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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 5 months

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Words: 5,818 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan Warnings: scary imagery, frightening scenarios A/N: This is part of a series! Find the rest on the Master List!

Summary: Escaping from the horde and leaving the ruins of the cabin behind, Daryl and Y/N head down the mountain and then must decide what happens next.

Previous Chapter

You cut the engine of the snowmobile and shut off the lights. The slope of the foothills behind you continued to carry you downwards toward the darker shadows looming, rising up in front of you like a tidal wave. The moon was bright enough to illuminate your way.

You were shivering, almost violently, and Daryl’s arms tightened around you. Your teeth chattered.

“What is it?” Daryl drawled over your shoulder.

“W—we’re almost there. We should f—find somewhere to leave the sled and g—go on foot. I don’t want th—the engine noise or lights to attract the dead or the l—living,” you stuttered. You both squinted ahead at the dark buildings.

“Yer frozen,” he said. The worry weighed heavily in his voice. “We gotta get ya warm and into some dry socks and shoes… Hopefully I can build ya a fire when we find a clear buildin’.”

“I’m—I’m okay,” you managed, though you weren’t sure you believed it. You felt as if you’d been in a daze since you’d woken up and seen the crowd of dead outside the cabin. You still had the fleeting thought that this wasn’t real, that this wasn’t happening, but then the bite of the cold on your cheeks and fingers would reassure you that it was. You were far past feeling anything in your toes, even the painful teeth of the frigid wind.

At last, you stopped the sled at the bottom of the hill and pulled it sideways along a row of brushy shrubs to conceal it. Daryl climbed off immediately and the dogs eagerly jumped out and began nosing around in the snow. Bear let out a few quiet whines, but they showed no sign of alert due to any nearby enemies, dead or living.

You climbed off the seat and staggered on your feet in the deep snow. Daryl’s hands seized your shoulders and steadied you. In the glow of the moon, you could see the frantic turmoil in his blue eyes. “Ya alrigh’?” he drawled softly. He was on edge. You could hear it in the flinty sharpness of his voice.

You gulped and nodded.

Your frozen fingers fumbled with your gear, pulling it clumsily from the snowmobile and shouldering it over the oversize parka you’d pulled on hastily on the mountain. Daryl popped open the storage container and began tugging more bags from inside, shifting them onto his back. Crossbow in hand, he was waiting nearby until you were ready, and then he began to lead the way to the closest building.

The night air was dampened of all sound from the blanket of snow. Somewhere among the buildings you could hear the occasional squeak of metal or bang, perhaps from some infected trapped somewhere, but the street seemed blessedly empty.

You were trying hard to control the violent shivering wracking your body, clenching your teeth and trying to focus on staying alert to the surroundings, but your feet had begun to burn again in your sodden layers. Daryl’s hand drifted along the painted cinderblock as he moved stealthily toward a heavy metal door ahead. You were at the back of some store, though you couldn’t say what it may have been a long time ago. There were no windows and Daryl heaved in a steadying breath when he finally stopped in front of the gray, metal door. He raised the butt of his crossbow and knocked it hard in the center. A hollow reverberation sounded and you could almost feel the vibration in your bones.

Both of you strained your ears in the silence. The dogs stood on either side of you, alert. You waited several long minutes, rigid with anticipation, until finally you wavered on your feet and Daryl almost dropped his bow in his anxiety to steady you again. His brow furrowed deeply. “I think it’s clear, but dun let yer guard down until we know for sure. We gotta check the whole building.” He reached out and tested the handle cautiously. It was loose. He turned it and pushed inside into the darkness, clicking on the light mounted on his bow.

You moved through the building efficiently, searching for any sign or people or infected, but the building was silent with its maze of shelves and newspapered windows. Part of the roof had collapsed at some point and pigeons took off and flew through the hole toward the inky night sky overhead. The dogs gave chase briefly but quickly returned to your sides when they realized the birds were far out of reach.

Daryl was shining his light around what must have been an employee break room at some point. “I think we’re good,” he drawled, heaving a relieved sigh. As if that was all you needed to hear to allow your body to finally give out, you collapsed in a heap on the floor. “Whoa—hey, hey!” Daryl rushed to you. Bear whimpered and licked your cheek. You were breathing hard, clearly exhausted and crashing after the highs of the adrenaline. “Hey—yer alrigh’,” he drawled, kneeling beside you and quickly dumping his gear down on the floor. He cupped your face between his hands and wiped at a spot of blood on your cheek from your fight with the walkers outside the shop. “We’re okay. S’gonna be okay…”

“I c—can’t f—feel my feet,” you said, reaching a still gloved hand toward your sodden feet. The slippers were blocks of ice and so were the socks beneath them.

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “Yeah… uhh—yeah, we need fire. We gotta get ya warm. Lemme—” he glanced back at the hole in the roof, perfect to let the smoke escape. “Okay. I’mma make a fire. Lemme gather up some shit to burn. Just—ya peel off those wet socks and stuff and move your toes and feet, see if ya can warm ‘em a bit with yer hands. If ya gotta, wrap ‘em in yer coat or put your mittens on ‘em.”

You realized for the first time that he barely had any winter gear on either. “W—what ab—bout you?”

He gave you a half-smile. “‘M okay. Haven’t ya noticed ‘m immune to the cold now? It almost had me once, but ain’t gonna happen again.”

