Thevegandarkelf - Taylor - Tumblr Blog

*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.

I gotta watch The Walking Dead now, my friend said I remind him of Daryl and now I’m fully prepared to watch 200 episodes of a show I know nothing about just for Norman Reedus.

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Twelve

Masterlist

AO3 link

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3 (18+ only, MDNI)

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

Sleeping Beauty (c) Disney, Wednesday Addams (c) Charles Addams

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, mentions of sibling death, mentions of blood (kinda?), attempted amputation, and violence (past experience of something trying to cut their own arm off after walker bite)

Word count: 2.7k

There was plenty for us to go through in the store, and I wasn’t sure if we’d be able to get it all or if we’d have to come back another time. Maybe it only seemed like a lot because I was expecting to find far less, but I was grateful nonetheless. Plus, we still had the medical center to go to, and I would of course be taking everything in sight from there.

We did what we did on the last one, where I started at one end and Daryl at the other. The boxes from before were still in the car, so we grabbed those to use. I was in an aisle that had canned vegetables and beans, and I even found a couple boxes of mac ’n cheese. Call me a child, but it was still one of my favorites. That, cheap ramen packets, and my dump ’n pray recipes got me through med school.

I took my now full box and carried it over near where Daryl was, setting it down and grabbing another one to take back to the other side with me. I knelt down at at the end of one of the aisles where I found things like oil and vinegar. Daryl had climbed up some shelves to reach some stuff on the top of one of the aisles. I noticed an empty beer bottle on the floor near me. The label had been removed, and there had been masking tape placed on it with a heart drawn on the tape in Sharpie.

“It’s like goddamn spin the bottle,” I laughed, tapping the top of the bottle so it spun around. If there in fact was a group of people who sat here and played, I hoped it worked out in everyone’s favor. Daryl looked down when he heard the bottle clinking around on the floor.

“The hell’s that?” Daryl asked. I looked up at him and let out a single chuckle before going back to what I was doing.

“Daryl, you sweet summer child,” I sighed, “it’s a game you play with a group of people. You all sit in a circle around a bottle, one person starts, and they spin the bottle around. They have to kiss whoever the top end points to when it stops.”

I had to physically restrain myself from saying I would go and tapping the bottle to rotate it to point at him. I heard Carol’s voice in the back of my head. Be patient with him.

“Seems weird,” he said, dropping some items he pulled from the back of the top shelf into the box below him, “what if couples ‘re playin’?”

“Ideally, everyone playing is single. It’s mostly a thing high schoolers & college students play at parties,” I explained, snickering a little, “I had my first kiss during a game of spin the bottle in high school. It was fucking awful.” I managed to elicit a stifled laugh from Daryl. I kept grabbing random bottles off the shelf and putting them into my box. "Guy tried to play grab-ass, so I gave him a black eye in front of everyone. Called me a bitch like what I did was unprompted. People at my high school quickly learned I was not to be fucked with.”

“Jesus. How old were ya?” I stuck my head between two of the shelves to reach something at the back.

“Uh, like 14 or 15 I think. I’ve always been really friendly, very approachable, if you will, and people tend to think they can take advantage of that until I show them that if they fuck around, they’re sure to find out.”

“Hey,” Daryl called down to me, and I pulled my head out from the shelf and looked up at him, “any of the guys ‘round Alexandria give ya trouble, send ‘em my way. They can fuck around ’nd find out with me. Sound like you’ve dealt with ’nough already.” The warming sensation in my chest returned again, and my stomach flipped around in my abdomen. I gave him a giant smile.

“Thanks. That uh…that means a lot.” I knew I could handle my own if any of the men around Alexandria did so choose to fuck around with me, and I think he knew that too, but it was sweet that Daryl wanted to take some of that burden off of me if it happened.

There was a couple minutes of silence between us before either one said anything. I don’t know how it happened, but a certain level of boldness came over me. “Hey Daryl? Did you have a girlfriend before all this?” I asked, “or a boyfriend. I don’t mean to be presumptuous.”

“Was always just Merle ’nd I,” he said. There was more silence for a minute. I think he was deciding whether or not to ask the question he eventually did. “You?”

“Me neither. Men are trash.” I looked up at Daryl and smiled. “Present company excluded, of course. Last guy I dated was probably early college, and he was terrible. He was possessive as hell, even got insecure over me hanging out with my brothers. Weird ass.”

