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celtic-crossbow · 5 months

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Blood Ties Chapter 7

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, vomiting, minor injury, confirmation of minor canonical character death

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Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

The silence inside the truck was so uncomfortable that it teetered on the border of unbearable. Daryl hadn’t spoken a single word, not even when the caravan stopped to discuss forthcoming plans and you were invited to join. He didn’t have to speak. The intense glare that could have burned a hole through Rick’s head said everything his mouth didn’t.

You noticed Jacqui’s absence at once. There was an ache in your chest at her loss. She had been kind to you the few times you had interacted. You didn’t need an explanation. She had perished at the CDC. Whether or not it had been at Jenner’s hand was irrelevant. It had been his intent to trap you all there. In the end, it would still be blood on the doctor’s hands.

“So, we’re all in agreement? Fort Benning?” The former sheriff met the eyes of everyone as they nodded. “Alright, that’s settled. I think we need to discuss our means of travel. We’ll burn a helluva lot of fuel taking so many vehicles. Any suggestions?”

Looks were exchanged, but Dale spoke up first. “I know the RV is by far the worst on the fuel but it does provide space and a means of shelter beyond what the others do. I’m probably biased but there it is.”

“No, I think as long as we can keep the RV running, it should stay.” Lori agreed with a nod and a hand on the older man’s shoulder.

“Alright, okay.” Rick continued. “That still leaves four others.”

“We can ditch the van. Ride in the RV.” T-Dog offered quickly.

“I can lose the Jeep and ride with you, Lori, and Carl.” Shane leaned against the vehicle in question and awaited a response. Rick shook his head almost immediately.

“We’ll take Carol and Sophia, keep the kids together. You can go in the RV.”

The first emotion that passed over the other officer’s face was sour, you noticed, but swiftly turned into a compliant smile and nod. You narrowed your eyes but held your tongue. Not your circus, not your monkeys.

“M’a take the bike.” Daryl stated matter-of-factly, not even waiting for input before he dropped the tailgate of the truck. “Ya help me with this?” He waved a hand toward the truck bed with a glance at T-Dog.

“That’s good, Daryl. Real good. Lori, Carol, the kids, and I in the Cherokee. Daryl and Y/N on the bike. The rest in–”

“Jus’ me.” The redneck interjected, not looking away from the task of unloading the bike. You didn’t need confirmation to know what he meant.

“What?” Rick asked anyway.

“She can ride in the RV.” Daryl huffed. Rick raised his eyebrows but ended with shrugging a shoulder and moving on.

You, however, continued staring at the archer. It wasn’t public knowledge that the baby was Daryl’s. Amidst the panic and confusion at the CDC, no one took notice of the exchanges between the two of you. You assumed he’d like to keep it that way. Assumptions were all you had to go on at the moment because the bastard was refusing to speak to you! Still, if he continued with the very obvious disdain toward you, he was going to give himself away.

“Y/N?”

“Huh?” You turned to find all other eyes on you.

“Rick was asking if you’re okay being in the RV.” Lori was tilting her head, watching you with a look you didn’t really like. “Oh. Yeah, I’m fine wherever you want me.”

“Probably be more comfortable there.” Carol smiled that gentle smile of hers. “At some point, we’re gonna have to address the elephant in the room.” Shane’s tone was condescending. You curled your lip when he shifted to cross his arms and spit off to the side. His eyes remained on you, flickering down to your stomach and back up. You were starting to get the feeling he didn’t like you much.

Lucky for him, the feeling was mutual. “We’ve got time.” Lori interjected before you could even open your mouth. “One thing at a time. We need to find somewhere safe to stay first. Get off the road.” “She’s right.” Rick started grabbing the fuel cans and hoses to siphon the gas from the vehicles that were being left behind. The rest of the group scattered to move things and automobiles around, leaving you and Shane in a staring match. You wanted to smirk when he looked away first, granting you one last glance before disappearing around the RV.

“Anything I can do to help?” You walked up to the door of the RV as Dale stepped down. He gave you a sweet smile and traipsed out of your way, motioning to the inside.

“You don’t need to be pulling and tugging at things. You just go on inside.”

You snorted. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid. I can help.”

The older man was obviously torn but with a glance toward Andrea, he finally relented. Another story there, you supposed. “Maybe move some of the lighter bags and supplies from the other cars. They may have beat you to it, but that’s really all I know of that would be okay for you.”

“Okay, I’ll check with Lori.” You smiled at him before he went about with whatever he was doing in preparation to leave. You really did appreciate his concern but you were new to the group. You had to show them that you could be an asset. It wouldn’t do for you to end up on your own with a baby on the way. You made it to the back corner of the RV before you felt eyes searing into the back of your head. Maybe Shane had seen the exchange with Dale. Glancing over your shoulder, you locked eyes with Daryl. This time, it was you who looked away first.

You had chosen to all but hide in the back of the RV, on the bed with a book that Dale had let you borrow. You weren’t really reading as much as you were listening to the exchanges between Andrea and Shane. He was showing her about maintaining a gun. When she mentioned her father, you felt a twinge of pain in your chest.

The nausea had returned with a vengeance. Sips of water, you could handle with enough time in between. The constant rolling of your gut had you turning away from anything substantial. You knew you should eat. You needed to eat. Maybe when the next stop was made, you could ask about some crackers or something.

Lost in your head, it wasn’t until you heard Dale’s distressed exclamation that you actually looked up, leaning out to be able to see what was going on from your hovel in the back room.

“Oh jeez. Aw no. See a way through?”

You tossed the book to the foot of the bed and swung your legs over the edge to get to your feet. Glenn was suggesting to turn around for a bypass but Dale quickly shot down the idea.

“We can’t spare the fuel.”

“Jesus.” You whispered when you got your first glimpse of the disastrous cluster of cars and debris. As the RV idled, there was a pop and a white cloud drifted up in front of the windshield. “Shit.” You followed the others out the door, taking in the scene when you heard Daryl’s bike. The hunter weaved through the maze of vehicles and stopped in front of the RV.

The others discussed options, a conversation you purposefully avoided. They were including you but having a say in things was a totally different matter. You didn’t feel like you were there yet.

“There’s a whole bunch’a stuff we can find.” Daryl was right. The owners of the abandoned cars didn’t need the things they’d left behind in their panic. Except… not all of them had left. You could clearly see a corpse in the passenger side of a sedan. Was it a walker? Couldn’t be. It would have responded to the noise.

“This is a graveyard. I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“I’m with Lori. It feels like…grave robbing.” While Lori’s comment went ignored, yours earned a look from Shane that made your skin crawl. He eventually sneered before his expression smoothed out and he gave the order for everyone to go searching.

You stood still, biting your lip in hesitation. The thought of someone taking your father’s belongings from the camp just because he was dead made you see red. How could you possibly go along with this?

Maybe you could stay behind in the RV. Andrea was there, so it shouldn’t be a problem if—

“Go on.” Daryl gave you a shove you would almost define as gentle. It was the first time he had spoken to you since the CDC. You wanted to retort with something snarky, but what would that do other than piss him off more than he already was. “Grab anythin’ you think could be useful.”

“Okay.” You kept your tone soft, picking up your pace to catch up to him when he brushed past. “Can we talk?” You really did want to smooth things over. You told yourself that the connection with Daryl was solely physical, but now you’d be raising a child together in an apocalypse. That would definitely be easier if you could communicate on some level at least.

He never missed a step when he glanced at you while maneuvering between the automobiles. He’d peek in the windows of some but continued further out, probably to keep everyone else closer to your own cars.

“Nah.” He finally glowered, walking backwards away from you a few steps before turning around and disappearing behind a cargo van.

Sighing heavily, you took stock of your surroundings. There was no point in following after him. You didn’t have the energy anyway. The nausea was worsening and there was little to no water left in the RV. You allowed for a disgruntled breath, pressed a palm to your belly, and opened the driver door of the nearest car. The sooner everyone got what they needed, the better.

The smell of the decaying corpse was horrific and forced you to pull things out with one hand while the other pressed over your mouth and nose. Luckily there wasn’t much more than a suitcase that held some men’s clothing. You weren’t sure what the men could use so you left what was there, with the exception of one shirt. Strategically ripping, you fashioned a cover to tie around your face. You’d work faster with both hands.

After several minutes, you had found a damn treasure trove, including a beautiful knife in a holster that you had taken the liberty of securing around your thigh. It wasn’t a firearm but it was better than nothing.

You were climbing backwards out of the backseat of a little hatchback when you took a break to steady yourself. You were drenched in sweat and felt a little dizzy. Maybe it was time to gather your findings and go back to the others for a break. You had gone pretty far ahead.

The silence on the roadway was unnerving. You’d give almost anything for bumper to bumper traffic with an orchestra of angry shouts and sounding horns; for everything to go back like it was. You’d be in the woods at that time of day, tracking rabbits or squirrels. It didn’t take much to feed just you and your father. You didn’t have a smokehouse, so smaller game was ideal. You could still see his proud beam when you’d walk through the door.

Those days were gone now.

Back at your pile of finds, it occurred to you that you couldn’t carry it all back alone. Loath as you were to admit it, Daryl had been the closest. You pulled down your makeshift mask with a groan, but there was no other option unless you wanted to walk all the way back to the RV just to bring back help. They would likely demand you stayed put, but you didn’t want them to see you as incapable. Daryl was already annoyed with you, so requesting his assistance was your best bet.

Your steps were dragging by the time you made it to the cargo van where he had so casually rebuffed your request. Barely around the rear bumper, your stomach decided to rebel. You lurched forward with a repulsive retching sound, stomach muscles cramping from the force of the heaves. Your stomach was empty. Rancid acid and bile burned your throat, the intensity of your gagging ensuring you could be heard all the way at the RV.

Your stomach still contracted uncomfortably, excess saliva gathering in your mouth. You had just managed to wipe away any remnants on the sleeve of your flannel when a hand clamped down around your jaw. Fight or flight activated, you scrambled for the knife at your thigh, managing a single swipe before a hand caught your wrist.

“Quiet, goddamnit!” Daryl hissed faintly against your ear. He was pulling you toward the back of the van and hastily shoving you inside before climbing in himself. You loured at him and sheathed your weapon while he scrupulously pulled the doors closed.

“What—” His hand bore down over your mouth a second time, a finger raised to his lips. You only managed an indignant huff before something struck the side of the van with a thud. Vibrant orbs widened with realization that he had just saved your ass from what sounded like a sizable number of walkers.

Daryl haltingly lowered his hand as if you’d yell at him despite the threat lurking just outside. The man was sweaty and panting, as if he’d been running. Giving him once over you noticed the carmine liquid slowly saturating his shirt just above his hip.

Your movements were slow and deliberate to ensure silence. He didn’t seem to notice you until you were almost next to him, resulting in him reeling back with a vexed expression.

“You’re hurt.” You mouthed, reaching behind your head to untie the ripped section of fabric you had used as a mask. When you extended it toward the wound, he swatted at your hand. You couldn’t risk speaking so the two of you engaged in an intense staring contest. The hunter finally relented with a shake of his head, deeming alertness toward the flock of undead to be priority. You smirked and pressed the wadded strip against the injury.

He let out a grunt but stayed still, eyes remaining on the doors. It didn’t take long for the bleeding to let up, giving you a chance to peel back one side of the slice in his shirt. The wound was superficial, wouldn’t need stitches, but it was abundantly clear that you had nicked him when he grabbed you. You felt your stomach drop. Or maybe that was just the nausea.

“Think they moved on.” Daryl quietly informed you. Oblivious to your revelation, he opened one door, barely wide enough to see outside. “We can prolly head back to the— wha’?” He stopped short, your apologetic expression giving him pause.

“I didn’t know it was you. I didn’t mean to—”

The hunter rolled his eyes. “S’fine. Won’ kill me.”

While he was quick to dismiss the event, you still felt terrible. It could have been so much worse. The whole thing made your desire to talk things out with him that much more crucial. “Daryl, can you just listen to me for a second?”

There was the briefest of moments when you thought he was going to acquiesce. There was something more than anger in the way he looked at you. Then he was shaking his head. “We gotta get back. Check in with ev’ryone.” You grabbed his arm with both hands when he shifted to climb out. “M’serious. I ain’t doin’ this.”

“I get that you’re angry…with me.” You swallowed hard against the strange taste in your mouth, ignoring the protests of your inexorable stomach. “You have every right to be.” Daryl growled and snatched his arm away. He climbed out and stood just outside the door, clearly not confident enough with the degree of safety to leave you behind.

“Drop it, Y/N.” He warned.

You had climbed out and blocked his path, hands hovering in front of his chest. “The least you can let me do is—” It happened just as suddenly as before. You had no time to react. You could only clutch your abdomen and pitch forward, vomiting up what little bile that had accumulated since the last episode. All over his left boot. “—apologize.”

If it had been any other situation, the deadpan examination Daryl was currently giving his footwear would have been arguably hilarious.

“I’m, uh, sorry about that too.”

His eyes moved up to glare at you from beneath his lashes. You didn’t think a mess on his boot would be enough to really set off a man who spent the majority of his time identifying— and very often stepping in —animal waste. This was just the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. He took a step toward you. Though you didn’t think he’d hurt you, even for reasons beyond the baby, you couldn’t say you knew him well enough to bank on that theory. Therefore, you took a step back.

“Listen, woman, jus’ ‘cause ya got my kid inside ya don’t mean I hafta—” He cut off suddenly, angling his head in a way that was familiar to you. You did the same thing while hunting; listening for sounds to indicate an animal was nearby.

“What is it?”

He shushed you harshly. When you focused on the sounds around you rather than the whirlwind of thoughts in your own head, you could hear it too.

Your blood ran cold with dread.

“Sophia! Lori, there’s two walkers after my baby!”

Taglist:

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ashtheketchum · 28 days

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Hey, no pressure but when can we expect the next chapter of A New Family? I really love the concept of Daryl x Single Mom Reader!

A/N: As stupid as it sounds, questions and messages like these always make me happy. I never expected so many people to like this story! I always try to publish one chapter per week by the way ;D (Picture from Pinterest!)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Taglist: @lowkeyhottho

Warnings: Blood, Injuries, Typical TWD Content

____________________________________________

PoV (Y/N):

After the walkers were taken care of, we decided to go to the CDC. At first Shane was against it, as were some others, but Jim then convinced them. Not because he spoke well to them, but because he was bitten. When we found this out, we headed to the CDC. However, not everyone wanted to go there. Morales and his family wanted to go their own way and we accepted it. Rick gave Moales another gun and some ammunition while the others separated from his family.

(D/N) and I kept our distance, we didn't have any real contact with Morales and his family, so we didn't say goodbye. "Okay, we're leaving!" And with those words we set off to the CDC.

Rick, Carol, Lori, Sophia and Carl rode together, Dale, Jim, Tdog, Glenn, Andrea and Jacqui rode in the RV. I actually wanted (D/N) to go with one of them, but there was no more space. We sat with Daryl in his car. It had a huge loading area on which he had placed his brother's motorcycle. We had put our bags next to it because they would have taken up too much space at the front. While Daryl drove, I sat between him and (D/N), who was sleeping. She rested her head on my arm and I stroked her hand gently.

There was silence between Daryl and me. I didn't know what it was like between us now. He insulted me, then apparently wanted to spend time with (D/N). Then he snapped at me and then saved my and (D/N)'s life. It was confusing. I briefly thought about how (D/N) sees Daryl and I had to smile slightly. I sighed briefly in amusement, which Daryl probably noticed. ,, Wha´? Why´r ya laughing?" He asked, not annoyed, but more curious. "I didn't laugh…" I then said quietly and then turned my head away.

Daryl gave a brief snort of amusement. ,, F´course not…" Strangely, I couldn't hear any annoyed or offended tone in his voice. Maybe he was a little calmer now and I could tell him. It wouldn't really change anything anyway. “(D/N)… said that she sees you as a new father…” I then murmured quietly. A sad smile crept onto my lips and I looked down at her. She was breathing very calmly and had now laid her head on my lap. Daryl remained silent, although I could feel him tense briefly. ,, Wha´? Why tha´?" If I only knew that, Dixon.

Shrugging my shoulders, I looked out the window again. The streets were quiet and we didn't see a single walker. You might think that there wouldn't be any more, but this picture is deceptive. "I don't know…" I then sighed quietly.

Before Daryl could ask anything else, we suddenly saw the RV and Rick's car stop. Daryl stopped too and Rick motioned for us to come out. Just as I was about to unbuckle myself, Daryl moved his hand in front of my face. "Stay here, I'll go…" He just murmured quietly and he walked out. I stayed quiet for a moment, actually I didn't even have to listen to him, but if Daryl gave me the order not to do anything (which had never happened before), then there was probably a reason for it. So I stayed seated and watched the other group members talk.

Lori and Andrea looked at me briefly before tilting their heads towards me and speaking. For a while, I felt very uncomfortable, what were they talking about me? Did you want to get rid of us? Daryl spoke briefly before moving back to us. He opened his door and slammed it again. “Everything okay…?” Daryl remained silent for a moment. "Yeh… Jim wan´s ´ta stay here and be dropped off… we should say bye…" Daryl then said.

His answer chastised me a bit. Jim had lasted a really long time, but I expected him to give up now. He probably suffered terribly. "What did Lori and Andrea say?" This question slipped out of my mind. I didn't really want to ask, but somehow I had a right to know if it was about me. "They asked if ya should also say bye ta´ Jim… Andrea sai´ that ya and (D/N) should do tha´…" Daryl explained briefly. "I said that ya should decide for yarself."

I was grateful and pissed. Why did Andrea take the right to decide over me and my daughter. However, I really wanted to say goodbye, out of respect. "It's okay… but thanks, Daryl…" I murmured quietly. I gently lifted (D/N)'s head to get out. I didn't want her to have to say goodbye, she wasn't ready for that. Daryl got out from his side so I could climb after him.

Rick and Shane sat Jim by a tree and we said goodbye. It took a lot of people away, Jacqui even gave him a kiss before she walked away. I then knelt down next to Jim and I nodded at him gratefully. "I hope you won't be in pain anymore…" "I won't… and take good care of your daughter…" He coughed quietly. I smiled lovingly at him before standing up and distancing myself again. After everyone said goodbye, we continued driving until we hit a traffic jam. (D/N) was awake again by now and I explained the situation to her with Jim before we all got out and listened to Rick.

(D/N) was a little sad, but she didn't cry because of the news with Jim. I didn't know if she was angry that she couldn't say goodbye or disappointed. But it didn't feel right for me to let her do something like that.

Since there were a lot of cars here, we had to somehow find resources to help us. Food, medicine, clothes, water and more. Just anything you could find. So we split up a bit and started looking. (D/N) and I went with Tdog. How the others divided up was different. "Maybe we can find new clothes or even medicine." (D/N) said, looking around too. "Let's hope so, little one." Tdog agreed with her. Tdog and I searched in the cars while (D/N) stayed outside and instead looked under them or looked around.

I found some clothes and a bottle of water. Smiling, I got out of the car again and I showed this to (D/N). She smiled brightly and reached for the fabric I had pulled out. It was a t-shirt, her size and she seemed to like it. "Can I keep this?" I acknowledged her question with a nod. “Walker!” Tdog suddenly said. Immediately we saw the huge herd coming towards us from the distance and we ran between the cars to the others.

