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#daryl x oc
ysoandi · 1 year
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*playing twister*
Rick: Right hand red.
Daryl: *ends up on top of Y/N*
Y/N: You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?
Rick: I stopped spinning like 15 minutes ago. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't notice.
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yoofte · 5 months
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Why would I be mad?
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Just a few seconds ago, he was leaving wet kisses down her neck and getting soft moans in return, but when his hands reached the hem of her underwear, she pushed him away. That didn’t hurt, it only surprised him. At first he thought she was just playing, so he tried again. He sat her on the counter, and his hand traveled from her neck only lower and lower.
"D-Daryl, wait, I…"
He tried to kiss Y/N, but she backed away. That was something new. He took a step back. His gaze flickered between her eyes, trying to figure out what happened or, if worse, if he did something. She looked down, clearly ashamed of something.
"What’s wrong, Y/N?" Daryl ran the back of his finger against her left hand. "You need to tell me if I did something you didn’t like."
"It’s not like that, Daryl…"
Y/N bit her lip. How was she supposed to tell him? She didn't want to upset him because it wasn't his fault. He didn’t do anything… and yet. He was man after all… Blood rushed to her cheeks. She wasn’t sure how to say it.
"Can we… I’m just tried… I m-mean j-ust tonight… I promise I-I…"
"You don’t want to have sex?"
Her eyes widened, and she finally looked him in the eyes. Y/N couldn’t find her voice, so she only nodded.
"Okay."
"Okay? Y-you are not mad?"
"Why would I be mad?" he asked, surprised. Not understanding why there would be a reason for him to be upset about this? He could wait until she was ready again. He didn't ask question why or what was the reason. Instead, he took her hand again and simply asked: "Do you want to go for a walk instead? The sky is clear tonight, we can watch stars."
~
[request/ask box] [masterlist]
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harringtonstudios · 1 year
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walkman.
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plot: you have a special way of scavenging that gets on Daryl’s nerves.
note: hi! fluff piece with a habit that i would 100% have if i was in TWD universe. send in any prompts <3
word count: 3.1K
divider credit: @firefly-graphics​
After a couple of days of wandering with you on the hot summer roads of Georgia, Daryl had discovered one very important thing. Scavenging was the worst job anyone could ever give to you. Most of the others were efficient with how they scoured houses, moved through rooms with intent, carefully picking up things that were necessary for the group. They were beneficial, and every time they went out Daryl could bet that at least one of them would come back with something that could be used. 
You, on the other hand, were a hurricane let loose in an enclosed space. Rumbling through other’s houses always made you curious, with your nosey nature leading to poking through people’s underwear drawers, lifting up mattresses, getting on floors to look under furniture. You had even started turning around people’s framed artwork, fingers poking at the frames to see if anything had been hidden inside in between the pictures and the metal. 
You had found things of course, but they would always be miscellaneous objects that had no role in the survival of the large group that was still trekking around in the woods, looking for a permanent home. The smaller items all lived in your bag, jostling around when you walked. A new red Tom Ford lipstick that was thrown under a couch, a lighter with a dog printed on it that you found in someone’s bathtub, a $2 bill that was tucked into a photo frame of someone’s graduation picture. 
Daryl hated everything about your little routine. He’d verbalized it multiple times to anyone who’d listen, ranting that you were distracting during a run, would create noise for walkers, were derailing the others who were scavenging with you. At first, you’d been hurt by his words. He wasn’t a man to hide behind other people, always up front with you when you asked for his thoughts on a situation, but for some reason, he wouldn’t ever come clean and tell you about his obvious disdain for your behavior. 
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Glenn was the first one to tell you about Daryl’s tirades, after you found a particularly burnt teddy bear stuffed under a kid’s mattress. You had put the bear back, tucked the sheets on the bed and then promptly walked out of the house, sitting on the porch playing with the wooden grain of the planks as everyone carried out the scavenging. Andrea had spotted you and tried to strike up a conversation, but you were ashamed and hurt, just asking her to leave you alone. 
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Rick had been the second person to sell out Daryl. You had become much more reserved for the past two runs the group had done, just walking in and out of the rooms before letting others sort through people’s items. He had noticed, of course, and pulled you aside into the kitchen while people rushed up and down the stairs. 
“You’re not tearing the house apart,” he had stated, a question echoed in his observation.
“Don’t wanna be a distraction,” you replied, hands going to play with the dusty countertops. 
“A distraction?” he said, before continuing, “Don’t listen to Daryl Y/N, we all like seeing you in your element.” He waved his hands around, gesturing at the house.
“You guys like seeing me root through people’s belongings?” you asked, ignoring the entire part of the conversation where Rick very clearly stated that Daryl was the only person voicing complaints. 
“We like when you find something unique, something special. Life doesn’t feel very human lately, it’s nice to see something that reminds me of the world before. Of just humanity,” he responded, with such a kind statement to describe your trashy need to search the houses thoroughly. 
“Okay. Will go back to it deputy,” you gave him a salute with your fingers before walking out of the kitchen. 
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Lori had been the last straw before you had confronted Daryl. Coincidentally, it had been the same day you had scavenged your most precious possessions. The group had moved further up in Georgia, heading north, crossing state boundaries at some point or another. Straying from the highway roads where hordes had started to gather, the woods seemed to be the best place to camp. 
You had stumbled upon a series of cottages, looking to be an old campground site while heading to pee. Everyone had gotten excited, with the small buildings looking like a spot to rest for a few days before heading on the rest of your aimless journeys. A few of the fighters had gone and cleared the place of walkers, with the rest of the group marveled at the fire pits and other amenities the campground held. 
Rick had suggested scavenging the place before settling down. With a few hours of daylight left, it would be easier to do now than later once the night hit. If there was an emergency later on and this area had to be abandoned, it would make more sense to take any supplies with you than regret it later on. 
A few people had grumbled about extra work, but you were a little too eager to get into the cottages. You had grown up camping and knew the best places to store secrets in cottages like these. There was bound to be some goodies, holed up in nooks and crannies that people wouldn’t think to check. The group reluctantly agreed, and you set off, walking to the last cottage on the strip. 
There was a big king bed as soon as you entered through the door, taking up most of the space in the living area. A ratty looking armchair was placed in the center near a window, with a rug haphazardly thrown against the wooden floors. The kitchen was bare, with nothing in cabinets, but you had crouched under the little sink area, proudly pulling out a few cans of dusty dog food that had been there. The bathroom seemed a lost cause, and once you had lifted the tank’s top to spot nothing but pipes, you happily moved to the main attractions. The mattress had a duffel bag stored under it, empty of its contents, flat against the bed frame. You had tossed it to the side, landing right next to your dog food. The chair had nothing to hide, a few coins stuffed under the cushion as if they’d just fallen there, out of the pockets of travelers. 
You sat on the floor then, moving the rug completely, noticing something off about the floor underneath it. There was a plank that was sticking out at an angle, and you quickly grabbed your knife, prying it open to find a jackpot of treasure. A CD player Walkman sat there, headphones still in good quality as you lifted it. It took all your strength right there to not start screaming out of pure joy. There were a couple of CDs in clear plastic cases littered around. You lifted and opened them, reading the Sharpie that someone had penned over the shiny surface. 
OUR SONGS!
SUMMER MIXXXX
I LOVE YOU BUT I'M NOT REALLY GOOD WITH WORDS 
The last one made you laugh, eyes wet as you trailed over the writing. Once you had lifted them all, you moved your hand around in the hole to see if you were missing anything. A felt box had blended into the darkness, and you pulled it out, definitely crying now. You opened it to see a ring, shiny and silver, clean and elegant. 
Someone had been planning to propose. Someone had left these precious gifts here, hid everything in a really good spot to make sure that they could surprise their partner. The love was so evident with the CDs, with playlists and a Walkman, and a ring that was so beautiful you couldn’t help but touch the gem. A tear fell onto the felt of the box, and you wiped your eyes before closing the box shut and holding it to your heart. 
You hadn’t ever had a real relationship before the apocalypse had started. You had been young, spending more of your time with fleeting boys, parties that lasted too long bleeding into early mornings, dates that ended with make out sessions but nothing much crazier than that. Things weren’t serious, you weren’t looking to be locked in, committed to someone. But now that life had chewed you up and spit you out within a matter of months, that’s all you would think about at night. Being in a relationship, having someone who so clearly loved you in the way that Rick loved Lori, where he would do anything to make sure she was safe, would run into dangerous situations to make sure she was protected. Someone who would just simply take care of you. 
Before your mind could spiral even further, the door creaked and you quickly dropped the ring box back into the hole. You weren’t going to take it, wanted to leave it there just in case. It felt like it belonged there. 
Lori walked in and looked at you on the floor, surrounded by CDs, headphones trailing from your lap to the floor. 
“Wow,” she said, eyebrows raising up and a hand coming to her mouth to hide her giggle.
“Hi,” you replied, quickly putting the plank back, and patting it down with the hilt of your knife. You grabbed the CDs, shoving them in your bag before wrapping the headphones around the Walkman and getting up to meet her by the door.
“I can’t believe you actually found something. Everyone said the place was pilgered, couldn’t even find any clothes,” she remarked, as you walked up to her.
“Found a couple things,” you smirked, turning around to grab the empty bag while holding up the cans of food. 
“You have a talent,” she laughed as you passed off the cans to her, and you smiled.
“Guess I’m going to have to make my rounds to those other cottages,” you replied.
“Uh yeah, seriously. It’s kinda incredible how you search. Don’t know why Daryl ever complains. I love seeing your little trinkets,” she divulged, hand turning the cottage doorknob. 
“Does Daryl complain to everyone?” you sighed, voice surprisingly tiny. 
She turned around, eyes squinting as she looked at your body language. You’d gone from standing tall and proud about your search to looking down at the ground, shoulders raised uncomfortably, with your hand grabbing the Walkman tightly. 
“He doesn’t really complain to us. Daryl’s loud, you know? And even louder when he’s mad about something. He never said anything to you?” she asked, voice suspicious.
“Nah, but I know he doesn’t like what I do. He thinks I’m wasting all our time or something,” you mumbled, mind flashing back to the conversations you’d had with Glenn and Rick.
She shook her head before saying, “I’m sorry hon. Maybe you can talk to him? If it bothers him, he should’ve told you directly.” 
You hummed in agreement before motioning towards the door, and the two of you left the cottage, joining the rest of the group by the middle of the campground. 
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There was a small fire going in one of the pits, with the daylight slipping out and the orange haze of the sunset. People were sitting on the floor around it, slightly on edge with the knowledge of knowing that people had been here before, had scavenged before your group had found the place and could easily return.
“Look what Y/N got!” Lori announced, holding up the four cans of dog food and the black bag.
Rick walked up to you and clapped you on the shoulder, “We should’ve sent you into every cottage. Our sneaky friend.”
You laughed at that before pulling out the Walkman from where it was hidden under your arm. 
“Got some entertainment too,” you revealed and Carl’s eyes shot up from the fire.
“Music?” he asked, and his eyes were shiny, excited and hopeful.
“So much music, Carlster. Me and you? We’re going to be dancing for hours,” you happily opened your bag and pulled out the CDs.
As soon as you looked up, Daryl’s eyes were on yours. He seemed to be staring you down, and with the fire burning, he looked more intimidating than usual. You held your ground, looking back at him, before you felt a tug on your shirt.
Carl was expectantly holding his hand out, standing in front of you. 
“Now hold on Carl, let Y/N enjoy her dinner first,” Rick stated while he gently moved the boy away. 
You took a deep breath and then walked over to Daryl, carefully sitting down next to him. The ground was littered with rocks and debris, and you brushed off your pants as you stretched your legs. He turned his head to look at you, before raising his mouth in a sneer. 
“So when’re you gonna go dancing?” he asked, sarcasm dripping in every word. It was as if he’d poured venom into one of his bows, aimed it directly at you, and then shot.
“You don’t have to be such a dick about everything, you know?” you responded, exasperated with his intense attitude whenever you were near him.
“I’m not a dick,” he mumbled and your brain was already itching to prove him wrong.
“You talk shit about me behind my back.” The retort was out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
“Says who,” he grumbled and you saw red.
“Daryl! You’re always going on about how terrible I am at runs and how I can’t scavenge. You tell everyone I’m a distraction! And you can’t even bring yourself to admit it when I ask you. You’re literally the grade-A definition of a dick.” 
“I never said you were bad at scavenging, just that you take too much time looking for shit no one uses or even cares about,” he explained while his hands fidgeted on his thighs.
“I care about it. Maybe that’s all that matters,” you stated, voice wavering.
He turned to look at you then. In the orange glow of the fire, he could see the tears that had welled up in your eyes, could notice the harsh way you were biting your lip to try and stop them from falling.
He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and you were clearly done with the conversation. Grabbing your newest possession, you put in one of the CDs, not even looking to see which one before hitting the play button. 
Smooth music filled your ears through the plastic earbuds. You couldn’t recognize the song, and it was a little overwhelming to hear so many instruments and noises at once after living mostly in silence and whispers since your group had hit the road. You listened through the entire song, leaning back and crossing your legs, letting yourself get lost in the music.
The second song was recognizable. A cheesy pop tune you had heard at many parties, filled with low tones and memorable lyrics. You’d sing it at the top of your lungs with arms around friends, danced to it alone in your room, even gone to school with it blasting in your mom’s car.
You smiled, playing through the memories in your head. There was a tap on your hand and you looked over at Daryl. 
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he said with gritted teeth, and even though the apology felt weird and forced out of his mouth, you acknowledged it with thanks.
Cautiously, you held out an earbud to him as your own version of an olive branch, a peace offering. Daryl had hurt you, but you knew that there was a reason he didn’t like your methods, knew that he was a man of the woods, of using his time wisely, of being precise and ready at any moment’s notice. This life was still new to you, and you wanted to cling on to anything that reminded you of your past, which included being as nosey as possible and hoarding little items that had no practical value. You could admit your faults, but you would also take pride in them. After all, you had found something truly special. Maybe Daryl just needed to try and appreciate the music too.
“Nah,” he waved your earbud away, just as the next song started playing up. It was all heavy metal, guitars blaring into your ear, even with the volume low.
“Oh c’mon, this song is perfect for you. My feelings would be totally unhurt if you just listened,” you smiled, gesturing again with the headphone. 
He squinted his eyes at you and let out a deep sigh before taking it from your fingers and shoving it into his ear. You scooted closer, putting the Walkman on your lap, making it easily accessible. The side of his thigh was touching yours, his shoulder knocking into yours. It was intimate, heads closer together, and you could feel the occasional brush of his hair against your face as he shifted. 
You both didn’t speak for a while, letting someone else’s curated playlist take over all thoughts. It was special, tracking a different person’s ideas and intent with the songs they had picked, and you were grateful that every song was uniquely different genres, adding a lot of cool music you had never heard before. 
Once the CD came to an end, Daryl carefully removed his earbud and handed it back over to you. You wrapped everything back up, putting it into your bag. As you moved to leave his space, he curled his fingers around your wrist, stopping you.
“Thanks. Maybe I can use that again?” he asked, body language betraying the dryness in his tone. 
“Only if you admit I’m a fantastic scavenger,” you replied, grin taking up your face.
He let go of your wrist and rolled his eyes before nodding, “Yea, one of our best.”
You bowed as you stood up, relishing in the moment and his words. He let out a snort at that and then flipped you off. You laughed at his immaturity, and then turned away, looking for the dinner that Rick had told you about.
As you sat down to eat heated dog food, you couldn’t help but blush thinking about the past half hour. It served as another reminder that you were someone in this group, that you served a purpose. You were just as needed as anybody else, bringing something to the table. Joy was rare in this new world, but you were determined to keep finding it in every last hiding hole that you could discover.
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rfsak2 · 9 months
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Spitfire
Everyone always thought Daryl was the rough one. DarylxOC
Warnings: canon typical gore and violence.
**
“I said stay there, jackass.”
“Now, sugartits…” the man grinned- leered- and sauntered forward. “Can I call you sugartits?”
She sighed and stood from her camp chair, pushing a mass of curly, red hair out of her face. “I said: stay there. This is your last warning.”
“What’re you gonna do… all by yourself?” He sucked on his lip.
“Kill you.” She nodded at the younger man behind him. “And pretty boy, if he has anything to say after.”
The older man laughed. “Baby, my brother and I are twice your size and there’s two of us-“
“Merle, stop.” It was the younger one, his crossbow aimed at her head, eyes on her face through the scope.
“Yeah, Merle… wouldn’t want to get in over your head.”
“Really?” He laughed. “The tough chick bullshit is probably what got ya this far, but you gonna need some help if you want to survive.”
“And I bet you’re just the man to render that help…” She smiled, keeping her posture loose and light.
“Yeah, baby, we can take care of you.” Merle rubbed his hands together, stalking closer. “Gotta be tit for tat, though… emphasis on the tit.”
“Merle.” Daryl hadn’t relaxed, still tense, hands on his crossbow.
“Shut up, Daryl.” Merle chucked. “You let me handle this.”
“You ain’t handling nothing, dickhead.” She batted her eyes at him. “I will kill you if you get any closer.”
“With what, darlin’?”
“With my hands.”
He barked out a laugh and stepped forward, within arms reach. “Well, in that case…” He reached out for her and she stepped back and popped him in the face with a quick right hook.
Merle pulled back in shock and gaped at her. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he reached for her again, saying, “That was real cute.”
She caught his arm and slapped him across the face with the back of her forearm.
Merle backed off, holding his hands up. “Alright… you tougher than you look.”
She pulled her knuckle-dusters from her pocket and slipped them on her hand in one fluid motion. She lunged forward and popped him in the cheekbone.
He fell back and she followed him down, landing two more heavy hammer fists before she felt the sharp point of an arrow against her temple.
She lifted her hands. “I warned him.”
“Only reason you don’t got a bolt in your head. Back off.”
She risked a peek at him and stood slowly, Merle spluttering underneath her.
The brother, Daryl, kept an eye on her as he hauled his brother up.
“You bitch!” He spat to the side and wiped at his face. He grinned. “Not gonna lie, that’s kinda sexy.”
Daryl shook his head, muttering something about “dumb assholes”.
“You like getting beaten up on by women?” She laughed in a sharp crack, tension suddenly drained out of space. “I used to know someone who could help you with that.”
“That what you used to do, baby?” Merle licked his split lip. “Turn trick?”
She shook her head, smiling. “I meant a therapist, you fuckin’ tool.”
“You were a therapist?”
She could feel them eyeing her tattooed arms. The implicit judgment irked her. She wasn’t the picture of mental health but that didn’t mean she was dirty or unworthy. “No, I went to a therapist.”
“Why?” It was the younger one this time.
“None of your damn business.” She arched an eyebrow. “Why are you still here anyways?”
“Why leave?” Merle shrugged and sat his ass on a stump near to her fire. He cast a look around at her camp, eyeing her tent and truck.
She chuckled and nabbed a shop rag from her tool kit, wiping his blood off the knuckle dusters and slipping them back in her pocket. “Because I ain’t giving you shit and we both know now that neither of you are gonna take it. So I don’t really know why you’re still here.”
“Could take it while you’re asleep.” Daryl this time, but even he didn’t seem convinced.
She shrugged, nodding vaguely. “You could try, I guess.” She sat in her chair. “Do what you gotta.”
They were collectively silent for a while, Merle sat on the stump wiping at his face with the bottom of his shirt, Daryl pacing, switching from watching her to taking in his surroundings.
He seemed to come to a decision and sat on the ground near his brother. He briefly checked on Merle and turned piercing, pretty blue eyes on her. “Where you from?”
“Johnson City, Texas.” She eyed him. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Just don’t sound like you from ‘round here, ‘sall.”
She made a face, nodding vaguely in agreement. “Fair. Where you two from?”
“Mountain City.”
“Georgia?”
Merle nodded.
She hummed and reached for a pack of cigarettes sitting on a little camp table. She lit a cigarette and, after a beat, tossed it and the lighter to Daryl and Merle.
“What’s your name, baby?”
“Mitzi.”
“Mitzi?”
She nodded.
“What the hell kinda name is that?”
She chuckled. “The one I got.”
**
“Officer Shane Walsh.” The burly man stuck his hand out and the pret- redheaded woman, who had reluctantly let them stay in her camp, looked unimpressed, arms littered with bold color crossed over her chest. Shane stared the much smaller woman down. She stared right back.
Daryl had to hand it to her, she was small by any standard. A near-foot shorter than the man in front of her and nowhere near as broad. She met Shane’s eyes unflinchingly, posture straight and take-no-shit. She was a tough one.
“Mitzi.” She didn’t take his hand.
Shane seemed to be waiting for something and kind of huffed, setting his hand on his hip. “Mitzi?”
She nodded and was silent for an unreasonably long time.
“You got a last name?”
“You got a warrant?” She huffed right back. Daryl buried a chuckle.
Shane gritted his teeth. “Do I need one?”
“Do you have authority to have one?” She made an exaggerated show of looking around. “Looky there, no judge in sight.”
“Look, I’m not trying to start a fight.” Shane held his hand up. “I’m just-“
“Pissing on territory that’s not yours. Conveniently, it’s not mine either. Set your sh-“ she eyed the kid standing behind him. “Your stuff wherever. I don’t care, but just know that the more of us that are here, the more danger we are in.”
The reminder of the state of things seemed to rattle the small family. The woman behind him took a shaky breath.
Mitzi sighed. “My name is Mitzi Donovan.”
“This is Carl and Lori.”
Daryl noticed that he didn’t include the kid or his mom’s last name. He noticed that she noticed too, one red eyebrow arched almost into her hairline.
“Who are they?” Shane nodded dismissively at them and Daryl sucked on his tongue.
She swiveled to look and caught his eye. She grinned and winked. He huffed and turned away.
“Those are the Dixon brothers.”
“They’re your family?”
“Nope. Feels like I’ve known them forever though.” She turned back to Shane.
“Baby, we can be family anytime you like.” Merle wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
She huffed out a laugh. “Shut up, Merle.”
“Feels like?”
She turned back to Shane. “Maybe it’s the trauma.”
“The trauma?”
“It’s the end of the end of the world.” She motioned vaguely at the sky. “You know? This.”
The lady, taller and leaner than Mitzi, leaned forward, whispering. “How long have you known them?”
“Longer than you.”
Shane huffed. “Can we get a straight answer?”
She frowned. “That is a straight answer. I may not have know them long but I know them better than I know you. I find the insinuation that you are somehow better than them-“
The woman stepped forward. “I didn’t say we were better… just, they seem dangerous.”
“I hate to tell ya this, but we are all dangerous now. Either now or later.” She turned and walked towards where Daryl was sitting. “Gotta be now to prevent being later.”
“What about you?” Shane shouted after her. “Are you dangerous?”
She grinned and looked back at him but Merle spoke over her. “She’s the most dangerous of us all, Officer Friendly.”
Daryl chuckled. “She’s gotta helluva right hook.”
“Shut th’hell up, little brother.”
**
“That legal?”
“Nope! Made it myself.” She grinned -rather sarcastically- back at Shane and pulled her hunting rifle and a homemade silencer from her gun locker. She screwed it on and passed it over the side wall of the bed of her truck to Daryl, noticing that Shane tried to grab at it.
Daryl whistled lowly. “Nice piece.”
She smiled and nodded. “I machined a lot of that gun. It’s a favorite of mine.”
“You machined it?��� Daryl opened the bolt and it closed with a satisfying click.
“Yeah, one of my buddies had the full shebang in his workshop. Taught me how. It was fun.”
“Do you think you can do it again?” Shane nodded at the gun.
She winced. “I’m no expert and none of that machinery is going to be readily available or viable without power. I can definitely maintain any weaponry we have, but making a new gun is a bit out of my scope.”
“What’s that?”
She looked over at the kid, standing next to Shane at her tailgate. She hummed and he pointed at the frankly giant army green gun locker at her feet.
She sighed. “That’s a really big gun.” She wrinkled her nose. “Too big for this-“
“Woo-hee, Lil’ Bit. Where’d you get that?” Merle leaned his forearms against her truck. “That’s Army-issued.”
“Did you steal it?” Shane grunted, sending Carl away.
She tensed. “Get the fuck off my truck, Merle.”
“Did you steal it?”
“I heard you the first time, fuckwit.” She gritted out. “I didn’t steal it. It’s mine.”
“You were in the Army, dollface?” Merle licked his lips.
“I am in the Army. I was heading to Atlanta for a presentation. I’m technically on leave.” She turned away and locked down the gun case and hopped over the side.
Shane set his hands on his hips. “So you’re a deserter then?”
She sighed. “I don’t know, Officer Walsh, are you?”
“What?” He snarled, stalking toward her.
She met him head on, Daryl grabbing at her arm. She shook him off. “I said, ‘Officer Walsh, are you a deserter?’ You left your post, didn’t you? Got Lori and Carl out. Are you a deserter?”
He shrunk back, hands in the air and she felt Daryl’s chest against her arm.
She sighed. “One day, Shane, one day, you are going to meet the business end of my patience. You are going to judge wrongly and I am going to hand you your ass.”
“Is that a threat?”
She had turned away, hand on Daryl’s shoulder, pushing him gently back. She caught Shane’s eyes and held them. “It’s an eventuality, if you don’t watch your fuckin’ mouth and step down off of your high horse.”
**
“More people.”
She nodded.
“More noise.”
She sighed. “Can’t leave them out there though. They’d never survive, make more dead.”
Daryl nodded. “Still dangerous.”
