." I pointed towards T-Dog, who was aiming his rifle at him. The Latino man just smiled at me before shouting at someone in Spanish.

"Oi chica, did you think I'm not gonna be ready for that kind of play?" He looked up to the roof of a building in front of us, and as my eyes followed, I could see a person being dragged to the edge bag over their head. When he stopped, vato boys next to him took off the bag, and we could see scared Glenn, tape over his mouth, hands tied behind his back.

Guillermo looked back at Rick, his face all business-like. "I see two options. You come back with Miguel and my bag of guns, everybody walks. Or you come back locked and loaded. We'll see which side spills more blood." with that, he sent smug smirk in my direction and went back inside, vato boys following close behind him, guns still pointed in our faces, until the gate was shut.

Well, fuck.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x oc #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead fandom #the walking dead daryl #daryl #slow burn #excessive swearing

2 notes · View notes

lenademonn · 3 years

Text

All This Time - 3

A slow burn Daryl Dixon x OC; from season 1 forward, ongoing. Angst, Violence, strong language, sarcastic humour and more.

Warnings: Swearing, some anger managment issues.

Chapter 3

Day 45 The next day was quiet; the silence between Daryl and me uncomfortable. He woke me up a few hours before dusk, which meant that he took the long shift, nothing new in this aspect. He laid down without saying anything after waking me up, and I spend the next few hours watching the area and thinking about our conversation from before. Daryl woke up before I even had a chance to shake him awake. So lack of sleep, that's another thing I can add to my list of what I know about Daryl Dixon. We quickly packed what little we had and started trekking through woods, following the tracks we noticed yesterday. Finding them wasn't that hard, especially not for a brown-haired man. What turned out to be a challenge was picking up a fresh trail. We walked around for good three hours before Daryl crouched down to touch a set of hoof prints when I followed his action I could tell that those tracks were fresher than the one we found previously. Next to me, the man looked around the forest ground and pointed the way he thought we had to go. It took us another hour to finally find the animal, we spotted it standing in the middle of a small clearing, nibbling on grass. Daryl stopped and rose his clenched fist, signaling for me to stay still. I stopped dead in my tracks and slowly took an arrow out of my quiver, and lined it up on my bow and stretched the string. Steading my breathing and not taking my eyes out of our game, I was waiting for Dixon's directions. He also prepped his weapon and was watching the animal intensely. "Three, two, one," His whisper was barely hearable, and once he said 'one', we both released our arrows. His bolt hit the deer in its side while mine pierced its belly. Animal yelped in pain and took off instantly, its steps uneasy. "C'mon!" After hearing Daryl's voice, I moved quickly jogging after the animal, to not lose it in the woods again. I was pretty sure that I nicked some significant organs, and even though it didn't go down, it should bleed out soon enough; in that case, we didn't want to lose sight of it and allow geeks a free lunch. We followed the trace of blood left on the ground and leaves for some time when we heard a piercing scream, and I realized how close to the quarry we actually were. It sounded like one of the women or even one of the kids. Oh God, I hope it's not Carl or Sophia and that it's nothing. I quickly looked at Daryl. "That's coming from the camp, hurry up Dixon," Before he could react, I jogged in the direction we heard screaming. It didn't take us long to approach the edge of the camp. Daryl moved in front of me at some point, shoving me behind him when we heard concoction just in front of us. Advancing slowly, we finally emerged into a clearing, and I could see familiar faces of Shane, T-dog, Dale, and others. They all were pointing some sort of weapon in our direction.

"We surrender?" I joked while Shane put his gun down, mumbling under his nose. Dixon, on the other hand... well, he was pissed. And I wasn't surprised when I realized that on the ground just in front of us was a headless geek and half-eaten deer. Our fucking deer, the same we were tracking since yesterday. "Son of a bitch" Brown-haired man moved from in front me, around the bushes towards the deer. "That's mah deer!" His accent deepening signaling how angry he actually was. "Look at it, all gnawed on by this filthy, disease-bearing, motherless, poxy bastard." With each word, he gave a sharp kick to the geeks' side, letting his aggression go somewhere else than people in front of us. "Calm down, son. That's not helping," Oh Dale. Why would you say it to Dixon? Do you have a death wish? "What do you know, old man. Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to 'On Golden Pond'. I've been trackin' this deer for miles." He pointed a finger in Dale's general direction and moved on to retrieve his bolt. I coughed as a reminder that I'm still here. "We. We tracked that deer for miles, Dixon!" Saying that I finally made my way to the dead animal and crouched down to get my arrow. "And by the looks of it out of our shots, mine was more deadly, so technically this deer is mine, you asshole!" I quickly stood up and wiped the blood off my arrow with my rug, then I put it back into the quiver and made my way back to the camp. On my way out, I made sure to push Daryl out of my way with my shoulder. Who the hell does he think he is? We've been hunting together for months now, and yes, of course, I may not be as skilled as he is, but for fuck sake, I am not terrible. Ignoring the men, I patted Amy and Andrea on the shoulder while walking past them. "Good that you back safe" I gave them a small smile and made my way towards the camp to find Lori. She stood next to the RV with Carol and a few other women. When she saw me she smiled, but I could tell it was strained, and I started to have a bad feeling. I approached them and took the zip bags with meat out of my backpack, watching people in front of me carefully. "That's all the meat we got, it should be enough for a few days. We got a deer as well, but fucking geek gnawed on it before we could get to it." I passed the bags to Lori and Carol, as they were the best cooks out of us, trust me you don't want me to cook you dinner unless you're willing to be ill after eating it. "Thanks, Elena, it means a lot. Listen--" Lori started playing with her fingers, after putting the meat bags on a small foldable table next to the RV's door. So there was something wrong. "There isn't a good way of saying it. Merle was left behind on that run, and we know that Daryl will be so angry, and he is really unpredictable in that state. Can you try to calm him down when the guys gonna tell him?" She sputtered, and for a second there a thought I misunderstood what she said. Merle left behind. What does it even mean? Before I could ask any more questions, I could hear Daryl shouting for his brother, and I felt so bad for him. And angry with everyone who went for that run, how could you leave someone behind?! I mean yeah, sure Merle Dixon is a colossal dick and dumbass, but that's not the reason to just-- "Merle, get yur ass out here. We got us some squirrel." He smirked in my direction when he noticed me looking at him "Yes, I said 'we', women. Merle!" I really hoped that my face didn't show any emotions because that was just heartbreaking. And I was also slightly concerned for whoever will deliver the news to him. "Daryl, slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane was the one to speak, and behind him, I could see the rest of men with a new face in between them.

