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daryldixonfanfiction · 5 months

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What you fight for! Pt.3- what changed your mind?

Masterlist

Summary: Daryl has his doubts, but as he grows closer with Julia that all seems to change...

Warnings: protective Daryl, age gape, pinning, angst, fluff, typicall twd violence and gore.

WC: 11k

Daryl couldn't go back to sleep.

Daryl was a light sleeper and often never slept the hours he needed. Meaby it was the hunter in him or the fact he could never fully relax. He was awake now and the consequence of their fair share of moonshine aches all over -He felt like shit.

Standing with a heavy grunt, Daryl lets his gaze fall on Julia. She sleeps on the forest floor, curled in a fetal position, with her head resting on her hands. Daryl smiles, she was put out like a light when they turned in for the night, sleeping without a care in the world. Daryl felt envious, wishing he could sleep as soundly as her.

A twig snaps from behind, in reflex Daryl grabs his crossbow, aiming towards the rustling. He engages slowly but quickly finds the walker skare was just a false alarm. The culprit was no other than one harmless rabbit chewing on a peas of gras -Daryl exhales in relief.

“Well hello breakfast,” Daryl takes his aim towards the rabbit and shoots a bolt, but misses when the rabbit gets scared off by nearby birds. He sighs.

Julia stirs, she lies on her back, hands ley lax on either side of her face. Daryl turns thinking she had woken up, but Julia continues staying sound asleep, her chest rises and falls steadily. Daryl kneeled slowly beside her, to wake her, but decided against it seeing the dark circles faintly visible under her eyes. She needed rest so he let her be.

Then…

his gaze wanders from her lips, down her neck, to her breathing chest, down further down to her thighs. He swallowed seeing the ankle length skirt revealed her skin, innocently -nearly revealing her undergarments. Daryl glanced nervously towards her face. Still sound asleep. With a shaking hand, Daryl covers her legs with the skirts fabrike. Julia stirs again and Daryl froze. If Julia saw him holding her skirt, even if pulling it down, she would certainly miss judging the situation.

Julia mumbles something incoherently, unbeknownst of Daryl's panic. He sighed, dropping his shoulders in relief, seeing her eyes were closed and face lax in what appeared to be deep sleep.

He rises, standing to his full height, throwing the crossbow over his shoulder. Daryl continues the search for breakfast and hopefully brings back a rabbit or two. Daryl was sure he would have time before she woke as the sun was still under the horizon. Before he goes he looks back, seeing Julia lying there. She would be fine, the forest was quiet and he wasn't going far knowing more rabbits were close, so he continued forward, deeper into the forest.

…

Julia's eyes flutter open, she looks tiredly upon trees above her. Slowly sitting up she scrunches her face, her head pounds making her groan with a hand against the forehead.

“I’m never drinking moonshine again,” -It felt like she was dying.

Her eyes scanning -sershing, searching for him. A pang prices her chest. For a moment Julia thought about Daryl leaving her, that he had left. But would he really?

Daryl’s backpack rests against the nearby log. She picks up his hunting knife and lets her gaze travel along its sharp edge for a moment, studying it. Julia sits on her knees, attaching the knife to her belt then continues, looking through his pack finding some matches, stacks of dollar bills, a plastic jar of cinnamon sticks - she takes one and starts to chew on it, she continues placing the plastic jar back, finding valuables like rings and gold chains. -she shakes her head, because what was Daryl thinking he was gonna do with money and jewelry? She stops her snooping and drums her fingers on her knees with a sigh.

The cinnamon's strong taste makes her terribly thirsty and as if in que, Julia hears water pouring somewhere nearby. Julia found it to be pretty easy to navigate her way. Before she even reached the water’s edge she knew it to be a river.

A fallen tree extends over the burbling river as clear water travels along its bed, bubbling over rocks and branches in the shallower parts as forest hills and trees line the river shore where she stands.

Julia gazed with awe before closing her eyes, she inhaled, savoring the pure scent of wildlife, then exhaled gazing down where the water ended and kneeled, and reaches a hand into the water taking a sip of the pure water and grips a smooth rock, letting it rest in the water for a moment before pulling it out. She cloutshes the rock then picks up another flat stone with her other hand and piles it on top of the other. She continues to stack the rocks, each smaller than the one before, making a cairn. Perhaps a way of mourning? Julia didn't know but she hoped, hoped wherever people go after they die was a kind place.

Gripping the fabric of her dress, Julia notests maybe for the first time how dirty she really was. The cowboy boots were unrecognizable, covered in dry dirt and mud, making the beautiful western embroidery unnoticeable. The skirt, torn and ingrained in dirt where her knees had pressed when sitting. The short sleeved button down was stained with filth and splash stains. Julia begins undoing the buttons of her shirt and lets it fall to the ground, then the belt. She places the knife for easy access, she lets the skirt slip down her legs and leaves it with the rest, placing her bracelets on top. The boot's fit is snug, so she sits down on her bottom to easily pull them off, the mid calf socks follow along still in the boots. Julia goes into the river leaving her only in undergarments and a camisole. Its vintage floral print is faint, spaghetti straps reach down to a ruffled hem snugly hugging her chest. Its cotton fabric flows loosely down the rest of her body ending just above the knees. Julia began to wade into the water until it came up above her chest. She looked back where she had settled her things on the shore then submerged into the river.

…

Julia was gone by the time Dayl returned. His pack remains, resting against the log just like he left it.

"Julia!" Daryl calls out, he's met with no answer.

He kneels, investigating footprints removing a leaf they headed the opposite direction where he came, leading further down the forest. He could tell she was doing fine so far, there was no sign a walker was anywhere near her. The sound of water pouring became clearer. Daryl heads towards it -chances were Julia hasn't gone that far and would most likely be there. But what was she thinking? But on the other hand he knew he had made a poor choice leaving her alone.

Making his way to the river Daryl halts rounding a tree and he stops for a moment, notesting Julia's clothes neatly pleased by shore from a far. Anxiety bloomed in his chest. Because what happens if he finds her and she’s bit? Daryl didn't know the answer to that and he certainly didn't like the idea of it. Agin, he should never have left her.

Stop worrying. I’m gonna locate this girl, she's gonna be just fine. He told himself.

Daryl prosedes with his crossbow in hand. He walks slowly and stops, picking up the knife placed on top of her folded clothes. Daryl looks around, scanning for anything but sees nothing. The twisting feeling with something he knew - it was familiar…

Sophia.

Finding her doll lying in the creek just like Julia’s clothes lies on the shore. He didn't like this, not one little bit.

“Julia!” Daryl calls out scanning his surroundings, then turns towards the tree line behind him, but then…

Julia emerges from the surface, wiping her hair back, smoothing the wet hair from her face and Daryl felt his panic fade the moment she emerged. But just as fast he was pissed off, almost wanting to grab her right then and there, dragging her out of the water. He refrains himself from doing so by blowing an attention grabbing whistle instead and commands, “Girl, come up here before you drown!”

Julia’s head wipes towards the shore, spotting a figure there, standing. She knew it to be Daryl just by the voice. And there he was, two dead animals hanging attached to his belt. Relieved she couldn't help the way her mouth upturned in relief, she hurried with excitement towards him, not paying attention to his harsh tone.

He really didn't leave.

“Julia. You could have been pulled under,” Daryl scolds as Julia gets closer, “Even if the river looks calm it can still be strong,” -and closer and he continues standing just on the water's edge.

“Is that rabbit!? Two!” Julia confirms, excitedly.

“Hey, are you even list- The words disappear from his mouth.

Julia’s bare feet stood before him; he's at a loss of words. She looked breathtaking. The morning light painted her soft features along her face and neck. Water dripped from the ends of her curls as some strands she mused had missed are stuck to her cheeks and forehead. The camisole dress was drenched, accentuating her soft feminine curves, spaghetti straps hung loosely off her shoulders, her hardend nippels poked through the fabrike, leaving little for the imagination. Her eyelashes curled, enhancing her brown eyes beautifully. Everything about her was so feminine and pure. If he didn't know any better he would have thought she was Aphrodite herself.

Daryl didn't know where to look. He didn't even notest he’d dropped the knife and crossbow, she didn't seem to either.