She focused down at the hunting rifle she was cleaning. “Gonna need more food.”
Daryl made a noise in the back of his throat and she looked up, catching his eyes with her pretty green ones. “Hmm?”
“More food means more hunting.” He granted her a soft smile.
She smiled back. “Silver lining.”
“You two fuck yet?” Merle slurred from where he was slumped in her camp chair. “I’m here waiting my turn and ‘ll.”
“You don’t get a turn, Merle.” She disassembled her rifle, Daryl cussed under his breath. She caught his eyes and winked.
“So y’have fucked, then.”
“If it gets you off, you are welcome to imagine whatever you want.”
He leered. “I do, darlin’, trust and believe.”
Daryl tensed, his jaw tightening visibly. She knocked his elbow and made a face at Merle. “Kinda weird though…”
He didn’t open his eyes, head back on the chair. “Wha?”
“To imagine all that with your brother… just sayin’.”
Merle went red but shrugged, ignoring her. “Girls always liked Daryl more. Never did know why.”
“Maybe some introspection can help you figure it out.” She grinned at Daryl, who was still glaring at Merle. “Gotta be a reason.”
Merle peeked at her from under the hand he held over his eyes. “What reason’s that?”
“Don’t know.” She grinned. “That’s why I said to do some introspection.”
He grunted. “Introspection is for pussies.”
She laughed. “I think you just stumbled into one of probably many reasons why girls liked Daryl more.”
“Fuck you.” The statement lacked heat though, his head still dropped back against the chair.
She made a little moue and cooed. “You wish.”
“You’re Mitzi, right?”
She jumped and turned to the burly man approaching them, her shoulder brushing Daryl’s chest. “Yeah?”
“I was told to come get a gun from you.” The man crossed his arms, cocky and impatient. Mitzi bristled, hackles rising.
“Told by who?”
“The cop.”
She sucked on her teeth. “Then you go ask Shane for a gun. I ain’t putting a weapon in the hand of someone I don’t know.”
The man grunted and leaned into her space. “Go get me a gun.”
She shoved to her feet and pressed back into his space. The man backed up, almost as if he hadn’t been expecting her to meet him head-on. “I said ‘no’.”
“Shane said ‘yes.’”
“Shane ain’t my dad or my boss.” She made a dismissive motion. “Now git. Go ask Shane for a gun if you want one.”
He ignored her, turning to Merle. “This your bitch? You should fuckin’ muzzle her before I do.”
“Excuse me?” She stepped forward, stilling when Daryl grabbed for her arm.
“She ain’t mine and take it from someone with first-hand experience,” Merle whistled, “that is not the tree to climb. She is gonna hand you your entire ass.” He cackled. “Right after she rips you a new asshole.”
The man turned to Daryl, who was trying to shimmy Mitzi behind him. Daryl kept his hand on Mitzi’s hip and nodded at the man. “You need t’back off.”
“You’re protecting this mouthy bitch?” The man spat to the side. “She must have beer-flavored nipples.”
“Daryl, move.”
Daryl glanced down at her and the over at where Shane and a woman he had never seen before were booking it up the small incline towards what had been dubbed the Redneck Camp.
Daryl had significantly better hearing than they gave him credit for.
“No.”
“Daryl.”
“Shane’s on his way up here. You gonna start something loud.”
Her eyes snapped from staring down the man to his eyes. After a beat, she nodded and he felt her hand twisting in the fabric of his shirt in the small of his back.
“Finally someone with some balls.” The man smiled. “You oughta keep this bitch on a leash.”
Daryl chuckled. “You oughta know when to shut the hell up.” He stepped aside.
Mitzi shot from behind him like out of a gun. In the space of thirty seconds, she had popped him twice in the face and had him on the ground, her boot on his neck.
“Ed!”
“Donovan! Back off!”
“I’ll back off when I’m done with him.”
Daryl pushed Shane back. “Y’should stay back. He deserves this.”
Mitzi spat to the side. “I may be smaller than you, Ed. But make no mistake, you are boxing outside of your weight class. You ever speak to me, or about me, like that again, I will split your head open. Do you understand me?”
“F-Fuck-“
She put more pressure on his throat. “No more talking. Nod to show we’re clear.”
He nodded and she stepped off of him and turned on Shane. “Now you.”
Shame nodded aggressively. “Yeah? What you want?”
She made towards him but Daryl caught her around the waist and pulled her against his chest.
“I do not answer to you.” She stepped free of Daryl, who kept a hand on her shoulder. “Do not send people to me -especially people like this dogshit lump of humanity- like I’m some fuckin’ armory.”
“People need to be armed.” Shane tried to press forward but Lori grabbed his arm.
“I will not put a gun in the hand of someone I don’t know. That’s fuckin’ stupid. That’s how people die.” She spat out. “We don't need hall-cocked assholes getting drunk and popping off shots for fun. That’ll bring them.”
“He’s not drunk.”
“He was last night.” She laughed. “You miss that, Officer Walsh? You can smell it on him.” Shane colored. “And let’s not play games with each other. We both know that’s not what this is about.”
“What’s it about then?”
“You bein’ the boss. You callin’ the shots.” She huffed, gesticulating sarcastically. “You want that? Feel free to it. I ain’t no one’s boss, but you sure ain’t commanding me no ways. And as long as you remember that, it’ll be okay.”
Shane snarled, pushing closer, near nose-to-nose with her. “And if I don't?”
“You will.”
“Are you threatening me again?”
“Does it sound like I’m threatening you?”
Lori whisper-screamed his name and Daryl squeezed Mitzi’s shoulder. She looked at Daryl, ground her teeth and turned away, stalking toward her hunting rifle. She picked it up and reassembled it with quick, precise movements.
She paused and turned, Daryl could hear the collective intake of breath.
“Dixon! We goin’ huntin’ or nah?”
Daryl shook his head. “Yeah, Spitfire. We huntin’. Lemme grab my bow.”
“Hurry. I wanna shoot somethin’.” She flipped Shane the bird and stalked into the woods.
“She wasn’t gonna shoot ya.” Daryl nodded over at Shane, who was fuming. “You gotta learn not to fuck w’her, though. She ain’t playin’ w’you.”
**
“What’d y’do? Before all’a this.”
She shot him a look, lighting a cigarette, before passing the pack back. She blew out the first drag and waved it away. “You know what I did. I’m in the Army… or was, I guess.”
“Yeah, but what’d you do?”
“Like as a job?” She quieted, sucking on her cigarette.
“You don’t gotta tell me.” He shrugged, frowning around his cigarette. “If’s too personal.”
She shook her head. “That’s not it at all. People always reacted a certain way when I told ‘em.”
“Think I’m gonna judge ya?”
She made a face. “Ya might…”
“Nah..,” He snickered. “You know what Merle and I did?” She shrugged. “Nothing. Not a damn thing. Just drifted.”
“That doesn’t sound half bad. Sounds like freedom.” She smiled at him. “I was…I am a sniper. Prior to three months ago, I was an active spec ops sniper. Army Ranger- Captain Mildred Donovan - Long Range Weaponry.”
He hummed. “Mildred?”
She shoved his shoulder. “My grandmother’s name. Now you know why I go by Mitzi.”
He nodded. “You said that you were coming down to Atlanta for a presentation.”
She nodded. “I transitioned out of the field, became an instructor. Before all this went down, the Army wanted to show off the ‘first female spec ops operator’ and ‘one of our best guns’. They had this big shindig planned, with a record-breaking shot… the whole nine.” She winced. “I came up early for a week of leave. Saw the bombs from where I was hiking.”
Daryl shifted down against the log behind them so their shoulders were tight to each other’s. “Why’d they pick you?”
She grinned. “Ouch.”
He rolled his eyes. “Y’know what I mean. Y’like a legacy or something?”
She frowned. “A legacy?”
“Daddy was a sniper, Granddaddy was a sniper.”
“Oh no.” She shook her head. “My dad was a mechanic, my grandfather, an asshole. I was scouted, I guess you can say.” She looked down at her rifle. “I won gold in all ISSF World Cup 300m events five years running. I was going to the Olympics when…” she winced comically. “I got in a fight.”
Daryl repressed a smile to the best of his ability. “‘magine that.”
“I know.” She nodded sagely. “Very difficult to imagine.”
He rasped out a chuckle. “Damn near impossible.”
She shoved his arm. “Prick.”
“What happened with the fight?”
“I beat the shit out of my dad.” She huffed. “That’s… another story though. One I’d rather not get into.”
Daryl sucked on his cigarette. “Why did y’become an instructor? Why not stay in t’field?”
She sighed. “I tried to eat my gun. Uncle Sam thought I might have had enough. Couldn’t retire me completely, though, I’m one of the top-ranked snipers in the military and the first female in spec ops.. would’ve been bad optics, or so I was told. They covered it up and found a clever solution. Improvise, Adapt and Overcome...”
That hung heavy in the air.
“Glad you didn’t. Glad you were on leave.”
She smiled. “Me too. And thanks for not asking how many people I’ve killed.”
Daryl nodded and they finished their cigarettes in silence.
Part 2
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lilyevanstan1325 · 3 months
Text
❤️ Built For This World ❤️
Chapter 8
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I don't think I'll ever get used to a man like Daryl.
And I'm not just talking about his physical appearance, which damn is absolutely fantastic, but about him as a man.
His personality.
His strong, authoritarian nature.
Every gesture, every word that comes from this man exudes a power capable of putting me in awe, sending my brain into a tailspin.
The first lights of this dawn dimly illuminate his profile.
From the moment I reopened my eyes I couldn't take them off his face even for a moment.
His features are relaxed, soft, beautiful.
His strong arms are folded behind his head, a few strands of hair falling lazily across his forehead.
A light and adorable snore comes from his slightly parted lips, his chest rises gently, his breathing slow and steady.
Daryl Dixon sleeping is a sight to be enjoyed.
I sigh dreamily.
Is there anything this man doesn't do excellently?
I curl further into myself, hands clasped under my cheek and knees pressed against my stomach.
I enjoy this little show that I'm sure is something no one else can boast of having seen.
When I wake up the sky was still dark and my head was still resting on his chest, the scent of him in my nostrils was so strong it made my eyes roll.
I gently moved away from his body, ignoring the voice in my head that instead invited me to decrease the space between us even further.
I just had the burning desire to wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his neck.
But I listened to that little part of my self-control.
And now here I am.
Crouched in a corner enjoying this wonder.
Daryl moves slightly.
Instinctively I move away a little more.
I don't want to make him uncomfortable.
Even though he himself invited me to spend the night in his tent, I fear the moment he wakes up.
Why?
I don't even know why.
Maybe I'm just afraid that the night might have led him to change his mind about me.
About us.
I pinch my bottom lip between my teeth.
I still want to kiss him.
But him?
What about him.
His fluctuating mood is the thing that destabilizes me the most, we practically went from not looking at each other to sleeping hugged in the same tent.
Thinking back to yesterday...
God!
Yesterday more than once we got dangerously close to each other and more than once everything's came to nothing.
What if today he doesn't want it anymore?
If I close my eyes I can still feel his hands squeezing my hips, his breath on my heated lips.
His scent.
God.
I would let those strong, calloused hands do anything to me, I would let his thick fingers explore every millimeter of my scorching skin.
I squeeze my legs tightly, the fire burning between them seems to consume me mercilessly.
I whimper lightly, pathetically.
I sink my teeth into the back of my hand to try to quell my own pleasure.
Can I burn with passion for a man I just met?
This isn't me.
I'm not like that.
I have never been so passionate.
So eager.
So needy.
And this new part of me scares me.
It scares me because I shouldn't feel certain emotions, not now that the only goal of our life is to survive.
I return my gaze to the archer's face.
His very relaxed features soothe my agitated soul.
I could stay hours, days, maybe even years, still like this with him sweetly sleeping at my side.
“Take a picture, it'll last longer” his still sleeping voice whispers.
I gasp violently, blushing.
“What?” I squeak, letting my hair slide in front of my face, trying to hide my growing embarrassment, immediately interrupting all my unchaste thoughts.
Daryl turns his face slightly towards me as his body moves into the same position as mine.
His long legs come closer to mine while he bends one arm to support his head while the other hand comes closer to my face and pushes away my unruly locks with his fingertips.
His blue eyes now alert and attentive have a relaxed look.
“Yer starin’.’S creepy”
A veil of slyness is hidden in his drawl.
He's making fun of me.
He's trying to embarrass me.
I torture my lower lip between my teeth, tormenting it.
“Don't do tha’ or ya'll ruin those pretty lips” he murmurs, bringing his thumb to my lip, freeing it from the torture of my teeth.
My breath gets stuck in my throat.
His gesture sends the part of my brain capable of formulating meaningful sentences into total blackout.
Actually my entire brain.
Trying to hide the passion that this man arouses in me, I decide to respond to his provocations with a little audacity.
“I wasn't staring at you.I was admiring you” I wink.
My lips rub gently on his digit still pressed to my lips.
“Stop” he grumbles, blushing too.
Well.
His own game is turning against him.
I smile satisfied, amused by the blush that spreads across his face as I watch him roll onto his back, his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze fixed on the ceiling of the tent.
He seems to tense up, I can feel the tension radiating from his body like waves.
The temptation to touch him is too strong.
Simply too much.
I move closer to him, carefully sliding my hand along his pecs and then back up towards his hair.
Daryl turns his face towards me, his gaze uncertain and his body rigid, almost scared like a cornered animal.
He acts like he expects to get hit every time my hands come near him.
The thought that a human being can be so little related to contact makes me sad.
I have always been used to being hugged, to being loved but for him it is as if all this were unknown.
It's all new to him.
I smile shyly trying to reassure him, trying to make him understand that the one thing I would never do is hurt him.
I push my hand into his hair, digging my fingers into the messy locks and smoothing them down.
A shaky sigh escapes his lips then his body relaxes and his eyes close.
With a little more courage than I had a few minutes ago I approach him, resting my head on his hard bicep.
The archer's muscular arm moves to make room for me so that I can rest my head right next to the junction of his neck and his clavicle.
My hand abandons his hair to move towards his neck, stroking the soft skin behind his ear and finally finding a place on the nape of his neck where my nails scratch his scalp languidly.
Without shame I take a deep breath.
“You smell good” I murmur although more than a murmur the words come out of my lips like a soft moan.
The man's body stiffens again but this time it is different.
His attitude seems to have another nuance.
It's not fear.
It's more like he's trying to tame something bigger.
“Do I make you nervous?” I whisper with my lips pressed to the base of his neck unable to stop.
This sweet torture intoxicates me.
It's unstoppable.
I propping myself up on my elbow and keeping my eyes fixed on Daryl's I move closer to his face leaving a light trail of small kisses along his jawline.
Slowly.
Slowly enough to give him all the time he needed to pull back but that doesn't happen.
Daryl turns his entire body towards me, his arms wrapping around my waist pulling me against his body, his fingers playing on my lower back.
“Watch out, pretty eyes.Ya be careful wha’ ya wish fer”
His low drawl makes me blush.
His voice, still thick with sleep, awakens all my senses.
“You know big boy, I think you have a crush on me”
I wink, curling up against his chest to hide the blush that slowly and inexorably spreads across my face.
A light laugh resonates in his large chest, making the strings of my soul vibrate.
“Ya think?” the archer teases me by letting his long fingers run along my spine.
I nod, nuzzling my head against his neck, my lips finding his chin where they leave a little peck.
“You call me pretty eyes, pretty lips...so…”
He let out a hmph sound.
And I find it adorable.
I giggle as I move away from his body or at least I try because his strong, muscular arms keep me anchored to him.
I barely lift my face in search of his eyes and I find them already staring at me with an intensity that makes me breathless.
Everything is so easy with him.
All so natural.
Where's the catch?
Am I really ready to let him enter in my heart?
But in the end do I still have the time to choose?
Maybe...maybe I'm already in too deep and if he decides to smash my heart into a thousand pieces I'm sure I'd let him do it.
I'm willing to suffer even to have a little piece of him.
“Yer right.Ya pretty little thing, ya look so delicate but I know ya not like tha’.Oh no, ya ain't as sweet and delicate as ya would like to let me believe”
Daryl whispers barely brushing my lips with his.
His attentive gaze is studying me and his words crush my heart.
He is right.
I'm not like that or rather there was a time when I was delicate but it's been a really long time ago.
I had to replace sweetness with strength.
I had to replace the desire for love with the desire to survive.
Now I'm stronger, tougher and more cautious with people.
Distrust has become my dearest friend.
I hid my true nature behind a stronger, stoic demeanor.
A mask that this man seems determined to destroy and I'm ready to let him do it.
“If I let ya in…”
Daryl inhales deeply taking a moment to reflect on his own words before continuing.
“How dangerous are ya, Summer?”
His question makes my blood run cold.
I am not dangerous but my past, my history, is.
And a lot too.
I stammer something incomprehensible under my breath, moving away from his grasp, escaping his now suspicious gaze.  Pushing my hands against his chest I give myself a gentle push and roll onto my back to put an end to whatever was about to happen.
I sit there unable to say anything.
Unable to answer his simple question.
Basically he doesn't know anything about me and before getting involved it's right that he wants to know.
But what about me?
Am I willing to answer him?
I already know my answer.
And fuck, this hurts for a million different reasons.
Behind me I can hear the rustling of the sleeping bag under the archer's movements.
His hand rests delicately on my back, making me tremble.
“Tell me who ya are, sunshine”
His short plea is muffled by his lips on my shoulder.
Very cautiously Daryl approaches me, sitting right in front of me, welcoming my figure between his long legs.
The soles of his boots resting firmly on the ground, legs raised and strong arms resting on his knees, his hands lazily caressing my biceps.
Small shivers blossom where his fingers pass.
I feel infinitely small locked in the prison of his body.
I bring my knees to my chest, wrapping them in my arms and risking a glance in his direction.
“Wha’ are ya runnin’ from?”
This is the final blow.
I only have two options.
Lie.
Lying like I learned to do.
Or I could tell him the truth.
Tell him why I'm running away.
What I'm running from.
Who I'm running from.
A sad smile caresses my lips.
Daryl cocks his head slightly to the side, his narrowed gaze busy studying my reaction.
Ready to grasp every little nuance.
I look down at the tips of my boots.
“Do you think it is possible to escape from our past?” I whisper.
The sound of my voice drowned only by the deafening beat of my heart thundering in my ears.
“If I told you I was running away from myself would you believe me, Daryl?”
The man's large hand makes space on my face, finding the perfect fit in the hollow of my neck.
His thumb is a light caress on my cold skin.
His head tilts further in search of my elusive gaze.
“Good luck with this.I've been doin’ this shit my whole damn life”
His words catch my attention like a moth attracted to the light.
His blue gaze, like crystalline water, seems to darken, behind it a veil made of ancient memories and pain.
His past also seems to haunt him.
“It doesn't work, does it?” I smile defeated.
I don't know why this makes me sad, after all I am aware of the fact that it ain't possible to escape from our demons, from our mistakes, yet I always hope that it's possible...
“Listen to me” Daryl whispers, moving a little closer.
Our faces are really so close that I feel like I'm running out of oxygen in my lungs.
“Ya can run, ya can run fer yer whole life.Ya can run fer miles but yer past is here” he murmurs, touching my left temple with the tip of his index finger.
“And here” he whispers, moving his finger towards the center of my chest, pointing it right at my heart.
“Yer past will forever be a part of ya.Yer past is what has shaped the woman ya're today”
His hands gently wrap around my face caressing me as if I were made of crystal.
As if he was afraid he would break me if he held me tighter.
“I dunno anythin’ ’bout tha’ past and I don't give a shit.Do ya know wha’ I see instead?”
His southern accent sweetly envelops my every thought, making my mouth go dry.
My fingers timidly find his wrists, wrapping around them with desperate need.
I cling to him, to his words, as if they were my only hold.
Daryl is the only thing keeping me afloat in this sea of pain right now.
“What do you see?”
Daryl licks his lips.
And then he smiles.
And the world stops.
His face looks infinitely younger.
It's as if all his pain, all my pain, just disappeared.
Nothing exists anymore.
Just me and him.
“I see a strong woman, a woman who defied death to find something else.I see a brave woman, a woman who isn't afraid to take on an asshole like Shane.I see a loyal friend, a friend who puts aside her own shit to help Carol.Summer ya so many beautiful things tha’…God!It pisses me off tha’ ya don't see it”
With my eyes wide open and my heart racing, I don't even realize what happens immediately afterwards.
Daryl's lips crash against mine.
His firm grip on my face is fuel on the fire.
The violence of the contact only fuels the fire inside me.
I get up, kneeling and bringing my body closer to his, our chests pressing against each other with so much vehemence that if it were possible I would melt and merge into him.
My arms wrap around his neck, my hands dive into his soft locks, pulling them hard.
A pathetic moan leaves my lips and Daryl takes the opportunity to slide his velvety tongue between them.
I moan louder in response.
Despite the fervor of the kiss, Daryl's tongue moves shyly as if all of a sudden he isn't so sure anymore.
As if he were embarrassed by his own passion for me.
We both don't know what we're doing and where all this will take us but we can't help but surrender to our needs.
Because yeah, what we feel is need.
A physical need, the need to soothe our pain.
The corrosive need to no longer be alone.
I soften my grip on his hair by sliding my fingers along the back of his neck, giving him sweet caresses with my fingers.
I move my lips delicately caressing his tongue with mine.
Kissing Daryl is like downing a shot of tequila in one gulp.
It burns every sense and goes straight to the brain clouding every thought, every fear, every inhibition.
Kissing Daryl is losing yourself in the oblivion of pleasure.
Suddenly the kiss ends and when my eyelids flicker again, the first thing that strikes me is the man's bewildered look.
He seems intimidated, almost scared.
I tremble as I lower my gaze, suddenly struck by a thousand anxieties.
His strong hands move down my sides and then cling tightly to my feverish skin, his forehead rests delicately against mine.
“It was so bad?” he tries to lighten me up noticing the tension in my body.
I just shake my head with a shy smile.
“Not that bad, big boy” I whisper, seeking his lips again, kissing him once more.
A light and quick kiss.
With my fingers I continue to absentmindedly caress the back of his neck, enjoying this little moment of haze.
Daryl looks thoughtful as his intelligent, attentive eyes probe my face.
“Listen to me, sunshine.If ya don't wan’ to talk ’bout it that's fine but don't give me bullshit.No lies.I hate lies”
Daryl is trusting me and I know I don't want to disappoint him, I can't do it for the simple fact that I would never forgive myself.
I know it's an effort for him too to trust me and I can't betray him.
“There was a man” I whisper, moving my hands towards his chest, holding onto his shirt.
Talking about Negan always hurts.
My cold fingers grip the fabric of his shirt almost angrily as my heart pumps furiously.
“I ran away from him, from his men…I couldn't stay any longer.I don't want to lie to you” I whisper under my breath, looking for his gaze.
The archer looks at me seriously and imperturbably.
“I don't want to lie to you but…but I don't feel like talking about it.Not now.Do you understand that?”
My anxiety is so powerful that I can't hold his gaze for a moment longer so I bury my face in his chest while his arms close around me giving me the comfort I crave.
One day, when I'm ready, I'll talk about him.
I'll tell Daryl everything.
But not now.
Now I need to find myself again.
I just need to find my balance again.
Because the only person I ever lost and need back is me.
Daryl's steady heartbeat helps me regain some self-control.
His silence gives me time to compose myself.
We remain still in our embrace until he pulls away just enough to find my eyes again.
“Did he hurt ya?”
His simple question hides an anger so visceral it scares me.
Even though he has always been sweet and delicate with me, Daryl is a strong, feral man and I am sure that anyone could only tremble in terror if they faced a man like him.
In response I simply shake my head.
Negan never physically hurt me but the pain he inflicted on my soul and heart was pure torture.
That man destroyed my heart and my soul and if he had also inflicted physical pain on me I would have almost welcomed it with open arms to no longer feel that pain inside me.
Daryl inhales deeply.
“Ya safe now and will be as long as I have the strength to protect ya.I will never let him get close to ya.Never again” he whispers.
My heart flutters at his promise.
And then, before I could even think he kiss me again.
This time with more confidence, with more awareness.
He kiss me so hard that I might consider the idea that my lips might become bruised.
And honestly I'm not complaining one bit.
The feeling of his lips on mine makes me arch my back in ecstasy.
I let out a sigh, which I didn't mean to sound so much like a moan, but the archer's lips curl up against my lips.
He seems satisfied and he leans back to give me another smile.
I return a smile resignedly, aware of not being able to control the reactions of my own body in his presence.
Not that he seems to be complaining about it.
“Are you mad at me?”
The archer tilts his head slightly to the side, shocked by my question.
“Wha’?Why should I be mad at ya?”
His tone seems almost amused.
I shrug.
“I do not know.Because I don't want to talk about…”
Daryl cuts me off immediately by crashing his lips against mine, pressing them so hard that I bend backwards until my back hits the hard ground.
I watch him as he leans towards me, placing his hands on the sides of my head.
“Ya don't even have to think ’bout it, sunshine.Ya talk when ya ready and if ya never be ready it'll be fine anyway, alrigh’?”
I nod, smiling and pinching my bottom lip between my teeth.
My hands grab the scruff of his shirt pulling him towards my lips but before I can deepen the kiss a voice makes us jump.
“I hope you're not naked because I already have too much trauma.I don't need to see your ass too, pookie”
I can't resist the laughter that forcefully bursts from my lips.
Carol enters the tent with a hand covering her eyes and a toothy smile.