“Mom!” (D/N) suddenly shouted. I immediately turned around and I saw (D/N) lying on the ground, blood flowing out of her leg. She had cut off a part of the rust. I immediately ran to her and I picked her up. My clothes soaked up her blood before it continued to drip to the floor. Breathing heavily, I kept running before Lori grabbed me and told me to hide under a car.

“Come on, get under the car, honey!” I said to (D/N), who slowly went under the car. I climbed after her and looked at her wound under the car. It was a deep cut, but it wasn't big. I looked deep into her eyes before tearing off some fabric from my top and wrapping it around the wound. In the background I could already hear the walkers running past us and (D/N) pressed her hands to her mouth to keep quiet. We were now trapped under the cars and (D/N) was bleeding non-stop.

#twd daryl dixon #daryl #daryl twd #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader

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optimist-pine · 2 months

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Dermatillomania (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of the fall of the Greene Farm in a way your therapist would not approve of.

Warnings: Typical TWD content! Dermatillomania (BFRB's, self-inflicted injury), mentions of death, etc.

Word Count: 719

Era: Follows directly after the season 2 finale

A/n: Just a personal vent... Dunno if anyone else relates.

It hadn't been easy to stop necessarily, but anything other than going cold turkey hadn't really been an option. When you absentmindedly find yourself starting to pick, a quick reminder that it could get you killed is all it takes to shut it down. Most of the time anyways... Tonight though? Oh, tonight you've fallen into old habits so fast and hard that you're stuck there in that state, in the worst session you've had since it all began.

You're tucked away in your own little corner of the ruins and firelight, shadowed enough that no one's really paying attention to what you're up to. At some point, your arms have come out of the sleeves of your coat and it's shrugged loosely around you, leaving skin exposed to the chilly air. You don't notice.

It's all catching up now, all replaying in your mind like the final straw has been plucked. That horrible night at the quarry, the panic when what had been a safe place was so quickly turned into a graveyard. Leaving Jim to die. The terror at the CDC of almost being murdered as a mercy. Leaving Jacqui to die. Sophia... Dale... The farm could've been a safe place, you'd truly believed it until they were somehow just - everywhere. Patricia, Jimmy, Shane... Leaving Andrea to die...

You can feel how it's all too much for your mind to handle, how it's trying to relieve the pressure in this way. It's no good, but your body doesn't know better and you don't know how to make it stop. You can't make any of it stop. Your fingernails desperately search raw skin for any bump, or blemish, or imperfection. They're everywhere. Maybe you'd feel ashamed if bigger and uglier emotions weren't cramming it out of the way.

The cold air cools drops of hot blood on your skin, you can feel it, and yet you feel separate from it simultaneously. Like the same way you breathe without thinking about the breathing part. The fire crackles low and leaves rustle out in the trees as the others hunker down. Nobody's really sleeping though. Not tonight.

Daryl's keeping watch on the perimeter when his eyes settle on you. Your fingers pause in their assault; you can't continue with an audience. Please just look away so I can keep going, some darkness in your mind pleads. But no, you scramble to pull the coat over yourself to conceal the evidence.

"What's this?" He asks, his voice low enough that the others won't really notice.

"Nothing. I'm fine." You can't meet his eyes, shame has finally pushed its way to the forefront now.

You don't try to stop him as he slides the coat off your shoulder, revealing your handiwork. Even in the darkness, you're sure the ugly redness has to be so obvious. You're not only weak, you're weak and stupid.

He pulls your backpack over and digs through it. "Your first aid kit in here?"

You nod once, but that only initiates the tears. What feeling are they from? Anger? Guilt? Fear? This was always the worst part, hating what you've done and wishing for nothing more than to go back and undo it. After everything that had happened... pathetic.

Daryl finds the antibacterial spray and gets to work. His care and surprising tenderness only make you feel that much worse. You were so incapable of handling yourself that you've got a full-grown man treating you like... like the broken thing that you are.

After that he takes a couple of bandages and wraps them around your upper arms, fingers steady and slow. "Leave 'em alone an' let 'em heal. You're tougher than that." He packs up the supplies, helps you fit your arms back into the sleeves, then waits. You're not sure what he expects from you, but then he mimes a zippering motion. You comply and close up your coat. With a single nod, he turns and returns to his watch of the dark surrounding forest.

Maybe you're just thoroughly messed up, but you trade the repeating images in your mind for his words. The past. You have to leave it alone. You have to let it heal. You're here, now, in the present. Alive. You would be tough enough to stay that way. You would.

#twd #the walking dead #twd season 2 #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #optimist pine

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desiderio-dixon · 3 months

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Darkest Before the Dawn

Chapter 3 : Hand Me Downs

Pairing : Daryl Dixon x f!reader (endgame), (unrequited) Glenn Rhee x f!reader

Series summary : When Glenn Rhee comes into your life, you become convinced he's a guardian angel sent by your late best friend. You think he's your soulmate. But then he falls for the farmer's daughter, and you find that your own angel may be a little more blatant than expected; wings and all.

Chapter summary : Glenn returns from Atlanta, Daryl returns from hunting, and all of you leave on a rescue mission for Merle.

Chapter warnings : language, violence, gore, general twd themes

Word count : 3.8k

A/N : This one wasn't proof-read so if anyone noticed any mistakes please lmk! next update may be a little slower because closing in on the process of adopting a puppy!

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Emerging from your tent, you head for Dale immediately. The noise is only growing closer and louder, and everyone is grouped around Dale. The old man looks through his binoculars, eyebrows furrowed. "Well, I'll be damned." Dale mutters.

"What is it?" Amy pushes impatiently.

"A stolen car is my guess."

The bright red sports car pulls into the quarry, and your heart leaps in your chest when you spy the driver. While everyone around panics about the noise, or their still-missing friends, your relief outweighs anything else. You leap onto Glenn, hugging him tight while he attempts to calm Amy. Paying it no mind, you only focus on the way his arms circle around your back to return the hug. It only lasts a couple seconds before he's stepping back to pop the hood for Shane. It's enough, though.

"Why isn't she with you? Where is she? She's okay?" Amy sputters, wide eyed and frantic.

"Yes! Yeah, fine. Everybody is. Well, Merle not so much." Typically you wouldn't care that anything had happened to Merle. You'd even go as far to say, you'd be downright relieved. You wouldn't wish death on anyone, but maybe you'd wish that Merle would somehow be teleported a good 200 miles away from you. But, that relief was only there for a split second. Instead, you felt a deep sense of worry for Daryl.

You didn't know him much at all, hell, he's spoken no more than five sentences to you the entire time you'd known him. None of those sentences were ever delivered in a particularly friendly manner, but just this morning he had helped you. You knew he felt like an outsider, and it seemed the only person in the group he liked was his brother.

Not only were you worried he'd fall into some form of depression if Merle was dead, but you were also worried he'd leave. Daryl provided so much to your group, and whether they realized it or not, everyone owed a lot to him.

You break free of your thoughts just in time to hear Dale scolding Glenn. "It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?"

You know Glenn looks up to Dale, can see his worry of disappointing him. "Sorry," Glenn says, staring at his feet. Then, he looks up with a grin. "Got a cool car." That makes you let out a huff of laughter. It is a pretty cool car.

Your attention is stolen away by the sound of tires crunching over gravel, the van pulling in behind the red dodge charger. Andrea is the first to hop out, running to Amy. Morales, T-dog, and Jacqui all spill out after her. Morales greets his wife and children before coming over to give Dale a hug. "I thought we'd lost you folks for sure." Dale laughs.

"How'd y'all get out of there, anyway?" Shane asks, hands on his hips. The classic authoritarian stance he always seems to don.

From beside you, Glenn speaks up. "New guy." He glances to the van. "He got us out." New guy? It's been a while since your group has welcomed a new addition.

Nothing could prepare you for the reaction to the man who steps out of the van. Lori and Shane frozen, absolutely shellshocked. Carl, running and screaming for his father.

Lori recovers after a moment, falling into her husband's awaiting arms. Shane stays where he is, no hint of a smile on his face. You catch him fake one when Rick looks his way. It's not hard to guess what's happening. "Trouble in apocalyptic paradise for Shane and Lori." You whisper to Glenn, who only looks down at his shoes and shakes his head in sardonic amusement.

You get along well enough with Lori, if nothing else but for the simple fact that you adore her son. She's never done anything to make you think less of her, and you really don't blame her for her obvious affair with Shane. She'd told the story to you once or twice. Husband gets shot on the job, comatose, shit hits the fan, husband's best friend takes care of her and her son. And of course, she'd told you the part where Shane had listened for a heartbeat. There was none. Or so it was said.

Who can blame a grieving widow, lost in this shit-storm of a world for seeking comfort in a fling with the man she believes is her savior?

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

You sit down by the unlit firepit with T-dog and Glenn. T-dog gnaws on a piece of jerky, eyes downcast. "Daryl's not gonna be happy," You start. No one has filled you in exactly on what happened, just that Merle was left chained on the roof. Alive but trapped. "But I'm sure he'll understand to some degree. He's gotta be more tired of his brother than any of us." You joke. T-dog just shakes his head, obviously guilty.

"He was out of control. Rick did the right thing." Glenn tells you. You hum in response, gaze wandering to where Rick wanders around camp, acquainting himself with all it's residents. The deputy must feel your eyes on him, because when he's done shaking Ed's hand, he heads for you. He's all confident strides, a sureness you haven't seen in anyone since the end of the world. You guess it's the effect of finding your wife and child in such unlikely circumstances.

He stops in front of you, hand extended and a smile more full of happiness than you've seen in two months. "Rick Grimes." He introduces.

You return his smile, clasping his hand. "Trust me, I already knew your name. Carl's told me all about how cool his daddy is." He laughs, looking down in a sort of bashful manner. You tell him your name, and he repeats it, nodding to himself.

"Yeah," He drawls. "Turns out I already knew yours, too. Glenn told me you know the city like the back of your hand." You nod. You'd lived in Atlanta before the turn, and you'd only become even more informed on it given the various runs you'd been on.

"Oh yeah. Normally I would've been there, being the one to save Glenn's ass. Glad you were there to fill my shoes." You tease, nudging Glenn with your shoulder. He pushes you back gently, sputtering out defenses.

When you glance back to Rick, he's laughing too.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

After the sun had gone to sleep, and the stars brought a bitter chill to the air, everyone gathered around the firepit. Rick has Lori and Carl tucked into his side as he recalls the chain of events leading him back to them. "Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented. Fear, confusion; all of those things but, disoriented comes closest."

It must be strange to just wake up in a world like this. At least you had seen things progress. Heard the stories of cannibals on the radio, seen the news clips of deathly beings attacking civilians, watched the hospitals become overrun and the system fall apart. You'd seen the bombs drop, too.

"Words can be meager things, sometimes they fall short." Dale pipes up beside you. You look at Glenn, his face illuminated in a warm glow from the fire. Looking at him lights a sense of comfort and safety within you. He may be young, awkward and clunky, but he saved you.

The conversation goes on, focus almost entirely on Rick. When he turns to Shane, a sincerity to his eyes, you feel almost guilty. As if you are the one harboring the secret of Lori and Shane's affair. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane." You have to suppress a sigh at his words. "I can't begin to express it."

"There goes those words falling short again." Dale quips. You can't help but agree. It's not your business, but you feel that words can't begin to express how convoluted the relationship between those three will end up being. How long can you keep secrets from a cop?

Shane leaves shortly after to argue with Ed. Not the first time the drunken man had insisted he needed a larger fire. You keep an eye from your spot, watching Carol and Sophia closely. You don't like Shane, but you know he'd use any excuse to beat on Ed. There's no complaints to be had from you if an altercation between the two started; as long as Carol and Sophia are safe and away from the action.

Somewhat unfortunately, the situation seems to resolve, Shane coming back to the main firepit. "Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind." Dale says once Shane's situated. This time, your sigh does spill out. You weren't a part of the Atlanta group, and yet, all you've been thinking about since they got back was Daryl Dixon.

"I'll tell him," T-dog offers. "I dropped the key, it's on me."

Rick shakes his head. "I cuffed him." You see Glenn shaking his leg from beside you, glancing between T-dog and Rick beyond the fire.

"Guys, it's not a competition. I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy." Ah, so that's why he was so nervous.

"I really don't think Daryl is like Merle," You say, unsure why you feel the need to defend him. Just because he brought Carol to you? "At least not like that." There were definitely other ways Daryl was like Merle. Their brash language, their unkempt demeanor, and perhaps their general strength and hunting skill. Still, Daryl didn't strike you as a racist.

The conversation goes on, discussing what to tell Daryl. Who to take blame, whether to lie or be honest.

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that. Not that chain, not that padlock." T-dog rambles, the fire crackling loudly as a backtrack to his words. "My point– Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us."

His confirmation that Merle is alive ends the discussion for the night, the group trickles off into their respective tents, and the fire flickers out. Glenn stands from beside you, announcing his departure. You watch him as he leaves, a coldness taking over in his absence.

You stay behind for a moment, no one left at the fire. A few feet away, Shane sits atop the RV. Paying him no mind, you lean back and stare at the sky. It's moments like these that you allow yourself to remember your best friend; allow yourself to picture her face among the stars. You take a deep breath, feeling it stretch your lungs, before breathing it out into the chilly night air. You imagine it takes the weight in your heart with it. But when you're done, standing up and heading to your tent, your chest feels just as heavy.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Daryl finishes stringing up cans around the small clearing. It's not much, but it's some form of protection. He lies in the makeshift bed–his bag as a pillow and a t-shirt as a mattress. The trip hadn't been as productive thus far as he'd hoped, only a string of squirrels lay beside him. He'll get up before the sun, and keep going until he finds something of value he decides.

He takes comfort in staring at the night sky. It's where he feels he belongs. Even before the end of the world, he'd spent most nights sleeping outside in nature. It was always safer. In some way, he does find himself feeling more exposed without the knowledge that there are people around him. At the quarry, there's always someone keeping watch. He couldn't trust Merle to keep sober to watch his back.

But soon enough, it'll be back to just him and Merle. He'll have to deal with it.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

You, Carol, and Lori are on laundry duty this morning. Carol scrubs Rick's sherrif uniform and something about it almost makes you giggle. Wearing a police uniform in the apocalypse is nothing short of something from a comic book.

You have Glenn's hat, trying to spot clean little dried blood stains. "I wish peroxide wasn't as valuable," You comment, scrubbing with all your might on a particularly stubborn stain. "Used to wash out blood like magic." Carol hums, agreeing. Lori stays silent, working on her own laundry with a faraway look.

"Everything okay with you and Rick?" Carol asks, touching Lori's arm gently with a soapy hand. Lori nearly jumps out of her skin, water splashing from her basin. Suds fly through the air, and to your great displeasure, a splotch of soap lands right in your eye.

"Ow, shit!" You cry, dropping Glenn's hat and covering your eye. Lori frantically apologizes.

Due to your momentary loss of vision, you don't notice Glenn approaching you until he's calling out. "Hey, you okay? Let me see," He says. You tilt your head up, trying your best to open your eye. He takes the corner of his shirt and lifts it, using it to gently brush soap away from your eye.

His care for you makes you warm. It feels good to know someone cares. You rapidly blink to clear the remnants of soap, before flashing him a radiant smile. "Thanks." You breathe.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Later, you stand next to Glenn, sharing in his grief. Dale and Jim are under the hood of the Dodge Charger, yanking out parts and pieces. Glenn's hands are on his head, brows furrowed in sadness. You pat him on the back. "We'll find another."

"Generators need every drop of fuel they can get. Got no power without it. Sorry, Glenn." Dale calls. Glenn looks down at his feet and you giggle, much to his chagrin.

Before you know it, Rick has approached you, a similar look of amusement on his face. "I thought I'd get to drive it at least a few more days." Glenn mumbles.

"Maybe we'll steal another one someday." Rick echoes your earlier sentiment. He wanders off, likely to find Lori.

"You replacing me with officer friendly?" You joke, nudging Glenn. He exhales through his nose, a small grin on his face.

"I don't know who makes fun of me more." He whines. You roll your eyes, reaching up to steal his hat off his head. Placing it on top your own, you turn and run, laughing while he chases you.

The chase gets cut short by a chorus of screams. You and Glenn freeze in unison, wide eyes meeting each other before you both dash. You hear Carl and Sophia's distinct voices calling out for their mothers.

You run as fast as your feet can carry you, Glenn's hat discarded still on your head. The children are at the edge of the forest, and as the adults arrive, they all run right into their parents arms. Running into the forest behind them, you all find the culprit. A deer, now dead, with a walker feasting on its innards. Your eyes are drawn to the various arrows sticking out of it.

The men jump into action, beating the walker with various objects. It reminds you of prison beatings in movies; ugly, uncoordinated, and inefficient. When they finish, the grunts and huffs silenced, you point to the arrows. "Daryl." You simply offer.

Shane nods, but otherwise they seem to ignore you. "It's the first one we've had up here. They never come this far up the mountain." Dale says, eyes wide.

Suddenly, the tree branches start to move and dried leaves crunch under the weight of something. You all gear up to fight another walker, when Daryl Dixon comes stumbling out of the woods. There's a level of relief to seeing him, knowing that your group didn't lose both their prize hunters in one fell swoop. But there's also a level of dread, a sinking weight in your stomach when you think of the news that needs delivering.

You don't get to think on it long, for Daryl interrupts your thoughts with an outburst. "Son of a bitch. That's my deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this–" He starts kicking the walker. "–filthy, disease-bearin', motherless, poxy bastard!" You can't help but laugh. You really don't mean to, don't want him to think you're mocking him. The giggles just tumble out one-by-one, unstoppable in their path.

Everyone pauses to look at you, varying degrees of concern and confusion, but you just can't stop laughing. Daryl narrows his eyes at you, "This funny to ya?" You can't answer through your huffs, so Daryl just scoffs, turning his attention back to the walker. It receives one more swift kick to the side.

Dale extends his arm in a notion to stop. "Calm down, son. That's not helping." You know it from the moment it leaves his lips that he'll receive an earful for this. It simply doesn't work to tell a man like Daryl to 'calm down'.

Just as expected, Dale receives the opposite of the intended reaction. "What do you know about it, old man? Why don't ya take that stupid hat and go back to 'on golden pond'?" You, for one, think Dale's bucket hat is very stylish, and you'd let him know that on multiple occasions.

"I've been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do ya think? Do ya think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?" He seems genuine, chewing on his thumb and contemplating with a furrowed brow.

"I would not risk that." Shane says. Daryl sighs, disappointment evident.

"That's a damn shame. I got some squirrel, about a dozen or so. That'll have to do." Daryl moves to leave, and you start to follow behind him.

Suddenly, the decapitated walkers head breathes life once more, snapping it's teeth and groaning. Daryl stops in his tracks, almost making you face-plant right into his back. "Come on, people. What the hell?" He readies his crossbow, shooting the decaying head right between the eyes.

"It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothing?"