Unbeknownst, Julia didn't notice how his breath became heavy nor how his pupils had blown wide -so she reached for the rabbits because she had never seen wild ones this close before. But Daryl turns cold, moving so quickly Julia didn't have time to react. His hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist so tightly, she swore it cracked under the pressure forcing a cry to escape her lips, she nearly fell to her knees from the pain. She lifts her gaze, confused by his sudan grabbing. In that moment Julia wished she could read his mind, figuring out what went beyond those deep blue eyes, and that hard face. But what Julia didn't know was his reason for doing so, stopping her was to stop whatever urge within. Fearing if she got to close, he would give in to something he…he didn't quite know what, it felt… wrong.

Julia pushed at his hand with her free one and managed to croak, “You're hurting me,” making Daryl snap out from what every daze he was in. But the moment he lets go he sees something he never noticed before.

That is…

The edges of his vision turn dark with a sort of panic he wasn't sure existed within himself, he commands with a low tone, “Show me your arm.” Causing her to jump.

Julia pulled her arm behind her back -biting down on her lip, looking anywhere but him. She should never have taken the bracelets off, but it was too late for regrets.

Daryl yanked her arm back just as fast. There was a heavy flinch, then a slight struggle. However, it didn't take much to overpower her. Daryl pulls her towards him, stretching her arm out revealing the bite mark just above the inside of the wrist. His face became hard, almost angry, she could feel it too, how his hold hardened further if that was even possible, and she hadn't realized how small her wrist was in his until she glanced down, seeing how his hand easily swallowed hers.

Julia stares up, blinking several times -meeting Daryl's cold glare. Her pupils shake with a sort of panic, shaking her head frantically as her long curls fall in her face.

“No, No!” “No, I’m not sick!” “I am not sick!” “I am not sick!”

Daryl shakes his head as if not buying it.

She points to the bite mark, “This is three months old.” “Nobody lasts more than a day!” “Does this look a day old to you?” She insisted, voice cracking, as if she was trying desperately to make him believe her.

Daryl looked at the bitmark then back at her glaring intensely.

“You would have killed me!” The words came shakingly more than anything. Because she was frightened, remembering Marlene's warning.

Daryl didn't say anything as he inspected the wound with his gaze; he had never seen anything like it before. it was faint, as it had healed. Was he angry? He didn't know.

Julia continued because she was so scared… so desperate. “Does it look like I’m infected? Julia asked -Daryl stares, searching her eyes for an explanation. Maybe if he were calmer, he would realize this was all wrong. She was scared out of her mind. But it had become something much more.

“See it's not getting any worse.” “I’m not gonna turn.”

Daryl’s face became unreadable, voice firm and questioning, “What was Marlene doing with an infected kid like you?”

“I’m not a kid, and am not infected.” She answered, sounding slightly annoyed. As he doesn't respond she continues and admits, “Marlene found me after I was bitten.”

“And she didn't shoot you.” Daryl States.

“Yeah… She made me distance myself from everyone and tested me every day. To see if I was getting sick.”

"Test you how?” Julia didn't answer. His voice became deep and threatening in his chest as he all but groweld, “Test you…how?”

Julia let out a heavy breath, she answered, “She'd make me count to 10 and hold out my hand and then keep it steady, and guess what, I didn't turn into a Walker.” -She inhales “I've made it through these past 3… ” -she corect’s herself. “4 days. I'm fine.” -She insists almost pleadingly.

But Daryl felt indifferent, because she just didn't seem to get it.

“You need to stop talking’ like there is some kind of future ahead, because there ain't.” He said it a little too harsh then he should have because her chine trembled in response and her eyes looked pained, but she restrained herself from crying.

His hand that wasn't gripping her pointed a daring finger towards her, demanding, “Why are you so important to Marlene, and don’t lie to me. Answer the question.”

Julia's body language became nervous, uneasy in his grip. She answered, knowing there was no way to avoid it. “She told me not to tell anybody, and now I’m telling the first person that I– She interrupted herself inhaling a needed breath for any kind of courage.

Daryl stares, impassively waiting for her answer.

She exhales and begins, “There's a base camp somewhere out west, you can see it on the map…There doctors. They’re working on a cure. And what happens to me..is the key to finding the vaccine.”

"Mm-hm." -Daryl grunts, shaking his head, “I’ve heard that before”. It reminds him of the CDC, and he wasn't fond of that memorie. -Daryl continues speaking way too harsh for her liking.

"I call bullshit. Vaccines, miracle cures. None of it works. I’ve been at the CDC. And you know what, the scientists had either left or opted-out. I almost got blown up in the process so don’t feed me with this miracle cure bullshit. Whatever Marelene has told you, you better forget, because it's gonna get you killed.” Daryl said directly staring into her eyes.

He then stepped forward, she stepped back, causing him to pause letting go of her wrist as if he became self-aware of how intimidating he was. Daryl felt a guilt burrow and the argument melted away - because..he saw how she inhaled, holding her arm close to herself. Maybe he had done too much? And it was going to haunt him every time he looked at her.

Julia stairs, eyebrows furring -searching for something to somehow change his mind, she felt almost a sense of defeat. His cold eyes turned sad and Julia didn't want to quarrel, he didn't seem to ether.

“Daryl.” Julia said after a few moments. Taking one step closer, he appeared surprised by the movement. “I know I must have scared you, disappearing like that.” Her voice laced with sincerity, eyes looking into his.

Daryl lowered his gaze in return. He couldn't seem to find the right words. To his surprise, Julia wrapped her arms around him and her head was against his chest, embracing him just like before. He jolted slightly but returned the embrace, although he was stiff and hesitant at first. Carefully his hand placed itself on the small of her back, he needed that.

“I’m sorry.” Julia said softly. Daryl could feel how her fingers gripped the back of his vest and her wet hair causing his shirt to dampen as she held him even closer -to make the words more true. Daryl nodes slowly in response. She couldn't see it as she was pressed to his chest but she felt him do so.

“We should eat,” His voice was deep and rumbling within his chest. His chest is warm, he always seemed to be -a gentle contrast from the dripping chemise clinging to her skin. There was this moment, where she just listened. Listened to him breathe, and she swore she could feel his heart beating or maybe it was her one? She tilts her head up to speak. Daryl does the same, gazing down with that unreadable face he often made.

She looked small. He could see her begin to shiver and goosebumps forming on her skin as she said -smiling softly.

“Not gonna lie but I’m starving.”

…

They were forced to continue further within the forest the next day, making their stay on the river bank a short one; he had spotted a walker.

Daryl’s strides were wide compared to hers, they didn't talk. Julias mind was elsewhere, her mind often was. Always thinking about everything and nothing at once. She often was distracted like that when nothing seemed to happen. A dangerous flaw in a world like this.

The forest was quiet, nothing seemed out of place. She liked the green and the chirping of the bird's maid. It almost seemed like everything was normal, as if they were on a simple walk out in the forest.

Julia notest Daryl's change of pace. His steps were careful, his gaze set on something ahead, making him lower himself, almost kneeling. Julia does the same. With a motion of his index finger he reveals what caught his eye. Just a couple of meters ahead a light green tent is set up. Julia stairs for a moment before she said.

“There could be someone inside.”

“Could be a whole bunch of things in there.” Daryl wisperd, stating simply.

He stalks closer, leading the way, Julia follows close behind. He scans their surroundings, crossbow against his cheek, taking a couple of more steps he then slows down, motioning for a halt handing her the crossbow. Julia stairs, confused. What was she gonna do, she can't even shoot? He then motions for the knife attached to her belt. Of course the knife, she gives it to him and he gives a silent command, stay here with a motion of his finger. Julia frowns, she didn't want to be left standing there all alone, but she nods, giving in knowing there was no room for arguing.

Daryl slowly approaches the tent, knife firm in his grip. He tries to peek through the flap of the opening then traced back in his steps avoiding the trash surrounding the tent, then carfolly lifts the outer fabric to get a glimpse of what could be inside, seeing nothing indicating there was something there he returns to the opening. He unzipped it slowly, all about making as little noise as possible. For a moment she thought his movements seemed more than just a hunter's, as if he has done this before.