Daryl huffs, letting his head fall forward.
Still shaking from laughter, I press my hands on the man's chest, pushing him away from me and sitting back down.
“C'mon Carol.Don't worry, we're already done” I smile, pushing my foot towards her boot.
The archer lies down on the sleeping bag, rolling onto his back and then sitting up.
“So…pookie?Really?” I ask amused laughing again followed by Carol’s laughter and another adorable snort from the man in question.
“Stop.Both of you” Daryl grumbles, focusing his icy gaze on both of us.
At first glance he might seem angry but the tips of his ears deliciously red make me understand that he is just terribly embarrassed.
Carol laughs as she sits next to me.
“Why?Doesn't it suit him?” the woman teases him, eyeing the man on the verge of embarrassment.
“Stop” he grumbles again, crossing his arms over his chest and avoiding our amused looks.
“Oh Carol, don't be mean” I scold her affectionately, putting my arm around her shoulders.
“Do you need something?” I ask her.
I can't stop smiling.
And it hits me.
I haven't felt so relaxed, so comfortable in a long time.
These people I just met managed to bring some calm back to my wounded heart.
I will never be able to thank them enough, not even if I lived a thousand more lives.
Subconsciously these people did more than they were supposed to do.
“Yeah.Breakfast is ready.You need to eat.Both of you need it”
My stomach growls loudly at her words.
I forgot the last time I ate.
Between Shane's mess, Sophia's search and the accident I lost track of time and my needs.
“You almost died, both of you.Now you have the duty to get back on your feet.Let's go” continues the woman, standing up and leaving the tent.
“I'll give you five minutes.Hurry up!” she yells before walking away.
I smile again shaking my head.
I have to get used to feelings like kindness and receiving care and attention from others again.
When I look for Daryl I find him staring at me.
His eyes, blue as the ocean, shine with a light I have never seen in them.
His lips are curved in a small smile.
“What's up?” I ask, embarrassed by his insistent gaze.
The archer shrugs.
“Uhu nothin’.Yer really pretty when ya smile.Ya should do this more often”
His half-hearted compliment awakens a sweet warmth in the center of my chest.
This grumpy and unfriendly man is truly adorable.
I scoop near him pressing a light peck on his beautiful lips.
“The same goes for you.You're really beautiful when you smile, pookie” I murmur bringing my lips to his again.
Daryl huffs but doesn't reject the kiss.
I smile against his lips.
“I think it suits you.On the outside you're grumpy like a bear but on the inside you're really soft” I tease him and without giving him time to reply I quickly kiss him again and leave the tent and head towards the camp where everyone else is.
The first to notice me is Shane.
The man stands slightly apart from the others.
He glances at me briefly and then returns his attention to the plate in his hands.
Strangely, his gaze wasn't full of hate as it often is when it's directed at me.
Maybe, since I got shot less than 48 hours ago, he decided to cut me some slack.
Good.
Carol smiles at me and tilts her head towards a chair.
I sit down smiling at the rest of the people.
Rick, Lori and Carl are sitting together enjoying their breakfast.
As soon as Carl sees me he gives me a shy smile which I return with a wink, the boy laughs in amusement attracting his mother's attention.
Lori nods her head a little.
I think she still feels embarrassed about what she asked me to do but the fact that she finally talked about it with her husband seems to have made her relax a bit.
Rick watches her, his crystal clear eyes are an ocean of fear and confusion.
At the moment Lori seems to be fine and mentally I breathe a sigh of relief.
I feel so fucking guilty for getting her those damn pills.
I really hope that the little one is okay.
T-Dog is helping Carol by the fire.
It looks like they are cooking eggs.
Great.
My stomach rumbles again as their delicious scent reaches my nostrils making my mouth salivate.
Andrea is sitting in front of me busy smoothing the large blade of a hunting knife, her sister Amy, sitting next to her, is also observing her carefully, waiting to receive her food ration.
Glenn and Dale are next to each other and both exchange weird looks.
Glenn, unlike other days, seems particularly tense.
Nervous I dare say.
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably, casting a fleeting glance towards the porch of the Green house from where Maggie is watching us.
Her expression is too serious.
Maybe the two lovebirds had some spats.
Who knows.
My thoughts are interrupted by heavy footsteps.
And I don't need to turn around to understand who they belong to.
Daryl's scent reaches me before his hand gently rests on my shoulder.
“Take it.It's cold today” the man mutters, handing me a blue checked flannel shirt.
One of his shirts.
My heart jumps into my throat and begins to beat in a completely irregular way.
I actually didn't pay much attention to the weather when I left the archer's tent.
Today the gray sky is covered with large clouds and a light wind makes me shiver.
My t-shirt is certainly not appropriate.
Daryl sits down next to me, giving me a brief smile.
I blush as I slip my arms into his shirt, a shirt that is full of his intoxicating scent.
“Oh wow!This shirt has sleeves.I didn't think you had one" I whisper teasing him and getting an adorable amused snort from him in response.
“Thanks” I whisper with my cheeks still burning, resting my head on his shoulder for a moment.
“’S nothin’ ” he shrugs giving me a gentle shove with his elbow.
Our little exchange of effusions ends when Glenn clears his throat a couple of times.
I observe him carefully while he walks back and forth with an agitated pace.
What happens?
It's not like him to behave like this.
Glenn is always sunny, always with that sweet smile on his face, but this morning he is different.
His eyes are surrounded by the hint of dark circles as if he's had little sleep and his lips are curled into a serious line.
Something's wrong, I can feel it under my skin.
“Um, guys” he mutters, nervously running a hand over his chin.
My eyes immediately search Daryl's.
The man returns my gaze with his equally worried look.
He too realized that there is something strange in the delivery boy's attitude.
We both turn our fullest attention to him.
“So…theburnisfullofwalkers” he snorts in one breath.
Immediately ten heads snap towards the barn.
Ten pairs of wide, disbelieving eyes turn their attention back to Glenn.
I feel panic gripping my guts as in a completely involuntary gesture my hand goes to squeeze the forearm of the man next to me.
My eyes full of terror are reflected in the archer's incredulous ones.
His hand gently squeezes my fingers which are unconsciously squeezing his arm.
Unceremoniously Rick and Shane are the first to quickly walk towards the barn.
Everyone else follows them.
Everyone except me.
I feel as if my legs are paralyzed, a general tremor radiates along my limbs.
“C'mom sunshine, everythin’ will be fine” Daryl urges me.
I turn towards his voice and find him standing next to me, my hand still tight on his arm.
My nails are digging little half-moons shapes into his tanned skin.
As soon as I realize this I immediately withdraw my hand, bringing it to my lap and muttering an apology under my breath, my eyes lowered to my knees.
Daryl kneels, bringing his face level with mine, his hands are a delicate caress on my thighs.
From the knee they slowly move up along them and then repeat the same reassuring movement over and over again.
“Hey!Will everythin’ be good, alrigh’?C'mere” he whispers, bringing his face close to mine and kissing me lightly on the lips.
I feel the blush arise from my neck to the tips of my ears.
I look around nervously and then return my attention to the man kneeling in front of me.
“Daryl!Someone might see us!” I squeak in panic.
Daryl huffs in response, standing up and holding out his hand.
I look at his large, calloused fingers and with a trembling hand I accept his hold.
“I don't give a damn ’bout others.Do ya care?” he asks without looking me in the eyes.
Our fingers intertwine and together we walk towards the barn from where we can already hear the agitated voices of the others carried by the wind.
Before we can reach the others I stop, yanking the archer's hand who, looking at me furtively, stops.
“I don't care about others either” I smile shyly.
And it's the truth.
I could never be ashamed of him.
His gesture definitely took me by surprise, I must admit, and for a moment I feared what others might think.
My arrival has already caused several problems and tribulations in the group and I wouldn't want my closeness with the handsome archer to be a further reason for arguments between him and Shane.
“Good” Daryl grunts and I could swear I saw him blush as we start walking again with a determined pace.
I beam at his back while I can't take my eyes off our fingers locked together.
Rick and Shane are facing each other while the latter points a finger at his friend's chest.
“You cannot tell me you're all right with this” Shane hisses out.
Rick's gaze hardens.
“No, I'm not, but we're guests here.This isn't our land" replies the officer.
The sharp tone of his voice seems to make Shane even more angry.
The man takes a few steps away, bringing his hand to his face and rubbing it nervously.
“Oh God.This is our lives, man” he shouts.
From the barn, increasingly insistent moans and growls follow one another.
“Lower your voice” I invite them, pressing me close to Daryl.
The hotter things get, the more the walkers seem to get agitated.
Shane gives me a mean glare but, perhaps seeing me clinging to Daryl's arm, he decides not to say anything to me and simply shakes his head.
I exchange a quick glance with Glenn.
Anxiety seems to be eating him up.
Andrea lovingly wraps her arm around her sister's shoulders, as if she wanted to protect her from what's in that damned barn.
“We can't just sweep this under the rug” the woman vehemently explains her opinion, immediately earning a hint of approval from Shane who immediately after her adds “It ain't right.Not remotely”
Then he starts walking back and forth again.
His body radiates nervousness from every pore, making me more and more nervous.
Next to me Carl squirmed slightly, hiding behind his mother.
Lori grabs her boy's hand and tries to silently comfort him.
“We either got to go in there, we got to do things right, or we just got to go.Now we have been talking about Fort Benning for a long time” Shane says confidently but his words clash with the determined frown of his best friend.
Shit.
Would they really want to leave this place?
What if the group decided to head towards Washington?
I can't even think about it...
I squeeze the archer's fingers tighter and his gaze immediately falls on me.
I think he sees the panic all over my face because, reciprocating my grip around my trembling fingers, he whispers “Don't worry.We found a way”
I nod, chewing the inside of my cheeks until I taste the coppery taste of my blood.
What a fucked up situation!
Why would Hersel keep all these walkers imprisoned?
Does he not realize the risk he places his own daughters in?
“We can't go” Rick barks, gesturing nervously.
Of course he can't.
His wife is pregnant and leaves like this blindly without a real and safe destination is unthinkable.
“Why Rick?Why?” Shane shouts with his eyes almost bulging.
But before anyone can respond Carol advances with a determined step alongside Rick and facing Shane.
“Because my daughter is still out there”
Her eyes are full of tears.
How could we ever leave this place without first finding Sophia?
It is an absolutely impossible option to take into consideration.
Unthinkable.
Shane scoffs by burying his face in his hands.
His reaction activates every cell in my body.
I am fully aware that if Shane says the wrong words I will lose my mind.
“Okay, okay” Shane murmurs, moving closer to Carol.
In a completely automatic gesture I let go of Daryl's hand to move closer to Carol.
“Okay” the man sighs “Okay, I think it's time that we all start to just consider the other possibility”
“Fuck you Shane!We're not leaving Sophia behind.We're so close” I snap, pressing my hands forcefully on his hard chest, making him move back just a few steps.
Daryl approaches immediately trying to calm things down but now it's open war between me and that piece of shit of Shane.
I put my hands on my hips, daring him to respond to my words.
He snorts in response, rolling his eyes.
“Daryl and I found his doll two days ago”
The man chuckles sarcastically at my words.
“You found her doll.That's what you did.You found a damn doll.You almost died for a fucking doll.Do you understand, kid?” he yells a few inches from my face sending shivers down my spine.
I feel myself being grabbed violently by the arm and before I can understand what's happening Daryl comes dangerously close, screaming too.
“You don't know wha’ the hell ya talking ’bout”
“Man, look, I'm just saying what needs to be said here” retorts Shane.
I feel like my head is exploding so I decide to take a few steps away, leaving the shouting and arguing behind me.
I'm too nervous and too angry that I really could have hit that idiot if I had stayed there a little longer.
I approach the barn door, peering between the boards.
Inside it, dozens of walkers walk aimlessly, grunting and bumping into each other without any logic.
Something brushes against my shoulder making me jump startling in fear.
When I turn around I have Glenn's tired and heartbroken face in front of me.
“Shit dude.You scare the shit out of me” I scold him with my nerves on edge.
“Sorry” he apologizes, lowering his gaze and digging his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“It seems like lately whatever I do doesn't work out right”
My friend's words make my heart ache.
“Hey” I call him hugging him.
“It's not your fault.We are all nervous.Sorry”
Glenn returns the hug with much more force than usual, burying his face in my hair.
“I had to say it.Even though I love Maggie, you are my family.I couldn't stay silent.You understand me, don't you?” he murmurs in my ear, continuing to hold me in his arms.
Poor Glenn.
I'm sorry to see him so torn between his love for Maggie and his loyalty to all of us.
“You did what you thought was right.Don't blame yourself.Maggie is a smart woman, she will understand” I try to console him.
Suddenly all hell breaks loose behind us.
I abruptly break the hug in time to see Daryl lunge at Shane.
And it's chaos.
The two are pulled back by several hands, each trying to prevent the two men from being able to hit each other.
Without thinking twice I run into the fray, standing right in front of the archer's body, catching Shane's fist right in my face.
I stagger a few steps, feeling a heat dripping from above my eye.
Grunting, while the screams get louder and more excited around me, I put a hand to my face.
A hand that is immediately tinged with a bright crimson shade.
Fuck!
I stagger a few steps, tripping over my own feet and ending up with my ass on the ground.
“Shit” I cough as my back hits the hard ground.
Immediately afterwards some hands press against my forehead but when I try to rebel a voice immediately silences me.
“It's me.Stay still”
T-Dog's friendly voice reaches my confused brain.
The man takes a rag out of his pants pocket and presses it right to my left eyebrow.
I hiss as the fabric touches my broken skin.
"Don't worry.It's the eyebrow, it's normal for it to bleed a lot.A couple of stitches and you'll be as good as new” he grunts as he takes my weight on himself, passing my arm over his shoulders and helping me stand up.
And even though my vision is blurry and I'm currently seeing double I can paint the picture of the situation in front of me.
Rick's arms are wrapped around Daryl's torso as Glenn tries to help calm him down.
Lori protects her little boy with her body, an action that Andrea is also carrying out towards her little sister.
Shane's chest rises and falls rapidly, his body shaking with uncontainable anger.
Carol and Dale try to bring sanity back to the group but they're all too busy yelling at each other to realize it.
“Would you take me to Hersel?” I ask, receiving a nod from T-Dog in response.
I'm too tired and too confused right now to deal with them.
With limping steps we finally manage to reach the porch of the large white house.
A thoughtful Maggie is sitting on the steps and as soon as she notices us and the state of my face she reaches us with a couple of quick strides.
Without saying a word she takes us inside going to call her father.
It's just Hersel and I in the big bedroom.
The man began to sew up my wound without asking any questions.
I think they heard the screams all the way inside the house and Hersel is a smart man.
He knows that we know.
I hiss a little every time the needle digs into my skin.
I wouldn't have minded a little anesthetic.
Or a glass of scotch.
“You don't have anything to tell me?”
His question doesn't surprise me.
The calmness with which he asked it to me makes me understand that it is not the first time that he has addressed this discussion with someone.
And thinking about the reactions of each of us to the discovery of what the barn contains, I can say with absolute certainty that the only one who knew besides Glenn was Dale.
And I'm also pretty sure that the latter has already spoken to the kind vet to ask him for explanations.
I shrug, trying to appear as relaxed and indifferent as possible.
“I have nothing to tell you.This is your house so your rules.The thing I don't understand is how a man of your intelligence doesn't understand the danger of this crazy choice"
Hersel continues his work without answering me.
His blue eyes are fixed on his hands as he expertly sews me up.
I sigh.
Rick is right.
This place doesn't belong to us but we can't leave either.
Not without Sophia.
Not with Lori in this condition.
“Well since you have nothing to say I'll do the talking” I step forward.
Hersel doesn't look me in the eye but nods slightly giving me permission to express my opinion.
“What you're doing is dangerous Hersel.Those things...having them so close won't lead to anything good”
“Those things" the vet promptly replies “are human beings.They're just sick people”
My face contorts into a grimace of confusion.
“Hersel…you don't see things clearly”
It's absurd.
I swear this is the last thing I ever expected to come out of his mouth.
The man applies gauze to my wound and then turns his back on me to rinse his hands in a small basin of water.
“I need you and your group gone by the end of the week”
His words hit me like a slap, making me flounder in confusion.
I stand up behind him, hug my midsection with my arms to try to hold together all the pieces that threaten to fall apart at the idea of finding myself on the road again.
Back in that hell.
“You and I have our differences with the way we look at the walkers.Those…those people, they may be dead, they may be alive, but those people” I say vehemently, pointing with my hand to the field outside the window “Us…us, we are alive right now, right here, right in front of you.You sand us out there and that could change”
Hersel leaves the room without answering me but I can't let him so I follow him.
The man reaches the kitchen, positioning himself in front of the sink, his hands tightly grasping the edge of it.
“I've given you safe harbor.My conscience is clear” he says.
I stand next to the man looking for his gaze.
Meanwhile Rick appears on the doorstep.
I was sure he would come but now I can't let him interrupt us so I stop him with a hard gesture of my hand.
Rick doesn't say a word, remaining motionless on the doorstep, his eyes tired and his pale face.
“This farm…this farm is special” I continue looking for the vet's gaze.
“You've been shielded from what's been going on out there.Maggie tells me that you saw everything happen on the news.Well, it's been a long time since the cameras stopped rolling”
Hersel continues to keep his gaze down trying to move away from me again.
My hand gripping his arm tightly prevents him from doing so.
“Hersel what the world is out there isn't what you saw on TV.Is it much much worse, and it changes you.I know it.What I saw out there, the people I met out there…God!You can't imagine how lucky you are to have met a man like Rick and his people.If you had met my group…just know that you would have wished for death Hersel”
Both men's eyes snap in my direction.
The weight of my words crushes me.
I knew the truth would come out but I didn't imagine that their looks would hurt me so much.
I look at Rick with a million apologies etched in my eyes.
He trusted me and I should have told him the truth first.
But now it's too late.
Now my goal is to convince Hersel to let the group stay and if I have to leave I will be ready to face the weight of the consequences of my choices.
“Please do not…do not send us out of there again” I murmur in a faint voice, now defeated, returning my attention to the only man who currently has the power to choose which direction our lives will take.
Hersel seems closed in his silence, convinced of his decisions.
So with shoulders hunched and head down I walk towards Rick.
When I'm about to walk past him and leave him alone with Hersel, he gently grabs my hand and squeezes it in his, forcing me to stop.
In his gesture there is no anger but a tacit thanks for having exposed myself on the behalf of everyone.
My eyes, dilated with amazement, look for the officer's but he isn't paying me the slightest attention.
He and Hersel are looking at each other, eye to eye, so intensely that I almost believe they are communicating telepathically.
“My wife's pregnant”
Rick suddenly begins, earning a look of pure amazement from the man in front of us.
“That's either a gift here or a death sentence out there.If we were to stay, we could help you with the work, with securing this place.We can survive together”
Rick's words make me shiver.
We can survive.
We can really do it.
This baby will be a blessing I'm sure.
Now everything is in Hersel's hands.
He will decide our fate.
“You can't stay” was his only response.
Rick stiffens and seems ready to retort forcefully, I can feel it in the way his fingers tighten around mine but before he can open his mouth I tug on his arm telling him to be quiet.
“Just think about it, okay?” I ask him politely, dragging Rick away with me out of the kitchen and then out of the house.
As soon as we go out onto the porch I am literally overwhelmed by Daryl's arms.
His arms wrap around my neck, pressing my head against his rocky chest.
The stitches on my eyebrow pull uncomfortably.
I hiss, immediately attracting the attention of the man who lets me go but immediately brings his hands to the side of my face, cupping it gently.
“Ya good?” he asks, studying my wound as if he could understand its extent from under the white bandage.
I nod, smiling faintly.
The argument with Hersel drained every ounce of energy I had.
Rick clears his throat, placing his hands on his hips.
His gaze flies towards the barn, towards Shane.
“I'm going to talk to him”
His worried look doesn't escape that of the archer who goes back and forth between Rick and me.
Our state of mind is certainly perceivable even from miles away.
Daryl lets go of my face and sits on the porch steps, clapping a hand next to him, a clear invitation to take the seat next to him.
I sit down, getting as close as possible and the man, understands my intentions, my needs, lift his arm and welcomes me into his gentle embrace.
“Wha’ happened in there?” he asks.
My gaze goes towards the barn, towards the two men who are arguing heatedly.
I'm more than convinced that Shane won't take Hersel's decision well.
I return my gaze to the archer's worried one.
I look down at my hands clasped in my lap, a lump in my throat preventing me from breathing.
What will we do if we really have to abandon this place?
“Hey sunshine”
“Hersel wants us to leave” I whisper trembling.
Daryl tightens his grip around my shoulders, pressing his lips to my temple.
“How will we do?” I whimper, sniffling.
A thousand fears cloud my heart.
The walkers.
The cold of the imminent winter.
Lori and the baby.
How are we going to survive out there?
I barely made it and I was alone.
How will a large group like ours cope with walkers, starvation and cold?
And then there's Sophia, how will we look for her if we have to leave?
Daryl stands up offering me his hand, which I accept as every time without any hesitation.
I let myself be pulled onto him, letting myself be wrapped in his embrace.
This time the man takes infinite caution not to press against my wounded forehead.
"It'll be fine.As long as we're together everythin’ will be fine”
His sweet words echo in my ear pressed against his welcoming chest.
After a few hours everything around us begins to populate.
The sun is now about to set while, wrapped in Daryl's embrace, all the others gather next to us.
And people seem decidedly calmer.
Glenn and Maggie sit on the steps behind us, smiling lovingly at each other.
I was sure they would clarify.
Glenn and I give each other a brief, knowing look.
Both smiling and above all full of confidence in the future.
Daryl is right.
As long as we all stay together everything will be fine.
Together we are strong.
Andrea joins us flanked by T-Dog.
“Do you know what's happening?” asks the latter.
This last question is followed by Andrea's question about where Rick is.
Carol arrives from the other side of the field, joining us at a brisk walk.
I lift one of my arms, inviting her to come closer and holding her against my side.
“Has anyone seen Rick?He went off with Hersel.We were supposed to leave a couple hours ago” Andrea informs us.
“Rick told me he was going out” Carol replies, frightened.
Is it possible that no one knows where Rick is?
What happened to him and Hersel?
“Damn it.Isn't anybody takin’ this seriously?We got us a damn trail” Daryl gets agitated, freeing himself from our embrace and leaving me with Carol.
Heavy footsteps attract our attention.
Shane approaches quickly, on his shoulders I can recognize the bag full of weapons.
“Oh, here we go” Daryl exclaims reaching him.
I look around with a worried look trying to understand what is happening and only meeting other worried and anxious looks.
“What's all this?” asks the archer as soon as the ex-policeman reaches him.
His haunted gaze sweeps all our faces and then settles on Daryl again.
“You with me, man?” he asks him, pressing a rifle into his hands.
The two men stare at each other intently, warily.
“Do you want to keep your woman safe?” Shane asks, moving his hard gaze to me and then back to the man in front of him.
Daryl's fleeting gaze falls on mine, an indecipherable feeling in his beautiful blue eyes.
I shake my head imperceptibly trying to make him understand how bad this all is but his need to protect me is too strong so looking down with a silent apology he nods in Shane's direction.
“I'm with you, man”
So with a heart full of fear I can't do anything to stop them.
Shane is making a mistake and I can't stop him, especially if I don't even have Daryl's support.
Shane continues to gather support by handing out weapons to anyone who accepts.
Someone perplexed by the speed with which the situation could degenerate tries to respond.
“Look, it was one thing sitting around here picking daisies when we thought this place was supposed to be safe.But now we know it ain't” Shane speaks with agitation.
Being in charge of these people again seems to fill him with new energy.
He approaches Glenn handing him a rifle.
“How about you, man?Are you going to protect yours?” he asks him.
Glenn exchanges a fleeting glance with Maggie, his gaze full of displeasure but in the end he accepts the weapon that is given to him.
“That’s it” Shane replies, puffing out his chest proudly.
“Can you shoot?”
“Can you stop?” I interrupt him, trying to make him think for once.
I cannot stand still and helplessly witness the destruction of this group.
“Shane please listen to me.I know you don't like me but please try to think about it.If we do this Hersel will make us leave tonight.Please”
The man looks at me seriously, nervously running his hand all over his face, then grabs another rifle and forces it into my hands.
“What about you, huh?Do you really want to show that you care about being part of us?Join us.Protect us”
I don't have time to reply as Carl advances towards Shane.
“We have to stay, Shane”
A breathless Lori comes out from inside the house.
“What is this?” she asks nervously, focusing her dark eyes on the man.
The latter ignores her by answering Carl's statement.
“We ain't going anywhere, okay?Now look, Hersel, he's just gotta understand.Okay?He…well, he's gonna have to.Now we need to find Sophia.Am I right?Huh?”
Shane kneels in front of Carl.
How sleazy is this man?
Using Sophia's name just to gain personal advantage.
I feel the bile rising up my throat.
I slowly move closer to Daryl, searching his eyes.
“We can't Daryl.Please”
The archer doesn't even look at me, his stiff fingers tightened around his rifle.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Lori stand in front of her son.
Sighing resignedly to the archer's indifference, I approach to understand what is happening between Shane and Lori but I don't even have time to take a couple of steps when I hear walkers growling in the distance.
“Oh shit!” I exclaim, trying to make sense of what my eyes are seeing.
Rick and Hersel are dragging two walkers towards the barn with two snare poles, the young Jimmy waves his arms in front of them trying to attract the attention of those two monstrous beings.
