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xwritingdixonx · 6 months

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To Rot With You | Daryl Dixon |

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Masterlist

Summary: The reader and Daryl take a stroll through the forests, contemplating what it truly means to die. And to do it together. (Purely written based on the Hozier song, In A Week.)

Warnings: mention of death, no use of y/n (yay)

Word Count: aprox. 1.5k

Era: hinted at Alexandria, established relationship

Song Recommendations: In a Week - Hozier

A/n: This is pretty simple and short but hopefully still enjoyable!

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The morning air was fresh, chilly, and slightly damp from the rain that fell throughout the night.

The morning was early. It is too early for any creature to crawl from its sleep and begin withering its way around the forest. Or perhaps it was too wet for any creature to begin their everyday lives, still hiding in the safety and warmth of their enclosures. Or perhaps they were bathing in the fuller ponds and slurping from puddles. Or maybe, they were like you. Drudging through the forest in search of their first meal, the pads of their feet slick with mud.

The moist soil squelched beneath your steps. Wet bits of green grass stuck themselves to the textures of your boots. A layer of mud painted itself to the sole of your shoe, lodging itself into whatever print had been carved there.

Though you didn't own a calendar and probably would never again, you could feel it in the air that Winter was ending and Spring was blossoming. The mornings were still chilly but always sunny, the warmth coming in the later hours of the day. And the rain was frequent but it did not bother you. It softened the frozen ground and plumped the trees and flowers so they could grow full of life and beauty. It provided drinking water and filled the natural water resources with even more water.

Daryl, however, was always bothered. He complained about not having seen a rabbit or a deer on your morning hunt. You poked at him and told him they were still resting like you should be. He complained when he slipped in the mud. And he complained even more when he saw a fox saying, that's the reason we ain't finding no rabbits not because they're gettin' some extra shut-eye.

But he never complained about you. Not a word slipped his lips when you distracted him by holding his hand or standing too close. What was wrong about enjoying the presence of your partner? He had woken you up so early to drag you along, he might as well enjoy you.

When it came time to rest, you set up just on the treeline of a wide field. Wild with uncut grass, weeds, and flowers. The both of you sat on a fallen tree, attempting to avoid the wet ground that would surely ruin your clothes. Daryl had particularly picked this spot to keep an eye on anything wandering into the field for a nibble at the grass.

The sounds of the woods fell upon your ears as silence settled. A slight wind disturbed the greenery. Bending the tall grass, making it dance with the wildflowers. It moved the freshly grown leaves on the branches of the trees, flowing around like hair in the wind. The birds chirped their morning songs and the squirrels scattered from one tree to the next. You liked to joke and say they were hiding from Daryl. And truthfully, you couldn't blame them. You also had no desire to be shot with an arrow, skinned, and then thrown on a grill or tossed into a soup.

"Ya alright?" Daryl broke you from your daydreams, his voice gentle and smooth. You turned to catch his gaze, replying with a gentle, “Yeah.” Followed by a reassuring smile. His hand reached for yours, pulling it to rest in his own. You were already at peace in the sounds and scenes of nature but his touch calmed you in places you didn't even know were tense. Every moment you were able to bask in the love you felt for him, you cherished.

Waking up beside him, falling asleep beside him, showering with him. There was nothing you wanted to do without him by your side. And that included death. You had thought about it...many times. How could you not in a world like this? Death was always right around the corner; peeking, creeping, and waiting. You and Daryl had had your fair share of scares over the years and those thoughts haunted your mind every time. How could you go on without him? How could you fight every day if the thing you're fighting to go home to, is no longer there?

Daryl had the same gloomy thoughts. Losing you was, as clique as it sounds, his worst nightmare. He ran from the thoughts as much as his legs would let him but eventually his legs wore out and it caught up to him in the worst of times. When you got hurt, even the smallest scratch sent him tumbling down. He’d grasp onto you, repeating the same words again and again; Are ya okay? Can I do anythin’? M’sorry. But the gloomiest time came at night after you'd fallen asleep, leaving him alone to succumb to the dreading feeling that was always chasing him. He’d lay beside you, watching your gentle features finally be at ease and always making sure your chest rose and fell with gentle breaths.

“We should just stay here.” You didn’t turn to look at Daryl when you spoke but he looked at you, admiring your silhouette as you looked off. “What do ya mean?” Daryl answered. He wasn’t entirely sure if you were actually talking to him or if the thoughts in your mind were just slipping from your lips. “We come to sit here all the time and no matter the weather, it’s always just…” Your words trailed off as your mind searched for the word to describe the scene before you.

“Perfect?”

An airy laugh came from your chest at Daryl’s word choice. You turned to him then. With your hand still in his, you brought it to your lips and planted a kiss. Almost as a way to say, thank you for the effort. “Comforting. But yes, also perfect.” In your mind it was warmth when it was cold, it was a breath of fresh air in a world of rotting corpses, it was the hope of a future in a world of early death. But he was right…in simple words it was perfect.

“We can build a little house-”

“We?”

With only one word his tone was thick with sarcastic disbelief. You playfully rolled your eyes and gave his hand a squeeze. With your free hand, you pointed to a random spot in the clearing as you rephrased your previous sentence. “You could build me a little house right there.” Daryl liked the sound of that better. A house he was to build, with his hands, just for you to live in. “We’ll fill it with all our things, steal some furniture from home, and scavenge the rest…We can build a fence around so we’re safe.” Your words were a daydreamy gleam and you were far from finished. “We’ll light fires in the Winter to stay warm and open the windows in Spring…” This was obviously a daydream you had put quite a bit of thought into, one you’d laid up at night pondering about, and Daryl would not rob himself of the indulgence of your words.

"I'll start a garden and you’ll hunt. We’ll always have full tummies,” You looked away from the sky to meet his equally blue eyes, “And even fuller hearts.” Your gentle smile rested upon your face and your eyes were filled with the longing of a home that only existed in your whimsical daydreams. Though it did not exist and there was a possibility it never would, Daryl felt himself melting into this world of what-ifs. Daryl had never associated the words home and love together before. But…what if it could exist? What if he could build a home. A home just for him. A home of comfort…a home where he could just simply love and not be afraid.

“W’bout everyone back home?” He questioned, “They’ll never find us.” You responded quickly. Daryl shook his head and scoffed, “Nah, they’d find us in less than a week.” Daryl’s ears perked up at the sound of your soft laughter. “Yeah, yeah they would.” Daryl’s eyes never left you, even when you turned your head to look around the wooded area. He could practically see the way you were editing your story. “Fine, we’ll uh-” Motioning behind you, you continued, “We’ll clear a path through the woods all the way to the road. So they can always come visit.”

Then, as you looked at him, the dread crept upon you. Wrapping its clawed mangled hands around your perfect bubble. “And when we go…we’ll go together.” This caught Daryl by surprise. The fate he so deeply feared was no longer chasing him. It was sitting on that tree with him…and in the form of the words that came from your tongue. “C’mom..don’t talk ‘bout that.” He tried to defer but you would not let him. Whether you went from a bite, from a bullet, from a freak accident, or if you were lucky enough to go naturally, it was and always will be the inevitable truth of fate. “Once we’ve lived in our home long enough and full of love, we can lay in the grass and go.”

Everyone went back to the earth anyway, right? You had no desire to be thrown in a hole and covered in damp cold dirt. If you had to decay, you wanted to be on the soft grass, under the sun, even under the rain. You wanted the wildflowers to eventually grow through the cracks of your skeleton, just as you had seen done with other animal carcasses. You’d let the bugs find shelter in your bones and you’d let the foxes nibble at you. Maybe it would stop them from eating all of Daryl’s rabbits.

“I mean it…I don’t wanna go alone. Never mind how it takes me, I just wanna go with you.” The hope that your eyes once shined was now overshadowed by the tears that formed in your waterline. Daryl swallowed the lump that formed in the back of his throat. “C’mere.” He opened his arms to you, providing you the comfort you desperately needed.

Now with your rambling seemingly done and your body against his, Daryl thought.

“Alright.” Was all he said. Though it wasn’t a typical alright, it was serious. You pulled yourself up from his chest and looked to him with a cocked eyebrow, “Alright?” You questioned. “Yeah.” His demeanor confused you, seconds ago you were spewing words of fantasy, words of love and death, but now he seemed a little too serious on the matter. “What do you mean?”

“Means I wanna do it.” He spoke with his face close to yours, eyes locking into your own, so so close. “Imma build ya a home. Might take a little bit but I promise I will.” With his promise, you closed the sliver of space between you. You had kissed him many times before but there was a new feeling to the gentle urgency his lips met yours with. You could feel the fear of fate melting away in the softness of his kisses and you felt the desire for a peaceful future replace it. And that peaceful future tugged at your lips and ran its fingers through Daryl’s hair.

But most of all there was now a promise. A promise that you’d build together, love together, be full together, and eventually…you’d rot together.

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xwritingdixonx · 7 months

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Not a request but HOLY SHIIII i am in love with “Is it better to speak or to die”!!! So well written and i was reeled in real quick!!!

I cant wait for the next part!! *chefs kiss* absolutely amazed!!

💗💗💗💗💗💗

Aweee thank you so much!!! And thank you to everyone else that’s been so supportive and encouraging. I’m so so glad that everyone is enjoying it. I’m a bit of a perfectionist so i spent a lot of time making it as perfect as possible 🫣

If anyone would like to be tagged when i do (eventually) post the sequel, pls let me know 💗

#daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon series #daryl x you #twd

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xwritingdixonx · 7 months

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Hello everyone! I’ve gotten a lot of attention recently with my last Daryl Dixon one-shot (Is It Better to Speak Or To Die?) and just wanna first thank everyone immensely for their kind words and support!

Secondly, since everyone seemed to love that one-shot so much, i’ve debated writing a sequel of Daryl x reader throughout the Negar war. I’ve become way too attached to their characters and story to let them go so easily. If anyone would be interested pls leave feedback <33333

#daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon series #daryl x you #twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon angst #twd daryl #daryl dixion imagine

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xwritingdixonx · 7 months

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Is It Better To Speak or To Die? | Daryl Dixon |

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Masterlist

Summary: After being rescued from Woodbury by Rick's group, you struggle with living a "normal" life in the walls of the prison. The trauma's inflicted on you at the hands of the Govenour drag you to the deepest depths. A certain archer is the onyl one who can drag you back out.

Warnings: slow burn, language, smoking, grief, depression, talk of body scars, implied smut, implied past abuse, Governor (enough said)

Word Count: aprox. 10k

Era: Prison, Alexandria.

Song Recommendation: Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Ray, Would That I - Hozier

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The survivors of Woodbury had called The Prison “home” for only a week. The war and downfall of the Governor and Woodbury were still fresh in everyone’s gut, though others were making themselves comfortable very quickly. You were not. It was such an irony to you. Taking shelter in a prison as if this world wasn’t a prison. As if the traumas of the past year of survival didn’t hold you by your throat. Your own mental prison.

The bowl you held still warmed your hands. Though you knew no appetite arose in your stomach, you still took the bowl Carol offered just to be polite. Standing alone, your back leaned against the support beam of the gazebo all the benches sat under for meals. You had been a part of Woodbury...but you certainly hadn’t been a part of the community. Not near the end at least.

Most people steered clear of you. Avoiding your tired hardened eyes and threatening gazes. Avoiding the tenseness in your persona. Completely removing themselves from the possibility of having an interaction with the emotionless shell you had become. Others were compassionate, showing you any empathy they could bear. You’d get a polite head nod and warm smile occasionally, though you never returned it.

In Woodbury, no one asked questions, they talked and gossiped amongst one another but never bothered. But at the prison, you were new. Fresh meat. So in turn, you had your fair share of stares and whispers from Rick’s group.

Carol had become your latest bother. In the mornings, just like today, people would slowly make their way to line up for their share of breakfast. Your desire was to simply come out in the crisp morning air and smoke a cigarette, attempting to forget the night of terrors you encountered when you closed your eyes. You’d be sure to isolate yourself a bit away so the smoke didn’t bother anyone’s morning. But Carol simply wouldn’t accept it.

The last few days she’d noticed the lack of breakfast passing your lips. You’d smoke a cigarette and then wait to eat a proper meal for dinner. Reminding her of another certain someone.

She couldn’t make you line up and wait like everyone else. She couldn’t make you come and sit at a table and be social. So, she’d make you your own bowl and walk it over to you, giving you a polite smile, and then walk away. She did this for the past 3 days, catching onto your pattern early on.

“How’s she doing?” Rick drawled as Carol handed him his own bowl of powdered eggs and steamed potatoes. “Can bring a horse to water but you can’t make ‘em drink.” Carol joked back, Rick nodded in response and thanked her for his bowl.

Rick had been keeping an eye on you ever since you’d arrived. Unlike most of Woodbury, who willingly came running out to be rescued, you were found by Rick. The door to the room he found you in had been locked from the outside.

Everything he found out about you from that point had been from the mouths of others. You hadn’t even used words to tell him your name, he had been told by someone else. “Morning.” Rick greeted Daryl who was already almost finished his own breakfast, “Mornin’.” He stood with Daryl, neither of the men having time to sit with all the plans to improve the prison.

Daryl followed Rick’s gaze, noticing the way Rick seemed to be lost in thought. When the gaze ended on you, Daryl scoffed. “Figured that one out yet?” He asked, shoving a spoon of egg in his mouth. “Not yet.” Daryl had tried himself to scramble for puzzle pieces of you but had no success. You didn’t talk. Not a word, not even a whisper. There was a part of him that was intrigued by you, a part of him that wanted to dissect. But there was the other part that told him to mind his business.

“Good morning.” Riley begins to pass by, greeting Rick and Daryl. If the term Southern Bell was a person, that would be Riley. Blonde hair, dark emerald eyes, sweet smile, curvy in all the right places, and a smooth southern drawl. Smooth and sweet, nothing like your jagged sharp edges. Riley had been brought in with the Woodbury group and quickly made herself useful in running her mouth…but also in learning medical. “Morning.” Riley’s green eyes darted in the direction the men were looking. Because how dare their attention be on anyone but her.

“I feel so bad for her…” She commented, putting herself into their conversation. Rick and Daryl both gave each other a glance. Rick wanted to know about you from you. Not from the gossip and storytelling of others. “I swear it’s like her mouth was sewn into a frown when Jackson died.” Riley actually looked quite empathetic when she said this. “Who was that?”

“Her twin brother.”

Rick took a pause from eating his breakfast to let this new information marinate into his brain. Though neither of them asked for it, Riley continued. “When they first got to Woodbury, everything was fine. But then the Governor wanted Y/n to be one of his soldiers.” Using air quotations at the word soldiers.

“Y/n refused over and over. One night, Governor took Y/n and Jackson for a walk outside of Woodbury’s walls and Jackson didn’t come back…Governor said he got bit but…” Riley’s words trailed off as she looked at your stone-like features. “Y/n joined him after that…some people thought he killed Jackson and used it to force her to.” Her tone was uneasy as if the Governor would come to get her if she dared speak of it.

Or maybe she was more afraid of you.

“After that, I mean..” Riley scoffed dramatically and tried to ease the tension with a laugh, “I-I shouldn’t be talking about this anyway.” She gave the men a sheepish smile before swiftly walking away, joining a full table.

"Forgot how much people love to gossip huh?"

"Hmm," Daryl hummed in response. Rick took Daryl's empty bowl and stacked it on his own. "Gonna go give Judy her breakfast, alright?" As he nudged Daryl with his elbow, Daryl responded with a hum that was accompanied by a nod.

Daryl had learned the art of minding his business a long time ago. He didn't want people in his...so why pry into others?

You had finished your cigarette and smushed it into the concrete under your boot, now aimlessly poking around in the texture of the oatmeal. Carol frequently cooked her oatmeal for a tad too long and with too much liquid, giving it a mushy, snot like texture. It gave you another reason to skip out on breakfast but you at least wanted to try.

Daryl watched as you took a bite from the bowl. You moved around the food in your mouth, chewing slowly. The texture on your tongue was enough to turn you away. You looked in the direction of the bench where all of the younger children sat. Some talking with food still in their mouths. Their chattering stopped when they saw you approach like a dark gloomy cloud threatening rain.

Without saying a word, you placed your bowl in front of Patrick, offering him your share. Behind his thick glasses, he looked at the bowl then at you, and smiled. “Thanks Y/n.” You replied with a nod and walked away. Patrick was one of the few people from Woodbury who was consistently kind to you. He was always polite and never treated you any differently. You had actually heard him defend your name more than once. Perhaps he was just too young to feed into it but it was an act that didn’t go unappreciated by you.

And your act towards Patrick hadn’t gone unnoticed by Daryl. It wasn’t as if you had saved his life but you could’ve thrown your share away. Snuck over to the pig's pen and scraped it in. Instead, you gave it to a child.

Daryl would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't intrigued by you. He had never been intrigued by anyone in his life, though he couldn't deny the itch that was the mystery of you.

Two mornings after that one, Daryl had woken up particularly early. Readying himself to go outside the fences. There was a steady whisper amongst his friends the true reason he wondered out of the safety of the prison walls. The thought of The Governor still being alive haunted Daryl’s mind as it did the others. But no one would do what he did nearly every morning. No one except you.

Not many were typically up at this hour. The sun had barely risen and the morning air was still chilly from the night. When Daryl walked out into the courtyard, he didn’t expect to see you. He knew you were typically up earlier than others but not as early as him, not on days like this. You sat on the top of a picnic bench, feet planted where someone would typically sit. You faced away from Daryl but he could see the puff of smoke that typically followed you.

He could tell you weren’t in your typical nature. Despite the circumstances, you typically kept yourself put together. You wore a black long-sleeve fitted to your body and a pair of old gray sweatpants. Your hair was untamed and frizzy, having not been brushed yet. What had you up this early? What had you out of your cell so disheveled? And obviously, in such a rush?

The drag of the cigarette burned the back of your throat. It wasn’t as if you actually enjoyed smoking them. They tasted bad, itched your throat, and the smoke made your eyes water. But it felt as if holding them stopped your hands from shaking so badly every morning. It didn’t. But you’d keep lying to yourself and saying it did. You had woken up from another devilish dream, jolting you awake with a rapid heart and heavy breathing.