His cheeks were red and windburned and you frowned. “It’s n—not a virus. Ya don’t g—get immunity l—like that, Daryl,” you argued. “Ya can’t just—”

He suddenly cupped your face and pressed his lips eagerly to yours. Yours were chilled and tasted slightly salty, like tears, but you kissed him back hungrily, feeling a screaming welling up inside your chest—too close, it was too close, too close, that was all too close… “I’ve got this,” he whispered to you when he pulled back, brushing some strands of your hair that were sticking to your cheeks. “Just rest here and try to unfreeze them toes.” Daryl was here. Daryl was going to make sure you were okay. The scream lessened to a dull roar. You nodded and watched him step away into the darkness to gather dried bits of cardboard and paper and broken pallet wood to build a fire. The glow of his flashlight was a warm torch in the cold darkness.

You sighed and turned your attention back to your frozen feet. Bear laid down against your side, whining slightly. Strider walked calm patrol around you, on alert and staring and sniffing into the darkness.

When you peeled (or cracked may be more accurate) the sodden socks from your feet, the skin on your feet was so white it looked completely drained of all life and you thought that the tips of your toes were slightly blue, but it was difficult to tell in the warm, yellow light of your headlamp. You did as Daryl had instructed and tried to move and wiggle them, mentally trying to summon hot blood back into them. You finally took off your mittens and pulled them on over your feet. Slowly the warmth from your hands began to penetrate the iciness of your skin.

An orange glow flickered to life in the direction Daryl had gone and you watched embers lick up toward the hole in the roof. Daryl reappeared around some shelves and paced over to you. “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s get ya warmed up.” He glanced at your feet and nodded. “Nice socks.”

“Thanks.” Your shivering and stammer was gone. Being out of the wind of the sled and at least protected from the worst of the descending cold of night seemed to allow your body to make some headway toward warmth again. “It’s a new trend I’m starting.” You noted that his hand was chilled as you accepted it and he pulled you to your feet. Daryl gathered up the gear and hauled it along to the fire. The dogs trotted beside you.

There was already a happy blaze and you sank down beside it and warmed your fingers and feet, sticking them out toward the flickering flames. It wasn’t lost on you that you’d almost died in a fire not 40 minutes ago and now the same thing was perhaps saving your toes. The cabin—gone. It was hard to believe it was gone. Gone like your mom and dad. Gone like Brian. All of your old life was now behind, smoldering on the mountain, perhaps trampled under rotting feet. But you’d made it out. No thanks to your own obstinacy, you’d made it out.

Daryl watched you silently for several long minutes, warming his own body in the glow of heat and throwing on more pallet wood to stoke the fire as needed. Finally, he broke the silence. “Ya okay?” he asked. His voice was thick, worried.

But you looked up at him, your eyes a bit teary and sad at first, and then you smiled. It was small and tired, but it was there. “Yeah,” you said with a nod. “I am. Or I will be… I’m with you. The boys are here,” you said reaching over to pet Strider’s ear. “That’s all that matters.”

He nodded, and a wave crashed over him, nearly dragging him under. He tore his eyes away from you and blinked furiously at the tears burning in them, staring instead at the movement in the coals. “I—I really thought I might lose ya,” he admitted. “That fire—it was spreadin’ so quick. And then the roof fallin’ in—”

You hastily pulled off the puffy coat you still had on and laid it down on the ground next to him before sitting on it, scooting close beside him. You leaned against his side and slipped your arm through his. “Me too,” you said. “But then—I heard your voice on the other side of that wall—and I knew you would get me out. I just knew that you’d do everything you could to get me out. You saved me. Again. I can’t ever repay you for all you’ve done.”

Daryl looked over at you in surprise. “Repay me?” His blue eyes flickered between yours again, but you were relieved to see that they were less turbulent. “Ya dun owe me a damn thing.” He leaned in toward you then and kissed your cheek, but it was soft and lingering and it warmed you even better than the fire did.

You laid down close to the fire, tucked against each other that night. Daryl’s arm looped over you protectively. You felt the crash coming hard from the waning of your adrenaline, the terror of your ordeal. “What do we do next?”

Daryl was almost afraid to ask the question, but he did. Part of him still didn’t believe that someone as good as you could come to him and then stay… “Will ya come with me? Back to Alexandria?”

You turned over beneath his arm and leaned up on your forearm, your eyes flickering between his, seeing his fear and his nervousness. “Of course, I will. And not just because of what happened tonight. I—I would have made the same decision if the cabin and everything was still there. I don’t—I don’t want to be parted from you.” You pressed your hand flush to the center of his chest when you said it and Daryl felt a surge of relief and happiness and hope and—

He smiled at you. Just a small one, but it touched the corners of his eyes. “Everybody back home is gonna love ya. Just wait. Ya got a ready-made family waitin’ for ya back there.”

“Waiting for us,” you corrected him.

He nudged his nose up in a nod, that signature Daryl move. “Right. Us. Tomorrow, we’ll see if my bike is still where I left it months ago when I rolled into town—see if it’ll still run. If it ain’t, we’ll figure somethin’ else out. A car… somethin’. Or take the sled as far as we can. And we head home.”

You nodded, thoughtfully biting your bottom lip. “It’s a long fucking way. Do you really think we can make it?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I know we can. The two of us together? Are ya kiddin’ me? Ain’t shit standin’ in our way.”

You let out a small laugh at that and then leaned forward and kissed him softly. His hand landed lightly on your neck. Then, exhaustion was winning and you lay down, tucked in against his chest, his arm draping over you again.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Three Months Later “Hey—hey!” Glenn shouted down to Rosita who was standing by the gate. “Did anybody go out today on a run?” he asked, glancing back up to stare down the street in the distance.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Why?” Before he could answer, she looked out through the gate and saw the approaching truck too. She hurried to climb the ladder and stood beside Glenn on the guard platform. He had dug out the binoculars and raised them to his eyes.