Shane launches into a frantic race towards the newly arrived group.
We all start running as fast as we can.
“What the hell are you doing?” Shane shouts beside himself with anger.
Rick grunts with difficulty to hold onto the walker.
“Shane, just back off!” he gasps while Hersel groans indignantly at the sight of the weapons in our possession.
And his words do nothing but add fuel to the fire.
Shane moves as if he were in the grip of pure madness.
“Are you kidding me?You see?You see what they're holding onto”
Around us there is total chaos.
I look for Daryl in the crowd and without thinking twice I approach him looking for contact with his body.
The man in response grabs my wrist and moves me behind him.
His grip is nervous.
Shane and Hersel continue to argue, yelling at each other with escalating anger.
Until the ex-cop stops and pulls a gun from his trouser pocket.
“Hey Hersel, man, let me ask you something.Could a living breathing person, could they walk away from this?”
He then fires three shots into the walker's chest.
Each shot resonates in my head, making me grip the archer's shirt tighter and tighter, burying my face between his shoulder blades, my body shaking with shivers.
Shane continues to scream as he fires more shots at the walker.
Until finally I hear one last shot and a surreal silence descends around us.
I move away from Daryl's back.
Shane storms toward the barn.
“Enough risking our lives for a little girl who's gone!Enough living next to a barn full of things that are trying to kill us.Enough.Rick, it ain't like it was before!Now if y'all want to live, if you want to survive, you got to fight for it!I'm talking about fighting right here, right now!”
Now the man is out of control as he spits the words with an uncontrollable fury.
We all watch him helplessly while he grabs an ax and begins to break the lock that separates us from the walkers without stopping even with the repeated screams of everyone else.
For my part, I can't move, Carol next to me has a shocked expression.
My hand lets go my grip on the rifle to wrap around hers trying to give her some courage, the same courage I'm trying to muster for myself with all my might.
The situation has now completely degenerated.
“Shane, man, please don't do that!” Rick shouts, drowned out by the shouts of Lori and Glenn who try in every way to make the man reason but it's all in vain.
Shane grunts with each swing of the ax until the heavy metal lock falls to the ground with a dull thud.
Hersel and Maggie are kneeling in the dust, big tears streaming down their faces.
Patricia and Beth have a mask of terror on their faces.
Daryl and T-Dog raise their weapons in front of them ready to eliminate any threat while Glenn looks petrified, his arms hanging lifelessly at his sides.
Everyone else is simply too stunned to even move a muscle.
Slowly the barn doors open and the walkers begin to emerge from them.
A barrage of bullets hits them and even though the roar of the shots is deafening, the only thing I can hear are the subdued and heartbreaking cries of the Green family.
As I watch the bodies go down I can't help but think that each one was someone important to these poor people.
Dale walks past us with a shocked look and his mouth parted in a grimace of disbelief.
When the last shot rings out in the air, Beth's sobs soar with even more desperation.
Shane turns towards the man who is supposed to be his best friend, the two exchange a silent look full of mutual accusations.
Something has definitely broken between the two men.
The sound of shuffling feet coming from inside the barn captures everyone's attention.
The weapons rise again towards the large wooden doors waiting for the last walker to come out so they can put an end to it all.
After infinite moments a small figure appears.
A little blonde girl, wearing a blue t-shirt with a rainbow on it.
And even though I've never seen her I know who she is.
Without wasting time I forcefully grab the woman's hips, closing my arms in an iron grip around her waist.
Carol's scream is heartbreaking.
“Oh God!Sophia!Sophia…” sobbing Carol as she drops to the dusty ground.
My tear-filled eyes meet the archer's pain-filled ones.
The man drops his weapon on the ground, reaching us with two long strides and kneeling in front of us, he wraps his reassuring arms around both of us.
Unable to be strong enough for Carol I let out a soft cry too overwhelmed by the pain.
“Oh no no, Sophia.Sophia” Carol continues to sob.
I see Rick take a step forward and then another.
And another.
Until he reaches Shane's side.
The former officer puts his hand at his side and takes out his gun from his holster, watching helplessly as the girl advances and growls.
For a moment I can understand Hersel.
Even if the one in front of us is just a soulless monster, in our eyes she will always remain the sweetest Sophia, a sweet innocent soul torn away too soon and too violently from this damned world.
A sob shatters my chest, Daryl's hand immediately finds my face, caressing it with a disarming sweetness.
The click of Rick's gun makes Carol jump, the woman squirms slightly as if she wants to free herself from my grip and that of the archer to run to her little girl.
“Don't look” Daryl whispers in her ear and Carol obediently lowers her gaze, burying her face in his chest.
Horrified, I can't look away from Rick's movements.
I see his arm lift and point the weapon right at Sophia's head.
“Summer?”
Daryl's voice sounds distant, muffled, as if I'm underwater right now.
“Sunshine?Eyes on me”
His sweet command penetrates the bubble of pain in which I was imprisoned.
His head drops, hiding his tormented eyes from me.
And I'm sure he's fighting against his own feelings with all his strength to keep from falling apart, because he feels the visceral need to always show himself strong for the others.
Even though I knew it would happen, the echo of the shot makes me jump violently.
The tears now fall from my eyes without stopping.
“We were so close” I stammer between sobs.
“I know baby.I know” Daryl murmurs in a strangled voice, kissing my forehead and holding me close to him.
God, what are we going to do now?
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greatfandom · 2 years
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Daryl Dixon Re-Blog Masterlist ;)
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crazylilad · 2 years
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I'll do anything for you even if you won't love me back -Daryl Dixon X Y/N
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Hey guys! So this is actually an idea I had when cleaning my room a couple nights ago and just now got to write it. I never really thought I would write one shots but I have a few in mind that might start coming out these next couple weeks!
Please make sure to reblog if you enjoy this little idea I had! It helps a ton!
This is set in early season 7 during Negan's first visit to Alexandria!
Word count: 1448
Daryl Dixon had spent days in that tiny cell with no way to tell how long it had been. He spent most of his time in his own, dark thoughts; most of the time he thought of Glenn and Abraham, how if he had killed Dwight -who was now in charge of feeding and taking care of Daryl- none of them would be in this mess.
When Dwight suddenly took Daryl out of his cage of cement and shoved him in the back of a truck, Daryl worried this would be the last time he would see anyone ever again.
His mind wandered to Y/N, the way she had begged Negan to take her instead of him, how she had pleaded in front of everyone for him. Y/N had never begged before, had never stooped to such a low standard, but for Daryl it seemed she would do anything.
They had spent many nights in the same bed, away from the rest of their family and enjoying early mornings in one another’s arms. Although Daryl didn’t actually live with Y/N, who decided to share a home with Enid that way the teen wasn’t having to live on her own, he was over there more often than not.
Y/N was nice like that, always sacrificing what she had for others. All those moments spent together, that time on the road when he had pushed her away after Beth… The hours she spent patching him up and kissing his worries away. She never left his side, always checking up on him and making sure he was okay even when he couldn’t do the same for him.
Those were only a few of the thousand reasons why Daryl loved her. 
He closed his eyes, tears brimming at the edges while he hoped Y/N was okay, that the nasty bruise one of the saviors had left her when she went to kill Negan was gone. 
His fists clenched when he realized where they were, the color from his face draining when Spencer opened Alexandria’s gate for Negan. Rick had tried to speak to Daryl but was quickly shut down, Negan threatening to cut off parts of Daryl. 
But Daryl didn’t care anymore.
“Where’s that chick with the badass pocket knife? Her face all screwed after Mark hit her?” Negan turned around, a smirk on his face when he saw Daryl’s deadly glare. “She’s your girl, yeah? What was her name- Y/N right? Now she was beautiful! In fact,” He paused. “I wouldn’t mind makin’ her one of my wives.”
Daryl wanted nothing more than to choke the devil in front of him. But, the more he thought about it, the more he realized… Where was Y/N?
He followed quietly as Negan and Rick took a stroll around Alexandria, Negan continuing to speak about Y/N in front of Daryl like he wouldn’t lash out any second. 
Soon enough they had reached Y/N’s place. Rick didn’t meet Daryl’s gaze when he walked in the small townhouse, Enid passing by with some balloons in her hands and a pale face.
Negan chuckled. “Did you decorate this shit show?” He pointed to the white love seat with shoe stains and blood on it. “Now I know you didn’t think this was some nice pansy little chair!” Daryl didn’t give him a reaction.
That chair was something Y/N had forced him to keep, saying something about how even with the stains it was a gorgeous piece of furniture. He had to keep himself from snorting when he remembered the multiple dinners Enid and he had spent trying to convince her to get rid of it.
“Where’s her room?” Negan asked, whistling a tune as he raced up the stairs. Daryl’s heart nearly stopped.
“Neg-” Rick tried to stop him.
Dwight shoved Daryl up the stairs when he hesitated. Negan and Rick were already standing in the master bedroom, some saviors in Enid’s room taking whatever they wanted. 
“Where is she?” Negan asked Rick, who was too busy looking at the clean room. Daryl noticed there was a lack of weapons on their dresser and the bathroom was clean instead of having toiletries strewn on the counter.
Rick sighed, eyes glistening like he was holding in tears. “She- she didn’t make it back.”
Daryl’s heart stopped as he tried to think of what could’ve happened, why they could be hiding her away. Where are you, Y/N?
Negan whistled lowly. “Damn, the widow and her as well… how’d she die?”
A tear fell down Rick’s cheek. “She… she couldn’t take it all. Took her knife and-”
“Okay.” Negan stopped him. “I mean shit… in front of you all? With that stunt she pulled, I thought she would’ve greeted me with another knife, but instead she goes and offs herself? Now that sucks.”
Negan tossed one of the boxes that sat on their dresser to the floor and chuckled when pictures flew out, decorating the floor. 
Daryl swallowed when Negan bent and picked up the picture of Y/N and Daryl standing in their bathroom. Aaron had given Y/N a polaroid the night they had come to Alexandria and she had spent a lot of her time taking pictures of the group.
In this picture Y/N was in the deep green dress she had worn to Deanna’s welcoming party, the daisy Daryl had picked from someone’s garden in her hair. Daryl stood next to her, smiling down at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world while she drunkenly leaned against his chest.
Negan whistled. “Damn. I- I see why you like her. Or, I’m sorry, liked her. I mean- Damn! She’s fine.” 
Negan dropped the picture on the floor before pulling out one of the dresser Drawers. There sat all of Daryl and Y/N’s undergarments. They were all neatly folded, much different from the mess the two always kept it in, each promising to take care of it one day but neither ever got to it.
Y/N preferred her clothes mused instead of folded neatly. “It’s easier to find what I want that way,” she would tell Daryl. 
Daryl’s eyes wandered the room, his eyes falling to the floor when he noticed a stray picture. This one was of their room, the piles of clothes that sat in the corner were there, the bathroom door was opened, showing their organized mess. Y/N’s jacket she rarely ever wore was hung up on a hanger on their closet door where Daryl had put it the day before Denise had died. And, if that wasn’t enough, in bright red sharpie, HERE was written across the picture.
This was just taken, Daryl realized. She’s still in the house.
His foot moved to cover the picture as carefully as he could, freezing when he saw something under the bed move. A small hand moved near his bare foot, and he pushed the picture toward it, grateful no one was paying attention to him. 
Negan continued to throw drawers onto the floor, making a mess. It wasn’t long after that saviors entered the room and began taking what they wanted. 
Daryl was tossed around, always moving about and helping the saviors load things into their trucks. When he came back in, a savior was Shoving Y/N’s jewelry box into Daryl’s hands. 
Daryl paused when one of the saviors cursed as he dropped something and moved to look under the bed for it.
Daryl’s heart raced and he hardly had time to think before he choked out a cough and fell toward the savior, making the man focus on keeping his balance. The savior pushed Daryl to the ground, cursing.
The jewlery box broke into multiple fragments next to him.
“Damn fool!” The savior yelled as he landed a swift kick to Daryl’s ribs. 
Daryl gasped as the kicks kept coming, now on his back as well. He could’ve sworn his gunshot wound reopened. His eyes fluttered and he noticed Y/N pull her gun out, already planning on blowing her cover. He made eye contact with her, noticing the fear in her eyes. For him.
Daryl knew, then and there, no matter what happened to them, even if he was nothing more than someone to warm her bed at night, he would do anything for you even if you won't love him back.
And while he didn’t know it, Y/N thought the same thing, silently vowing to protect Daryl even if she lost her own life. Because, whether he returned her feelings or not, Daryl Dixon was the man she loved more than anything else.
Prompt: I'll do anything for you even if you won't love me back
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lady-phasma · 13 days
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Happiness at the end of the world
Chapter 3 of ?
Daryl Dixon x OFC
Warnings: 18+ MDNI; this is really different than anything I have ever shared on Tumblr before - it's fluffy and has lots of feelings and quite a few warnings; Smut, Not Canon Compliant, PTSD, mentions of past SA, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Daryl Dixon, p in v sex, ultra-Light Dom/sub
Summary a/n: I'm terrible at summaries, it's just more fluffy smutty stuff like chapter 2. No beta. 4.5k words.
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Kristina scrubbed her eyes with her fists and squinted at the sun light. They had fallen asleep, possibly overslept. Thankfully neither of them had a run planned. Daryl might have work detail, she wasn’t sure, but she had the day off. He would probably need to take Dog out soon. She yawned as silently as she could manage, not wanting to wake Daryl yet. She was surprised to find she had fallen asleep naked. He was still wearing his jeans. He was barely snoring but the soft sound made her smile. She snuggled in close to his side. One of his arms was flung above his head, the other draped across his chest. She put her head close to his arm pit, indulging in the guilty pleasure of how wonderful he smelled, embarrassed even though only she knew. She thought she might not care if he did know, he would probably like that she liked it. She curled next to him, took a deep breath, and slipped her hand under his on his chest.
He stirred just a bit, one eye opening to assess the interruption, then he swept his arm down and crushed her into his side. She smiled against his skin. The illusion of being small with him would never get old. She let her mind wander and relished being here, in the moment, no urgency. She savored it. Her thoughts drifted through the sleepy fog of memories from the previous night. She was more satisfied than she had been in years. She watched his stomach as he breathed, the sunlight from the window highlighting a few scars and fine blond hairs. It took all of her willpower to resist the impulse to touch them, move her palm over and down his stomach. The waist of his jeans was low on his hips, revealing the darker hair just below his bellybutton. Of course she noticed the bulge in his jeans. Her mouth watered. She suspected it wasn’t a particularly comfortable way to sleep.
Her lazy thoughts drifted through things she would like to do with him, to him, back to their present arrangement, and then to coffee. It was a luxury she had long ago learned to live without but this morning felt so normal, so like before, that she could almost smell the dark roast in the French press. An impromptu fantasy formulated in her mind’s eye of a world without walkers, Daryl in her bed in her last apartment. Laying with him on a Saturday maybe, windows open to let in the cool spring morning air. The smell of him, coffee, clean sheets, and the anticipation of toothpaste combined into a snapshot that made her a little melancholy. She let the thought of toothpaste guide her back to the present and wondered if he had any. He probably did, he had the basics most of the time.
She wriggled from under his arm. When she started walking to the bathroom she was very aware of her nakedness but didn’t cover up, just in case he was awake enough to watch her. She smiled to herself as she searched the bathroom sink and medicine cabinet for toothpaste. Fuck yes, she thought, as she picked up a flat, rolled up, tiny tube of the stuff. She never knew she would love it, miss it, so much. With just the tiniest spot of it on her finger she scrubbed at her teeth. Her toothbrush was at her place. She took her time, it was a lovely feeling, then sipped some water from the faucet and rinsed. She breathed into her palm, sniffed, and was satisfied that most of the morning breath was gone.
Daryl had at least one eye on her as she stepped out of the bathroom. He tried to play possum but she saw his eyelids flutter. She leaned against the door frame. If he was pretending then he would be curious when he didn’t hear the expected footsteps approach or feel the dip in the mattress as she got back in bed. Ha! There it was again.
“Playin’ possum, huh?” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“Huh?” he opened his eyes slowly but his lips made a tight line as he suppressed a smile.
“Yeah that’s what I thought,” she walked toward the bed. She tossed the toothpaste at him. “I’ll pay you back what I used and find some more on my next run. That shit needs to be a priority unless some hippie around here can make us some from tree bark and dandelions or some shit.”
He scoff-laughed and picked up the tube from the bed. She knew him pretty well, knew he wouldn’t care if he had water or not. In a pinch just the paste would do and she didn’t want him out of bed just yet. She stood at the side of the bed as he pushed his toothpaste around his mouth. No one ever looked dignified “brushing” their teeth with their finger. She waited until he was done and held out her hand for the tube.
“Wha?” he asked.
“Gimme and I’ll take it back to the bathroom,” she answered, making a grabbing motion with her hand.
“Nah,” he said, tossing the tube on the floor. “Com’ere.”
She blushed while she hesitated. She had wanted his attention, that’s why she hadn’t put on clothes. However, Daryl’s attention was intense, she kept forgetting that.
He put his hand out to her but he remained laying down. She gingerly stepped onto the mattress, using his hand for balance. She was unsure where he wanted her so she stood, one foot on either side of his hips. She felt a bit like an Amazon and didn’t hate it. He slid his hand out of hers, letting each finger trail down hers. His eyes moved slowly over her. Just before she was about to sit down or run or sink into a hole in the floor, he sat up and slid his hands up both legs from her ankles, over her calves, and cupped her ass. Their communication was simple, silent queues, pressure with fingertips, glances with eyes. She loved it. Some combination of his signs instructed her to kneel, straddling him. She did.
She shivered. It wasn’t a cold morning at all but she felt like all the heat in the room was now only where their skin touched. His grip on her ass never faltered. This helped her get to her knees gracefully instead of the careless, unsexy way she probably would have done on her own. He also wouldn’t let her sit back on her heels. As much as he was learning her, she was learning him and she had not moved her hands from her sides since he let her hand go. She was looking at him, shivering a little, and struggling to think of anything other than her bare pussy spread open exactly how he wanted it. She blushed a deeper shade of pink.
“Mornin’,” he said. Before she could reply he moved both hands in tandem to cup her ass cheeks. She bit her bottom lip. Then his fingers began to move between her thighs. One hand held her thigh from behind, the other found her pussy.
“Ya get wet real fast, huh?” he grinned. She nodded, lower lip still pinched between her teeth.
“How come?” he asked.
“Uh, you, uh,” she mumbled and gulped and remembered she actually knew words. “You make me wet. Thinking about you, looking at you, smelling you…” She trailed off. His eyes had flashed a little at the last one.
“Mmmmhm,” he responded. Then he started to move his fingers. The sensation of being played with from behind while looking at him made her knees weak and her mouth dry.
He pulled her legs toward him, for better reach, but she lost her balance a bit and steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders. She was now straddling his lap, her stomach almost pressed against his. He looked at her and slowly shook his head. As soon as she understood she dropped her hands from his shoulders and made an apologetic face. His face was unreadable.
Then his fingers parted her lips and pressed against her clit. He stroked back the full length and then forward again, stopping to dip into her and then out quickly to circle her clit. He repeated the motion. God she was dripping wet. His hands were rough and felt amazing on her sensitive skin, on her swollen clit. She had never been stroked in quite this way before and found herself once again admiring his instincts.
“Oh Daryl,” she moaned. “Oh shit you feel so good.”
“Yeah, ya like that,” he growled. “Ya want me to make you come?”
“Fuck, please,” she begged. She had started to sway with his rhythm and her back arched to push her hips closer to him.
“Nah,” he said as he pulled his fingers out. Her eyes flew open at the sudden loss of stimulation. Before she could protest she watched him lick his fingers, tasting her, and she moaned.
His other hand still held her in place. Her breasts were nearly level with his mouth and he leaned forward sucking a nipple into his mouth. She squirmed and his grip on her thigh tightened. He placed his other hand on her side, high up on her ribs, and pulled her chest closer. She felt off-balance and unsteady. Every sensation from his mouth and hands on her tugged at her cunt with electric strings.
“Daryl, please,” she moaned.
“Please what?” he immediately put his mouth back on her nipple.
“Can I please touch you?” she whispered. She wasn’t afraid to ask but was unsure of the answer.
An mmhmm vibrated from his mouth through her nipple and straight to her clit. Her hands flew to his hair and grabbed fistfuls. Her hands roamed everywhere without thought. She caressed his neck and shoulders, his chest, arms, anything she could reach while remaining upright. She kept her eyes closed and made a mental map of him. He had given both nipples attention as well as the sensitive skin under her breasts. The sensory overload forced unintentional sounds from her.
He hands rested on his upper arms. She couldn’t get enough of his biceps flexing under her fingertips. She didn’t grip to steady herself, she didn’t need to.
His mouth moved away from her and his hands began to slide to her hips, his thumbs pressed hard in the hollow of her hip bones. He understood how much she enjoyed that almost immediately the night before. He gently pulled down on her hips so that she was sitting on his lap. Her knees ached but she cared with only a small sliver of her mind. His dick was so hard that she gasped when her pussy came to rest on the zipper of his jeans.
Kristina took advantage of the permission to touch him and slid her hands to the back of his neck. She held his gaze while she moved close enough to kiss him but stopped just out of reach. He leaned in to meet her lips and she pulled back, teasing, grinning a little. She enjoyed having his lips just out of reach, sharing his air, watching his expression change from control to something like pursuit. She darted out her tongue and licked his bottom lip. He was faster than her. He pressed his lips against hers and tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. She moaned into his mouth as he released it. She wanted to learn every way he liked to be kissed, felt she could do that all day. She moaned again when he forced her mouth open with his tongue. He responded to her moans by gripping her hips and adjusting his.
His jeans were rough and delightful against her. She was almost sure they were soaked by now. She was aching and couldn’t imagine how he must feel. She wanted to make him feel everything, help him experience everything, she was impatient. As they kissed she moved her hands from his neck to his chest. She ran her fingers through the rough hair and avoided the scars she could remember with her eyes closed. She was learning as quickly as she could but sometimes part of learning was testing. She let her fingertips graze his nipple, her nails tracing the muscles of his pecs, and returned to his nipple. Each time she did, he moaned and slightly rolled his hips.
She didn’t want to be made to choose but this new information was intriguing so she pulled back from their kiss. She placed small, delicate kisses up the line of his jaw to his ear, and breathed hotly next to it. She increased the pressure of her fingers as she passed over his nipple again. Slowly, she told herself, don’t rush. She circled her other arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer. There was almost no space between them She loved this closeness. She got a bit braver and made gentle circles around his nipple. His short, quick breathes guided her. His head was in the curve of her neck and he was lazily sucking and kissing her neck and collarbone. She hummed, licked his earlobe, rolled her hips, and almost pinched at his nipple.
This was too much. Daryl grabbed her by the waist, moved her off his lap, and almost pushed her onto her back. He was hovering over her before her surprise had subsided. She giggled. She squirmed a bit, wiggling her hips and him, taunting him. Her giggles turned into quiet laughter at the look on his face. God it was endearing. It was a comical mix of delight and annoyance but with a trace of something like fear.
He began to smother her chest and stomach and hips with greedy, kisses, sucking and nibbling at times. Her laughter transformed into panting and moaning as he slipped a thigh between her legs. He ground the coarse denim against her as he kept kissing. When she felt his teeth she arched her back toward him, forcing her hips against his thigh. He groped and searched for her wrists while his kissing slowed. He brought them together in one hand and pinned them above her head. He raised up to do this and was looking down at her, hunger and need in his blue eyes.
Kristina defied him and raised her head to kiss his chest, reach her mouth almost a nipple. He pressed harder on her wrists, not painfully, and she dropped her head back on the pillow. She bit her lower lip in a challenge. He made a point to push his leg against her cunt as he moved off the bed. She knew better than to lower her arms. She had no idea what he was doing until he walked back into the room with one of his bandanas. He got back on the bed, straddling her. The cloth smelled of motorcycles and Daryl and earth as he wrapped it around her wrists. After he tied the knot he tugged on it and her arms moved but her wrists stayed together.
He looked at her. Just looked. She tried to make her face unreadable but the more she tried the hotter the blush felt. He got up from the mattress again. He assessed the scene and tapped the inside of one of her ankles. He was gentle but knew what he wanted. She spread her legs.
He nodded once, satisfied, and the rested a hand on the fly of his jeans. He held her gaze to ensure she was watching. He was insecure about almost everything about himself except his abilities to track and hunt. Only a day ago what he was doing now only existed in his imagination, nothing he could actually do. Kristina looked at him the way he looked at her. He wasn’t comfortable in his skin, might never be, but that seemed okay when he was with her. She didn’t expect him to be. Not that he thought she preferred he be some beat up mess but that it didn’t really matter to her or if it did at all it only made her enjoy him more. He always overthought, analyzed, tried to anticipate what would happen next. A survival skill he developed to dodge words and fists and pain. Last night he had moments when his brain took a break from the extra work, when his world was nothing but being wrapped up in her. He could do that as long as she would let him.
So with her he did things that scared him at first or made himself feel a little unhinged. He was sure her psychology shit had words for all that. The words didn’t matter to him. He just wanted to keep returning to that edge and finding out that he could go past it. And that he had someone who stood on the other side with her hand out, helping him. He rarely felt brave, he did what was necessary, but there was a small flicker of bravery when he pushed past the fear.