Typically you’d sit on the edge of your bed, head in your hands until your heart rate returned to normal. But on this particular morning, you couldn’t sit any longer in those walls, feeling the tightness of their build.

“Mornin.” He greeted you. What was he doing? Why was he even over here? Daryl’s mind ran with thoughts and questions as he awkwardly disrupted your own running mind.

You glanced over at him, your eyebrows furrowing with confusion. Someone disrupting you at this time wasn’t expected. As soon as Daryl saw the harsh glare hit your features, he regretted his decision. He didn’t know what to say to you or what he was doing. Both of your heads turned at the sound of a door shutting, Carol lugging a big pot over to the serving table.

“Carol’s gonna start setting up soon…if ya wanna get outta here.” Your eyes followed Carol for a second before meeting Daryl’s.

Daryl had never seen you face to face, he’d never even spoken a word to you. Your initial glare wore off your face and you gave Daryl a single nod, standing up from the bench. Daryl caught his bottom lip and nervously chewed at it. “M’going…out” Daryl pointed in the direction of the woods, “If ya wanna come.” You glanced between Daryl and the woods and thought for a second before giving him a proper nod.

“Alright. I’ll wait for ya at the gate with my bike.”

It didn’t take long for you to meet Daryl. You’d switched your pants out with jeans and your bare feet with boots. Accompanied with your backpack and a pair of fingerless gloves to fight the chilly morning. You had obviously run a comb through your hair as well.

Daryl appreciated the space you gave him on the bike. You sat an inch or two back, your arms loose around him. Typically when people rode with him they held on tight, maybe a little too tight and too close for Daryl’s comfort, but you didn’t. A steady routine had been built between you and the archer after that morning. Along with a growing friendship.

Carol had picked up on this growing routine. By the fourth day, she began waking up even earlier, packing both of you lunches and a snack as if she were a mother sending her children to school.

The first few days your silence made Daryl uneasy. But soon, he actually began to enjoy your company. He even enjoyed your silence. It came in handy when he was tracking a deer or bunny.

The two of you had created your own language of looks, touches, and whistles. One morning you had gotten separated from Daryl while tracking and the song of the whistle was born.

The once colorful leaves were now a dirty brown and crunched awfully loud when you stepped on them. The early Fall months were slowly becoming even colder which meant being on the lookout for anything edible became far more important. Especially meat. Daryl had begun to teach you how to track on your own, which meant the two of you could cover more ground on the same hunt.

Your footsteps were steady and quiet, your eyes trained on the consistent tussle of the leaves. There was a specific herd of deer that had been on Daryl’s radar that he’d spotted a few mornings ago. Daryl walked a few feet behind you, checking that the tracks you eyed were accurate.

The leaves began to blend together, and the steady path you found was now lost from your sight. You kneeled down and dug the leaves away from the ground hoping the tracks would be embedded in the dirt. But the ground was too cold and dense to be marked with anything. It was when you turned to face Daryl and accept your defeat that he was no longer there.

A sense of panic seized through you. Your eyes scanned around the surrounding tree lines for a sign of his silhouette but you saw none. You’re fine, you told yourself, but the comfort Daryl’s presence provided was now gone and you were beginning to spiral. You didn’t know these woods well and you didn’t know your way back to the prison from here.

Out of sheer desperation, you brought your lips together and let out a two-tone whistle. You gave it a second of silence and just as you were about to repeat, a long one-tone whistle replied back. Daryl quickly came back through an opening in the trees looking as if he had run back to you. His eyes were filled with panic. “Ya alright?” You nodded, seeing him again immediately put you at ease. “M’sorry. Found the tracks, they go off this way.”

Daryl spent a lot of time studying you. It wasn’t intentional…but he couldn’t help but pay attention to every detail. He knew when something was on your mind by the way you dazed off more or the more cigarettes you smoked. Or the way you fiddled with the sleeves of your shirts and jackets. He understood the different expressions on your face and what every one of them meant. You expressed yourself a lot through your eyebrows and eyes. No matter what expression, your eyes were always filled with such sadness. You never smiled. Even on days when Daryl felt good and felt as if he was going to have some major breakthrough, you never did.

Daryl enjoyed what he’d built with you over these last few months but his mind and body were becoming restless. He yearned for you, he yearned to know you. It was like being covered head to toe in mosquito bites. And then someone tying your hands so you’d never be able to scratch them. He wanted to hear your voice and he wanted to see you smile. He told himself that if he ever got to hear you laugh, he’d start praying and going to the prison chapel.

He realized he’d never even seen your teeth before, though it was an odd thought, it would be added to the pile of things that itched and irritated.

Then there were the other thoughts. The bites that itched but also ached and throbbed. He wanted you to sit closer to him on the bike and he wanted your arms tight around his torso. He wanted to hold your hands and stop them from shaking in the morning. He wanted to keep you close after running away from a hoard.

Daryl had spent his time dissecting you like a frog in science class.

Now, he had grown impatient of dissecting. He’d never wanted anyone how desperately he wanted you. You were his sweet tooth craving, you were his stomach-decaying hunger, and you were his fucking mosquito bite. But despite all of Daryls itches and desires, he'd never try to change you. He'd never push you out of the comfort of your silence though he would always be waiting.

The time spent with Daryl had put a piece of you at ease. You’d had grown a special attachment while Daryl had practically sewn you to his hip. The only time you weren’t with him was when it came time to shower or sleep.

You met Daryl every morning at the gate, ready to go wandering amongst the trees or scavenging. Some day's you made it back in time to catch lunch together. Especially if you had an early morning catch and had to get back before the meat went rancid. Most days, you'd find a quiet and safe spot to eat the lunch Carol packed and made it back to the prison before sunset and dinner.

There was peace in this routine...but you couldn't live in this routine forever. There were other duties that needed attention around the prison. The early morning adventures had become less but the time together never changed.

When you weren't enjoying the company of Daryl, you enjoyed the company of the garden. And when it was too late in the day for either of those things, you read books about the garden and thought about Daryl. You learned what crops could be grown in the winter and then looked for their seeds in old gardening stores...with Daryl.

Some, Most, Every night you thought of him. You thought of all the things he'd taught you, of his patience with you, and all the stories he told to fill the air. He'd tell you stories of him and Merle. You wanted to tell him that you knew Merle. That when the Governor locked you away, Merle would come visit you and sneak you food. That he was kind to you despite being such a prick to everyone else.

But no matter how much time and peace Daryl provided, the nightmares never left you. You still woke up with shaky hands and a racing mind and memories of your brother. Although you did cut the habit of reaching for a cigarette. Mainly because your pack was running low and it was becoming impossible to find any more.

Unknowing to you, Daryl had been finding them while scavenging and hiding them in spots you didn't look.

You grabbed the carrot at its very base and pulled it from the soft dirt, a soft snap following. The gloves that kept your fingers from freezing were covered in mud and bits of green. It had rained in the night which made the ground perfectly soft to harvest produce. So, instead of going out this morning, you and Daryl were in the gardens. Well, Daryl followed you to the gardens and wouldn't leave.

"This one alright?" Daryl held up a cabbage with his own gloved hand only a few feet away. You glanced over and gave him a approving nod. He tossed it into the basket that already held a mixture of carrots, celery, and fresh herbs for Carol's cabbage soup.

Carol had become less of a bother to you. In fact, you'd actually created a swift routine with her. You read and researched the books about plants and gardening while she read the ones about cooking. You were the farmer while she got to play Martha Stewart.

"How's it going you two?" Rick and Carol approached the gardens with a little extra pep in their step. The rain fall had made this winter day chillier which meant everyone was bundling up and multiple fires were lit in the courtyard and cell blocks for warmth. "S'alright!" Daryl shouted as he fought with a carrot that seemed to be deep rooted in the ground. From your kneeling position on the ground, you watched Daryl with amusement as he struggled. You would’ve thought that carrot was as big as a egg plant with all his pull and tug.

“You got it Pookie?” Carol teased, Rick and her both getting their own dose of amusement. “M’fine.” With one last pull, the carrot popped from the dirt. “Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’” Daryl held up the carrot, it was about the size of his thumb. You heard Rick and Carol have their own set of laughter, “Maybe you should stick to huntin’ those deer.” Rick said between a few chuckles. Daryl scoffed and tossed the baby carrot into the basket, as he kneeled down to continue picking, he caught your expression.

It was so small he could’ve missed it but he didn’t and he was so glad he hadn’t. You looked back down towards the dirt, a smirk tugging up the corners of your lips and poking your cheeks, dimpling them. For a second, it felt as if someone had punched Daryl in the chest. But it was there just as fast as it was gone.

From that moment on, Daryl wanted nothing more than to feel that again…as did you. You felt foolish. There was this awful gnawing inside you that was telling you every day what you already knew within your heart. He was chipping away at every wall you’d built up and beginning to break down the wall to a very soft spot of you. You had begun to feel like a turtle removed from its shell. Mushy, sensitive, and vulnerable. Gross.

"Hey Y/n!" The youngest Greene girl greeted. The community of the prison had begun to warm up to you. They no longer avoided you like the plague opting to actually say "hello" or "good morning" or maybe even a "goodnight." It had become very well known the closeness Daryl and you held and if people knew, people talked.

You looked up from your current book to Beth standing in the doorway of your cell clutching a small pile of tan books to herself. "Can I..come in?" She awkwardly shuffled her feet farther in and adjusted the books, you nodded. Beth let the curtain that covered your doorway drop and happily took a seat on your bed. You sat up straight and set your book of, Wildflowers Of All Seasons, on the bed beside you. While you adjusted yourself, Beth seemed to be studying your room.

It was more decorated than she had imagined. Your cell was on the upper level, one down from Daryl's. You had a very small wooden nightstand beside your bed that had various half-melted candles. Their wax dripped down the sides and embedded itself into the wood. On the wall across from your bed stood a very slim wooden table.

It was decorated with different trinkets and bottles you'd scavenged, a zippo lighter, and a stack of your growing book collection. Shoved underneath was a wire basket that held all your clothes. Your only 2 pairs of boots and bookbag sat beside it. Your everyday black, fleece-lined jacket was hung off the pole of your bed.

"I found these in the library and thought you might like them." Beth laid out the books on your bed, making it a point to show you every single one of them. Peterson - Field Guide to... They all read. They were very small and slim, a pale shade of tan, with various illustrations on the front pertaining to the title. Perfect to slip into your bag.

"I thought they'd be nice for you to carry when you go out in the mornings." Beth watched as you examined each book, "I wanted to grab them for you before anyone else found 'em." Beth held a very innocent hopeful smile the whole time she spoke to you but your silence was causing her to become uneasy. You picked up a specific one, Field Guide to Animal Tracks. You looked up at the girl and gave her a thin-lipped smile to show your appreciation.

A wide smile formed on her face and she left with a very sweet "Goodnight."

Glenn relieved Daryl from watch tower duty later than expected. It had to of been close to midnight when he got back to his cell. As he walked by your cell, he carefully peeled back your green curtain to check on you. You were a restless sleeper, Daryl heard you almost every night tossing and turning or waking up with a jolt.

Most of your features were concealed by the darkness but from what was visible, you appeared to be in a peaceful sleep. There was a veil of softness to you when you slept. A softness and calmness that never graced you during waking hours. He knew it wouldn’t last very long but he wanted to ensure that at least right now, you were okay. But he could not stand and watch all night. He felt creepy enough.

Daryl noticed the little tan book sitting on his bed as soon as he pulled back his curtain. The moonlight slightly gleamed off the sleek shiny cover. Field Guide to Animal Tracks. As Daryl flipped the book open to its title page, he felt his ears and cheeks warm up. Thankfully the darkness concealed his cheeky smile.

To Daryl. Not like you need it. - Y/n.

The group of deer that Daryl had spotted a month ago was still high on his radar. Though he still had yet to actually catch any of them.

The cabbage soup was still hot in your thermal, emitting a cloud of steam when you popped off the lid. You and Daryl sat in each other's company in your typical spot. A large tree had fallen down just at the entrance to a clearing in the woods providing a perfect resting spot. Had it been Spring or Summer you could only imagine the beauty of the green scenery. But this cold winter didn't provide much besides dry grounds, barren trees, and a frozen pond.

There was a peaceful silence that settled, as it always did. You both ate your soups and turned the pages of your books. Surprisingly, Daryl had actually learned a good bit from the book you gifted and he thoroughly enjoyed it.

"Ask ya something'?" You broke your concentration from your book and looked to Daryl. "Ya know why I started coming out here in the first place, right?"

You took a second to think before hesitantly nodding. "Ya never said anything." Daryl truly never understood why. He never hid it from you but still, you never asked questions. You didn't ask what the notes were on all the maps he had, never asked where you were going, or when you'd be back. But he always knew that you knew he wasn't just hunting deer, he was hunting the governor. "What would ya do...? If you ever got to him?"

Perhaps Daryl had pushed too far. Your head snapped back down to your book, though Daryl knew you weren't actually reading anymore. Your eyes were out of focus and your lips formed a frown. You had never taken the time to think about it. You just knew you wanted him to suffer.

Daryl hadn't spoken another word to you since lunch knowing he had poked at a very sensitive subject. "Wait here a second," Daryl said just as you made it back to his bike. He jogged back into the tree line leaving you sitting on the bike, awaiting his return. Daryl returned soon after, a cluster of bright yellow daffodils in hand. You gave him a puzzled glance but as he held out his hand and said, for you, you felt the urgency to cry. Your nose burning up with tingles and your eyes becoming glazed.

"Thought ya might like 'em, I saw them in your book earlier." Your hand gently took them from Daryl's and you stood still. Very still.

Daryl awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "They're uh...daffodils, right? Start bloomin' late January into March?" He had secretly been sneaking reads of your books over your shoulder. It was so fast it startled him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into you, every muscle in his body stiffened. Daryl was reluctant to hug you back but he gave into his heart and gently laid his arms around your torso. The large jackets you both wore proved to be a barrier from feeling the true touch of the other.

“Thank you.” Your words were raspy and just above a whisper. Had you not been so close, Daryl probably would’ve missed them. “Course.” His words were mumbled against your shoulder, not wanting to make a big deal. A low groan in the distance disrupted your short moment of peace, telling you it was about time to go.

The sun was beginning to set when Daryl’s bike rode up the gravel path to the prison. The smell of a brewing soup hit your nose as the two of you began to walk closer to the dining area. “Find a table, I gotcha.” Daryl’s hand lingered on your shoulder for a second longer than it typically did. Despite wearing such a thick layer of clothes, it was as if you could still feel his touch. Even after he was already at the serving table striking up a conversation with Carol.

You sat your pack down at the usual table. It was farthest to the left, farthest away from all the other tables. “Mind if we join you?” Glenn asked, he and Maggie both holding a steaming bowl. Just as you were about to take your own seat, a loud chuckle sounded snapping you around.

“Oh come on Y/n.” Two men had been walking past on their way to fetch their own dinners. You recognized them, they were commonly on wall duty at Woodbury. The taller one motioned to the flowers that poked out from the front pocket of your jacket. “You can’t be serious.” You could feel your heart drop to the very pit of your stomach. It was as if your body was preparing you for the merciless mocking that was sure to come.

“You’re telling me the Governor’s number one soldier is walking around with flowers in her pockets?”

Stop.

You wanted to say but the words became a ball in your throat. Your eyes darted off to the side. All of a sudden, you didn’t know where to look or what to do with your hands or how to stand properly on your feet. You knew the truth behind their “jokes”.

You are not soft. You are not delicate. You are not loveable.

“The hell are ya doin?” Daryl had practically appeared out of thin air, putting himself between you and the men. You saw this as an opportunity to make an escape for your cell block.

“We were just teasing man. We were friends in Woodbury, just joking around.” They still had slimy smirks on their faces that only poked Daryl even more.

Daryl was fuming. “Didn’t look like she was fucking laughin’.” He took a step closer. “She never fucking laughs!” Before Daryl could unleash his fiery rage, Rick intervened. Rick beckoned Daryl to walk away, mumbling that everyone was looking. “Hell if I care.” Daryl snapped swinging his arm in the air. He turned on his boot and snatched up your pack that you’d left behind before going off to find you.

Daryl hadn’t found you in any of your traditional spots. He checked your cell, the library, the garden, and even the showers. He asked everyone he walked past if they’d seen you but no one had, it was as if you just vanished. And the thought of that was throwing Daryl into a deep pit.

The prison chapel had been restored and decorated by Carol to be used for the grieving prison folk. She had put as many candles as possible on a long wooden table. They had been burned and replaced so frequently that the wax dripped down the sides of the table and dropped dots on the floor. There were many different pictures of lost family members or lovers littering the table…it was quite depressing truthfully. The glow of the candles lit up the room and cast an orange glow on your sad features.

You didn’t look at Daryl as he sat down beside you.

“Didn’t know you were religious.”

“I’m not.”

It was an odd thing…to hear you speak so openly but Daryl wasn’t opposed. “I just…” Your voice was hoarse and low, as low as a whisper. “I find this a way to be with my brother.” Daryl had gotten so used to silence that it almost startled him to hear so many words come from your lips. You shook back the hair that fell on your face and let out a deep sigh, resting your back flat against the wooden church pew. Daryl didn’t want to speak, he didn’t want to scare your voice away, he just wanted to listen.

“I hope that doesn’t sound foolish.”

“It doesn’t.” Daryl shifted himself closer to you. “It doesn’t.” He repeated, his thigh pressed against yours. And for some reason, you felt the need to spill your guts. Perhaps being in a church would drag you to confess. “I-uhmm…I never fought against the prison. I refused to do any of it. I truthfully didn’t care if he killed me for it.” You didn’t have to explain yourself to Daryl but you felt the need to. If what you felt towards him was what you thought, you had to. “But, he just locked me in my room. Wouldn’t let me out.” Somehow, Daryl knew. He never saw you with the Governor, never saw you fighting. And when Rick told him the locked room he found you in, he pieced it together.

“Everything is true though. Everything they say about me, everything he made me do before that.”

Daryl didn’t care, he never had. Daryl cared that you didn’t want to. He cared about the fact that you were forced to. You shrugged your shoulders and looked off, “I’m as guilty as they come.”