Daryl redis himself with the knife high up, its edge pointing downwards -in the purpose stabbing whatever he had thought could be inside. He lifts the fabrike of the opening, she is too far back to see but she could tell there was something, noesting how Daryl turns his head and coughs in a disgusted manner shielding his nose with the hand still gripping the knife. Without hesitation he steps inside, disappearing from Julia’s view -she swallows anxiously.

Inside Daryl finds a man dead in a chair, with his brains blown all over the fabrike, the jaw was gone as it had been blown to bits by a gun or a shotgun of some kind. Daryl grimaces in disgust of the decomposed smell.

Outside Julia had become more anxious. The quiet felt like Daryl was forever in that tent, making her call out. “Daryl?” No response - she steps closer and calls out once more, “Daryl?”

Daryl reaches for the gun in the corpse's hand, taking it and puts it in the small of his back holstering it there, then emerges out, notesting Julia standing right outside and not where he left her.

“I told you to stay back,” Daryl scolds.

“What’s in there?” Julia asked curiously, trying to get a glimpse inside, Daryl steps in front of her as if not wanting her to see as he explained simply.

“Some guy. Did what them scientists did. Opted out.” Right she remembered him telling that back at the river.

“Oh,” Julia breathed in response, he could be so blunt sometimes.

A pause then…

“There could be stuff inside we might have youse off,” she tried to step round him but Daryl stepped in front again, holding her in place by the arm -lightly, not putting any pressure, simply keeping her from entering. He didn't want to subject her to such a sight and to be honest it disturbed him.

Julia searches his gaze. He seemed to be thinking for a moment and then he gave in and said.

"Alright." But you stay here.” Julia nodes heavenly doing as she was told.

After some rustling Daryl emerges from the tent throwing her a bag, it lands before her feet. Opening it she hesitates for a moment, this was once someone’s, perhaps this was wrong, it felt like stealing. Daryl noticed her hesitating and said, “Don't think, just take what you need.”

Julia started digging through the bag, there wasn't really anything until she found what she had in mind. She puts on the knitted gray cardigan and buttons it, she looks to Daryl, looking him up and down. She looked through the bag once more, finding a men's long sleeve button down and a black denim jacket. Holding the jacket out before her she looks up at him then back to the jacket making Daryl shift on his feet, feeling her eyes scanning his body.

“What?” He grunts.

She smiles and tosses the clothing items at him. Daryl easely catches with his one hand then inspects the clothes holding it out in front of him.

“Put them on, I think it will suit you.” Julia insisted. Daryl grunt’s in response and she didn't quite figure out if it was disapproving or approving.

Daryl peels the vest off, sliding his arm through the shirt, then the denim jacket on top, finishing with his signature biker jacket.

Pleased, she smiles to herself, it suited him just like she imagined. Daryl then goes back inside the tent as if looking for something. To her surprise, he walks out with a cheated knife. Her mouth opened, agape a moment as she looked into his eyes, and then down at the weapon - it being offered to her, and he said simply,

“You're better off with this. Won’t be clumsy in your grip like mine, and it’s lighter.”

Daryl urges the weapon into her hand -Julia accepts it, she would like to think it was a gift, she liked the idea.

Daryl notest she had struggled with his, and often at times it looked like she was going to cut her damn fingers off. His solution was simply giving her a less harmless weapon, in harmless meaning from her clumsy fingers.

…

Daryl had noticed the bruise his grip had left behind, Julia sat beside him, staring into the fire, following the flames with her gaze. He removes the meat, handing her a piece.

"Here." She takes it.

A few moments passed…But then he began and said, “Hey, sorry for what I did that morning.” He gives an awkward glance, she stares up at him silently and she notest how his gaze travels to her wrist. And maybe she had not really noticed, but a bruise had formed there. Her gaze returns to him, shaking her head slowly. She knew why he was apologizing. He was apologizing for grabbing her. But Julia knew he did not mean to hurt her, he was scared.

"No." “I should have told you.” Julia said softly.

Daryl stairs for a moment then diverts his gaze and bises himself with the fire, feeding it tinney sticks to just keep it going. He still felt guilty and even more when she wasn't upset.

Julia leaned forward to place a bigger stick into the fire, Daryl stops her from doing so. Julia frowns, confused by the interruption and she questions, “Why? It’s freezing.”

“Because it'll attract e’m,” Daryl said simply.

“You mean Walkers?” Julia stairs, gauging.

There was silence before she spoke again..Sounding perplexed, “People?" It was a bit quiet, the way she said it - hesitant. As if she was pretty sure she didn't want to know the answer. Daryl gives her a look and continues to toss the small sticks into the fire and Julia begins to pick at her food as anxiety starts to bloom in her chest.

“So what are they gonna do? "Robb us?” A hint of sarcasm plaid in her voice, masking that unsettling feeling growing in her stomach.

“They’ll have way more in mind than that.” He eyed her sternly and she knew what he was insinuating and it made the anxiety only worse and her heart quickened. Maybe she had been naive, never had she believed people could be something to fear. She could only muster a quiet “Oh,” in return.

Part of him had hoped she'd go to sleep after that but she continued to look at him, as if thinking or perhaps waiting for him to say something.

The fire caused her gentle features to glow orange and red, she lifted her head, resting it on her hand and her elbow into the forest floor. Daryl remained on his back, arms crossed holding his knife over his chest, he pretends not to notice her staring.

“Daryl,” Julia began, he hums in acknowledgement, noticing the hesitance in her tone as she all but whispers. “when you said, ‘they’ll have way more in mind… There’s no way anyone knows we’re here, right? No one’s gonna find us?”

Daryl knows, but he doesn't tell her the truth for the benefit so she could sleep peacefully, so he lies, he lies straight to her face and assures, “No one’s gonna find us.”

"Okej." She said, because really she just needed to hear him say it, to hear the confirmation leaving his lips. With that she adjusted herself to sleep -and turned over shutting her eyes, her head resting against the backpack and the conversation was over.

Daryl curls his arm underneath his head then turns his head to look at her facing him with her back, his eyes studying her. Daryl knows she’s frightened, even though she tries to hide behind sarcasm. She was naive in her ways. A part of him wanted her to guard herself - but selfishly, another part of him enjoyed seeing optimism. She had empathy like no other, when she told him it did matter, even if that mannequin corpse of a woman was no one she knew. She cared so deeply and so easily, ultimately selfless, he had never met anyone like that before. He could only assume whatever upbringing she had received from her family had something to do with the ability to not become hardened and maintain that purity, that heart and compassion. She had pleaded for him to believe her, that she was some type of cure, and that bite mark fucking scared him. He didn't know what to believe. Holding onto hope he himself could not. Because there was nothing, nothing that would change his mind. To him it was just another pipe dream, a fairytale Marlene had put in her head. It was no surprise Marlenen had chosen her, she seemed like the sort of girl who would believe blindly because she simply didn't know any better.

Daryl shifts his gaze scanning the trees surrounding them, holding the knife close to his chest, glancing towards his crossbow resting beside him. And he knew it was there, he just needed to make shore. He stairs a few moments looking at Julia, she seemed to have dozed off. Daryl couldn't stop from dwelling on what she had said with that small frightened voice.

There’s no way anyone knows we’re here, right. No one’s gonna find us…

He kept thinking about it over and over. Every fiber of his being was almost nauseous over it. Thinking about something like that coming true. Thinking about her being in danger, being hurt -he couldn't imagine what it would be like losing her to. This new sense of fear had become more evident each day since the prison fell. He didn't recognise it as fear at first but then he did. The closest thing to it was that same feeling he had felt when they had captured that kid, Randall on the farm. Knowing there were people out there hurting kids, women, young girls, girls like her. Men like that have no soul, no remorse. He forced himself not to spiral any further, not to be emotional in such a way. Instead he shoved it down. He pretended it wasn't there, doing the only thing he knew.

Julia gently turns over, hands resting beneath her cheek as Daryl stands in distance pacing back and forth and stays up until dawn cracks beneath the horizon. Keeping her safe.