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

Daryl makes it back to the camp first, tossing his string of squirrels by the firepit. "Merle! Get yer ugly ass out here, got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!" He does find it strange that Merle doesn't immediately respond, knowing how loose Merle's jaw is.

Shane's voice, his tone, sends a spiral of uncertainty through him. "Daryl, just slow up a bit, need to talk to you."

Daryl whips around to face Shane. "About what?" Shane places his hands over his belt buckle, eyes darting away from Daryl.

"About Merle. There was a–There was a problem in Atlanta." Daryl let's the words sink in, nodding slowly. He feels that all too familiar lump in his throat, panic digging her claws into his esophagus.

"He dead?" He thinks he must be. What else could Shane be referring to?

"We're not sure." Shane says. That lights a fire in Daryl. Uncertainty has never been his friend. Things didn't feel real without confirmation.

"He either is or he ain't!"

Rick approaches, hand out as if Daryl was some rabid animal. "No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."

"Who are you?" Daryl snaps, looking this new guy up and down. He looks past him, to everyone at camp, who seems to not bat an eye at the newcomer. The hell did he miss?

"Rick Grimes." The confidence that Rick delivers his name in only makes Daryl more angry.

Daryl huffs, stepping closer to Rick, chest puffed. "Rick grimes, you got something you want to tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal." Rick tilts his head, locking eyes with Daryl. "He's still there."

Daryl almost laughs, a bitter, angry laugh at the absurdity. "Hold on. Let me process this." He gestures to his head. "You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?" He yells.

"Yeah." Next thing Daryl knows, he's pulled his knife and Shane has him in a chokehold.

"You'd best let me go!" He screeches, thrashing wildly.

Shane only seems to tighten his grip. "Nah, I think it's better if I don't."

"Choke hold's illegal."

Shane has an air of amusement in his tone when he responds, but nothings funny to Daryl right now. "You can file a complaint. Come on, man. We'll keep this up all day."

Rick crouches down to look Daryl in his eye. "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that? Do you think we can manage that?"

Its not Rick's request, or his condescending tone that causes Daryl to agree. It's not Shane's grip either. It's when he looks behind them, to you.

You, with your eyes full of not fear or worry, but of sympathy. It makes shame burn in him, enveloping his body in an overwhelming and uncomfortable warmth. He feels your eyes on him and he feels your pity and it makes him sick. He needs out. If he has to have a peaceful conversation with Rick to get away from your piercing eyes, then so be it.

Imagine Daryl's thrill when Rick proposes you and Glenn to join in the rescue mission for Merle. He'd said something about you and Glenn knowing the city, needing you to retrieve a bag of guns. Daryl narrows his eyes at you and Glenn when you pack into the back of the van. You've still got the kid's hat on, and something about that makes him uncomfortable. Who has time for love in this world?

The ride is mostly silent, some jokes exchanged between you, Glenn, and T-dog. Nothing Daryl pays much attention to. He'd rather go get his brother himself. Eventually Glenn stops the van. "We walk from here."

On the walk, Daryl's heart speeds up the closer he gets to the department store. He's antsy, just wants to see his brother, dead or alive. You seem to notice, speeding your steps a bit to walk in pace with him. "I'm sure he's okay. You Dixons are tough." Daryl just scoffs, refusing to meet your eye.

Each step up to the roof sends a new wave of nerves through his stomach, so he takes them two at a time. T-dog cuts through the padlock and Daryl brushes past him onto the roof. "Merle!" And then he sees it. Grey and decaying, bloody and lifeless. It reminds Daryl of everything else Merle has left for him.

All the ripped old flannels, the half drank beers, hell, even the aged porno mags with the ink smeared and half the pages falling out. Merle never left anything pleasant for Daryl.

Though, while sobbing over Merle's dismembered hand, he has to say that this is the worst hand me down of all.

❀~~__~~❀~~__~~❀

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biblio-smia · 2 months

Text

the last thing i need — three

warnings: twd content warnings

pairings: glenn rhee x reader

[one.] [two.] [three.]

Glenn's absence weighed heavier on your shoulders than you'd anticipated. Occasionally, you'd look behind you and expect to find him there, eyes on you, only to find no one there. Every time you turned to look ended with a shake of your head and turning back to whatever was in front of you.

Perhaps the feeling was as outwardly obvious as it was strong, as Jacqui looked at you with pity in her warm brown eyes, inviting you to sit with the women.

They had taken a break from laundry to sit and chat, but you thought that picking up where they left off would keep your mind off of Glenn.

It didn't work very well.

You blamed one of Glenn's shirts that came up with stains that would never come out. Nevertheless, you tried, taking your time and being extra gentle with the piece of clothing. Even while he was away, Glenn got special treatment from you — and you hated it.

The mission the men departed on should've been calling your name. It did at first, at least for a little while, enticing you with an opportunity to escape the camp you found yourself on.

The desire to go vanished once Glenn revealed he would be going, too.

The brief conversation you had with Glenn weighed on your chest, a feeling too thick to swallow stuck in your throat.

You acted hastily then, overcome with an emotion you didn’t want to admit. Now it was just you and your thoughts, trying to come up with an alternate, much more reasonable explanation.

You told yourself you didn't try to join in on the mission because it'd be harder to separate from the group in the city filled with walkers. There was space to move here, space to slip off quietly if you were more careful than last time.

It wasn't because of the was your lips pulsed after meeting Glenn's cheek. It wasn't because of the way your heart pounded at the thought of him back in the city you barely escaped.

Solitude was familiar. Although it was never true, not with all the walkers you encountered, it was all you'd known for a while. You tried to keep up with it even now at this camp bustling with life, isolating yourself from the women just a few feet away — but the company was tempting.

And stubborn.

Andrea turned to wave you over, patting a spot near her. The rest of the women followed her lead with warm smiles that shone on the darkest parts of you, filling you with an unwilling joy.

You abandoned Glenn's shirt and accepted the invitation, although you were quiet for the most part — save for the little laughs the girls pulled out of you.

The five of you watched as the water glistened in the sunlight, exchanging stories and laughter as they confessed what they missed most about the old word.

"Speaking of things we miss... what's up with you and Glenn?" Andrea inquired with a grin and a bump to your shoulder. The rest of the women were silent but you could tell the question was on their mind, too — they just weren't as straightforward or bold to ask it.

"What?" You asked, feeling a little embarrassed at the question. There was really no reason to, but you couldn't help but feel like the tiptoeing around your own emotions was useless if suspicion of anything between you and Glenn was this high. "No, there's nothing up with us," you shook your head.

"Really? Cause I could've sworn you went into his tent the first night you got here—" Andrea spoke, earning a few gasps and small laughs from the other women.

Oh. She meant that.

Now you were really embarrassed.

You didn't have time to form an answer as a man approached — Carol's husband. His expression was humorless as he pressed for details of your conversation, pushing your group closer and closer to discomfort and defense — namely, Andrea.

You didn't blame her for it. You didn't blame her for calling out Ed's laziness and his abuse towards Carol, the news making your eyes widen and your body move in front of Carol defensively. Your hands weren't enough to stop Ed in the commotion, not as you saw how tightly he was gripping on to Carol.

No, Ed didn't stop until he was beat to a pulp by Shane.

You could hear your heart pound and feel the anxious sweat on your palms as you and the rest of the women did your best to comfort Carol, trying to focus on helping her rather than the violence you'd just witnessed.

Ed deserved it, undoubtedly, but it did not make you any less weary of Shane. Something about the man was off-putting. Something about him made you uneasy but you couldn't figure out what. No one else seemed to pick up on anything strange, so you kept quiet and kept your distance.

But one look at Ed's face told you that maybe you'd have to look out for the living more than the dead.

A stupid part of you waited anxiously for Glenn's return, knowing his presence would ease you even if he was unaware of your caution. It was awful, this feeling — one you'd felt before, but never quite this intense. This feeling would make you stupid if you let it — part of the reason you'd wanted to abandon ship at first hint of it.

There was no time for things like romance anymore, no matter how badly you craved it. It was about survival now.

And yet, you couldn't help but remember how you felt when Glenn's hands were on you, his lips on your neck —

You shook your head. This was no time for that.

Night was beginning to creep up and Glenn still had not returned. That feeling in your throat almost made it impossible to breathe.

The night was eerie despite the soft chatter of voices and crickets, the light of a fire illuminating faces with golden warmth. You took a plate of food and sat off by yourself, taking the opportunity to gather your thoughts. All the plans you'd previously had were in shambles. No next move you thought of felt right. Your fingers tapped on your knee nervously, teeth chewing up your lip in thought.

Maybe, if you hadn’t been alone for so long, you wouldn’t have picked up on the low groans from behind you.

You stood and pulled your knife in one swift motion, plunging the blade into the walker’s head, feeling the blood splatter on you. Another walker replaced the fallen one immediately, a small hoard in pursuit, pushing you towards the others.

The others.

“Walkers!” You called, distancing yourself from the pack just enough to turn around.

But you and your familiarity with being alone were not used to fighting with others. It had been too long since you have had to fight for anyone. Your warning was too late and there was nothing you could do but watch as a walker bit Amy.

Self-preservation is what you know, your attention snapping back to the problem ahead of you just in time. You know these movements better than anything - push them back, stab the knife into their heads, just enough to hit the brain - but the walkers don't stop coming.

All you are aware of are the screams behind you, begging for your attention as your heart lurches with the urge to help families trying to find each other in the chaos that has suddenly taken over camp.

You try to focus, try to convince yourself that helping yourself is helping them, that each walker down is one less walker able to bite and infect.

Gunshots ring out from behind you, next to you, all around you as walkers take over.

“Get to the R.V! Go!” Someone shouts over the sound of the bullets.

The crowd was at least thinning out now. Your arm was tiring from the repetitive movements, but you didn’t dare stop.

Not until there was only one walker left in front of you.

Even in the dim light of the camp, you can recognize her. Your heart feels heavy in your chest and guilt clogs your throat.

What was left of your sister dragged her body towards you, mouth ready to bite.

Your arm fell limp by your side. Your breath caught in your throat. A bullet hit your sister (no, not your sister) and someone screamed. Maybe it was you.

You dropped with her, stationed on your knees as you watched your sister reach for you.

Most of her was missing and the last time you saw her flashed in your mind. She’d yelled at you not to look back at her but you couldn’t help it; Now you were left with the image of her caught in the mouths of walkers, all desperate for a bite.

She’d sacrificed herself for you to continue on. To live.

And here she was now, because you couldn’t bring yourself to shoot her back then.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Your face was wet. Was it blood, sweat, or tears?

Glenn was sure he’d hit a walker with his bullet, but your scream made him doubt himself as he ran. Rick, T-Dog, and Daryl cleared the rest of the hoard, but Glenn’s only worry now was you.

His footsteps slowed as he spotted you, cradling a body that hadn’t been alive in a while. Though the body had stopped moving now - Glenn noticed the knife you plunged into the back of its head.

Glenn called your name softly, kneeling on the ground to join you. His hand came to your shoulder and he could see the tears drip off your face and make silent splatters on the zombie in your arms.

“We can bury her,” Glenn said quietly. “We do that for the ones we love.”

You nodded and your face found Glenn’s chest, your arms letting go of your sister, cold and dead, and clinging on to the warm body next to you. Alive.

You couldn’t be more grateful.

The aftermath was chaos. The bodies, littered everywhere, were unnerving. The children cried and Andrea sat over her sister’s corpse all night.

You knew exactly how she felt. You made sure she knew it, too. She didn’t speak a word as you cleaned as much blood from Amy’s body as you could. Her gaze never left her sister as you cleaned her own hands.

“There,” you said. You looked back at the rest of the group watching you, some desperate to put a bullet in Amy’s brain. “You take all the time you need. Don’t let them take that from you.”

You expected the lack of response as you stood, unwavering as you stared Daryl down, watching as he shook his head and went off to keep dragging the bodies.

You didn’t speak when you heard footsteps follow you to the edge of the woods. You knew who it was, and what he was doing. You wished you could hate him for it.

“Let me help,” Glenn offered from behind you as you looked at your sister’s body. It laid exactly as you’d left it before, but the daylight revealed the horrific state she died in.

You accepted Glenn’s help wordlessly, taking her shoulders while he grabbed her feet.

“Had to fight Dixon to bury our people. I mean, he just wanted to burn them!” Glenn shook his head, eyes glancing up to yours.

He was too good. That was it. That was what you hated so much.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, no, I did. For her. For Amy, too. And everyone else back there. We still have to have some humanity, right? Or else we’re just surviving, not... not living.”

Glenn’s words rang in your mind as the two of you carried the body through the thick Georgia heat, sweat dripping down every part of you.

Living. Not just surviving.

Your sister’s last words. Her last wish. For you to live.

You looked back up at Glenn as the two of you dropped your sister in the “Bury” pile, watching as he adjusted his cap and wiped some sweat off his brow.

Live. Not just survive.

Maybe Glenn could help you figure out what that meant.

Soft chatter surrounded you as you sat off to the side, knees pulled up to your chest. You sat away from the group, as you always did, keeping an eye on the people and another on the woods.

There was talk of going to the CDC. You weren't sure how well that was going to work out if the CDC looked like the rest of the world.

But there was something in the group as they spoke to each other, even after everything that had happened today. There was hope, small sparks of it glowing like the embers of a fire.

Maybe you'd let yourself have some of it, too.

"Hey," a voice spoke, pulling up a chair next to you.

"Hey." You glanced up at Glenn, watching him run a hand through his hair, his cap in his hand.

The sun glistened off his skin, making his hair shine as he turned his head to look at you. There was a trace of a smile but an even bigger hint of a question on his lips.

You knew what the question would be. But you still weren't quite sure of your answer.

"What happened in Atlanta?" You ask, hoping to buy yourself time and realizing that everything that had happened after Glenn's returned had prevented you from asking about it sooner.

"Atlanta." Glenn repeats, the place seeming so foreign to him now. "Well, we got the guns." He laughs, sounding too forced, eyes wandering over the faces that remain. You're quiet, feeling the guilt you share heavy in the air.

"But we ran into some guys."

Your eyebrows raise at this - you don't know strangers nowadays to be particularly friendly. Glenn was rare.

"And you just handed over guns?" You didn't mean to sound accusing, but you were trying to paint out what had happened.

"Well... kind of? I mean, we worked out a deal."

"What deal?"

Glenn hesitates, trying to work the story without having to mention the more embarrassing details.

"They were taking care of a whole bunch of elderly people. They were just... abandoned."

You seem to relax at this, at least slightly. "They could've just shot you and taken everything." You're only half-serious but Glenn doesn't quite catch that.

"They really wanted to. Especially Daryl, he had-"

Glenn cuts himself off but he's already piqued your curiosity as you lean forward in your seat, urging Glenn to continue.

"Well, it was a little bit of a situation," Glenn starts exasperatedly. "They had taken one of us, we took one of theirs... It just- It happened really fast!"

"They kidnapped you?"

How bad of a liar is he? Glenn stutters but his lack of a coherent response is enough to fill in the blanks for you.

Your chest hurts strangely, your fingers messing nervously with the hard surface of your nails. You've begun to avoid looking at Glenn just as he glances at you, a heavy silence that a part of you is desperate to fill, nervous it will make Glenn stand and place his chair elsewhere.

You had been saved from answering questions from others about Glenn earlier but nothing was able to halt the constant thoughts you had about him. You're not sure how much longer you can keep running from it - you're not sure how much good it'll do.

"So, the CDC?" You asked, hoping Glenn's answer would help guide you towards one of your own.

"Rick thinks it's our best shot."

"And you trust him?" There was no mockery or accusation in your voice — only genuine curiosity.

Glenn looked down at his cap, nodding a little. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I do."

"You just met him," you noted quietly, knowing very well Glenn had met both you and Rick on the same day.

"You don't need to know someone for years to know you can trust them."

You looked up to see Glenn staring at you. Clearly, he wasn't just talking about Rick.

"That type of thinking could get you killed," you say quietly.

"Or it could save my life."

Live.

Your knee bounced anxiously as you thought about it. About what going with these people would mean.

It'd mean companions, for starters. No more nights fighting to stay awake, watching your own back. It'd mean splitting supplies. It'd mean strength in numbers.

You looked at Glenn again.

It could lead to something else, too.

"I'll go with you. To the CDC," you start softly, watching from the corner of your eye as Glenn's head snapped toward you, clearly in disbelief. "It sounds promising."

You barely knew Rick. You barely knew any of these people. But Glenn trusted Rick and you trusted Glenn. That's the only thing you were sure of now.

Glenn looked at you with a boyish, handsome grin and the corners of your lips raised to mirror his.

Your hand reached for Glenn's, interlacing your fingers with his. Your hands found his over and over — throughout the night, in the morning, as you packed into Dale's R.V. and towards the CDC. As you left Jim behind. As you almost died outside of the fortified building. As you finally made it inside.

The building was large and seemed safe enough — there was no way Dr. Jenner could have made it this far if it wasn't. But it wasn't until a large table full of food and drinks was set, laughter chiming in your ears, did you finally begin to relax.

A smile spread on your own face as Carl tries wine for this first time, his face morphing into one of disgust as the rest of you laughed. This mood, light and playful, was one you haven't experienced in who knows how long. There's a thick feeling of appreciation in your throat, hot and heavy in your chest. You're almost emotional, thinking of every sacrifice it took for you to be here, today, laughing and talking over dinner again.

But Shane, always solemn, can't seem to stand the uncharacteristic liveliness that has found the group tonight.

"So, when are you going to tell us what the hell happened here, doc?" The laughter is killed instantly, an uncomfortable silence falling on the once chattering table.

'We're celebrating, Shane," Rick starts, the tension between the former best friends particularly prominent. "Don't need to do this now."

Eyes flicker between the two with an occasional flicker to the doctor in the room, but downward gazes and quiet sips of wine offered neutrality from most.

"Woah, wait a second. This is why we're here, right? This was your move... Supposed to find all the answers. Instead, we found one man. Why?"

"Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. Went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."

"Every last one?" Shane asks dryly, suspiciously.

"No, many couldn't face walking out the door. They... opted out. There was a rash of suicides." Most shuffle uncomfortably, looking at anywhere but at Jenner. "That was a bad time."

"You didn't leave," Andrea notes, one of the only ones still invested in learning about Jenner. "Why?"

"I just kept working. Hoping... to do some good."

It's a good answer for most, no matter the somber tone. It's enough for you; you just hope that Shane's poking and prodding won't push the man that has seen too much too far. The last thing you want is to be kicked out now.

"Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man." Shane avoids Glenn's stare and you cross your arms, decisively done for the night.

Jenner gives you a small tour of the facility, mainly of the rooms you'll be occupying. A piece of you wonders what else there is, but the majority of you aches for a peaceful night.

Jenner has disappeared into a different room and the group has stopped in the middle of the hallway.

"Hot water?" Glenn glances to the rest of the group before his gaze lands on you, standing behind him.

"That's what the man said," T-Dog grins.

Glenn's smile is contagious, creeping up slowly despite you missing what Jenner said. But if Glenn is excited about it, it's got to be worth it.

The hot water on your skin completely is.

You try to savor each drop of water, relishing in the steam curling off the water. You can't remember the last time you had the luxury of hot water but you resign, letting everything roll off of you along with the water.