Daryl couldn’t stand the sad look on your face, “Alright then…put yer hands behind yer back. I’ll take ya to your cell.” His joking manner caught you so off guard that a laugh escaped you. It was airy and gentle. He truly couldn’t believe it.

You laughed. And Daryl was in church.

Daryl returned to his serious demeanor to reassure you, “I care about how he hurt ya, Y/n. Don’t care what you did.”

Your eyes found Daryl’s in the dimly lit room and for a second you felt it, deep within your chest. And it ached and feared but it also loved. “Good.” You couldn’t fight the smile that squeezed your cheeks as you looked at him. Your eye contact broke allowing silence to welcome itself back. But only for a short time. “Daffodils are the birth flower of March…Jackson and I were born in March.”

After that night in the chapel, Daryl wanted nothing more than to hear your voice. It felt like his ears were filled with honey every time you spoke. It was raspy yet smooth with a hint of a southern drawl from growing up in Georgia. A thick rich honey that he wanted in a cup of hot tea and to take down his throat.

Winter was soon turning to Spring. The sky was bluer and most days the sun shined. The green of the grass and trees were returning. The garden was beginning to look even more promising come warmer weather. And just as the flowers were beginning to take bloom, so were you.

Your hard demeanor had softened, especially for Daryl. You still didn’t talk to many people besides him but you said a word or two when you wanted. Daryl took it upon himself to give Jackson a “grave” where the others were. It was just two pieces of wood, formed into a cross with his name carved in it, planted into the ground. “So that ya don’t have to go down to the chapel. Ya can be outside with him and the garden and stuff.” He had said when he showed you.

“It’s rotten work trying to find these deer.” You and Daryl strolled the wooded area, eyes on the deer tracks that embedded themselves in the dirt. Daryl shushed you and continued his concentration on the tracks. You smiled to yourself and shook your head. “I was rotten work…at the beginning.”

“Nah ya weren’t, not to me.” Daryl didn’t even hesitate, he didn’t even turn look at you. He just continued walking ahead of you, following the tracks.

The two of you settled in your usual spot. Leaning against the fallen tree at the opening to the clearing in the woods. You were right about the clearing looking more beautiful in the warmth of Spring. The trees were plump with fresh green leaves and the water in the pond sparkled under the sunlight. The grass grew tall with a mixture of white and yellow wildflowers. Your fingers ran the edge of the book page as you turned it.

Your current book was, Field Guide to Medical Plants and Herbs. There was some type of cold floating around the prison and finding the medical supplies to treat it was sparse and you’d do anything you could to help.

Daryl was interrupted from tending to his bow by your elbow jabbing his side. Without looking at him, you held up a folded piece of paper and pen. Daryl gave you an odd glare before plucking them from your fingertips. You did this often. When you couldn’t be bothered to use your voice or if you didn’t want to break concentration from a book.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

Daryl could feel his heart begin to quicken its pace within his chest. He didn’t know what your words meant but at the same time, he did.

The folded paper got tossed back into your lap.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

So say them.

Just then, a rustling sound sounded from within the trees from across the clearing. You gripped for your blade as Daryl grabbed for his bow. Two deers came through the trees, their white and tan tails flicking back and forth. You could’ve sworn you heard Daryl stop breathing for a second. Daryl slowly leaned up on his knees, bow in hand raising to his eye. Your eye caught it before Daryl’s did.

Another deer emerged from the trees, a fawn close behind her…and then another. “Don’t.” You brought your hand to Daryl’s bow and lowered it to point at the ground. He went to protest but when he saw the twin fawns happily nibbling at the tall grass, he stopped. It was a beautiful sight, as were you.

When your eyes broke away from the deers and to him, that’s when he decided. Daryl cupped your cheek lightly and met your lips with his. His lips were gone just as fast as they were there but his hand didn’t leave. He was still so close that your lips feathered his. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him down to you again.

What happened that day was never spoken of. But as Daryl sat in the darkness of the train cart in Terminus, he so deeply wish it had been.

But now, you were gone as was the prison. The look on your face, when the Governor stood outside the prison, was burned into Daryl’s eyelids. The way your chest heaved with anger, your hands shook with rage, and revengeful teary eyes stared off. The last he saw was you slipping out through the prison fence to go after him. Daryl yelled at you to not do it, to come with him, but you didn’t listen. You’d let yourself die if it meant you finally got your hands on him and Daryl knew it.

You could be dead. You could’ve died weeks ago fighting the Governor. You could be out there alone and starving and scared. Or you could be just fine. Daryl would never know.

When Terminus fell and he watched Rick cuddle and kiss Judith in his arms, he had a surge of hope. And when he saw Carol alive, he had more hope. As everyone said hello, it was as if he waited, waiting for you to magically appear. “Nobody has Y/n?” A deafening silence followed, quieter than you ever were. “Daryl…” Michonne stepped towards him. As he went to walk away, she stopped him placing a hand on rising his chest. “Darlyl. I’m not saying she didn’t make it. I’m just saying she didn’t look good.”

“Yeah? And you didn’t help her?” Daryl snapped shoving her hand off his chest. “Get off me.” Daryl seethed with hot tears in his icy blue eyes. It became an unspoken rule to not speak your name around him.

Your hand pressed firmly on the wound that oozed blood down your side as you limped your way into the cell block. Your right side was stained in the crimson color, all the way down to the knee of your jeans. You strained and let out a groan of pain as you took a step up the stairs that led to your cell. You didn’t need to look at yourself to know you looked awful. The walkers that completely ignored your existence when you limped by them told you enough.

Your entire torso throbbed in pain. The bruising from the kicks you took to the stomach were forming and it felt impossible to move. Your head felt like tv static and you had an undying desire to sleep. But you couldn’t. You likely had a concussion and knew that if you slept now, you wouldn’t be getting back up. Besides, you had to find Daryl. There was a hope that he’d stayed in the area and you’d find him if you just looked. You knew the woods around here well, you could find him. He was waiting for you, he had to be.

In your fuzzy state of mind, you threw whatever you touched into your pack. You changed out of ruined clothes and into clean ones. When the collar of your shirt dragged down your face, you let out a whimper of pain as it got caught on your bottom lip. There was a cut that dragged from the under your left nostril, across the left corner of your lips, and ended at the bottom of your chin.

It became a blur how you left your cell safely and ended up on the path Daryl and you walked every morning. You had to get to your spot. The spot with the fallen tree and clearing. Daryl would wait for you there. You were sure of it. When you got there and he wasn’t there, it was okay, you told yourself. You just had to wait for him.

You lowered yourself to the ground, a few whimpers of pain escaping your lips. With your back resting against the tree and arm draped over your mid section, you slipped into unconscious. You awoke to the sound of a man’s voice. “Hey, hey.” He said trying to wake you but your eyelids were too heavy to lift and you felt the weight of every muscle in your body. “Heath! Go tell Laura to bring the car around. We gotta take her back.”

“It’s a ten hour drive back Aaron, you think she’s gonna make it?”

“I don’t know.”

You awoke with a slight jolt. Your chest heaved with heavy breathes as your eyes dilated to the bright and unfamiliar room. Your body ached but the softness of the mattress you laid on seemed to comfort it. “Pete, go get Deanna.” Aaron instructed, sitting up in his seat next to your bedside. Your eyes wandered the room, trying to figure out where you were. “Hey. I’m Aaron. You’re in the infirmary in a community called Alexandria.” You looked to the man that sat to your right. He had a very kind face and gentle eyes. His clothes were perfectly clean and his curly brown hair was freshly washed and fluffy.

“Myself and others were on a trip along the East Coast to look for survivors to bring here.” Aaron clarified further, “We found you and brought you back, you were in really bad shape…you still…you still kind of are.”

Aaron could see the confusion and panic drawn on your face. Your head snapped to the door when you heard footsteps on the polished wood floors. “Hi” Deanna gently said approaching your bedside. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up. What’s your name?”

Your mouth hung open for a second, your mind still wasn’t clear, and you had no clear memory of the last three days. “Y/n” You finally replied, voice hoarse and raspy. Deanna smiled at you, “Where am I?” You asked finally finding your voice. Deanna and Aaron exchanged a glance, “You’re in a safe community called Alexandria in Virginia.”

Virginia?

You could feel your world begin to tumble, a thousand thoughts racing your mind. You were so far away from Georgia. You were away from home. Away from Daryl. “No.” You attempted to pull yourself out of the bed but were stopped by Aaron softly holding you back. “No, no, no.” You repeated and dropped your head down into your hands as panicked sobs racked your chest. “Pete! Go get her something to calm down.”

You didn’t want pills to help calm down. You wanted to go home. You wanted to be with him. You sat yourself up in the bed despite the pain in your torso telling you not to. “Daryl?” You asked Deanna. She could see the desperation in your teary eyes, “I’m sorry we only found you.”

Aaron sat up from the dirt floor of the barn after Rick had knocked him unconscious. Rick’s group continuously went back and forth with one another debating their plan. Once they finally decided and everyone was being assigned a position, Rick turned to Daryl. “Daryl, go keep an eye-“

“Wait, Daryl?” Aaron interrupted Rick’s order from his spot on the floor. He felt everyone’s eyes on him in an instant. “Daryl Dixon, right? Y-you knew an Y/n?” Daryl stomped over to Aaron and gripped him by the front of his shirt, pulling him close. “How the hell ya know Y/n?” Daryl’s tone was threatening yet shaky. Aaron knew if he didn’t start talking he’d end up back on the floor.

“She’s in Alexandria, she lives with me, she’s safe! A-a little over a month ago, myself and others were on a trip along the East Coast looking for survivors. We found her in the woods down in Georgia.” Aaron took a pause, “She was in really bad shape, we brought her back and she’s been there ever since.”

“She talks about you all the time.” Daryl’s hand shook around the fabric of Aaron’s shirt, his eyes studied his face trying to find any indicator that he was lying. ”I don’t fuckin’ believe ya.” The thought of you being alive and safe comforted Daryl but he wouldn’t so easily believe a stranger. “I’m not lying, I swear.” Aaron frantically said, “She-she gave me something to give to you. It’s in the front pocket of my bag.”

Daryl shoved Aaron back to the ground with a thud. Rick tossed Aaron’s bag to Daryl, practically tearing off the zipper getting into it. Daryl’s unsteady hands pulled out the familiar small tan book. As he flipped open to the title page, he read the words you’d written to another that day.

There’s so many things I want to say to you.

So say them.

As Daryl read the new words you’d written, he could feel the lump forming in his throat.

It was easier to die than to say them.

“I probably should’ve led with that, huh?” Aaron joked attempting to lighten the mood. Rick’s gruff voice responded, “Shut up.”

The sun shined in Alexandria despite the rainstorm that came through the night before. You found yourself where you always were, in the gardens. The heavy rain had bent many of the plants out of shape and the raised wooden garden beds were flooded. The mixture of water and grass squelched under your boots as you examined the damage. With a deep sigh, you pulled out a box of cigarettes from your back pocket along with a zippo lighter. It wasn’t a habit you proudly picked back up. But after the fall of the prison and Daryl no longer being there to help you, it found its way back.

You tilted your head up to the sky and blew the smoke from your lips. You closed your eyes and let the sunlight cast its rays onto your face. And as you did, you tried to imagine that you were standing in the garden of the prison again. That Daryl stood only a few feet away, fighting with a vegetable, and cursing as he did.

“Hey Y/n.”

Spencer disrupted your daydream, standing a few feet away and calling out your name. “Sorry,” He jokingly held up his hands in surrender, “Aaron’s back, he asked for you at the gate.” Aaron had returned to Alexandria several times over the past month with new faces. Every time you’d go to the gate and wait for him to return, your heart full of hope. But every time the same disappointment rained down on you. It was never who you wanted, it was never him. So, when Aaron told you about a group he’d been tracking and trying to bring back, you didn’t care to listen. You saved my ass and now you think you can save everyone? You said to him a few nights ago.

“Going.” You replied bluntly. You wouldn’t allow your hopes to grow just to be smashed into pieces. Your eyes were on the ground as you walked to the front gate, cigarette dangling from your lips, and hair falling in your face. Spencer talked his jaw off beside you, every word he spoke going in one ear and out the other. But the sound of a familiar whistle vibrating against your eardrums perked your head up in an instant.

You tossed your cigarette from your mouth and found your way back to him. Daryl met you halfway, his arms desperately pulling you in close. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, feeling his shaky breaths on the skin of your own. Your hair was soft and smelled of shampoo. Daryl grasped the fabric of your shirt that smelled ever so slightly of cigarettes.

When Daryl pulled away to look at you, he finally saw the fresh scar drawn on your lips. He wanted to scold you. To tell you how foolish you'd been to go after the Governor alone. "Ya got him?" Was all he could bring himself to ask. You avoided answering but you nodded, "Come on, I wanna go see everyone else."

Despite the group still not fully trusting Alexandria, they felt more at ease knowing you’d been kept safe here. After helping Rick settle the group into the Alexandrian homes, you sat on the front porch with Daryl. Daryl hadn’t let you out of his sight for a second. Everything you did and every where you went, he was there. Besides when Carol shoved him away to shower.

The two of you passed back and forth a lit cigarette, comfortable in the silence of the night air. “Tara asked me about the Governor.” Your words were quiet just incase anyone were listening. Daryl looked to you. “Yeah?” With a deep sigh, you blew the smoke from your mouth. “Yeah…asked what he did to me.”

Daryl could see the way the thought of it dragged your lips into that familiar frown. “Told her I didn’t wanna make her guilty conscious even worse.” You said it as if it was meant to be a joke but Daryl saw through it. “It’s gettin late.” Daryl begin to break you from those thoughts. He was right. The sun had set about an hour ago and everyone was setting up their beds for the night.

“Ya ah….Ya gonna go home?” Daryl didn’t want you to leave, he never wanted to be without you again. “I am home.” There was no hesitation in your reply. Daryl’s eyes snapped to yours in an instant. “Ain’t what I meant.” You stood from your spot and reached a hand out to him, “Come with me.” Daryl glanced between your hand and your eyes. The night was dark and the porch light dim but you could see the rosy color blotch at his cheeks. You lightly kicked his foot with your own, “Just wanna show you where I’ve been staying.”

Your room was in the fully furnished basement of Aaron and Eric’s home. Aaron had welcomed you in, knowing you couldn’t be on your own in your condition. The stairs were on the farthest right wall of the basement, leading you down into a lounge like area with tan carpet and white walls. An L shaped leather couch sat in front of a, now useless, flat screen TV. Past the couch, on the back wall, stood two white doors. Daryl presumed behind one of them laid your bedroom.

You walked him over to the left door and pushed it open. There was nothing special about your room. Simply a bed, two nightstands, a dresser, and a bookshelf in the corner. You sat at the foot of your bed, Daryl took it as a sign to do the same. “I’m sorry Daryl.” Your voice was just above a whisper, avoiding his eyes when you spoke. “I should’ve looked harder for him…I shouldn’t of gotten so distracted.” Your head hung low in shame, “I should’ve talked about that day..in the woods.” The dimly lit room hid the tears that fell from your eyes. “I should’ve said everything I wanted to say.”

“We should’ve.” Daryl corrected you, stopping all your blabbering. Your watery eyes met his with a look of confusion. “Everythin’ ya said. I was there too. S’not all your fault Y/n.” The impact of Daryl’s words made you go quiet. “Ain’t yer fault what he did to you either.”

“I love you.”

Daryl had never shut his mouth so fast in his life. You weren’t sure where your outburst of confidence came from but you didn’t regret it. You accepted it every waking day and every sleepless night you were apart from him. “Nah, ya don’t.” Daryl rejects your confession at the grace of his own insecurity. Your hands raise themselves to his face, a stern look gracing your features. “I have since the prison.”

Daryl didn’t know what to do. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest and the warmth from your hand on his cheek. You gently lean in before connecting your lips with his. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his own. If you had just ruined everything Daryl and you had, you at least wanted to bask in his presence one last time. “I love ya too.” Daryl leaned back in, capturing your lips in his.

The night you’d spent together was full of gentle touches and whispers. The only time silence happened was the sleep bestowed upon you afterwards. Your bedroom was dimly lit come morning time. The only windows in your room were up towards the ceiling, just above ground level. For the first time since Jackson died, you woke up peacefully. No panic attack awaiting you, no need to run away and fill your lungs with smoke. Feelings of the night before returned to your mind, memories in vivid detail. Daryl awoke when he felt the movement of the sheet from beside him.

With your back turned to him, Daryl took it upon himself to graze the skin of your bare back with his fingertips. He caught a glance at the deep scarring along your side. The gash had turned into a raised, dark pink, bruised color on your skin. Daryl could see shadow of lines covering its length from the stitches that had held it together.

As his fingertips traveled down, they stopped on another scar. The left side of your lower back was imbedded with the letter “G”. The scarring of the initial raised your skin, though it wasn’t pink and bruised like the other. It had healed to a shade paler than your skin tone. Daryl simply couldn’t believe it. Fucking bastard.

“Branding iron.” You begin, voice slightly rasp from sleep. “Never did it to anyone else…just me.” Daryl’s hand fell from your back, “Come here.” You reluctantly did so, turning to face him. His hand found the side of your face that didn’t rest on the plush pillow. His facial expression’s became serious but his eyes remained gentle. “Ain’t gonna let no one treat you like that ever again. Ya feel like someone breathes around ya the wrong way, you tell me alright?” You playfully rolled your eyes, a cheeky smile forming but you still replied “Alright.”

Daryl thumb drug along your bottom lip, stopping at the pale scar. “Promise ya won’t ever stop doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“…Bein’ happy.”

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A/n: I've proof read this over and over so I hope everyone is able to enjoy it and theres no mistakes! If anyone would like to submit a request, feel free too. If it's a project i'd be willing to take on, I will try my best to get to it.

2K notes · View notes

xwritingdixonx · 8 months

Text

Till Death Do Us Part | Chapter 8 |

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series masterlist

Summary: Emotions run high after the death of Pete, causing many truths to be revealed.