"Hey, Amy, who's that guy behind Shane?" I asked the blonde woman who was now standing next to me on my right.

"You won't believe it. That's Lori's husband." The fuck? I looked at browned haired women and then at the new guy and tried to hide my surprised face. This is going to be interesting. Making a mental note to ask Lori all about that, I focused on the conversation in front of me.

"There was a problem in Atlanta" Shane touched his face for a second, showing how uncomfortable he was saying it and then moved his hands to rest on his hips. Daryl looked around and hold my gaze for a second before he took a few steps.

"He dead?"

"We're not sure." After that, Daryl moved towards Shane, his voice getting louder.

"He either is or he ain't."

"No easy way to say this so I'll just say it." I could see this new guy move forward, and towards Daryl, he wasn't looking directly at him at all.

"Who are you?"

"Rick Grimes"

"Rick Grimes, ya got something ya want to tell me?" Oh, I could tell that Daryl is starting to lose his patience. Yeah, I know, he doesn't have a lot of it in the first place.

"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" When this Rick guy answered, I found myself moving forward too, annoyed at what he was saying. What stopped me was Daryl and his face full of tears when he turned around away from the new guy. He glanced at me for a second before wiping his eyes and then clenched his jaw, turning back to Rick.

"Let me process this. So, ya handcuffed mah brother to a roof, and ya left 'im there?"

"Yeah," Answer was short, and I could hear the shame in the new guy's voice, then with anger on his face, Daryl threw a string of squirrels we caught this morning at Rick Grimes and was ready to beat the shit out of the guy. That was until Shane literally tackled younger Dixon to the ground. Shane quickly stood up while brown-haired men was still lying on the ground, but I could see him reaching for his hunting knife, which was secured on his belt.

"Daryl -" I was cut off by T-Dog, who dropped the logs he was collecting.

"Hey, watch out for the knife!" At this same moment, Daryl got up and swang his arm at Rick, who dodged it. That didn't stop younger Dixon, he moved again, aiming at the men in front of him, but Rick managed to avoid it again and get a hold of Daryl's wrist pushing it away from both of them. Shane sneaked behind Daryl and put him in a headlock. With that, Dixon was shoved to the ground, with Shane's arm still around his neck. In the meantime, Rick pried the knife and dropped on the ground away from the fight.

"You'd best let me go!" Daryl was still struggling and trying to get away.

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't" I rolled my eyes and finally made my way towards the three of them.

"Shane, let him go!" Using my stern 'work' voice, it usually worked well with criminals and kids, mainly with kids.

"Daryl stop struggling, please. Just calm down for a second so we can get a full story out of them." I crouched in front of him and looked into his blue eyes, now full of tears and rage, his chest rising quickly and his fists clenched, one by his side and the other around Shane's arm, trying to ease the hold. He looked at me for a while and nodded, making me smile just a little.

"Shane, let him go! You know I can handle him if necessary." Both of them looked at me now, one unsure of what to do and the other with a look of pain in his eyes, even though it disappeared very quickly. Shane finally let him go, so I took the opportunity to turn toward this Rick guy and T-Dog.

"Great, now can someone tell us what the fuck happened in Atlanta, and how could you leave a man behind?" I put my hands on my hips, face blank, but my eyebrows rose slightly.

"What I did was not on a whim, Ma'am. His brother does not work and play well with others. He beat T-Dog and was shooting from the rooftop, attracting more and more walkers to our location." Daryl and I exchanged a look, he was biting his lower lip, a clear sign of anxiety. Yeah, unfortunately, what this man was saying was sounding precisely like Merle Dixon.

"It's not Rick's fault." That came from T-dog, "I had a key. I dropped it." Now my face was for sure, showing surprise and confusion, but it was Daryl who voiced what I was thinking.

"You couldn't pick it up?"

"I dropped it down the drain" I run my hand over my face trying to compose myself, while Daryl just scoffed in disbelief.

"If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't." He finally stood up and tried to walk away from the group—T-Dog's voice stopping him in his tracks.

"Maybe this will. I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him with a padlock." I looked up at them, confused.

"Are you saying that Merle is alive?" I asked in a low voice.

"Yeah"

"You fucking idiots. Don't you think that's the kind of information you should start with?!" I nearly shouted in Shane's face, seeing as he was the one to start all this show.

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

"He'll show you." Lori's voice was calm, but when I turned around to face her, she was anything but. Oh, I see how it is. The first day back and the Grimes family already got problems.

"Yeah, I'm going back."

As I was getting ready in my tent, I tried to not listen to what else people got to say about all that. I re-checked if my knives were secure and put my short sleeve blue flannel shirt over the reins. I checked if my Glock is fully loaded and put it in the holster on my right side. I put some water and granola bars in small backpack Glenn found in Atlanta some time ago.

