#and the only reason Rick became ''worse'' than Shane is because everything else became worse

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

All the "Rick became worse than Shane" this and "Negan was actually the good guy" that-

Y'all forget that Shane SA'd Lori and was willing to kill his best friend to keep her, not even giving a shit how she feels. Rick would never. And he would never burn his own people's faces off for being 'disobedient'. He was a total dictator at times but to a group who actually love and care about eachother. A family who aren't glorified bandits thinking they're entitled to everybody's stuff and would kill you if you didn't give it. Dude was very trigger-happy for a while there, but he brought it back. There's a lot of similarites between Rick, Negan and Shane but the differences are key. Can y'all stop tryna be so transcendent?

[marvelstarwarsetc]

All We Know- Daryl Dixon

PART EIGHT

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Cussing, Violence, Gore (The fact that its the walking dead should be warning enough lol)

Summary: Finding her way back to her sisters was all that mattered to her. When the world ended she had lost everything, so finding them became all that mattered. Or at least, it was, until she stumbled across a redneck hunting in the woods.

*Starts in Season 1 and will be a multi part fic*

Part One  Part two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Seven  Part Seven (Daryl’s POV)

When Y/n woke it was in the passenger seat of Daryl’s old pickup truck, with Daryl sitting in the driver’s seat beside her. She tried her best not to, but couldn’t help the groan of pain that escaped her lips when she tried to lift her head off the seat.

“Woah, Ya alright?” Daryl’s voice filled the truck, and for some reason Y/n found herself fighting back a smile at the concern laced into his tone. She hummed in confirmation before turning her head to look out the window, watching the trees that whizzed by.

“Where are we going?” She asked curious, though she had to admit she wasn’t mad they were leaving the quarry camp. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to handle staying there after all that’s happened.

“Jim got bit, was bringin’ ‘im ta the CDC. He didn’ make it.”

Y/n didn’t know Jim very well, at all really. But she couldn’t help the pang of sadness she felt when she thought about all the people the group just lost. “How long til’ we get there?” 

“Bout an hour looks like, already been drivin’ a while ‘fore ya woke up. How’s ya face?”

At the question it was like Y/n finally remembered what happened with Andrea, her throbbing face finally making itself known to the woman. She didn’t blame Andrea for hitting her, not at all. Which is why she took each hit her sister threw at her without complaint, because she knew Andrea needed to get her frustrations out and Y/n knew how to take a punch. But the longer she thought about it, the longer she thought about how long Andrea just left Amy there, waiting for their sister to wake back up. Andrea was fully intending on letting Amy wake up as a monster just so she could try to clear her conscience. It was selfish, and Y/n didn’t know if she’d be able to forgive her older sister for it.

Y/n held plenty of guilt when it came to Amy too. All the unanswered text messages, the voicemails that were never listened to. The years that Y/n neglected both of her sisters and kept them away from their niece and nephew. But no matter what, Y/n would never have let Amy wake up like that just so that she could apologize. Not ever. And it hurt her to think that Andrea could. 

“I’m sure it looks worse than it is,” Y/n tried to dismiss, but the words were harder for her to get out than she’d like to admit. Just moving her face to speak was a chore, and she started to regret letting Andrea hit her as many times as she did.

It was obvious that Daryl had more questions, she knew she would have. But the hunter didn’t say anything else as the two drove down the road in silence. 

She could see the Grimes’ truck at the front of the line, with Dale’s RV behind them, and Shane’s jeep at the rear, right behind Daryl’s truck. She briefly wondered where the Morales’ were as there was no way the family of four wouldn’t have taken their own car, but the thought was forgotten as they all pulled up in front of the CDC.

The front of the CDC looked like a war zone, corpses everywhere, both military and civilians. Sand bag barricades had been constructed to reinforce security at the entrance, probably when shit had really started to hit the fan. The smell was something awful, Y/n noticed as everyone started to get out of their vehicles. There were no walkers in the area at that moment, but she took her tactical knife out just in case, as Daryl had with his crossbow. 

The smell seemed to get stronger and stronger as the group moved closer to the CDC, and Y/n was on high alert when various group members started coughing. She knew the sound would no doubt draw walkers to their location.

“All right, everybody. Keep moving. Go on. Stay quiet. Let’s go,” Shane whispered as he moved to bring up the rear of the group with Daryl and Y/n. For a moment Daryl wondered if Y/n should be ready to take on walkers so soon after getting the shit beat out of her, but that seemed to be the last thing on the woman’s mind as she stayed alert.

When the group finally made it to the doors of the CDC the stench coming from the sea of dead bodies was almost suffocating, and various people started retching from the smell. Suddenly Daryl handed a bandanna over to Y/n while he tied one over his nose and mouth, and she wondered for a second where the hell he got these from before she took the bandanna from the man and secured it over her own bruised face.

Rick tried to roll down the security door, but to everyone’s horror the door didn’t budge. “Nothing?” Shane asked as he pushed against the door himself, pounding on it for good measure.

It was getting dark quickly, and growing harder and harder to ignore that they were sitting ducks out here in the open like this.

 “There’s nobody here.” T-dog said, the annoyance and worry showing in his tone. Everyone looked to Rick then, as he seemed to be looking over the door frantically for an answer. ”Then why are these shutters down?”

The groans of walkers started to fill the streets, causing panic to fill everyone in the group. Lori and Carol both clutched their children tightly to their chests as Daryl called out to warn everyone when the first walker could be seen making it’s way towards the group.

“You led us into a graveyard!” Daryl accused Rick, sending an arrow flying towards a walker when he noticed Y/n move to take it out with her knife.

“He made a call,” Dale defended in that voice that bordered on condescending, causing Daryl to snap back at him. “It was the wrong damn call!”

Shane turned towards Daryl defensively, “Just shut up. You hear me? Shut up. Shut up!” Before he turned his attention back to his best friend, his tone softening. “Rick this is a dead end.”

“Where we gonna go?” Carol asked, fear clear in her voice as she looked down at her daughter.

“She’s right,” Lori started, “We can’t be here, this close to the city after dark.”

And Lori was right. The city was the worst place to be right now, and by the looks of the street it wasn’t any better here either.

“Fort Benning, Rick—still an option.”

The rest of the group started arguing about where to go. About how fort benning was too far for the amount of supplies they had. The children started crying as more and more walkers came into view, and Daryl started shooting as many as he could to try and keep Y/n from having to use her knife. Y/n thought about shooting some with the shotgun Rick had given her, but her eye sight wasn’t the best after the beating she had gotten and the sound would only draw more walkers to them.

“All right, everybody back to the cars. Let’s go. Move.” Shane ordered, before Rick seemed to have notice something the others didn’t.

 “The camera—it moved.”

“You imagined it,” Dale dismissed.

“It moved.”

“Rick, it is dead, man. It’s an automated device. It’s gears, okay? They’re just winding down. Now come on.” Everyone started to move back towards the cars, Y/n and Daryl still watching for walkers that got too close, but Rick just stood by the door. Not moving a muscle.

“Man, just listen to me. Look around this place. It’s dead, okay? It’s dead. You need to let it go, Rick. Rick, there’s nobody there.” Shane put himself in between the door and his best friend, trying desperately to get his friend to just give up and get back to the cars. But Rick only fought past him, beating on the door instead.

“I know you’re in there. I know you can hear me.”

Shane only ignored his friend, turning his attention back to the rest of group again. “Everybody get back to the cars now!”

“Please, we’re desperate. Please help us. We have women, children, no food, hardly any gas left.”

At the sight of her husband desperately pleading to a closed door, Lori ran up to Rick. “Rick, there’s nobody here.” But Rick only ignored her as he continued to talk to whoever he thought was listening on the other side.

“We have nowhere else to go.”

“If you don’t let us in, you’re killing us!”

Shane and Lori tried their best to move Rick away from the door while everyone else kept their eyes open, fighting back any walkers they could. By now there were more and more walkers gaining on them, and Glenn, T-dog, and Y/n started taking them down with their knives.

“You’re killing us! You’re killing us! You’re killing us!” Rick screamed on repeat while almost everyone were just begging him to get into the cars as it became less and less safe for them out in the open.

For a minute it seemed like Shane might just get Rick to the cars, and then the unthinkable happened.

The large metal door to the CDC opened with a hiss of steam.

[yukalatte]

Slip Off

He knew it was just a slip off, hell even he warned him yesterday that if he got cranky or moody it wasn't because of him, it was just who he was. He understood, so there should've be no problem.

But he knew he was really done fucked up this time.

It was a normal Friday, first week on Spring. Woke up at 6, made him breakfast (omelet this time), morning kiss and started the day. Friday was also Shane's favorite day because finally he could go to saloon for enjoying Friday night, among other things of course. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy Rick's farm. He awfully loved it. The calmness within the forest with gently feeling of wind blowing through his skin and faint sound of cows and chickens, eating happily outside their barn and coop.