Warnings: language (of course), mentions of cheating, mention of suicide

Word Count: aprox. 3k

Tags: @bigbaldheadname @daryldixcnswife @alanamarie @suniloli @fuseburner

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Words and insults threw themselves around the dining room. You were tired and angry but mostly irritated at the fact that that bastard's blood had splattered on your nightgown. "We are fucked!" Eddie spoke, matter of factly to Nellie, "We don't know that!" She argued back.

"Deanna is grieving. I doubt the first thing on her mind is kicking us out." Despite his anger towards what had been done to his boys, Tommy did his best to be reasonable. As he always has done.

You couldn't imagine the grief that surely engulfed Deanna. She had lost her son and husband in such a short span of time. You knew, had it been you, you would have gone mad already. You’d be tearing down the world and everything that stood in your way.

“I say we take Alexandria like how we wanted from the beginning. We could have it before the sun rises!”

Your eyes snapped to Eddie in an instant, disbelieving the way he just spat that out as if it was nothing.

You heard Daryl mutter a, what? from beside you. “Wait” Rick stepped forward with a sarcastic chuckle, “it’s been your plan this whole time?” Multiple yes’s we’re shouted at him at once, including your own. You had never watched a man shut his mouth so quickly. At least now he understood. He understand your fight for Alexandria, he understood the roles you played. He was just beginning to play checkers but you were already winning chess.

Standing from your seated position at the table, “We do nothing, we deal with what comes tomorrow.” You flashed everyone a hard stare, a knowing look, too exhausted for any insubordination. Your mind spiraled with thoughts and worries of the boys well-being, of Alexandria, of Daryl. Your body and mind ached for you to just simply rest. Dropping your mouth open to continue, you waved your hand in the air almost in a way to stop your own words. “No, I’m going to bed.”

You stood at the bathroom sink, only in your underwear, scrubbing with hot water the blood stains on the light silky fabric. The bathroom door was open halfway, allowing a stream of light into the dark bedroom. The sound of the bedroom door opening and closing pulled you from your task.

Using your foot to kick open the bathroom door completely, you watched Daryl take a seat on the edge of the bed, letting out a deep sigh when he hit the plush mattress. A sigh escaped your own lips, shutting off the sink as the hot water had begun to turn the undertones of your skin a burning red.

You hung the gown to dry and left the bathroom to your dresser, in need of new pajamas. “Hopefully the stains come out.” No response met your words. Daryl kept his back to you, head hung low while playing with his hands. Something was bothering him, you could feel it the second he entered the room. “It’s stupid to wear something like that now anyway. It just made feel pretty and-“

“Why are ya lyin’ to me?” Daryl disrupted your babbling words.

It made you freeze in your tracks, t shirt in hand.

“I’m not lying to you.” You slipped the t shirt over your head and closed the dresser drawer a tad harder than intended, causing some of the nick nacks on top to rattle. Daryl scoffed and adjusted his position so he was sat up in bed, back against the backboard.You chose to ignore his scoff and went to turn off the light in the bathroom. Though the room was now dark, the feeling stayed the same.

You plugged in the dim lamp on your nightstand, knowing you would have to go through a martial dispute before granting yourself the rest you desired.

You sat on your side on the bed, leaning your body over to him. “What am I lying about?” The room was dim but your eyes had adjusted enough to see the glare he gave you. “Been lyin’ since the start. You lied bout’ where you were before. Bout’ Alexandria. Bout’ yourself. Hell, feel like all the things i’m findin’ out ain’t even coming from you.”

“And what do you mean by that?” You could admit you’d lied. But did he even for a second think that perhaps your lies and secrets were because you weren’t ready to tell the truth?

Daryl hesitated. He was angry but what he wanted to say was irrational, it was a thought that had never crossed his mind before tonight. “What was Pete talking bout’?” Your eyebrows furrowed from confusion, “What do you mean D?” He once again hesitated.

“Luke said Pete was saying’ stuff bout’ Tommy and you. I saw the look on yer face, you knew what he was sayin’.” The hand you had placed lovingly on Daryl’s thigh retreated. Your posture straightened as your body seemed to recoil itself away from him. Almost like a turtle slipping back into its shell.

Daryl watched your movements, only feeding into the insecurity that was pounding at his chest. Daryl had always been insecure when it came to you. He never believed he deserved you. Always believed that someone smarter and more attractive would come along and swoop you away. It had been his greatest fear since day one.

“Are you trying to ask me if I fucked Tommy? My dead sister’s husband?”

With the tone of harshness you had presented the statement with, it made Daryl feel ashamed. Ashamed at the way he allowed his own insecurities to eat away at him. Ashamed that such an accusation like that could’ve even been made wether it was from him or the mouths of others.

“I don’t know.” Deep within him he knew it wasn’t true but the anxiety of you saying yes still remained.

You laughed. You laughed at him. He looked at you to confirm what his ears heard and surely you had a sad smile on your face. Tears welled in your eyes. You looked away from him as they began to fall.

“Me and Tommy have gotten close over these years, especially after Lizzie.” Your tone was thick with sadness. “It was just us and the boys on the road after Lizzie. I had to talk him out of following Lizzie so many times. Even had to stop him once.”

Those were some of the darkest days you had ever encountered.

“When we got to Alexandria, Tommy didn’t have a wife, I didn’t have a husband. I stayed around Tommy and the boys a lot at the beginning. They were who I felt safe with but….people talked.”

There were sobs growing within your chest, rising to your throat. “I’ve taken care of those boys as if they’re my own because that’s what Lizzie wanted. And I’ve been called the nastiest things for it.” It was a frustration and sadness you couldn’t begin to explain. You took a second to find a breath, wiping away tears. “So no. I have never fucked Tommy. I can't believe you'd let these fucking Alexandrians get in your head like that."

Daryl’s insecurities were now replaced with guilt. Such a sorrowing and decaying feeling.

“I’ve only lied to you because I know the truth is going to hurt you a lot more. Especially about where I was before Alexandria. I was…” You stopped when you saw the fearful tears prickling his eyes. “I was abused and humiliated.” He lowered his head, unable to look at you, never seen such sadness in your eyes before. “M’sorry. M’sorry.” He repeated as his guilt grew, eating away at his conscious. “It’s my fault. I left ya.”

You knew you were meant to be angry with him but the rise in your emotions demanded the comfort from him. And you wouldn’t let him sit and blame himself for the traumas you had endured.

You crawled to him, making room for yourself between his legs, resting your head on his chest. His arms wrapped themselves around you in an instant, pulling you closer. The simplicity of his body temperature was enough to comfort you. All the times this world had thrown you down and dragged you through the mud, this was the person you had spent your time crying out for.

“It wasn’t your fault.” You reassured, your hands running up his shirt and rubbing his bare skin for comfort. When there failed to be a response, you pulled away, only to look up and see the tears that silently fell down his cheeks. “It wasn’t your fault D.” You reached a hand up to rub the tears from staining his face. “I promise we’ll talk about it more. But please, go to bed with me?”

"Lizzie!" You grasped your sisters arm and yanked her away from the group of walkers that busted through the back door of the pharmacy. It was meant to be a simple trip into the pharmacy. Luke had been feeling under the weather due to the allergies in the Spring air.

If you could just find him some Aleve or Claritin, everyone would be put at ease with his health.

You rushed out of the pharmacy, slamming the door and placing back the crowbar that had been lodged in the door handle. Looking back, you should’ve taken it as a warning to stay away.

“You alright?” Lizzie had obviously been startled by the sudden disturbance of what was meant to be, an easy scavenge. Her eyes were still wide with shock but she nodded. “Come on, let’s go back to camp.” You playfully shoved her shoulder, holding up a very crushed box of Tylenol Cold and Flu pills in your hand. She laughed and snatched it from you following you back into the tree line.

Camp wasn’t exactly a place to call home. You had set up in the middle of a clearing in the woods, just by the edge of a small hill. Lizzie rubbed Luke’s back motherly as he sneezed over his can of soup. “It’s okay, sweet boy. Medicine should kick in shortly.” The sun was setting and you’d have to stuff out the fire soon so no one would see the light. Someone spotting the smoke worried you enough.

Lizzie slept as she always did, sandwiched in between her two boys. Providing them with her own body heat. “You and Henry gonna start cuddling too or?” You joked with Tommy as the two of you began setting up your own “beds”. Your joke earned a deep chuckle from the man. “Fortunately, Henry’s taking up watch duty tonight.”

Though you and Tommy had ended that night joking and picking on the other, the morning would put a stop to that for a long time.

You were awoken by a blood curdling scream. You scurried to stand to your feet before your mind was even fully awake. “Jace? Luke?” Your heart sank as you saw the scene before you. Luke hid behind Jace as Jace shoved Lizzie away. Tears streaming down both of their faces. But that wasn’t Lizzie, not with those awful sounds and movements.

“Boys come!” You shouted, only causing who was once your sister to turn to you. It was as if you froze, your hand was placed on the blade on your belt but you couldn’t grab it. It was her…only paler. And empty.

Bang!

Jumping at the sudden noise and the thud that followed, you turned your teary eyes to Tommy. His shaking hand still on the trigger. The shock of what he did froze him like that for a second. But the absolute agony hit him even faster. “What did I- What did I do?” He repeated between sobs.

You looked to Henry who, just like everyone, was in a great deal of shock.

It was the clicking of the pistol that pulled you from your own daze, “Tommy no!” There wasn’t any hesitation when you tackled the man down, sending both of you for a tumble down the side of the hill. You landed on a particularly large rock. The cracking sound you heard within your ribcage made every inch of your body shiver.

You laid there, clutching your side, trying to take in every breath of air as the wind had been knocked out of you on impact. You laid there staring up at the tree tops accepting the pain of your injury. For a second, there was peace. Though you knew you weren’t dying, you figured this would be the best way to go. Lying in nature, looking at the sky. And you wondered if Lizzie felt this peace just hours ago, laying with her boys, stargazing at the night sky. And you wondered if she knew.

When Henry brought you back up to camp and laid you down on your sleeping bag, you learned that she did know. The letter she had left you was tucked on the inside of the bag. You didn’t read it until you arrived at Alexandria two months later.

And within that letter gave you every reason to begin your plan in taking Alexandria. Wether you played a quick brutal game or a slow manipulative one, you were going to take care of her boys and keep them safe. Just like she wanted.

The morning came quicker than you hoped. When you awoke, it was plenty early enough to fall back asleep with time to spare. But the anxiety rush that awoke you in the first place surely wasn’t going to allow that. Not knowing if the place you called home, could be called home much longer was quite the alarm clock.

After you had dragged yourself from Daryl’s embrace, you forced yourself to get ready for what was to come.

The sun had yet to rise but the sky was a cool bluish gray, it seemed to fit the mood. There was a slight crisp in the air. Alluding to the fact that the fall months were going to begin shortly. It made you wish you had put on some sort of light jacket but you hoped the warmth from the mug in your hand would provide enough warmth.

It was too early for anyone else to be awake especially after last night. The streets were bare and empty, exempt for the pools of blood which stained the concrete outside of the Anderson home. You weren’t sure if that sight or the chilly morning air caused you to shiver.

You continued your walk until you got to your favorite spot in all of Alexandria. The small wooden bridge that overlooked the stream that led down into the pond. It was pushed back away from the road and the few trees and bushes kept it as hidden as possible. You leaned your elbows on the railing, blowing at the steam surfacing from your cup.

You’d bring the boys here to talk. You’d sit yourselves under the middle wood railing and let your feet dangle, almost touching the water below. Jace would sit on one side, Luke on the other. At the beginning of summer, you’d watch the frog eggs turn into tadpoles, and the tadpoles turn into frogs.

It's the strong smell of coffee that makes you fix your posture, standing up straight. You don't look at her but you know she's standing beside you. "Knew it was me?" Deanna asked. "You nodded in response. "Only two people I've ever known drink their coffee that strong. My mama...and you." Had it been any other day, she would've laughed but all you got back was silence.

"We're gonna have a funeral for them later today. If you'd like to come." You wanted to say you were sorry. That was what you were taught to do. Say sorry for your loss, attend the funeral, shed a few tears, and then go on. But Deanna didn't seem to be in the mood for sorry's or condolences. "I don't think that's a good idea."

A loud thud caused you to jump. It came from the wall that stood to your far right. It was followed by moans and groans that were louder than normal in the dead of the early morning. "What do you see when you look at them?" Now you looked at her, giving her an odd glare.

"You're around them more than I've ever been, what do you see?"

"Depends." You racked your brain trying to figure out if this was some elaborate question. Some sort of question to put your humanity to the test. "We, the living, see ourselves as so much better than them. But in reality, we're seconds away from being just like them." You watched as a frown formed on Deanna's face at those words. In an attempt to lighten the mood, "It is harder to be compassionate when they're trying to eat you of course."

It was small but you did see her lip almost turn into a smile. "Living behind these walls for all that time...never even imagined losing people. Especially not Reg." She looked away as she said his name, sorrow, and guilt flooding her face. She took a breath to compose herself, "That's not what a good leader does. They dont shelter their people so much that all they know is fear."

You weren't sure if there was a point to her rambling or if she just simply needed to vent to someone who would listen. So, you sipped your tea and awaited her continuation. "I'm sorry Y/n." You looked to her in an instant, not knowing what she was apologizing for. "I've been so stubborn when it comes to you...because I know you'll be a better ruler than I ever could've been."

"What?"

The sun began to peek over the walls of Alexandria, creating an ever-so-fitting glow on the scenery around you. "Reg saw it a long time ago. He believed in you. He wanted you to have Alexandria after both of us were gone. I was just too stubborn to listen."

Words couldn't seem to form themselves on your tongue though your mind ran quick. "What about Spencer? Aren't things like this supposed to be passed to your children."

Deanna scoffed at this. Had she been anymore dramatic about it, she would've spit out her coffee. "I don't even trust him with the liquor cabinet in the house." Though the truth behind the statement was dark, Deanna chuckled. There was a moment of silence as the both of you looked to the bright sun, feeling the rays on your morning skin.

Deanna reached for your free hand with hers. Her skin was drier with more fine lines than your soft smoothed hands. To you, it showed the years she lived, the sons she'd raised, and the man she'd loved with those very hands. "Promise me you'll do great things ?"

"I swear it."

Heir to Alexandria.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon series #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #the walking dead daryl #daryl x you #twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon / reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon x reader #twd x reader #twd fanfiction

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xwritingdixonx · 9 months

Text

Masterlist

Updated as of: 11/04/2023

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Daryl Dixon Series

Till Death Do Us Part Series - Masterlist

- Daryl Dixon is reunited with his wife inside the safe walls of Alexandria. But after three years spent apart, new relationships, and a Saviour War, will there still be a Mrs. Dixon?

Daryl Dixon One Shots

Is It Better To Speak or To Die?

- After being rescued from Woodbury by Rick's group, you struggle with living a "normal" life in the walls of the prison. The trauma's inflicted on you at the hands of the Govenour drag you to the deepest depths. A certain archer is the onyl one who can drag you back out.

Me and The Devil. (sequel to ‘Is It Better To Speak or To Die?’ - coming soon)

- The war against Negan begins, bringing more gruesome truths to light about your past in Woodbury. Refusing to lose Daryl, you sacrifice yourself for his freedom.

To Rot With You.

- Reader and Daryl take a stroll through the woods, contemplating what it truly means to die. And to do it together.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon series #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #twd #the walking dead series #the walking dead negan #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl / reader #daryl dixon #twd daryl

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xwritingdixonx · 9 months

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Till Death Do Us Part | Chapter 7 |

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series masterlist

Summary: As a result of Daryl's actions, Eddie comes to your defense. Pete causes the divide of Alexandria.

Warnings: language, use of guns, blood, typical twd things

Word count: aprox. 3K

Tags: @bigbaldheadname @daryldixcnswife @alanamarie @suniloli @fuseburner

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Typically at this hour you would be wrapping up whatever duty it was you were performing for the day. But after today, your only desire was to be home and not have to put on the facade of being a brave leader. And deep down you knew your temper was too on edge right now to face anyone. Besides, you wanted to use up fresh harvest while you could before it was back to cans, jars, and dried things. So, you did what you loved, cooked. But right now even that was proving to send you to your ends.

Daryl still hadn’t shown after your “talk” in the garage, it worried you that he wouldn’t show at all. Especially once he finds out about the words you shared with Rick. Maybe he was too wrapped up with that stupid fucking bike to realize the time. It was an attempt to reassure yourself but it didn’t work.

Stupid fucking bike, stupid fucking Rick Grimes, stupid fuck-, a sharp inhale left your lips as you watched the knife slide through the tip of your finger and not the potato.

Stupid fucking you for keeping the knifes so sharp.

You tossed the knife out of frustration, turning to run your finger under water, washing the blood that was oozing down. You tried to calm yourself, gripping the edge of the sink with your free hand. The pain in your finger grew, now throbbing with sharp stings. The overwhelming frustration you had been bottling all day was spilling over as hot tears blurred your vision.

You just wanted to keep your family safe. You wanted the boys to be safe, you promised Lizzie they would be. You wanted your husband to stand loyally by your side, just like Tommy has done. You just wanted to cook dinner.

“Y/n?”

Celia and Nellie rushed to your aid, both pulling their attention to different things. “Let me see” Celia turned to water off, grabbing a towel to wrap your finger. “What’s wrong?” Nellie asked close by your side. As you were about to speak, Tommy and Henry joined the kitchen, had been coming home from their day. “Rick, he wants to take Alexandria.” A deep breath left your chest, relieving yourself of the stress you’d carried all day. “And two guns are missing from the armory and I-I don’t think Daryl’s siding with us.” A sob almost slipped but you attempted to calm yourself as you didn’t want to be an emotional mess in front of the eyes of this many.

Silence hung over the room for a mere second, the two brothers glanced at each other before Tommy proudly spoke, “We can take care of it.” Just as you knew, undoubtedly loyal. “I already talked to Rick.” Celia walked with you over to the dining table, telling Nellie to go grab her first aid kit. “I don’t want a fight or a-a war. I don't want what we had to do before. I just-“ “It ruins all of our plans Y/n” Henry interrupted, “I know.”

As you conversed and spilled everything you had known to be true of that matter, Nellie ran into her brother, sneaking in through the back door in another attempt to avoid you. “What are you doing?” Nellie asked, startling the man. “What are you doing?” Eddie shot back noticing the first aid kit in her arms, receiving a glare at his childish response. “Y/n” Was all she replied, Eddie could see the stress hinted on her face, “What’s going on?”