You scrub at your skin, mindlessly and too roughly, thinking about everything that has happened in the last few days. Everything about the last few months.

Your sister was dead. The guilt in your throat wasn't any easier to swallow.

Something had happened between Rick and Glenn on their trip back to Atlanta. Glenn stuck out his neck for Rick on that very first day that your paths had all crossed, so Rick risked his own for Glenn. At least there was someone else in the group that would do that for him.

Atlanta. Nothing in that overriden city could've prepared you for the overwhelming company you now found yourself traveling with. There was no ounce of you that imagined you might find someone to love again.

You shut the water off once you're sure you've scrubbed every crevice of yourself, your skin rubbed raw in a few places.

The towels you've been given are rough, thin, and terrible shields against the cold air that blasts through the facility but you don't mind. Nothing matters other than the feeling of the fresh clothes Jenner has managed to scrounge up, missing all the dirt and blood that's stained your clothes for months.

A part of you, as you settle into the first empty room you see, wonders how long it'll be until the clothes you're wearing now will be bloodstained again.

You've taken to cleaning off your knife, in the spirit of the fresh scent of soap sticking to your skin and the pristine condition of the garments on your body. You're careful not to stain anything with the shades of red and brown of your knife, barely lifting your head when you hear someone enter the room you've claimed.

"Sorry, didn't think anyone was in here..."

Glenn trails off when he spots your smile, your hand waving him over to the spot next to you. He takes it, body tense as he tries to keep his eyes off of you.

Glenn thought you were perfect before, but without the layer of grime on you, all he wants to do is stare.

Glenn thinks he's being sneaky until your eyes meet his, Glenn's already flushed face reddening even more.

He's too terrified to make a move, still wondering where it is he stands with you. You're not lovers as far as he's aware, though it's a losing battle on his side. Glenn thinks he'd do anything to get inside your head and see for himself what it was you thought about him. He wanted you to like him, desperately, his body aching for contact with yours. He wanted to kiss you until he memorized you and every one of your smiles.

But he'd take whatever it is you wanted to give him. He'd hold your hand whenever you reached for it, on your own terms, right up until you pulled away.

The sudden arrival of man-eating freaks had forced Glenn, for the most part, to mature; to learn how to fight, to look out for others in ways his shitty job as a delivery boy had not yet taught him. From one day to the next, he had outgrown the red uniform that always seemed to smell of food no matter how many times it was washed. Though no one cared to ask about the person Glenn was Before, he liked to think he was the same Glenn who had, with his own will, made it through high school and to college, on his own.

But, in some ways, Glenn still felt immature. All that time he had spent working and studying had left him with little free time for personal indulgences. He had never prioritized romance and now that it was here, in front of him, he found himself on his ass more often than on his feet.

The door opens again and Glenn’s head whips towards it like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t, his flushed face not doing him any favors. But it’s just Shane, so Glenn’s shoulders relax, eyes glancing over the man and landing on the bottle of bourbon in his hand.

Shane spares a sideways glance, eyes stuck on you as he takes a swig from the nearly empty bottle. Glenn’s eyes follow Shane’s and eventually fall on you, too; notably, the knife in your lap, practically shining from how much you’d been wiping it.

"You're a real whiz with that knife.” Shane props himself against the doorframe, probably to keep from stumbling. There’s a sudden smile on his face, too wide to put you at ease. “Good thing I stopped ya from leaving that first night, huh?"

Shane grins through his words as he takes another swig, eyes still stuck on you as Glenn stands. He’s turned towards you, eyes searching for any indication that Shane is just drunk, or out of his mind; but you’re stuck, eyebrows drawn and lips set in a straight line as you stare at Shane right back.

Glenn steps into Shane’s line of sight, effectively breaking the wordless confrontation. Shane’s eyes move to him now, trying to slip past Shane wordlessly. Shane shifts, blocking Glenn’s way. But before he can speak, Glenn has shoved his way into the hallway.

"I'm just looking out for you, man!" Shane calls behind him before his lips find the top of the bottle again.

You’re in front of Shane before you can help it, eyes trying to follow Glenn. But just as he did before, Shane has turned toward you, his large build blocking any easy ways out.

"Why didn't you just kill me that night, then? I know you wanted to."

"That's not true.” There’s a grin on Shane’s face that tells you he’s lying.

"Yeah."

The look of amusement on Shane’s face drops. He has learned from last time and fights back when you try to push past him. One of his hands keeps you pinned to the doorframe, pressing painfully on your shoulder.

“You’re just another mouth to feed,” Shane drawls, his breath reeking of alcohol. “You don’t deserve a guy like Glenn.”

There was more to it, you were sure. Glenn had told you that Shane was their leader and wasn’t fond of newcomers. Especially when one wanted his wife and kid back.

You could tell Shane felt challenged by Rick despite their history. Maybe Shane thought of you as a wildcard, neither loyal to him nor Rick. But if you would stick with Glenn, who would clearly follow Rick anywhere, weren’t you a threat?

You pushed Shane’s arm forcefully, the alcohol in his bottle swishing as he stumbles.

“You should’ve killed me,” you say, smiling suddenly. “You’re not getting another chance.”

Glenn moves down the hallway briskly, his feet taking him further and further away from you. There’s that feeling in your chest again, the same one you felt with Glenn back at the camp you had abandoned. It was fear, but it wasn’t the familiar kind that you’d spent months fighting along with the walkers. This one was thicker, heavier, putting a pressure on your chest that made it difficult to breathe. Unfortunately, you had come to care about Glenn Rhee.

And as Glenn walks away, he feels as though he has, once again, found himself on his ass.

#glenn rhee x reader #glenn rhee x you #glenn rhee fanfiction #the walking dead x reader #twd #the walking dead #twd x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #glenn rhee imagine #the walking dead x you #glenn rhee fluff #glenn rhee smut #v + glenn #v writes

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scarisd3ad · 1 year

Text

To the end and back [daryl Dixon x reader]

Chapter two - right where you left me

Masterlist

Taglist

Summary - after the world ended you were sure you’d never find love again but a certain archer catches your eyes and changes the entire trajectory of your life.

Warnings - regular twd warnings

Previous >> next

Season 1 ep 3

'Tell it to the frog'

Edited

We all sat around waiting for the others to return from their supply run to Atlanta. Glenn, Merle, Morales, Andrea, Jacqui, and T dog had gone on a supply run while Daryl had gone hunting. I sat talking to Lori and Shane as Lori cut Carl's hair and Shane cleaned his rifle. Carl isn't pleased about his haircut. He fidgets around and has a pout on his face the entire time. "Baby, the more you fidget, the longer it takes, so don't, okay?" Lori says as she combs out her son's hair, snipping little pieces at once. "I'm trying." Carl whines. "Well, try harder." Lori says, trying to focus on Carl's haircut. I laugh. Carl must've not had a haircut since before the outbreak because he was beginning to grow a little mullet. "If you think this is bad, wait till you start shaving. That stings." Shane laughs. "That day comes; you'll be wishing for one of your mama's haircuts." Shane says as he inspects his gun.

"I'll believe that when I see it" Carl says, making Shane and I chuckle. "I'll tell you what... you just get through this with some manly dignity, and tomorrow, I'll teach you something special. I will teach you to catch frogs." Shane says as he's taking apart his rifle. Lori smiles as she continues to cut Carl's hair. "I've caught a frog before," Carl states as he turns a bit, causing Lori to readjust his head. "I said frogs' plural, and it is an art, my friend. It is not to be taken lightly. There are ways and means. Few people know about it." I remember catching frogs on my grandfather's farm as a young kid. I'd take them back to my grandma and grandpa. Grandpa would be proud, but Grandma was always so disgusted by them. She hated that Grandpa would cook them up and eat them. "I'm willing to share my secrets."

Carl looks back at his mom, brows furrowed. "Oh, I'm a girl. You talk to him." Lori says, turning her son's head back towards Shane. "I used to catch frogs," I say. Carl turns his head towards me, brows furrowed again. "You did?" He asks. Lori turns Carls head straight again. "Yep, on my grandpa's farm when I was your age with my brother." Shane raised his eyebrows. "Brother? you have a brother?" Carl asks. I nod. "had a brother," I correct. Matthew, my little brother, was 2 years younger than me; he had dirty blonde hair as he got older and bright blue eyes that will be ingrained in my memories forever. He died 1 day into the outbreak. I miss him every day I go on without him. I wish he'd met these people because he'd love them. "My grandpa used to cook them up on Sunday nights."

"Why'd he cook them?" Carl asks, face contorting in confusion. "You never eat frog legs?" Shane asks. "Eww!" Carl says, his face contorting from confusion into a disgusted look. "No, yum!" Shane corrects as he leans back in his chair a bit. "No, he's right. Eww," Lori contradicts, "they're actually really good, Carl" I say as I fold my arms over my chest. Every day I wake up, I find these people becoming more and more like family than my actual one ever was to me. "You see, she knows what I'm talkin' bout!" Shane says, pointing towards me, which makes me laugh. Lori scrunches up her face in disgust. "When we get down to that last can of beans, you're gonna be loving those frog legs, lady. I can see it now 'Shane, do you think I could have a second helping, please? Ju..just one?'" Shane says, dropping his country accent to imitate Lori. "Yeah, I doubt that." Lori says with an eye roll as both she and Shane laugh.

I turn to see Amy; she's worried about her sister. She should've been back hours ago, but they aren't yet. Dale is standing on top of his RV with a pair of binoculars, just looking out at the road. "I'm..I'm gonna go check in on Amy," I say as I stand up.

Amy is sitting in a chair under the awning of Dale's RV. "You alright, Am's?" I ask she nods slowly. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she mumbles, "They should've been back hours ago." "I'm sure they'r-" I'm cut off by a car alarm blaring. Amy jumps up, and so does Shane. "Talk to me, Dale!" He shouts as he runs towards the RV.

"I can't tell yet," Dale says before looking through his binoculars. "Is it them? Are they back?" Amy asks. "I'll be damned," Dale mutters as we watch a bright red car drive towards our camp. That car is shouting up a storm, probably drawing every Walker in at least a mile's radius towards us. "What is it?" Amy asks.

"A stolen car is my guess."

Lori has her arm wrapped around Carl and one above her eyes, shielding her eyes from the sun. The car pulls in, and we all run towards it. Out comes Glenn. Such a dumbass. I roll my eyes because that boy always seems to do the stupidest goddamn shit. "Holy crap. Turn that damn thing off!" Dale shouts. "I don't know how!" Glenn says with a shrug and the biggest goddamn smile on his face. I run over, pulling him into a hug. I can't lie and say I haven't been a big bag of nerves since he left because I have, but hugging him always makes me feel better.

"Pop the hood, please. Pop the damn hood, please." Shane says, patting the hood of the car harshly.

I let go of Glenn as Amy runs up. "My sister, Andrea-" she's cut off by Shane shouting, "Pop the damn hood!" and him banging on the hood a bit harder. Shane is very upfront with his role as a leader. He's strong, demanding, and the type of person everyone tends to hate, but I've found it easy to get along with him most of the time. He can be an asshole sometimes, but ever since he promised to keep me safe, I've found it easy to understand why he does what he does.

"What, okay, okay. Yeah, yeah, yeah," Glenn says, retreating back into his car. Amy is still right at Glenn's side, asking about Andrea. Glenn pops the hood, and Shane gets to work on the vehicle. "Is she okay? Is she all right?" Amy asks, demanding an answer from Glenn as he gets out of the car again. "She's okay! She's okay!" Glenn shouts. Amy's brows furrow, but she does let out a tiny sigh of relief as she asks, "Is she coming back?"

"Yes!"

Amy goes right back into panic mode. "Why isn't she with you? Where is she? Is She okay?" Amy continues to interrogate Glenn, "Yes! Fine. Everybody is." Almost everyone lets out a relieved sigh. We had been knotted up in webs of anxiety all day. "Well, Merle, not so much." No one really worried much about Merle. He could be loud, never listened to anyone, and was obnoxious at times, especially when he was mad. It'd be good to get rid of him. "Are you crazy, drivin' this wailin' bastard up here? You tryin' to draw every Walker for miles?" Shane scolds Glenn as he stands with both hands set on the car's hood. The car was a stupid thing to do; it could've drawn every person and Walker to our location. "I think we're okay," Dale says quietly. "You call being stupid, okay?" Shane argues. Glenn finally turns to me, wrapping his arms around me. "M'glad you're alright," I whisper as I wrap my arms around his neck. he sighs as I lean my head onto his shoulder.

"Well, the alarm was echoing all over these hills. Hard to pinpoint the source," Dale explains. Shane turns around with both hands on his hips, giving Dale a look that tells everyone, 'Don't argue with me.' "I'm not arguing. I'm just saying," Dale says with a shrug. It's almost like Dale can read everyone's expressions because I don't think most people could read Shane like that. "It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?" Dale says, raising his voice a bit at Glenn. Glenn lets go of me and says, "Sorry. Got a cool car." with a shrug. I roll my eyes. It's weird, we're going through the zombie fucking apocalypse, and Glenn can still be the sweetest, funniest, happiest man I've ever met.

A large moving truck pulls in next, making everyone focus on it instead of Glenn. Morales steps out first and then Andrea from the back. "Amy," Andrea says as she runs towards her sister. "Andrea!" Amy cries out. The sisters embrace tightly.

"You scared the shit out of me." Amy cries with a little laugh. Morales's kids are running towards their father. "Papi! Daddy!" They cry out as they embrace their father. We all watch the lovely moments between family members. It hurts a bit to us members of the group who've lost family members along the way, but it's nice to see how happy they get. The closest person to a family I have in the group is Glenn. I get so excited to see his face after he goes out in the city. We never know if it's the last time we'll see each other; one day, they could go out and never return. Glenn wraps his arm around my shoulder and whispers, "Got you something while we were out; I'll show you later."

"You are a welcome sight. I thought we had lost you folks for sure." Dale says as he embraces Morales. "How'd y'all get out of there anyway?" Shane speaks up. Morales looks back to the moving truck before saying, "New guy...he got us out." I furrow my brows. I was pretty sure we were the last people alive; we hadn't seen other people since the early days of the outbreak. "New guy?" Shane asks with his brows furrowed together.

"Yeah, crazy Vato just got into town." Morales says as he turns to the moving truck and hollers, "Hey, helicopter boy! Come say hello!"

Out comes a slim brunette man in a police uniform. He's got both hands on his hips as he walks up a few inches. "The guys a cop like you." Morales tells Shane. The guy looks out of breath as he looks over the group. He points towards Lori and Carl before whispering, "Oh my god." And speed walking towards Carl, who's now running towards him. "Dad! Dad!" Carl cries out. The guy kneels down as Carl runs into his arms. Lori is just behind him. Both boys fall to the ground hugging. I'm just now realizing this is Lori's husband, the dead husband Shane had told me about. Lori wasn't one to talk much about him, but Shane and Carl talked about him a lot, mostly reminiscing. Shane talked about how they worked together in the force, and he died at the beginning of the outbreak, but that man wasn't dead. He picks up his son and walks towards Lori. Lori hugs him. She's in disbelief. Then Lori looked up at Shane with the most betrayed facial expression I'd ever seen. I learned from Lori that her husband got shot and went into a coma. Shane told her he died in the hospital. But obviously, he's not dead. He's right here in front of us. I understand that it could've been an accident; he might've not even heard a heartbeat, but the look on Shane's face tells me otherwise.

We're all sat around the fire, listening to who I've learned to be Rick tells us how he miraculously woke up and survived. I've got my head in Glenn's lap, and his left arm wrapped around me. "Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented." Carl is laying in Rick's lap, and Lori sits beside them. "Fear, confusion..all those things, but..disoriented comes closest." Thunder is coming from a few miles away, which doesn't worry me much; it just frightens me every time it strikes. "Words can be meager things. Sometimes they fall short," Dale says. Glenn gently caresses my arm with his thumb as Rick says, "I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else." the crickets provide an excellent background for the silence of the night, so it's not just the dark and the loud groans, and growls of walkers in the city. "For a while, I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from ever."

"Mom said you died." Carl says quietly. Lori looks at her husband worriedly, like he'd be mad if she told their son that, but he doesn't seem upset. "She had every reason to believe that. Don't you ever doubt it." Rick places his hand on his son's cheek, caressing it lightly, while Lori's hand gently pushes her son's hair back. "When things started to get really bad, they told me at the hospital that they were gonna medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta..." she pauses for a second before continuing, "...and it never happened."

"Well, I'm not surprised after Atlanta fell." Lori nods, whispering "yeah"

"And from the look of that hospital, it got overrun." Rick adds the last time I was in the city, it was absolutely overrun; no one was alive, and the entire place had been taken over by the dead. "Yeah, looks don't deceive. I barely got them out...you know?" Rick looks at Shane, making direct eye contact. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane...I can't begin to express it." Shane doesn't answer. He stares at Rick, unable to answer; he has a guilty look on his face that says more than words could ever. "There go those words falling short again..paltry things. " Dale says with a chuckle. I look up at Glenn, who's staring ahead at the fire, zoned out, but when he notices I'm looking up at him, he grins.

Before all this, I was 2 years into med school, living in a shitty apartment with 2 shitty roommates. I wanted to be a doctor. That was dream ever since I was little. Little me was wise to choose that because now the 2 years of training I did does work out. After all, now I'm the group's "doctor." my knowledge doesn't help with complex issues because I had only been in med school for 2 years, but I'm a pro with the basics.

Lori is cuddled up in Rick's arms but staring at Shane with a terrified look. Shane looks mad, maybe jealous even. Ed stands up, throwing another log into the fire.

"Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?" We all look at Ed like we're in elementary school again, looking at him like, 'Ooo, you're in trouble'. "It's cold, man." Ed says with his head leaned back before it falls forward a bit. "The cold doesn't change the rules, does it?" Shane says, looking over at Ed. "Keep our fires low, just embers, so we can't be seen from a distance, right?" Shane says just to explain to Rick since his eyebrows are furrowed. "I said it's cold. You should mind your own business for once." Ed argues. It wasn't a good thing to argue with Shane; he's our leader, he makes the rules, and he tells people what to do. If he says no, it means no, that's it. Shane pushes himself to his feet, walks over, and grabs something. I can't really tell what it is. He walks behind Ed, patting him on the back. "Hey, Ed....are sure you want to have this conversation, man?" He asks softly, "Go on. Pull the damn thing out. Go on!"

Carol Ed's wife sits quietly, almost embarrassed of her husband's actions. Finally, she seems fed up with her husband's childish behavior, so she stands up, grabs the log out of the fire, and throws it on the ground. "Christ," Shane mutters. Carol isn't one to really stand up to her husband; I can tell because the look on Ed's face is terrifying. She then walks back around and sits beside her daughter as Shane stomps on the log until it's no longer on fire. Shane kneels down close to Sophia and Carol. "Hey, Carol, Sophia, how are y'all this evening?" He asks.

"Fine. We're just fine." Ed is staring daggers over at his wife. "I'm sorry about the fire." Carol says quietly, almost like she doesn't want her husband to hear. "No, no, no. No apology needed. Y'all have a good night, okay?"