If there were any perfect pictures of heaven, he bet this was one of them.

He enjoyed seeing Rick working with his farm. The farm was surprisingly tidy and organized. There were sections of fruit trees, fish ponds with...questionable fish species (Rick insisted those fish were legal, at least), and huge section for barn and coop area surrounded by iron fences so the animals wouldn't wander too far. Shane remembered going to this place out of curiosity before Rick came and even he didn't know this used to be a farm. Should he gave Rick props for his hardwork and effort to renovate this farm. Never thought that a stranger from city, came to unknown village for living a new life as a farmer. Such thing was ridiculous to be thought, but here he was, looking at the fruition of Rick's hardwork.

And to think that he chose Shane than the others. His Rick was full of surprise indeed.

“I'm going out today, alright?” Rick only smiled and kissed him on the lips before storming to his farm. Shane put the omelet inside microwave while prepared himself before going to Pierre's, cheeks still tinged with blush. Get a grip, old man! He did this every morning for godsake!

Oh how far they would become, Shane thought. From strangers who shunned each other (mostly from Shane, obviously) to partners for life. He probably couldn't get away from shock remembering at the end of Fall last year, Rick barged into Marnie's house and straight up went at him with mermaid pendant on his hand. Shane, with frozen pizza on his hands, also went frozen (that was bad). His life was full of surprise after Rick came into his life, being a boyfriend even after witnessing his pathetic breakdown several times, and now became his husband that loved kissing him as often as he could. And that happened within Rick's first year as a villager of Stardew Valley.

Damn his husband was full of surprise indeed.

After buying stuff from Pierre's, Shane straight up went to saloon, order cans of Joja Cola and one beer, and played Prairie King. Eventhough he promised that he wouldn't drink anymore, but he admitted to his husband that he finally breached his breakpoint and couldn't live without the bitterness from fresh poured beer. Rick only sighed and kissed him on the cheek.

"Just don't drink too much, okay?" he said while kissing him, down south this time.

Rick occasionally gave Shane homemade mead or pale ale. He liked it but nothing beat the saloon beer of course.

Shaking his head, Shane started arranging his cans and glass within his reach and started playing. At least playing game could repress his alcohol addiction, if just a little.

Just a normal Friday.

Until it was not.

"GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!!"

Shane slammed the machine as his character evaporated on the screen. He lost, so fucking much. He couldn't even get 5th level. That fortune teller on tv was probably right, no blessing today. Out of frustration he went to cashier and order one beer.

And another.

And another.

He went back home, realizing that he ordered 5 more glass of beer. And he didn't care. His mood forced him to. Even the usual gentle night breeze hit cold on his skin. Shane entered the house and saw Rick on the kitchen, tired smile on his face. It was unusual, seeing Rick still awake. Judging by his dirty attire, he surely overworked on the farm and probably dead tired.

I should greeted him, Shane thought.

Maybe giving him nice kiss, he thought as well.

But his eyes focus on behind his back and noticed unwashed dishes and trash scattered around the kitchen floor.

He was not happy.

"Why don't you clean up the house when I'm gone?"

Rick's smile vanished

"You know you could picking up trash when I'm going out."

He had no idea why he said it. It was cruel, he knew it. But his bad mood overshadowed his judgement.

He walked to the sink, hopefully-not-so-violently brushed off Rick's shoulder and working on the dishes. He corrected himself, this was a really, if not the worst, bad Friday. He lost on game, now he did the dishes. Great. He continued doing the dishes and grumpily complained every single unfortunate events he encountered today. He almost didn't recognize the sound from microwave until he checked what was cooked inside.

It was the omelet. Untouched omelet that he made for Rick this morning.

He quickly took a glance at the dishes. Those dishes were the ones he used for making breakfast this morning. And trash that scattered around, eggshells and milk jug that Rick took the day before for breakfast this morning. He remembered that he forgot to put those on the trashcan and just left in on kitchen counter.

His mind went back on Rick's face. Full of dirt and that tired smile. Shane tried to tie those images together.

Oh God.

"What have I done..."

In the end, he couldn't do anything about it. After realized what stupidity had he done, Shane rushed into their bedroom and found Rick already sleeping. His worn clothes were put neatly on laundry basket, as long with his backpack. Shane joined him on their bed, with horror he caused on his husband.

Rick was too focused on his farm work that he forgot to eat his breakfast, went home late, reheating his late breakfast and Shane barged in, reeked with alcohol, and accused him for things that he caused and left his husband starved for a day. Starved because he hadn't touched anything from the fridge and Shane heavily opposed on his husband eating anything outside their kitchen (he still had that fear seeing Rick eating brown carrot raw) and since then he only ate anything Shane or Rick himself cooked.

Horror probably wasn't exaggeration. Too underwhelming, he mind.

Shane's mood for stupid game vanished after realization of his inexcusable behaviour against his husband. He broke his promise today, now he hurt his Rick. His beautiful Rick, who gave him reason to live, who guided him in his darkest time. And now all of his kindness he offered, Shane threw it away. He felt like a shit now.

He remembered telling Rick that he sometimes got in bad mood and slipped off, but it wasn't because of him. Rick, like a sunshine he was, only nodded in understanding.

He could make this as an excuse of having slip off. But the problem was, this slip off was directed to him, and nothing else.

Shane couldn't sleep at that night, his mind rewinding those events of his failure. It was such a strong word for marriage quarrels, but for him there were no better words for things that had he done. He kept looking on Rick's face, sleeping like a baby. He wanted to hug him, adressing how sorry he was for what he had done. But his coward mind wouldn't allow him to.

Tomorrow he would wake up early and made his favorite dish. And built his courage to apologize at him. He held his husband's hand and with those pledges he made in his mind, he went to sleep.

Tomorrow should be fine, he convinced himself.

But of course sometimes it wouldn't go as planned.

Rick was gone.

Shane woke up late and tried to find his husband but he was nowhere to be seen. Did he go to town? Or mountains? Or probably the forest? He searched for him everywhere, but no luck. He hadn't had his breakfast, which made Shane more anxious. Where the fuck was he?

He finally went back to the farm, sitting on his usual spot, waiting for Rick to come home. Rick should be fine, he convinced himself. He heard some villagers telling stories of how Rick went to dangerous places for helping them. He was strong, his Rick was strong.

Everything should be fine.

He felt touch on his shoulders. Shane looked up.

He was hoping to find his husband's face, full of sweat and smelled dirt and grass.

Instead he found Dr. Harvey, and strong smell of medicine.

"Shane, you should come to the clinic."

His mind went blank.

He still remembered at rainy summer, he laid down unconscious on this clinic's bed when Harvey emptied all the alcohol he consumed while having mental breakdown and considered himself to walk off the cliff. If Rick hadn't found him, he rather wouldn't think about it. That memory was the ugliest one, yet he cherished it because he realized that there was someone who cared deeply for him. It opened his eyes and made him move forward to the brighter future.

But never he imagined that the position was reversed in million times.

Harvey informed him that someone found him unconscious inside mountain mines. He was full of cuts and some of them were in worse condition but thankfully it was quickly handled by Harvey. The doctor informed he could go home after he woke up.

Shane half-heard Harvey's information while his main focus was on the body that laid in front of him. His Rick, oh God Rick...

"I'll leave you both alone, call me if he wakes up," Shane only nodded once. And by that, they were both alone.

He looked so frail. Bandages wrapped most of his hands and legs. He only used pants, and bandages were also wrapped around his chest. Some of cuts were also visible on his face. Shane only could look, he desperately wanted to shake him awake and scream at him of what the fuck was he doing, endangering himself like that. Oh how bad he would do that.

But part of him also reminded him of what had he done to him yesterday.

If he wasn't that grumpy or moody, his husband wouldn't get mad at him, or endangered himself in the mines. If he didn't break his promise to control his alcohol intake, he probably could think clearly and wouldn't slip off like yesterday.

If he didn't do those shits yesterday, this thing wouldn't happen to him.

If only he wouldn't be this stupid.

If only...

Shane's traitorous mind wandered around, making mental image on various ways how he would find Rick in emergency room, blood oozing from his body, pale white skin that contradicted with Rick yellowish skin, glowing with touch of sunlight. His cloudy eyes boldly stared at him and his mouth slightly opened, blood trickled at the corner of his lips.

He couldn't. He couldn't bear the thought of him outlive his husband. Their marriage was oh so young, Shane was still at cloud nine enjoying this luxury that he couldn't imagine.

He couldn't lose Rick.

He...

"Shane?"

All of Shane's horrible thoughts froze, his focus shifted to his face. Rick's blue eyes slightly opened, and he posed that goofy smile again. After all of these horrid accidents, he was still able to pull that smile.

What did he deserved to marry such a fine man like Rick?

"Rick..."