I took my machete and made my way to the track I knew we gonna be taking. I could see Glenn already sitting in the driver's seat while Daryl was pacing the truck's back. I walked past Rick and T-Dog and put my machete down on the floor of the vehicle. I pushed myself up on my arms and got into the back of the truck, making Daryl stop his pacing.

He looked at me, his blue eyes narrowing "What the hell ya doing here, women?"

I just looked at him calmly and picked up my weapon "What does it look like I'm doing, Dixon? Did you really think that I would let you go without me?" He just scoffed and mumbled under his nose, something about a stupid woman.

"Hey! Don't go breaking my records now! We went all 15 days without you calling me stupid." At that comment, I could see his lips twitch just a little, and then he made his way to the seats at the front of the car and used his foot to pressed a horn.

"Hurry up, y'all!" Rick and T-Dog made their way towards us, the new guy was wearing a sheriffs uniform, I guess he was a cop just like Shane, before all this.

"Ma'am, I don't think it's safe for you to go with us. The city is completely overrun, and it might be dangerous." I let a small laugh escape my lips, the others following my steps, except Daryl, of course. That guy doesn't laugh.

"Rick, this is Elena, we were telling you about her last night." Glenn introduced me, and it got me really interested in what they were telling him about me.

"SSA Elena James, not that it matters anymore. Trust me, I had my experience with the dead already, and yet I'm still here alive." I spun my machete in a circle, careful to not nick Daryl with a blade. After that, we finally were ready to go, Rick taking the passenger side at the front, T-Dog climbing up to sit with younger Dixon and me.

The journey to Atlanta was uneventful, except few snarky comments from Daryl. Glenn finally parked the car, and we all jumped out, making our way to a chained fence, to go through it. The first time I saw the city after that day on a highway and boy let me tell you it was horrible.

The streets were abandoned except for a few geeks - or walkers, as Rick calls them. I could see abandoned cars and here and there we passed burned down buildings, seeing what napalm actually did to Atlanta and how deserted it looked.

It's kind of image you'd only see in a movie, laughing and asking your friends what would you do if apocalypse, of any kind, would hit. And now we fucking living it and it's scary to think about because it seems like humanity lost and what was left of us was in the minority.

"Merle! We ain't even having this conversation." Daryl's gravelly voice pulled me out of my thoughts. It seems as he and Officer Friendly were having a go at each other. Again.

"We are. You know the geography, it's your call" That last part was intended for Glenn, who, in fact, like I mentioned before, is a walking map of Atlanta.

"Merle's closest. The guns would mean doubling back. Merle first." I was so happy when Glenn said it. I didn't know if I could stop Daryl if he'd decide to punch Rick, or I should say I wasn't sure if I was willing to do so. I was pissed too, you don't leave people behind like that, it doesn't matter how fucking annoying they are.

We jogged through the streets for about five minutes before making it to the convenience store they left Merle in. I heard a low growl behind me and T, so I quickly spun on my heel and rose my blade into dead men's eye. He was wearing a suit, now shredded in many places, his stomach ripped open and once-white shirt now deep red and brown from all the blood.

As quickly as I sunk my machete in, I pulled it out, pushing caracas to the ground, making the rest of my group look at me. I gave a quick smile in their direction before advancing to the front, following Daryl through a ransacked shop. He gestured for me to take a right, while he went to the left and we both slowly and quietly moved forward, I heard the swish of Daryl's crossbow and then sound of a body going down. When I rounded the corner, I was met with an arrow pointed straight between my eyes. I used my left hand to gently push it down cocking my eyebrow a little.

"Come on, Dixon, you would be super sad if you'd kill me. Who would make you laugh and complement that sexy body of yours if I'd be gone?" He just rolled his eyes and scowled at me before going in the direction we should be going. I looked at Rick, and he had a weird expression on his face. Like a combination of disbelieve, amusement, and resentment all at this same time.

"Don't worry, Rick," T-Dog said, chuckling. "That's just the relationship they have, she pushes his buttons, and he tries not to kill her."

I sent a sweet smile in their direction and moved after Daryl. We finally made our way up the stairs to where the roof door was. When on the top, Daryl made space for T-Dog to use bolt cutters on a padlock and then kicked the door rushing first to get his brother. We all followed him through a platform to a pipe where Merle supposed to be. Yeah, supposed to be...

"No! No!" Daryl's cries broke me a little, he was pacing, and tears rolled down his face. The handcuffs were still attached to the pipe blood all over them, on the floor bloodied handsaw and... a hand.

Impatient prick cut off his own hand. Fuck.

Next Chapter

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fandom #walkers #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #slow burn #excessive swearing

1 note · View note

lenademonn · 3 years

Text

Reblog if you know who Sigyn is

I’m curious to know how many people on here know who she is.

2K notes · View notes

lenademonn · 4 years

Text

All This Time - 2

A slow burn Daryl Dixon x OC; from season 1 forward, ongoing. Angst, Violence, strong language, sarcastic humour and more.

Chapter 2

Day 44

I was having a dream. I knew that part of my psychological training was to recognize reality from the fantasy. And that was definitely the latter, because there was no way in hell that his strong hands were tracing my calves, his calloused fingers making me shiver, and that his mouth was pressed to my core, licking and sucking giving me the endless pleasure spreading from toes to the top of her head. I moved my hips up, bringing myself closer to his face, which earned me a low growl from his throat's depths.

"Elena," his voice did wonder to me, but I also realized that it came out near my ear, so way closer then it should be. "C'mon women, wake up!"