There was a long silence where he just seemed to be staring, fixedly, at the approaching vehicle.

“What? What is it?” Rosita urged. The truck was still too far away for her to see much with no scope to aid her.

Glenn lowered the binoculars and looked over at her, his eyes a little wide. “Go get Rick—everybody, go get everybody!” he said, almost in a daze.

“What is going on?” she urged him. That’s when his face finally cracked into a wide smile, his eyes a little teary.

“There’s a bike in the back,” he said.

She knew what that meant. “Is it—? Can you see him? Are you sure?” she asked desperately.

Glenn nodded. “Yeah. It’s him. Go get everyone! Hurry!”

In the truck, Daryl glanced over at you in the passenger seat beside him. “Are ya ready for this?” he asked.

You shook your head and shrugged. “I—I dunno. It’s a lot of people,” you laughed. “But I’m—I can’t wait to meet them. Nervous though…” you added. Bear stood, sensing the end of the journey somehow and tapping his paws excitedly on the back seat, giving a big stretch and a loud yawn and whine. Looking ahead you could see the gate, just as he’d described it, and the sign posted on the wall: Alexandria Safe Zone. Mercy for the Lost. Vengeance for the Plunderers.

Daryl’s hand landed over yours and gave it a gentle squeeze. “They’re gonna love ya. Ya ain’t got any reason to be nervous. I know it.”

The brakes squealed as the truck came to a stop in front of the gate. Daryl flashed the lights three times, the old signal they’d always used that the coast was clear to open it. He nudged his head toward his door and you nodded. You both climbed out, the dogs jumping out after you, climbing over the center console to get outside. As the metal gate rattled, drawn back by someone you couldn’t yet see. It rolled to the side to reveal a small crowd gathering. More people were rushing up the street to join them. You met Daryl’s eyes again as he stepped around his door and gave you a warm smile. Home. He was happy to be home. And you were with him. You’d made it.

Daryl shut his door and strode forward. You stopped by the front of the truck, hanging back a little awkwardly. “Stay, boys,” you murmured to the dogs. They heeled on either side of you, but Strider was wagging his tail and Bear was whining a little, looking ahead at all the people.

“Move! Watch out,” a voice rose from the crowd and a woman with short silver hair burst through. A huge grin spread on her face when she saw him walking toward the gate. Carol. It must be Carol. She rushed to him and threw her arms around him in a huge hug, then pulled back to clasp his face between her hands before hugging him again, a teary, broad smile on her face, her eyes squeezed shut. Daryl hugged her back, but looked up as the crowd parted and a lean man with curly hair broke through with a little girl in his arms at a light jog.

“Maggie, would you hold her?” Rick murmured, almost not believing his eyes as he glanced back up at Daryl standing there, Carol now at his side. Maggie, happy tears on her cheeks already, held Judith. Rick’s eyes flickered over to you briefly but then landed back on Daryl again. His expression was almost disbelief at first and then it melted into emotion he was trying hard to hold back. He walked right up to Daryl and gripped his shoulder hard, looking him square in the eye and nodding, gulping emotion back. “Where the hell have you been?” he drawled, his face finally breaking into a smile touched with tears, and he pulled Daryl into a hug, clasping the back of his neck. “God, it’s good to see you brother.”

You bit your bottom lip, choking back your own emotion at the reunion, and feeling like you were intruding on something. After Daryl broke from Rick, he was quickly surrounded as his family came one by one to welcome him home—Michonne clasped his face and kissed his cheek, Eric and Aaron hugged him with broad smiles and pats on the back, Glenn gave him a hasty hug, Maggie pressed her palm gently to his cheek and Daryl stroked Judith’s soft blond hair. He was chewing on his bottom lip hard, trying to stop himself from completely going to pieces. Carol and Rick never left his side, but after a few minutes the rest of the Alexandrians who weren’t part of Daryl’s core group wandered away with plenty to talk about. Who was that standing there with the two dogs? Do you think its Brian’s sister? Did he really find her? He can’t have made it all the way to Montana and back!

Finally, he was able to gather himself and looked back at you still standing by the car, running your fingers through Bear’s thick fur nervously, biting your bottom lip. He cleared his throat and caught Rick’s eyes again. “Rick—uhh, everybody… This is Y/N. She’s—she’s Brian’s twin sister. And that’s Bear and Strider,” he said, pacing over to pat the big lab on his head and tousle his ears around.

For a moment everyone just stared at you, mostly good-natured looks on their faces, sure, but also some pity and grief and curiosity and wariness mixed in. Daryl met your eyes and gave a questioning look to ask non-verbally, are you okay? You nodded and managed a tight smile to tell him you were, though your nerves were fizzing.

“Well, what the hell are we standing around out here for?” Carol said finally, grinning again. “Come inside!”

There was some laughter and they all moved back in past the gate.

“I’mma drive the truck in, alrigh’?” Daryl said to Rick, who gave you another appraising look and then nodded. “See ya at the house in a few.”

Carol came and gave his arm a gentle touch. “We missed you,” she said. “See you in a minute.” She glanced at you and gave you a tight smile which you did your best to return, though you were so overwhelmed and nervous you weren’t sure it came off.

“C’mon,” Daryl said, nudging his head back toward the truck. He whistled and opened the passenger side door for you and the dogs. They bounded right back in and you slid in past him. The door shut with a snap and you realized you’d been holding your breath.