He watched as her eyes did what he wanted and followed his hand to his jeans. He cupped the bulge, pressed the zipper a little too hard against his dick, but the slight pain helped him focus. Once his jeans were unzipped his narrow hips couldn’t hold them up. He let them fall to the floor and stepped out of them. She licked her lips. He liked that a lot. He enjoyed being able to watch her shallow breathing in the sway of her breasts, how her belly rose and fell, close to panting.
He wrapped his hand around his dick and stroked, long, lazy strokes. Her eyes followed. He swiped the precum off the tip and she licked her lips again. Oh yeah? he thought. He leaned over the mattress and painted her bottom lip with it. Her eyes nearly closed as she slid her tongue out to taste it. Watching her enjoy that tugged at the base of his dick and he groaned through gritted teeth. He knelt down next to her, hand back on his aching dick, and licked at her nipples, her belly button, kissed her carefully above her pussy. He breathed in her smell. He wanted his mouth on her, to taste her, feel her with his tongue, almost as much as he wanted to fuck her. He had already moved his mouth away though. The very fucking last thing he ever wanted was to make her uncomfortable. He kissed her ribs, her arm pit, mostly to watch her squirm but also to learn all of her smells, kissed her elbow, and her curled fingers.
Her eyes narrowed as she watched him sit down beside her. He reached over and helped her sit up, her bound wrists making that action particularly difficult. Then he guided her over him while he lay back. She let herself be led. He positioned her straddling him, she was so easy to move like this, compliant, willing, but, most of all, enthusiastic about letting him take control. She sucked in a small gasp of air when he had her where he wanted. Her pussy rested on his lower stomach and his dick was hard against her ass.
He slid his hands in tandem over the insides of her thighs, let his thumbs brush her swollen lips, press into her hips, and continued up her sides, along her ribs, and then pulled her down onto him. Her arms relaxed with her wrists on the pillow just above his head. She felt almost weightless. The only part of her not supported by him were her knees. When he breathed she felt herself lifted with him, her breasts pressed hard into his chest. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips as he moved his hands to her ass. She liked being able to figure him out and not be too many steps behind. He wanted her to get used to letting him hold her up, feel safe.
Daryl kissed her cheek, her neck, her arm beside his head, and started to lift her ass. For a moment he knew it would be awkward and difficult for her but he had her. Having her lay on top of him was a wonderful feeling. For a brief flash he wished he could communicate that to her in words but then he focused on where his hands were. He had to strain just a little to reach behind her. He guided the tip of his dick into her hot, wet pussy, taking his time to brush against her clit before fully sliding in. Then he slowly pressed her hips down with his hands. She didn’t make a sound, she only breathed, her head tucked between them. Her breath was warm and almost damp on his chest.
He groaned enough for both of them. He adjusted his hips for a better angle and they both hitched in breaths. He didn’t know quite where to put his hands so he placed one on her lower back. When he brought his hips up he could keep her steady with that hand. She made a soft purring sound when he did that. He pulled out a little and slid back in, repeated, just to hear that sound again. His other hand searched her body as he rolled his hips. He wasn’t fucking her yet. He wanted to go slow as long as he could. When his fingers grazed the fold of her hip she twitched away from his hand but pressed her hips into his. He touched the side of her belly, she was so soft that he sighed, nothing in this world was soft anymore. He gently worked his hand between them, palm on her stomach, and circled her clit with a finger.
She pushed down onto his hand. She wasn’t in control of her body anymore. Her hips moved without her instruction, her arms were jelly beside his head, her mind was empty, and now every nerve in her body was either focused on her clit or his dick inside her. The slow, steady rhythm of his hips and finger were overwhelming. She wanted to grope and grab at something. Her hands clenched into fists. With her wrists bound she couldn’t touch anything. Her forehead was pressed hard into his chest and she was breathing her own recycled air in the space between them. He held her still with his hand on her back and couldn’t fuck him like every part of her ached to do. Panting, her eyes closed tight, she could feel her lips on his chest. Without thinking she bit. She knew it wasn’t hard, probably not even enough to bruise, but it was the only action her mind could find.
“Shit,” Daryl groaned, at first in surprise and then a wave of intense feeling ran from her mouth to his dick. His hips jerked as a reflex and she gasped. The place where she had bit him throbbed momentarily. He snatched his hand from between their bodies. He grabbed her with all of his strength and rolled them over. Kristina made a small oof sound and when he looked at her to make sure she was okay she was smiling. In one smooth motion he pinned her bound wrists above her head with one hand and swept one of her legs over his shoulder with the other.
He thrust deeper into her. He leaned into her leg as far as he felt he could without hurting her and put his mouth next to her ear.
“This what ya want woman?” he asked through gritted teeth, quickening his pace with shallower, faster thrusts. “Ya wanna be bad, that it?”
“Yes, oh god, yes Daryl,” she yelled. “Fuck!”
“Fine,” he growled as he lifted himself up enough to move his hand from her wrists. At first he gently slid his hand to her throat. She looked into his eyes and nodded. He squeezed and she rasped out a please. Just a bit more pressure and they found the sweet spot. Her breath was ragged and her eyes rolled back. He felt her leg wrap around him, pressing on his ass to push him deeper. His thrusts became more erratic as her muscles tightened around his dick.
He watched her face carefully as his orgasm started to tug at him. Her lips were parted, her eyes shut, and her cheeks flushed. She was so beautiful. Seeing his rough, tan hand around her pale throat nearly sent him over the edge. He didn’t pull back on his last thrust, he ground his hips against hers. He felt her groan in his hand before he heard it. Then he released her neck and her body rocked against him. Her muscles pulsed around his dick.
Her orgasm tore through her. She yelled his name and gasped. Loud, hitching breaths shook her chest. He let her leg slide off his shoulder, wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face in her breasts. His hips bucked against her. He felt her hands find his neck.The bandana strained against her movement. The sensation of the fabric on his skin made him moan a quiet, drawn-out fuck against her chest. He felt his cum pour into her. She wrapped her legs around him and held him as his entire body vibrated.
Kristina kissed the top of his head. She loved his smell and nuzzled her face into his hair for a moment longer. She felt his body relax on top of her. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her wrists, her cunt. His cum seeped out from between them before he pulled out. He slid his arms from underneath her and raised up to see her watching him. She held her bound wrists in front of her face. He didn’t think he had ever seen someone as beautiful as her in his life. He carefully pulled out of her with a small moan in his throat. He sat up and untied the bandana. He pressed his lips against each wrist. When he let her hands go she sat up and kissed him hard.
She flopped back down on the mattress, completely graceless. Daryl laid down beside her. She kissed his shoulder. It was so easy for them to forget what the world was like now. Walkers didn’t exist, they didn’t have to forage for toothpaste, potable water wasn’t a limited resource. Unfortunately this spell would break. They would have some daily tasks to do and normal human things to attend to but for a moment she enjoyed this small bubble of peace.
“Guess Dog’ll be needed some attention,” Daryl sighed. “Imma take him out and feed him. Ya want breakfast too?”
She smiled and nodded, her eyes half closed.
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celtic-crossbow · 3 months
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Stories from different universes and times that all have the same theme: Daryl Dixon is a werewolf. Based on the original universe created by @lazyneonrabbitt.
Tabby (OC) Bio
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Coming soon
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So I Live a Lie in the Light
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Long Live the King (King!Verse created by @lazyneonrabbitt )
©celtic-crossbow 2024. I do not allow for my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or placed on any other platform without my consent.
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ysoandi · 1 year
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Daryl: *accidentally brushes Y/N's hand with his own*
Y/N: *aggressively holds his hand* Fucking commit to it, Dixon!
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yoofte · 1 year
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I feel safe only with you.
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She was terrified and it felt stupid. In the world where dead people were walking and enemies hide in every corner, there she was, sitting on the bed with teary eyes and shaking hands. 
She was safe in their home, right next to sleeping Daryl and yet the storm outside made her feel like she would die in a second. Y/N knew it was stupid, but in moments like this, when the weather was almost crazy, she was back in her grandmother's house, where the old lady was panicking, telling her story after story about people dying because of storms.
She hides her face with covers, counting in her head, trying to calm down. It was so long ago and yet it still haunted her.
"Y/N?"
Fuck.
Now she feels guilty. 
"Go back to sleep," says Y/N trying her best to sound like she is fine. Like she wasn't crying for the past few minutes. "I'm sorry I woke you up."
Daryl sighs.
"You didn't and besides, I told you to wake me if storm comes."
"But you need to sleep."
Daryl hates how much Y/N cares for him. He wanted to make sure she felt safe, he wanted to be there for her, but sometimes he forgets she does the same thing for him. Yeah, it was the first time in two weeks when he was sleeping in his own bed, but it didn't change a thing about what he promised her two years ago.
"I won't be able to sleep if I know how scared you are."
He is holding her hand right now, trying to calm her down.
"I feel so stupid, I feel like... like..."
She cries, not able to even explain how fear of storms makes her feel stupid and useless. Daryl takes her in his arm, holding her, brushing her hair with his fingers. He is not upset or mad, he can stay in bed longer in the morning. It didn't matter to him at all. Everything he wanted was to make sure Y/N was fine. She was his whole world.
He is not asking her to stop crying. Daryl knows there's no use for that, so he only turns the little lamp besides the bed and reached for a book she had started reading earlier. His voice is calm when he begins to read, he holds her close, and soon her crying calms down just like the storm outside.
"Daryl..?" she stops him when he turned another page.
"Don't worry about the time."
"But it's late and you..."
He shakes his head.
"Daryl you need to sleep, you know that."
"Yeah, but I need you to feel safe, I won't be able to fall asleep if..."
"I feel safe."
"What?"
"I'm with you. I feel safe."
She smiles weakly at him, her eyes puffy from all the crying.
"Let's end this chapter, and we will both try to sleep, okay?"
"Deal."
"Daryl?"
"Yeah?" he asks again.
"I love you."
~
[request/ask box]
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harringtonstudios · 1 year
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council.
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plot: even with the world turned on it's head, somehow you find your way to Alexandria, and back to Daryl Dixon who seems to have a role in determining your fate. (set around s9)
word count: 5.8k of pure fluff divider credit: @firefly-graphics
note: hi i'm back! let me know your thoughts <3
Judith Grimes is a saint at the age of twelve. 
Her gunfire gives your group an opening while being surrounded by a herd of the dead, allowing a quick getaway. The herd seems to surge as you run off into the dense woods, rapidly growing in size and volume. The groans and scrabbling still make your skin crawl, even all these years later.
When you finally reach the clearing, Judith is standing there, casually leaning against a tree and you laugh. She gives you a stern look back and it feels like you’re talking to someone much wiser than their years on Earth, someone who knows more than you could ever possibly hope to. She’s calm and collected, even as she holds a warm pistol in her hand. 
Magna jokes about child soldiers, about artillery training. It stops being a joke when she whispers to you, “What kind of people would let a child go out on her own with those kinda weapons?” 
That’s when you notice the number of weapons Judith holds. There’s the obvious gun, another smaller one hidden on her belt. The sword, sheathed, hanging carelessly over her shoulder. The knives tucked in her jacket pockets. The brass knuckles that seem too big for her hands, poking out of her jeans. 
It’s odd. But before you can protest, the rest of the group is following little Judith Grimes to her people. 
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There’s an argument. And then another one. And then a third. 
Judith’s people don’t want you, just like you and Magna don’t really want them. The rest of the group seems to disagree, Connie throwing you harsh looks as Yumiko angrily mutters rationalizations to Magna. Luke’s been attempting small talk with a few of the others, but there isn’t much to be said. 
You’ve been thrown out of camps, been raided, left places. Done it all pretty much, and you can agree with Kelly and Magna when they emphasize, “We don’t know these people.”
“But they’re trading! There’s communities,” Yumiko stresses.
“We know what happens to places like that,” you mumble and one of Judith’s people gives you a look-over warily. 
The sun starts to melt into orange light, and Judith promptly stands up on the wagon they’ve been using and declares, “If they don’t come back, I won’t either.”
Luke smiles at her. 
Her group groans simultaneously and someone mutters, “Michonne won’t like this.”
You peek at Kelly, who gives you a shrug and Connie who signs, Good.
Magna is scowling, but you don’t really expect much from her. She’s trouble personified and with Yumiko so attached, hard to control. Anything you say earns you lectures from Yumiko, rants about privilege and the new world and using old biases. You hold your tongue a lot around the two of them, especially when it concerns Magna’s quick temper, or her ability to start problems with a facial expression, or the way she cannot help herself when she sees people’s things sitting around unguarded. 
“Okay,” you say.
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They make you give up your weapons almost immediately. There’s a protest from Magna, as expected, but then Yumiko’s reaching over and grabbing the knives from her sheath and everyone shuts up for a while. 
You watch them pocket Connie and Kelly’s slingshots with a chuckle and anger starts to burn quietly in your chest. 
The wagon isn’t too big, and even though half the group goes to ride in the car, it’s stuffy sitting in the back. There’s tension radiating off of Judith, off of the others now that you’re actually on the way to their compound. Luke’s rambling about some instrument he saved a couple years back and you’re politely pretending to listen while taking in your surroundings. 
There’s a path they seem to be following, avoiding the easy highways that your group has been traveling on the past few weeks. You wonder why they’re roaming around in the woods instead of on the clear streets, but then there’s a bump in the road, everyone jostles out of their seats and the thoughts fly out of your mind as you try to keep yourself steady. 
Judith’s smiling when you all settle back down, her eyes mischievous as she says, “We’re close to home.”
“What’s home called?” Luke asks. 
“Alexandria,” she proudly announces, voice strong and head held up high.
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The gates loom in the distance as soon as you get closer. It’s nightfall now, the sky too dark for you to be comfortable. Even in the wagon, you feel exposed and the lack of weapons makes you uneasy. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by in the apocalypse where you haven’t had a weapon of some sort on you. Hell, there hasn’t been a day since you were fourteen that you haven’t carried defensive items. At that time, it’d be pepper sprays or sharp keys, and then eventually an assortment of smaller accessible weapons, knives, brass knuckles. 
You hadn’t held a gun before the infection took over, but you’d held plenty of crossbows and other hunting instruments, so the learning curve hadn’t been complex. A true Southern girl down to the bones, good with weapons, excellent at tracking, and a survivalist’s wet dream in the horrible Georgian woods. 
Finding the right group had been easier for you than most. You’d stumbled upon Connie and Kelly during the main evacuation and quickly decided to stick with them. They’d been living in an apartment building right outside of Atlanta, and while the entire Georgian population started to rush into the city center, you three packed Connie’s Jeep and started driving into the outskirts. 
Quickly, the decision to leave Atlanta had proven itself. Within days, the city had become a massive hotspot for zombie activity, with the dead surrounding all major buildings. The streets were filled with screams and gunfire, sound radiating all the way to the countryside. 
You’d picked up Luke along the way, who’d been walking down the side of the highway grappling with heavy bags filled to the brim with instruments. He was a breath of fresh air in the immediate chaos, bringing positivity to your little crew. He’d also helped discover the shack you had holed up in for the first month, hidden partially by a thicket of bushes. It was a storage shack, evident by the various kitchen appliances stacked on top of one another and random boxes.
Your skills had proven useful instantly, with foraging and setting up various weapons that you’d tossed into Connie’s car. A week or two in, you’d been able to start canvassing the area, discovering other people camping out in different locations.  
At first, your instinct was to approach the others. People had set up tents, lit up fires, and would spend hours chuckling and conversing with each other. But the longer you spent observing them, you noticed a couple of red flags. They were almost always hostile to outsiders, edgy about their own supplies, tempers rising quick. People weren’t necessarily nice out here. 
Stumbling upon Yumiko had been a complete accident. You’d been observing one of the other groups, carefully leaning high up in a tree. As soon as the sun started to set, you’d jumped off and started the walk back to your own camp. A few feet in, you’d heard a whimper and quickly moved to see a woman lying on the ground, cut on her head, bleeding profusely. 
After a quick inner debate, you’d lifted the woman and then dragged her alongside you back to the storage shack. Kelly had called you, “Fucking crazy!” and Connie had thrown over worried looks before scribbling on her notepad Bit? 
You’d shaken your head no, and then locked eyes with Luke, who clearly knew you hadn’t checked the woman at all. He looked stunned at the blood, but then Connie had plopped the first aid kit onto a table and handed you a rag to wipe off the excess blood. 
Quickly, the three of you had gotten to work, with Kelly applying pressure and Connie focusing on the cut itself. Once the woman had been cleaned up, and bandaged to the best of Connie’s abilities, you did a scan, shifting aside her shirt to make sure she wasn’t bit. 
After ten minutes of laying her down on the makeshift beds you’d created out of rugs, she came to, eyes fluttering all around. 
“Magna?” she had asked in a distinct accent, voice croaky and dry. 
You passed her a water bottle, one of the few left from the original supplies, and quickly gave her an introduction, “I’m Y/N. I found you by the trees with a really bad cut. We fixed you up and brought you someplace safe.” 
“Did you bring Magna?” she had asked, slowly sitting herself up. 
“You were alone,” you murmured, walking over to balance her. 
“That’s impossible,” she scoffed and then put the water bottle down before attempting to stand up completely. 
“You can’t go anywhere. It’s already dark,” Kelly stated as you said, “You can find this Magna tomorrow. You need rest.” 
It had taken some more back and forth to convince her, but begrudgingly she had agreed to spend the night. That’s how you’d become fast friends with Yumiko. 
Magna had come along a couple of days later, found hiding out in some creek area by Luke when he went to the water source you all used to shower. She was brash and loud, almost angrily so, as if you’d done something to personally offend her. She was also one of the best fighters you’d seen, easily taking down some of the roamers without missing a step. 
Yumiko had come up to you that night and stated, “She’s coming with us. It’s not up for discussion,” and that had been that. 
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There’s a council already seated at the head of the room as you slowly walk in. People are milling around, with awkward smiles holding cups of warm chocolate while awaiting the meeting to begin. Someone offered you one as you walked in, but the uneasiness in your stomach was already twisting and threatening to come out without any drinks involved. 
In less than a day, a council was prepared to decide on whether or not you and your friends would be allowed to stay here. 
You hadn’t cared initially, been through too many camps to feel secure in one and been around too many people to feel comfortable around others that weren’t your family. But Alexandria was different. 
They had crops, and a watering system attached to a fully functional windmill. A doctor with a stocked medicine cabinet. Communication with other communities for trade and information exchange. Even a small jail cell, serving a purpose in this upside down world. 
It was incredible, almost a replica of a town in the olden days, before electricity and telephones, a place lifted directly from history books. 
In the night, the group had come together and discussed options. The consensus had been clear, five out of six had voted to stay in Alexandria. 
And so the mission had changed. Instead of asking for your weapons back and petitioning to leave, you were going to fight to stay. 
This was an issue of itself. Alexandria seemed extremely wary of outsiders, to the point where you’d been thrown outlandish looks from the residents and heard multiple hushed conversations about “the new people.” 
The leader, Michonne, had been angry at your arrival. She’d scolded Judith, yelled at the people who’d gone on the trip, and then proceeded to instruct you all to leave in the morning. Somehow, she’d been reminded of the ominous Alexandrian council, of voting rights, and you’d almost giggled hearing that. God, you hadn’t heard the word vote for almost ten years. 
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The rest of your group fills in, shuffling behind you. The atmosphere's palpable, tense where you all stand, council poise and alert, while the rest of the Alexandrians calmly chat in the background, as if this was just another normal day.
“Everyone take your seats,” a man pronounces. 
The council has eight seats, seven of which are full. There's an empty space right near the middle, and you focus all your attention on it, trying to stay neutral as people shuffle around papers. 
“Where’s Michonne?” you hear Aaron ask. 
Before anyone can respond, the door behind you opens and closes with a slam. You choose not to look over, keeping yourself steady and calm. If your anxieties start flaring up, this could be a disaster. 
“I’m filling in for her. Gave me permission. She’s going out,” a low voice grumbles out. 
His body comes into view, dressed in all black, closely resembling a combat outfit. He pulls the chair out and then sits himself down.  
Your focus shifts to his face, calmly inspecting the new addition to the group. His hair is long and dark, covering up almost all of his features. He’s unidentifiable, beard poking out, colored with a mix of soft gray and black. 
“Alright, this council will now be hearing out,” the pastor starts and you tune him out. Yumiko’s dealing with this entire ordeal, the only one with professional law knowledge. If there was anyone to impress, or anything right to say, she would know it. 
As you keep your eyes set on the stranger in front of you, his hand rises, sweeping his hair back from his face, giving you a clear view. 
Your breath catches in your throat. There’s no way the man in front of you is who you think he is. It seems more than impossible, but there are those striking blue eyes, that birthmark right by his lip. 
Daryl Dixon is sitting less than three feet away from you and it feels like you’ve just been tossed into tidal waves. 
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The story starts like this. You’re sitting in first grade with band-aids on your knees, eating orange slices. There’s a boy standing in the front of the class with chocolate smeared on his mouth and a grin, missing his two front teeth. He’s new, joining your class in the middle of the school year and you immediately start chanting his name with the rest of your class as a welcome, twenty six-year-olds raising their fists in the air, screaming, “Daryl! Daryl!”
A couple of weeks later, he trips and falls hard during recess. There’s tears in his eyes and his hands are scraped completely. You watch from the other side of the playground in silence as the other kids laugh. The next morning, you beg your mom to pack another brownie to give to, “the broken boy,” and she laughs. He smiles shyly when you plop it on his desk. 
In fourth grade, he brings a postcard to Show and Tell. There’s a big cartoon peach on it and scribbled writing on the back. He passes it around proudly explaining how his older brother traveled all across America in the summer. When the postcard comes to you, you see the words “little shit” in messy handwriting, and GEORGIA written in big block letters. During reading hour, one of the boys loudly whispers, “We live in Georgia. Your brother didn’t go anywhere stupid,” and Daryl pushes him so violently, his chair topples over. 
You don’t really talk to Daryl until eighth grade. Over the years, he’s gotten much quieter, reserved where he used to be outgoing, restrained where he used to be emotional. He blends into the background, and you kinda forget about the boy who used to start fights and scream when you were younger.
It’s an accidental friendship, starting after a group project that involves too many markers, awkward conversations between kids who’ve never talked to each other, and a presentation where it’s painfully obvious that everyone is a little too nervous.  
It turns out he likes the same bands as you, writes you notes during class with song lyrics and stories, starts knocking into your shoulders during lunch before giving you a quick smile as he heads off to the back of the cafeteria. 
He doesn’t have many friends, but then neither do you, and it’s easy to talk to him as you walk home together after school. You have no idea where he lives for a couple of years, just know that it’s somewhere in the same direction as your place, and so every day after last period, you wait by the fountain on the first floor for him, a routine. 
In high school, he shows up with bruises. It’s not uncommon, almost every guy gets into fights after classes, big crowds gathering by the parks, but he always walks you home right after school, and you know he isn’t fighting with the other kids. You ask him once, and he throws you the harshest look you’ve ever seen and tells you to, “Shut up.” It never gets brought up again. 
A week into sophomore year, he comes to school with a cast on his right arm. He can’t take notes, or even hold his backpack properly. His fingers look weird, and he winces when you touch the cast, but still laughs when you sign it with a stupid message in red Sharpie. He passes his unit tests with extremely high grades after using your notes, and then offers to buy you a milkshake one afternoon for all your help. You let him steal your cherry as you both sit on sticky leather booths in the local diner, discussing the latest music on the radios.
Junior year, you start dating around. It’s not fun at all, there are all these rules it seems like you have to follow. The boy doesn’t want you to hang out with Daryl, he likes it when you wear red lip gloss, wants you to dress in certain outfits. It ends pretty quickly after a date where he takes you to the movies and then tries to reach up your shirt in the dark with his sticky hands. You throw your soda on him before leaving the theater, and then spend the rest of the weekend crying in your room. Daryl shows up at your doorstep on Monday morning holding a cup of shitty coffee and lets you rant the entire walk to school. 
He’s your best friend until you go off to college and he ends up staying in that shitty town. You try to keep in touch for the first couple of months but it’s hard and then you’re busy with classes and trying to figure out a career and he’s calling you telling you about how he needs to bail his brother out and it all just feels like you’re living in two completely different worlds. One summer you come home and he has a splint on his left pointer finger, stitches on his cheek, and grease oil under his nails. He tells you that he hates living and you so badly wish you could take him away, hide him with you in your dormitory, and show him everything you’ve learned.
The next summer, you travel to California and don’t think about him once. Time and distance scrape away years of friendship. You can't remember ever having a fight with him, or a big blowout to end it all, instead the phone calls become shorter, the letters become far and few and one day, he seems to just fade into the background.
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The council asks for your names and Kelly elbows you hard in the arm, breaking you out from the trip down memory lane. You look at the pastor, murmur out your full name, and then immediately feel the heat of his eyes on you. You don’t look over, unsure of what to even say or do. You’re on trial somewhere he belongs, waiting on the mercy of his people, standing in front of him after the world’s become living hell and you’ve lost everyone. Finding him feels bittersweet.
The pastor asks a few more questions, but there’s a pit growing in your stomach and the feeling is overwhelming. You nod along with the others, pretending you’re still paying attention. It’s hard to even decipher the words when it feels like your brain is being scrambled, when your heart is aching and thudding against your chest. 
There seems to be a problem and the only way you notice is Yumiko’s fiery eyes turning towards you, slightly damp with threatening tears. 
They need a break. She signs over, and it’s clear she has more to discuss with the quickness of her hands. 
You follow her out of the building, feeling those damned eyes trail you all the way to the door. 