"That bad huh? That annoying black thing really did a great job on me this time. Heh, next time I'll shove my mega bomb on it then we'll back in business."

Next time? Fucking next time??

Did he really...

"Are you fucking serious?! What do you mean next time?! You worry the shit outta me and still thinking of next time?!" Shane screamed at him like no tomorrow. How could he say such thing? Did he never think of how he felt if anything happened to Rick?

And he realized who was responsible to put him in this state. And how he put the similar treatment at Rick; never thought of his feelings.

He froze.

"Shane? Dear, what's wrong?"

His bandaged hand tried to touch Shane's face. Shane, felt like a scum and failure, tried to avoid the touch. But he couldn't. He couldn't move from his seat. He was too scared of outcome, too scared to see his mistakes in front of him. He didn't put much devotion to Yoba, but if Yoba existed, he hoped he could turn back time and prevent those events happen. He would greet him as usual, kissed his husband on the cheek and having a nice night. He desperately wanted to do that.

Except he knew he couldn't. Too good to be true.

He felt his chin lifted up, and his eyes met Rick's, his ocean blue eyes stared at him. Warmth pouring through his gaze, so much that Shane couldn't handle it. He was already in his breaking point and all he could do was cry. Rick hurriedly got up from his bed and pulled his husband into his embrace, ignoring the slight pain he felt. Shane kept crying over his shoulder, hugging him back like a lifeline.

"I'm sorry Rick, I'm so sorry..."

"Hush, dear. Nothing to be sorry about," he whispered. Rick's hand worriedly stroked his husband's hair. Shane shook his head, untangle himself from warm embrace and lift his head so they looked straight at each other.

"No, you listen to me Rick, I did this. ALL OF THIS! If I didn't yell at you yesterday you probably still have energy to fight back. You haven't touched your breakfast since yesterday and went to mines. I should be thankful if your condition isn't bad, bu..but what if it gets worse?" Shane felt his composure slipped away, but he couldn't stop his blabbering. "What if no one finds you, wh...what if you've left rot and d...die there? I-I just made you crispy bass, you like those right? It took a fucking shitton of time to catch that slimy sucker for you. I-I thought you would eat it and then I said sorry a...and we got over with it. Bu...but you weren't there. You were...gone."

He felt his fresh tears flowing again, he choked up.

But he couldn't stop, he should say what needed to be said. Fuck with his wet face.

Now or never.

"Y-you could be go-gone, like for real. And I haven't apologized, and you'll le-leave me alone, become a fucking widower. And this happen be-because of me. I didn't treat you right like you treat me. You...you treat me like a fucking princess and what do I do? Going to saloon, drinking like there's no tomorrow, breaking my promise, and yelling at you as if you're ungrateful husband that never helps me in entire of my life, and let my husband starved. I should be the one who get hurt, not you! I should be.."

Shane's lips met Rick's, silencing him up. His husband's lips felt warm, despite he used minimum clothes in this cold room. Slowly Shane melt on their kiss, calming him down. Until he was pulled again into his husband's warm embrace.

"Oh Shane," said Rick, "you worried about last night? I knew you were just slipping off."

Slipped off? No, it wasn't slip off, Shane screamed in his mind.

"And I know what you're thinking, Shane. Your face are readable as a book. It was a slip off. You reeked of alcohol last night, no surprise that you pulled those talks. Besides you warned me before, remember?"

Shane only nodded, but as Rick said, his face showed him that he still conflicted with so many things. Rick continued his explanations.

"And as for skipping my breakfast today, well that was fully on my fault. I forgot there's errand that I haven't finished yet so I just went there without breakfast nor any preparation." He snickered, "that didn't end well, did it?"

Hearing that Rick didn't put blame on him and thinking it was just a slip off made his body relaxed a little. He lifted his face up to met another kiss from his husband.

"Shane, you are not a failure, or piece of garbage. You are Shane, my bundle of joy that I happily married with. A silly pretty man who only knows how to cook from microwave and work harder to change himself for better. I couldn't ask for more"

Shane only responded with burying his face deeper in his shoulder.

"I'm not pretty," he mumbled.

"Yes yes I know, just 6 inch shorter."

"Don't you ever go there, Rick!"

Rick laughed. And behind his hidden face, Shane smiled. At least everything was taken care of.

"Although," Rick continued, "you shouldn't drink too much. Yesterday you reeked, different than usual. I'm worried." Shane only responded with 'I know', but he mentally took his husband's concern seriously. Rick kept saying it wasn't his fault, but he knew one day those slip offs would've be taken seriously and possibly would affected to their life.

He wouldn't let his husband down.

"Should we call Harvey? I think I'm quite healthy enough."

His embrace became tighter. Rick looked down, looking at Shane buried his face even deeper.

"Just...can it wait for 5 minutes? Please, Rick?"

Rick kissed his temple in response and returned his embrace. Shane finally could exhale freely. Everything was fine, as it should've been.

It was just a slip off.

Note 1 : this is inspired from a surprise Shane dialogue that I couldn't find correct line of it. He mentioned that the player should've taken care the trash and cleaning the house while Shane was going out. It caught me off guard, considering his heart was full and his dialogue showed like he was in low heart situation. Weirdly enough, the day before Shane also mention that if he got cranky it was because of his mood, not him.

Note 2 : I name my character Dawson instead, because everytime I saw Shane, I couldn't help myself saying Dawson afterwards. Can't put his name here, I probably will laugh my ass off.

Note 3 : Sorry for mistakes here and there

Note 4 : Harvey is still better fight me

[aisling-beatha]

Words are for children [SFW]

A standalone story #4

The Walking Dead | Merle Dixon X Reader

Warning: Swearing

The Dixon brothers and you were inseparable. You were just a few years older than Daryl, but it always seemed like you were their little sister. For as long as you could remember the three of you, you always had each other’s back. Merle used to stand up for you in school when older boys tried to make fool of you, then Daryl used to miss his classes only to walk you safely home and you would always make up for them than your neighbors or Daryl’s teachers got particularly suspicious of his or Merle’s activities. Every once in a while the brothers would climb a tree next to your house to get into your room unnoticed. Well, firstly it was only Merle. Then, Daryl grew up and carried on with his brother’s routine. You didn’t really know how it all had happened and why, in the first place, but there you were, friends with the famous Dixon brothers.

When the outbreak started you stuck together, making your away out of the city. Merle and Daryl were skilled enough to hunt and orient themselves in the woods and there were no other people you’d trust your life to but them. Then, the quarry group happened. Merle and Daryl wouldn’t be themselves if they didn’t want to rob those poor people and leave for the greater good. But you insisted on staying.

“Power in numbers,” you said, folding your arms and eyeing both of them.

They fought but eventually gave in, huffing and puffing. And that’s when the real problems began. Not like you didn’t know Merle’s or Daryl’s temper but it was literally impossible to make them nice to anyone in the group. Merle was making comments about every single woman in the quarry, bossing around, getting on everyone’s nerves, and Daryl was… Daryl was his usual himself. He glared everyone down, scowling and sneering whenever anyone tried to approach him. You didn’t expect him or Merle to greet everyone out there with open arms and hearts, but, damn, if they could at least try.

Soon enough though you had to do something about the brothers because them giving no shit about anyone else but themselves and, well, you, was simply disrespectful, keeping in mind that those people let you join them despite boys’ behavior. Your nerves failed you when Andrea told Shane (loud enough for you to hear) that she no longer could stand the three of you, especially “that damned pervert” around. And that’s when you couldn’t take it any longer.

“Hey! Watch your language!” you snapped at her. “Merle might be an asshole but he ain’t a rapist. He never laid a hand on a woman without her say-so. And he sure as hell never left anyone behind which is exactly what you’re trying to do!”

Andrea’s eyes went from you to Merle behind you, who froze in place mouth open, staring at your back. “He’s rough, but he and Daryl are what keeps you, people, alive, so goddamn respect that!”

“Why you’re trying so hard? Aren’t you… Aren’t you scared of them?” she asked cautiously.

“They’re the only family I left,” you shook your head, voice stern but no longer angry. “No longer gonna let anyone take that from me.”

“And what happens if they decide to take advantage of you?”

“Then that’s gonna be my fucking problem, not yours,” your hard eyes met hers. “And I’m gonna deal with that myself.”

And that’s how it went. You stayed. Merle talked to you the same evening in the tent the three of you shared.

“Hey, Bunny?”

The nickname he had given you when you had been in school stuck with you even in your adult life. You were so used to it that it almost felt like home.

“Ya didn’t hafta do tha’ today” he mumbled, looking for your eyes.

“Of course, I did” you grumbled, untying your boots, not really looking at him.

“Nah, could’ve handled that m’self.”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed.

Arguing with Merle was as pointless as trying to catch a bird with a shovel. The man had the most stubborn ass you ever heard of.