…Julia had thought about what Daryl had said that night. And she was grateful. But the unsettling feeling still lingers, she remembered how his eyes had looked, they held a knowing in them, as if he had seen the darkest part of life that she herself had not. A part of her wanted to ask him more, to know what he knows, ask him of what cruelty he had seen. She referred not to of course, it would be selfish. If he wanted to share he would simply tell her.

Julia walks in his footsteps, a game she entertains herself with. Suddenly…Daryl halted, making Julia bump into him, pulling her from her thoughts. Daryl turned to face her and said…

“Take out your knife. I want to show you something.”

Julias brows furrowed, but she did as she was told, unholstering it, holding the weapon to her side.

“Which is your lead foot?” Julia shrugged, she didn't know.

Daryl moved quickly, with one intimidating stride towards her. It was quick and she instinctively stepped back and she understood now where this was going -he was teaching her. Daryl continues speaking to her firmly, clearly to make her understand.

“If someone comes at you, you race this arm up and you block, and use their strength against them.” Julia did so, blocking him with her forearm, staring intently upon him for further instructions. He reached around, grabbing her hand in his that was holding the knife and pulling it towards his chest, his hand that wasn't gripping her hand grabbed her opposite by her wrist. He was somewhat rough with the movements holding her so close she could feel his breath grasing her face and his touch, warm wrapped around her wrist against the autumn breeze.

“You're small, so wait until they’re close and you drive it through their heart to the hilt.” -her gaze shifts from his chest back to his face, “You understand?” His eyes searched hers shaking her firmly, desperate to make her understand, and he continued, “Do not hesitate. And you look in their eyes and do not pull it out until you see their soul.”

Julia blinked -processing his words slowly. That seemed to be a difficult thing to do. At least inside of herself. His hands were steady, steadier than hers as she tilted her head to look up at him. Then placed a hand flat to his chest where her gaze had shifted. He lightend his grip in return as she pulled back and he dropped his arms to his sides. She held the knife with both of her hands, still looking to his chest where the knife had pressed to his heart. The idea of hurting someone, killing someone felt impossible. She inhaled…then shakes her head stepping back. He stared down at her, as she all but whispered, “I couldn't do that.”

He continued to stare at her, until eventually he moved and simply said, “Well, you might not have a choice.”

…Daryl tucked his jacket around her limp form, she was curled against his side as soft snores rumbled through her lips. Daryl didn't know when they had begun to draw close to one another. He worried it was for selfish reasons. She seemed terribly comfortable after only spending the past several days with him. And despite them having gone through a few stressful situations together -it concerned him. He was more concerned about himself, about how he was behaving, getting distracted by many of the things that she did. And how he couldn't seem to keep his breath even when she got so close. Especially at night. And the worst part of all. He was longing for it.

Julia snuggled her way into his arms and Daryl nearly moved away, but only tensed for a moment. Her head was on his chest and she had grabbed hold of his shirt for what he could only assume was a form of comfort. Daryl doesn't hold people he finds them, but he couldn't deny the warm, fuzzy feeling he felt when she tugged on his shirt as if he was worth holding onto. And he lets her as he studies her soft face, lax with sleep. Even though it was innocent, she was tormenting him. With a deep sigh he tried to stop his heart from racing and his mind from wandering. He moved ever so slowly to prop his hands underneath his head, gazing upon the night sky, his body became heavy and relaxed as he slowly drifted into sleep.

Daryl was typically the one who woke up first, this morning was no different. He was grateful he did. They lay how they fell asleep. Carefully he removed her hand from his shirt, slowly slipping it from her fingers. Her hands laid lax against her chest. He sat up fully then turned his head to look down at her, in doing so, he wanted to move a bit of hair from her face, but refrained. He seemed to do that alot, refraining.

He noticed when Julia woke up, and started moving around. He would never tell her about last night, afraid it would be awkward if he did, so he pretends like nothing had happened. As if she hadn't been sleeping on his chest or how he could feel her heart beating against his. He had taken notice how soft she was, different from himself. Of course they had been close when she had hugged him by the shed and by the river a couple of days ago. But it was nothing like this, this was different.

Daryl scratched his stubble staring ahead, Julias soft voice pulled him from his thoughts, “Daryl,” and he hums in agnolishment still staring ahead.

Slowly Julia sits up fully, holding his jacket in her lap, feeling the fabrike between her fingers, then continuing, “You know, one of these days you're gonna have a cold. It's not summer anymore.” She felt terribly guilty when he so easily gave up his own comfort for her. He had given his jacket every night since she had mentioned it was cold, and she wished to never have mentioned it in the first place. The truth was she had been cold that night, but it was not the real reason. It was because she was terribly afraid of the dark, the strange sounds of the forest that she never seemed to get used to. She offered his jacket back and he retrieved it. He said nothing, and she thought maybe he wouldn't until he did -with a soft tone she wasn't sure she had heard him use before.

“Ain’t no big deal. And besides, can't sleep hearing you chattering your teeth all night.”

Julia felt her face heat up, she knew she must be blushing. Just as she was about to argue against it, that she was fine, admit what she should have told him that night . Daryl stood to full height, offering his hand and urged, “come on.”

Julia looked confused but took it either way, he grabbed his weapon off the forest floor. She tilted her head, staring. She had asked him to teach her as he had been her only source of socialization and she was determined to prove herself, rather than doing nothing. Daryl put the swing strap over his shoulder, and he began and said.

“I think today is a good day for you too- Julia cut him off, stepping closer, with a smile lighting up her face, “You're gonna teach me how to choot?” She said, maybe sounding a bit too much like a child.

He stared and felt that same feeling in his chest, fuzzy and warm, then he answered simply, “Something like that,” -a pause…then he demanded, becoming serious, “And no wondering of.” Julia rolled her eyes, humoredly, “Yes Mr.Dixon.”

“Julia, I mean it.”

“I’ll do whatever you say, Daryl.”

Daryl stared for a moment a little taken back by her genuine honesty. He didn't know what to say to that. There was a truth in her russet brown eyes, round and sincere. Daryl clears his throat, urging her forward.

…

He had never seen her show such interest before and he could tell she was serious about learning. He wanted to make it right this time, teaching her how to use his crossbow. Everything was calm and peaceful as Daryl walked close behind watching her back as she scanned their surroundings for anything out of place, but it was more difficult than she thought. And she wondered how on earth he could hold such a thing and make it look so easy, like it wasn't heavy. He must've had a great deal of strength, not to mention his perfect aim. Holding it up against her cheek trying out the scope she asked.

“Are we close?”

"Almost done.” He answered like he knew exactly what they were looking for, Julia asked again, still looking through the scope, “How do you know?”

“The signs are all there. Just got to know how to read’em.”

And she did so, slowly prosiding onwards. But it was all so difficult in her head, she didn't see any signs nor did she know if she saw any she knew how to read them like he did. She prompted him again, “What are we tracking?”

“You tell me.” Daryl vaguely offered. Julia turned to him with a slight frustrated frown. Daryl shrugged, “You’re the one who wanted to learn.” Her gaze travels along the forest floor.

“Well, something came through here. The pattern is all zig-zaggy.” She stated, deep in thought, she clearly had paid attention to what he had said a moment ago. And then it all made sense, “It’s a walker.” She confirmed, clearly happy with her accomplishment.

“Maybe a drunk.” Daryl said, and she knew he was testing her. She smiled back at him before proceeding onwards as she became a little bit cocky, “I’m getting good at this. Pretty soon I won’t need you at all.”

Daryl nods to himself as a subtle smile plaid on his lips, he almost chuckled at her sudan confidence. He kept her going and ordered, “Yeah, keep on tracking.”

Daryl of course was aware of the tracks, but it was about her finding it by herself in order to learn, and she did. He felt a sense of pride in that, teching her something he knew.

The trail led them upon a clearing. A lone walker stands on its knees, turned with its back, festing on something in its hands. Julia stands in front of Daryl staring for a moment before she turns her head and states, whispering, “It’s got a gun.”

Daryl nods and gives her a go ahead. She takes a nervous breath as she steadys the crossbow against her cheek and begins with careful steps, approaching. Daryl stayed back, his eyes never leaving her. He had seen her kill a walker before so he lets her handle this one on her own.