"Thank you," Carol whispers. Sophia looks down at her feet the entire time like she's scared of what her father will do later. "I appreciate the cooperation." Shane stands up and walks back over to his spot. "Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind." Dale says. Daryl wouldn't be happy; he and his brother were the only family they had left. Even though they didn't get along well, he'd be upset.

"I'll tell him. I dropped the key. It's on me." T-dog says quietly. "I cuffed him. That makes it mine." Rick replies. "Guys, it's not a competition. I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy." Glenn says, his arm still wrapped around me, drawing small circles on my upper arm. The Dixon brothers...well, at least Merle was very racist, and I wouldn't be surprised if Daryl was, too. "I did what I did. Hell, if I'm gonna hide from him."

"We could lie." Amy says from her spot curled up in her sister's arms. "Or tell the truth," Andrea sighs. She's right. We needed to tell Daryl the truth; if we didn't, and he found out we lied, our consequences would be worse. "Merle was out of control. Something had to be done, or he'd have gotten us killed." She was right again; Merle was out of control, and there was never a way to calm him or tell him what to do. Even if Shane tried, he couldn't. Merle was his own boss, and God bless the person who tried to boss him around. "Your husband did what was necessary, and if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's." Andrea says to Lori. "And that's what we tell Daryl?" Dale asks. I don't think Daryl would just take that as an answer for why we left his brother behind, even if he knew how stubborn his brother was. "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?" Dale asks, shaking his head. Dale was a wise older man, like our group's grandfather or even father. He was rational and knew how to survive. People like Shane say that this world wasn't made for Dale, but we'd be dead without Dale. "Word to the wise...we're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt." We would. Daryl would probably throw a fit and try to hurt someone. He was similar to his brother in expressing his anger through yelling and fists.

"I was scared, and I ran. I'm not ashamed of it," T-dog says with his arms crossed over his chest. "We were all scared. We all ran. What's your point?" Andrea asks. "I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that..not that chain, not that padlock. My point...my point is..dixon's alive, and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us." T-dog says before getting up and walking away.

"Hey, can I stay in your tent tonight to stay warm?" Glenn whispers just loud enough for me to hear. I nod as I look up at him. I stand up, pushing myself off the ground, and hold my hand out for him to grab. I pull him up, and he wraps his arm around my shoulder. "We're gonna head to bed, goodnight," Glenn says.

We walk towards my tent, his arm still wrapped around me.

He unwraps his arm around me so I can unzip my tent. He gets in first and sits crisscrossed on the far-left side. I get in and then zip the tent back up. I lay down, wrapping myself in blankets, trying to avoid freezing to death. "Do you think this will ever like end?" Glenn asks. I shrug. "I hope so," I whisper. He lays down beside me, propping his head up with his arm. "If this does end, we should get an apartment together." He nods in agreement even though we both know it'll probably never happen. It's so weird. I've only known Glenn for about 2 months, but he knows me better than anyone. It could be because we have so much time to talk. "Where were you before you came here?" I ask in a whispered tone. He lets out a small sigh before saying, "Macon...ended up getting stuck in a pharmacy in Macon with a group of people. they went to some motel, but I ended up leaving to go to Atlanta." I nod before he adds, "They ended up giving me a walkie to keep in touch, but it hasn't worked since I left," he whispers as he lets his head fall onto the pillow. "Do you still have it?" I ask. He nods before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a small walkie-talkie with stickers on it. I smile as I ask, "Why is it covered in stickers?" with a laugh. "A little girl in the group gave it to me," he says with a small smile. I let out a small sigh as we sat in a comfortable silence together for a few seconds.

"You should go to bed, Glenn," I mumble as I scoot closer to him. "Mhm, I will." I cuddle up next to him, wrapping my arms around his torso. "Don't stay up too late now," I mumble into his chest. "I won't," he says. I can tell he's smiling by the way he says it.

I wake up to the sound of birds chirping and the sunlight peering through the sheer fabric of my tent. Glenn's no longer in the tent. He must've gotten up earlier. I push myself off the ground and crawl over to unzip my tent. I get out, zip it back up, and walk over to where the rest of the group is hanging out.

Carol is leaving some clothes out to dry when I walk up to her. "Morning," I say. She gives me a weak smile but replies, "Morning." She washed Rick's clothes. She's a sweet lady, definitely didn't deserve her asshat of a husband.

Glenn is standing, staring at his red car, arms crossed over his chest. Dale and some other guys are striping it clean of gas and anything they need from the vehicle. Glenn's pissed. I walk over to him. "Look at 'em. Vultures." He grumbles. I give him a weak smile as he says, "Yeah, go on, strip it clean." sarcastically. "Generators need every drop of fuel they can get. I have no power without it. Sorry, Glenn," Dale says, patting Glenn's back as he walks by with a gas can. "Thought I'd get to drive it at least a few more days." Glenn mumbles. He's very obviously upset. I wrap an arm around him. "We'll get you another one like it, Glenn," I say, trying to comfort him. He gives me a weak smile. "yeah, maybe."

Glenn and I walk away from the car "are..are you guys gonna try and rescue Merle?" I ask. Glenn shrugs. "It's up to Shane," Glenn says. I nod. I wanted to go. I hadn't been out into the city since the beginning of the outbreak. I wanted to go on a supply run like Andrea got to, but I was never fucking allowed to! I could handle myself. I survived long enough to get here, but Shane was always against it. He always had some lame ass excuse to not let me go. I understood he just wanted to protect me, but if I didn't get experience fighting walkers, I would die if some came stumbling onto our camp.

Shane drives up in his jeep with water. "Waters here, y'all. Just a reminder to boil before use," he says as he exits. A couple of us walk over to Shane's car and help him carry the water jugs. I grab one, but Shane immediately takes it from me. I hate how he sees me as a child incapable of doing things alone.

A blood-curdling scream breaks our attention from the water. "MOM!" Carl screams. Rick and Lori immediately start sprinting towards their son's cries. "DAD!" Carl screams again. "Baby!" Lori yells. Shane is now also flying towards the screams of two children with a shotgun. "MAMA! MOMMY!"

"CARL!" Lori cries out as she's trying to find her child. "CARL! Baby!" Both Sophia and Carl come running out of the forest. Lori falls to her knees with Carl in her arms, examining him, ensuring there are no bites or scratches. "Nothing bit you, nothing scratched you?" Lori says, hugging at her child.

Most of us are also running that way with guns and weapons. "No, I'm okay," Carl says. Both children seem shaken up by whatever they had seen in the woods.

We finally find the Walker that the kids saw. It's in a small clearing surrounded by trees feasting on a dead deer. I scrunch up my nose in disgust. It smells horrible. Walkers smell awful, like shit, and death. It's just pure death. I stand back as the men go ham on the thing. Beating, stabbing it, you name it, they did it. The sound of leaves crunching makes Shane raise his gun.

Amy and Andrea are standing behind me. We're all preparing for the worst: another walker, maybe a horde of them. But then out pops Daryl with his crossbow and about a dozen dead squirrels. Shane lowers his gun but mutters, "Oh, Jesus." In an almost 'oh god, it's him' tone. "Son of a bitch." Daryl curses as he pushes his way through some branches and over some rocks. "That's MY deer!" As Daryl walks towards it, Rick, Morales, and Glenn step away from the deer. "Look at it. All gnawed on by this..." he then began to kick at the Walker.

"..FILTHY.." kick "..DISEASE-BEARING.." kick "..MOTHERLESS.." kick "..POXY BASTARD!"

"Calm down, son, that's not helping," Dale says, not trying to create conflict but to calm the angered man down. Daryl took it as wanting to cause a conflict, though, so he stomps over to Dale, "What do you know about it, old man?! Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to 'On Golden Pond'!" He shouts before turning back around and walking back towards the deer and Walker.

He sighs as he leans over. "I've been trackin' this deer for miles." He pulls out about three arrows from the deer. "Was gonna drag it back to camp, cook us until some venison." He then pulls out a knife. "What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed-up part right here?" He asks as he leans over the deer and points to the gnawed parts of the deer with his knife. "I would not risk that." Shane replies. The deer looks definitely non-salvageable. Its guts are spilling out and just totally gnawed on. If we tried to eat it, we'd definitely get infected. Daryl sighs. "That's a damn shame." He then turns to the squirrels he has. "I got some squirrels—about a dozen or so. That'll have to do," he sighs.

The Walker's decapitated head then twitches, which is a sight to see. It disgusts Amy, who says, "Oh god." Like she's about to throw up. Andrea then escorts her away from the Walker and probably back to camp. "Come on, people. What the hell?" Daryl says as he shoots the Walker straight in the head. He pulls the arrow out of the Walker. "It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothin'?" He says with an eye roll. He walks past me, giving me a slight smile.

We follow him as he walks back to camp. "Merle!" He shouts. Everyone's giving each other looks like 'who's gonna tell him?' "Merle! Get your ugly ass out here!" He shouts again. "I got us some squirrel! Let's stew'em up." He says, putting his crossbow down.

Shane decides he will tell him; he is the un-proclaimed group leader, after all. "Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane says. Daryl stops and turns around. "bout what?" He asks, brows furrowed. We're all stopped just a few feet away, watching. We're all crossing our fingers, hoping this won't end badly. "Bout Merle." Shane says as he continues walking past Daryl, "There was a—there was a problem in Atlanta." Shane stops and turns around, putting his hands on his hips. Daryl looks around as we're all kind of gathered around watching. "He dead?" Daryl asks. "We're not sure." As Daryl's brows furrow, Shane replies, "he either is or he ain't!" Rick then steps up and walks over to where Shane and Daryl are. "No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."

"Who are you?"

"Rick Grimes." Rick replies in his heavy country accent. Someone was going to get hurt; I just knew it. I'm leaning against Shane's jeep, with Glenn standing beside me as we watch. "Rick grimes! you got something you want to tell me?" Daryl shouts angrily. God, I just hope no one gets hurt too bad because I'll have to fix them up.

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there." Rick explains. I can just see Daryl's blood boiling. If steam could come out of his ears, it would be. Daryl turns around, wiping at his eyes like he was about to cry. "Hold on. Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you left him there?!" He shouts with tears in his eyes. I actually feel bad for Daryl. If someone had chained my brother up on a roof with Walker able to get to him, I'd be just as angry. "yeah." Rick says quietly. Daryl's face is all scrunched up in anger. He turns around just a bit before launching the squirrels at Rick.

Shane immediately gets in between the two, tackling Daryl to the ground. Daryl falls to the ground with a grunt. T-dog drops the logs he was carrying and is just about to jump in when Daryl pulls out his knife and pushes himself off the ground. "watch the knife!" T-dog shouts. Daryl then tries to swing at Rick but misses. Rick grabs one of Daryl's arms, and Shane comes behind him, both men holding him back. Rick takes a step back, letting Shane take over. "Okay, okay," Shane says, trying to stop Daryl from struggling. We all knew this would happen; Daryl was violent. "You'd best let me go!" Daryl shouts.

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't." Shane's arms are around Daryl's neck in a choke hold, and Daryl grunts and tries to escape Shane's grip. "Choke hold's illegal," Daryl grunts as Shane gets him to the ground. "You can file a complaint," Shane replies sarcastically.

"Come on, man. We'll keep this up all day." Shane warns as Rick kneels down next to Daryl. "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?" Rick asks Daryl. Daryl doesn't answer. Just continues to wriggle around, trying to get out of their hold. "Do you think we can manage that?" Rick repeats like he's talking to a toddler. Daryl is panting, but let's say, "mhm, yeah." Shane lets him go harshly. "what I did was not on a whim." Rick says, still kneeling down next to Daryl. Daryl's still panting as Rick says, "Your brother does not work and play well with others." Daryl stares at the ground as Rick talks to him. "It's not Rick's fault. I had the key." T-dog says. Both men look up at T-dog. "I dropped it." Daryl's brows furrow. "you couldn't pick it up?!" Daryl asks loudly.

"Well, I dropped it in a drain."

Daryl lets out a loud scoff as he looks down at the ground on his hands and knees. He pushes himself off the ground. "if it's supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't." He says harshly as he throws a handful of rocks back onto the ground as walks past t-dog. "Well, maybe this will.." t-dog says. Daryl stops as t-dog continues, "look, I chained the door to the roof—so the geeks couldn't get at him...with a padlock."

"It's gotta count for something," Rick says. Daryl sighs before wiping his eyes again "hell with all y'all!" Daryl shouts as tears begin to form in his eyes once again. "Just tell me where he is," Daryl says desperately, like he's falling apart without his brother. Even though the two fought like cats and dogs, you could tell they loved each other. "so, I can go get him."

"He'll show you, isn't that, right?" Lori says with one hand on the RV door. Rick's breathing heavily as he looks around. "I'm goin' back." Lori lets out a sigh before climbing into the RV angrily. I understand Lori's anger; she doesn't want her husband, whom she hasn't seen in 2 months, to leave again.

"Are you going back?" I ask, turning to Glenn. "If they want me to yeah." Glenn replies with a nod. "I want to go too," I whisper; Glenn's eyes widen. "You can't," he says; I cross my arms over my chest and let out an angry sigh. I don't know why every man I know chooses to treat me like a child. "I can, and I will. I don't give two fucks what you say." Glenn sighs and places a hand on my shoulder. "You. Can't." I scoff and roll my eyes. "I'm goin' anyways. You can't stop me," I say as I push his arm off me and walk over to Shane.

"I'm going with them." Shane laughs but quickly realizes I'm serious, and his smile drops. "no, you're not." I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. I don't know when he will realize I'm a few years older than Glenn. If Glenn can handle himself out there, so can I. "I can handle myself out there. I want to help!" Shane laughs and grabs my upper arm harshly. "I'm sure you can, but I'm protecting you." I hate how he always uses the excuse that he's protecting me: "I'm not a kid. I can help!" I shout; he rolls his eyes and says, "You sure are actin' like one. If you want to help, cook something or wash some clothes." I push him off of me and scoff. "Fuck you."

Rick walks out of his family's tent, dressed in his police uniform. I'll ask him. Maybe he's not like Shane. "Hey, Rick!" I say, running up to him. He stops, brows furrowed together. I realize I haven't really introduced myself, so I say, " I'm y/n, I have a question." he nods in response, so I say, "Can I go with y'all?" He sighs and looks at me like, 'Do you have any experience?' "I was in that city for a week with only a knife. I know my way around the place," he sighs again, asking, "Can you shoot a gun?" I nod. I've been able to shoot a gun since I was 7 years old. That's just the pros of growing up in rural Georgia with a grandpa who loved to hunt. "I don't care as long as you can handle yourself." I smile. I turn towards Shane, who has a scowl on his face. I grin just to piss him off.

I watch as Rick walks over to Shane; they have a hushed conversation. Shane's obviously pissed about something, maybe it's me, perhaps it's Rick leaving again. Rick begins to walk off while Shane follows shortly behind.

I think Glenn's pissed at me too. I understand he cares about me a lot, but I want to prove myself to the group. I want them to know I'm not just some helpless girl that needs protecting. I walk over to him; he's got his arms crossed with a worried look on his face. "You going with them?" He asks. I nod, and he loudly sighs, "What if you get hurt?" I rolled my eyes; I had been out in that city with only a knife as a weapon for a week. I know how to protect myself. "I'm not. I can handle myself. I did it before," I say, trying to comfort him, but it doesn't seem to work. He grabs my hand and whispers, "Why would you risk your life for Merle Dixon?" with his brows furrowed. I shrug, and He sighs as he drops my hand. "You give me so much anxiety, y/n," he says with a laugh; I laugh as well and say, "And you think you don't do the same to me?" He rolls his eyes before He smiles and grabs my hand.

Shane and Rick walk back into the area where everyone else is bickering. "So, you and Daryl, that's your big plan?" Lori asks Rick from her spot sitting by our campfire. Rick turns to both me and Glenn. Glenn lets out a groan. "Oh, come on." I laugh because he should have known he'd have to go, too. After all, he's our designated errand-runner. "You know the way. You've been there before...in and out, no problem. You said so yourself." Glenn takes his hat off and runs his hand through his hair. "It's not fair of me to ask, I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you alone. I know she would, too." Rick says, turning to his wife. "That's just great. Now you're not only going to risk y/n's life but three of our men, huh?"

"Four," t-dog corrects.

Daryl huffs. "My day just gets better and better, don't it?" Daryl says as he cleans his arrows. "You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brothers, cracker ass?" T-dog retorts, which makes me laugh because it is quite a coincidence that T-dog is stepping up to help when Merle hates him. "Why you?" Daryl demands. "You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language."

Dale walks over and says, "That's four."

"It's not just four. You're putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. Come on, you saw that, Walker. It was here. It was in camp. They're moving out of the cities. They come back; we need every ablebody we've got, " Shane says, getting closer to Rick. "We need 'em here. We need 'em to protect the camp." he's pissed. He doesn't want us out there anymore, especially for Merle. He didn't give a shit about any of us, only himself, so why were we even going. To make ourselves feel better, to not have that guilt on our backs.

"It seems to me what you really need most here...are more guns."

"Right, the guns." Glenn says, slowly walking forward. Everyone, including me, needs clarification about what he's talking about. "Wait, what guns?" Shane asks with his eyebrows furrowed. "Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns." Rick states. "I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped it when I got swarmed in Atlanta. It's just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up." Rick explained. "Ammo?" Shane asks quietly. "700 rounds, assorted." Rick confirms. Shane bows his head, thinking about what we should do. "You went through hell to find us. Yo-you just got here, and you're gonna turn around and leave?" Lori just couldn't understand why he would risk his life, leaving again. But we needed those guns and ammo. Finding Merle would just be a side quest. "Dad, I-I don't want you to go." Carl stutters out. "To hell with the guns. Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He's not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in." Shane runs his hands through his hair as Rick walks towards Lori. Lori stands up and says, "Tell me. Make me understand."

"I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy." Lori looks down at Carl like, 'We have a kid too?!' Rick grabs Lori's hand. "Lori, if they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died." He says quietly, "It's because of them that I made it back to you at all. They said they'd follow me to Atlanta. they'll walk into the same trap I did if I don't warn him." Lori looks down at her feet before whispering, "What's stoppin' you?" Rick sighs before saying, "the walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped, he's got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer."

Shane's now sat down by his jeep, rubbing at his face, stressed, he's stressed. What are you really supposed to do in this situation? We really need those guns, but we could lose people if we did it. "These are our walkies?" Shane asks. Rick nods and says, "Yeah." with a sigh. "So, use the c.b...what's wrong with that?" Andrea suggests. "The c.b's fine. It's the walkies that suck to crap..date back to the '70s, don't match any other bandwidth, not even the scanners in our cars" Shane explains. Lori avoids Rick's eye contact, looking just behind or at her feet. "I need that bag." Lori doesn't reply. She's just speechless. Rick walks past Lori and to their son. He kneels down in front of Carl. "okay?" Carl just nods. "All right," Rick whispers as he ruffles Carls's hair.

Glenn turns to me. "We're both coming back alive. I swear if you don't, I will literally kill you." I let out a laugh. "Well then, if you don't, I'll do the same," he smiles. "Deal?" "Deal." We both laugh as I lean my head onto his shoulder.