Merle was lying on his back, hands under his head, when he eyed you carefully. He had one of those expressions on his face that you couldn’t particularly read.

“Why ain’t ya scared?”

His question caught you off guard as you stopped fidgeting with the buttons on your shirt. You looked over Daryl looking for some kind of explanation but he lowered his eyes, pretending to be extremely interested in a particularly green spot on the ground. You knew that expression of the younger brother too well. Whatever it was, it made Daryl annoyed and insecure, and you hated seeing him like that.

“Da fuck?”

“Wha’? The bitch had a point. Don’t know how ya still put up with us” Merle shrugged trying to look indifferent.

“Don’t you dare, Dixon!” you growled, clicking your fingers to catch his attention. “You ain’t never laid a hand on me, neither did Daryl,” you nodded toward him, receiving a small nod of his in response. “We’ve been together for ages. Don’t you start that shit again.” You shoved his shoulder hard enough to prove your point.

“Whateva ya say, sweetheart,” Merle grinned, lifting his hands in surrender. He turned on his side, facing you, but before he could grab your hands, you took a step back, eyeing him seriously.

“I’m not scared of you. But you gotta stop it, Merle. I don’t want to lose you or Daryl just because you can’t shut your mouth.”

The man sobered up, sharing a long look with his brother before he nodded. “Ain’t gonna promise ya nothing but ‘m gonna try.”

*** Everything was going too fast and you barely had time to reflect on whatever was going on. When the CDC building blew up, you felt both of Dixons covering your body with theirs. The impact-wave was too strong and you were too close, so even being buried under the men’s bodies you could feel the wave of heat burning your skin. You wondered how the brothers could stand the same heat burning their backs and arms. Neither of them complained and it made you feel weak. After all, you were supposed to take care of them too.

Then on the road, you could have and you most certainly would have died if it wasn’t for them. Leaving the Greene farm with Merle on his bike, you were clutching into his shirt, holding for dear life, praying to whatever God to keep the three of you and the others alive. Daryl made it out on the truck, following suit. The brothers didn’t let you go after that night. One of them was always by your side, keeping an eye on you, watching. The three of you were like an anchor to each other, keeping the other two from falling to pieces.

It was so much like it was before. The three of you against the world. Well, against the dead now. And you weren’t exactly alone. The group slowly got used to one another, creating strong and lasting relationship. You became friends with all of them. And truth to be told, it simply couldn’t have turned the other way. Back on the road, you had to have each other’s backs more than once. It was «one for all and all for one” kind of shit. And you couldn’t be happier than you found the prison. Except, well, Merle.

He couldn’t get used to people around him, which was understandable. Dixon had a temper. The man deserved some credit, he was trying, but it turned out not to be enough. He was scaring the shit out of most of the group, let alone having constant trust issues. Everyone expected him to come swinging a rifle one day, frightening or, worse, killing people. It hurt you too. You tried to prove people wrong but what was the point if Merle did exactly the opposite, starting another heated fight over and over again. The man was under no control. Daryl, luckily, turned out to be okay. He got himself close bonds with Rick and Glenn and no longer looked like a beaten dog, thrown out on the street. The man was socializing, which made you feel proud of him. Daryl was more reserved than his brother, but he wasn’t as rough. And you’d be damned if you didn’t feel happy for him. Finally, your friend was finding his place in the world. Daryl was no longer a boy but a man. Not like you ever treated him differently anyway.

Those changes didn’t mean you drifting apart from one another. You were still stuck together but giving the other one enough freedom to be on their own. And that’s what Merle seemed to love the most, once the group had arrived at the prison. Being alone. He became rougher, snapping at you with and without a particular reason, still glaring everyone down, and scowling. You knew the symptoms. He distanced himself and it was on you to bring him back.

During the dinner time, you’d join him out in the open, sitting in the bed of his truck, silent for most of the time. Not like he minded or anything. But you could practically see the wheels turning in his head. You could feel it.

“Stop it, Merle. You’re thinking too loudly” you snorted, nudging him.

But despite your trying to ease the air, the man would remain tensed up. He was like a wild animal, trapped in the corner, ready to fight to the death. It was painful to watch him and neither you nor Daryl could make him open up. Weeks later, though, he showed up in your cell (it was the closest to the porch where the brothers slept).

“Bunny?”

And you talked. Well, Merle was talking while you were listening to him. The man talked non-stop about everything and nothing at the same time as if he needed the moment like a dying man needs air. He was trouble. That’s what he told you. Not only the place made the darkest memories of his life come flooding back but the people were judging. Again. It just became too much to bear. He was a damn mystery to himself, and he felt like he had let both his brother and you down. Which couldn’t be any farther from the truth. Merle saved you. How could you ever ask for more?

When you brought him to sit next to you among the others at the dining table for the first time, everyone fell quiet. Merle stiffened, jaw tight, glaring at everyone with hatred as if he expected the worst. You hand on his hip, and a tight nod was all that kept him away from storming off of the room. But slowly, minute by minute, the conversations were back, everyone acted like nothing was off. Though, you could still feel Merle tensing up under you soothing touch, side-glancing you every once in a while. But he was trying.

“He ain’t gonna change,” you were telling Rick later. “Unless you change the way you treat him. Merle and Daryl had a tough life, they saw shit. More than you could think of. They had shitty past but that don’t mean they’re bad people. Look at me, Rick. I’m alive because they were there, with me. Because Merle was there for me. You may not know how hard it is for him, but I do. Man, he’s trying. So why don’t you try too?”

It took another few months for your people (as you referred them to) to find common ground with the Dixon, and for Merle, well, to gain some trust. He was doing his best, learning to actually communicate instead of fighting. Even Andrea, who was the first in line, demanding to send him off, started to tolerate him. Slowly but surely the man in front of you was changing.

*** Merle opened the gates letting the car in, before closing them back before any walkers could find their way in. Georgian sun had disappeared a long time ago, the days turned out to be grayer with every passing week. The prison was short on supplies, which required another group of four going out that morning. He stole the last glance at the forest, hoping his little brother would be smart enough to find his way back before the rain when he heard crying from the prison yard. Glenn was leaning on both Maggie’s and Tyreese’s shoulders, barely moving his legs. The three of them looked like they’d been through a blood bath or something.

Merle’s eyes frantically looked for you. You weren’t in the car, and something in the look of those three made his heart fall to his stomach.

“Where’s she?” he growled, looking from one to another. “Where’s she?!”

“Th-there was a…” Maggie started but Merle’s roar made her close her eyes as she tried to suppress her sobbing.

“Ain’t giving a shit wha’ happen’. Asked where’s she?!”

“There was a damn herd coming at us! She got separated. We tried to look for her but there were too many of them,” Glenn blurted out, voice becoming quieter with every word until it was no louder than a whisper. “I’m sorry, man.”

His heart stopped. Merle stood there, frozen in place, running his hands up and down his face, trying to shake it all off. Maggie’s cries became muffled when she pressed her face into Glenn’s chest. Though Merle thought his ears were stuffed.

He made his way to Glenn, barely holding himself from killing the damn kid. Instead, he came closer, his eyes never leaving the car behind the trio.

“Give me that gun!” he barked out.

Glenn was probably too shocked by a sudden change in man’s demeanor to react on time. But it was too late when Merle yanked the gun from the holster, shoving it behind his waistband, turning on his heels only to make his way back to the car.

“Merle!” someone shouted at him, but he’d be dead if he cared. His blood was boiling, resonating somewhere in his head, making his vision blurry. Or maybe it wasn’t just the pain.

Someone shouted about his bike, that was faster or something, but Merle was too occupied turning the old Nissan around, pushing the gas pedal to the ground, making his way to the gates. At that point, he wouldn’t really care if he rammed the gates.

At some point, he heard Glenn’s voice giving him the route. But the only thing that was going through his mind was that no way would he stop.

***

He hit the brakes so hard that the deafening whizzes of the wheels could probably be heard miles away. Not like he cared, again. Merle looked around, paying no attention to the walkers wandering nearby. He was looking for a mall, you had to be in when the herd had caught up with your group. It took him another five long and agonizing minutes to find it. The herd must have gone through, as there was no single soul, dead or alive.

For the second time in a day, Merle felt like suffocating on his own air. His heart was beating so fast, it was ready to explode in his chest.

The man made his way to the blockage at the end of the hall. It seemed that the beams had collapsed on the stairs, that couldn’t withstand the pressure. The bodies of the dead were scattered all over the floor, smeared and crushed by the fittings, some of them were still hissing and banging their rotten teeth, their dead eyes looking into the void.

A huge hole in the floor gaped in the middle of the room. Merle had to go to the very edge and squat down to see the remains of the bearing walls and the horde buried beneath them. His eyes fluttered restlessly over the ruins of what was left when his gaze accidentally caught hold of a painfully familiar shirt. He had given you this shirt on one of the cold nights, and he didn’t dare to take it back. Something was about seeing you wear it every day.