I opened my eyes and sat up straight, knife in hand, quickly pressed against someone's throat. "Whoa, easy, it's just me!" I blinked rapidly and saw familiar blue eyes in front of me, hand grasping my wrist, trying to ease the knife's pressure off himself. He was crouched next to my sleeping bag, ready for the day, tents fold open, allowing the flow of the fresh air. I pulled away and put my hand over my heart.

"Shit Daryl, this isn't how you wake up people, at least not me! I could fucking kill you!" My voice was still groggy from the sleep, and my mind was spinning from remnants of the dream he interrupted. Seeing him here in my tent just seconds after his image - 'Stop it silly!'

"Ya said to wake ya up when I'm goin' for a hunt. " I closed my eyes, trying to even out my breathing.

"Yeah, give me a ten, and I'll be there." He grunted and gave me one last glance before crouching out of the tent.

It was more than a month since we set up our camp at the quarry and my revelations. We were hunting and sending Glenn to gather necessary supplies, we had laundry and cooking duties and perimeter checks. It was usually myself and Dixon brothers in the woods looking for a game for the whole group. Surprisingly, the older brother wasn't that horrible after closer interactions. Of course, he still called me 'Blondie' and 'Sweetcheeks' or 'Dollface' and looked at my chest every opportunity he could get, but after what I told them about myself, he seemed to respect me a little bit more. Maybe because he was in the military once or perhaps because he has morals even if they are a bit twisted sometimes.

Today Merle was going on a run with Glenn, though, so it was just younger Dixon and me. We planned to make it an overnight trip and hunt for something more than only squirrels or birds. Andrea and Amy offered to take a boat they found by the lake and try to catch some fish, so hopefully, we will have enough food to last us for a few days by tomorrow afternoon. If Glenn will grab all the items from the list I gave him, I would smoke some of the meat and make a nice jerky. About the only thing, I didn't fuck up in the kitchen department.

I quickly changed my clothes, including wet panties, and I smiled, remembering a vivid dream from just a few moments ago. It's only because I spend so much time with him recently and because I didn't have sex for months. No need to read into it. Right?

Once dressed, I put on my reigns and stashed throwing knives inside holders, the gun secured on my waist belt. I checked my quiver and counted the arrows, in the backpack I put all the necessary items for an overnight hunting trip and rolled an extra sleeping bag to attach it to the top of the pack.

"How much longer woman?" Daryl's voice startled me, so I quickly left the tent, spotting him next to the entrance.

"Jeez I'm coming, let me just fix my hair" He gave me a funny look "You don't want me to get grabbed, do you?" It came out harsher then I intended, but I just ignored it and pulled my hair down and run my fingers through it. Blonde curls spread all the way to the small of my back, I could fix it before I came out of the tent, but after my dream, I felt the need to show them to Daryl.

Since that day in the woods, when I was gathering things to make my bow, I wanted to make an impression on him and see how much I can push him, and my hair was the thing I liked about myself the most, well just after boobs. I quickly pulled it into a simple plaid and then twisted it, on the top of my head, securing everything with a hair tie. I could feel man's eyes on me through all that process, but when I finally looked at Daryl, he turned around and started walking towards the woods.

We were walking for most of the day, caught a few squirrels and three perky rabbits when we finally decided to set a camp next to a stream we found. Now when I say we caught that game, I mean mainly Daryl. I am good with my homemade bow, but shooting unmoving targets during training isn't exactly this same as using it on animals. One of the rabbits was mine, but that was an accident, but Daryl doesn't need to know that.

We were tracking a deer for the past two hours, but it turned unsuccessful, and we could always pick up its trail tomorrow. Daryl was setting the perimeter with a string and some old cans so we would be notified of any movements during the night. I started skinning the animals putting the guts and useless parts into the plastic bin bag we brought with us.

"I'll run the bag out, circle around, and take the meat to the creek," I told Daryl, and after receiving a nod, I took off quickly and run for about fifteen minutes in the opposite direction of the tracks we saw today. If there is any deer here, the last thing we want is for the dead to eat it. I dropped the bag, dug a shallow hole in the ground, and ditched inside, covering it back up with dirt and leaves, then I circled back towards our night camp, whistled softly while passing why so Daryl would know it's just me and jogged to the water.

I started washing the meat and cut it into the strips, made sure that I cleaned it properly of any spare blood, and put it down on a clean rug on a boulder next to me to cool down. That's the problem with overnight trips, we had to make sure that whatever we caught won't go bad.

We actually worked well together, Daryl was quiet, but it wasn't uncomfortable unless I said something stupid, usually with a sexual context, which made him blush and tell me to shut up. Now that I was thinking about it, I wasn't that different from Merle, when it came to his younger brother, and that thought gave me goosebumps. I scooped the meat and went back towards the camp, bent over the lines to not make any unnecessary noise, and sat down next to a small fire Daryl started when I was gone.

"Pass me my bag, please," I asked him, and he reached towards it and took few steps, so he was next to me, sitting down next to me on the ground to share the work. I took my clean rug from the backpack and set it down on the rock in front of us, and then I passed Daryl a tub of salt. We worked quickly and quietly till everything was done, took a few pieces, and started cooking them while the rest was put into the zip bags and then to into my pack.

"So, how did you learn to hunt like that and using this crossbow?" I asked him and looked in his direction. He was sitting next to me, but with enough space between, and he was turning the meat around. His blue eyes met my grey ones, and his face had a blank expression. I knew that he didn't let people in, but I hoped that the question was innocent enough for him to answer.

"My old man and uncle." He started slowly turning his gaze toward the fire. "Money was tight, and my da usually drank it away, so Merle and I had to learn how to get our own food." Ok, so maybe that question wasn't as safe as I thought. I knew that the last thing he was looking for was pitty over a little boy who grew up in a though home. So I settled for an answer, which hopefully would release the tension.