Even though she was scared she was determined enough to not let her fears controle her. And she was desperate to prove herself that she could hold her own. Every step was carefully put in front of the other, like Daryl did. Just a little bit further and she would be in the right distance to fire. One last breath and she stepped down. But to her surprise her foot gets caught in an animal trap and twists in a natural way. Her leg gives out and she falls to the ground, a pained sound leaves her lips. The commotion alerts the walker, it starts to growl, dropping the dead animal to the ground and begins to head her way. Pure horror rises in the pit of her stomach as she desperately tries to aim from the ground. The weapon fired, and she watched as her shot missed, only making it stumble back a bit and it kept on coming her way.

Daryl sprinted straight towards her. He snatched the crossbow from her hands, hitting the walker with the momentum of his speed. He hurried towards her, sliding on the leaf covered ground and kneeled, grabbing her skirt and pulling it up to reveal her foot underneath, then ripped the animal trap from her foot like it was nothing, throwing it out of sight.

His voice was laced with concern as he asked out of breath, “Can you move it?” He studied her face, lifting her foot by the heel examining the sole. Julia inhaled unevenly, a clear response from the pain. She managed to croak out a shaky,“Yeah.” And the pain in her voice and her trembling lips carved a new fissure in his heart.

Daryl carefully lowered her foot back on the ground and stood fully. Julia looked up at him and he told her, “Hold on.” She watched him walk towards the dead walker, pulling the bolt she had missed when firing from its cheek, then grabbed the gun from its side holstering it in the small of his back. Before approaching her he grabbed the crossbow off the ground. Julia quickly grabbed the edges of the skirt, tugging it downward. She managed to stand on her own even though she could see Daryl tense of her doing so when she lost her balance for a moment. He steadied her with his arm around her waist, pressing her against his side. Her arm was over his shoulder, her hand gripping the fabrike there, like she had dune in the night. And she weld to control tears from forming, screwing her eyes shut with the tension of the pain, but the gentle feeling of his arm around her, holding her there tightly forced them to flutter open and she found the strength to ask, “Can I have the gun?” Daryl urged her onwards and gave her a firm “No.” And she knew there was no use in arguing.

Eventually they exit the forest, coming upon a graveyard and a white memorial house further ahead. She limped alongside him as his strength kept her upright, though gravity seemed to be working against her. Her feet were tired, soar, and stinging with cuts from the animal trap. Just for one moment she wished to stop, to catch her breath and to rest. "Can we…Can we hold up a sec?” Julia said and reached for her foot as his hand gently left her side and he asked, "You all right?”

“I Just need to sit down.” Julia reassured, rotating it carefully and put most of her weight on the opposite foot, clearly avoiding the pain. Daryl looked ahead and breathed, “All right. Hold up.” And begins putting the crossbow over his shoulders, settling it infront on his chest, adjusting it a bit. Julia blinked at him perplexed and stepped back when he suddenly got closer, his back facing her as he began to bend his knees, hunching forward with his arms hanging loosely to his sides, and he ordered, “Hope on.”

It surprised her, he had never offered such a thing before. The sudden change of character made her think he had to be joking, “Are you serious?” She questions. Daryl looked over his shoulder, “Yeah. This is a serious piggyback. Jump up.” Julia grabbed his shoulders for leverage and jumped up with her arms over his shoulders.

“You're heavier than you look.” He joked straightening up and adjusted her further up his back with his arms underneath her legs and began their walk through the graveyard.

"Maybe there are people there.” Julia states, ever the optimist. “Yeah, if there are, I’ll handle them.”

“There are still good people, Daryl.” But Daryl found it difficult to believe in such filosofie, “I don’t think the good ones survive.”

They encountered a gravestone with the words beloved father. Julia stood before it with a sad expression on her face. Daryl places flowers in response and returns to her side. Her soft features clashed with the sorefull expression and he wondered what her quiet thoughts were about and If what he had said contributed to the sadness there. He blinked in surprise as her soft fingers gently intertwined with his and he glanced down to look at her, his stomach twirls, but she continued to stare ahead..Her expression telling him she was far away.

Everything she's experienced hasn't just gone away, even when she acted as if it had, always being positive and hopeful. Time doesn't really heal anything and pain doesn't simply disappear, it fades. And in that moment she needed him...to hold him close. It felt so..human to stand beside her and to feel the touch of her hand. He had never done that before, never been the type to hold someone. And he took notice he did not tense like in those moments when she had pushed herself close to him in the night. It was oddly comfortable, even when she squeezed his hand and leaned against him he didn’t push her away.

A few moments later they headed towards the funeral home.

Daryl continued carrying Julia until they approached the front door of the building. He cracks the door open then makes a few loud sounds that surely would alert any walkers in the home. “Give it a minute,” he tells her. But it was quiet, oddly quiet. Daryl enters the entryway and gives the nearby rooms a quick look. Julia limped after, on guard with her knife in her hand. She took notice of the clean smell and the neat state of the house that Daryl clearly seemed to find strange.

“It’s so clean.” Julia declared. “Yeah.” Daryl answered. “Someone’s been tending to it. May still be around.”

Right. That made sense.

Daryl moves further into a large room, Julia follows. They discover A dead man in a casket. The man didn't look rotten and decayed like walkers did, he appeared natural, peacefully lying in a suit. It felt as if they had walked in on a public viewing. She supposed that would make sense as it was a funeral hom after all. The room was beautifully arranged, decorated with big bouquets of flowers on each side of the casket. They were dry now but she imagined it had to look even more beautiful before. Chairs were placed before the man in the middle of the room for family and friends to say their last goodbyes and an old piano facing the window. She didn't feel disturbed by the sight, she had attended one before. So it didn't surprise her when Daryl inspected the man's face notesting something odd she supposed, as he drags his fingers across the man's face revealing the cosmetic work done.

Daryl thought it was odd as he felt the cosmetic between his fingers then looked at Julia. Why did someone take their time doing this to a walker he would never get his head round. To be honest it creeped him out.

They continued down a set of stairs leading to a white room. It smells of chemicals,.the ones used for disinfecting and it was noticeably colder than upstairs. On two embalming tables lay 2 more desiset men dressed in suits. One looked like a walker with its gray skin and the other looked more like the man upstairs. Julia carefully takes her last steps down, a bit slower due to her injury. Daryl opens the carbonets in a surge for medical supplies clearing his throat, a habit he did before speaking.

“Let's get that ankle wrapped.” Julia didn't answer. She quietly admired the cosmetic art the unknown person had dun. They had even taken the time to make the hands look normal and comed the man's hair. Only a good person would do such a thing.

Ripping the bandaid package with his teeth Daryl glanced at her and said humoredly, “Looks like somebody ran out of dolls to dress up.” Julia wipes her head towards him, eyebrows furrowing. “It’s beautiful.” She states softly. Daryl diverts his eyes looking down as if searching for that beauty she seemed to admire. Julia continued to be ever so thoughtful in her ways of speaking.

“Whoever did this cared. They wanted these people to get a funeral. They remembered these things were people. Before all this. They didn’t let it change them in the end.” Her gaze shifts to him from where she had looked down upon the man on the embalming table. “Don’t you think that’s beautiful?” His eyes met hers from where he was leaning against the wall and he couldn't find the right words to answer. He found it difficult to see the beauty she saw. Perhaps because he didn't fully understand it, not in the way she did at least. But Daryl did think something was beautiful, and it was not the dead men lying on the tables.

Daryl escapes the question completely and instead urges her back towards the sink, gently. Daryl was oddly careful with his touch as he rapped her foot. She looked down from where she stood leaning back against the sink. She could tell he knew what he was doing and she wondered if he realized how much he's changed in these past 2 weeks. If he recognized those small changes as she had? It wasn't dramatic, personality altering changes per say, but he was softer and more talkative which pleased her.

Continuing they explore the kitchen.

Julia checks the fridge, “Dang,” she sighed, “You find anything?”

Daryl checks the wall cupboards, opening them one after the other, finding nothing until then he comes across something. Julia exclaimed in surprise, standing by his side. A large cache filled with food is in front of them.