Merle jumped down, at the last minute thinking that he wouldn’t be of any use if he broke his limbs on these ruins. As soon as he came closer, even greater fear seized him, forcing him to freeze in place. A mixture of blood, rot, skin, and clothes covered your body and a soft growl from somewhere below iced his skin. It took him too much time to overcome the fear that sat somewhere under the ribs to climb down.

“Y/N?”

The growl didn’t stop, but something stirred under a pile of bodies. The walker lying on top plopped down on his side with a muffled clatter. Merle seemed to be doused with cold water. Your hands were covered with a layer of dirt, and your clothes were soaked in blood.

“Mer-Merle?”

Your voice, your gentle, but at the same time strong voice, which he so loved to listen to, was now no louder than a whisper. You opened your eyes with obvious difficulty, which inexorably started to ache from the dust that got into them. Pain fettered the body. You tried to turn your head to the sound of a familiar voice, fearing that that was just another game of your mind. However, rustling and chaotic curses proved the opposite. After a couple of seconds, Merle's face appeared in your field of vision. You called him again, feeling your body seizing with a tremendous tremor.

“Merle!” you cried, feeling hot tears burning your skin when the man placed his hand on the side of your face. He was kneeling down beside you, eyes wide in shock.

“Y/N… Shit, girl. Ya hurt? Ya better tell me ‘s not yer blood…” he mumbled, and you caught a hint of unhidden panic in his voice.

“No. it’s not. I-I had to cut it open so that they wouldn’t find me” you motioned to the walker next to you.

“Shit,” Merle cursed again. “Can ya stand up?”

You had to close your eyes and bite your lip, so as not to scream when you tried to rise, leaning on your forearms. A sharp pain pierced the spine, which immediately went to the numb arms and legs.

"I ... I don’t know. I tried to hide from the horde when the concrete flew down. I don’t remember what happened then, but I woke up here with walkers around. I must have fallen on my back ..." you sighed unevenly, trying to catch Merle’s eyes. “Don’t… Don’t leave me, please. God, Merle, just don’t leave me here.”

You were crying not really registering anything around when Merle started shushing you down. His hands went to grab your face, making you look at him. You stared in his ocean eyes, your own eyes red from both crying and soreness at the same time.

Merle wasn’t smiling, wasn’t talking, he just looked back at you, before whispering. You couldn’t remember his voice so soft and uneven, as he leaned closer to you, whispering, never looking away. “I’m sorry. Fuck, girl…”

Merle stood up, but only to grab you by your shoulders and stick his hands under your knees. He intended to bring you back no matter what it cost him. But he wasn’t ready for your painful moan escaping your lips when he lifted you from the concrete slab. You grabbed his broad shoulders, nails digging into the skin. It took Merle himself a minute to calm his frantically beating heart and suppress the urge to scream at the hopeless feeling in his heart. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he simply had no choice.

His every step was sending flashes of pain throughout your body. Merle saw the pain settle in your facial features. You were on the edge. The pain was so unbearable that you were afraid to lose consciousness at any second. The man’s hands pressed your body to his chest more and more, and he never stopped whispering. At some point, one his careless movement made you cry out from the renewed pain, and you had to press your face into his shoulder to at least somehow muffle your cry. There were still walkers in the building, and by the way Merle quickened his pace, you realized that some of them got too close. The two of you were vulnerable now. And Merle wouldn’t be able to shoot unless… Unless he dropped you to the ground.

“Merle,” you pleaded quietly, looking behind him. “Get out, I-I’m… I’m slowing you down.”

Another low growl was his answer. He stopped for a second but only to have a better hold of you. “Ain’t happening.”

When he finally made it back to the car, your body felt too numb and too small in his arms. Your eyes were closed.

“Shit, girl, come on now. Open yer eyes, sugar.”

Merle carefully laid you on the back seats, starting the car, looking behind every once in a while. He hated that though but damn if he was glad that you’d passed out. The ride back home was rough and he tried his best not to go too fast so you wouldn’t fall from the seat but at the same time trying to get the two of you back to the prison as soon as possible.

The onset of the storm only worsened the situation. Behind the impenetrable darkness of the road, Merle can hardly see the holes. The probability of flying into a ditch was too great. The downpour began, mercilessly eroding gravel; small rubble flew into the windshield. Merle, no matter how much he was afraid for your life, was glad that you hadn’t seen this whole nightmare.

He only made it back hours later, and you still hadn’t opened your eyes. Merle was standing in the yard when Rick and Daryl took your pale, almost lifeless body from him. The rain was mercilessly beating in his face, but he didn’t care. He heard his brother calling him in but his voice seemed too distant. Strong gusts of wind carried raindrops in his eyes, and his clothes were wet to the skin. But then again, not that he cared. He was still standing; his eyes fixed in the dark sky above his head, and in his head was your voice, again and again, the voice full of pain and despair. His hands were covered in blood, and for some reason, the realization that this same blood was on your body hit him in the chest.

Merle closed his eyes, letting the heavy raindrops wash away all the anxiety and dull pain under his ribs. And a thunderstorm lit the western part of the sky.

*** You walked down the stairs leading outside the building, breathing in the frosty air. The prison yard was covered with a thin layer of snow that was glistering in the sunset light. Rainy days changed to cool late-autumn days, the weather finally giving in.

You shivered under the blow of wind creeping under your sweater and readjusted the tight bandages under your chest. You looked about, sneaking from the stairs, heading to the lonely figure at the fence.

“Whatcha doin’ here, Bunny? You’s gonna catch a cold.”

Merle must have heard you by the snow crunching under your boots. He turned to meet you with a deep frown. You smiled uncertainly in response, leaning on the nearest wall to ease the pulling feeling in your tailbone. Herschel performed a real medical miracle, practically pulling you out of the other world. The impact of falling onto the concrete was too strong. You were incredibly lucky to stay not only alive but also with normally functioning limbs. Damaged caused by such a fall could not only lead to numerous fractures, but also paralysis.

“I won’t. Just needed some air,” you murmured, breathing in the fresh air.

“Hershel’s been keeping me locked inside for over a month now, I’m getting sick of those walls.”

The man’s eyes remained just as cold as he turned away from you, looking into the distance.

“Ya catch a draft and that back of yours ain’t gonna heal.”

Merle turned his back on you. There was something in his pose that made you nervous. For over a month, he was cold to you, getting away by a few words and grunts, which made him look a lot like Daryl. But if the latter spent more and more time with you while you were literally bedridden, talking about hunting and supply runs into the city, then Merle limited himself to visiting you in the morning, asking about your well-being and disappearing for the rest of the day. The rest of the group soon helped you to catch up to what was going on by telling that the elder Dixon was not his own self when he had returned with your body in his arms. He shut off. His ocean eyes suddenly turned gray and dull, as if on that fateful day for you a piece of himself died. There was an emptiness, devouring him from the inside

“Hershel said I’ll be able to get to work in less than two weeks,” you said out loud, hoping that Merle would hear you.

Before you managed to somehow react, the man was there. His hard eyes met yours, and perhaps for the first time in all the time you had known each other, you saw cruelty in them. Cruelty and pain.

“Like hell you are!” he snapped, leaning closer, making you gasp. “Ya ain’t doing shit without me!”

You quietly called his name, but Merle didn’t seem to hear you. He seemed to be in some kind of trance, almost in a comatose state. He jerked back violently when your palm fell on his chest, pressing gently where his heart was beating. His eyes softened a little, and Merle dropped his head helplessly on your shoulder. His hands clung to the wall behind you, and for a second it seemed that you could distinctly hear the thud of a blow when his fists connected with the surface.

“Gotta take care of ma woman,” he mumbled.

“Is that what I am?” you asked softly, pressing him tightly into you, looking in front of you.

“Huh?”

“Your woman?”

Merle moved away, shifting awkwardly, looking away. You saw him biting his lip hard, looking away before he finally looked back at you. He lifted your chin with his index finger and cupped you face, watching you nuzzle into his touch.

“Listen, sugar. I know I ain’t a good man fer… Don’t –“ He cut you off when you tried to protest. “ – Listen. I know I ain’t a man ya deserve. Shit, girl. Ya’ve been putting up with our crap longer than I dare to remember and I ain’t never thanked ya. I’s no good fer ya, never been. But I know I’m better with ya around. Ya make me a better man. ‘s what they say, ya know…” he trailed off, looking away. “And I… I can’t promise ya nothing, sweetheart, but I wanna try to be a better man fer ya. If ya let me…”

He watched your eyes fix on him, before you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his and closed your eyes.

“Dixon…”

He didn’t dare to move closer, feeling himself go numb. Merle closed his eyes, breathing in slowly, letting the heat radiating from your body engulf him. All the anxiety penned up for the past month finally found its way out as he let himself be absolutely honest and vulnerable in front of you.