"Well, sure as hell, it's handy right now. No matter the reasons, I'm glad you learned. I couldn't ask for a better hunting partner" He looked at me again with a slight frown. "'Cause, you know, Merle talks way too much." That finally made him smile. Alright, that wasn't a smile, small side smirk, but I knew I couldn't ask for more, not from him, not yet. That didn't mean I will stop trying.

"What about ya? Were ya really a fed?"

"Really?" I looked at him and slapped his arm. "We don't like that term, just for the future. Yeah, I was. Behavioral Analysis Unit to be precise."

"And what's that?" He side glanced at me, unsure what kind of job I actually did. My nose crinkled as I was thinking of explaining what I did in life before all this shit without sounding like I was bragging.

"Well, basically we were catching criminals, mainly serial killers, based on their behavior. You analyze how the victim was killed and left what was done to them, where was the body left. We were profilers." I was looking blankly in front of me now, thinking about days on the job and all the evil people I've met and spoken to. How many close calls I had with death and yet nothing compared to the nightmare we're living in now.

"Not the most useful skill in zombie apocalypse though. I cannot just talk my way out with walkers by telling them how watching their moma kill herself made them what they are now, right?" I looked at him with a serious face, even if my words were laced with sarcasm.

"Whatever lay down, I'll take the first watch." He stood up abruptly to check the perimeter, and I was looking at him, my gaze following his actions.

"Ok, but wake me up in few hours so we can swap you need your sleep as well, Dixon." It was still early, but I knew we'll be waking up before the first light, plus all this walking around in the woods was tiring, but something didn't sit well with me. Daryl finished our conversation abruptly, even though he seemed interested in my story before.

What did I actually know about younger Dixon? Not a lot, most time we spend together, we were quiet and shared only a few stories before coming back to camp, most of our talks focusing on subjects of hunting or Merle talking his mouth off about nothing in particular. The rest of the information I had was just observation and some comments from Merle, and I didn't know how much to believe in his words.

Alright, so Daryl is in his mid-thirties and lived in Georgia his whole life, most of it with Merle, grabbing some odd jobs before they moved on. I suspected all that moving around was because older Dixon was doing drugs and owed money to many people or was trying to avoid jail time.

But that doesn't explain Daryl's social awkwardness and how guarded he behaves. He definitely is an introvert and doesn't like to be touched even when his brother puts an arm on him, I noticed Daryl goes still and tense. That suggests some sort of abuse, but not from Merle, no, he wouldn't be able to look at him like he does. Daryl actually looks up to his big brother.

I let a low growl of frustration. This new world makes me go crazy; I could separate myself from any personal emotions before all of this, but now we had people to look after, people to protect, and as much as it was flattering, I wasn't used to someone depend on her in that way. I started to care for those people, and my weird fascination with Daryl Dixon was undoubtedly unhealthy. I shouldn't be so invested in trying to get to know him. And for sure, I shouldn't give a damn if I hurt his feelings or stirred something from his past.

"Ya thinkin' so loud, that ya'll attract all the geeks from this woods." His low voice startled me, and I sat up in my makeshift bed. Daryl was sitting across from me, on the other side of our little campsite, cleaning his crossbow, eyes not leaving the weapon, but I could tell that he was alert, ready for anything to make a move in the dark. When I didn't reply straight away, he quickly glanced in my direction, one brow risen in a silent question. I let a small sigh escape my lips as I run my hand over my face.

"What I said before." The words I spoke were quiet and soft, eyes locked on him, watching for any body language changes. "I know that we don't tell each other a lot, but I'd like to think that you don't mind my company. The last few hunting trips were pleasant, and you didn't call me stupid in like a week, so that's progress."

I watched his lips twitch a little making me form my own small smile on my full lips. "But that last comment, about how I'd sometimes talk to suspects..." I stopped when Daryl stiffened, and a muscle on his face twitched while he clenched his jaw. It was very subtle, he was good, very good at hiding his emotions. But I was very good at what I was doing before the world went to shit, so I noticed it even in the dark of the night.

"There, that was this same reaction you have now. Now I don't want to pry... "

"Then don't" He interrupted me, his voice harsh, hands grabbing his weapon just a little bit harder than necessary. I looked down at my hands, thinking on how to play it out. Talking to Daryl was like a long and complicated chess game, one silly move, and checkmate.

"Alright, I just wanted you to know that I didn't mean anything by it." With that, I laid back down, turning on my side, so I was facing away from him, giving a man some sort of privacy.

Next Chapter

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #slow burn #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl fanfiction

5 notes · View notes

lenademonn · 4 years

Text

All This Time

A slow burn Daryl Dixon x OC; from season 1 forward, ongoing. Angst, Violence, strong language, sarcastic humour and more.

Chapter 1

.............................................................................................................................

Day 1 When I heard the phone call, I was already packing my backpack and duffel bag. I was breathing steadily, and my moves were calm and methodical. I already had a set of clothes, a few thermals, pants, t-shirts, a collection of underwear, and my shooting gloves, which I stashed in the front pocket. All the weapons were put in the duffel bag alongside spare ammo and two sets of throwing knives. I flipped my hair over the shoulder while reaching for my mobile, thinking of what other necessities I should put in the bags.

"SSA James, speaking" My voice was even and on point. I reached for a flashlight and put it in the side pocket of my backpack. There was shouting on the other side of the line, and shots were heard.

"Elena! Did you see the news?" It was Michelle, my best friend of many years. We met at work ages ago and hit it off instantly, even though we've worked in different departments that didn't stop our friendship from blossoming. Right now, she was shouting orders and breathing heavily into the phone.