I'm sitting in my tent, riffling through my belongings, looking for the handgun my granddad lent me before I headed off to college. I finally found it hidden under a pile of blankets. I stuffed it into my bag and stepped out of my tent. Glenn's already in the large truck Rick and them brought back. Daryl's in the back with t-dog, while Glenn's in the front. I walk over and hop up into the back with Daryl. "You find your gun?" Glenn asks as he turns back towards me. I nod as I take a seat on the metal floor. Rick and Shane walk up to the back of the truck. Shane places down a large black bag. "Hey, Rick, got any rounds in the python?" Shane asks. "No," Rick replies, shaking his head. "Last time we were on the gun range, I'm sure I wound up with a few loose rounds of yours."

Daryl sits next to me and takes my gun out of my hand. He examines it briefly before asking, "You know how to use this, darlin'?" I scoff and roll my eyes. "Yeah, I do," I say as I grab my gun back from him and tuck it back into my bag. "You know how to use that?" I ask sarcastically as I point to his crossbow. He laughs, "Of course I fuckin' do." Rick and Shane walk away, and Daryl stands up. He walks over and closes the back of the truck. The truck starts up, and we're going.

We're driving over some train tracks, which is a bit bumpy but not too bad. "He'd better be okay. It's my only word on the matter." Daryl says to T-dog it's a warning; if Merle isn't alive, he's going to hurt someone, and it'll probably be T-dog. "He will," I whisper. Of course, he will. He's fucking Merle. He'd be able to be hit by a truck, and he'd still be alright. "I told you the geeks can't get to him," T-dog says, leaning his head against the metal wall of the truck. "The only thing that's gonna get through that door is us." t-dog adds.

We come to a slow stop, and Glenn takes out the keys. he then turns to us, "We walk from here." We all get out of the car. Both T-dog and Daryl hop out first, then me.

Glenn pushes a broken part of a wired fence out of the way so we can all get through. "Merle first or guns?" Rick asks as he turns around towards us. "Merle! We ain't even having this conversation!" Daryl shouts. "We are." Rick says and then turns to Glenn, "You know the geography. It's your call." Glenn sighs before saying, "Merle's closest. The guns would mean doubling back. Merle first." a little out of breath. Daryl's definitely happy about that.

We're walking through a department store, and we're all a little on Guard. I've got my gun held out, ready to shoot any moment. We hear a Walker shuffling around, so we all freeze. Rick spots it and points it out to us before we slowly walk around the store, trying to stay as quiet and out of sight as possible. Daryl approaches the rotten, growling thing, and he raises his crossbow "damn, you are one ugly skank." He mutters. It starts to growl at him, getting ready to lunge, but he quickly shoots it straight in the head. It falls to the ground with a thud, and Daryl quickly pulls his arrow out of its head.

We made it to the top with hardly any more walker interference, which I'm grateful for. We all sprint up to the door that leads to the roof, Rick's there first, holding the chain so t-dog can cut it off. He cuts the chain, pulls it off, and Daryl kicks open the door before he runs out. "Merle! Merle!" he shouts as he gets out onto the roof. We follow him as Daryl looks for his brother, but he's not there, just handcuffs cuffed to a pipe, a saw, and a hand.

"No! No!" Daryl cries out over and over again. I feel for Daryl, I really do, but did we all really think Merle was going to stay up there? There was no doubt in my mind that Merle wouldn't find a way to get his ass off this roof, even if that meant sawing off his own hand.

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#fanfics #x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixion x reader #rick grimes #Lori grimes #Carl grimes #female!reader #fem!reader #zombie apocolypse au #zombie apocalypse #zombie #the walking dead x reader

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devnmon · 1 year

Text

The Overnight Reckoning.

Chapter Eight: Written in My Stars

Summary: The aftermath of the walker attack has left you and Daryl exhausted. You'd barely gotten sleep the night before, and it does nothing with the reality of the situation at hand. Is the camp's safety screwed to hell? What's next for the Quarry folk?

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Series Masterlist | Playlist

Chapter Warnings: typical twd horror, mentions of walkers/dead bodies, some violence

wc: 7.3k

After the night you all had in camp, the day ahead was, unsurprisingly, looking even longer.

The whole thing began later in the evening, hours after Daryl and the guys had left to return to Atlanta for Merle, who'd been handcuffed to a roof in the city.

Boy, were they in for a surprise upon returning.

You, along with the familiar members of the group had been enjoying a quiet night around the campfire, hands warmed by the fire despite the cooler temperatures.

Elbows propped up on your knees, you reached to the flames, palms absorbing the crackling heat of the fire. Usually, the fires at night were kept low, as not to draw attention from afar. This time, thanks to Morales, who built up the stones around their fire pit, the flames were bigger, therefore spreading more warmth amongst you all in the chilled air.

“Hey, Morales,” calling over to the man who'd been the reason for this warmth, “Thanks for building up the fire pit so we could have the flames higher. It’s really helping.”

“Oh yeah of course. I just.. didn’t want to hear Ed complain about it being too cold anymore, but," he glanced around for a moment, “He isn’t even around, so enjoy the warmth and silence while it lasts.”

Your eyebrows lift slightly when he mentions the abusive asshole that is Ed Peletier, and the events from earlier replaying in your mind.

A violent image in the back of your mind scratches the surface.

Hope I never have to see that prick’s smug face again after what he’s done to that woman and her daughter.

Before the more graphic images from today wedge their way into your thoughts, your eyes squeeze shut, grounding yourself to recognize the discussions of the group you’re surrounded by.

With the skill of both Amy and Andrea, the sisters had caught enough fish to feed the whole group that evening. You all had been enjoying a fulfilling meal whilst in the company of one another, sat between Jacqui and Lori, tuning into the friendly conversations while shoveling every morsel of food on your plate into your mouth.

Sure, the fish was bare of any flavor or seasoning, but you appreciated its way to sustain you and halt the incessant hunger poking at your brain.

Since the fish fry gave you all fresh, hot food, you decided to deal with the plain taste and be grateful for that moment. Surrounded by kind people and their company presently made your eyes soften as you devoured your meal.

As soon as you'd finished, the sound of Dale's voice rambling on about some Faulkner quote grabbed your attention. Silence rings out as he finishes speaking, eyes darting around awkwardly at the lack of sound, until someone speaks.

“You are so weird..” Amy’s one liner makes Carl and the other kids laugh as they finish up their food.

“It’s not me, it’s Faulkner, William Faulkner. Maybe my bad paraphrasing..”

The chuckling ceases, quiet dimming over the group, while the younger blonde stands up, gaining the attention of her sister.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to pee. Jeez, you try to be discreet around here..”

This time, more of the group giggles at her remark as she trails back to dale’s winnebago. sipping at her beer again, Andrea tries to stifle her own laughter. A few moments pass, hearing the door fling open, Amy’s voice trailing from where she stood.

“We’re out of toilet paper?” is the last thing she says before a shrill scream leaves her, and Andrea is turning towards the sound faster than she can register who it is that’s screaming.

You don’t know what’s worse in the moment: the fact that Amy had got bit or the walkers treading into camp. A drop in your stomach makes your heart beat faster with your adrenaline pumping, hand reaching for the knife sheathed at your hip. Your eyes dart to everyone around you, grabbing each other and running in the opposite direction.

Walkers flooded into the camp, bombarding the area and wiping out any idea of a safe haven you had found here. Suddenly, the pit in your stomach makes the internal sounds in your mind overtake any sounds outside of your head, heart pumping louder now.

The sound of Ahane's shotgun hadn't helped your grasp on the situation at hand, until you realize the chaos that's broken out. It's not until your eyes lock on the group huddled together a few feet away, heading for the r.v. as safely as possible.

Morales was swinging a bat at the dead to take down the ones surrounding him, running for the group as they advanced.

Just before there were more walkers in camp than living people, the sounds of multiple gunshots rang out from further away. Searching for the source of the shooting, your eyes gazed over to the four familiar men who had gone to the city earlier in the day.

Daryl, Rick, Glenn and T-dog trampled up the hills of the Quarry just in time to step in and help Shane and the others take out each and every one of the small herd.

To see Daryl back and alive was the only thing you could think about, as a slow smile made its way onto your face.

Then you remembered they went to the city for Merle, and he wasn't with them.

You had no idea what Daryl had seen out there, much less if he saw what happened to his brother, and where he was.

Silence rang out, pulling everyone's attention to Andrea and who she was crouched over. Amy had bled out from the bites on her skin just moments ago, the life draining from her body in her sister's arms.

Grief was upon the group for the first time, and the way it had all happened was so hideous, nobody spoke for the rest of the night.

That night was one of the longest you'd had since being in the camp. restlessness came from the images of walkers in your head any minute you'd dozed off to sleep.

Though, morning finally came, and it was time to wrangle up all the bodies for disposal.

Ed Peletier was one of the unfortunate-fortunate victims of the attack last night, as well as Amy Harrison, and some others you didn't know who'd gotten bit or bled out from their injuries.

Daryl rose the next morning bright and early, the look on his face pensive as he got right to work helping the other men clean up the camp.

Drained from last night with a lack of sleep, you didn't dare go near any of the corpses, heading directly over to the other side of camp, where Lori, Jacqui and a few others sat and ate their breakfast.

Your surroundings felt surreal, eyes heavy with each blink and attempt to stay awake. Unsteady feet shuffled over to where some of them sat, out of view of everything happening on the other side of camp, for some peace of mind.

"Hey, morning. You alright? Sleep any last night?" Her voice was soft and sweet, unlike the violent images that had kept you up since before the sun rose. Your mouth opens to answer, but a yawn comes tumbling out before you can.

"I'll take that as a no." Lori was quick to grab a mug with hot coffee in it for you, watching you take a seat on the grass, palms covering your eyes as your legs crossed.

"Uh... no.. no, I uh, couldn't sleep. Tried to, but every time my eyes closed, I'd just wake up again. Fucking nightmares..." Cursing low enough so Carl wouldn't hear, your head lifted as her footsteps approached. Lori sat down next to you, the warm mug in her hand being given to you.

"Well, if you can't sleep, just try to get through the day, okay? Here, coffee."

"Mmm.. coffee." The warmth spread through your fingers, its strong scent wafting into your body as you took a sip. "Thanks, Lor. This'll help, maybe I'll get better sleep later."

Lori's hand rubbed your shoulder before walking back over to Carl and walking him over to a different part of camp.

There you sat, legs crossed with the cup of warm liquid in your hands, sipping slowly until your mug was empty. Caffeine ran through your veins now, prompting you to pull your still somewhat tired figure from the ground.

After a while, some of your group gathered a distance away from Andrea, who was still crouched over her sister's body. Dried blood covered her shirt and arms, some was even in her straw-blonde hair. The sight of her like this was something you hadn't expected.

Just a few feet to the left, Daryl was hunched over, plunging a pickaxe into the deceased bodies, in prevention of their reanimation. The one he'd just pulled the axe out of had been a random walker that came out of the woods. Dragging it over to where T-dog stood, he grabbed the other side of the corpse, hauling it into a pile of burning walkers.

Lori finally walks away from Andrea, trying to explain enough to her that makes her say something, anything. She hadn't spoken since Amy died in her arms.

You currently sat near Dale and Rick, accompanied by a few others, observing Andrea's state of shock from over by one of the campfires.

"She's been there all night. What do we do?"

"Can't just leave Amy like that. We need to deal with it, same as the others."

"I'll tell her how it is."

Rick sauntered over to Andrea, speaking in a low, calm voice, until she abruptly turned towards the sheriff, pointing her gun at him.

The only thing Rick could do after seeing the pistol aimed at him was apologize profusely to her, as he backed away tentatively.

He'd turned back to the group before letting out a sigh, with the shake of his head. You stood up, glancing at Shane and the others before speaking.

"I don't think we should bother her, not right now. She's still in shock, which is why she reacted that way, same thing when Lori tried to talk to her, too. She's in a fragile state. The only thing that's gonna help her is time."

"And how do you know that?" Shane questioned, narrowing his eyes at your sudden outburst of knowledge. Besides the fact that Shane's remarks towards you were always misogynistic, he never asked you anything about yourself.

"Believe me, or don't believe me, but I studied trauma and psychology in college, it's what my Master's degree is on. You're not the only one that knows shit, Shane."

"Oh, pardon me." He only sat back down, watching you roll your eyes and sit back down.

It was then you saw Daryl wander over into the part of camp you're at, pickaxe still over his shoulders. His skin was covered in blood and dirt and who knows what else for who knows how long, butting his way into the conversation.

"Y'all can't be serious. The dead girl's a time bomb."

"What do you suggest?" Rick's drawl questioned Daryl's words, taking a step closer to Rick before lowering his voice pointedly.

"Take the shot. Clean, in the brain from here!" Daryl continued on with reasons as to why they should, but Lori interrupted him.

"No. For Gods sakes, let her be." Lori sat down, also covered in dirt and blood from moving bodies. Daryl scoffs in disbelief as he walks away, too hyped up in his own anger to have a civil conversation at the moment.

He makes his way over to where Morales and Glenn are moving bodies into separate piles. Daryl leans down to help morales with one of them, dragging it into a certain area before Glenn calls out at them.

"Wait- What are you guys doing? This is for geeks, our people go over there." Glenn points to a pile a bit to the left of where they had dropped the body in the first place.

"What's the difference? They're all infected." Daryl's strained voice speaks, looking at Glenn before he's speaking again, his voice breaking a bit as he repeats himself.

"Our people go in that row, over there. We don't burn them! We bury them. Understand? Our people go in that row over there."

Daryl and Morales pick up the body again, and after the weight of it left his grip, he walked off with a huff of hot air and anger.

"Y'all left my brother for dead! You had this comin'!"

Daryl can't help but let himself become heated over the slightest thing, having returned from the city without his brother only set him off more.

He doesn't get far, overhearing Jacqui claim that Jim had been bitten, approaching with concern and a few other people in the surrounding area. You stood close by, next to Glenn as you watched Daryl pull Jim's shirt up as T-dog restrained his arms, revealing the bloody bite on his ribs.

"Oh, shit." You mutter under your breath, almost stunned to see that the group was going to lose another one of its members, after the night you all had.

The next course of action was to figure out what to do with Jim and Amy, who still hadn't reanimated in her sister's arms yet.

Though, Daryl suggested that they take out Jim and Amy to be done with the group's situation as fast as possible. When you overheard this, it made your eyes widen at the words you heard from someone you thought of as your friend. Your thoughts about what Daryl had said weren't lost on you, but the decision to keep them inside was probably the best one at the moment.

"Zero tolerance for walkers. Or them to be."

It's then that Rick mentions the CDC, the fact that they could be working on a cure.

Of course the next thing out of Shane is that it's a stretch, and that the group should head to the army base at Fort Benning, instead. The only thing about that was that it was about 100 miles in the opposite direction than they were now.

"The CDC is our best chance, and Jim's only chance."

Daryl gets so frustrated at the constant back and forth arguing about what the group should do, that another instinct takes over him in a form of harsh rage.

"You go lookin' for aspirin, do what you need to do. Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem!" Overlapping yells sound out as Daryl lurches towards Jim with his pickaxe raised, hearing the click of Rick's gun.

"Hey, hey, hey! We don't kill the living."

Turning his head towards Rick, eyes scowling as his voice lowers.

"That's funny, comin' from a man who just put a gun to my head."

Shane finally convinces him to drop the axe, trudging off in a huff to get rid of more bodies. You saunter through camp, gazing over at Andrea, Dale next to her now. You had wondered where Daryl was, until you spot him stood behind Carol as she plunged the axe he'd been holding into her dead husband's head.

Damn, Carol. He was awful to you as a husband, but you cry over his death. Strange, but endearing. How you can have compassion for someone after they treated you like that.

Your thoughts tore your eyes away from the scene, remembering how it was to lose someone like that before. Shaking your head to focus on the world around you once again, the RV came into view again.

A shot rang out from where you had been looking, assuming Amy finally reanimated and was put down by her sister. The realization washed over you, in a way you didn't like.

To pass some time, you holed up in your tent for a while, entranced with the book you'd been reading when Daryl had interrupted. About an hour or two passed before Lori checked on you in your tent, telling you how they're going to bury the bodies.

Soon enough, your boots are on again, laced up as you step out of your tent, catching up with Lori and the others as you walk down in a group to where they've already dug the holes. As you tread down the hill, past the truck with glenn and carl, you overhear Daryl arguing with the two sheriffs.

"These people need to know who the hell's in charge here, what the rules are."

"There are no rules."

Lori butts in then, in defense of the group.

"Well, that's a problem. We haven't had one minute to hold onto anything of our old selves. We need time to mourn, and we need to bury our dead. It's what people do."

You notice Daryl chewing on the inside of his cheek as he listens to Lori speak.

Andrea goes first, dragging Amy's body into the grave, placing her head lightly on the ground as she saunters away, shaken up and sniffling from crying. It's then that all the other people drag the rest of the bodies into the hole in the ground. There's a moment of silence, and then the men begin to shovel the dirt over the corpses.

As you all walk back to camp, the constant cries and sniffles of tears is heard, as Daryl saunters behind you, your fingers wiping away the tears that managed to slip down your face.

Before more threaten to drop from your eyes, you scurry away from the group in a hurry, hiding out behind the Winnebago.

You hear some muttering from Rick and Shane about the severity of their situation, waiting patiently for their bickering to cease. After it came to a halt, and their agreement stood, they hauled off into the forest to search for stray geeks possibly roaming around.

With the work around camp halted, you grew bored with no tasks to do. You thought of picking your book up again, but instead you wandered around camp until finding the archer peering at everyone sat around the campfire.

"Daryl?" you happen to startle him, twitching slightly as your words broke the silence.

"What'dya want?" Daryl's voice is gruff and low, with a hint of frustration growing in his gut. Truth was he'd been in a bad mood ever since arguing with Rick earlier.

"Do you know if we're um- staying here, or- or leaving? Cause after everything that happened, I don't know what we're gonna do-"

"Man, why don't you ask someone who cares? I ain't in charge around here, girl.. Don't bother me for shit I don't know." Daryl threw his arm in the air, aggravated in the moment and getting revved up, his voice raised, startling you to some extent.

Your shoulders dropped at the realization of a different side of Daryl coming out to play. You had no clue he'd be rash to you, like he is to everyone else. Though, you never thought you'd be on the back end of the harshness.

"I-I just thought you might have known..." You sigh, becoming a bit intimidated of him, "Sorry for annoying you."

He watches your face drop, heaving a sigh from your chest in your turn away from him.

Daryl chokes, when he realizes just what he's said to you and how he's said it. It's not what he meant in the moment, letting his ego and rage take over instead of calming down before talking with you.

Walking away from daryl, you spotted everybody gathered around the largest campfire pit, as Rick and Shane returned from their outing finally. Walking over behind Glenn, you listen intently as Shane goes on about how he trusts Rick's instincts, and that the most important thing was to stay together.

"Those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning, okay?"

Everyone nodded, the agreement set as the group turned in for the evening.

Before the night sky made its way darkening the forests, Daryl headed out in the woods, tracking the path he'd made previously, carrying a can of gas as well as his bow to keep himself safe.