Though your last words to your brother had been in anger, that didn’t mean he cared any less for you. “Well,” Nellie waved the first aid kit in her hand, “She cut herself while cooking but," She was hesitant to continue, not knowing if you wanted Eddie informed. But now she felt cornered, knowing there was no way of avoiding it. "She said that Rick wants to take Alexandria, and at the moment, Daryl’s on his side or that's what she thinks.” Unintentionally Eddie’s head drew back, how dare he? was the first thought shooting through his mind.

Daryl and Eddie had gotten into countless fights, verbal and physical, in the time of their lifelong friendship. Whether that was fighting over games as children or whether that involved you and Daryl's relationship in the first place.

"Where are you going!?" Nellie whispered with a harsh voice watching her brother begin to slip his way back out the door. "Imma take care of it." Ignoring Nellie beckoning him to come back, begging him to not make it worse. But he slipped away with every intent to prove to everyone that he was just as loyal and trustworthy as the rest.

"Had a visit from someone earlier." Rick stood where sleeping bags and pillows were once piled in the common area. Carol sat with her hands crossed over her clothed khakied knee, Maggie sat on the couch, and Michonne leaned on the closest wall. Rick's hands rested on his hips, as usual when he stood like this, "Y/n knows bout' Pete, she follows Deanna, won't do anything about it." Michonne rolled her eyes, she had grown tired of Rick constantly nagging about Jessie and Pete. She understood his intentions were good but had noticed a line constantly being crossed.

"Knows bout' everything."

Maggie never agreed with Rick's "plan" in the first place. Over these past two weeks she had grown to genuinely enjoy your company, along with your family. After losing the last of her blood family, she just wanted peace with her husband, as did you.

“We’re not gonna let this stop anything, alright? We’re not gonna let anyone make us weak. We-“

“The hell you doin’ man?”

Daryl’s low and gruff voice disrupted Rick’s brewing speech. Daryl stood not far behind Rick, his hunter abilities giving him a silent entrance. His clothes were dirty from working on his bike, though that was quite typical of him, but his chest was slightly puffed from anger. Daryl allowed, what he felt, enough time to pass for your talk with Rick before he even thought about making his way over. But he didn’t know he’d walk into what he had now.

Daryl thought Rick had stopped, he thought once Rick knew his “brothers” family was here, he wouldn’t want to take Alexandria anymore. He could insult himself for being so blind to what had been going on right in front of him. Perhaps he had gotten weak, gotten just a little bit too comfortable in your embrace.

“Daryl, I was gonna talk to you alone, I-“

“Ain’t nothin’ to talk about.”

If there was one thing Daryl drew a very fine line with, it was you.

Rick’s chest heaved with a sigh, “She threatened to cut my head off.” Rick could almost laugh at the memory, was wasn’t humorous was the seriousness hidden behind your eyes. “Yeah?” Daryl changed his position to stand in front of the man. Maggie and Michonne exchanged a knowing glance, “And I’d let her.”

Though this had been a thought in Rick’s mind, it wasn’t playing out the way he intended. But how could he expect Daryl to react about proclamations being made about his beloved wife?

“I’m doing this for my family. For Judith, Carl. For our group, our family. You said it yourself Daryl, we all deserve a place like this after everything we went through. But we gotta make it stronger.”

Daryl shook his head, “Nah. You got yer family and I got mine.” With that Daryl left with a scoff and a slam of a door, leaving the room silent.

Daryl returned to Aaron’s, going to clean up the mess he’d left behind. As Daryl pulled the garage door closed, he heard heavy footsteps behind him. He turned expecting Rick but was roughly shoved back by his childhood best friend. “The hell you doin’?!” Daryl yelled, returning the harsh shove. “What do you mean the hell?” Eddie shot back, repositioning himself from his slight stumble back. “Why you shovin’ me?”

A couple Alexandrian’s walked by, shooting the men odd glances. By now, most people had learned to shake their heads and keep walking.

“I walked her down the aisle to you and you’re gonna betray her like this? Choosing some fake fucking family over her?” Eddie spat at Daryl who couldn't hide the utter bewilderment on his face.

“You don’t know what the hell yer talkin’ about!”

The two men looked like they did when they were boys, pushing and shoving, calling each other names, and throwing insults. Aaron came out from his home and stepped in, not wanting a brawl in the middle of his driveway. "Alright alright." Aaron coaxed, "Eddie go, please."

After Daryl sat with Aaron and took time to calm down, that's when he returned home to you. A pang of guilt burrowing in his chest.

When he slipped into the shared bedroom, you were lying on his side of the bed with your back to the door. No covers lay on your frame, showing Daryl that you had simply come to lie down but fallen asleep in the process. The length of your hair was in a loose braid, something Nellie must have done.

She had picked up this habit in moments of comfort or silence. She always loved playing with your hair or Cecilia's even when you were children. Her hair never quite reached your lengths and thickness, a constant reminder that she inherited your mother's thinner hair. Opposed to your father's dark rich curls.

Daryl glanced down at his attire, stained with dirt and his hands with grease. He did as he used to, showering before he came to you. When he returned from showering, you were no longer on his side of the bed. You laid on your side, once again with your back to him, now wearing your silky nightgown. It told Daryl exactly what you wanted it to tell him. You were upset and you weren't giving in so easily.

He slowly lay down beside you and wrapped his arm around your abdomen. You could feel the hesitation in his touch. He knew he had to try to talk to you, to explain himself but he didn't quite have the words. "M'sorry. I'm with you." That was all he could say. He didn't expect it to be enough for you, he didn't expect you to roll over and shower him in forgiving kisses.

You remained silent but brought one hand down to hold his hand in yours. It wasn't much but it was enough for him. "I love ya." Daryl planted a soft kiss on your shoulder before making himself comfortable.

The rest that engulfed the two of you wouldn't last very long. It was soon to be interrupted a few hours later when the streets of Alexandria were empty and the only thing lighting them was dying street lights and dimly lit porches.

You were awoken by Cecilia flinging your bedroom door open, herself wearing her own silky robe and pajamas. At first, you were so startled you didn't quite hear what she was saying, too focused on your heart beating rapidly. She repeated her words more urgently and that's when it clicked, "Jace and Luke!" That was all you needed to hear to jump out of bed, following her out of the house and through the streets.

Daryl was farther behind you, shouting something about putting something else on. You didn’t care for anything he had to say, though maybe he was right. Your nightgown was slightly sheer, showing every bit of your tattoos and scars.

A group had formed in front of the Anderson home, “Jace, Luke!” You shouted approaching the scene, Daryl close behind you. You rushed to the boy's aid noticing their once-perfect faces bruised and bloodied. “Oh god” You muttered, Jace’s cheek was swollen, along with his lip that was busted and freshly red with blood. “Show me.” You demanded from Luke, who held a cloth to his nose. His nose was bruised and bleeding, leaving streaks of dried and fresh blood streaming down his lips and chin.

Your eyes met Tommy's, the worry and anger burning into his features. “Who did this?!” You shouted, whipping yourself around to face the crowd. Your hair followed along with you, only the ends now still being held in the braid, long pieces falling along the frame of your face.

Cecilia examined the boys along with you, Cecilia telling Luke that his nose wasn’t broken. Your eyes landed on Carl, who stood to your right with Rick and Michonne. He didn’t have any visible damage besides his hair being tousled and clothes misplaced.

Ron stood with Pete and Jessie, looking as if he had taken a few hits himself.

The thought crossed your mind that the young boys simply had a brawl in the street. For what reason? You didn’t know but it wouldn’t come as a shock.

Henry and Eddie were already there with Tommy. Cecilia had woken them up first and they were out the door in an instant.

“What is going on here?!” Deanna rushed to the scene, Reg tying his robe as he followed behind her. Everyone stood in some sort of sleeping attire, having been woken up in the dead of night for this. Some Alexandrians in the surrounding homes stood on their porches or peered through cracked curtains.

"He hit Luke!" Jace pointed a finger at Pete.

“No I didn’t! That kids a fucking liar!”

“You’re a fucking liar!” Carl yelled back at Pete, defending his friend.

“Carl!” Rick.

“Dad!” Carl again.

Deanna took a step forward, "That's enough. Luke, what happened?" In an instant, all eyes were on him awaiting an explanation. Despite the anger that raged within you, you could see Luke cowering away behind you. You reached back and grasped onto his hand, holding his arm closely by your side. You took a deep breath, taking a moment to regain your composure. You felt Luke's hand shaking in yours, and you gently squeezed it in reassurance.

"Me, Jace, and Carl were walking home, and when we...walked by Pete was sitting on the porch. He started saying things to us and then got in my face so I said something back and then he hit me."

Luke took a pause, "And then Jace started yelling and Ron came outside and he and Jace started fighting and then Carl jumped in."

Luke's words were stuttered and frantic, his eyes darting between you and Tommy. "He was saying things about Y/n and Dad," Jace added, who stood protected behind Tommy. You shifted on your bare feet uncomfortably, your eyes adverting to the ground impulsively as you rubbed your thumb along Luke's hand.

You were unsure now if you were holding his hand to provide comfort for him or yourself.

Deanna let a deep sigh escape her lips and with a shake of her head, she simply said, "Everyone go home. Pete, we'll talk first thing tomorrow." Disbelief and anger could be felt bursting into the air, "W-what? My sons were attacked!" Tommy's voice boomed, "They were forced to defend themselves!"

Deanna stepped forward, her voice quiet but firm. "I understand, but I'm not going to let this escalate any further. We'll talk tomorrow and sort it out then when everyone is cooled off and the boys have been checked." She started to walk away, her steps heavy with weariness. She didn't get very far before an eruption of yells and insults we're being thrown into the air.

"Fucking whore." Pete insulted, intended for you.

"Please I'm sorry. He didn't mean it he's just drunk." Jessie pleaded, tears silently rolling down her cheeks.

"What'd ya say?" Daryl spat.

"Don't Daryl." You extended your free arm out, blocking him from making any advancements. You had heard every single insult and name that could be said about you....but Daryl hadn't. From the corner of your eye, you saw Rick's arm extend to the back of his belt. He felt your eyes on him, stopping his movement and locking eyes with you.

You glanced at the firearm that poked slightly out, then you glanced at Pete, and back to Rick. And you nodded.

The yelling continued, arguments spewing from both sides. No one stopped, not even when Deanna intervened, telling everyone to stop and calm down.

Jessie pleaded with Pete to stop.

Jace and Carl were going back and forth with Ron.

Tommy demanded justice for his sons, as did Rick.

"Enough!" In a second Pete had a gun raised aimlessly, almost out of instinct everyone took a step back. "Pete! Do not" Reg pleaded rushing to the man's side, pulling at his t-shirt. "Get off Reg!" As Pete shoved Reg away from him, the sound of the gun filled your ears. You grasped onto Luke, pushing him back behind you.

Reg fell to the ground in an instant grasping at the wound in his chest which spilled blood. Deanna rushed to his aid, cradling him in her arms and trying to stem the flow of blood. Cecilia dropped down to her knees beside Reg, doing what she could in an attempt to save him. But there was no doubt that nothing could be done. The group stood stunned and wide-eyed, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Tommy and Daryl had Pete down on the ground in an instant, kicking the gun away from his hands.

"This is how you want it to be, Deanna?"

Deanna's sad eyes looked up at you and then back down to Reg, her small hands cupping his face and holding him close. Pete's outburst was a sign that he was more than a drunk, more than a shitty husband. He was a threat. "Rick." Rick pulled the pistol from his waistband and waited for your command, "Do it."

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon series #daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl x you #twd #daryl dixon #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon angst #the walking dead series #twd x reader

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xwritingdixonx · 10 months

Text

Till Death Do Us Part | Chapter 6 |

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series masterlist

Summary: Two weeks have passed since the last conflict arose in Alexandria. Despite there seemingly being peace amongst all parties, more conflict is around the corner. The death of one triggering a series of events for the rest.

Warnings: language, cursing, death of characters, threatening language, arguing, mention of abuse

Word count: aprox. 3k

Tags: @bigbaldheadname @daryldixcnswife @alanamarie @suniloli @fuseburner

A/n: I’m sorry for not updating in so long! i swear i didn’t forget i’ve just been going through so much in life within the past month and been extremely stressed out so i really don’t get much down time to write.

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“Where were you!?” The loud slam of the door rattled the windows of the house causing Eddie to stop in his tracks. “Where the fuck were ya?!” You threw your arms up, your loud voice aimed at him. Almost two weeks had passed since your last conversation with your brother.

Everything in Alexandria seemed to be going smoothly. Daryl had been venturing out with Aaron, bringing you home little knick-knacks and telling you stories. Maggie and you had grown closer and worked with Deanna to form plans for Alexandria for the upcoming colder seasons. Nellie worked endlessly to prepare to can and store the herbs and gardened food for the winter. Cecilia continued her studies of nursing and medicine, Rosita occasionally keeping her company. It was going about as perfectly as it could. Until the run group went out today and Glenn returned with his clothes stained in blood. And you soon found out that your brother never even showed.

“Aidens dead.”

“About time that prick-“ Eddie couldn’t finish his sentence before you forcefully shoved him back by his chest. “So is Noah.” His face softened, the initial cockiness fading away as he realized the severity of the situation. Noah was kind. And young. Your chest heaved with angry breaths, and your eyes burned with tears, not from sadness but from frustration. Your patience for your brother had come to a boiling point.

“Y/n-“ “For the last year you have indulged yourself in the luxuries of this place. Drank its finest liquors and fucked its prettiest women, all while ignoring your duties.” Eddie scoffed at your words, though you were right, he would not let you stand there and scream his flaws in his face without being told of yours. “I’ve ignored my duties? These past two week you barely been around Y/n!” Disbelief was all you felt towards him, you admitted you’d been busy wrapped up with Daryl but he was your husband. The husband you thought was gone forever.

“I deserve to ignore my duties for a time. I have sacrificed more than you ever have. I’ve cared for all of you, I have raised Lizzie’s boys, all while mourning my husband and being called the cruelest things.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, the pain and frustration clear.

Daryl gently grabbed you by your forearm, whispering, it’s okay come on.

“Where is your sacrifice?!” Hot tears rolled down your flushed cheeks as your voice rose higher than it had been before. Eddie didn’t say anything, not being able to find the words for you, the guilt he begins to hold burdening in his chest. “I trusted you, Eddie.”Eddie heard you scoff your tears down before your footsteps led you away from the porch, into the dark streets of Alexandria, Daryl following. Where you went, he didn't know and he didn't exactly go out of his way to find out.

He didn't spot you until the morning after, the silhouette of you in the sheer curtains of the early morning. Avoiding leaving the house from the front door, he left for the day through the back.

Your foot tapped against the wood of the front porch, your knee bouncing up and down out of habit. Still in your lengthened silky nightgown. The tea you had made yourself earlier had grown cold and sat on the small table beside you. Everyone had made their way gradually out of the house through the last hour, saying good morning and goodbye to you. Jace and Luke were presumably still inside asleep, they weren’t exactly early birds and they had no reason to be.

You thought that until Jace joined you outside, a new fresh cup of tea in hand, for you. Jace awkwardly takes his seat beside you, his eyes adverting yours. It wasn’t like him. Luke had a tendency to be more unsure of himself, avoidant of conflict, and shy, yet sweet in his demeanor. Jace was headstrong and vocal for both himself and Luke, but right now all you saw was hesitation. Had he heard you yelling at Eddie last night? Was there something you had done to make you be deemed as so unapproachable?

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Jace sheepishly laughs, shaking his untamed brown curls from his eyes. You watch the way his hands play with each other, something his mother would also do when she’d be anxious. You gently grasped his hand into yours, stopping him from picking at his fingernails anymore. “I-…I haven’t told you about something that happened because I-“ He paused, “Everyone’s been so happy and I don’t want to ruin it.” You were taken aback by his words, what could he possibly have to say that would ruin how things are going? You sat up in your chair giving his hand a squeeze of comfort, “Tell me. I promise you, you could never ruin anything.”

In spite of Jace’s obvious hesitation, he still felt the incline to tell. “A couple days before you got back from the run, Me and Luke were hanging out in that one house…” You gave him a stern look, you had told them to stay out of that house many times. The kids of Alexandria have converted the attic of what was, a vacant house, into their own personal hang-out spot. But now that house belonged to Rick’s group. “I know we weren’t supposed to be there,” Jace said trying to defend himself, “But I heard people from Rick's group talking and…” He still fidgeted, losing eye contact with you.

“They talked about how they were gonna take Alexandria if they needed to.”

The only emotion that seemed to course through you was confusion. They wouldn’t. They couldn’t. They seemed like good people, Daryl was with them, they had to be good people. You had seen no ill intent, were you blinded by your adoration of your husband? Were you becoming too comfortable, too soft? Your mind spiraled with the possibilities.

“What?” The first emotion was confusion. But now the bitter feeling of betrayal set in your core. “Was Daryl there?” You didn’t intend on sounding so demanding but there was something in you which demanded an answer. “I don’t know.”

You spoke to Jace a little bit longer after that, reassuring him that it would be okay, you’d handle it. After you got yourself ready for the day, you stopped by the armory, confirming with Denise that 2 handguns had gone missing recently. Maybe Eddie had been right, maybe you had ignored your duties just a little too severely. After, you stopped by Deanna’s to check in on her, but to your surprise, she informed you of what Father Gabriel had told her about Rick’s group's supposed demented ways in the world beyond these walls.

There was a part of you that took what he said with a grain of salt. You knew what it took to survive, you’d done equally cruel things before Alexandria and Deanna knew that. But taking someone’s home from them because you see them as “unworthy”, now that’s closer. That's crueler and unreasonable.

Daryl felt your presence before you had even announced yourself, without taking his eyes off the bike, he said hi. "Watcha doin' here?" Now he turned his attention to you, squinting up at you through his overgrown hair. You tilted your head down at him, a barely noticeable smile on your face. You'd ask him to get it trimmed up and out of his eyes but he refused. Daryl scrunched his face when you moved the hair from his eyes, pecking a kiss on his forehead.