"Of course, I did. I also saw what's happening outside of my window" I snorted in laughter and moved towards the kitchen. Holding the phone by my shoulder, I started packing food from cupboards and analyzing what will last the longest. "I'm heading to Atlanta right now, Jackson called me just before you did." Gunfire, on the other side, grew louder, and screams became more fearful.

"Michelle, are you still there? What's happening?!" I was usually a composed type of person, and it was hard to put me off balance, but right now I started to realize how serious everything was. I was afraid for my friend.

"Elena, no time! DC is overrun, we lost contact with others." I stopped and swallowed hard. I knew what she was trying to say, and my breathing quickened.

"Michelle, I love you, I couldn't wish for a better friend."

"Me too, El. Head for Atlanta, stay safe, try to trust people, you can't make it alone! I -" Before Michelle could say anything else, the line was cut off. My shoulders were shaking from silent cry, both hands holding tightly to the counter. This feeling inside me, like someone, was trying to rip my heart out and was squeezing my guts, the sense of pain I knew too well, was the main reason I decided to not get attached to anyone anymore. I let out an uncontrollable sob, and few tears slipped from under my eyelids.

Minutes passed before I managed to compose myself, wiping tears from my cheeks. I pulled my long, blonde curls into a high bun and quickly finished packing. When I left for the car, I knew that nothing will ever be the same. Without looking back, I put the car in gear and headed towards Atlanta.

The highway leading to the city was packed, and cars were full of people. Some were bored, inpatient and some started showing signs of panic. My car was on the outer line, engine turned off, and I was slowly chewing on a granola bar. I pushed a few loose hair strands from my face and reached for the radio that sat on the passenger side, turning it on and putting it onto the right channel.

"This is Agent James, broadcasting to Atlanta base, please respond," I voiced with determination. I had tried this already at least five times in the last two hours, but without any effect. Finally, making a decision, I opened the door and left the car, checking if my handgun was in place and reached the back seat to grab a hunting knife out of my duffel bag. I drove for three hours before I've gotten to where I am now, and there were few things I noticed on the road.

One, these sick people, well, they weren't people anymore, more like animals, doing anything to get what they want. And it seems that what they want now is to eat other people.

Two, hurting them in any other place, but their head does shit nothing. Three, the noise attracts them, hence stabbing and silent weapons are the smartest thing. What I would do to have a bow with me right now, unfortunately, that's not a weapon I usually use anywhere but on the training grounds.

I moved towards the city, maneuvering between still cars.

"This is Agent James, broadcasting to Atlanta base, please respond!" I passed a big RV with an older guy in a fisherman hat, a few families, a fat black guy who tried to call someone on his cellphone. People were all around me, and I saw a couple of kids playing cards, eating, and setting sleeping bags in their cars. My radio crackled, and I quickly put it up to my ear.

"Agent James, this is Anderson. Stay away from the city!" Anderson? He was a low key level office mouse, where is the rest?

"Anderson, what the fuck is happening?! Where is Lee?" I stopped in my tracks when I heard the sound of planes and helicopters flying towards the city. People around me started getting out of the cars and trying to see what was happening. Is it evacuation? Or...

"City is lost! We lost - contact with White House" Radio started crackling, and I heard screams and pain sounds coming through it. My breath hitched in my chest. "--Not safe - lost - get out."

And then I saw it: no evacuation, no refugee centers, no safe house in Atlanta. The planes, they were dropping napalm onto the streets, sounds of explosions started reaching the highway, and I quickly turned around to run to my car.

"Go back to your cars! The city is lost, go back, turn around!" I screamed while running towards my black SUV. As I was passing a cream RV, the guy in the fisherman hat grabbed my arm.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, what's happening, what do you mean the city is lost?" I tensed under his touch and looked up at him, my eyebrow rose just slightly. The man looked ashamed and quickly released me and stepped back. That's what I thought, old man.

"They dropping napalm into the city," I said with a steady voice still looking at him with a stern look. "Whatever camps were left, they got overrun. There is nothing in Atlanta, but dead right now" He shook his head in disbelieve.

"We need to leave this place, Ma'am." He took his hat off and run a hand through his graying hair. "There is an old quarry about 5 miles south from here, we need to turn around and get off this highway" I looked at him again with calculating eyes. Michelle's words rang in my head, about trusting people and letting them in. Can I do it? I am perfectly capable of doing this by myself, but what exactly is it. Is it just some virus that will die out in a few days? Or is it something way more severe.

Even during working on a case, I had a team to work with, to watch each other's backs. I know how to survive, my childhood, and later training took care of that. But can I make it completely alone? God knows how long it all will last or even if it will ever end.

"Lead the way, we should try to get as many people with us as possible. It's not safe here." I answered and run off to her car, while the man stepped into his RV.

I was thinking quickly while turning the car around. Being with people isn't anything new, but that isn't just another case with work colleagues, I don't have a plan, witnesses or suspects to interrogate. That would be just me, plain Elena James without masks and without federal backup. Can I let these people know who I am, or will it be another play on my part, for God only knows how long?

Day 3

After two days at the quarry, we've already had around twenty people in our little camp. We stationed cars in strategic places and set up the tents Glenn found yesterday on the run to the city. The city, Atlanta. Both me and Shane were against him going back there. It was stupid and reckless, close to a suicide mission. But we eventually agreed, after a young man told us that he knows the streets and is basically a walking map of Atlanta. When he came back, everyone wanted to know what happened there and if there are any survivors. There weren't, not that he could tell, and we didn't ask anymore as he looked shaken up.

Shane was a cop, so everyone automatically trusted him, he was good at quick thinking and had protective instincts. When I mentioned that I was working for the government, it also set me high in their eyes, and now people were either looking at Shane or me with their needs. I still wasn't comfortable around them, hell I probably never will, but I promised myself that I will try, for Michelle.