“We need to gain their trust,” Luke starts, leaning against the side of the wooden building. His voice is calm, and so is his demeanor, but you watch his fingers shake slightly. 
“That’s impossible! They clearly have an issue with outsiders. It’s not our fault or our business. Let them kick us out,” Magna raves, pacing back and forth. Her eyes are a little too wild, lips bitten raw. 
How do we get them to trust us? Connie signs with a worried look, furrowed brows. 
“We have to answer their questions. Properly,” Yumiko grits out, throwing a glance your way. 
“I’m sorry, listen I’m just not feeling the best honestly. This is way more than we bargained for,” you murmur, just as you feel a hand clasp your shoulder from the back. 
Time seems to stop. The others are suddenly clearing their throats, straightening out and eyeing the stranger with awful suspicion. You don’t even need to turn around to know who it is. 
Daryl Dixon’s hand is on your shoulder and suddenly, you’re in high school again, walking home after a long day. 
“Hey,” you almost whisper, turning around to face the boy who’s so clearly grown into a man. 
“Ten years and all I get is a hey,” he scoffs out, and even with the scraggly beard and the shadow of his hair reaching his shoulders, that mirth in his eyes burns as bright as it did in the past. 
“Hi,” you offer, laughing just a little. Everything feels incredulous, like a fever dream coming to life. 
“What are you doing here?” he asks, and this time the joy disappears, a darkness taking over that’s new and unexpected. His eyes scan over your friends before returning to yours.
You shrug after a minute of silence. There isn’t a real answer to give him and your brain can’t come up with anything witty in lieu of a response. 
There’s an awkward cough from Luke right before Yumiko gestures at Daryl and says, “You know him?” 
“I used to,” you murmur, and you see him nod in agreement. You know who he used to be, but this new Daryl with his scars, his stories, he’s someone else now. The apocalypse changes a person in more ways than one. 
“Can you help us?” Yumiko asks, voice clear. She’s not one to beat around the bush, but even you’re a little surprised at her blunt words.
“I’m not really on the council,” Daryl mutters, hand going up to rub at his head. 
“Can I talk to you somewhere in private?” you ask, interrupting Yumiko from saying something else. 
There isn’t much you can do, but Daryl knows more than he’s letting on, you can tell just by the way his voice wavers a little, the way he avoids your eyes. It’s clear he doesn’t trust the others, might not even really trust you, but even if it’s a shot in the dark, you have to take it for their sake, for a future. 
He nods, “I can take you to my place.” 
You fall into step with him, walking into the middle of a deserted road towards a line of suburban houses. It isn’t like before, he has a different type of walk, stealthy and intentional, not like those afternoons when he’d bump hands  with you, trip over his own feet with a backpack slung over his shoulders. 
He’s a stranger to you in the most unusual way. You can still tell when he’s lying, still understand the different emotions he expresses through those eyes, can even recognize when he’s uncomfortable just by the set of his shoulders. But now his voice sounds hoarse, his clothes fit differently. He doesn’t speak as much. 
He reaches a driveway and then glances back over just to watch you follow along. There’s a car parked on the asphalt, and the garage shutter’s slightly cracked open. Bending down, he grabs the shutter and pulls it up. 
There are tons of cardboard boxes inside, scribbled on hastily with Sharpie. The space seems infinitely smaller with the lack of space, and you step in, unsure of where to stand. 
He steps in, and then turns around and pulls the shutter back down, blanketing the space in complete darkness. 
“Fuck,” he grumbles and then there’s the sound of footsteps, a crashing, and finally the tinkling of a chain. 
The light flickers on, a single lightbulb hanging from the garage ceiling. There’s a few boxes tumbled over, items scattered over the floor. 
“You good?” you whisper, voice feeling unused and nervous.
“Mhm,” he grunts, furthering your unease. He doesn’t seem keen to start a conversation or even keep talking, and you’re supposed to be here securing a future home for your friends, your family. How are you going to convince a person who doesn’t care to be convinced? 
“How long have you been with these people?” you ask. If there’s a place to start, it might as well be the beginning. 
“Long before we found this place,” he says while crouching to sweep up the miscellaneous items into their boxes. You watch as he picks up baby bottles and blocks, simple things you haven’t seen in months. 
Before you ask another question, he murmurs out, “Look I don’t know what I can do. Michonne doesn't want you guys to stay. Told me I couldn’t trust the rest of the council to kick y'all out, told me I’d have to push for it.” 
“Do you trust me?” you breathe out, question falling from your mouth before you can stop it. 
“I did,” he says, looking up from the floor, eyes meeting yours as he finishes his sentence, “I don’t know if I do now.” 
“Okay,” you settle down onto the floor across from him. He’s back to picking up items, avoiding you as if that’ll somehow make you disappear. 
“Daryl,” you start and he freezes, “We’re good people. We didn’t come here to start fights, we didn’t even mean to come here. Judith saved us, and if this entire vote is going to lead to us getting kicked out back on that empty road, tell me now. I’d rather break their hearts than give them hope.” 
“Where were you?” he whispers, interrupting your proclamation, voice so small it’s hard to understand what he’s saying. His shoulders are hunched in, and his head’s facing the floor. 
You don’t need clarification on his question, “Atlanta. Connie and Kelly saved me. We had a rough couple of weeks before we found the others and then we just figured out how to survive. Kept moving.” 
There’s pain building in your throat now, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. The past hasn’t haunted you before, but seeing Daryl in this way has unlocked all the ghosts you’ve buried. 
“Merle’s dead,” he mumbles out with a sniff. 
You let the tears take over then, sitting on cold concrete under yellow light across from the person who’d known you more than you’d known yourself. 
Merle was a piece of shit anyway, and you’d spent more nights than you could count letting Daryl rant about his shitty behaviors, his useless quips, his abuse hidden under the guise of being a “big brother.” These tears aren’t necessarily for him, but more for the years gone by, for the loneliness, the loss of the people you used to be. 
“I made it quick,” Daryl barely gets out before his breath hitches and then you’re moving your hands over to where his are shaking. 
You grab his hand, let your fingers fall in between his, and squeeze. He looks up and your heart breaks. Daryl’s older and scarred, his beard fuller but right now all you see is the kid who begged you not to leave him behind, who spent hours in the woods with you shooting crossbows, who held you tight as you sobbed through heartbreaks and disappointments. 
“You can’t leave again,” he says, squeezing your hand back after you’ve both cried out your tears a few minutes later. 
“I won’t,” you wishfully murmur, leaning your head against his. 
He wipes his face and clears his throat, “I’ll talk to Aaron. He’ll understand the best out of all them.” 
You nod. Aaron’s kind, has been since the herd had you surrounded, and although he was frustrated with Judith, he hadn’t yelled, hadn’t argued and fought. Marks of a good man. 
“You need to answer their questions honestly,” Daryl continues, dropping your hand before standing up. 
“Okay,” you softly echo. 
“And pay attention,” he mutters, dusting his jeans off as he walks toward the garage shutters. 
You let out a laugh. Of course Daryl would know you hadn’t listened to a single word that was said over the past hour. 
You walk ahead of him this time, towards the building with the council, towards the people holding fate in their hands. The crowd’s mostly dispersed with people filing in again and Magna stands by the doorway, teeth gritted. 
“Where the fuck did you go?” she bites out and you resist the urge to deck her in the face. 
“I was talking to Daryl,” you reply and out of the corner of your eye, you watch him walk back into the hall. 
“So are we good to stay?” she asks and beneath the cruelness, you can feel her nerves. 
“He said he’ll try. We just need to be honest with them and answer everything,” you say while turning to walk inside. 
“Great. So he’s fucking useless,” she huffs and you stop mid-walk. 
“We’re all doing our best Magna. Why don’t you clean up your fucking act and try for once in your life?” you spit out, tired of her dramatics and her consistent ability to piss you off. 
She doesn’t respond, instead following you inside where the rest of the group is already huddled up by the front of the room. The council’s almost fully seated, with the exception of Daryl and Aaron who seem to be  talking by one of the windows. 
“Anything?” Luke asks, perking up at the sight of you. 
You shake your head slightly, “Gotta get this council to trust us.” 
“Great,” Kelly laughs, rolling her eyes before furiously signing over a conversation with Connie. 
Yumiko gives you a soft smile, “Hey, at least you tried.” 
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The council starts the session back off with a bang. Immediately, Magna is questioned about her prison tattoo and the hostility in her reaction doesn’t surprise you at all. The sudden calmness a second later does surprise you though, the way she breathes out before explaining the tattoo and her past in front of a room full of people. She’s cleaning up her act, just like you asked and you throw her a smile after she finishes.
The council’s wrath comes for Yumiko next, then Luke and then finally falls on you. The pastor takes a look at his notes on the table and then questions, “How many people have you killed?” 
It’s a weird question to start with. The rest of the group were asked about walkers first, but you push away the uncomfortable feeling and answer, “More than the rest of them. Maybe over seventy.” 
“People, not walkers,” one of the council squeaks out. 
You glance around before your eyes settle on Daryl’s guarded gaze. He nods imperceptibly and you continue with your answer, “I’ve been protecting my group from the start. We’ve run across dangers and people with bad intentions. In order to keep them safe, I would do whatever it took. I can’t give an exact answer, but if it came down to it, I would kill for my family.” 
“Would you kill us?” Aaron asks and you bring your eyes over to him. He seems content with your answer and curious. 
“To save them,” you say, and a murmur breaks through the crowd gathered in seats behind. 
The pastor holds his hands up, “Silence please.” 
You wince. 
Daryl licks his lips quickly once as if making a split-second decision and then states, “Y/N is good people. We all want to be loyal, save our families. It’s the only way we survive now. I would do anything for my family. I’d kill for them and I wouldn’t need a reason to do it either.” 
The pastor throws him a harsh look and you quickly mouth a thank you. Aaron coughs and once the attention is on him again, he explains, “Daryl’s right. I would kill for every single one of you. I have killed for you. These people are strong, but they’re alone. They don’t have our resources, our safety, our support. We can give them that. I have seen no credible threat from this group and I motion for a vote.” 
Magna scoffs under her breath and your eyes widen at her. Here’s what everybody has been fighting for and she still seems to have a problem. 
Luckily, the council doesn't seem to hear it. The pastor taps his hand once and then voting motions begin. 
You close your eyes tightly as the sounds of “Aye” and “No” fill the room, blurring together into a cacophony of noise. You don’t want to see the faces of these councilmembers as they choose whether you stay or leave. 
“The votes have been cast and with 5-4, the Ayes have it. This group will be allowed to stay in Alexandria,” the pastor exclaims, with a tone of  hesitation. 
Your heart beats against your chest, the pulse jumping throughout your body. You open your eyes to see Connie and Kelly hugging, Yumiko glancing over at Magna with joy in her eyes and Luke’s wide bright grin. 
Kelly grabs you, and quickly the small hug becomes a group one, your family surrounding you. You bury your face in Yumiko’s shoulder and let out a burst of new emotion as hands squeeze at you. 
“You did it,” Yumiko whispers into your ear, her tears dripping onto your cheek. You sigh at her affirmation, let the hug ground you back to Earth. 
As you take a deep breath, you lift up your head, connecting your own eyes to those beautiful blues. He has the faintest hint of a smile on his face, mischief written in his irises. He’s here, and he’s alive and this time, you won’t ever dare to leave him behind. It’ll take some time before you can claim him as your best friend again, but with that look in his eyes, you know that he’ll always have your back, no matter what. 
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crystlizabeth · 10 months
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Back to You
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Paring: Daryl Dixon x Blackfem!reader
Warnings: non canon events(Glenn, Abe and Sasha are still alive), Sleeping with the enemy(negan x reader mentioned), swearing, pregnancy,(this is kinda based of of my selfinsert hehe), swearing, slight angst, dramatic reunion. Oc put in place of Abe and Glenn. Non canon time line based on a span of 4-5 months.(not proofread)
Summary: after making a deal to keep friends alive you leave with Negan, a plan came in store sleep with the enemy get information, after escaping your body isn’t taking the pleasure of carrying a baby.
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Everything happen so fast, who knew thing could go so wrong. After that night you where alone, they had taken Daryl they kept him loading him up like an animal. You would have done anything to get him back alive with his limbs still attached. It wasn’t long till everyone started discussing what to do next how to go on, serve him, provide, and work around Negan.
“So what do you think, Y/n?” Michonnes voice snapped you out of thought.
You looked up, everyones eyes on you. “You want me you sleep with the enemy…” you spoke.It was smart, he had taken a liking to you, it was for your friends right, for Daryl. Make the enemy vulnerable get him to need you, and thats what you would do. A grammy winning performance for sure he never saw past you.
But that would come with consequences, heavy consequences. Sitting on that stupid table. Carson trying to get a response out of you but nothing came from you finally choking up the words were.
“Are you sure.”
He looked at you his brows frowned, he responded with a weak nod. “I am, you mentioned that you weren’t able to. So I understand the concern but youre pregnant.”
The months went by and sure as hell you where, by the time you had started showing Daryl had gotten out. He knew that the baby wasn’t his, but he didn’t hesitate to try getting you to leave with him. He begged you but you couldn’t it would be to obvious, Negan would kill till he got you back it would be to dangerous. And the both of you going missing at the same time would just make it obvious.
“Daryl you have to go, leave with Jesus. Please baby i can’t go with you, not yet.” You pleaded to the man as he held on to you.
“I cant just leave you here, Darlin’ come with me.” He began once more.
“Daryl you need to go now.” You said pushing him slightly, the sound of saviors causing you to panic.
“Imma take ya home, promise.” He said pulling you in for a kiss, it lingered before he pulled away.
“I know you will.”
He left quickly, you slipping back inside quickly enough to not be seen by any of the saviors. After that moment it wouldn’t be at lest another month till you would escape. You had gotten weaker the baby was practically eating you alive that and just your body wasn’t ready nor prepared to cary a child.
Dwight helped you as much as you hated the guy, he made a promise he was able to slip you out before everyone arrived to attack the place. When you got to thw gate he instructed you to follow behind the building where she would meet her friends. He didn’t go but gave you back your knife and a gun. You did as that not really having to worry about any walkers thankfully.
Rounding the corner you were meet with a few familiar faces, “Glenn..” you spoke his body quickly ran over to you carefully taking you in a hug. You felt your body relax being in a friends arms opening your eyes you saw Rosita and Abraham with him, Glenn released you letting you attend to one of you best friends.
Rosita hugging you tightly giving you a kiss on the side of your face, “God ive missed you..” she pulled you away looking you up and down slightly her brow frowning slightly.
“Are you okay, you look like shit.” She stated
You couldn’t help but letting out a laugh, nodding letting her know you where just fine. With that you left they told you that you were to meet others then go on with the plan someone would take you to the kingdom. You didn’t know where that was but assumed it was an ally, an ally that had doctors to say the least.
You and Rosita continued hand in hand her not wanting to let go of you she wanted to keep you safe. That final building you saw him.
He stood there fucking with his bike as normal a cigarette hanging form his lip. “No shit.” Sasha said causing Daryl to look up following her gaze.
He stood up so fast throwing the cigarette to the side. You did the same letting out a soft cry as you ran to him, he slowed himself slightly before taking your body into his arms lifting you off the ground. Tears came down your face hugging him tightly you let yourself cry, cry in his arms. Pulling back simply cupping his face giving him a kiss, multiple kisses stopping to let your foreheads meet. You flet him start to break down his body going down slowly letting you fall on your knees as he cradled you. 
He pulled away getting a good look at you “Darlin’ you look sick..” you could hear the protectiveness in his voice, he thought maybe the we’re treating you badly not feeding you giving you the thing you needed that they had. But that wasn’t the case and you explained that to him. You could see the hurt on his face how this was something he couldn’t save you from keep you safe and healthy.
“Lets get you to a doctor..” he said picking you up with him.
“D’ you have a job to finish it can wait I promise…” you spoke you hand on his chest, his blue eyes looking at you pushing you to listen but god knows that wouldn’t be the case..
“Lets go for a ride, yeah?” You said smiling at him.
He nodded, you said you hellos giving hugs to the rest before everyone departed. Rosita making sure your were fine and that she could take you, you declined saying that you were staying with daryl. He got on the bike quick to help you on, you arms wrapped around him a simple tap to the leg to remind you to adjust your footing.
He could feel your bump against his back it was small but noticeable, his hand grabbed your off his torso kissing it before taking off. The side of you head laid flat on his back, you could only think how he could seem so forgiving. You were carrying a child that wasn’t his and he seemed to be fine with it practically ignore it. He had told you that he would hold this against you but you felt that he should that he should be angry with you.
But he wasn’t angry with you, but Michonne and Rick for suggesting and putting you in that position. It was a life or death situation for your family, plus a whole lot of fucking details from the inside. You both had soon arrived at the kingdom the ride there being that comfortable silence you both enjoyed. He helped you off walking you in to an amazing surprise you saw Morgan holding you dog by his collar soon letting go for the animal to run up to you.
God knows you needed that reunion, your pitty charlie had been with you since the beginning and taken care of you. Daryl quickly got you up after petting the hell out of the dog, “Mon’ lets get ya checked out..” he spoke as you linked your arm with his.
Laying on that table the nurse had told you what you already knew, “you aren’t producing enough vitamins for you and the baby so they’re simply eating you alive, it’s nothing to bad just means you be on bed rest for the rest of your pregnancy once you hit your second trimester. And from what I see it not that far.”
You couldn’t help but look at her “bed rest, I dont have fuckin time for that..” you said leaning up on your elbows.
She shared a glance with you of knowing that “but you dont really have a choice, you iorn is really low so are your sugar levels. Eat more fruits and greens, not to much sun, okay? Dont make this pregnancy harder for yourself then you have to.” She stated honestly.
You slapped you hands against your face sliding them down in irritation, sifting your head you looked and daryl you had a slight smirk on his face.
“Now you have to listen.” He said.
You groaned as he helped you off the table. “Why didn’t she use that scany thing?” He asked.
“I dont know could be they dont have the power right now, she listened to the heart beat and poked around she didn’t seem to concerned which means she seen shit like this before.” You spoke, as you walked with him. He was very curious asking if i knew the gender yet even going out suggesting a few names.
“I dont know the gender even though i am far enough to know wanna keep the thrill for after this shit show yeah?” You laughed lightly, you looked at him kissing him a soft tender kiss.
“I missed ya..” you said before giving him another kiss.
He engulfed you into his arms moving your legs around his waist as you sat on the bed, “I missed you more, i missed your touch n how ya kissed me, the sound of your voice n the random shit that would come out of it..” he confessed.
Your thumbs ran over his cheeks keeping eye contact till you placed small kisses all over his face. “I have 13 hours left before they need me again.” He said you heard the grumble in his tone causing you to laugh lightly.
“Well baby how ‘bout you get some good sleep.. Rosita was planning on coming and getting me and taking me to hill top with Maggie..” you said your hand pulling him down with you on the bed.
“The two pregnant ladys huh? Good bonding.” You let out a snort at him.
“Go to sleep, they need you, God knows I need you right now.” You said moving to your side.
You head laid on his chest arm laid over his chest, his arms moved you to face the other way spooning you his arms holding you securely.
“I love you..” he said his lips touching the back if you neck.
“I love you too.. Goodnight love.” You said kissing his hand.
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quartzwhortz · 1 month
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𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 | 𝖘𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖉 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖔𝖓𝖊
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moodboard for the latest update
find it on wattpad and ao3 <3
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lilyevanstan1325 · 3 months
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❤️ Built For This World ❤️
Chapter 9
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My head hurts like a bitch.
My breath rises laboriously down my throat, coming out in trembling sighs from my ajar mouth.
I've been locked in Dale's RV for hours now and I don't plan on going anywhere, not until I'm sure Carol is okay.
Just as I am certain that my friend will never be okay again.
Never again.
A deafening silence surrounds us.
With my arms folded over the small table and my head resting on them I cast yet another worried glance in Daryl's direction.
The man is sitting on the sink counter, right next to the vehicle door.
Our eyes meet for a fraction of a second then he drops his gaze on the rifle he still holds in his arms.
We've been going like this for hours.
It's as if he feels guilty and can't keep his gaze on me, it's as if he fears seeing the disappointment in my eyes towards him because he feels personally responsible for what happened to Sophia.
I can see the anger and the pain eating him up from inside.
Even if only partially, I understand what he is feeling.
Daryl poured his heart into this research and now he feels like all this failure falls on his shoulders.
Sophia's death was a heavy blow for everyone.
Carol continues to sob and with each sob my heart breaks more and more.
Out the window I can see the others at work.
Some are digging holes while the others are moving the bodies.
I bury my face in my crossed arms again.
Old pains inside me seem to awaken, making my guts twist in a painful way.
It's as if in a fraction of a second, in the infinitesimal time that that damned bullet ended Sophia's life, all my demons resurrected from the dark place of my heart where I had buried them.
Even though I didn't have the time to get to know and love that little girl, I feel like I've lost someone important again.
Her death broke another small portion of my heart.
Nothing will be the same.
Carol will never be the same again.
Daryl will never be the same again.
And I know how selfish it is of me to worry about something like this but her death will inevitably change my relationship with these two people.
I feel like I've lost a mother for the second time.
A soft whistle makes me lift my head.
Daryl is looking at me intensely, in his eyes a concern that goes beyond human comprehension, in his eyes there is perhaps too much pain for a single soul.
“Ya good?” he whispers, his voice hoarse, speaking to me for the first time since he joined Carol and me in this RV.
I shrug weakly before immediately returning my attention to the woman in front of me.
Carol sitting on the bed and looking out the window doesn't even seem to notice our presence.
Her gaze is fixed and absent as if her mind is light years away.
And I feel fucking helpless.
Helpless in this such immense pain.
I think back to my mom, I think back to the day I had to say goodbye to her.
The knowledge that I will never see her smile again, that my ears will never again be able to enjoy her sweet laughter, hits me with such violence that it makes me breathless.
I think back to the last time I saw my father, I think back to the fact that I couldn't say goodbye to him...
A wave of tears gathers in my eyes forcing me to hide my face in my arms again.
Trying to hide the sobs shaking my chest, I bite my tongue until it bleeds.
A hand brushes my shoulder and then a strong arm wraps around them and I find myself with my face pressed against the archer's chest.
“Shhhhh.Everythin’ will be fine, sunshine” Daryl whispers in my ear, trying to gently silence my crying.
I feel terribly guilty.
What right do I have to cry?
Who gives me the right to suffer when in front of me I have a woman who has lost her little girl?
I feel like a monster and this only makes my sobs increase.
I try to suffocate them forcefully by burying my face in the man's chest and crumpling the fabric of his shirt between my fingers.
“Hey” he murmurs in a faint strangled voice, also wrapping his other arm around me, drawing me towards his body and taking me into his arms, he makes me sit on his lap.
I'm sorry to make him worry about me too but I can't help but feel happy for his closeness at this moment.
I should be stronger and be the one ready to console but in this moment all I can offer to Carol is just my presence, I can't do more.
I finally look up at Daryl's face who, despite being destroyed by pain, gives me a small smile, just a corner of his lips raised.
“Hey” he repeats cupping my face in his big hands.
“It will be fine.Now we have to be strong, alrigh’?”
I nod imperceptibly before his lips caress mine with such sweetness that it makes me tremble.
A light knock on the door makes us jump while Carol on the other hand doesn't even seem to notice.
After a few moments the door of the RV opens and Lori steps in.
The woman looks exhausted, her swollen and red eyes rest on me for a moment.
She doesn't seem surprised by my closeness to Daryl as she sketches a shy, tired smile in our direction after which she lets out a shaky breath as she lowers her gaze.
“They're ready.Come on” she exhales as if these few simple words had drained her of all energy.
I know what her words mean.
And God only knows how much they hurt.
My attention immediately shifts to Carol.
The woman shakes her head slightly without moving her tormented gaze from the window.
“Why?” she whispers.
Her voice brims with resignation.
Daryl beneath me shifts slightly, tightening his grip on me.
“’Cause that's yer little girl” he replies softly as his worry-filled eyes move to the woman.
Finally Carol's gaze turns towards us and the harshness I see within them scares me.
“That's not my little girl.That's some other…thing” she says, choking on her own words.
Then she lowers her gaze again, looking back at the field outside the RV.
For a moment no one speaks, perhaps too shocked by the cynicism of her words.
I can't understand her.
I didn't see my mother turn into one of those monstrous beings but I'm sure that even if it had happened, I would have wanted to witness her burial.
I would still have given her a last final goodbye.
“My Sophia…” Carol whispers in a breathy voice.
“My Sophia was alone in the woods.All this time I thought…” her words are just a quiet murmur as she fights her own tears.
“She didn't cry herself to sleep.She didn't go hungry.She didn't try to find her way back.Sophia died a long time ago”
I can feel Daryl tense up.
The resigned words of our friend crumbled the man's last bit of self-control.
I can feel the anger, the anger at not being able to find Sophia in time, boiling under his skin and crashing in waves all around him.
Lori, head bowed, steps back out of the RV.
I need to do something so without thinking twice I get up from my little safe haven and join Carol with a couple of determined, almost furious strides.
The man's determined footsteps sound behind me but when I turn around he is no longer there.
All this is definitely too much for him and, rather than bursting out and threw up all his disappointment, he has decided that it is better to let it go.
I stand in front of the woman, my hands resting on my hips and a thousand words that continue to boil into my head.
I breathe in and out slowly trying to calm my heartbeat.
“Carol, you can't be serious” I begin, trying to keep my emotions in check.
Now it's not about me but about her.