“Had I known that shit would make you open up, would have gone missing sooner.” You soft chuckle actually made the man in front of you blush.

“Ya know it better, sugar,” he mumbled. ”Ain’t good with ‘em words.”

“Words are for children, Merle.” You moved away, looking into his eyes for the last time, before turning and heading back to the prison. He followed you with a worried look, not knowing how to read your reaction.

“You gonna stay there and freeze your ass off? Come on, Dixon, take my hand,” you snorted at him.

A stupid smile crept across his face as he stared at the hand you held out to him. Well, now, he definitely was going to try harder. He’d just got a reason to.

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[crossbowking]

The Road Ahead : Chapter 19

Chapter Index HERE

Summary : (Set in the beginning of season 1) Anna Brooks lost everything after the world ended — the last remaining part of herself being her older brother, who she lost contact with after communications dropped. While en route towards Atlanta to find him, Anna’s truck breaks down, leaving her at the mercy of the cruel new world. Now, Anna must face her fears head on as she struggles to deal with devastating loss, constant danger, and finding her way in a land that now belongs to the dead. But sometimes, a glimmer of hope can be found disguised as a short-tempered, hard-headed redneck who may just save her life in more ways than one.

Pairings : Daryl x Original Female Character

Warnings : Slow-Burn, Language/Violence/typical Walking Dead themes

Author’s Note : This chapter is a continuation of Daryl’s POV -- picking up from where we left off. We’re about to get a flashback of what happened the night previous at the CDC, after Daryl and Anna’s fight!

Thank you for all the love surrounding this story -- it really pushes me to continue, so thank you! I appreciate you all.

NOW, LET’S GET TO IT.

xx crossbowking

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Previously…

He was hoping Rick would pull the RV over sooner rather than later for the group to reconvene, giving him a chance to escape the small confines of the car and the inevitable tension when Anna finally woke up. She’d tried to talk to him about what happened between them back at the CDC, but it hadn’t been the right time — it never seemed to be the right time.

So he’d brushed her off — but not for the reasons she probably thought.

As memories from the night before swarmed his vision, something suddenly made itself startlingly clear. The truth was, she’d been right — he had given up on his brother.

But not her — he hadn’t given up on her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now…

Daryl slammed the door shut to Anna’s room, the walls shaking from the force of it.

But no matter the anger coursing through him, he just couldn’t seem to find the will to move from the spot in the hallway he’d suddenly rooted himself in. With his hand still tightly gripped around the doorknob, breath coming out in steady huffs, warmth shooting through his limbs, he tried to process just where the hell things had gone so wrong.

Daryl closed his eyes, the fury and hurt marring Anna’s features flashing through his mind as she’d fought against his certainty that Fort Benning was gone. Why couldn’t she understand that he was just trying to help? That he was just trying to talk some sense into her? She was so dead set on Fort Benning, on the idea that her brother had somehow successfully made the hundred-mile trek to the army base and was waiting there for her with fucking roses or something — was she fucking delusional? Did she have some kind of god damn death wish?

Daryl’s eyes shot open. What did he care for anyways? It had nothing to do with him. And he wasn’t going to just sit around and take the brunt of Anna’s projected issues. There was enough shit going on with the current state of the world — the last thing he needed was this sort of unnecessary drama.

With a decision made, Daryl scoffed and shoved away from the door, feeling a fresh wave of frustration wash over him. He marched down the hall, heading away from Anna’s room and back towards his own. She could do whatever the hell she wanted — she could go to Fort Benning, she could leave the group, she could join the fucking circus if she wanted to. It wasn’t his problem. 

If she wanted to go on some kind of kamikaze-suicide-mission…fine. That wasn’t his problem. She wasn’t his fucking problem.

But the moment Daryl reached his door, hand outstretched towards the doorknob, he paused, glancing back down the hall towards Anna’s room for a moment before looking down at the doorknob, inches away from his fingertips. All he had to do was reach forward — that was it. Just reach forward. Twist. Push. Open. And go inside. That was it.

So why was he suddenly turning away from his room and walking back towards Anna’s?

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Daryl clenched his jaw, hands balled into fists as he stalked back down the hallway. He wasn’t exactly sure why, wasn’t exactly sure what his intent was, but it was as though his body had a mind of its own, carrying him down the hallway despite his mind’s protests. He made it halfway down the hall before he halted, forcing his feet to remain rooted as he stared at Anna’s door just a couple of feet away.

What exactly was the plan here? To burst into her room? To tell her off? To tell her to mind her own fucking business?

No…no, that didn’t feel right.

So Daryl pivoted, marching back down the hall towards his own room instead.

But he only made it a couple feet before he suddenly froze once more, a frustrated growl escaping his lips.

No, he had to see her — he had to tell her off, he had to tell her she was wrong, he had to make sure she was alright and —

No, damn it. No, that wasn’t right. He didn’t care whether she was alright or not. He shouldn’t care. He wasn’t supposed to care. That wasn’t part of the deal here.

But before Daryl could stop himself, there he was, turning on his heels and storming back towards Anna’s room once more. It felt as though his insides were being yanked apart, like two different parts of him were duking it out for control. Part of him wanted to unleash the anger bubbling inside him. But another part of him, a quiet, simmering part of him that he hadn’t realized was there, genuinely wanted to mend things with the girl on the opposite side of the door.

But why?

Daryl stopped outside Anna’s room, hand outreached towards the doorknob, but quickly froze. He dropped his hand to his side, glancing up and down the hall warily, before he leaned forward and pressed an ear against the door, holding his breath.

The room was silent. No quiet shuffling or faint footsteps. Just silence.

Daryl sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he pulled away from the door.

He needed to get a fucking grip.

The archer scoffed beneath his breath, deciding to head back to his room once and for all, chastising himself for allowing this complete stranger to have such an effect on him. But he only took a single step forward before he was pausing yet again. It was as though something was pulling him back, forcing him to remain rooted where he was.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

He just…he just couldn’t leave her. He couldn’t do it. No matter how badly he wanted to shut down, to find calm within his own space, he just couldn’t leave Anna Brooks alone, by herself, defenseless — especially after what just happened with Shane.

“Damn it,” he growled, feeling torn yet again. He thanked whatever higher power was out there that no one was witnessing his distress — the people in this group were too damn nosey. They wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t understand. Hell, he didn’t even understand himself.

He couldn’t go back to his room. But he also didn't want to go back into Anna’s. He was at a complete and utter loss.

So instead, he suddenly found himself sliding to the ground, making himself comfortable propped up against Anna’s door.

Daryl could practically hear Merle’s snarking voice in the back of his head, chiding him, telling him he was ‘weak’, telling him he was ‘fuckin’ pathetic’. And maybe he was right. Maybe he was pathetic. Maybe he was weak. But above all that, the thing he was most was loyal. And he’d promised Anna that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her — that he’d keep Shane away from her in case the man decided to try anything else.

And that feeling, that innate need to protect, overrode any other feelings of self-loathing sneaking in.

Daryl sighed, resting his head against the door, propping his elbows on top of his knees as his fingers drummed back and forth over the cloth of his jeans.

He wouldn’t stay there all night — just until he was sure everyone had turned in for the night…until he was sure that Shane had turned in for the night. He hadn’t seen the man since their altercation in the hallway — but he could practically feel his blood begin to boil at merely the thought of what he’d walked into.

Daryl had wanted to kill Shane — wanted to end his pathetic life right then and there. The man was bad news, plain and simple, and he knew for a fact that it was only a matter of time before shit got worse — before the man became even more unhinged. This time, Daryl had been there to stop him — but what if next time he wasn’t?

The archer squeezed his eyes shut, shaking the disturbing images from his mind. That was the only reason he was doing this — sitting outside Anna’s door like some sort of makeshift guard dog. He’d promised her he’d keep her safe. And that was the only reason he was doing this.

Right?

Daryl groaned softly, his eyes snapping open as he rubbed a hand through his cropped hair, fighting off the tiredness seeping through his bones, the alcohol running through his veins. He gnawed at the side of his thumb absently, his body feeling heavier and heavier with each moment that passed.

Anna’s words suddenly spun through his mind — ‘Just because you gave up on your brother, doesn’t mean I’m giving up on mine.’

Who the hell did she think she was? Going around and talking shit about shit she didn’t know anything about. Daryl scoffed, grinding his teeth together, yanking the corner of his thumb from his mouth and resting it atop his knee instead.

He didn’t give up on his brother — Merle’s dumb ass upped and took off. There wasn’t shit he could do about it now. Was he supposed to go on some wild goose chase like Anna was? Searching for a needle in a god damn haystack? He wouldn’t even know where to start — if his brother was even still alive, for that matter.

Anna didn’t know shit. She didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about.

And yet.