"Where are you going?" Dale, the RV guy, came up to me when I started heading towards the tree line, gun, and machete by my side. "I am going to the woods, I need to gather few things" I looked at the old man and smiled, reassuring him everything will be fine. "I can take care of myself, don't worry." Without waiting for his response, I walked away towards the forest.

My boots were quiet against the ground. We did swift perimeter check when we set up the camp, but still, better to be careful than sorry. I knew exactly what I was looking for. I wasn't wasting any time, scooted a few branches and sticks, still looking for more and collected small rocks into my bag. I breathed in deeply, enjoying the quiet, wondering how the hell all this started. Will it ever end? Is it just temporary plaque, like black death in the old ages or is it something we can't overcome. In the woods' peacefulness, it was easy to forget that our country was now in a state of emergency.

I was moving silently through the forest, looking around and on the ground, searching for things I needed.

I was perfectly aware that someone was following me, for the last fifteen minutes, the steps were quiet, but I had good hearing and knew how to recognize noises even in the forest. I had a pretty good idea who it was. I saw him move yesterday when they were checking the area and securing the quarry. I noticed then that even though he was a well-built man, he moved quietly and carefully, a typical hunter. He had to be experienced, and the forest was definitely his forte, even before what happened in the last few days. Not surprising as his weapon of choice was a crossbow that also explained deliciously looking arms, no one learns how to use that kind of thing overnight.

I stopped suddenly, shaking my head. What the fuck am I thinking about?! That's not the time or place to think about some guys arms, some guy I don't even know, no matter how good looking.

I closed my eyes and listened. His footsteps stopped as well, and on my left, I could hear soft noises of birds. Yes, this is precisely what I needed to finish this little trip. I reached carefully for one of my knives, which sat secured on my sides, just under my breasts, by reins. It was an ingenious looking holster for my throwing knives set, design of yours truly. All that construction was hidden under my open flannel shirt, holding six knives altogether.

I took one out, turned in the direction of a bird I heard. It sat on one of the higher branches on a nearby tree. Now I know jack shit about birds, all I know it's medium-sized, and at the moment, it was using its beak to clean its feathers. I looked only at my target, positioning my body quietly in the perfect angle for a throw, I breathe in and out, steadily and release. The knife hit the mark perfectly in the bird's neck, the only issue was that the force of a throw impaled it to a tree's bark. It was tall and almost completely lacked any smaller branches on the bottom.

"Fuck!" I walked quickly to the tree and looked around it for any reachable branches which would allow me to climb up. Nothing, just my luck. I guess it's time for plan B.

"Well, I guess the show's over Dixon!" I spoke loud enough for him to hear me. "Move your ass here and give me a boost." I turned around on my heel to look in the spot where he supposed to be. That is if I didn't misjudge the distance and direction of his steps. I didn't luckily, that would make me look super stupid, he came out from between the trees.

"How the hell did ya know I was there, woman?" Daryl looked at me through squinted eyes, brooding expression on his face. Not that it was something weird, these few times I tried to talk to him that was the only look he was giving to people.

"It wasn't that hard. I heard you since you started to follow me. Oh yeah, what's that about?" I crossed my arms on my chest and looked him in the eyes. Or I would if he would be looking anywhere near my face. That's another thing I noticed, Daryl never looked directly at you, not unless you were his brother, Merle. He always was pacing as well, showing how uncomfortable he is around other people.

"I didn't... - I wasn't. I saw ya walkin' around, and ya were in the path of my game." I smirked at how uncomfortable I made him feel, while he tried to make excuses for himself.

"Alright, nevermind that. I wasn't lying about the boost, though. I need that bird and my knife." I put wood I collected by the tree trunk, my bag next to it and waited for the men to come around. He didn't. He looked at me like I'd grew a second head, and his scowl deepened. I sighed quietly.

"Come on, Daryl, I am not some helpless lady, and if I didn't need your help, I wouldn't ask. The tree doesn't have any lower branches, and I'm way too short to reach it even if I'd jump. So move your ass here and give me a boost." After a second of silence, I added strained "Please" through gritted teeth. I hated the fact that I need to ask for help, especially someone like Dixon.

That's all I need some Redneck thinking that I can't do shit by myself. But I had to admit that the thought of his hands touching me, this bulky arms wrapped around me 'stop it!'. Daryl finally moved towards me, pulling his bow's strap around him, so it sat safely on his back.

"Alright, you stand here, give me a nice steady and high boost, so I can reach it. I'll be fine with pulling myself up." He stood almost entirely underneath the branch, while I looked up accessing the distance and how I need to grab the tree to properly pull myself up. I nodded while man laced his fingers together and stood in a steady position.

"Ok, three, two, one!" I placed my right foot in his hands, placed mine onto his shoulders to stabilize myself, and when he straightened his back and pushed me up, I reached my arms out, stretching for the branch. I felt it under my palms, and using my upper body strength pulled up to get on a tree. Lying on my stomach, I twisted my body and pulled my left leg around the other side of the branch, so I was sitting just in front of my game.

I smiled wildly and removed the knife from the bird's neck, it looked like a smaller version of a hawk, but again my ornithology knowledge was ultimately none existing. I wiped the animal blood from the blade on my pants and put it back in its holder. I took the bird and threw it to the ground, looking down. Daryl still stood under the branch tracing her movement with his blue eyes.

I smiled again as an idea popped into my head. Now, I'm not sure why I kept pushing younger Dixon's buttons, I was usually proper and composed, but something about him made me behave like a silly girl. I was perfectly able to make my way down, yet I chose this. "Hey, Big Guy, are you ready?"