And I care enough about her to stop her from doing something I'm sure she'll regret in the future.
The woman doesn't even look at me, her stubborn gaze far from mine.
She shrugs as if to tell me who cares.
Softening my gaze and my posture I sit on the bed next to her tapping my knee on hers.
Slowly and with a sigh she turns in my direction, her large shining eyes making my stomach tighten in a vice.
I don't think I've ever seen so much pain reflected in the eyes of another human being.
Losing someone you love is always painful but losing a daughter...
I don't think there is a greater pain.
No one should ever feel such sorrow.
I lost my mom, my dad, my life...yet I survived.
Yet I still fight.
But Sophia…she was her flesh and blood.
Every breath she takes hurts right now and will do so for every single day she lives.
Even though she will be surrounded by people who love her she will never love anyone else like she loved her sweet little girl.
And it is precisely for this reason that Carol must give her a final goodbye.
“Carol I won't pretend to understand how you feel right now, really.But you have to do it.You have to get out of here and say goodbye to your little girl”
The woman shakes her head, a few tears escape her control sliding down her cheeks.
“Listen to me.That may not be your little girl out there but her spirit is still here.Give her the peace she deserves.Sophia deserves to rest in peace and she will never be able to do so if her mom doesn't let her go”
The words get stuck in my throat but I continue undaunted, even ignoring the woman's sobs which slowly grow in intensity.
I grab her hands and squeeze them in mine.
“You're not alone, Carol.You have Daryl.You have Rick.And Dale, and Lori, and Glenn.We are all here for you.I'm here for you.You have me”
I lift her hands still clasped in mine to kiss her knuckles softly and stop fighting my own tears.
“I am here.I know that nothing will ever fill that void but I'm here.Maybe you don't even care but if you give up...I need you Carol.If you don't say goodbye to your sweet little girl today you will lose yourself...I will lose you”
A sob shakes both of our chests at the same time.
I sniffle, wiping my tears against my own shoulder.
“If it wasn't for you maybe I would still be tied up in that stable or Shane would have already broken my neck.You are all I have left.Please Carol…I've already lost my mom…I can't lose you too”
I know it's sound so fucking selfish.
I know I should think of her best.
But…but I've already lost so much that I don't know if I could get through this too.
By now we are both crying without any restraint.
Both heartbroken but for two completely opposite reasons.
Then through tears and pain Carol nods.
I smile at her weakly through tears.
“I will be with you, step by step.I'll stick so close to your ass that you'll end up hating me.But you will never be alone.Never” I tell her, drawing a light laugh from her which is immediately suffocated by yet another sob from her.
I let go of her hands so I can hug her.
I hold her head against my chest, stroking her hair.
Carol presses her face against me and I let her vent, welcoming all her tears, all her pain, hoping to make it a little mine and lighten this painful load on her soul.
When we arrive near the trees where the holes were dug for Sophia and Hersel's family, there is no one left.
Hesitant Carol approaches the smaller mound of earth, kneeling in front of it.
Without disturbing her, I kneel next to her, stroking her back in a reassuring manner.
Carol lowers her head, sinking her hands into the freshly loose dirt, crying all her tears, giving vent to all her pain.
“It's okay, honey.It's okay” I try to reassure her when the tears seem to take her breath away.
Footsteps come from behind us.
Daryl clears his throat before dropping to one knee alongside Carol.
In his hands he holds a small bouquet of Cherokee roses.
I smile at his sweet gesture.
“Do ya want…”
Carol shakes her head vigorously, interrupting the man.
“Would you do it for me?” she croaks in response.
Daryl doesn't have to be told twice and, standing up, places the flowers on little Sophia's grave with unprecedented delicacy.
When he stands up, his gaze rests on my face for a moment and then immediately lowers it and turns his back on us.
Even though the contact between our eyes was brief, I managed to catch the glimmer of his tears.
Making sure Carol is okay, I get up, brushing the dirt off my knees with my hands and with a hesitant step I approach the man's back, placing a hand on it.
Daryl gasps violently without turning so determined to respect his wishes I don't look for his gaze.
I just hug him from behind, intertwining my fingers on his abdomen.
His chest rises and falls rapidly.
He is crying.
And for the umpteenth time today my heart breaks.
I rest my cheek on his back trying to offer him the only thing I have at the moment.
My love.
Because yes, it may be crazy, but I feel like I feel something for this man that goes far beyond the simple attraction.
Because, surrounded by all this pain, I understood that if I had been the one to lose him, I wouldn't have tolerated it.
Today with the discovery of Sophia's now dead body I clearly understood that I cannot lose him.
“I'm here, big boy.I'm here" I whisper kissing him between his shoulder blades.
In response, his calloused fingers intertwine with mine and his breathing slowly slows, his body relaxes.
Daryl Dixon is all I have and I will always protect him.
I will forever protect his pure and tortured soul.
Behind us, a rustle of clothes followed by a timid voice brings us back to the present.
I slowly release my hands from the archer's and focus on Carol again.
A sad smile flits across her face as she stretches her arms in my direction.
Without having to tell me anything I give her what her eyes are asking me.
I hug her and even though I'm shorter than her I welcome her head against my chest.
Her arms envelop me while her voice, made hoarse by her tears, murmurs a small thank you.
Carol raises her head and waving a hand behind me she whispers “Come here, pookie”
After a few moments, Daryl's chest is pressed against my back.
All three held in one embrace.
All together as a family.
Because now we are a family.
We may not be connected by blood but something much stronger unites us.
We chose each other and we will protect each other as long as we have breath in our bodies.
After making sure Carol was okay, I begged Daryl to never leave her side and to come find me if there were any problems.
“Hey, I can handle her.Go” murmurs the archer, squeezing my upper arm with his hand and after kissing my forehead he moves away and sits a few steps away from Carol who is kneeling again in front of her daughter's tomb.
I really want to stay here and not leave her but I need to go check on Rick.
The desperation painted in his eyes after he pulled the trigger haunts a part of my brain.
His lost gaze wandering aimlessly as it fell on every person gathered around him is seared into my mind.
With a determined step I head towards Hersel's big house.
When my feet touch the first steps of the porch I feel a shiver shake me.
The house seems quiet when I walk through the door so looking around I head towards the kitchen but halfway I bump into a figure who quickly tries to reach the back door.
“Ouch” I hiss, running my hand over the bandage over my eyebrow as Glenn wraps a hand around his nose, his eyes bright from the impact.
“Where are you going in such a hurry, buddy?” I peep, pressing my fingers over the white gauze, underneath I can feel the slight pulsation from the stitches.
Glenn moves his hand away from his face, sniffing.
“Sorry Sum.I'm catching up with Rick.We're going to look for Hersel” he replies, trying to dodge me to reach the door.
I follow him, following his every step.
Hersel?
Why?
What happened?
“Glenn!” I get his attention by grabbing his hand.
The boy stops his run, finally resting his eyes on me.
“Beth seems to be in shock and we can't find Hersel anywhere.Rick and I are going to the bar downtown to look for him”
I nod once.
“I'll come with you” I offer immediately.
Even though a big part of me is screaming at me to stay here, to protect Carol, to stay by Daryl's side, I know I can't do it.
A little voice in my head keeps telling me that right now I'm an outsider and that I can't intrude on these people's pain so any distraction is welcomed.
And looking for the vet, being able to move away from here, seems to me to be the most suitable solution.
Glenn shakes his head as he grabs a rifle from on top of an old coffee table.
Before he can argue I place the flat palm of my hand against his mouth.
“I'm not asking your permission” I wink and, watching him while he snorts resignedly, I follow him through the back door.
Once outside we find Maggie leaning with her back to the wall and her arms crossed in front of her chest.
Smiling at her I leave them alone as I approach Rick.
The former officer doesn't even look at me but I can see a corner of his lips lifting into a sly smile.
“I bet you'll join us” he murmurs with a nod towards the car.
“Obviously.In fact, I'm offended that you didn't come looking for me.Do you really think I would have let you go alone?” I reply in a light but serious tone, giving him a playful shove.
Rick chuckles under his breath.
“Do you have a weapon?”
“I have my knife”
“Take this” he replies handing me a gun which I accept without replying.
I know that the use of guns must be strictly necessary due to the noise but nowadays it is better not to be caught unprepared.
“Does Daryl know?”
His question catches me off guard, making my gaze move from the weapon I hold in my hands to his face.
His clear blue eyes are focused behind me.
“He's not my fucking nanny” I huff, following the direction of his gaze.
My lips curve upwards.
“They're cute, aren't they?” I chuckle, returning my attention to the man next to me.
Rick smiles and then directs his glittering gaze of mischievous into mine.
“Yeah.You and Daryl are cute too.This is why you have to tell him where you're going because I don't want to catch an arrow up my ass”
I blush at his statement but intending not to show it I put on a cooky smile.
“Your ass is safe, cop.Let's go” I urge him, getting into the car while Glenn joins us with his shoulders down.
Rick sits in the driving seat while Glenn sits next to him, I sit in the center of the back seat so I can have a good view of the road and the men in front of me.
The journey proceeds in silence.
None of us speak perhaps too lost in our mental ruminations.
Too many things happened today and all too quickly.
Shane lost his mind.
We have all lost it.
Heavy words were flown and after all this I don't know if the group will ever go back to how it used to be.
Glenn continues to fidget on his spot.
Rick sends me worried looks through the rearview mirror, looks to which I respond with constant shrugs.
I honestly can't understand what's going on in my friend's head at the moment.
When the outlines of the buildings in the city appear on the horizon Glenn breaks the silence that surrounds us.
“Maggie said she loves me” he suddenly blurts out, turning his gaze towards Rick.
I smile radiantly.
“That’s great, Glenn” I laugh, leaning forward and placing a hand on his shoulder.
Glenn looks back at me but his face is serious.
Too serious.
Wait.
“That's a good thing, right?” I ask now unsure.
I certainly didn't expect such a detached reaction from the delivery guy.
If I had been in his place, if Daryl had said he loved me, I think I would have jumped out of my own skin.
The thought makes me blush and I chew my lower lip.
Glenn lets out a nervous laugh.
“She doesn't mean It.I mean she doesn't.I mean…well…she…she's upset or confused.She’s probably feeling like…” he exclaims, speaking hurriedly, the stuttered words rolling off his lips quickly.
“I think she's smart enough to know what she's feeling” Rick interrupts, eliciting a confident shake of the head from Glenn.
“No, no!”
Rick and I smile amused by his reaction.
“No it does not.You know what?She wants to be in love, so she's…she needs something to…to, like…to hold onto” continues the boy undaunted.
I can understand him.
Nowadays, becoming so attached to someone, even falling in love, is always a big risk.
We may never live long enough or even worse we may helplessly witness the death of those we love.
I understand why he tries to push away her feelings.
After all, how long has he known Maggie?
He knows her just a few days longer than I know Daryl.
I understand how the magnitude of such a huge, sudden feeling can catch you off guard.
But that doesn't mean it's right to reject it, on the contrary we must live it as much as we can because if Sophia's death has taught us anything it is that nothing lasts forever anymore.
Then it's best to bask in what little love we have left in the little time we have left.
“Glenn, it's pretty obvious to everyone Maggie loves you.For everyone except you of course, you stupid hassole.And not just because you're one of the last men standing” I encourage him, resting my chin on the seat where he sits.
Rick nods as if he agrees with every single word I say.
“I mean what's the problem?” I add softly.
Glenn looks out the window as if he's trying to coax the right words into his confused head.
“I didn't say it back”
“Shit” Rick and I exclaim at the same time.
I rise from my position to rest my back against the soft leather seat crossing my arms over my chest.
“Oh man.You fucked up” I tease him by pushing the sole of my boot against his seat.
“Hey!” he exclaims, turning his torso in my direction.
“I was nervous, okay?I've never had a woman say that to me before.You know, except for my mom, of course, and my sisters.But with Maggie, it's different.We barely know each other.What…what does she really know about me?Nothing!We're practically strangers”
The words slip out of my mouth before I can realize it.
“So?Even I barely know Daryl but I love him anyway”
When my words hit my own ears I curse myself.
I look down at my crossed arms chewing my cheeks nervously.
Why the hell did I say that?
God, I wish right now a chasm would open up under my stupid ass and swallow me.
A loud laugh resonates in the cockpit making me blush even more, I can feel my blood rushing through my veins violently.
I risk a look in front of me, finding Glenn's sly smile and Rick's bright and attentive eyes staring at me from the rearview mirror.
“Not a word, dumbass” I mutter, making both of us laugh this time.
Rick shakes his head with an amused expression and then turns his attention to the man sitting next to him.
“Listen to me, Glenn.This is a good thing, something we don't get enough of these days.Enjoy it.And when we get back, return the favor.It's not like she's going anywhere.And…”
I can feel Rick's smile as he turns his head ever so slightly in my direction.
“Same goes for you Summer.Tell Daryl how you feel”
Determined to ignore him I refuse to meet his gaze, he's too amused for my tastes.
“We're not talking about me.Keeps driving, sheriff” I murmur with an angry frown as the man slows down, having now reached the center of the city.
I don't like this attention towards me.
After a few minutes Rick pulls over the car and looking around, making sure the road is clear of dangers, we get out of the car and go into the bar that Maggie had suggested.
The room is dark and dusty.
Under my feet the dark wooden floor, matching the chairs and tables, creaks.
Rick proceeds slowly and Glenn, after a final glance towards the street, closes the door behind us.
Hersel is sitting on a stool right in front of us, his back to us while his arms are resting on the counter, in his hands he seems to be holding a glass full of an amber liquid.
After everything that's happened, I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't like a drop too.
“Hersel?” Rick calls him cautiously.
The man doesn't flinch, he doesn't move.
He doesn't seem at all surprised by our presence.
“Who's with you?” the man asks without turning.
His voice barely holds back the agonizing pain.
For him we are only the murderers of his family, we are the people who turned his peaceful life upside down.
“Summer.And Glenn” replies the former officer remaining still.
“Did Maggie send them?”
“They volunteered.They're worried”
Glenn and I exchange a look, leaving Rick to resolve the matter.
Slowly Rick approaches.
I grab Glenn's hand and indicate with a nod to one of the tables, the furthest from the two men but the closest to the windows at the entrance, so as to be able to leave the right amount of privacy to the two men but close enough to keep an eye on the situation outside.
Rick and Hersel's words are just a low murmur so I take the opportunity to talk to Glenn.
“Hey!What happened after…” I don't finish my sentence, Glenn knows what I'm referring to.
What happened after Rick shot Sophia.
Glenn glances at the counter and then brings his big dark eyes back to me.
With a slow movement he places the rifle on the table, running his hands through his hair.
“Shane accused Hersel of knowing that Sophia was in the barn and now he wants us out of his land”
“Shit”
“Yeah, shit”
“And you?What do you think you will do?” I ask even though deep down I already know the answer.
“What do you mean?" he whispers in response, avoiding my gaze.
One corner of my lips lifts.
I gently place a hand on that of the boy in front of me.
“You know what I'm talking about”
Glenn shakes his head, removing his hand from my grip and crossing his arms over his chest.
I can feel the confusion in his mind from here.
“I honestly don't know”
“Are you sure?”
“Maggie will never leave her family”
“I know”
“And I can't leave mine” Glenn sighs heartbroken, finally deciding to bring his frightened and lost gaze back into mine.
“Glenn, we are not your family”
I immediately stop him with a wave of my hand when I see his gaze darken, offended by my words.
“I don't mean that.Yes, it's true we are a family but she is the love of your life.How do you think I can ever live in peace knowing that I took you away from her?None of us could stand it, Glenn.But she has her father, Beth, Patricia, Jimmy.They have a safe place and I...I would be much calmer knowing you were there than in the middle of that shit out there” I try to make him think while I point the way outside with a finger.
Glenn sighs, closing his eyes and leaning back in the chair, his fingers wrapping around the locks of his hair, pulling them tightly.
The situation he finds himself in is not easy because, putting myself in his shoes, I am sure that, even though the choice would make me suffer, I would choose to follow the person I love.
I would choose Daryl.
“If Daryl asked you to give up everything and everyone, would you do it?”
I nod again before Glenn finishes his question.
He looks at me with a skeptical frown, I smile back at him.
“This doesn't mean I don't care about you but I'm sure I'll never find such a great love again.How could I leave him behind?”
Glenn seems to reflect on my words even though his furrowed eyebrows indicate that an ocean of conflicting emotions is still churning within him.
Some footsteps catch our attention and when we look behind us we see Rick approach the door of the bar and open it, Glenn and I immediately go alongside him to understand what is happening.
Rick shakes his head dejectedly but he seems to think about something so he turns back to the vet who still stubbornly turns his back on us.
“So what do we do?Just wait for him to pass out?” Glenn asks on the doorstep.
“Just go.Just go!” Hersel silences us.
Rick takes a couple of steps in his direction.
“I promised Maggie I'd bring you home safe”
Rick barely keeps his calm as he tries to reason with the man who in response snorts amused.
“Like you promised that little girl?”
His words take us by surprise with their wickedness.
He must be really upset, Hersel isn't like that.
But before Glenn and I can avoid it, Rick reaches the man, his nervous footsteps sounding loud and confident on the old wooden floor.
“So what's your plan?Finish that bottle?Drink yourself to death and leave your girls alone?”
“Stop telling me how to care for my family, my farm” Hersel blurts out, slamming the empty glass on the counter and finally deciding to get up and face Rick angrily.
“Your people are like a plague!I do a Christian thing, give you shelter, and you destroy it all!” he shouts while gesticulating senselessly but Rick doesn't seem intimidated by all that anger.
“The world was already in bad shape when we met”
“And you take no responsibility!You're supposed to be their leader!”
“Well I'm here now, aren't I?”
The two men are now shouting at each other.
With the tip of my boot I hit Glenn's foot, silently asking him if we shouldn't intervene before the situation can escalate further or, even worse, their screams can attract unwanted attention.
Glenn raises a hand as if telling me to wait.
In fact, after a few moments Hersel seems to calm down and regain some lucidity.
“Yes.Yes, you are” he sighs, staggering towards the stool and collapsing onto it, after which he grabs the glass and takes another sip.
“Come on” Rick urges him again with an authoritative voice but this time with a little more sweetness.
“Your girls need you now more than ever” I whisper moving closer until I reach the man, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Hersel looks at me with his deep blue eyes with a storm reflected in them.
“I didn't want to believe you” he says, dodging my hand violently but keeping his gaze fixed on mine.
“You told me there was no cure, that these people were dead, not sick.I choose not to believe that.But when Shane shot Lou in the chest and she just kept coming, that's when I knew what an ass I'd been, that Annette had been dead long ago and I was feeding a rotten corpse!That's when I knew there was no hope.And when that little girl came out of the barn, the look on your face, while you held her mother in your arms, I knew you knew too.Right?”
His words freeze my blood in my veins.
I remember that moment.
The moment I realized it was all over.
That there is no more hope.
That all hope died the moment Sophia stepped out of that damn barn.
The sweet vet's eyes are filled with tears just like mine.
Behind us Rick and Glenn seem to be holding their breath.
“There is no hope, Summer.And you know it now, like I do.Don't you?”
I put a hand on my chest trying to contain the pain that this man's words are awakening in my old broken soul.
A solitary tear escapes my control, eliciting a bitter smile from the man.
“There is no hope for any of us, Summer” he sighs, turning his back on me again.
My gaze shifts to my two friends who are looking at me helplessly while I sink into my own pain but...it is thanks to they worried gaze that I find the way back to myself.
I approach and position myself between them.
“It's not like that Hersel.Maybe...maybe a week ago I would have agreed with you.I was alone.Scared.I was ready to die alone.But then…then I found them” I murmur, smiling sweetly at the two men.
“I found friends”
I smile in Glenn's direction.
“I found a brother”
I say with more and more conviction, touching Rick's hand.
“I found love”
And I feel my heart explode thinking about the gruff man who must surely be worrying waiting for my return.
“I found a family.I have found hope again”
This time my voice sounds strong and confident around us.
“And if you can't see the beauty and the wonder and how God is so immense to still grant us these joys in this dirty, depraved world I feel sorry for you Hersel.I'm really sorry”
Glenn wraps an arm around my shoulders, leaving a kiss on my temple.
Rick squeezes my hand and then approaches Hersel in a last tired attempt to make him reason once and for all.
“Look, I'm done.I'm not doing this anymore, cleaning up after you.Do you know what the truth is?Nothing has changed.Death is death.It's always been there, whether it's from a heart attack, cancer or a walker.What's the difference?You didn't think it was hopeless before, did you?Now there are people back at home trying to hang on.They need us even if it's just to give them a reason to go on, even if we don't believe it ourselves”
Rick wearily runs a hand over his face, nerves on edge.
This discussion is wearing him down.
He believes in what he says.
He truly believes there is still hope.
And I believe it too.
“You know what?This…this isn't about what we believe anymore.It's about them.It's about Beth.It's about Maggie and Glenn.It's about Summer.It's about my pregnant wife.Now it's only about the people we love, the people we want to protect”
Hersel remains silent, visibly affected by Rick's words.
He stares at us for a few interminable seconds and then after drinking the contents of the glass to the last drop he stands up.
I smile encouragingly in his direction as Rick squeezes his shoulder affectionately.
Suddenly the door behind us creaks and two armed men appear in the doorway.
Damn.
We were so distracted by ourselves that we didn't stay alert enough.
After a quick look inside the two men focus their gaze on me making me shiver.
Glenn notices this and slowly, almost casually, grabs my wrist and moves me behind him.
“Son of bitch.They're alive" one of the two men sneers.
Both seem quite strong and this makes me suspect that they belong to a large and resourceful group.
They're basically a fucking danger.
They approach one of the tables while Glenn and I slowly move behind the counter.
Rick, feigning courtesy, approaches the table, pouring them both a generous dose of the same liquor that Hersel was drinking.
“I’m Dave” one of the two men introduces himself.
He is very tall, with short hair and a look that is too attentive for my tastes.
He is wearing an old pair of dark jeans and his arms are left exposed by a sleeveless t-shirt.
Around his neck he wears a gold chain that clashes terribly with everything else.
His fingers tighten around the butt of his gun.
His dark eyes rest on me again, looking me up and down and then winking in a way that in his fucking mind should be attractive.
I gag mentally.
In response I roll my eyes while Glenn stiffens, moving the rifle in his hands in order to get the guy's attention.
Dave continues with his rant as if nothing had happened.
“That scrawny-looking douche bag there is Tony”
Tony is a man with a stocky build, the t-shirt he wears pulls over his prominent abdomen.
“Eat me, Dave” Tony laughs, a loud, disgusting laugh.
“Hey, maybe someday I will” replies his friend, grabbing the glass and drinking, his eyes close as if he were tasting a fine liqueur and not a third-rate alcoholic drink in a worn-out bar.
I look around noticing the tight smiles on my friends' faces.
We have to find a way to get out of here without these bastards following us.
And even though none of us are visibly interested in the two of them, Dave continues to tell his story.
“We Met on I-95 coming out of Philly.Damn shit-show that was” Dave chuckles and then he goes back to staring at me intently.
From behind the counter Glenn grabs my hand and squeezes it forcefully, a clear signal to tell me to stay calm and play along.
Glenn laughs, thus diverting attention from me.
“I'm Glenn.It's nice to meet some new people”
“Rick Grimes.This is Hersel” Rick murmurs, passing a glass to Tony.
For a few moments a strange silence fills the air and then Dave's eyes are on me again, specifically on my boobs.
The man licks his lips, adjusting the crotch of his trousers in an absolutely disgusting way.
“How about you, sugar.Do you have a name?"
Tempted to respond with my innate sarcasm, I bite my tongue and count to ten.
With my face devoid of any emotion I force myself to speak but before I can do that Rick precedes me.
“She's my sister, she's got a name.And she's got a pretty rough husband.A man with a little problem of self-control, try to stay in yours, okay?”
This time the kindness is completely gone as he slowly hisses the words.
I shrug in response as Dave returns his gaze to me as he drinks the entire contents of his glass.
Him and Rick exchange a strange look, full of tension, then the man holds out his gun towards Rick.
“Not bad, huh?I got it off a cop”
“I’m a cop”
“This one was already dead” the man justifies himself even if I have the clear impression that this isn't true.
Then silence falls again.
The air around us crackles with a strange electricity, just like when the sky fills with clouds waiting for the storm that will sweep everything away.
Rick pours himself a glass of liquor too, displaying the right amount of nonchalance.
“You fellas are a long way from Philadelphia” he murmurs with his lips touching the edge of the glass.
His Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows.
“It’s feels like we’re a long way from anywhere” replies Dave.
Apparently he is the brains of the group.
His friend, Tony, simply nods and looks furtively around.
“Well, what drove you south?” Rick asks politely.
My foot begins tapping nervously on the floor as anxiety rises up my stomach.
We have to get out of here.
Glenn, noticing my nervousness, places a hand on my back, caressing it with small circular movements.
“Well, I can tell you it wasn't the weather.I must've dropped thirty pounds in sweat alone down here”
“I wish” Tony chuckles but his friend goes on ignoring him, as if he hadn't even opened his mouth.
“First It was D.C., I heard there might be some kind of refugee camp, but the roads were so jammed, we never got close.We decided to get off the highways, into the sticks, jeep hauling ass.Every group we came across had a new rumor about a way out of this thing”
Well apparently they're not doing well out there.
Right now the farm is the only safe place and we need to make sure it stays that way.