Maybe he had. Maybe he had done exactly as she’d said — maybe he’d ‘given up on Merle’. Maybe that was why he couldn’t shake Anna’s hurled words from his core. Maybe that was why he couldn’t quiet the nagging thoughts churning in his mind.

Because maybe accepting Merle’s fate, his loss, maybe accepting that he’d never see his brother again was simply something Daryl had found easier to live with than he’d expected.

Daryl huffed a breath, quickly shaking the thoughts from his mind, running a hand roughly through his cropped hair. He shook his head absently, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the solid door behind him.

No. Merle was blood. Merle was his blood. His family. And if you didn’t have family, you didn’t have shit.

Right?

Daryl suddenly jolted awake, his eyes snapping open.

He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep, right in the midst of his spinning thoughts, right there outside Anna's door. He squinted slightly, his pupils adjusting to the fluorescent lighting down the hall as he sighed, rubbing a hand over his weary face.

That was the moment he felt another set of eyes land on him.

His gaze jerked upward, his hand immediately moving to hover over the knife strapped on his belt as his eyes fell on Shane standing just down the hall. He was staring down at Daryl, his expression so smug the archer fought back the urge to hurl his knife down the hall.

Neither one of them spoke — merely staring each other down as Daryl tensed his body, ready to jump to his feet if the man took a single step towards him while Shane swayed slightly, his red-rimmed eyes giving his inebriation away.

Daryl narrowed his eyes challengingly, as if daring Shane to try something, to give him an excuse to unleash some of that pent up anger brewing. But Shane merely scoffed, shaking his head as he fumbled for the doorknob beside him before he stumbled away, disappearing into his room and slamming the door behind him, leaving Daryl alone once more.

Daryl let go of the breath he’d been holding, his body going slack as he ran a hand through his cropped hair. He had no idea what time it was, there were no windows, no clocks — and they were underground, that thought alone making the archer feel all sorts of discomfort. He quickly pulled himself to his feet, stretching out the crick in his neck caused from the uncomfortable position he’d been sleeping in.

He hesitated for a moment, holding his breath as he rested the side of his head against Anna’s door, listening for movement. He thanked whatever God was out there that she hadn’t woken up or randomly decided to leave her room — that would’ve been awkward.

Daryl sighed softly, pushing away from the door. He heard the quiet murmur of voices coming from the door opposite of Anna’s, no doubt some of the group finally waking, and quickly hurried back down the hall. He wasn’t worried about Anna’s safety anymore — the group would be milling from their rooms soon and Shane wouldn’t dare try anything if he knew there would be witnesses. 

He was just that type of man.

Daryl cracked open the door to his room and slipped inside, shooting one last dark look at Shane’s across the hall before closing the door quietly. Once inside, the archer exhaled heavily, feeling the fight leave his body. He brought his hand up towards his mouth, gnawing on the side of his thumb as he paced slowly back and forth, his thoughts churning once more.

That was it.

That was the last time he’d get involved with Anna Brooks. She could take care of herself from now on — she wasn’t his responsibility, damn it. She was a grown woman who could deal with her own issues, her own consequences.

He had other shit to worry about.

Like the end of the fucking world, for instance.

But still, no matter how many times he went over it in his head, no matter how determined he was to keep his distance from the girl down the hall, a tiny, nearly imperceptible part of him knew that deep down, he wouldn’t be able to stay away from her for long.

Anna whimpered from beside Daryl once more, snapping him from his thoughts.

His eyes flashed back and forth between her and the road, his entire body going rigid as she shifted slowly in her seat, face scrunched up slightly as she finally began to stir. Daryl fought off the sudden internal panic that twisted his insides, his grip around the steering wheel tightening.

And then, she was up.

Daryl watched her from the corner of his eye — the way she jolted upright, her breathing slightly labored, her hand automatically reaching to clasp onto the chain laced around her neck. She seemed disoriented, like she wasn’t sure exactly she where she was or how she’d gotten there to begin with.

And then, she saw him.

Anna nearly did a double take when she first laid eyes on him — Daryl wasn’t sure why. Her gaze only hesitated on him for a moment before she was facing forward, stiff as a board, leaning as far away from him as the truck would possibly allow.

The space between them was still. The quiet that stretched between them was enough to stand Daryl’s nerves on end, his palms inexplicably sweaty all of the sudden.

Say somethin’. Say anythin’, damn it, a voice in the archer’s head growled. But for the life of him, he couldn’t think to say a single thing.

He snuck a glance at Anna — she still looked confused, bewildered almost, as she stared out the front windshield, her hand still twisting around the necklace she wore. She must’ve felt Daryl’s gaze because she suddenly glanced over at him, their eyes locking for a brief moment before she turned to face forward once more — that was when Daryl noticed the sudden redness creep across her cheeks.

He promptly rolled down the passenger’s side window.

The Georgian heat must’ve gotten to her.

Anna suddenly sat up straighter, searching the area around her somewhat frantically, feeling beneath the seat, her brow knitted tight. Daryl sighed, grunting as he stretched to reach into the backseat, keeping his eyes on the road as he pulled out her backpack and placed it between them on the front seat.

He could feel Anna’s gaze burning a hole into the side of his face before she slowly picked up her backpack and held it to her chest, a shaky breath slipping through her lips. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick from being unused, the words barely above a whisper.

Daryl clenched his jaw. Say somethin’. She’s waitin’ for an answer, ya stupid asshole.

“Ya almost got yourself killed,” the words spilled through his lips much more harshly than he intended them to.

Anna flinched.

Way ta’ go.

“For a backpack,” he clarified, softening his tone, giving her a look.

Anna sighed as she began examining the backpack, unzipping each pocket carefully. “I didn’t go back for the backpack,” she murmured quietly, absently gnawing on her bottom lip. “I went back for these,” she finally confessed, pulling out two objects from the side pocket of her pack.

Daryl immediately knew what it was she was holding — the letter from her brother, as well as the photograph of the two of them. He felt some of the anger trapped in his chest dissipate.

“I know it was stupid,” Anna continued, smoothing out the wrinkled edges of the papers. “But it’s all I have left of him,” she mumbled, tucking a stray strand of hair blown out of place by the wind behind her ear.

Daryl detected the slight tremble in her voice but didn’t mention it. He simply nodded. “I get it,” he rumbled, training his eyes ahead.

And he did.

Once again, the archer sensed Anna’s gaze on him, boring into the side of his face — but he merely clenched his jaw, feeling the tips of his ears flush as he nestled the side of his thumb between his teeth.

Another long silence stretched between Daryl and Anna as miles of pavement passed beneath them, the caravan of vehicles steadfast in their journey ahead. The archer snuck a glance at the girl beside him when he knew she wasn’t looking — she had her face turned towards the open window, eyes closed, a rare, fleeting moment of peace settling over her expression as the sun soaked through her skin.

But then Daryl felt the energy around him shift as Anna opened her eyes and lowered her head, her fingers twisting around each other in her lap. She sighed softly as if attempting to steel herself for what was to come — although Daryl was fairly certain he already knew what she was about to say before her lips parted.

“So, about last night,” she exhaled quietly before clearing her throat and straightening in her seat. “Look, I — I completely overstepped my boundaries,” she continued, gaining a little courage as she turned to face him. “I was just — shit, I don’t know. I was just upset and I took it out on you because — because shit, I don’t even know why,” she huffed, frustration marring her features as she ran a hand through her hair. “And even after everything you did for me — after everything with Shane — and I just — I just,“ Anna groaned softly, covering part of her face with one of her hands. “God, I’m just such an asshole.”

Daryl stilled — unsure what to say, unsure how to feel, unsure what to do to calm Anna’s crumpling features.

He quickly cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he shot the girl beside him a quick glance. “Hey,” he rumbled, Anna’s eyes locking with his, her expression troubled. Daryl cleared his throat once more. “We’re good.”

Anna’s brow furrowed, her mouth turning down into a slight frown. “But —“ she paused, the rest of her sentence rushing past her lips as one big breath instead. She took another breath, shooting Daryl a helpless look. “But —“

“Hey,” Daryl cut her off, giving her a short nod. “We’re good, alright? Got other shit ta’ be worryin’ about, ya know?” he murmured, turning to stare ahead once more. “So, we’re good.”

Daryl felt Anna deflate beside him as she leaned back against the passenger seat, her gaze swiveling to observe the passing scenery instead. He peeked over at her, his hand tightening around the steering wheel as his words hung in the air.

He’d meant to comfort her — to assure her that the two of them were, in fact, okay. But somehow, even when he was trying to help, to bring her some peace, he merely came across as brash. As angry. As cold.

“Do you miss him?”

Daryl stilled. The words that came from Anna’s lips were quiet, barely above a whisper, hard to hear over the wind spilling through the truck’s open windows. But he’d heard them. He'd heard them just as deafening as if she’d screamed them at him.

She wasn’t looking at him. She still had her eyes trained towards the outdoors, towards the masses of trees flying by — but he knew by the way she held her breath that she was waiting for a response.