Daryl climbed in behind the steering wheel again and started the engine. “Ya okay?” he asked, shifting into drive.

You nodded. “Yeah. Just—a bit overwhelmed is all.”

He nodded. “Well, ya’d been alone up there a long time. I know this is a lot. Ya want me to tell everybody ya just need some space for tonight?”

“What? No! No, I want to meet everyone,” you argued. “I do. I just need to remember to breathe,” you said with a laugh.

He nodded and his eyes flickered over your face. “I’ll be right by ya the whole time.”

“I know,” you nodded.

“And if ya do need a break, they’ll all understand.”

“I’m good,” you said.

It was a quick drive to park in front of the group’s two houses. Maggie and Glenn were waiting outside when you pulled up, and you saw Rick on the porch, though he stepped back inside as you all were climbing out.

“Is this the same bike?” Glenn asked Daryl, looking at the motorcycle in the bed of the truck.

“More or less,” he drawled. “Lots of parts went to shit on the road and had to be patched up or replaced, but most of it made it.”

Maggie was grinning as the dogs ran to greet her and she bent down to let them lick her face and to give them lots of scratches and pets. “They’re adorable,” she said.

“I tell them all the time,” you said.

“We always had dogs on the farm,” she said, scratching under Bear’s chin. The next moment she stood up and pulled you into a gentle hug. You expected her to break from you quickly, but she didn’t. She really hugged you for a long moment, and you hugged her back through your surprise. “I’m so glad you’re here. We all are,” she said. Her southern drawl was sweet and warm. “We—we all loved Brian so much.” Tears bit her vision as she said it.

You nodded and swallowed at the lump in your throat. “I know you did. Thank you for that. Daryl’s told me so much about all of you and—and I’m so grateful to be here.”

“Well, let’s get you and these cute dogs inside. We don’t need to stand out here all night. Come on in and have something to eat and drink,” she said.

You glanced back at Daryl where he was talking with Glenn still and he started after you and Maggie up the porch steps and into the warm light.

Everyone was crowded around in the kitchen after you and Daryl had time to clean up and get some food and water into you. Now there was wine being passed around and the atmosphere seemed suddenly charged as a natural lull fell in all the conversation. You and Daryl looked up and met each other’s eyes at the same time.

“Well?” Carol snapped suddenly. “Tell us everything!” she laughed. “You’ve kept us waiting long enough!” The tension seemed to break and many of Daryl’s family laughed.

He let out a gruff laugh too. “I think both of us are a little too tired for everythin’ tonight,” he said. “But we can give ya a few bits from the journey back.” He glanced over at you beside him and you nodded. “We hit a blizzard in Wyoming. Literally couldn’t see yer damn hand in front of yer face. Got snowed in for six days.”

“Daryl killed his first elk in Wyoming too,” you added with a proud smile.

“We were ambushed by hunters in South Dakota. Was a bit touchy and go but we got the best of ‘em,” he went on. “Most of Iowa was a wasteland. We dropped south to avoid the Chicago metro area, but we still saw some of the biggest hordes I’ve ever seen. Had a car wreck in Indiana and then got attacked by some group of assholes—” He almost reached for your hand at that moment. It had been one of the most terrifying, lowest points of the journey back. He could still see the gash you’d gotten on your head and the cut on your neck healing. “Uhh,” he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck instead of reaching for you. “After that, a lot of the roads were fucked or camped on by groups who didn’t look too friendly. We ended up going way south to Kentucky and trying to stay off the main roads after that…”

“Flooding in West Virginia,” you added. “We had to go way around.”

“Yeah. And then—somehow, we got back here.”

The silence settled thickly again until Tara suddenly raised a glass, a welcoming smile on her face. “To family, new and old,” she said.

“To family,” Rick echoed, giving the first wide smile you’d really seem him break into all night.

Carol raised her glass and cleared her throat. “May we look forward with hope and backward without regret,” she said.

“Hear, hear!” Abraham exclaimed, hugging an arm more tightly around Rosita.

Everyone drank, and you felt full in a way that had nothing to do with the good meal and everything to do with the warmth, safety, and welcoming company. When you glanced at Daryl at your side, his eyes were already on you.

The evening wore on and some people drifted away to bed little by little, but many of you were still gathered in the cozy space of the living room.

Daryl had stepped outside for some air and not long after Rick stepped out onto the porch and came to stand beside him, gripping his shoulder briefly and giving him a classic Rick Grimes smile. He glanced back in through the illuminated window at you sitting with Maggie and Glenn on the couch. Bear was curled up at your feet on the floor, content to snooze. Strider was hamming it up getting belly scratches from Carl and Abraham, thoroughly enjoying all the attention. Carol was cuddling Judith and seemed to be watching you closely, but not in a suspicious way—just taking you in. It wasn’t lost on anyone how you and Daryl seemed to relate to each other, his regard for you and yours for him, how he hadn’t left your side all night, the clear chemistry though no one had seen any sort of touch pass between you. “So, am I wrong or did you find more than just Brian’s sister in Montana?”

Daryl scruffed a hand through his long hair and nodded once. “Yeah… more than I bargained for, tha’s for damn sure,” he said, turning to look in at you and the warm scene with his family gathered around. He leaned back on the railing and drew in a deep breath of the cool spring air. “She saved my life,” he drawled. “I think in more than one way.”

Rick smiled. “I have a feeling you’ve done the same for her. She was up there all alone?” he asked. Daryl nodded.