"Just going around, checking in with everyone."

You strode around the garage, gazing at the parts lying on the floor. Daryl watched you fidget with a few tools, you didn't have much knowledge of bikes despite Daryl's various rants about them. You had come sat with him a couple times in the past 2 weeks while he worked on the new bike that Aaron had given him. He gave you step-by-step tutorials of what he was doing, you didn't exactly listen but he didn't have to know that. You just liked being in his company, hearing him talk, seeing his hands work.

Usually, you'd sit beside him, handing him tools, sometimes placing your head on his shoulder. If you really chose to distract him, you'd lay your head on his lap and pull him away from his mechanics. He didn't mind, he adored looking down and seeing your head rested on his thigh as the both of you talked about anything.

But today seemed different, you were fidgety and quiet. "You're always like this when there's something on your mind" He cleaned his hands on the rag in his back pocket so he could put his attention completely on you. "Like what?"

He shrugged his shoulders and continued, "Just ain't yourself."

You leaned against the wooden workbench and avoided his eyes as your thoughts began. "I wanna ride with you, on your new bike, see the world and eat only roadkill." Your voice was cheerful, almost optimistic, but Daryl wouldn't let you change the topic. "Stop" "I would never joke about your roadkill" Daryl tilted his head at you and tried to give you a glance of seriousness but the teasing little smile you wore pulled on his heart.

"I'm going over to Rick's after this" You finally admitted, dropping your playful demeanor. You saw the way Daryl faltered as if he was uncomfortable, the way his face contorted. If there was one thing you had to learn when surviving, it was reading people. Watching the way their bodies moved, watching the slightest tick in their faces. "Why?"

"Why not?"

Maybe you were too quick to snap back at Daryl. Maybe you shouldn't be mad at Daryl at all, you'd hoped he had nothing to do with it. The thought of him coming up with plans of betrayal, especially against you, left a sour taste in your mouth. You could almost feel the way his defenses lit up, his head snapping up to you with his eyebrows furrowed. The start of an argument was only but a few more remarks away, both of you ill-tempered and headstrong. You were impulsive and irritable but Daryl could sense within himself that you had become more calculated, just a little bit more cold.

“Ain’t sayin’ not to. Just askin’ why.”

Daryl watched the way you nodded and gazed mindlessly around the garage as if you had something brewing on your tongue. A thousand things lingered on your tongue to be said, but you didn't know which. “Just gonna talk about some things with Alexandria, feels like I haven’t been communicated with lately.” There was an underlining aggression in your tone which Daryl once again chose to brush off and ignore. “You told me about the governor guy, right? He wanted to take the prison?" It was an attempt to ease into the topic, to possibly talk about it without actually saying it. "Yeah? What 'bout that prick?"

"How would you feel if someone tried to take Alexandria from us?... From me?"

Daryl knew this topic wasn't coming up from nowhere. This wasn't something that randomly crossed your mind. You had a purpose behind your words and you had a purpose in bringing up the safety of yourself. The one person he pined to protect the most, especially with the guilt already on his back of not being there to protect you before. It was no secret to anyone that you were Daryl Dixon's soft spot. And that you had Daryl Dixon by the throat. Or rather, his balls.

Daryl seemed to ignore you, turning his attention back to his bike. "Don't think 'bout stuff like that. Hand me that please?" Daryl gestured to a wrench that sat on the workbench you still leaned on. You scoffed and snatched the wrench from the table, deciding to hold it captive, "Don't know why you're avoiding my question" Your voice was thick with sarcasm, "Don't know why yer' askin' stupid questions" Daryl snapped, impatiently waiting for the wrench in your hand.

He watched as your features hardened. The obvious frustration you had been holding in since you’d heard of what was said, rose to the surface. "Get your priorities straight." You tossed the wrench in Daryl's general direction as you walked away, hearing the metal clatter on the ground.

“Fuckin’ dramatic.” Daryl let out a huff of frustration, stomping the ground beneath him, snatching the wrench from the ground. His eyes watched you leave until you were no longer in eye sight. Anew force in your walk, as if you knew exactly where you were going and what to do when you got there. He debated with himself to follow after you or to keep his distance.

Had you been hinting at what he thought, you going to Rick in your agitated state didn’t seem the best plan. But how could you know? Did someone talk? Did somewhere in your mind, you piece it together? Had he known you were in Alexandria, he would’ve never agreed to Rick’s words. He knew the way he acted had in no doubt plagued your mind with more doubt.

“Y/n” You repeated to the young girl sitting on Carl’s lap. Judith repeated a nickname that sounded similar to your name but not quite. A laugh arose in your throat as you repeated yourself, “Y/n”. She repeated the nickname only a tad bit louder and more cheerful this time, a proud smile dimpling her plump cheeks. You smiled at her and scrunched your nose, “okay then.”

"Hey there" Rick greeted obviously not expecting any guests in his home, certainly not you. “Hi Rick” There wasn’t much communication between you and Rick, some small talk, some hello’s or waves when passing by. Most of Rick’s knowledge of you came from Daryl, or Maggie, as did yours. For you to show up announced and alone, there must have been good reason. “I let her in” Carl spoke sensing that your presence wasn’t exactly expected, possibly not even wanted after Noah. “Jace and Luke are at the house, if you wanna join them?”

The young boy looked at his father for approval and was out the door in mere seconds to enjoy the company of his new friends.

Rick laughed at his hastiness, “he uh- he really likes them.” You couldn’t help but smile at this, Carl had spent almost everyday with the boys. Exploring, talkings, perhaps getting into trouble here and there. Carl had practically become an expected guest in the Blackwell home, along with Judith on his hip. “Yeah, it’s uh, really nice for them to have someone besides each other.” You truly hoped however this went, that it didn’t damage the boys friendships.

“Would you like to sit or?”

“Yes, please.”

You tried to sit comfortably in the dining chair, crossing one leg over the other. Though you had been in this house before when it was vacant, it brought a different energy now being filled with people. “Would you like a drink?” Rick held up an empty glass offering, you gave him a polite smile and nod in response. “Think Carol has some left over cookies if you’d like?” As Rick set the glass in front of you, you politely declined. You appreciated him for his attempts at making you comfortable but you weren’t here to be friendly.

“I’m sorry for just showing up,” you apologized, “I just realized i’ve been a bit absent lately and wanted to check in, see if there’s anything I can do.”

Rick nodded, taking a seat at the table with you. Rick couldn’t deny that he had a curiosity with you, there was more to you than what appeared and he knew it. “I’m glad you did, been meaning to talk to you about a few things.” You took a sip from your water and responded with an, oh?

“Ya know Pete's hitting Jessie?"

"Yeah, I do."

You had seen Rick around Jessie frequently since the time he'd gotten here. So had his passion for killing Pete come from love or pure anger, you didn't know.

You watched Rick look at you with a look of shock and maybe a hint of disgust. if you were him, you would've looked at yourself the same. How awful did you sound? How awful did you look in his eyes? Knowing someone was hurting another and doing nothing. "Deanna won't let us do anything, I've tried. She just says that Pete's a surgeon and we can't lose him."

The guilt burdened you ever since Deanna shut you down. You had been in Alexandria a few months when you realized. It was when Jace and Luke were still socialized with the other children. Ron came over for dinner with bruising on his wrist, it didn't take long for you to make the connections.

"She said the same thing to me."

For a second there was an understanding between the both of you but you didn't come here for this. "Is that why the guns are missing from the armory? You're gonna kill Pete?" It was as if Rick froze in his movements before his eyes met yours. His eyes were hard, "I want to."

"You'll do no such thing." Your words were abrupt and stern. You felt in your heart that Rick didn't respect you as a leader, he respected you as Daryl's wife which only added fuel to your fire. Rick obviously wasn't pleased with your answer, had being shut down by both of Alexandria's leaders. "I think you forget your place, Rick." A malice smirk formed on your face, “You’ll never have Alexandria.” An expression crossed his face that you couldn’t quite read as his eyes locked with yours. “Those boys are my children, they’re the only children I’ll ever have. And I will not let they’re home be taken on account of some self righteous stranger. Do you understand?”

Rick saw the fiery intent behind your eyes, beaming to him that you meant every single word you spoke.

“I know you want the best for your family as I do mine. But, if you ever try to take this place from me and mine, I'll have your head."

#daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon series #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl x you #twd #twd x reader #twd fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon / reader #daryl dixon angst #norman reedus #rick grimes

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xwritingdixonx · 1 year

Text

Till Death Do Us Part | Chapter 5 |

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series masterlist

Summary: Y/n and Maggie build a friendship by sharing stories of their lives before the outbreak. But it's abruptly interrupted.

Warnings: language, implied smut, tiny bit of fingering, mentions of domestic violence, alcoholism, very brief mention of suicide

Word count: aprox. 4k

Tags: @catisnotademonn

A/n: Young Mr. and Mrs. Dixon are wild, i love it. Parts written in italics are set before the outbreak/ in flashbacks.

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Wednesday nights were always slow at the bar. Well at least from what you’d picked up on in the past 3 weeks you’d been back in town. You had your fair share of regulars, you know, the guys who come to the bar every single night after work just to avoid going home to whatever miserable marriage they had awaiting them. Big Lou, the bar owner, practically gave you all of the drama regarding every single one of them. Lou was a taller man, buff, with a little bit of a beer belly. Hence the nickname.

Lou always went on and on about well…just about anything.

You were currently standing behind the counter with Lou, cleaning up some glasses. Today he was on one of his rants about your mom. “I’m tellin’ ya Y/n/n, if your mom had picked me over that alcoholic piece of shit,” Lou scoffed dramatically “I coulda treated her so much better.” You scoffed and shook your head, “I bet you could’ve Lou.”

Your attention was pulled by someone taking a seat at the counter, “I got it.” Putting the glass down, tossing the rag over your shoulder, and making your way over to the person you had their back turned to you. “Need anything?” The person didn’t even turn around to acknowledge your presence, just muttered a nah I’m good.

The man had obviously been keeping an eye out for someone, you replied with a simple alright and walked back to Lou. You knew that person, you recognized that voice but for some reason, it just wasn’t clicking for you. “Like I was saying, sweetheart…”

About twenty minutes had passed since you had approached the man. In that time, not once did they ever turn around, keeping their eyes on the door and waiting for someone to walk in. “Here you go” You placed the glass down on the wood counter, startling the man. “Said I ain’t want anythin’” He snapped back finally turning around, when he caught sight of you his face softened, instantly recognizing your feminine features. “I just made you the best goddamn cherry coke you’ll ever have, you better take it.” A smirk formed on your face as you kept eye contact with him, leaning your elbows on the bar counter, “Hi Daryl.”

That night you and Daryl talked for hours, catching up on each other's lives. Daryl didn’t talk about himself much. You knew he didn’t have the best personal life, so you did your best to not pry. You had managed to find out he had been waiting for Merle, who obviously, never showed.

You had mentioned to Daryl that you also worked morning shifts at the local diner, inviting him to come by as if he hadn’t been at that diner hundreds of times before.

This continued for months. Daryl would show up late at night, specifically on weekdays when it was slow. You’d serve him a cherry coke, just like you had the first night, and talk for hours until he’d walk you to your car and say goodnight.

Except for one night. Celia had taken the spare car to go to a friend's, leaving you to walk to and from the bar. The walk there went smoothly. But the walk home was killing you. The heel of your leather boots clicked on the pavement as you made your way down the sidewalk under the dim lampposts. Your body was tired from work, your feet were sore, and the clothes you wore made you feel skimpier than you intended. Usually, you had a spare pair of workout shorts and sneakers to change into when your nights were rough but those were in a duffle bag. In the car.

You could hear the tires against the rocky black pavement beginning to approach, but you chose to ignore it. Hoping they would drive past like everyone else had so far. But you heard the tires slow and saw the headlights glow beside you. Your heartbeat quickened, fearing you’d have to fight off some asshole. Whether that was verbal or physical.

“The hell you doin’ out ‘er girl!”

You stopped dead in your tracks, turning to see Daryl leaning across the passenger seat of his dads old beat up blue truck. A sigh of relief escaped your lips, thanking god it was him and not some perv.

“Celia got the car tonight.”

“Come on” Daryl waved for you to get in, the chuckle you let out was practically music to his ears. He had been so worried when he saw you walking alone, worried someone had tried to mess with you. “It’s okay Daryl. Only got a few more streets.”

That was a damn lie. It definitely wasn’t okay. Your head had been on a swivel since you’d left the bar.

You could hear Daryl scoff, then watched as he reached his whole body over to crack the passenger door open. “Get in” Daryl practically demanded of you. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t kind of like it. “Pretty please” Daryl placed his hands together to beg, the streetlights highlighting his grown out brown shaggy hair and sharp facial features.

You’d be damned if you didn’t get your ass in the car after that.

Lou teased you relentlessly, constantly nagging you about your “boyfriend” or “knight in shining armor”. And you continued to swear it was nothing more than a re blossoming friendship.

At the diner, you remembered his order, remembered what time he’d come, remembered the smile he gave you when you’d come up to his table. He remembered your colorful pens. The little sticker book that was kept in the front pocket of your apron to give out to children. He remembered your sweet words, “hi handsome”, every time you saw him. He remembered how goddamn good you looked in your work attire. The red short sleeve button up shirt, tied at the curve of your waist to give yourself shape. The blue jeans that hugged the curve of your ass perfectly, the cute little apron tied at your hips. You unknowingly drove him mad.

There was no denying the way you danced around each other, the looks, the subtle touches, the flirtatious back-and-forth bantering. You couldn’t. It was just wrong. You grew up with Daryl, he was Eddie’s best friend. He had been like another brother to you. Eddie would be furious with you but at the same time, that man was making you go crazy. Mentally and physically.

When he’d give you a hug hello or goodbye you could feel the warmth that spread over your body. When he’d laugh, your heart would skip a beat. When he’d stand just a little too close, your heart and what was between your legs practically ached for him. You had touched yourself an ungodly amount of times with that man on your mind. Always feeling guilty afterward, as if you had invaded Daryl’s privacy somehow in doing so.

“Hi handsome” You greeted opening the front door of your aunt Claudia’s house. The last thing you expected on this sunny morning was Mr. Dixon standing there, hands in his front pockets, anxiously waiting for you to answer the door. “Hey,” Daryl paused for a second taking in your appearance. He had never seen you look so casual and comfy. Standing in the doorway in an oversized t-shirt, shorts, and fluffy socks on your feet.

“I - I was just checkin’ to make sure you were alright, I went to the diner and you weren’t there.”

God it just wasn’t fair. No one had ever cared for you that much.

“Come in” You stepped out of the doorway to allow enough room for Daryl to make his way through. For a second he seemed unsure before obliging. “Last night these guys came in the bar and really trashed it, me and Rita had to stay late to clean it up. I was just too tired to make it to the diner today.”

You hoped your explanation gave Daryl some sort of peace of mind.

Daryl simply nodded at you, his eyes looking around the familiar home. “Don’t be scared. Celia’s at her classes and Claudia’s at work.” If Daryl had stopped by the diner that obviously meant he was hungry. Knowing Daryl, when he saw you weren’t there he turned around and left. “Come on, I’ll cook something for you” You made your way down the hall, back to the kitchen ignoring Daryl’s, “Nah it’s alright.”

You loved cooking. It gave you a piece of mind. You loved seeing the flavors come together, loved the smell, loved people’s reaction to it. You especially loved cooking in your Aunt Claudia’s kitchen. Claudia’s house in general was everything you wanted. It was built in the late ’60s and she kept all of its characteristics. The same yellow corded house phone mounted on the wall. There was a window above the sink, fit with sheer curtains, and flowers embroidered on them. The door that led to the backyard had the same matching curtains. Brown wood kitchen cabinets, full of all her favorite cups, plates, and bowls.

She kept her vintage Pyrex, which she had inherited from her mother, on top of the cabinets for display. There were cookbooks, spices, plants, and herbs all on their separate shelves. There was a wide-open door way that led from the kitchen to the dining room. The dining table always had placemats and a pot of flowers in the middle.

In the 21 years you had been alive, you never saw that vase empty. There were always gorgeous flowers sitting in it. Since you had come to stay, Claudia made sure it was Lillies, knowing those were your favorite.

“Hasn’t changed much” Daryl commented, glancing around the room as he leaned back against the far counter. Everything was so familiar to him, the floors he walked, the decorations, the pictures on the wall. “No not at all” You looked around the kitchen, “I want a home like this.”

Daryl turned his eyes to you, watching as you really took in your surroundings. Which you had done so many times in these past few months. Remembering every little detail about the home you grew up in. “Something like this but maybe smaller, cozy enough for just me and maybe someone else.”

The thought of you making a home with someone else made his chest ache. When he thought about your cozy home, he saw himself there with you. Daryl watched as you broke yourself from your thoughts, giving him a smile and grabbing a pan that was hanging from the wall.

“I want a home. Not a house, you know?”

Daryl did know. This felt like a home. Your family always made him feel at home. Where he grew up, with his drunken father, that was just a house. Just some empty box made up of wood and drywall.

“Yeah I do.”

You turned back at Daryl’s sad tone of voice, “i’m sorry D.” For a second you were scared your comment was ignorant, forgetting Daryl’s home life. You never saw him as that, you never saw him as the boy that was just abused. You saw Daryl.

“When you find yer home, let m’know. I’ll fix anything for ya.”

Daryl felt relief at the way your lips formed a smile and you laughed. “Yeah? Did I just score myself a free handyman?”

Daryl made most of his money now by helping people around town. He’d fix just about anything. But he got the most excitement when he’d get someone asking if he could take a look at their motorcycle. That was truly his passion, he just didn’t know how to pursue it.

“Who said it was free?”

The way you walked over to him felt more daunting than it was, leaning against the counter next to him. You were closer than you should’ve been, your thigh brushing his, “How about, you live there with me. Will that make it free?” Daryl wasn’t sure what your intentions behind your words were. We’re you asking him to be your roommate? We’re you asking for more?

You changed your position from beside him, to in front of him, putting one leg in between his. “Or do I have to do other things to make it free?” Daryl didn’t know where your boldness was coming from. And truth be told, neither did you. It was as if your body knew what it wanted and you were allowing it to take it.