“One guy told us there was the Coast Guard sitting in the Gulf, sending ferries to the islands” adds Tony nodding absently.
“The latest was a rail yard in Montgomery running trains to the middle of the country…Kansans, Nebraska”
“Nebraska?” Glenn asks genuinely confused.
Tony nods.
“Low population, lots of fun” he adds with a wink.
“Kinda makes sense” Glenn replies.
“Ever been to Nebraska, sugar?”
I sigh in frustration, pinching the bridge of my nose between two fingers.
I'm starting to lose my patience.
“Summer.My name is Summer, no sugar.Summer” I hiss, immediately adding “Anyway, no, never been to Nebraska”
“I like you, Summer” he replies languidly and then adds “Anyway there's a reason why they call 'em flyover states.So...how about you guys?”
“Fort Benning, eventually” Rick replies indifferently even if knowing him what he passes off as indifference is nothing more than a warning.
Smart move.
Well done Rick.
Tony and Dave exchange a look followed by a chuckle.
“I hate to piss in your cornflakes, officer, but, um…we ran across a grunt who was stationed at Benning.He said the place was overrun by lamebrains” adds the latter.
Glenn and I exchange worried looks.
This means that things outside are worse than we thought.
But we can't worry about that now, our problem now is these two idiots.
“Wait, Fort Benning is gone?Shit.What will we do now, big brother?” I ask in a worried tone, turning to Rick and hoping to sound convincing enough even if my anxiety isn't entirely fake.
If Hersel is still convinced of the idea of sending us away we will be in shit.
The real shit.
Rick gives me a reassuring look.
“Sadly, I am.Oddly, the truth is there is no way out of this mess.Just keep going from one pipe dream to the next, praying one of these mindless freaks doesn't grab a hold of you when you sleep”
For a moment Dave's words seem to weigh on all of us.
Even on him.
Tony gets up approaching the counter and turning his back to us we can hear the sound of a zip followed immediately by a loud noise.
Tony is practically pissing two steps away from us regardless of anything.
Disgusting bastard.
Dave settles into the chair, spreading his legs and clicking his fingers on his gun resting on the table.
“So what…so what, you guys set up on the outskirts or something?” he asks almost with disinterest.
Jackpot, jerk.
One corner of my lips lifts.
It was more than obvious from the first moment that these two are trying to get to this point.
Instinctively I tighten my fingers around the butt of the gun I have in my jeans pocket.
I have a sixth sense that this isn't going to end well.
“That new development?Trailer park or something?A farm?” adds Tony still busy with his personal business.
We all exchange a warning look as if to imply that whatever happens we must keep our mouths shut.
The heavy silence seems to capture Dave's attention.
“You got a farm?” he asks, exchanging a long look with Rick who, without betraying any emotion, remains silent.
“Is it safe?You got food, water?” he insists with a sly look.
His dark eyes move over each of us, perhaps looking for the weakest of us from whom he can extort the much sought-after information but he is interrupted by his friend who, lifting his zip, turns towards us and exclaims “You got cooze?Ain't had a piece of ass in weeks.Excluding yours, sweetheart”
The man finishes the sentence by winking at me.
I return his gaze, filling my own with obvious disgust.
Dave scolds him with a look, a silent warning not to screw this up, and then he raises his hands in front of him with palms facing me as if he's apologizing.
“Listen, sorry my friend.City kids…they got no tact.No disrespect.So...listen, Glenn...”
Now at the limit of my patience, I come out from behind the counter, ignoring the warning glances from my friend and positioning myself next to Rick.
“We've said enough.Rick maybe it's best to leave” I say with firmness in my voice.
Rick nods slightly.
Good.
Now we have to make sure they don't follow us.
Dave stands up.
“Wait, hang on a sec.This farm…it sounds pretty sweet.How about a little southern hospitality.We got some buddies back at camp, been having a real hard time.I don't see why you can't make room for a few more.We can pool our resources, our manpower”
Rick shakes his head but before he can speak I anticipate him.
“Look, we're sorry.That's not an option”
Dave and Tony exchange a brief but significant look.
My words definitely pissed them off.
Dave puts the gun in the back pocket of his filthy jeans and then smiles at us.
“I don't see the problem” he adds, trying to convince us.
They don't know that they are playing with the wrong people.
I know this type of men, the sanctuary was full of them.
They will have no scruples.
I know how they think.
“Sorry, we can't help you” Rick's words are calm but peremptory.
There is no fucking way for what they think to happen.
“I thought, ya know…I thought we were friends.We got people we gotta look out for too”
Rick shrugs at Dave's words.
“We don't know anything about you” Rick explains simply as if this were enough to make them understand the reasons for our refusal.
Dave shakes his head and sighs.
“That's true.You don't know anything about us.You don't know we've had to go through out there, the things we've had to do”
“We too did things that had to be done, even if we didn't want to” I interrupt him, tired to play fast and loose.
I'm tired now and this makes the tension only increase.
“Oh, I know.I know, sugar.We are all the same.So come on, let's take a nice friendly hayride to this farm and we'll get to know each other”
Fucking prick.
Rick smiles.
And I swear that if I didn't know him I would shiver from head to toe.
That smile of his is dangerous.
“This is bullshit!”
Tony becomes agitated at our side while he places the rifle on his shoulder with one hand.
The man is sweating profusely, a clear sign that he is losing patience and this does not bode well.
And in fact as soon as Rick tells him to calm down the man completely loses his composure and starts screaming.
“Don't tell me to calm down.Don't tell me to calm down.I'll shoot you four assholes in the head and take your damn farm”
“Whoa” I exclaim approaching the man with the gun clutched in my hand.
Rick behind me tries to pull me towards him.
Dave also tries to calm things down by telling everyone to calm down.
I remain still in my place, feet planted firmly on the ground and the gun in front of me.
“Take it easy.Nobody's killing nobody" Dave exclaims, placing a hand on Rick's shoulder and then leaping over the counter.
I don't move an inch, I just lower the barrel of my gun and look behind me where I see Dave placing the gun on the counter and ducking behind it in search of something good to drink, continuing to repeat that no one will die today and that we are friends.
Yeah, kiss my ass moron.
Rick's hand twitches towards his gun.
An imperceptible movement but I can see it.
Without being too dramatic, I turn towards Hersel who, with a small nod of his head, lets me know that he is fine.
Glenn, on the other hand, appears much more agitated.
His haunted gaze moves quickly among everyone present and then settles on mine.
I'm good I mimic with my lips and a bit of tension seems to leave his rigid shoulders.
“You gotta understand” Dave sighs as he pours himself a glass of liquor.
“We can’t stay out there”
“I miss the part where this is our problem” I hiss giving him my full attention.
The man doesn't seem irritated by my words, in fact he smiles.
“Listen man the farm is too crowded as it is.I'm sorry.You'll have to keep looking” Rick tries to mediate, throwing at me a hard gaze, imploring me with his gaze to keep my mouth shut.
Dave nods.
“Keep looking” he murmurs with his lips pressed against the rim of the glass, taking a moment to swallow the amber liquid.
“Where do you suggest we do that” he finally replies, placing the glass in front of him.
“I hear Nebraska's nice” I respond immediately with a toothy smile.
Dave laughs in response, throwing his head back.
“Nebraska.You're so feral, I like you” he chuckles and in the blink of an eye he grabs his gun but Rick is much faster than him exploding a shot straight at the man's head.
Without thinking twice I turn my back on Rick, leaning it against his and without even aiming I fire two shots at Tony's chest.
The man doesn't even have time to react, his awkward movements in grabbing the rifle to try to defend himself were fatal.
The shots ring out like rolls of thunder within the walls of the bar.
The man's enormous body collapses to the ground while two patches of crimson red spread across his white t-shirt, adding to the dirt that adorned it.
With an empty head I let my arms fall lifeless to my sides, the gun slipping from my fingers and falling to the wooden floor with a dull thud.
I watch as if hypnotized as the blood spreads.
It's the first time I've killed another human being.
I shot my mom but she was already dead...
My hands are shaking wildly and I ball them into fists trying to keep them at bay.
When I was at the sanctuary I never had to kill anyone.
He never allowed it.
For him I had to remain clean from this point of view for as long as possible.
He never wanted me to stain my soul with one of the most atrocious acts in the world, that is, taking the life of another human being.
When I ran away, on my long journey, I was lucky enough to meet few people and I always managed to avoid them without being discovered.
But now I had to do it.
I had to.
I couldn't let anything happen to my friends.
In the fog of my thoughts I can hear the sound of Rick's boots coming alongside me.
Then another shot.
And now Tony's face is also covered in blood.
I killed a human being.
“Summer?Summer, are you okay?”
Rick's warm, reassuring fingers touch my cheek and when I force my gaze to move from the lifeless body in front of me to him I don't know what he's reading because a moment later his arms are wrapped around my shoulders.
I can feel the sound of his voice through his large chest.
“It's okay” he whispers gently without loosening his grip on me.
I feel lost.
It's as if I wanted to cry but I no longer had a soul in my body.
I killed a human being.
A living person.
I weakly push my hands against Rick's chest.
His blue eyes observe me, a wrinkle of concern furrows his face.
For a moment I see Tony's corpse in front of my eyes and a wave of nausea overwhelms me, forcing me to close them.
Stunned, I tighten my fingers around Rick's shirt.
Other steps reach us and now Glenn is also at my side, I avoid his gaze as I delicately move away from his light touch.
I feel dirty and I don't want him to get dirty by touching me.
His soul is still pure...
Mine...
I feel like I lost mine the moment I pulled the trigger.
“I…” I croak, not recognizing my own voice.
“Rick…I…”
The worried look of my close friend softens and the worry wrinkle between his eyes smoothes out.
“Is your first time?”
I nod with a shy nod, lowering my eyes to my hands that are crushing the faded cotton of his shirt.
Rick's lips rest delicately on my forehead.
I'm still waiting for the tears but they don't come.
I want to cry, wash away my sins with my tears but they just don't come.
No matter how hard I try my eyes remain empty and dry.
It's as if my own body is punishing me for my reprehensible actions.
You killed another living being, you deserve to suffer by keeping it all inside.
Moving away from everyone, I head towards the door, deliberately ignoring the blood of the man lying at my feet which slowly spreads across the floor in a large dark and dense puddle.
I reach the door observing the outside.
In addition to our car there is another, certainly the car of the two unfortunate people who are now lying lifeless on the floor.
The devastating silence roars loudly in my ears until the vet's voice snaps me out of my horrible thoughts.
“Let's head back”
And although until a few minutes ago I wanted nothing more than to go back to Daryl more than anything in the world, now the very idea terrifies me.
How will I be able to look him in the eyes?
How will he still see me as the wonderful person he saw in me until this morning?
I feel like I should stay here.
My place is here in the midst of death, the same death I feel in my heart.
Behind me I hear my friends' footsteps approaching but before they can do anything else I see lights across the street.
A car.
“Car.Car!Get down” I exclaim lowering myself while the others imitate my same gesture.
After a few moments the car stops and parks right in front of the bar.
The sound of the doors opening is followed by the sound of footsteps.
“Dave?Tony?”
Shit!
Someone came looking for those two bastards.
They were right after all, they were not alone.
“I'm telling you.I heard shots”
“I saw roamers two streets over”
From the voices it seems to understand that there are three of them.
Damn.
I exchange a quick glance with Rick and Glenn, both of whom are on the opposite side of the door while Hersel next to me squeezes my shoulder with his fingers.
The three men talk to each other trying to find out the whereabouts of their friends.
We clearly hear their footsteps along the sidewalk as they argue with each other, ordering each other to be quiet and continue searching.
Rick gets up peering from behind the curtain then, remaining crouched, we approach each other.
“Why won't they leave?” Glenn asks in an agitated tone.
For the first time I look him in the eyes again.
“Would you?” I ask him.
And even if my friend doesn't answer me I know what he's thinking because it's the same thing we all have.
None of us would ever leave the others.
“We have to leave, we can't stay.They will find us.Let's head out the back and make a run to the car”
Nodding we try to move but sudden shots stop our every movement.
“What happened?” asks one of the strangers outside.
The answer doesn't take long to arrive.
Walkers.
Shit.
The situation seems to get worse moment by moment.
The men outside continue to argue until they come to the conclusion that their friends will definitely be in the bar and so a moment later their footsteps inexorably get closer.
Rick and I immediately point the gun at the door and when it opens Glenn rushes towards it, closing it, pressing his back against it.
Now they know we're here.
“Yo, is someone in there?Yo, if someone in there, we don't want no trouble.We’re just looking for our friends”
I shake my head vigorously at Rick.
We must remain silent and wait for them to go away.
If we engage in any kind of discussion with these people we already know how it will end.
And even if my hand trembles I already know that I will do what I have to do if necessary.
“We don't want no trouble.We're just looking for our friends.If something happened tell us.This place is crawling with corpses.If you can help us not get killed, I'd appreciate it” the man repeats once again.
Rick puts his hand to his forehead, fighting against himself, but in the end I can see the moment he gives in.
And then he speaks.
“They drew on us!” he screams.
The footsteps outside are getting closer again.
“Dave and Tony in there?Are they alive?”
No, they aren't.
Despite the darkness, my eyes immediately find the man lying on the floor.
The man I killed.
I killed a human being.
I close my eyes trying to ignore the turmoil stirring inside me.
I can't distract myself now, not now.
I will have time for this, now I have to focus on the present.
We need to get out of here and possibly do it alive.
“No” Rick replies.
Outside the voices are agitated, talking to each other.
Some want to leave while one of them doesn't.
“They drew on us!They give us no choice!I'm sure we've all lost enough people, done things we wish we didn't have to, but it's like that now.You know that.So let's just chalk this up to what it was.Wrong place, wrong-” Rick shouts again but without being able to finish because a hail of bullets hits us.
The windows above our heads shatter, forcing us to step back.
Rick quickly gets to his feet, shooting through the broken glass and telling us to run away.
I grab Hersel's arm and, remaining crouched, we follow Glenn towards the back.
Hersel and Glenn take cover behind the counter while I get stuck behind a column when a bullet whizzes past my ear, splintering the wall protecting me.
I'm panting heavily as I check the magazine of my gun, I only have four shots left.
The gunfire around us seems to stop so I lean forward trying to figure out where Rick is and if he's okay.
I find him loading his rifle.
“Hey!” he shouts outward.
“We all know this is not gonna end well!There's nothing in it for any of us!You guys just...just back off, no one else gets hurt!”
When no one answers Rick nods at me and I know my time has come.
Without wasting time I rush towards the back door and enter the back of the bar.
The old stairs creak under my boots, making my heartbeat skip a beat.
Trying to make as little noise as possible, I approach the door that would signal our salvation but the silhouette of a man appears from behind the glass and a moment later the door handle moves.
Instinctively I shoot, sending the glass shattering.
Three more bullets.
“Summer!Summer!” my friend's worried voice reaches me from the other side of the room.
Keeping the gun pointed at the door I assure them that I'm fine.
Nothing seems to be moving abroad.
Maybe I scared him and he ran away.
Or maybe you killed him.
You killed another human being.
A noise behind me makes me snap like a spring.
I turn around with the gun drawn in front of me and find Glenn with his hands raised.
Behind him Hersel.
Glenn moves my gun from in front of his face.
I exhale deeply.
“Shit, man.Sorry!Sorry!”
I close my eyes trying to calm down.
My goodness, I could have shot my friends!
“Rick wants me to try for the car”
I shake my head.
No.
No.
I can't let Glenn go out there.
“I'll go” I exclaim, ready to stop any protest from him.
I load my gun, trying to block out the two men's animated protests from my head.
I have three shots, I can do it.
I have to do it.
“Summer!”
“No, Glenn!We will talk about sex discrimination another time.I don't give a shit if you feel like a gentleman right now.You will stay here, protect Rick and Hersel.End of the story”
Before I can open the door I feel someone grab my wrist.
When I look at Glenn's face, his eyes are two hard and unreadable mirrors.
“Don't bullshit.Don't be the hero.You get the car and come back here.If things go to shit, run away.We'll find a way”
“Glenn…”
“Just…Just don't die, okay?”
“I won't” I promise him solemnly, leaving a quick peck on his cheek and disappearing out the door.
Outside at the moment everything seems to be quiet so I cautiously walk along the sidewalk that runs alongside the building but I don't have time to walk even ten steps before a shot rings out behind me.
I take cover against the wall and when I turn around another shot rings out in the air.
Glenn shot my attacker.
His chest rises and falls rapidly as with a shaking hand he lowers the rifle.
The man on the ground scream in pain and if we don't silence him he will immediately attract his friends but I can't stop now so I move forward hiding behind a dumpster.
After a few moments I hear Rick's voice.
“Summer?Are you hurt?”
“No.No.I'm good” I whisper.
The man reaches me crouching next to me.
“It's all right.The car's right there.We're almost home”
“Okay”
My voice is shaking, I try to clear my throat but to no avail.
That ball of anxiety and horror is still there weighing down my chest.
We're almost home.
Yeah.
I want to go home.
I want to see Carol again.
I want to see Daryl again.
Only at the thought of him my tears seem to return.
Because I need him.
Daryl was right.
As long as we are together everything will be fine.
Daryl will help me with my pain, he has already healed my soul once.
I'm sure he will do it again.
And again if I need it.
I just need him now.
I sniffle trying not to make too much noise.
Rick wraps his long fingers around my shoulder squeezing it hard.
“I'll take you home, little sis”
The shadow of an amused smile on his lips.
It's absurd how naturally he passed himself off as my brother to protect me.
“I know, big bro”
The man on the ground continues to scream in pain.
Too loudly.
Too fucking loudly.
“Let's go” he urges me but as soon as we get up other shots reach us forcing us to retrace our steps and hide.
Suddenly a car stops on the other side of the road and the man behind the wheel starts yelling that the place is quickly filling up with walkers and that it's best to go.
I lean forward a little to understand who he is talking to and I notice that on the roof of the building opposite there is a boy with a rifle, he must be just over twenty years old, who, invited by his friends, jumps from the roof and disappears from my sight.
Immediately afterwards an inhuman scream reaches us and the car skids off.
“Get Hersel and Glenn” Rick orders me, running towards the screams.
A group of walkers is approaching so shouting at my friends to follow me we run in the same direction as Rick.
The walkers don't follow us too busy devouring the man Glenn shot.
After a few moments the screaming stops.
Making sure the two men are following me I catch up with Rick.
When I arrived, the scene that appeared before me was terrifying.
The boy has impaled his leg on a metal spike, his screams make me shiver while his desperate crying only attracts other walkers.
“We have to go now!” Hersel shouts.
The boy cries even harder.
“I'm sorry, son.We have to go” Hersel murmurs with a heartbroken look towards the young man.
“No, no, don't leave me, please”
His plea tears my heart apart.
It's not his fault that he ended up in this mess.
Nowadays we are willing to do anything to survive, even joining a violent group.
I know something about it.
And in this moment I understand Rick's hesitation in wanting to help the boy and Hersel's determination in wanting to leave.
I can't choose and I can't take sides.
“We have to go!” Hersel reiterates as Rick shakes his head.
“We can't leave him here” replies the latter.
Glenn fidgets next to me.
“Rick, this guy was shooting at you!”
I am struck by his words.
“Glenn, he's just a boy”
But my friend doesn't even give me an answer.
Nervousness arises around us pitting us against each other.
“This place is crawling with walkers!” Glenn shouts while in the distance we can hear the walkers approaching.
Every minute is precious.
“Hersel, what chance do we have of saving him?” I ask the man, ignoring Glenn's almost betrayed look.
I know he is convinced that we are wasting precious time but too many people died today.
If we even have a chance of saving him we have to try.
“The fence went clean through.There's no way we can get the leg off in one piece.We're not gonna get that leg off without tearing the muscle to shreds.He certainly can't run.He may bleed out”
Shit!
Thing Summer, thing!
Meanwhile, Rick and Glenn tell the boy to be quiet, trying to calm his scream.
Then an idea.
“Hersel, can't we just take the leg off?”
At my question the boy begins to scream even louder.
I approach him pointing my gun at his face.
“Listen man, do you want to live?” I spit the words between my teeth, angrily.
I'm tired and out of control.
The boy is terrified by my crazy expression, so he whimpers and nods weakly.
“So shut the fuck up!Do you understand?”
With my eyes fixed on the boy I try to soften my gaze by trying to be at least a little kinder.
"It will all be fine.We won't leave you here just hang on, alright?”
He nods but his gaze remains haunted as Hersel lists the steps to take to amputate his leg.
The man takes off his shirt, knotting it as if it were a tourniquet around the boy's leg.
Rick joins me, pushing a hand against the boy's chest to force him to lie down.
Around us the grunts are getting closer and closer.
Glenn and I exchange a knowing look, splitting up to cover both sides.
He is the first to shoot and I follow closely but having only three bullets there is very little I can do.
“Rick!We have to move” I shout at him.
“I'm out of ammo.Glenn, how's it going?”
The delivery guy fires a couple more shots.
“I'm almost out of ammo” he replies.
Shit!
“Rick!”
I catch up with him while he and Hersel try to cut off the boy's leg.
“Hersel do it now!” Rick is yelling at him but the man shakes his head in defeat.
“There is no time” the vet replies.
Rick, after shooting a walker behind us, drops his rifle and, grabbing the boy's leg, forcefully removes it from the fence.
After an inhuman scream the boy faints.
Rick and Glenn put him in the car.
Hersel and I sit with him in the back seat periodically making sure he's breathing.
The journey continues in a surreal silence and when we reach the farm it is already morning.
I don't remember much about the return journey, it's as if my mind has turned off, excluding any sound, any word, anything that happened in the previous hours.
I feel numb, in my body and in my mind.
And it is with the same state of mind, with the same numbness, that I watch Rick and the others get out of the car.
The man hugs his son and his wife.
In their hasty and excited gestures I can see all the worry evaporate and be replaced by a love so immense, so tangible that it takes my breath away.
I see Maggie run to the car and throw her arms around Glenn's neck as Hersel instructs Patricia on what he needs and what she needs to prepare.
And I…
I sit next to Randall.
That's his name.
I watch his chest fall and rise slowly as small gasps leave his lips.
I look at my hands, placed in my lap, dirty with his blood.
The voices outside the cockpit are just confused murmurs but among them I can clearly hear heavy footsteps until the door on my side opens.
“Ya good?”
His voice unleashes a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within me.
When his fingers touch my chin I move away, turning my head the other way, focusing my gaze on the boy's mangled leg.
The blood continues to soak Hersel's once white shirt relentlessly.
“Summer?”
My name rolls from his lips wrapped in a spiral of worry but despite this I can't look him in the eyes.
I don't feel like myself and I don't want him to see me that way.
Daryl doesn't push any further, just crouches beside me waiting for me to be ready for him.
From the other side of the car someone approaches to take the boy away.
I don't have the strength to look who they are and after a few minutes they all disappeared inside the big house.
Everyone except me.
And Daryl.
The man doesn't let out a breath, he remains motionless at my side.
After minutes or hours I find the strength to speak again.
“You should reach the others” I murmur, lost of any emotion, of any feeling.
The words come out in such a soft whisper that I'm afraid he didn't hear me.
But I know that's not true.
The archer remains motionless at my side.
Not a breath, not a word.
I feel his eyes boring a hole into my face, even though I can't see him I feel his eyes on me.
I peek in his direction and it's just as I imagined.
His beautiful blue eyes are there, intently staring at me.
In his face there is not even a shadow of what I had imagined.
There is no anger, no disgust, oh no...in his eyes there is only so much concern but also so much relief at me coming back.
Come back to him.
And all this kills me.
I would have preferred for him to yell at me, for him to scold me for my recklessness, for disappearing without telling him anything.
I would have accepted anything but this.
Not this.
I feel like I don't deserve his gentle soul.
I look back at my hands, Randall's blood coagulated between my fingers.
The same fingers that pulled that trigger.
The same fingers that marked the end of a life.
I killed a human being.
With a sudden movement of my arm I push Daryl angrily, forcing him to stand up and make room for me while I get out of the car.
Shocked and without a specific destination, I walk away from the car and head towards the opposite side of the house.
The hill that leads towards the trees at the edge of the property extends in front of my eyes and so without having really decided my feet take me in that direction.
“Summer!” the archer grunts trying to reach me.
I snort, speeding up my pace.
Why can't he understand that I want to be alone?
His large hand grabs my wrist, forcing me to stop.
He stays behind me, granting me at least this.
I don't want to see his eyes and he understood this.
“Wha’ happened?”
“You should reach the others, Daryl”
My voice cracks as I say his name.
The same name that until a few minutes ago kept me away from my own demons now seems to push me further and further towards an abyss from which I can't see a way out.
“Wha’ happened, my sunshine?”
My heart skips a beat.
My sunshine.
He thinks about me as his.
And I want to be his.
But…but I feel so dirty…
I killed a human being.
“Wha’ happened?” he repeats but this time letting all his desperation towards my stubborn silence shine through his words.
What happened...
Happened that I love you and I feel like I don't deserve you.
Here's what happens.
But I will never tell him this.
Never.
Daryl Dixon is all I have and I will always protect him.
Even if it is from myself that I will have to protect him.
“Mind your fucking business, Dixon” I hiss angrily, yanking my hand from his grasp.
Daryl lets me go like he's burned himself and when I start to walk away I don't hear his footsteps following me.
I don't have the courage to turn around.
Because even though this is what I want, I can't handle the pain in his eyes.
I'm a monster.
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loganlostitall · 7 months
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Literally if Daryl texted my OC 😭
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