“Yeah. And not just survivin’, but almost thrivin’ up there in a lotta ways. I know she left a piece of her heart back in them mountains. S’gonna be an adjustment here for sure…”

Rick nodded. “Well, it was for all of us. You especially,” he pointed out. “As for that piece of her heart, I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to help her with that too. Give her a new one.” He sighed again. “It’s good to have you home, brother. We never gave up hope but we were worried—we were starting to think maybe you wouldn’t be coming back to us.”

He ducked his head and nodded. “Yeah… It was a long haul. Twice,” he said with a wry laugh.

“But worth it?” Rick asked.

Daryl looked up at you through the window again. You were bathed in a golden glow and surrounded by other people he loved. It was better than he ever thought he’d have, even before everything went to shit. “Hell yeah.”

Rick laughed happily. “Now, one more thing… You aren’t takin’ her down to sleep in the basement, are you?” Rick asked, cocking an eyebrow at him, an amused look on his face.

Daryl scoffed. “The hell is wrong with my room in the basement?”

“Well, there’s a washer and dryer in it for starters. Second, it’s a basement,” Rick teased him. “Seems like you aren’t a bachelor anymore, Daryl. Take one of the rooms upstairs. We’ve got spares.”

Daryl sighed. “We can—figure that all out tomorrow. I was thinkin’—maybe she and I would just get a place…” Rick smiled at this. “For tonight, we just wanna crash. We’ve been livin’ on the road so long now, few months. Ain’t been stayin’ in the same place more than a couple days at a time, ya know? Will be nice to put down roots again.”

Rick’s eyes were crinkled in a smile. “Can’t wait to see what grows.”

“Me either.”

Daryl followed Rick back in, and you looked up and gave him a tired smile as he came in, trying to blink the waiting sleep from your eyes.

“Whatcha think?” he drawled, leaning forward on his hands on the back of the couch just behind you.

“I’m exhausted,” you laughed.

“Yeah, me too,” he mused, looking around at his remaining family. Judith had fallen asleep in Carol’s arms and everyone was cooing at her. “C’mon,” he said, nudging his nose up. “Let’s slip away while we can.”

You happily agreed and jumped the back of the couch, but your sneaky exit was immediately ruined by the dogs needing to follow. Hoots and hollers rose behind you but the two of you hurried out anyway, calling back only a few goodnights. Daryl grabbed your hand and led you toward the stairs. “We can crash in my old space tonight.” He could hear Rick in his head. “Uhh—but it ain’t much… s’just a mattress in the basement mostly,” he drawled.

“Better than we’ve had for a while. And as long as you’re there, I don’t care if it’s a moldy carpet on the floor,” you said.

Daryl snorted and looked down at you. “Moldy? Really?”

“Daryl, I’m so exhausted I could fall asleep standing up right now,” you said, yawning as soon as the words left your mouth.

“Well, ya dun have to do that,” he said. “C’mon. We can both get some deep sleep tonight… It’s safe here. Safest place I’ve ever had… ‘cept maybe for that cabin of yours.”

“More,” you said. “My cabin didn’t have big ass walls all around it.”

“This way,” he drawled, still holding your hand, fingers laced with yours. You followed him down the staircase and into a dim room. It looked like any normal basement; a washer and dryer on one wall, random boxes and storage. But there in one corner was a mattress, neatly made and piled with blankets and pillows. He patted a hand down on them expecting to see a puff of dust, but none arose. “Huh. Somebody musta made the bed up fresh while we were getting cleaned up.”

“My money is on Maggie,” you said, collapsing down onto the blankets and sinking in. “I like her,” you said, before another yawn interrupted you. The dogs settled on the rug.

“I like you,” he said, climbing toward you and caging you beneath his body. He stroked your hair away from your forehead and your eyes shut at his touch. “Maybe a bit too much…” he drawled, smiling. He leaned down and kissed your cheek, and then your lips. You were already drifting toward sleep.

“Too much? Not possible. And only like?” you smiled, opening your eyes again.

He gave you a look and you laughed. “Ya know—ya know I love ya,” he said. He still sounded somewhat shy when he said it… like he couldn’t believe he got to say it at all.

You gave him a sleepy smile. “I love you, too. And I’ll live down here in the spider webby basement or sleep on a moldy rug if I have to…”

He laughed and leaned in to tuck his face against the crook of your neck and breathe in your smell, his body now flush to yours. “Nah. We’re gonna build our own space together. You’ll see. But for now—my bachelor bed is the best I’ve got for tonight.” He lay down beside you and tugged you in against his body, much the same way he had by the fire that night when you’d escaped the flames and the horde. Your breathing was soon soft and deep.

“G’night,” you sighed, snuggling in, already falling into a warm, contented sleep you hadn’t had since long before, back in the cabin after you and Daryl had finally become something more.

“Night,” he breathed. Just before he fell asleep, he sent a thought to Brian, up into the ether, to tell him that he’d done as he’d promised, that you were here and you were safe, and he was going to make sure he protected you with his life… but better yet, that he’d build a life with you that he never thought he could have. I promise. I’ll do right by her. I swear on my life.

The End.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this series as much as I enjoyed writing it. I can’t wait to embark on a new series in the near future, and I have a lot of waiting one shots I have been holding off on until this was finished. And here we are! Bittersweet, it is.