“Peanut butter and jelly, diet soda and pig’s feet. That’s a white trash brunch right there,” Daryl said humorously, grabbing a jar off the top shelf. “It all looks good to me,” Julia commented, grabbing a couple of items, clearly hungry.

Inspecting the jar in his hand he noticed it looked like it just came out of the store and so did everything else. He came to realize and told her, “No, hold up.” And Julia wipes her head looking at him. “Ain’t a speck of dust on this.” He states. “So?” Julia prompts. “That means somebody just put it here. This is someone's stash. Maybe they’re still alive.”

Right, she should have thought of that.

He spoke with a voice of coming to a conclusion, and he told her with a new sense of thoughtfulness, “All right, we’ll take some of it and we’ll leave the rest, all right?” And that was different. Julia smiled brightly at him, “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” Daryl questions. Julia holds their eye contact repeating herself from before. “It's like I said. There are still good people.” Daryl reaches two fingers into his jar, scooping out jelly, shoving it directly into his mouth, humming as if it was delicious . “It’s gross,” Julia scolds, heading towards the kitchen table with her peanut butter. Daryl likes the edge of the jar and warns playfully with jelly still in his mouth, “Hey, those pigs feet are mine.”

Julia smiled to herself. He could be funny sometimes.

…

No matter how much Julia insisted she could help him get rid of the walkers, he made her not lift a finger, ‘due to her injury, he had told her.

He could be so stubborn sometimes.

While Daryl was outside setting up security tripwires, Julia made the room cozy. The room with the casket, with candles lit on top of the piano and more across the room. It had been a while since she played. She never learned to read music notes but she could play by heart, finding melodies with her fingers while she hums softly, remembering the words to a song she used to sing.

Closing the front door Daryl immediately heard a soft voice flowing through the home. He stepped towards the entrance of the room, seeing Julia playing the piano with her back facing him, the only light was from the candles, painting the room in a warm glow. He did not enter but instead leaned against the door frame and just watched and listened. It reminded him of those early mornings, when Julia did her chores and he would just take a moment to listen, just like he did now. He never knew she could play, it was nice. When he thought about it she had not sung sins the prison. It relieved him, he couldn't stand the thought of her being sad and she had been so quiet this morning. Daryl makes his presence known clearing his throat, Julia abrupts her song turning to him.

“The place is nailed up tight.” He said and began walking fully into the room, awkwardly. He hoped not she knew how long he had been standing there in the doorway. “The only way in is through the front door.” He told her and Julia nodded, following him with her gaze as he made his way to the empty casket and to her surprise decided to lie down in it, and she asked “What are you doing?”

“This is the comfiest bed I’ve had in years.” He remarked with an arm curled beneath his head. Julia turned fully towards him, still sitting. “Really?” she questioned. “ I ain’t kidding.” He insists.

Julia lowered her gaze, becoming quiet again. Daryl stared at her, “Way don’t you go ahead and play some more? Keep singing.” Julia inhaled, lifting her gaze, “I don’t wanna annoy you.”

She rarely sang in front of others, It made her feel vulnerable in a way. She didn't like to feel judged or the feeling of people's eyes on her, it was naked in a way. But Daryl was different from others she had met.

Her response surprised him though he didn't show it as he instead urged, “There ain’t no jukebox, so…

Julia gave him a shy smile and began to sing playing the same song again. Her voice velvet smooth and angelic, transporting him to a world of peace above the clouds. And he wondered why someone with a voice like hers would hide such a gift. Daryl studied her as she closed her eyes. It was from her heart he could tell. Every word meant something. And when she sang…

I could hold you for a million years

To make you feel my love

I know you haven't made your mind up yet

But I will never do you wrong

I've known it from the moment that we met

No doubt in my mind where you belong…

It felt as if the song was meant for him. But surely not? It was just a song after all.

Her voice carried such warmth and sounded so sweet a sense of calm washed over him, tucking him in. Daryl almost felt guilty he didn't miss them as much being with her. And before he knew it, he had drifted away into a deep sleep he had not had for a long time.

Julia opened her eyes as she had finished the song. But to her surprise Daryl had fallen asleep. She had never seen his sleeping face before. His troubled frown had evened out, though the lines in his face were still visebull. And she wondered how old he was as she knew there had to be an age difference there. There was no denying she found him handsome with his ruffe complexion and the dark hair framing his face, but that didn’t mean she had romantic feelings towards him. She liked to think of him as a friend and that it was mutual, that she wasn't just some girl he felt an obligation to care for, simply because of the fall of the prison.

Julia moved to a nearby sofa, it looked to be for decoration, but she laid down on it -lying on her side and shutte her eyes.

They rest for the night.

…

Morning came, bright light seeping through the covered windows.

Daryl sat up fully looking to where Julia had played the piano, the candles had burned aout, no longer offering its warm glow. He must have fallen asleep when she had played, the bed and her playing the piano had all been so soothing. Daryl scanned the rome still sitting in the casket and he grew worried when he did not see her, but then there she was -soundly sleeping on the sofa to his side. She laid curled into herself, facing his way with one arm hanging out and the other beneath the cheek. Even though he knew she was a heavy sleeper he jumped down carefully in case he would wake her. His gaze studied the scar on her wrist and the bruse faintly visible now, remembering all she told him about being an emunine, the map to the facility she so badly wanted to go to. And he didn't know, he really didn't know.

He decided he would let her sleep in a bit more, she needed the rest with her injury, he takes his crossbow and heads to the kitchen.

Her eyes fluttered open as a gentle hand slid along her arm. Julia looks up at the figure, rubbing her eyes past the sleep, she sat up fully, legs off the sofa. Daryl’s deep voice spoke to her. “It's morning.”

Julia hummed in acknowledgement then tilted her head up to meet his gaze. He looked as if he'd been up for a while and she felt bad she always seemed to be the one that woke last. He then took her arm, tugging her up to stand, “com’on.” He urged. Julia blinked past the rest of the sleep but she clearly could tell there was this excitement in his voice and the way he seemed eager.

“I wanna show you something.” And there it was and it immediately got her attention. “Show me what?” She asked. Daryl began to leave the room, Julia took the hint to follow as she heard him say, “You’ll see.”

Julia walked with the best of her ability but due to her ankle injury was not fast enuff to catch up to his strides. Daryl looked past his shoulder, “Hurry up!” Julia kept on halting behind him, “Going as fast as I can!”

Daryl suddenly turned, approaching her, “Forget that,” he said and before she knew it she was in his arms, carrying her like a bride. She squeals of the action. Her arms found its way around his neck, he kicked the door open and he carried her into the kitchen. A smile lit up her face as she was pleasantly surprised by a set up meal. Carefully he pleased her on the chair opposite of him. He breathed, “Here you go.” Then settled himself down, “All right. Let's eat.” He said and they began to dig in.

Daryl flinched at the sound of his traps getting triggered outside. Julia looks worriedly at him and begins to stand but gets turned down as he orders “Stay.” And he hurries off taking his crossbow to check on the disturbance. Cracking the door open Daryl is surprised to see a one-eyed cat meowing on the front porch. “It’s just a damn cat!” He tried to pet it but the cat scurried away.

The Moment Julia heard him say to the word cat she couldn't help but to hurry towards the hallway only to be met with Daryl closing the door.

“It wouldn’t come in?” Julia asked.

Daryl stepped closer standing an arm length apart and scolded, “I told you to stay back.” Julia smiled, "Yeah, butt, Daryl, you said it was a cat.” Daryl took her by the shoulder, speaking softly “Maybe he’ll come back around. Come on.” And he beaconed her around back to the kitchen.

…

Julia liked the place, it was nice and it had brought them closer. She hoped the cat would visit them once more, but she also knew Daryl would probably make them leave soon. When the prison went down her diary was the only thing she had left and she thought it would be nice of them to leave something for the occupant of the house.

Julia looked to Daryl beside her, he was spooning some jelly in his mouth while she opened her diary on the kitchen table, candles were lit across the room creating that same cozy feeling when she had played the piano.

“I’m gonna leave a thank-you note.” Julia told him. Daryl looked at her beginning to write and he asked, “Why?”