"What for?" He grunted, barely raising his voice, shifting his weight from one leg to another, only sign that my comment made him uncomfortable.

"Well the plan up was great, just didn't really think about going down. So..." I looked at him with a smug smile. "Catch me!"

Daryl had only seconds to process what's this crazy woman above him was talking about, when I swang my leg over the branch facing him and pushed myself off the tree, falling down. I am not stupid; I was ready to roll on impact to minimalize the damage, just if he wasn't quick enough. Or simply in case, Daryl would decide not to react at all.

Luckily he responded immediately, stepping forward, arms in front of him, legs spread and knees slightly bent to steady himself for the impact. He caught me almost bridal style as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Impact winded him and caused Daryl to lose his balance and fall on his ass with me still in his arms. I laughed softly, aware of the position I got us in, my body flushed against his. He quickly shoved me off him and stood up, not looking in my direction at all.

"Ya're crazy as they come, woman!" His voice sounded more like a growl, and that just made me laugh harder. Oh, that was a great idea, I think I just found my new favorite activity. Making Daryl Dixon uncomfortable. He shook his head and just walked away, leaving me alone on the forest floor.

I was sitting in front of my blue single-person tent, few hours after the event in the woods, I had a bunch of sticks in my lap, hunting knife in my right hand and tool bag on the ground next to me.

"What you doing?" I glanced up to see Carl standing in front of me, his young face full of interest.

"You'll see when I finish, kiddo." My smile was gentle, or I hoped it was, while I kept sliding my knife on a piece of wood.

"Come on, Miss Elena, please tell me." I noticed that several adults were looking in our direction, sitting just a few steps away in the small group eating lunch: Lori, Shane, joyful T-Dog, and Jaquie, who always smiled. Further away, separately, I could see Dixon brothers. Merle noticed that I watched them and made a kiss face, making me roll my eyes and look back at the kid standing in front of me. I was never very good with children, truth to be told—small babies yes but teenagers that's a different story.

"I'm making bow and arrows so I can go hunting and also, so I have a long-distance weapon without attracting the dead," I explained to him quietly, hoping that not many others will hear my answer. Glancing at their faces, I could tell that I half succeeded.

"Really? That's so cool, can you teach me how to do it? Please!" Carl seemed impressed, but then he was a teenage boy, I guessed many stories I could tell would impress him if I would be willing to share them with anybody. I looked at his excited face and put a smile on my face.

"Tell you what kiddo. When you a bit older and have a bit more muscles to pull back the arrow, I'll teach you. But for now, you can watch what I'm doing, ok?" The boy nodded quickly and sat down next to me, moving my bag just slightly but not out of my reach, carefully observing my every move. Up ahead, I saw Lori smiling at me as in thanks for making her child happy. But I could also feel stares from my right, and then I heard older Dixon speak.

"Where lil' lady like you learned to do shit like that, Blondie?" I stopped carving with a silent sigh and reached for a tool bag and took out a sandpaper piece. I started gently but firmly to drag it along the wood, smoothing the edges. Bidding my time and thinking what to say to that. Am I supposed, to tell the truth or lie my face off?

Does it still matter what I did before? I knew that others were still hoping that the military would save them, but me... I knew that it probably won't happen.

I cleared my throat, making a decision, and finally looked at Merle, my face blank, lacking a smile I was sporting just moments ago. "The Farm"

"The Farm? What kind of fuckin' farm teaches that type of survival skills?" Merle's face shows confusion, his southern drawl deepening while he cursed, but it was Shane's eyes I was looking at, and I could see a recognition.

"The one in Williamsburg, Virginia," I answered shortly, glancing again in Dixon brothers' direction.

"No fuckin’ way!" Finally, that triggered something in Merle's head as his eyes widened.

"Watch the language Dixon!" said Lori looking in his direction. Shane stood up and walked over towards me and crouched on the grass in front. I stopped my work, knowing that this conversation was unavoidable and looked over at him, face blank, lips pulled in the thin line, and my eyes' stern glare.

"You're CIA?" he said quietly with a look of disbelief on his face.

"No. FBI, but my unit had survival training there." The man stood up and pulled hands to his face before turning away from me and then back, nearly shouting in my face.

"Then why the fuck are we still here? Where's military, government, where are your buddies?!"

I sighed. I should've known that this will be the reaction, at least from a few of them. They were scared, waiting for help, which will most probably never come. I noticed that more people came around wanting to see what's all the commotion was about. I tucked a few loose strands behind my ears, just a quick way to compose myself, and after a deep breath, I started talking.

"I left my home in Palmetto three days ago. I got an order to go to Atlanta, meet with people, and work on solutions, pull our intels together to find out if it's a terrorist attack, or like a biological weapon. Before I left, I got a phone call from my friend in DC." I closed my eyes for second, wounds of losing Michelle still fresh. I was also looking for the right words to explain rest.

"Capitol was overrun, lost. They lost contact with others. That's all the information I received before lines were cut off. Later that day in Atlanta, you know just before they set the city on fire, I communicated with our people in there. Most agents lost their lives, I've been told not to come in and also that White House has fallen."

I looked up along faces in front of me to see what's their reactions were. I saw that they are scared and that last piece of hope they had disappeared after what I said.

"I am sorry I didn't tell you guys earlier it's just--" I stopped myself, thinking for second how to deliver what I wanted to say "I don't know what it means. I don't know if there is any safe place left, if any other government parts are still in place. So I didn't say anything because, how could I take that hope away from you when I don't know by myself what's next."

I collected my tools and shoved them inside the tent and then did this same with the sticks, I gave them one last glance and went into the tent, zipping it shut.

Next Chapter

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fandom #slow burn #strong language

2 notes · View notes