#dead of winter #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 7 months

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Words: 3,704 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: pre-Alexandria Warnings: descriptions of blood and gore, language, angssstt, frightening scenarios Summary: Y/N and Daryl take a closer look at the elk kill they located. A/N: This is part of a series! Find all the previous parts on the Master List! Previous Chapter

Daryl followed silently behind you and the approach was cautious and measured. Your eyes were fixed ahead on the blur of red in the snow, the same place the ravens had risen from. As you got closer, your heart began to pound. Any elk kill by native wildlife was messy, but you could see even at a distance that this was entirely something else. The carcass finally came into focus and a swell of nausea rose in your stomach. Your feet continued to carry you closer as if of their own volition. They finally stopped when the toes of your boots reached the edge of the crimson-stained snow. Daryl stood slightly behind you, staring at the residual violence of the scene.

There was hardly anything left but puddles of clotted blood mixed with melted snow. It had been a large bull, a majestic set of antlers still attached to the head, but was now reduced to scraggly tufts of hair and nearly clean bones. The area surrounding the bull was messy with gore and blood. The ravens had been feeding on scarce scraps and picking at the little bit of flesh that was left behind. Your eyes roamed over the scene as your stomach turned again.

Daryl broke the thick silence. “This ain’t—this ain’t somethin’ natural, is it? This wasn’t wolves… or a bear?” He didn’t really need you to answer, but you shook your head.

“No,” you said, moving over and bending to look at a particular pattern of blood in the snow. You stood up abruptly and drew in a shaky breath.

“What?” Daryl asked, still not fully understanding the gravity of what the two of you had just stumbled upon.

You gulped down the sick feeling welling up in your throat and nodded at the spray you’d just examined. “This wasn’t scavenged by infected,” you said, turning to look at him. He still had a questioning look on his face. “I mean—this elk wasn’t dead when they found it. That’s an arterial spray. Something that only happens if the heart is still pumping.”

Daryl’s eyes drifted down to the blood in the snow and you watched his face darken. “How fast can—?”

“Forty miles per hour,” you interrupted him. “An elk can run forty miles per hour.” Your eyes drifted over the terrain. “They probably couldn’t hit that in here with all the trees and terrain, but still… They’re fast. And a big bull like this would have fought with his antlers, even if it was sick or weak or something. But it must have been completely overwhelmed…” You sighed, staring again at the complete decimation of the carcass. Nothing was left behind; no fat, no organs, no skin… nothing but hair and bone. “Shit,” you swore, squeezing your eyes shut against the horrific scene.

Daryl walked around it, studying the muddle of tracks in the snow. He began to follow a trampled path smeared with blood leading away from the carcass, crossbow in hand. “Hey—Y/N…”

You heard the apprehension in his voice as plainly as the whine of an emergency siren. “Hmm?” You hurried around to the other side and met him. He nodded ahead into the trees.

“There’s a path that goes off this way,” he drawled, though he didn’t need to point it out. The smears of blood and the trampled and disturbed snow was plain.

Behind you the dogs seemed on edge, sniffing at the carcass but staying alert and pacing the perimeter. You were sure they could smell that the place had been swarmed with infected. You whistled to them softly and they came to your sides. This time, Daryl let you go ahead as he scrutinized the surroundings, adjusting his grip on his bow, his fingers flexing a bit anxiously. His eyes swept behind, left, right, in front, and repeated.

The path ahead wove through the trees and you could feel your body tensing with each step. Perhaps one of your senses already knew what was coming. The anticipation had you feeling sick.

When the trees began to open up again ahead, your eyes landed on another crimson mass in the snow. Your feet stopped on their own. Your hand went to the hilt of your knife and you pulled in a long, nervous breath. Daryl heard it.

“What is it?” Daryl’s voice from behind you.

“Another kill,” you said. “Come on.”

You pushed forward again, but more slowly, and you kept your footsteps in the snow as silent as possible. It was slippery where the horde had been, the snow compacting into ice that was spotted pink and red. There was another, larger clearing ahead and it slowly came into view. Behind you, Daryl was so concerned about watching the rear and flanks that he almost bumped into you when you stopped abruptly at the edge of the meadow. The next thing he was aware of was the rapid, agitated sound of your breathing.

“No—oh my God,” you breathed out, more to yourself or maybe to the ether than to him.

Daryl stepped around you and looked ahead, getting his first glimpse of what had you so frozen and rigid. Bathed in the winter light was a meadow that looked like a warzone. The snow was stained with many ponds of blood and gore and among them were endless elk carcasses nearly picked clean. The bodies of a few infected lay motionless in the snow, perhaps killed during some struggle with a bull. The mountain air carried the sickening tang of copper and the stink of decomposition, masking the usual fresh and invigorating scent of pine.

“Holy fuck,” you muttered, your eyes moving frantically over the scene. “Holy fucking shit.”

Daryl could hear and sense your panic. The dogs could too; they were on either side of you and stayed still, ears alert and noses sniffing furiously in the air. Bear seemed to be scanning the surroundings just as Daryl had been.

Daryl took one further step out into the clearing and studied the tree line. Carcasses everywhere. Carcasses as far as he could see. Hundreds. He adjusted his grip on his bow. “We should leave,” he said, his blue eyes frantic as he watched for the dead. He finally glanced back at you over his shoulder when you didn’t respond.

Your eyes were wide and glassy and all color seemed to have drained from your face.

“Y/N?” He walked over and you finally looked at him. His expression was grim, his mouth tight and concerned.

“We—we hunted bulls from this herd—me and my dad,” you stammered. “Every fall since I was ten. There—how could—”

Daryl gulped, for the first time realizing there was a barely suppressed feeling of panic in the pit of his stomach. “’M sorry,” he murmured. “But we can’t stay here. We gotta go.”

You didn’t seem to register what he’d said. Your eyes drifted back to the gruesome, brutal scene over his shoulder. A tear broke out onto your cheek.