Julia shifts her gaze, Daryl looks back then explains as she continues to write, “For when they come back. If they come back. Even if they’re not coming back, I still want to say thanks.”

Daryl thought for a moment….And then..

“Maybe you don’t have to leave that.” Julia looked at him, listening. “Maybe we stick around here for a while. They come back, we’ll just make it work. They may be nuts, but maybe it’ll be all right.”

He gave her a little smile, Julia returned it with a grin and said, “So you do think there are still good people around.” Daryl shrugs his shoulders, suddenly finding the jelly very interesting. Her mouth continued to turn upward and she looked at him and said, “What changed your mind?” He shifted his gaze back and forth between her and the jar in his hand, swallowing hard as his defense began to crumble and could feel how his heart started to beat.

“You know.” Daryl replied, eyes averting. A light blush creeps up his cheeks and he was grateful for the darkness and the candlelight hiding that burning feeling in his chest. Her smile widens, “What?” Julia giggeld. And without her knowing her smile stole all his words away. Daryl could only stare, a little taken back by his own thoughts; he had never felt like this before. His gaze dropped from her shyly then returned, answering in an incoherently grunt, shrugging his shoulders.

"Don't…" -Julia copied him and encouraged softly, “What changed your mind?” Her lovely brown eyes stared into his blue ones, round and sincere waiting for his answer. Julia had noticed his lack of words seemed to be a lack of skill finding the correct ones.

Never before had Daryl wanted to say so much, but couldn't utter a single word; felt so much but stayed so silent. A million feelings warmed his heart that he could not express with words, because it was deeper than that. Like there was this disconnect between the feeling and his mouth and all he could do was stare. He studied her in the dim light, as if he could find his words in her eyes. But it seemed he never could as his eyes spoke without saying a single word.

YOU

And there was silence. A realization fleeting between them.

And when he gazed deeply into her eyes, she knew. It was her, something within her had somehow made him believe good people did still exist. Julia’s smile faltered, taken back a bit. She couldn't possibly fantum the idea that she had changed something within him, he who clearly had told her “I don’t believe the good ones survive.”

Her gaze continued to search his, blinking a couple of times before breathing out a quiet, “Oh.”

The firelight ghosts across his face and he couldn't stop from continuing to stare. Her face was gentle and inviting despite being in shock, there was softness in her eyes -irises blown wide, twinkling into his, lips were parted and plump from the little oh that had past her lips, a pleasing shade of deep rose from what he could tell, subtle freckles painted her cheekbones, he haven't notest those before. And that lovely hair framing her face, with locks that glowed deep brown in the warm light. In conclusion -she was in his eyes...

The snap back to reality when tripwiers outside goes off for the second time today. Neither of them flinched as they knew it to be the little friend from before. Daryl finishes his spoonful of jelly then says jokingly, “I’m gonna give that cat one more chance.” And goes to investigate.

Without checking, expecting the cat he opens the door. But unfortunately their moment must have slowed his reflexes and dulled his edge as he is met with a horde of walkers trying to get into the house. Immediately he tries to chute the dore, braising it with his back shouting her name. Julia hurried and threw his crossbow from a distance, retrieving it he ordered her to run ahead. The horde storms into the house, Daryl fiers one shot, but there are too many of them. He tells her to escape through one of the windows as he distracts them, she is hesitant for just a moment, she doesn't want to leave him she tells him as they slowly lose sight of one another. But she relents when he assured her that he will met her by the road.

The Walkers followed Daryl down the stairs into the embalming room. He shoots another walker then grabs a few sharp tools and uses one of the embalming tables like a barrier between him and the walkers corning him against the wall. He takes out one after the other, stabbing them. He dukes and crowles under their legs to hide behind the other table, stabbing some more before he pushes the table one last time creating enough space to escape up the stairs unscathed. He hurries around the house and runs across the graveyard, up the road he is shocked to discover the backpack lying on the ground. But he had come moments too late. Wheels squeaked, a black car with a white cross drove away. Immediately Daryl runs after realizing Julia had just been kidnapped. He tries to follow but on foot can't keep up, shouting her name again and again while his lungs burn like acrid smoke.

Daryl never stopped running that night, he just kept on going and going then going some more, until morning came when he reached an intersection.

He fell to his knees, the pure exertion numbing his body. He felt a terrible pain inside his chest, he felt sick, wanted to throw up, and could hardly process what just had happened. He could hardly read it as being real to him. It was like a blizzard setting into his joints, his brain, everything.

Everything was gone and Daryl was alone.

Pt.4

#apocalypse #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #fanfics #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon #beth x daryl

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frangipanilove · 9 days

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Fighting Fire With Fire Part 2;

"The Duality Of Fire"

(read part one and part three here)

During the early stages of the outbreak, the military used napalm in an attempt to control the spread of the virus. Through flashbacks and through FTWD, we saw how Operation Cobalt completely failed to contain the virus, while simultanously contributing to the total breakdown of societal structures. Metropolitan areas on the North American continent were indiscriminately bombed, making no differentiation between the living residing there, and the undead. We also saw, for instance in Shane's flashback to when Rick was in the hospital, how federal forces went in and killed any remaining survivers.

This is the duality of fire. It can be used for total obliteration, but it can also facilitate new life, as we saw in TOWL 1x1 Days, when Rick told the story of how his father burned down the farm, and how it flourished the next year.

During Rick's echelon briefing, we see the duality of the "fire" symbolism illustrated. Both Rick and Major General Beale talk about how you sometimes "have to burn things down in order to bring things back":

Both recognize the tremendous power of the fire symbolism, but they use the metaphor differently. Where Rick is ultimately interested in a good outcome as in facilitating new life, thriving crops and a sustainable future, Beale is literally talking about burning down cities, along with the people living in them.

In flashbacks seen during Major General Beale's Echelon briefing, we witness how the military used napalm on Atlanta and LA.

Napalm is, simply put, a fire bomb made from petrochemocals.

Let's explore the "fire = fuel" angle for a minute.

The opening minutes of 1x1 was our first introduction to the visuals and the symbolism of the show. We see Rick arrive at a gas station in search of fuel.

He only finds death and destruction, meaning that since the very first seconds of the show, the literal opening scene, we see gas, gas stations and fossil fuel surrounded by death symbolism. And, when we later learn that the military bombed the cities and killed countless civilians using napalm, we realise they used a firebomb made from petrochemicals.

The symbolism around gas stations as temples of doom continues, such as in 4x4 Indifference:

This sign quite literally labels the gas station as "hell". The people residing there had committed suicide. Keep this in mind, I'll return to it shortly!

The term "fighting fire with fire" was originally used to describe a technique of forest management, specifically in regards to how to manage wildfires, in which controlled fires were ignited in the path of a wildfire as a preventative measure:

"Fighting fire with fire" as an expression has also often been used to describe vaccines, due to the way it was discovered that exposure to pathogens in some cases could trigger the immune system to produce antibodies against said pathogens, thus resulting in immunity:

When first we met the character Dr. Edwin Jenner at the CDC in TWD 1x5 Wildfire, his name was a reference to Dr. Edward Jenner, an English physician widely known as the “father of immunology”, due to his role in developing the world's first vaccine, against smallpox, in 1798.

It is not a strecth to say that this foreshadows a potential vaccine in TWDU. The virus is called wildfire. Vaccines are often said to be "fighting fire with fire". We learned about the wildfire virus from a character named after the guy who developed the world's first vaccine.

In TOWL 1x2 Gone, we see Michonne involved in a situation that sheds light on how the "fighting fire with fire" symbolism is utilized by TPTB. We see her trying to get through an enormous walker horde, it's a virtual ocean of death:

She tries to distract the walkers by shooting a small missile into the horde, which then explodes. Fighting fire with fire.

Eventually, Nat shows up and helps by adding more explosive fireballs, and the "ocean of death" parts to reveal a way forward.

Fighting fire with fire:

This also provides an interesting example illustrating how fire bombs can be used responsibly, in contrast to the way napalm was used by the military, who indiscriminately bombed cities, killing innocent civilians in metropolitan areas by incinerating them.

It shows that when the people, who have harnessed the tremendous power of fire, have the right intentions, it can be used for good. It shows the duality of fire, and it illustrates the duality of pharmakon, a poison and a cure.