Daryl ground his teeth together, his body suddenly going rigid with tension at the thought of Merle. He knew that’s what Anna was talking about — she didn’t even have to say his name, he knew just by the way she’d said ‘him’.

And Daryl really didn’t want to talk about his brother — especially with her.

So instead, he shrugged a shoulder up and grumbled something unintelligible under his breath — that was the best he could do.

Anna nodded slowly, probably having expected that sort of response and turned her eyes downward to stare at her clasped hands. “I miss Ben,” she suddenly spoke, picking at her thumbnail absently. “We were all each other had growing up. And he, uh — he always knew what to do, you know?” she mused, sighing softly. “I don't know — maybe this shit wouldn’t suck so much if he were still around.”

Daryl listened quietly, mulling over her words before he shot her a look from the corner of his eye. “Think so?” he grunted under his breath.

Anna glanced over at him, the corner of her mouth rising into a small smirk as she shrugged, sighing softly. “No, it’d probably still suck,” she resolved, absently running her fingertips over the glossy photograph still in her grasp. “But maybe just a tiny bit less.”

Daryl grunted once more, resting his hand outside the open window, his fingertips drumming back and forth over the dented metal door. “Merle wasn’t ‘round much,” he murmured. He wasn’t sure where the sudden confession came from — but for the life of him, he couldn’t stop himself from continuing. “He was always runnin’ off or gettin’ sent away — jus’ causin’ all kinds a’ trouble, ya know?” he scoffed lightly, glancing over at Anna who was carefully watching him, her eyes alight with something he couldn’t quite place. Daryl quickly cleared his throat. “Kinda hard ta’ miss someone who was never really there ta’ begin with,” he finished gruffly, his grip tightening around the steering wheel.

Anna was silent for a long moment after that — the quiet that stretched on gnawed at Daryl’s insides, sending his heart thrumming just a fraction faster. And in that moment, he regretted speaking up — he regretted sharing that incredibly personal part of himself to this complete stranger beside him.

Stupid prick. Ya ain’t got nothin’ that nobody wants ta’ hear anyways. Ya ain’t nothin’ but —

“I’m sorry about your brother.”

Anna’s words were so quiet, Daryl almost missed them.

He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, his gaze locking with Anna’s for a moment — the kindness, the compassion in her eyes shooting a sudden warmth through his veins. “An’ I’m sorry ‘bout yours,” he rumbled, his voice deep and gravely in his chest.

They held each other’s gazes a moment longer before Daryl turned away, just as the blinker of the RV flipped on and the caravan began to pull off to the side of the road. The archer followed suit, easing the pickup to a slow stop before shutting off the truck.

As members of the group began to filter out of their vehicles, Daryl and Anna remained side by side in silence, each trapped in their own thoughts. It wasn’t until Rick hopped out of the RV, sending the two of them a small wave to join the group, that Daryl finally broke out of his reverie.

He slid out of the truck, turning to grab his crossbow from the backseat before slamming the door shut. When he noticed Anna’s stillness, not having moved from the passenger seat yet, her eyes far away as she stared at the dashboard, he paused, resting his forearms against the open window on the driver’s side. “Ya alright?” he murmured, snapping Anna out of her thoughts.

She nodded slowly, slipping her backpack over her shoulders, Ben’s note and photograph still clasped in her hands. “I’m here,” she reassured him quietly, taking a breath before she pushed open her door and hopped out.

Daryl’s brow furrowed at her response, but he pushed away the concern he felt as he made his way towards the rest of the group.

Several people approached Anna, clearly worried since they hadn’t been able to check up on her since the CDC — Lori wrapped her arms around Anna’s frame, giving her a quick hug as Rick squeezed her shoulder, making sure she was alright. Glenn made his way to her side, nudging her gently in the ribs, murmuring something to her — Daryl couldn’t make out what he said and he wasn’t sure why that bothered him.

“Alright,” Rick’s voice suddenly rose, snapping the archer out of his thoughts, his gaze tearing away from Anna.

The rest of the group settled, all eyes falling on the sheriff, the overall morale of the group feeling incredibly low. Rick took a moment to look at each and every member of the group before he took a breath.

“I know everyone’s gotta be wonderin’ where we go from here,” he began, his expression torn. Most group members nodded in response, other murmured under their breaths. “We thought the CDC was it — I thought it was it. I thought that’s where we’d find the answer’s we’ve been lookin’ for. But we were wrong,” he continued, looking as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. And then he glanced at Carl, tucked into Lori’s side, and some of that weight faded into determination. “But we can’t give up — not now, not ever,” he persisted fiercely, giving Lori an encouraging nod.

“An’ where’re we supposed ta’ go, huh?” Shane called out, standing a couple people over from Daryl — and the archer felt a swell of anger course through him. “If the god damn CDC didn’t make it, how’re we ta’ know that everywhere else hasn’t gone ta’ shit too?”

“Shane,” Lori chastised sharply, shooting him a dark look as she pulled Carl closer to her side.

“I’m sorry, but someone’s gotta say it,” Shane shrugged nonchalantly, roughly rubbing a hand through his hair. “Where’re we supposed ta’ go from here, Rick?” he directed the question solely at the sheriff, looking at him pointedly.

Rick was quiet for a moment, resting his hand on his hip, his eyes cast downward, deep in thought. But then his gaze rose and fell on Anna — they seemed to have some sort of silent conversation before Anna shrugged one shoulder up, Rick nodding soon after before he leveled Shane’s stare. “Fort Benning.”

Collective hushed and panicked conversation broke out amongst the group before Rick began working to reign everyone in. Daryl remained silent, leaning against the front of his pickup truck, simply observing the chaos unfolding.

“Alright, now listen, I know some of y’all are worried but —”

“Fort Benning is on the other side of Georgia, Rick! You can’t expect us to —“

“— with what supplies? We lost everything —”

“— unbelievable. We should’ve just stayed at the quarry and —”

“Listen, jus’ listen for a minute —”

“M-Mom —”

“— end up just like Jacqui. Like Amy. We should’ve —”

A sharp whistle sounded, silencing the growing uproar amongst the group, their gazes swiveling in Dale’s direction — he stood on the steps of the RV, rifle in hand, expression bewildered before he quickly marched to Rick’s side. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing right now,” he scolded in disbelief, surveying the group, disappointment marring his features. “Look,” he huffed, moving to stand in the center of the circle that’d been formed. “If anyone else here thinks they have what it takes to lead this group, then by all means —“ he held his hands out in front of him as if daring someone to step forward.

When no one moved, Dale scoffed knowingly, stepping back to stand beside Rick once more, nodding for the sheriff to continue.

Rick shot Dale a grateful look before he straightened up, taking a breath and facing the group once more. “We can’t give up now. There is salvation out there — I have ta’ believe that. Fort Benning is a risk, but it’s a risk we have ta’ take. We’ll find somewhere ta’ hole up in for tonight and then tomorrow, we’ll scavenge — siphon gas, find supplies, see what we can scrounge up around here. Gather enough ta’ get us ta’ that army base and then —” he paused, locking eyes with Lori. “— and then we’ll go from there.”

The group was silent, mulling over Rick’s words. Daryl crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the front bumper of his pickup, his gaze finding its way back to Anna.

She was quiet, brow pensive as if deep in thought, fingers looped around the straps of her backpack. He wondered what she was thinking about in that moment.

“Let’s get a move on before dark, alright?” Shane suddenly spoke, clapping his hands together once. “We’ll discuss our next move further once we find ourselves somewhere ta’ spend the night,” he added before turning around and making his way back to his Jeep without another word. Daryl watched the way Rick’s gaze followed his old partner, his expression unreadable.

The rest of the group began to slowly filter back to their cars. Daryl pushed off his pickup, adjusting the strap of his crossbow as he rounded the front of his vehicle, heading back to the driver’s side. He couldn’t help but look back as he yanked open his door — and there he spotted Anna.

Lori and Carol were standing in front of her, examining a few of the minor cuts and bruises on her elbows and knees, the ones she’d acquired from her narrow escape. He couldn’t hear what they were saying from where he stood, but a moment later, Carol was ushering her forward and Lori was grasping Anna’s hand, gently pulling her towards the RV.

But right before Anna disappeared inside the RV, her eyes found Daryl’s. And then she was gone, the door to the RV closing behind her.

The archer remained rooted where he was for a moment longer until an uproar of vehicles turning over filled the air, snapping him out of his reverie. He heaved a breath, slipping his crossbow off his shoulder as he hopped back into his truck and started it up.

But as he pulled onto the main road, falling back in line amongst the caravan of vehicles, he tried not to think about the sudden emptiness filling the space beside him.

He tried not to think about her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N : Thoughts?

QUESTION OF THE WEEK: How do you think this supply run will go? I have a feeling things won’t be ending well...

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