Daryl touched you lightly, sweeping a finger under your chin and along your jaw so you’d meet his eyes. “Y/N, we have to get outta here. This just happened this mornin’. Whatever horde did this is probably still around and we dun wanna be caught by surprise out here. We gotta go. ‘M sorry…”

Finally, you nodded and seemed to come back to yourself some. A swell of nausea rose in your stomach and bubbled nearly to your throat. Sick. You felt horribly sick. “Yeah,” you breathed. “Yeah. You’re right. Come on.” You turned away and started back down the trampled path you’d come in on, hurrying to get away from the smell of death and the brutality that had been done in that place.

_ _ _ _ _ _

When you and Daryl arrived back at the cabin, the tense silence that had nearly suffocated both of you the entire journey home remained. Unlike after the view of the valley, Daryl was determined to talk with you about what you’d just discovered. After seeing the massacre of the elk herd, he realized the issues of the infected and the new terrifying runners were even more pressing than either you or he first realized. The snares being full were a warning, the dead at the cabin during your recovery were a warning, and the infected popping out of the snow were warnings—more dead than you thought were already up the mountain.

You were hanging up your wet winter gear as Daryl stood on the rug in front of the fire. He gulped, wringing his hands anxiously but his voice finally cut through the silence. “Y/N…” he drawled gently.

You turned, but it took a long moment before you lifted your eyes to him.

“I think—we should talk ‘bout—”

You sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of your nose. “I don’t want to talk about it…”

He took two hesitant steps toward you. “I know. But we gotta.”

“I just need a little time, okay?” You were still trying to fully process what you’d seen and what it meant.

But Daryl wasn’t going to give up. This was dangerous and urgent. “We might not have time,” he said, his voice more insistent. “It woulda taken… hundreds and hundreds of infected to do what they did to that herd—”

“I know. I saw it.” There was a rising edge in your voice now, but Daryl plunged ahead despite it.

He crossed the room to stand in front of you and his voice was almost pleading. He wanted to reach out and touch you, but your body language was guarded and closed off. “Y/N, please listen to me. Ya can’t stay here. With how many of them have already made it up the mountain—shit could go real fuckin’ bad real fuckin’ fast up here now. A horde like that? Especially with those runners? They could tear the cabin apart.”

“You think I don’t know that? I was there too, Daryl. It was my idea to go to the lookout. I saw the fucking valley! I saw the—the elk—what they—” you stopped, swallowing another swell of nausea.

Daryl went rigid for a moment at the sharpness in your voice but softened again when he saw the expression on your face. Your eyes were wide, almost wild and desperate, and they were glassy. “We can’t stay,” he said again softly,

“I know what—I know what it all means, okay?” you said more quietly. “And right now, that feels like losing the last fucking thing I have from any bit of my old life.” Your voice broke as you said those last words and Daryl’s heart ached.

“I get that. I do, and ‘m sorry but—we gotta make this decision now and get the hell out before we can’t.” He finally reached for your hands and took them in his. “Come with me. We’ll load up more supplies, get the dogs, and we’ll head out, go back home—to my home. Please.. I made it before. We can make it back there together.”

Your eyes were searching his face, your expression unreadable.

“Look, I know it ain’t the easy way but—”

You abruptly pulled your hands from his and took a step back, looking at him with a furrowed brow. “Easy? Easy? Is that what you think it’s been like up here? You think surviving here alone has been easy?” Your eyes were wide as you stared back at him, flitting between his. “You think staying here, surrounded by the ghosts of my dead fucking family, was easy? You think surviving alone in this world as a woman was easy? Early on, three men broke into the cabin and tried to abduct me, take me somewhere. I killed them. You think that was easy? Groups have moved through here when the weather is good, found me, found this place and tried to take it or do worse. I’ve had to do shit to survive that no one should have to do. You have any idea how many times I just wanted to give up?”

“No—that ain’t what I—” But you were already walking away. “Y/N, that ain’t—I didn’t mean—” He was desperate to get you to look at him. You had to know that wasn’t what he’d meant. In the moment, all you wanted to do was not think. The dogs trotted behind you, tails down and ears pinned, as you made your way to your bedroom door. “Y/N—”

“None of this has ever been easy,” you said, turning back to glance at Daryl. “None of it. And neither is this shit.” Daryl flinched at the slam of the door behind you.

“Fuck,” Daryl swore, angry at himself and had how you wouldn’t just stop for one second and listen. How could he have chosen his words so poorly? He found himself lashing out at the nearest thing which happened to be a stack of books and old magazines. His hand flicked out at them and they toppled to the floor in a jumbled heap. He rubbed a hand over his face and paced the length of the room, consumed by a jittery, anxious energy. His eyes kept going to the closed door of your bedroom.

Inside, you found yourself shaking as you walked to your bed and collapsed onto the edge in a seated position. Bear gave a soft whine and laid down at your feet. Strider ambled over and rested his chin on your leg, looking up at you with big, chocolate brown eyes. You stroked his head a few times before collapsing backwards onto your bed, your legs still dangling off the side.

It felt like there was a weigth on your chest, pressing on your lungs.

Leave? How could leave? But you had to leave.

Your mind careened between these two thoughts endlessly.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl looked away from the frosted window where night had fallen and his eyes landed back on your door. He hadn’t heard a sound since you’d shut it and him out. He chewed on his bottom lip and climbed to his feet, restacking the books he’d shoved off the coffee table in his anger. He hadn’t managed a fucking thing since the argument. He felt unsteady and sick. He’d only accomplished taking a shower and he’d blasted himself with cold water like some kind of punishment…

He gulped and paced over to your door, hesitating with his hand ready to knock. He just needed to hear your voice. He needed to know you were at least somewhat okay in there. Shoving down his anxiety, he softly tapped his knuckles on the door. “Y/N?” His voice came out more gravelly than usual.