Fighting fire with fire.

This guy stands out from the crowd, and I believe he tells us something about what the wildfire virus in TWDU in reality is a metaphor for:

He's a callback to Rick, back in TWD 1x1 Days Gone Bye:

He beautifully illustrates the ominous nature of the fire symbolism, here represented by fossil fuels, or simply gasoline. We saw it herald death and dystopian hellscape at the gas station in 1x1, we saw it at the gas station in 4x4 Indifference, which was literally named "Hell", we saw it when napalm made from petrochemicals was used indiscriminately to destroy metropolitan areas on the North American continent and massacre anyone in proximity, infected or not.

And we see it again here.

The gas man is Mr. Wildfire Virus incarnate, a posterboy for death and necrotic life, a metaphor for "the old ways". He represents the disease, the plague, the extinction event...

He represents "the end" of humanity!

I don't think it's a stretch to say that the wildfire virus and the walkers in TWDU are metaphors for carbon emissions, the fossil fuel industry and the rapidly escalating threath of climate change to humanity. That's always been my interpretation, and that's solidified after seeing the gas man.

An interesting detail is how the gas man is shown here with gold teeth, as though he's illustrating the incredible wealth accumulated by the fossil fuel industry at the expense of the equilibrium of the ecology of the planet.

Seeing a gas man as the front figure and team captain of an enormous horde of the undead, an insurmountable obstacle, an ocean of death... it's not subtle.

A gas station innundated in death symbolism was the very first thing we, the audience, saw of TWDU, it was literally in the opening scene of 1x1.

And the gas man were among the last things we saw in what's so far one of the last episodes of the last spin off. But a few episodes later, we did see a glimmer of hope, and a potential way out of the mess...

The gas man functions as the face of the threat to humanity in TWDU, and was, in my opinion, inserted as a counter point to what we saw few episodes later, the ethanol as a representation of a "cure", an "antidote" in the back Richonne's escape car.

An electric/bio-ethanol hybrid car, no less...

Again, not subtle...

Bio-ethanol, a sustainable, renewable source of energy, is portrayed as a foreshadow of a sustainable future, in which humanity recovers and thrives.

A green(e) future?

I wrote about how they in FTWD season 4, and in particular 4x16, explored the "ethanol = cure" theme in a post the other week, read more about it here.

Remember how we in TWD season 9, saw the production of bio-ethanol as an alternative source of fuel. We saw how crucial it was, in that Maggie was even seen trading produce for bio-ethanol.

This is a theme TPTB also explored in TWD World Beyond, where especially Elton was concerned about the sixth extinction event, the Holocene extinction.

The kids in TWDWB called themselves "the Endlings", seeming to have accepted that they were among the last survivers of a humanity that was on a direct path to self destruction. Here's from an article in Comicbook.com:

"'Wind always wins,'" Elton tells Hope, borrowing a phrase from his mother who died at the onset of the apocalypse ten years earlier. "Something my mom said about nature deciding who lives and who dies. Turns out she was right."

He explains humans are "at the conclusion of the Holocene extinction," the sixth extinction event on the planet following the Late Ordovician mass extinction, the Late Devonian extinction, the End-Permian extinction, the Triassic-Jurassic extinction event, and the Cretaceous-Paleogene extinction event.

"We were already killing ourselves directly and indirectly, but nature made a shortcut," Elton tells Hope. "It took the dinosaurs possibly 60,000 years to die after 240 million of living, so following that ratio, given the human race's 600,000 and factoring in other miscellaneous variables, I say we have about 15 years until we're gone."

Elton was referring to the walkers when he talked about the threath to humanity, however, if the walkers are a metaphor for climate change, Elton's predictions of 15 years until we're extinct are sobering...

In TWOL 1x6, Major General Beale estimated non-necrotic, meaning human, life has 14 years left.

In real life, the doomsday clock is currently at 90 seconds to midnight (x)...

...we're nowhere near reaching the 2 degrees Celcius target...

...and 2023 was the hottest year on record.

We're not doing great.

TPTB seem to be well aware, because...

...here we see how an electric/bio-ethanol hybrid car represent the "antidote", the future, the "escape" from the extinction event.

Richonne's yellow stick shift electric/bio-ethanol hybrid car represents a potential way out of the imminent Holocene extinction. It represents an "escape" from the sixth mass extinction event, much in the same way a shift away from carbon emitting fossil fuels, to sustainable, renewable sources of energy represents the "cure" against climate change in real life.

But back to the narrative of the show. The accumulation of walkers represent a real threath to humanity, as Major General Beale correctly stated. What could the expression "fighting fire with fire", or "pharmakon", tell us about a potential "cure"? What could the "antidote" be, in the canon of the show?

During Rick's echelon briefing, Major General Beale raised a few issues that would be of legitimate concern, even if most of the rest he said were the ramblings of an authoritarian genocidal madman. He mentioned hordes of up to a million walkers, and he referenced studies suggesting non-necrotic life, meaning humans, could have as little as 14 years left before the the dead would outcompete the living. Millions of walking corpses, spreading diseases, polluting the soil, contaminating fresh water sources.

Those are legitimate concerns and would have to be dealth with. Fire could play a literal role.

Glenn told us in season one. "We bury the ones we love and burn the rest". From an infection contagion prevention point of view, it makes sense to use fire to destruct the wildfire virus. Fighting fire with fire. However, there must be some way to contain the virus while still preserving one's own hummanity. "We bury the ones we love and burn the rest". Unlike what happened during the mass murders of Operation Cobalt during the initial stages of the outbreak.

Again, fire, when used responsibly, could play a role in neutralizing the treath of the plague. It's pharmakon, a poison and a cure.

Fighting fire with fire.

And using fire as a contagion preventation measure was already built into the infrastructure at the CDC. We first saw it in 1x5 Wildfire, when Dr. Jenner accidently knocked over a vial containing samples from Test Subject 19, his late wife, upon which the lab went into full decontamination mode and erased any remaining trace of the pathogen in a great ball of fire.

Later, when the doomsday clock at the CDC reached zero, we watched the entire CDC explode, effectively destructing everything inside, including test samples containing wildfire as well as any other pathogen they might have kept in there.

We also saw it on Hershel's farm in season 2, when the barn where he had kept the reanimated corpses of his loved ones while awaiting a cure, caught on fire. Although, that was more of a display of the symbolism involved rather than a depiction of how to scientifically contain a virus:

We've also seen it countless other times. Fire symbolism has been prevalent on the show since the very beinning, and there's a reason for that. It's because it represents pharmakon, a poison and a cure!

My hypothesis is that "fire" could play a literal role in the resolution of the zombie apocalypse. I also believe that it's likely the term "fighting fire with fire", or "pharmakon", could be meant to be interpreted figuratively, as in the develepment of some kind of cure/vaccine/treatment/immunity.

And like I explained in this post from a few days ago, connections to Beth is found everywhere in the symbolism surrounding these themes.

I mentioned her association with ethanol (as in moonshine = alcohol). I discussed the precedence set by Alicia from FTWD in regards to the bite/cure theory.

And finally, I've spent years now, talking about the Sirius symbolism that Beth has been absolutely immersed in. The word "Sirius" comes from Greek Seirios, which means "glowing", "scorching", it refers to Sirius the Dog Star, and it's associated with the scorching hot "dog days of summer".

"Sirius" symbolism IS "fire" symbolism, they're literally the same, and it ultimately means "return/resurrection/rebirth/reunion", as a reference to how Sirius the Dog Star periodically disappears from the night sky, only to return one morning, right before dawn.

I've talked about how Beth is deeply connected to the symbolism we see around Rick, I've talked about how they so often completely mirror each other and the resurrection symbolism around Rick is identical to the resurrection symbolism around Beth.

If "fire" is a part of the "cure" on the show, the fire symbolism includes resurrection symbolism, which we've seen countless exemples of around Rick and Beth.

And remember, the future is green(e)!

#team delusional #bethyl #daryl dixon #beth greene #team defiance #the walking dead #beth x daryl #twd #daryl x beth #twd towl #twd world beyond

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