Soon enough, he'd made it all the way back to where Merle had left their truck, the same one with his motorcycle on the trailer. Sure enough, the camouflage had done its job in protecting the rest of their supplies in the truck bed. When Daryl rummaged through one of the bags, he found a leather jacket and vest, one with two angel wings on the back. He rummaged through enough of everything and compiled what he found to be useful, and shoved it all into a bag.

Daryl decided the only thing worth driving back to camp was the bike, so he'd taken it down from the trailer, using the gas can to fill up the tank. After starting the engine, a sound he hadn't heard since before the world ended, he drove off with his belongings and a slight smile on his face.

If Daryl Dixon was going to survive the apocalypse, he figured why not ride in style?

After returning to camp, Daryl cooked up the rest of his squirrel for dinner that night. On account of not apologizing for snapping at you earlier in the day, he would have to make you squirrel stew another time. A promise he was willing to keep to you.

In doing so, he would also have to apologize before they left, since Daryl didn't want to have any reason not to talk to you.

You were the reason he was with this group, after all. He was grateful in a way, that things ended up the way they did.

Daryl spent the evening packing up the inside of his tent, wanting it to be the last thing he puts away before they hit the road tomorrow. The bag he'd packed was tossed in the winnebago with everyone else's.

Exhausted from the day's prior events and holed up in his tent for the night, Daryl decided to pull his journal out and jot down some of the thoughts he'd had today.

Day eight

We're finally leavin the Quarry, heading to the CDC tomorrow. Thank fuck, I hated stayin' out there in the open. Not to mention the walker outbreak got to Jim. Don't know how to deal if anyone else dies. Feels like I need to protect them all now. Y/n was terrified though, the night before. I guess there's more to her than just another scared person. I mean, we're all scared more or less. But she's tough. She deserves more of a life than just some damn camp. They all do.

Daryl closed his pen in the book, shoving it into his bag once again as he drifted off to sleep the minute his eyelids closed.

Before he knew it, birds chirped and the daylight shone through his tent, waking him a little before rising and realizing that everyone was probably up already. His cot was the last thing to pack up, exiting the tent to put it in the trunk, before he saw you lingering around T-dog and Andrea, as the group gathered to hear what Shane had to say.

Daryl got closer to hear as well, overhearing him explain how to get the group's attention on the road. It's then that Morales is speaks up to say they won't be joining them on the road, mentioning family in birmingham, before Rick and Shane are handing them a gun and half a box of ammo for the road.

The group says their goodbyes as Daryl watches you trail off to pack up the rest of your stuff.

This was his chance, to apologize, for everything.

"Hey, uh, you got a minute?" Daryl's fiddling with his hands, anxious in the moment to how you'll take his apology, wondering if this is the very last chance he'd ever have to talk to you.

You aren't facing Daryl when he calls out to you, not really thinking he would even talk to you after the events of the other day. Though, your eyes brighten the moment you do see him, turning your body to face him with a backpack slung over your shoulder. He's dressed in his usual brown pants and boots, a maroon (probably sleeveless) flannel under his leather jacket and vest. Mouth falling slightly open, you hesitate before speaking.

"Daryl? What're you doing here? I... assumed you didn't want to speak to me again after what you said yesterday." A puzzled look scattered across your face, wondering why he approached you on the last day in camp.

Daryl looks different, but you can't figure out why he does.

"N-Nah, I uh," Daryl paused, clearing his throat before continuing, "I came here to talk about that, actually."

A hand of yours pushes the hair in front of your face behind your ear as you look to him, eyebrows raised the slightest bit.

"Okay, so talk." One of your shoulders slips the bag off as you sit down on a nearby log, Daryl doing the same. Your hands rub down your pant legs, only slightly nervous at what he had to say.

"I-I know I was rude to ya, an' I just wanted to say 'm sorry. You don't deserve to be treated like that. It's- everything that's been happenin' recently's got me on edge all the time, so much that I don't get a lotta sleep. Maybe a couple hours here and there but, I don't wanna lose your friendship over somethin' that stupid. I really didn't mean it."

The tone of his voice was genuine and sweet, like he had put so much thought into apologizing to you. It warmed your heart, breaking whatever part of you was still upset with him.

"Oh.. Daryl, it-it's alright. I forgive you." you speak, Daryl's frustration with himself scratching the surface.

He finally looked up from his hands to you, light in his eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah, promise. Friends make mistakes, you're a good one, Daryl. Just be careful next time, since I am the one who knocked your brother out. I could probably do the same to you, so just watch your back."

A sly smirk plastered on your face, knowing you'd never actually hurt him, even if you tried to. You just couldn't risk any imperfections on that face of his.

You realize then: Daryl looks different because he's wearing a leather jacket and vest, and it suits him in a way that lets you read him like a book.

"I don' know 'bout that.. but it'd be fun to see ya try." The both of you chuckle, smiled glances being shared, feeling like forever in those moments of eye contact. Every time you peek away though, you're pulled back to reality.

Daryl's studying your body language before he speaks again, his words coming out easier than the apology.

"There's somethin' else I wanted to ask ya, too." Rubbing the back of his neck, sore from how he'd slept on it.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"I'm drivin' this bike of mine to the CDC, and was wonderin' if you'd wanna ride with me."

"You ride bikes?"

"Well, do I look like I drive them tacky sport cars? Hell yeah, I ride bikes."

That drawl of his comes clear and present in his words, just the sound of him speaking has an effect over you.

"Definitely not. I just didn't know you were that type of guy."

"What typ'a guy did you take me for?" Daryl's curious now, wanting to know more about himself from your point of view.

"Just- nothing," you scoff, "But the answer to your question? Is hell yeah, I'll ride with you."

Daryl Dixon, a motorcycle man, it all made sense now.

You shake your head and scoff, accepting the invitation of riding a bike for the first time in years.

Daryl's eyes raise just the slightest bit at your acceptance of his question, catching him off guard. His chest felt lighter, filled with some different type of feeling, as he realized you'd be pressed up against his back while on his bike.

He raises from the log, Daryl watches you wander over to one of the edges of camp that led down to the quarry.

"Alright, I parked her out by everyone else's vehicles, an' they're all heading out pretty soon. Ya wanna go now?"

"In a minute. i just love this view, don't think I've seen anything like it since before. I'm gonna miss it.. just this pretty part, though. I don't think I could stay another night out here." You say with a sigh, Daryl's blue eyes taking in your expression.

You were right, the view was gorgeous. But to Daryl, you were becoming a better view to him every day.

Not only were your features alluring in the way you held yourself, it had also been the moments during conversation where you spoke to him like he was the only person around.

The moment of silence passed as you hear Shane calling out from where everyone had piled into their cars.

"C'mon, let's move out." Shane says to the group, extra loudly since spotting the two of you out by the edge.

"Oh, shit. We'd better go." You look to Daryl, his eyes tearing away from your figure as you begin treading towards the cars.

Everyone heads to their vehicles, taking one last glance at the place the group had called home for the past few months. A content smile on your face, you tread behind the archer heading to his bike.

Daryl swung his leg over the seat, pressing his weight into the bike as he sat, watching you do the same. The engine roared with the turning of his key.

The rumble of his bike's engine sent your mind into nostalgia, remembering the time your father had taken you out riding for the first time. Sat on this bike with daryl made the two realities shift together in your brain, finding comfort in sharing the joy of bikes with him.

"Ohh, I haven't heard that sound in such a long time.. Do you know how long it's been since I've been on a bike, Dixon?"

He looked back to you, eyes filled with something different.

It was bright, more alive, and stronger.

This was not the Daryl Dixon you found in the woods with his skeevy brother that day.

No, this Daryl Dixon had lost and found greater things in life than he could ever imagine.

"Wait a minute, you're telling me you ride bikes?" Tilting his head to one side, completely in disbelief at what he thinks is true.

Someone like you into something he likes as well?

A rush flows through Daryl, peering into your eyes as the visual excitement scatters across your face. When the corners of his mouth started to turn upward, you knew the gaze in his blues had been hope.

"Hell yeah, I do. Well, used to. Haven't in a long time, but I've been ridin' since I was old enough to drive."

A real laugh flutters from his chest in the moment, filled with content at how you'd so easily became his favorite person ever. He flips his head around, the leather wings on the vest he wore, facing you now.

The way his body is made just for this jacket and vest...

The way it adorned his broad shoulders and muscular back was mesmerizing enough, other than the fact that you couldn't resist tracing the outline of one of the wings with your finger ever so lightly.

The gears on his bike shift, his feet lifting off the ground and onto the clutch pedal, as Daryl drove the bike in line with everyone else's vehicles, heading out of the campsite forever.

The summer sun in its finals hours of light for the day burned bright and hot against your skin. Wind from the speed of Daryl's bike brought a breeze, cooling your body as much as possible.

Since being on the road, your forearms were clutched around Daryl's torso, the rest of your body pulled away from him, rather than pressing your own body against his and make the heat worse.

The leather of his jacket was almost sticking to your skin with how sweltering the Georgia heat had been tormenting the day, as its hours ticked on.

In an attempt to save yourself an awkward conversation of the way you're wrapped around him like that, hunched over while you try to not let your hands rest blatantly on the man's torso. It was awkward, and way too personal for a couple of people who had been getting to know each other.

With that, you let your arms release from wrapped around his waist, hands resting there now and pressing lightly into the jacket's sides, fingertips sticking a bit. Hesitating a further grasp on Daryl, you hadn't wanted to blatantly hold him in a way he didn't like.

The bike jolted forward a bit, and that's when you hear him call back to you.

"Aye, you better hold on tight, we're gonna pick up speed."

Without thinking, the palms of your hands press down on his scantily waist, the sensations of something jolting all over your skin, feeling more like electricity than anything else. Your sensation completely internal, you only stare down at the angel wings on his vest again, before squeezing your eyes shut to try and rid your mind of the thoughts in your brain.

With every mile the two of you rode, the sun shone brightly, warming your skin against the sticky leather of Daryl's jacket.

It's an hour or two before one of the vehicle's horns blares out loudly, pulling the trail of cars to a halt.

"The hell? What's going on?" You ask Daryl, his bike slowing to a stop before seeing people walk out of the Winnebago.

"Dunno, wanna go find out?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure." Your arms retreated from around Daryl's waist, hopping off the bike as you heard its engine halt. The sun was still hot on your necks, burning bright as you walked towards the Winnebago.

"Hang on a sec, I'm comin'." You glanced back as Daryl grabbed his bow from the back of the bike and caught up to you. Walking up to the front of Dale's RV, a bunch of your group members were already standing around. You spot Andrea and Glenn with concerned looks on their faces.

"Hey," you said to the blonde, "What the hell's going on?"

"Something's wrong with the RV, I don't know. Dale and Rick are talking about it over there," She points to where the sheriff and other man are talking.

Walking around the others, you spot Glenn and give him a slight punch on the shoulder before stand next to him. Daryl's glancing around anxiously with his bow in hand, watching the landscape for any incoming predicaments.

"I told you we'd never get far on that hose. I needed the one from the cube van." Dale says to Rick, as the engine continues to smoke and make a slight hissing sound.

"Can you jury-rig it?"

"That's all it's been so far. It's more duct tape than hose. And I'm out of duct tape."

"I see somethin' up ahead," Shane speaks, standing on the other side of the van with T-dog, looking into a pair of binoculars. "Gas station, if we're lucky."

It's then you hear frantic steps coming from inside the Winebago, and Jacqui is the one who steps out in haste.

"Y'all, Jim- it's bad. I don't think he can take any more," She breathlessly states, before retreating back into the RV.

"Hey, Rick, you wanna hold down the fort? I'll drive ahead, see what I can bring back." Shane states, hands on his belt as he looks to his partner.

"Yeah, I'll come along, too. Back you up." T-dog's looking through the same binoculars as Shane was a moment before, vouching to go with him.

"Y'all keep your eyes open, now. We'll be right back." Shane states, before Rick climbs into the RV.

Now left with the remaining members of your group, it seemed like the predicament with Jim wasn't solvable. It was just a matter of time before he died and came back as one of those... things.

Can't imagine what he's goin' through, Daryl thought. It's gotta be the worst thing in the world to die at the hands of a geek.

"Do you think the CDC will be able to save him?" You asked the group, wanting to hold on to any sliver of hope that you had left.

"I think that's a damn pipe dream at this point." Daryl responded, although a part of him wanted to believe differently.

"Come on, you can't really know that..." You responded, wanting to believe in hope for society. A part of you knew that it was only a zero to one hundred shot for any kind of cure.

"Hell if I know CDC's even worth the trip." Daryl scoffed, pacing around.

Before you could retort back to him, Rick emerged from the RV with news about Jim, nervous look on his face.

"So, what's the verdict?" You asked, as Rick looked at everyone standing around.

"He said... he wants us to leave him here."

Your eyes shot towards the sheriff, disbelief at the words coming from him. "He.. what?"

"It's what he says he wants."

"And he's lucid?" Carol asks, concerned for Jim's wellbeing.

"He seems to be. I would say.. yes."

"I would never... go along with callously killing a man.. This doesn't seem right," your words came out in a breath, terrified that your group would just be leaving a man to die on the side of the road.

"Well, I guess we know what Jim wants, there's our answer."

"But we just leave him here? Take off? Man,, I'm not sure I could live with that," Shane says to Rick, before Lori retorts.

"It's not your call. Either one of you."

The next thing you knew, Shane and Rick were carrying Jim out from the RV, laying him down under a tree. The two men insist to him that they don't need to leave him like this, but Jim insisted on it.

"The breeze.. feels nice," Jim stated through shallow breaths, before Jacqui leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

Once more, Rick walked over to the man, "Jim, do you want this?" He asked, offering him a gun to put him out of his misery.

"I'm okay, and you're gonna need that."

The rest of your group shared solemn looks amongst one another, as others said goodbye. You noticed Glenn's expression turn to sadness as he walked away, joining him in walking back to the vehicles on the road. As you walked, you only saw Daryl looking at him from afar, giving him a small nod, then turning to walk back to where you were.

The rest of the drive to the CDC, sat on the back of Daryl's bike, was lengthy and your skin burned under the hot sun. Drenched in sweat, you were sure the archer in front of you was suffering just as much, maybe more than you were. But then again, you were both pushed up against each other on the bike.

When the CDC building came into view, a filthy stench came with it. The rancid smell of a dozen or more dead bodies surrounded your head, and it made you sick to your stomach.

"Ugh, that's the worst thing I think I've ever smelled." You said, hand cupped over your mouth as Daryl's bike slowed down behind the Winnebago and rest of the vehicles.

"Yeah, well we're here," Daryl shut off the bike engine, hopping off as you did the same. Crossbow in hand, he waited for the rest of your group to exit their cars before advancing any closer to the building.

The nonstop buzzing of flies surrounded each of the carcasses, littering the road and lot ahead with unmoving corpses.

"Oh, god." The smell of each rotting body flooded your head, in a way you didn't want it to. "I think I'm gonna be sick..."

But you tried your best to keep whatever food you had in your system down. Breathing through your nose now, you stepped around the bodies, making your way to the building. The whole group coughed at the stench, but persevered anyways.

Keep moving, stay together, was the only thing you could hear in whispered voices amongst the others.

You finally approached the building, glancing behind and around you for walkers or any other kind of threat. There were two white shutters down, blocking any entrance to the building. It seemed like there was nobody there, like your whole journey had been for nothing.

"There's nobody here." T-dog said to Rick, as he hurried around to find another way in.

"Then why are these shutters down?" He banged on the door, until you heard growls coming from behind you.

"Walkers!" Daryl shouted, shooting one with an arrow as the young ones cried out in fear.

"Rick, this is a dead end," Shane stated, walking towards his partner with anger in his voice.

No.. there can't be nothing left... you thought. Having come all this way, on basically nothing- no. There has to be something here for us.

"Where are we gonna go?" Carol said, clutching her daughter in her arms.

"Fort Benning, Rick- still an option." Shane returned his idea to the table.

"On what? No food, no fuel. That's 100 miles!" Andrea retorted, pointing out how royally fucked you all were.

"A hundred and twenty five. I checked the map," Glenn said, shotgun in hand.

"Not helping, dude." You said to Glenn, glancing back at you for a split second.

"Forget Fort Benning, we need a place tonight, now." Lori said, panic in her voice.

Come on, let's just get out of here. We gotta go.. Multiple people said, over each other, beginning to walk back to their vehicles before any more walkers showed up. You noticed Rick standing still, continuously staring at the door.

"The camera- it moved." He stuttered, glancing back at his wife.

"You imagined it," Dale retorted.

"It moved." The sheriff said, taking a few steps closer to the door.

"It's an automated device, it-it's just gears. They're winding down. Now come on.." Shane attempted to drag his best friend back with him, but he persisted nonetheless.

He didn't say anything more, before pounding on the shutter, quite loudly that it probably caught the attention of more walkers.

"Rick, you're gonna attract walkers!" You yelled out, but he didn't listen. Everyone else began yelling out a plead for him to come with you all to leave, to find a better place. Even if there was someone in there, why would they help you all?

"I know you're in there. I know you can hear me. Please, we're desperate. Please help us, we have women, children, no food, hardly any gas left." Lori stepped between her husband and the door, trying to pull him away once again. But still, he persisted.

Oh my god, we're out of options. Fuck, fuck fuck.

"Theres nowhere else to go! If you don't let us in, you're killing us! Please! You're killing us!" The tone of Rick's voice is strained and frantic, out of options and this was the only thing he could do.

There's nothing left.. we're stuck out here and quite fucked, if Rick's chasing a pipe dream...

It isn't until Rick pulls himself away from the door that it finally lifts with a loud sound, bright white light shining from the inside.

On reflex, your hand went up to block the light, as everyone's yelling finally diminished with the door opening.

Holy shit.

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 2 years

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All the Black Femmes || The Walking Dead

I really didn’t do tags for all of the uncredited and/or one time appearances, and I ONLY used IMDB for the set, so if they didn’t have a photo on there, I didn’t include. Still wanted to put them on the list though.

Similar to the Star Wars ATBF POST, I’ve provided the BFCD links to the characters that are featured on the blog and also the actresses playing the roles, if I found any content for them. I didn’t bother with the nameless characters, as I definitely didn’t have the energy to search for their content in the various TWD tags, but I still included the links to their tags for this blog, in case you’d like to see their faces again (since most likely their The Walking Dead portrayal didn’t get a lot of screen time).

Characters with existing content:

Wikis for those who I couldn’t find content for:

BFCD Links to The Stars: Content will be added as becomes available

#All the Black Femmes #The Walking Dead #Black Actresses #Nesha Photosets #Michonne #Danai Gurira #Sasha Williams #Sonequa Martin Green #Connie TWD #Lauren Ridloff #Kelly TWD #Angel Theory #Annie TWD #Medina Senghore #Black Women in The Walking Dead #Queuetober #BFCD Spooky Season #Black Women in Horror

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haileyssims · 4 months

Text

2ND TIME WRITING THIS BECAUSE LAST TIME I WROTE IT I WANTED TO SAVE IT AS A DRAFT BUT I ENDED UP DISCARDING IT (GONNA KMS)

⚠️⚠️ TWD SPOILERS ⚠️⚠️ MY opinions on some of the characters in szn 1 of twd

SEASON 1

Rick- love rick nm to say abt him

Shane- idk I thought he was a scumbag when he tried to grape lori in the library in the CDC thingy also I hate how cocky he was to everyone

Lori- I liked her a little bit. I thought she was funny. But I thought that she was a great mother. The only thing that's bad is she didn't know where carl was half the time, but also she wouldn't let him do anything independently. I get the circumstances, but like stilllll let him be independent omll.