“Y/n” Daryl’s head lowered, not being able to look at you. He didn’t want you to be another one night stand, like Merle had pressured him into times before. He liked you. He truly did. And he’d hate himself forever if he somehow messed up. “We can’t. Eddie’ll kill me.” You used one hand to rest against his cheek, forcing him to look up at you, “Fuck Eddie.”

You watched as Daryl scoffed and shook his head, “Y/n-“ “I want you.” Your words came out so breathy, yet firm and pleading.

“I’m not a child anymore.“ You could still see the hesitation on his face but not once did he pull away from your touch. Not once did he even make an attempt to make it stop. Daryl impulsively leant down, his lips forcefully meeting yours. The way your lips moved together was full of impatient longing and neediness.

You gripped the gray fabric of his t-shirt as his hands slid up your plump thighs. He slipped his hands under the fabric of your shorts, feeling nothing but the bare skin of your hipbones. His thumb had slipped a little too far as he felt the stubble of your pubic hair.

It was almost as if he moaned as the realization hit him that you had nothing on underneath your shorts. “You can touch me.” Daryl placed his forehead onto yours, stopping his hands from roaming. Though, they were still placed firmly on your hips, his thumbs practically digging into your hipbones. Holding you where you stood. He softly shook his head, repeating his words, “Eddie’s gonna kill me.”

Truthfully you didn’t give a shit about your brother, right now all you cared about was Daryl. You wanted him. You’d wanted him since that first night in the bar. You took one of his hands from its place on your hip and moved it to the elastic of your shorts, gliding his hand underneath. His index finger slid through the wetness of your heat causing a whimper to leave your lips.

It was as if with that noise and truly feeling you, all his worries had disappeared as he continued to pleasure you. “You wanna really make Eddie mad?” You were testing the waters, seeing how far gone is worries were. Your voice was breathy and slick, “fuck me, make me yours, and eventually…” You grabbed Daryl by his jawline forcing his desirable eyes to look into yours. “…make me your wife.”

You and Maggie stood in the kitchen of your home cleaning the dishes from the morning breakfast. Aaron had come over to fetch Daryl, you knew why. Deanna had talked to you this morning about the job. You couldn’t say you were too happy about it, hating the idea of Daryl being out there constantly with Aaron. As if he hadn’t been away from you long enough in those years. But you knew Daryl couldn’t be trapped in these walls, it would drive him crazy.

You listened to Maggie as she talked about her childhood on the farm. She told you about Beth. She talked about her father, Hershel. They both seemed like good people. You could see the way she smiled when she talked about them but her eyes were sad. “I loved my daddy’s farm but in the summer? It was awful, so hot and sticky” She shook her head and laughed and you laughed with her. “My aunts house was the same way! And they refused to put those AC units in because they said it ran the electricity too high”

It felt freeing to laugh and talk about life before the outbreak. As Maggie listened to you talk with a joyful smile on your face, she couldn’t help but feel guilty. Get to know her. We’re gonna need her. Ricks words sat in the back of her mind, as if you were just some pawn in his mission of taking Alexandria.

“So you lived with your aunt?” Maggie’s sweet southern tone asked as she dried a plate. “Yeah, my mom moved us in after my aunts husband died. She couldn’t afford to pay the bills alone and it wasn’t like my mom was happy where she was so..” You were young then, the memories of you old house weren’t too vivid but you did remember your father never made it a welcoming home. “Your daddy didn’t care?”

You couldn’t help but scoff at her words, hoping she didn’t take offense, “My daddy was a truck driver, which meant he was never home and he had as many women in as many other states as he wanted.” You placed the stack of plates into the cabinet and turned back to Maggie letting out a sigh. “Imma make us drinks. Then we’re gonna sit outside and talk all we want.”

Once you were comfortably sat in the porch chairs you continued talking. “My dad always treated us kids good. Always brought us home gifts from the states he’d go to, played with us when he was there, sent my mom money for us but that was about it.”

The sunny sky, the birds chirping, and slight breeze on your skin made you feel calm, made you feel comfortable enough to tell what was practically a stranger, anything you goddamn wanted.

“I remember one time he was home and he was watching the baseball game, my mom started vacuuming and he picked up the vacuum and threw it outside, screaming at her that there was no vacuuming when the game was on.” You could see the sympathy etched on Maggie’s features. “So my mom picked up the tv,” You paused to smile and shake your head, “and threw it outside.”

“She did not”

“She did! I still don’t know how she did it.”

You always admired your mother. She was nothing short of badass and took no shit from anyone, including your alcoholic father. And she taught every single one of her kids to be the same.

“My aunt Claudia’s husband killed himself.” Despite you being so young, you still remembered that day. Claudia showed up at your door, sobbing and talking in tongues, your mother instructed you and Nellie to take little Cecilia and go play. “He was a real good guy. They had been together since high school. He bought Claudia the house. She used to tell me stories about how when she was a girl, her and my mom would ride their bikes by the house and the older couple who lived there used to give them oranges from their tree. So when they passed and it was on the market, he got it for her.”

You always wanted a love like that. Not what your father and mother had. You wanted to be adored, you wanted someone who loved you so much they bought you an entire fucking house. And you got that. Daryl would buy build you 5 houses if that’s what you wanted.

“My mom called my dad one day, told him she was selling the house and we were moving in with Claudia and he just said okay.” In a way, it made you feel neglected, forgotten about, so easily pushed to the side. He loved the idea of not having a responsibility to come home to. Because that’s exactly what a wife and kids were to him. A chore, a responsibility, a hassle.

You could see Maggie take a sip from her cup and shake her head. “We lived at Claudia’s basically our whole lives until my mom moved us to Virginia to live with her boyfriend.” You were 14 when you moved and you absolutely despised your mother for it. You loved living with Claudia, that was your home. You lost your friends, you lost your family, and most of all you lost Lizzie.

Lizzie was 19. She and Tommy already had their own apartment about 2 hours away from Claudia’s, along with a one-year-old, brown-haired little boy. Jace.

“My mom never divorced my dad out of spite. He could never marry another woman and when he died, she’d get the money.”

Now, the guilt that sat on Maggie’s chest, was heavier. She related to you more than she’d like to admit. You had both lost a sister. Both grew up knowing they never wanted a love like the image their parents created. Both with a deep love for their family.

“We’re lucky. I got Glenn, you got Daryl. Nothing like our parents, right?”

You hummed Maggie a response as your foot tapped the hard wood on the porch, the condensation from your glass making your hand wet.

“Y/n!” You heard Nellie yelling for you before she even came into view, immediately getting you out of your chair. Nellie was out of breath when she met you at the bottom of the stairs, “there’s something going on at the gate.” You muttered a fuck before taking off in that direction, Maggie and Nellie following behind you.

Glenn and Aiden were face-to-face, looking like they were about to rip out the other's throat. Your feet came to a slow stop beside Daryl as he seemed to be watching, waiting for something to start. "Don't" You whispered to him, Daryl would. He'd jump in if he needed to and you knew it. He'd gotten in his fair share of fights, especially when he'd fight to defend you from some asshole that talked about you inappropriately. Oh if only he knew what people said about you now.

"Why'd you let these people in?" Aiden turned to ask Deanna, who had also come upon the scene. Aiden glared at you, throwing his hand in the air and pointing at you, "Weren't they enough?" You took a step forward, "Because it's people like us who actually know what we're doing out there" Glenn snapped in defense. Before you knew it, Aiden was on his ass with one hit. Before it could escalate you took the opportunity to step between the two men, keeping an arm's length between. Maggie had come to lead Glenn away, Nellie offered Aiden a hand, an action that was too kind for you to do. He shoved it away, pushing himself from the concrete and angrily stomping away.

"What whore did you go see instead of doing your job?" Eddie didn't expect to be met with your aggressive tone and insults as he stepped foot onto the porch of his family's home. But there you were, sitting in the chill of the night air, ready to rip his head off. "Glenn, Tara, and Noah were with you." You stepped up from your seat, standing but a few feet from him now.

"So why were they with Aiden, outside the walls?" Eddie let out an exaggerated sigh, his shoulders slumping. "I just passed them off. They went to see the paths they take, it's not a big deal. It wasn't a real run." You couldn't help but let out a giggle of disbelief at his blindness and ignorance. "Do you know what they told me?"

"Aiden and Nicholas caught an infected to…" You sighed trying to find the words because you yourself didn't know what to say when Glenn told you. "To torture it and torment it for what happened to their friends on that run." It was then, Eddie finally met your eyes "What?" You nodded your head at him, his mouth was agape to say words but nothing came as he racked his brain. "I need you to pull your head out of your ass and out from these women's legs."

Before Eddie could say anything in protest, you continued, "No more separate run groups. It's one group now and you're in charge so please don't fuck this up."

#daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon series #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #the walking dead daryl #daryl x you #twd

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xwritingdixonx · 1 year

Text

Till Death Do Us Part | Chapter 4 |

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series masterlist

Summary: The Georgian group and the Blackwell family have their first interaction together over breakfast.

Warnings: descriptions of a physical fight, death / accidental murder, language

Word count: aprox. 4k

Tags: @fuseburner @catisnotademonn

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The gravel underneath your feet crunched as you crouched down behind the brick building. Tommy was close behind you.

You were on your way back to Alexandria when you passed a shopping strip where you decided to grab any more last-minute supplies. There was a pharmacy, a couple sketchy-looking restaurants, and a liquor store.

The plan was to park the trucks a mile or so away, go scavenge the shopping center, then make your way back to the trucks with what you'd found. Henry stayed back with the trucks to make sure they were protected while the rest of you made the walk to the stores. It all went smoothly. Until, when you got back to the trucks, Eddie had forgotten his pack at one of the shops you'd cleared.

After you had a few remarks to say in response, he went back for it. He should've been back within 20 minutes max but when he didn't return, you and Tommy went to look for him. And that's where you had seen Eddie on his knees, hands in the air, a lady with long brown hair pointing a gun at him. Her clothes were raggedy and stained with dirt. She was holding his pack in her other hand. He was trying to reason with her but you were too far to hear what he was saying.

"I'm gonna go around back." You whispered back to Tommy, "Cut through the pharmacy and just grab her." You could see from the look he gave you that he didn't like that idea, "It's one girl, I got this."

You slipped through the back door of the pharmacy, slipping through the aisles to make your way to the front. The sound of glass crunching under your foot makes your body recoil. Fuck. Whatever voices you heard, fell silent. It all happened so fast, she stormed into the pharmacy and you had a choice to hide now, fight later. Or just get it over with.

You grabbed her, pointing the gun to the ceiling. With her free hand, she threw a punch which hit you perfectly in the jaw. It wasn't a hard punch, you'd been hit harder but it was the warm blood you felt on your tongue and the familiar taste that took you a back. You wrestled her for the gun and once you felt your finger slip into the familiarity of the trigger, you pulled.

It was when she fell to the ground, blood pooling beneath her did you realize the small bump of her stomach.

It was as if your feet took a few steps back on their own and your brain stuttered as it tried to process what you did. Your hands trembled, gun still in hand and your ears fell quiet. Only a buzzing noise remains. You understood now, what Eddie was trying to do, he was reasoning with her, he was trying to get her to come back to Alexandria.

You brought your hand up to pull the neck of your shirt off your throat as the nausea rose in your throat. Your hands fell to your knees as your chest heaved with short breaths. Tommy rushed into the pharmacy to makre sure you were okay from the sound of the gunshot. "Y/n, Y/n"

"Y/n?" Daryl came around the corner, wandering into the kitchen looking for you. You looked up from your spot at the counter chopping onions and greeted him with a warm smile and a sweet goodmorning. Stood around the kitchen with you was Cecilia and the boys.

“What are y’all doin’?” Cecilia stood at the kitchen island, kneading a ball of dough, folding it in and out of itself. There was a basket of potatoes, still with dried dirt on them, sitting next to the kitchen sink. Luke was washing them, then passing them off to Jace to be cut into cubes. There was a large pan sitting on the stove, the fire underneath warming the oil within. You used your index finger to clean each side of your knife, the chopped onions that remained on it falling on top of the already existent pile.

“Celia” You spoke wiping your hands from the onion juices onto a kitchen towel, “take this over for me please.” Celia nodded at you and took the cutting board, swiping the onions into the hot pan. “Come” you murmured to Daryl as you walked by, taking him by his hand, leading him down the hall to the large sliding glass doors which led to the back yard. The sun was bright in the baby blue sky, it’s beams radiating warmth on your skin.

The backyard looked radiant in the early morning. The grass was slightly overgrown, random weeds and flowers taking a home there. The porch was a reasonable size. On one end there was a fireplace that looked to be never lit, circled with outdoor seating. The other end bore a small picnic bench, in the middle of it was a picnic basket that was full of bright oranges, dark green leaves still attached. All four corners of the porch held large pots full of flowers.

In the far left corner of the backyard there was a wooden chicken coop. In the right corner, there was a small orange tree, the dark leaves decorated with orange hues. Next to the tree, lining the entire right side fence, was a large garden full of more plants. But not any plants, these were herbs for the kitchen. Daryl could practically smell the lavender and mint from his spot on the porch. Then there was a clothes line, empty at the moment. And lastly four large wooden planter boxes, all flourished with different fruits and veggies. Written on the wood was what grew in them.

Nellie was knelt down at one, gloves covering her hands from the dirt. When she heard the doors slide open she turned to wave and smile, shielding her eyes from the sun as she said good-morning to Daryl and briefly asking him how he slept. “Deanna’s having a little meeting at the church, after we’ll have breakfast. Invite your group.” You instructed Daryl, arms crossed over your chest. He simply nodded at you, catching his bottom lip to gently chew on, “What’s wrong handsome?”

He was anxious. Anxious for you to meet his group, for them to meet you. He hadn’t mentioned you, not once, and to say he felt guilty would be an understatement. It was as if he never claimed you, was never proud of you, which was the farthest from the truth. You were the one thing Daryl was proudest of even if he felt like he never deserved it, always saying you were too good for him, too pretty, too kind. He wasn’t worried about them liking you, there was no way in hell they wouldn’t. He was worried about you liking them. Your opinion mattered most to him but if for some reason your feelings were off, he’d be torn.

But you lived in the same community now. You were no longer thousands of miles away, states away, potentially dead. You were closer than ever, a street over to be exact.

Rick had most likely already told them, considering Daryl didn’t return to the shared house last night.

His shoulders shrugged, mumbling a i don’t know, to you. You smiled at you and nudged him with your elbow, “i’m not mad at you, ya know that ?” You caught his eye, a hint of seriousness there. Daryl furrowed his eyebrows together as if he didn’t know what you were hinting, “For leaving, for not looking, for it being so long, for…..anything.” A heavy sigh escaped your lips, as if you yourself were coming to terms with forgiving him. Daryl didn’t seem to waste a second as he wrapped you softly in his arms, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder. “M’sorry”

You rubbed a hand down his back, “I know.” You could’ve stayed like that, you could’ve fallen asleep like that, almost as if you were swaying in his arms. You gave him a hard pat on the back and slipped away, “Alright go, I got potatoes to get back to”

Daryl slipped his way into the yellow front door of the shared group home. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to do, hide ? Slip past everyone ? “Good-morning” That thick southern drawl disrupted Daryl practically freezing him in his boots. Daryl stood up straight, facing Rick and the rest of the group who all wore knowing yet curious grins on their faces. It felt as if Daryl was a teenager who’d snuck out the night before and was now busted by his parents, “Morning.”

There was a second of awkward silence as no one knew exactly what to say or do. There were a thousand questions that could be asked but the walls Daryl had built still remained and no one wanted to pry. Carol on the other hand, didn't seem to mind "Where is she?" Daryl shifted on his feet "At her place." Carol waited for more than just that, "Okayyy so..." Carol had that typical awaiting smile on her face, poking Daryl more. "There's uh..." Daryl scratched the back of his neck, it was as if he didn't know what to do with himself, "....a meetin' at the church, we're supposed to go."

"Alright," Rick bounced a still sleepy Judith on his hip, "Everyone get ready, leave Daryl alone."

The group got ready, attempting their best to look presentable yet comfortable in their new environment. They weren't sure what they expected from you or your group. Rick had mentioned to them that it looked like you were with a large group, seeing the house size and the other people that had stood with you on the porch the day before. Were you stuck up, clean, and polished like the rest of the Alexandrians? Or were you more like them?

On your walk to the church, you grabbed Tommy to come with you. You refused to go in there alone and whoever you asked to come with you, represented you, represented your family. And who better than the tall, buff, texan man himself? “Ya nervous?” Tommy asked as the small building came into view, you thought to yourself, were you? You weren’t until Tommy mentioned it, realizing you were walking into a room full of strangers. Practically sitting there waiting to judge you for who you were. “Well now I am.”

The wood doors to the small brick building creaked open, distributing whatever Deanna was saying. Both yours and Tommy’s boots were heavy on the wood floor as you walked down the narrow aisle. Eyes were instantly on you. The way your long hair softly flowed with each of your steps, the way your arms fell at your side, the sway in your walk, like you knew where you were going and who you were.

The black jeans you wore hugged your curves perfectly. Your black shirt was fitted to your body, with a completely open back. The angel wings tattooed there on show. And for a second as you were turned around taking those 2 steps up onto the lifted floor, your back and Daryl’s back aligned perfectly and it made sense as to why Daryl picked up that angel winged vest at the beginning.

The silver accents of your jewelry complimented your all black outfit perfectly. Like those rich victorian people who decorated themselves in gold and pearls to show off their wealth. There should've been a crown on your head becasue had royalty existed now, it would be you. The way you carried yourself, the way you stood next to Deanna. Your hands intertwined, your chest broad and proud, paired with your toned arms, and your height. You standing next to Deanna made her look so much smaller than she was, in height and in leadership.

“How’s it going?” Deanna whispered to you, “Good” you replied giving her a reassuring smile and a wink. She smiled at you before turning back to the room, “This is Y/n, Y/n Blackwell…..my right hand.” She said that sentence with pride and maybe a hint of arrogance, your eyes glanced over at Tommy who raised his eyebrows at you with a grin. "And this is Tommy" Tommy threw up a hand to say hello, Deanna continued to speak. “I think we’ve come up with perfect jobs for everyone.” Deanna pulled out one of those little memo pads that she seemed to love so much and flipped it open to a page. “Okay so” Despite Deanna speaking, you could feel the eyes that still lingered on you.