“Daryl, please just—just leave me alone. I need some time...”

He was relieved to hear anything from you, but the worry in the pit of his stomach didn’t vanish. He sighed and shut his eyes but no magic words to convince you to open the door came to him. “I’m—‘m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“I know. But I need some time,” you interrupted him.

“Alrigh’. I’ll be—I’ll be in the other room if ya need anythin’,” he finished lamely. When you didn’t say anymore, he drifted away to the other bedroom and laid down on top of the quilt on his back. At some point, he heard you move through the cabin, speaking softly to the dogs. He deciphered the clink of their food bowls and then the creaking of the cabin door.

He rushed to the doorway and looked out toward the front door, suddenly seized by worry that you’d decided to go off into the night for some unknown reason, but when all your winter gear was still hanging by the door his panicked eased. In a moment, you came back in with the dogs and looked up to see him standing in the doorway across the cabin. Daryl felt an electric jolt up his back like he always did when your eyes met, but it was quickly replaced by a chasm of space in his chest at how sad and drawn you looked. Your eyes were a bit red and puffy, a clear sign that you’d been crying and he found himself desperate to put things right.

“Y/N, I—”

You lifted a hand gently to stop him. “I know that isn’t what you meant. I know. But I just can’t right now, okay? Let’s just go to bed and we can try and—and talk tomorrow. Alright?” Daryl nodded, but the look on his face was agony. There was a sharp, insistent pang in your heart as you looked at him. The man thought he’d ruined everything.

To Daryl’s surprise, you wove your way across the room and stopped close in front of him. Your hand came to land lightly on his cheek, and although you didn’t smile and your expression was still drawn, you leaned in and press a kiss to his other cheek.

His eyes closed at the soft touch of your lips and when you stepped back, much of the distress was gone from his face. His blue eyes flitted over your features as you withdrew. “Tomorrow. Okay?” you whispered.

He gulped and managed a nod and watched you until you disappeared into your bedroom again.

_ _ _ _ _ _

At some point, perhaps from sheer exhaustion, Daryl had managed to fall asleep. You had too, despite the churning and biting anxiety in your stomach. But sometime in the early hours of the morning, Strider sat up in bed beside you and growled. It shot you awake immediately.

The room was dark, the fire in the hearth having died down. Even the coals were cloaked in a fresh layer of still hot ash. You sat up and strained your hearing, but for a long moment you didn’t hear anything. You reached for the light on your nightstand and clicked it on. Still nothing you could hear. The only sound was the thumping of your heartbeat loud in your ears.

Then Strider growled again. And Bear was alert where he had been lying in front of the fireplace.

Then you gasped as you heard a dull thud on the wall of the cabin. Your breaths came quickly now. Silence. Then a dragging along the outside wall. Strider growled again and you calmed him and continued to listen, trying to identify if this was animal, dead, or human…

Another bang and a growl, which was clearly not an animal. Then a deranged yell, the kind those fucking runners made. Another thud, but in a different part of the wall. A scratching sound. Shit.

You were frozen, sitting up in bed, straining your hearing to its limits. Please just let them move on. Please. Worried that some of the light from your lamp would show around the edges of the building, you clicked it off, but that only increased your unease. You wondered if Daryl could hear them on his half of the cabin.

There were a few final sounds, but eventually everything was still and silent again and it seemed that any infected outside had moved on. The dogs had settled again, easing your concern further. You felt for the hilt of your knife beside you on the nightstand, and being reassured it was within easy reach, you laid down again and settled into the pillow. Sleep took you again.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Another jolt awake. It was still dark. Barking. The dogs were barking. Your throat burned. You coughed, sitting up in bed, disoriented. Your hand flew to your knife on the side table. Smoke? You smelled smoke. You tasted smoke. Fire. The cabin was on fire?

You flopped out of bed onto the floor, the dogs moving around you urgently, chaotically. Why hadn’t the smoke alarms gone off? You crawled, coughing from the thick, hot air and groped for the light switch by the door. Nothing. No power? There was no power. No power, no smoke alarms. Had the main fireplace caught? Had an ember gone unnoticed somewhere?

What the hell was happening? Everything was happening so fast. Your thoughts were racing.

You reached the doorknob but let out a yell when it burned your palm. Your pressed a hand to the wood of the door experimentally and it was entirely too warm. Your eyes went to the bottom of the door and keyed in on the reddish—orange glow. Fuck! A big fire. Outside your door. SHIT. Out. You had to get out. Daryl? Was he awake? Was he okay? You couldn’t stop coughing. Every breath singed your throat. You pulled your shirt up over your nose and mouth in hopes of filtering out some of the smoke and soot. “Come on, boys! Come here!” you yelled to the dogs, and that’s when you finally registered the noise. That pounding, dragging, growling, scratching sound was loud in your ears—loud enough you had to yell over it. The dead.

You continued your crawl to the window, calling for the dogs to follow you, and as you approached it the volume of the cacophony of noise grew. You stayed hunched on the floor below the sill, panicked, frozen. Infected. The dead were outside, and by the sound of it, it was a flood of them.

You were trapped. Any moment they could come through the glass on the window. It was rattling in its pane.

The cabin was on fire. And the dead had come. And you were trapped.

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