Andrea- idrk how to feel abt her i couldn't really get a sense of her personality in the first season.

Dale- I LOVED DALE. I THOUGHT HE WAS ADORABLE AND I LOVE THE LITTLE STANK FACE HE GAVE PPL. I know a lot of ppl hated him bcs of his unwanted opinions and advice but he gave good advice, and he was probably the most level-headed person in that season by far.

Glenn- MY BABY BOY GLENN. YES, I LOVE HIM. HE COULD NEVER DO ANYTHING WRONG. TALK TO THE WALL 😇.

Coral (carl)- I love him he's an adorable little baby

Morgan- Idk how to feel abt him in the first season, considering he was only in one episode. I'm glad he saved rick, but he kinda js dipped and didn't show up till later.

Amy (Andreas sister)- I thought she was a cutie. I would have liked to see her later in the show. I'm sad she died. I feel like she could have been an okay character

Merle- ABSOLUTELY NOT 💯

Jim- idk he was a weirdo 😍😍

Morales- TBD, idk

T-Dog- I LIKED HIM FOR WHATEVER REASON.

Jacqui- TBD IDK not much to be known abt her.

Daryl- BABY DARYL YES. LOVE HIM.

Ed- NO. ❤️

THAT'S IT! I KNOW I DISNT INCLUDE EVERYONE, BUT I INCLUDED THE ONES THAT WERE MOST IMPORTANT TO ME SO YEAH. AS I SAID BEFORE THESE ARE MY OPINIONS SO DONT SHIT ON ME, YOU DONT HQV3 TO AGREE W THEM.

#the walking dead #rick grimes #shane walsh #lori grimes #andrea harrison #dale horvath #glenn rhee #carl grimes #morgan jones #merle dixon #t dog #daryl dixon #carol peletier

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acquaesale · 1 year

Photo

“Vatos” - The Walking Dead S01E04 (2010), dir. Johan Renck.

#the walking dead #twd #twdedit #mine*#amy harrison #andrea harrison #jim #glenn rhee #daryl dixon #t-dog #rick grimes #lori grimes #morales #shane walsh #jacqui #dale horvath #twd:s01 #twd:s01e04 #twd:allepisodesaesthetic

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littlegodzilla · 2 years

Text

Hii!! Next chapter here!!

Things are moving a little faster, we are getting closer to the end, our protagonists seem to be getting to know each other better, but things can always get complicated, can't they? We'll see.

Enjoy!!

Your name Masterlist.

Your Name.

Daryl Dixon x Reader.

Mini series chapter 7.

Warnings: TWD gore. Angst. Fluff.

Words: 3400.

Summary: The things start to change a little.

Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @lilythemadqueen @darylsgarden @thefemininemystiquee @green-eyedladywrites @hail-yourselves @ruinedbythehobbit @xxtinasxxblog @ravenwingsandfoxpaws @spenciepoo338 @b-tchyouainthiphop @minervadashwood @darylssluttt

≈≈≈

Ignore Andrea, but the gif is perfect for this chapter.

≈≈≈

Part 7.

The next day you aren't the only one who wakes up with a hangover, which comforts you as you are unable to walk in a straight line. No one has a good face when you enter the room to have some breakfast, the atmosphere is strange and some look uncomfortable. You greet them all with a small smile and sit down in a free chair. Your gaze connects with Daryl but he quickly averts it. You frown as you don't understand what's wrong with him, you don't have time to ask either, right away you notice Lori is uncomfortable, Shane brusque, and Andrea directly asks the questions no one wants to hear or Jenner to answer.

The CDC is not safe, the air is running out and the place is closing in on itself, it won't let you out if Jenner doesn't give the order. Everyone is getting nervous and aggressive, Daryl has picked up an axe and is angrily unloading it at the door.

"You won't get it open with that." Jenner tells him, Daryl turns furiously towards him.

"But yer head will!" he goes straight for him, but you get in the way.

"Daryl get a hold of yourself!" you ask him with a look full of fear and anguish.

He stops in his tracks, it's not the first time he's raised an axe at someone's head, but this time Rick isn't pointing his gun at him, you're in the way and that's now much worse, because he remembers the night before and that makes him take a step back and snap like a cat.

"Ain't tell me what to do." He growls and goes back to the door to try to open it again.

On another occasion you would have insulted him and told him to fuck off, but now is not the time to worry about Daryl Dixon's tantrums so you return to the group trying to reassure the women in the group, to no avail. They finally manage to talk some sense into the man, but he doesn't want to go anywhere and apparently neither do Jacqui and Andrea. You stay behind too trying to convince them, Dale also stays with Andrea because he's not going to let any of them stay, but you don't want anyone to die. It's not fair.

"What yer doin' here?" you feel a tug on your arm and see that Daryl is still holding the axe in his hand. "Wanna die?"

"N-No, but I don't want you to..."

"They've decided!" he shushes you and pulls you again. "I've lost Merle, yer ain't gettin' rid of me that easily."

You know he's reminding you to hurt you, but his hand gripping you so tightly, as if he really fears losing you, eclipses any other thoughts. Rick uses a grenade to get out of the building and you all run at high speed to your cars. At the last moment you see that Dale and Andrea are behind you. But Jacqui not. The building explodes as tears stream down your face, Daryl uses his body to shield you from the shockwave and the two of you crash into the door of the van. It's not a violent impact as you're already leaning against it, but feeling Daryl's body pressed against yours makes you remember something that the alcohol had erased from your head. You remember the kiss you gave him last night and your heart freezes. Your face turns cherry red feeling the warmth of Daryl's body grab you. His hand holds your head against his shoulder, covering your ears from the shockwave, your hands close tightly over his plaid shirt as you feel his breath on your neck.

When everything seems to calm down, you break the embrace slowly, again your gazes connect for a few seconds. His blue eyes roam your face at full speed, for a few seconds they fix on your lips and Daryl rises like a spring. Your heart beats so hard that your chest aches.

You don't have time to process what is happening, the explosion and fire is drawing the dead still lurking in the city and those that are charred move crawling on the ground. You pick up and get into the cars and drive away, looking for a safe place to make a new plan, think about where to go, plan how to conserve your remaining stock and especially your fuel.

While the men deliberate what might be best for everything, you watch as Daryl slowly makes his way among them. Although his relationship has not gotten off to a good start with Rick, whatever happened when they went to Atlanta together has changed his perspective towards the sheriff, he is still wary of him, instinctively, but also curious and takes orders from him.

You like the new personality you are discovering about him.

You turn your attention back to the girls, Andrea is still a little shaken by everything that is going on, but you focus on Lori and Carol. Both women have nearly lost their children and although they haven't said anything, they look upset.

"Are you guys okay?" you walk over to them. "How are Sophia and Carl?"

"Scared, like everyone else." Carol whispers, smiling very slowly. "But it's a miracle we got out of there."

"Jenner couldn't hold us back, he knew it wasn't fair..." You try to cheer them up a little.

"Are you okay?" Lori asks you suddenly and you don't understand what she means. "Daryl came in looking for you when he realized you weren't coming with us... Is everything okay?" Then she gives you that look you understand and again your cheeks take on a cherry color. How many of them think you guys are a couple? Since when?

"Oh no, I mean, yeah, but it's not that, Daryl... we're just friends, I got him into all this, so keeping me alive is my punishment, I guess..." You explain to them and again tug hard on the sleeves of your t-shirt.

I've lost Merle, yer ain't gonna get rid of me that easily.

His words are still in your head, you sigh and hear the women start talking to Carl and Sophia so you decide to join the conversation to clear your mind.

They finally agree to go to Fort Benning as Shane had suggested from the beginning, by getting rid of several cars you have enough fuel to get there, plus Daryl takes the motorcycle to save a little more, Rick along with Lori, Carol and the kids ride in the first car, then the caravan with Dale, Andrea, Shane and Glenn and T Dog takes Daryl's van. Your first reaction is to talk to Daryl to find out what he wants to do, but you remember again that you kissed him and he's been on the run ever since, so you make the decision to ride in the RV so as not to bother him.

The trip is quiet and boring, everything is silent, tense, you only hear the rattle of the old caravan and Glenn's thoughts out loud looking for the best route to get to the military base as soon as possible and not waste fuel. Andrea is deep in thought and Shane does not look good. He has a nasty cut on his neck, but when you ask him about it, he grunts and goes back to focusing on disassembling and assembling his weapon capturing your attention and Andrea's.

That and all of a sudden the trailer starts making a strange noise until it finally comes to a complete stop. Dale curses under his breath.

"I warned Rick it wouldn't last!" he snorts once again getting out of the vehicle.

Rick has stopped a little further ahead, even if the trailer was in full condition, in front of you a graveyard of cars opens up blocking your way. You need to fix it and at the same time another road to continue the journey. Daryl appears between the cars with his motorcycle and shakes his head.

"The traffic jam stretches all over the road, even if we move the cars out of the way we will lose a lot of time and I doubt we will make any progress."

"Well, thanks Daryl..." Rick tells him sincerely.

Daryl nods and pulls away a bit to park so as not to disturb. Again there's that complicity between the two men that makes you smile. Somehow Daryl is detoxing from the shitty character Merle had that he emulated.

"We'll look for a spare for the caravan, plus I'm sure in these cars we can find some things we can use for the trip besides fuel. We'll stock up and be on our way." Rick proposed to which you all agreed.

Actually rummaging through the lost items of other people who might be dead or trying to survive is a bit violent at first, but then you try to get that idea out of your head and grab some bags with clothes and other things that might be useful to you. Everyone has scattered down the road on their own quest. Leaving the clothes inside the caravan you approach Daryl. It's possible that you made a mistake the night before, but you need to talk it over with him, you don't want tension to build up between you.

Not like this.

"Daryl..." You call out to him as he pokes his head out from inside a car.

"What?" He looks at you with eyes dwarfed by the sun.

"Can we talk?"

"There's nothing to talk about." He's blunt and you can sense he's frustrated, you sigh and clench your hands nervously.

"I'm sorry about the kiss last night." You whisper, but he's heard you perfectly, his body tensing like a rope. "I-I was drunk... I guess I got carried away feeling safe after everything that had happened and..."

"So what, ya go around making out with all the guys around ya?"

"No! I-I'm just saying that I didn't... I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable..."

"I'm not."

"Then why are you ignoring me?"

"Y'ain't the fuckin' center of the fuckin' world, y'know?" He walks slowly towards you. "Ain't think yer so important, not to me or anyone else. No one is important in the world. Not anymore." He growls again and shoves you away with a shove with his shoulder as he walks past you.

You try to calm down, you know that when you try to confront Daryl, he always lashes out like a wounded animal. You've apologized, you think you've done the right thing. Just because Daryl is an attractive man and cares for you makes you feel good, it doesn't give you the right to kiss him like you did. You return to the group when you see Dale make a frightened gesture on the roof of the caravan, suddenly you see a huge group of infected appear along the road and you quickly hide to go unnoticed. Your goal is to get back to the caravan to be safe, Daryl pulls you to dodge one of the infected by sticking an arrow in his head and throwing him to the ground carefully not to make noise, he gestures for you to be quiet and gives you his knife. You tremble at the weight of the weapon in your hand, but nod as he walks away. Everything is chaotic for a few seconds and things don't get any better when you see Sophia running off being chased by several of those infected.

The image of Noah appears in your mind and your heart skips a beat before you realize what you're doing; you jump the guardrail with Daryl's knife still in your hand and run after the girl wanting to help her. You're not the only one, Rick and Daryl have also gone looking for her, but after Grimes has pulled her to safety, Sophia has disappeared. Agitation overcomes you. She's just a little girl, scared and lost, Rick has given her directions on how to get back on the road with the others, but she hasn't returned.

"My little girl is out there, all alone." Carol whimpers and it breaks your heart.

"We'll go out and look for her, follow her tracks." You try to comfort her, Rick, Daryl nods adjusting his crossbow against his chest.

"Gimme the knife." He tells you and you shake your head. "...Gimme." He uses your name and that makes you shudder, it sounds strange and at the same time good in his mouth.

"No, we need to know how to defend ourselves and..."

"Now is not the time, that girl is lost." He shushes you.

"We'll look for her between all of us. Look around here in case she comes back, Daryl come with me." Rick asks you and the two men leave without adding anything else.

The knife is still in your hands but you feel as if you have lost the argument with him. Shane walks up to you, since Lori ignores him his mood has changed.

"You won't kill any zombies with that." He tells you and pulls out a gun. "This is more effective."

"With this you avoid the noise and the zombies don't pick up our movements."

"If you're lucky to get close enough to stab it."

"They're slow and clumsy, there's an advantage when they only come one at a time." You insist, but he mumbles away.

"Let's check the whole road, maybe he's lost with all these cars out here cutting through." Dale decides.

"We need to fix that arm of T-Dog's first" You say seeing him bleeding. "Let's go to the trailer."

It's getting dark when Rick and Daryl get back on the road, but Sophia is still not with them. Carol can't stop crying, Lori is anxious and Carl is also nervous because he wants his friend back, but there's no sign of the little girl. Daryl gives some pills from Merle's arsenal on the bike to T Dog and the man seems to recover a bit, but he needs rest.

***

At night you can't sleep, too many things are still on your mind and it takes your sleep away again and again. Hearing Carol crying doesn't help you at all either. You sit on the hood of one of the abandoned cars while looking up at the sky. You have to admit that now without all the road lights and big cities, everything is so much more pure and beautiful, even though death is walking the Earth.

"What yer doin' out here?" Daryl's voice startles you for a moment, but soon you calm down.

"I couldn't sleep..." You mumble with a shrug, Daryl watches you and hums nodding his head. "And you?"

"Same thing, hearing that woman cry doesn't help me relax." He shrugs. "I'm gonna explore the place a bit, maybe we missed something..."

"Now? At night?" You look at him worriedly.

"Wanna join me?"

The first word that comes to your mind is no, that it would be too dangerous and you should stay with the others, but you know that no matter how much you tell him that, Daryl is going out anyway and for once since you've known each other, he's proposing that you accompany him. You nod, getting out of the car to follow in his footsteps and pull off the road to the side.

The night is completely quiet, you can barely hear Daryl's soft and light footsteps followed by your awkward movements, try to keep quiet, walking beside him, he seems very calm but his eyes don't stop observing everything around him.

"Do you think Sophia is okay?" you dare to ask after a few minutes of walking.

"I'm sure she got scared and looked for somewhere to hide." He shrugs.

"H-how can you be so calm?"

"Because they're kids." He pauses turning to look at you. "Kids disappear and appear constantly. I was much younger than her when I got lost in the woods."

"You got lost? Merle didn't..."

"Merle wasn't home, like so many other times and my father...well, he was never available." He sighs and you look at him curiously. "I was bored at home and decided to go out into the woods to explore on my own. I got lost. I was gone almost a full day and when I came back I made myself a sandwich and went into my room. No one noticed I was gone."

"Oh God...I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't that big of a deal, except for the itchy butt from wiping myself with a nettle." You can't help but laugh at that and watch as he smiles a little too. "Anyway, with Sophia it's different. She does have people looking for her."

You look at him again and your smile gets bigger, you don't know how Daryl works exactly, but you like how he's being with you now, you know that smile you got out of him, you're not going to forget it easily.

"What?" he asks you when you can't stop looking at him.

"Nothing..." You shrug your shoulders without breaking your smile.

"Yer fuckin' weird, woman." He snorts looking away, feels the tips of his ears burning and at the same time regrets how he talked to you that morning. Sometimes he is unable to stop before blurting out the first thing that pops into his head.

You arrive at a small camp, a tent with an unlit fire, there are some objects scattered everywhere. A few gasps and hisses put you on alert, Daryl pulls you behind his body and you gasp in fright as you discover a man hanging from a tree. You stifle a retch when you discover that some infected has tried to eat him from his feet.

"My God..." You whisper in horror.

"Looks to me like he didn't make it to safety."

"That's not funny, Daryl..." You scold him, looking for Sophia with your eyes, but it seems that no one has been there for days.

"Ya wanted me to show ya, didn't ya?" his voice grabs your attention again.

"Now? I don't think it's..."

"I dunno it cares." He gestures for you to come closer and you obey.

Daryl wraps his arms around your body to give you the crossbow and get you into the right position, you feel his body pressed against yours, his chest against your back. You feel your pulse racing and you find it hard to breathe as your face turns red. Having the hunter so close makes you nervous. You feel his hands place yours on the crossbow, his fingers brushing your skin, placing your hand on the trigger.

"Both eyes open." He speaks in your ear and you get goosebumps. "Ya need to time the distance right." You feel Daryl guide your body to aim correctly at the infected that won't stop writhing in the tree. "When yer ready, just shoot." He tells you again, your body trembles as you feel his lips brush against your ear.

You try to concentrate on what you are doing, on the important part which is learning how to use a gun, not being afraid to defend yourself against these things, because they are no longer people. You take a deep breath and your finger hesitates for a second on the trigger before you close your eyes and fire. You hear another gasp, louder this time, and all is silent afterwards. You open your eyes to discover that the arrow has pierced the skull of the infected with the first shot. You know it's not your doing, Daryl has calculated the distance and put your body in the right position so you couldn't miss, yet you feel a certain pride bubbling inside you. Daryl's body moves away from yours picking up the crossbow again and placing it on his shoulder.

"Next time don't close yer eyes when ya shoot." He tells you with a smirk. "That way ya'll avoid shooting someone by accident."

"Y-yes..." You nod sheepishly, but you can't hide your smile.

"C'mon, it's time to go back. Sophia's not here." Daryl sets off again and you follow a few steps behind him.

"Daryl, wait." You call out to him. Daryl stops to turn and look at you. You bite your lip nervously and reach his position to hold out his knife. "Here, I didn't give it to you in the end..."

"Keep it." He says shaking his shoulders. "Ya need practice, but ya've got guts." He encourages you. "Ya'll need a weapon to practice with."

"Thanks..." You gasp and press the gun against your chest. "I promise I'll stop being a nuisance."

"I'll settle for ya not killing yerself by mistake." He jokes pulling the knife away from your body. "Let's go back."

"Yes..."

You don't know if it's too risky a step, but you're happy and somewhat excited, so you can't help yourself. You move closer to Daryl and grab him by the bottom of his shirt, the hunter turns his head to look at you, you stare at each other for a few seconds, you're about to let go, but then Daryl grabs your wrist and keeps walking. It's not an abrupt gesture, nor a dominating one, he simply keeps you by his side as you walk back to the road, you know that if he had held your hand it would have been more uncomfortable for both of you.

To be continued...

***

I hope you all liked it.

See you in the next story!

#my stuff #norman reedus #normanreedus #daryl dixon #daryldixon #twd fanfiction #daryl x reader

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