It wasn’t in a judging way. More admirable. In awe.

"Sasha and Rosita you're gonna be joining the watch and gate crew, Tommy's in charge of that."

"Abraham you'll be joining the constrution crew, when you're not doing that you can help out on watch as well" As Deanna spoke you looked at each person she spoke to, remembering names and faces.

"Glenn, Tara, and Noah you'll be joining the run group. My son Aiden helps with that, as does Y/n's brother, Eddie"

"Carol's gonna help out in the pantry" An act. You had looked at Carol for a second and that's all you saw. The sweet smile, clean clothes, and wave she gave you. At this point she was topping the normal Alexandrian's.

"Maggie you'll be working with Y/n and I. When you're not, you'll be helping Y/n's sister, Nellie, with the farming.

"And lastly, Rick and Michonne. We're gonna call you 'patrol'. Henry, Tommy's brother, has been doing it himself. You make sure everything's safe, everyone's safe. If something happens, you bring it to myself or Y/n."

There was a commom theme in the jobs that Deanna assigned. Each person who helped, ran, controlled something within Alexandria all connected to you. There was no way it was a coincedence and Rick took note.

Your eyes met Daryls, who sat in the front row next to Tommy. He could see the way the corners of your lips almost formed a smile but you caught yourself before it could. Daryl looked at you deeply, eyes soft, returning your same smile. "Y/n, anything you wanna add?" Deanna snapped you from your gaze, as if she had caught you standing there gawking at your husband. "Uhm, we've prepared a breakfast over at the gazebo if anyone would like to join." You hoped you sounded as welcoming as you intended to.

"You can get back to it you need to, I'll finish up here and send them your way." Deanna reassured you, you gladly accepted her offer. Nudging your head at Tommy to come with you. When you walked passed Daryl you brushed your hand over his shoulder, it was a subtle touch but it didn't go unnoticed by some, especially not Daryl.

As the group approached the large wooden gazebo, Daryl in lead, the sight before them could only be described as magical. The greenery and sunshine added to the affect. Four wooden picnic tables were pushed together and aligned to create one large table. There were 2 extra wooden chairs put at the heads of the table to complete the “dining table”. Pushed to the edge of the gazebo was a small wood table that held 2 coffee pots. One had hot black coffee, the other held steaming hot water. As well as a rectangular wicker basket that was piled up with random coffee cups. And three large mason jars lined up in a row. One was full of honey, the other full of sugar, and the last was full of random tea bags.

The long picnic table was full of plates, utensils, and glasses. The benches all had a different blanket that was folded long ways for extra cushion against the rough wood. Daryl watched you laugh at whatever Celia and Nellie had said to you, wide smiles on their faces as well. You and Nellie’s smiles were both wide, joyful, and lit up your whole face. Daryl watched you put down 2 glass pitchers, one full of plain water and the other full of what looked to be orange juice.

Your eyes caught Daryl’s and you waved him over, the rest of his group following. “You think this is gonna go okay?” Celia asked, hopping down from where she sat on top of the table. “Sure as shit hope so” Tommy muttered.

Nellie greeted the group with a high-pitched ‘Hi’ and a wide smile on her face. “Carl” Jace said happily as he trotted up to the boy, Luke close behind. It made you happy. To see them have a friend beside each other, to see them so happily greet their new friend and begin talking with smiles on their faces. They had tried to become friends with the kids already in Alexandria but the other parents always pulled their children away. Tommy had gone over to Carl and Rick to say hello, introducing himself as Jace and Luke’s father. The 3 boys looked like 3 peas in a pod. All paler completions, brown shaggy hair, though Jace and Luke’s was much curlier than Carl’s. They hadn’t known each other for long, 4 days at most, but they already seemed to have formed a bond.

"Hey" Daryl greeted you, "Hi" You took a step closer to him, standing closer to him than anyone ever has. "Deanna didn't give me no job" Daryl almost seemed disappointed as if he had been left out, "I got a job for you" For a second Daryl thought you were talking about yourself with the way you softly put your hand on his upper arm, but you roughly patted his arm, "Have breakfast with your family." He scoffed as he followed you, "Bout lunch time now"

He could hear you chuckle as you walked over to your seat. Almost everyone had already picked seats, besides a few others that were checking out the table with tea and coffee. You took one of the wooden chairs at the head of the table, before you could seat yourself, Daryl was behind the chair. Pulling it out and pushing it in for you before taking a seat on the bench to the right of you.

It seemed as if everyone was too intimated to take anything from the table in front of them. As if they were scared to even touch the pitcher of water. "You can take whatever you want, there's enough for everyone." Nellie reassured, adding things to her own plate. Despite the hesitation still being there, they began to fill their plates with food. "Is that bacon?" Carl abruptly said, maybe a tad bit louder than he meant for it to be. You couldn't help but laugh a little, "Yeah, Tommy found a pig a little big ago and we've kept most of it in the freezer"

None of you were exactly butchers, resulting in the bacon being poorly cut unlike how it used to be in the grocery stores. But it smelled like bacon, tasted like bacon, so bacon was bacon.

"There's some eggs in that one there but not too many, the chickens didn't lay shit this season" You motioned to the small red dutch oven that still had its lid on. The whole meal that laid out on the table was nothing short of shocking, regardless if there was enough scrambled eggs for everyone. There was a large white platter with floral designs around the edge, piled high with biscuits. Two large mason jars sat near them, one full of what looked to be strawberry jam. The other was a deep reddish purple, made from wildberries.

Your jam and your biscuits were always Daryl's favorite so you weren't surprised when he had 3 of them, smothered in jam on his plate.

There was another large pot full of well-seasoned, perfectly cooked, breakfast potatoes. And lastly there was the wicker basket, that had what remained of the oranges, after you had made orange juice.

Once everyone's hesitation wore off, conversations stemming from all different directions filled the air. You talked to Daryl and Tommy who sat on either side of you. "I hate to be the one to do it" Everyone's conversation was cut short by a femnine voice, Carol. You adverted your attention to her as you heard Daryl mutter a, please don't, under his breath. "But, how did you two meet?" For what felt like the fifth time today, eyes were once again on you.

You always hated that question. You weren't sure how people would react, you had heard your fair share of insults and questionable looks from people before. "Uhm, it's a little complicated I guess? D was Eddie's best friend growing up so we kinda grew up together." It wasn't too difficult to notice you and Daryl's age gap, which is why people turned an eye.

Your mom raised Daryl as if he was her own. Daryl never minded it, he actually preferred it, needing an escape from his abusive home. So Daryl was always there. But he was always there six years ahead of you.

"My mom moved us from Georgia to Virginia when I was fourteen and when I was twenty-one I went back to Georgia...that's where we met up again."

After breakfast, Maggie was the only one who stayed behind offering to help you clean up. There wasn't a plate left on the table that wasn't practically licked clean. Everyone else had separated into groups, going about their day with their full tummies, taking a tour of their new jobs and responsibilities. Daryl stayed back to help as well. But at the moment he was already on his way back to your home with as many dishes as he could carry.

You could tell Maggie was trying the most out of anyone in the new group. Especially with you. "The food was amazing" Maggie commented picking up all the silverware and tossing them into a basket. You had always been complimented on your cooking but that didn't mean you didn't appreciate some attention here and there. "Did you go to school for it?"

You shook your head at her and sighed, "Daryl always told me to. But I just always felt like if I did it as a job, I'd end up hatin' it." Maggie nodded at you with an understanding look in her eyes.

"The biscuits and jam were the best I ever had. I think they were better than my mama's" You couldn't help but allow a smile to form on your lips, "I've heard that more times than you'd think" You filled an old plastic laundry basket with the dirty dishes to haul back to your home, it was far easier to carry that way. "I can give you a jar of jam if you'd like." You offered, you could see Maggie begin to protest and you waved a hand at her. "I have more than enough in my pantry, won't starve without just one."

A silence settled over the two of you as you continued to clean but you could see the small smirk that lingered on Maggie's face. "Ya know" Maggie stopped cleaning and stood up straight, balancing the basket on her hip causing you to do the same. "You seem like a really good person." You movements stopped at her words. You knew deep down, you weren't. Sure you were kind and generous sometimes but after the things you did, how could you be considered a good person? You shook your head at her, "You don't know me."

"I don't need to."

#daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon series #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #the walking dead daryl #daryl x you #twd #daryl dixon #daryl dixion x reader #the walking dead series #daryl dixon angst

116 notes · View notes

xwritingdixonx · 1 year

Text

Till Death Do Us Part | Chapter 3 |

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series masterlist

Summary: You and Daryl share stories of the life you spent apart but you can't bring yourself to tell him the complete truth afraid of what he'll think of you. So instead you tell your part through little white lies.

Warnings: language, grief, implied suicide, smut implied towards end, use of cigarettes

Word count: aprox. 2.2k

Tags: @onlyheretoread2 @catisnotademonn

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The rest of that evening was spent with the rest of the group, sitting around eating at the dinner table. You didn't exactly give everyone the big dinner you promised but for now, spaghetti would have to be big enough. Daryl hadn't left your side for a second, asking if you needed help with dinner, sitting beside you at the table, and you could always feel his eyes lingering.

"And this is mine" You cracked open the room to your bedroom allowing Daryl to enter. He entered slowly his eyes darting across the room trying to look at every detail he could to obtain some sort of knowledge of the life you lived without him. You seemed to have kept your character though. Your bed was made nicely from the last time you slept in it. Even your bed sheets weren't the typical boring beige sheets that every Alexandrian had in their home. Your comforter was a shade of forest green along with your pillowcases and Daryl could see the off-white floral sheets poking out from underneath. The nightstand from the side of the bed you slept on had a small handheld photo album along with a lamp. The other nightstand was seemingly empty, the only thing sitting there was an empty glass and a small vase of flowers.

There was what seemed to be "your corner". Daryl remembered, you always had your corner. The area now consisted of a dark green lounge chair that had a matching footstool, and a short wooden bookshelf full of books, candles sitting on top. Your dresser sat close by, your jewelry box sat atop it along with your hairbrush, a mirror hanging directly above. Your walls weren't disappointing either containing different shades of wood-stained frames full of all different types of art or family photos. There were a few plants here and there to make your room feel more lively.

"Sure as shit didn't lose any of yer' decoratin' skills" Daryl commented turning back to see you taking a seat on the edge of the bed. You took a glance around your room and smiled, "Yeah I try." Daryl was about to take a seat beside you before Luke's figure appeared in the doorway. "Uncle Daryl I-" "No no no" Tommy's voice disrupted him putting his arm around him and pulling him from the doorway "But I wanna talk to Aunt Y/n and-" "Nope, goodnight" Tommy reached for the doorknob and gave you a smile and a wink before muttering a goodnight.

You softly laughed and shook your head, "We're gonna have to deadbolt the door." Daryl let out a small chuckle before engulfing you in his muscular arms practically dragging you down to the plush bed with him. You snuggled into his chest giving him one good tight squeeze. The both of you stayed like that for a second relishing in the presence of the other. "How'd ya score this room?"

You had, what seemed to be, the biggest room in the house. You had your own bathroom attached and a small walk-in closet not to mention the room already being spacious enough. "One really intense Monopoly game" Daryl scoffed at your response and pulled away to look at you, "Yer' jokin'?" You shook your head at him with a cheesy smirk cheesy on your face, "No." You shrugged your shoulders and rolled out of his grip "Maybe that's when Eddie started to hate me" You got up from the bed, making your way to the bathroom.

Daryl let out a sigh, sitting up from his own position. He noticed the way you and Eddie danced around each other, never acknowledging the other. When one would talk it was almost as if the other turned their ears off from listening.

He waited for you to come back from brushing your teeth and combing your hair to ask any more questions. When you did come back you were only wearing your tank top and underwear, folding your jeans back up and away. Daryl shouldn't have been surprised, this was how you normally went to bed, but he just couldn't help but stare. You were more muscular and toned than he last remembered, especially in your arms. But you still kept your soft curves and held a fuller tummy from being well-fed in Alexandria.

He took note of the scars that lingered all around your body. Maybe he would ask you about them later.

You tossed a t-shirt at him from the bottom drawer of the dresser, "Here". But it wasn't any t-shirt, it was his t-shirt from before. You could read Daryl's confused expression as he glanced down at it in his hands. "We took a trip back home after a few months here. We mainly went back for Mom and Dan but." You shrugged your shoulders with a sad smile on your face, sitting back down beside him.

You remembered that trip. Deanna had Aaron go with you because she didn't fully trust your group yet but she respected your wish of trying to find your family.

The door to what once was your mother's and stepfather's home in Virginia. Dan's house was more isolated, pushed back down a long driveway in the woods. It didn't look to have been raided or broken into yet. "Mom?" You called out, still keeping your hand on the gun holster on your hip, just in case. You, Eddie, and Nellie piled into the house as Aaron waited outside by the car. The three slowly made their way around the house, trying to find any form of life. It looked the same as it did the last you remembered it. It was a bigger house, bigger than your original family home in Georgia. Dan was a lawyer, enough said.

"Y/n" Nellie called your name from the other side of the house, you made your way through the kitchen to the attached dining room. The same dining table you had endless dinners at. Christmas, Thanksgiving. Pouring out your Halloween candy. First, it was you and Nellie, then it became Jace and Luke. The same table you told everyone Daryl had proposed.

The only thing that lingered there now, besides memories, was a folded-up piece of paper. You could tell by the saddened faces that they had already read it, handing it off to you.

The letter read as followed: " To my beautiful children, please take care of each other. I don't know where you are but I hope you're together. If you're here -you're here if you're reading this. Take what you need. Take it all. The pantry and cabinets should be full, that's the way we left them. Dan left the guns in the garage. To Eddie, stop being so scared of love. You could learn a few things from Eleanor. To Elizabeth, take care of those sweet boys, don't let them turn like the rest of these people. To Y/n, keep your charm, your pride, and keep D. He's a good one. I left you all my cookbooks. To sweet Eleanor, never stop loving, I've always admired your persistent heart. Don't come into the master bedroom, it's gonna be a sight. I love you. Dan says he loves you too.

-Winny + Dan. (Mom and Dad) "

"The day everything happened, Lizzy came and picked everyone up and was going to drop us off at this safe zone area." All of you had to squeeze into Lizzy's minivan along with bags of everyone's belongings. You remembered Eddie yelling at Lizzy about how she had to go back for Mom and she yelled back saying there wasn't room and that she'd drop everyone off and then go back.

She didn't realize that once you were in the safe zone, you couldn't leave. Soon after they shipped the lot of you off to a stadium in Philadelphia that was being turned into a liveable safe area for people. And that's where you remained for the first year and a half in this new world.

"Why'd ya leave?"

You could give him a thousand reasons, tell him all the stories you had about the cruelty that took place among those walls. Ideally, it sounded like a perfect community, and at first, it was. It was secure and had reliable food sources. But people in power get too big of heads. You debated if you should tell Daryl the truth. He had told you the truth. Told you about the farm, the prison, the governor, the cannibals at Terminus, and the journey to Virginia. He talked about the people they met along the way and the people they lost. Specifically, this girl named Beth. He told you she would've loved you.

"It was uhm..." You looked off trying to find a word in your vocabulary to describe the 'safe zone'. "People in power, abuse their power."

Daryl nodded understanding everything you meant behind those words. "How'd ya leave?" Now that was a good question. Behind every person in power who abuses that power are people rebelling back. Which in a way, is what you did.

"We started a rebellion group" We gathered people to kill them all.

"It was.... a lot." We slaughtered them.

"But we did it." Like animals. Because they acted like animals.

"Hey," Daryl could see the ways your eyes drifted when you talked about it, "ya ain't gotta talk 'bout it alright?" He softly cupped the left side of your face in his hand rubbing his thumb along your cheek. His hands were rough from the years of hard work and the constant fiddling with his bow. He could tell by the way you looked up at him that you were waiting to feel his lips on yours. And of course, he gives in easily. Because how couldn't he?

Daryl had soft spots but you were by far his softest. In intimate moments like these, you tried to allow Daryl to feel as if he was in control. He was stronger than you physically so in a way he was. He could easily move you, dig his strong hands into your hips, hold you down. But you both knew you were the one truly in control. Daryl followed the rhythm you made and listened closely to the noises you made. If there was a noise that sounded even remotely close to any pain, he'd stop.

He knew every spot you liked, what spots were your sweetest and softest. Which ones made you whimper and grasp his hair.

And right now he just wanted you in every way. He wanted to make you forget about any hurt brought to you. Forget about the way he left you. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, was what he wanted every kiss along your neck to feel like. "I love ya" Daryl whispered as he placed a kiss on your collarbone, "I love you too."

“What ‘er ya doin’?” Daryl’s gruff voice startled you as you sat with your knees to your chest in the air of the late night. Daryl was woken up at first by some tossing and turning from you, you weren’t sleeping well. Daryl woke you up and told it was alright and held you as you fell back asleep. But he was awoken again when the space next to him was empty.

You blew the smoke from your mouth, “Nothin’ just needed air.” Daryl sat beside you, glancing down at the short cigarette that was held in between your fingers. “Give me that” He took it from your hands, finishing it off for you. You let him take it. You knew you shouldn’t be smoking and you knew if he saw he’d probably call you a hypocrite. All the times you told him it was bad for him, told him to take it outside. Which is precisely why you were trying to hide it from him. “When ya start doin’ this anyway?”

You were never a fan of cigarettes, you grew up around it. Your mom smoked, your dad smoked, you worked in a bar where the smell of cigarettes lingered in the air. The amount of second hand smoke you’d inhaled in your lifetime was probably higher than the average person.

“It made me feel closer to you.” It helped take away the taste of blood from your mouth.

That wasn’t a complete lie. It did, it reminded you of the smell that would linger on Daryl’s skin. That rough leather and smoke smell. But tonight, you woke up from your dreams with that awful iron taste in your mouth. Along with the dreadful memory that followed.

Daryl flicked the butt of the cigarette away and offered you a hand, “Come back to bed.”

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