“Sounds like you’ve dealt with some real human garbage,” he said, climbing down the shelves from his perch, “glad to know I’m excluded.” I got up from my spot on the floor to go down the next aisle, feeling the blood rushing to my cheeks once again. This time, I just allowed it to happen.

We continued our way around the store, grabbing what we could and filling the boxes and my backpack as much as we could. If this medical center had plenty to take, hopefully they’d have something to store it in. It did in fact seem like a lot because I was expecting there to be less. Apparently, this area had been evacuated pretty early on, so that explained why we got so lucky both times we’ve gone out.

I was going to stick with it being that I was a good luck charm though.

“The hell’s almond milk?” Daryl said, flipping the blue carton around in his hands, scanning over it.

“Oh shit, nice!” I exclaimed, “throw it here.” I reached my arms out, and he turned around and gently tossed the carton in my direction. I caught it and inspected it myself. “It’s a milk substitute made from almonds, like for people with dairy allergies. It’s not too bad in a pinch.” I placed the carton into my box. “Jay was violently allergic to dairy. Poor guy could literally look at a stick of butter and I swear it’d make him sick.”

“Ya talk ‘bout your brothers a lot,” I heard Daryl say from a couple aisles over.

“Oh yeah, guess I do. Sorry,” I replied, rather sheepishly. The fear of coming across as annoying came creeping back in at full force.

“Ain’t say it’s bad. Sounds like they were good to ya,” he said.

“They were. They were some of my best friends. I got really lucky,” I responded. I smiled at the fond memories that flashed quickly through my mind—them teaching me to fight, staying up late in the summertime when we were kids and sneaking out into the backyard after our parents went to sleep to catch fireflies, long conversations around a bonfire on family vacations, making snow angels in the winter…my daydreams were interrupted by Daryl’s next question.

“Hey Vec? When ya got here, ya said somethin’ ‘bout when this started, gettin’ home ‘nd findin’ one of ‘em. Had to…finish ‘em off.” I heard him quickly maneuvering through different aisles, grabbing things as he made his way in my direction. The man worked fast, I’d give him that.

I set my box down on a shelf in front of me, grabbing a couple containers of random spices and tossing them in. “I thought it was established that I was done answering questions,” I joked. I had no issues talking about Eli, but I didn’t want to get too emotional out on a run where it was important to remain vigilant. “But yeah, I did. It was Eli. He was the youngest of them. Preston was the oldest, and Jay and Eli were twins, then there was me. I was on my way home already when everything started, and when I got there, I, uh…”

I took my glasses off and set them gently next to my box, holding my sleeves to my eyes to quickly soak up the impending tears. “I found him in the living room. He’d gotten bit. More than once.” I kept my sleeves pressed to my eyes and tried my best to control my voice so it didn’t sound like I was about to start crying. “He tried to cut his arm off. Couldn't get the axe through. Poor guy still had it in his shoulder when I found him. After that, I just sat in the house and cried for hours. I miss him terribly.”

I dried my eyes and blinked back the tears that tried to creep through. I took a couple of deep breaths and fanned my eyes before putting my glasses back on. Although I couldn’t see them myself, I’m sure my eyes were red. I placed a couple more things in and turned back to see Daryl standing at the end cap, startling me once again and causing me to almost drop the now-full box in my arms.

“God, what did I say about sneaking up on me?” I scolded. I immediately felt bad for the tone I used, which was more irritated than it would normally be given my heightened emotions. “Fuck, sorry. I just don’t wanna get too emotional outside the walls. Gotta stay on high alert, y’know?”

“Yeah,” he said, walking past me towards the front of the store. We had about cleared the place out by that point. “Sorry ‘bout askin’.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s ok, really. We’ve all lost people we love to this fucking virus. Something we all got in common. Might as well talk about them, keep their memories alive and whatnot,” I said, following behind him.

We took a couple trips putting boxes into the trunk before taking one more walk-through to make sure we didn’t miss anything. After that, we climbed back into the car to go find this medical center that would, ideally, have a prosthetic for Aaron. And hopefully more. Could never have too much medical supplies on hand, as far I was concerned.

“The good luck charm strikes again,” I called out as I skipped out the front door of the store back to the car. I could feel Daryl rolling his eyes at me as I climbed into the car and made myself comfortable.

“So Daryl,” I said, strapping myself back into my seat, “back to talking about you again. What are your interests? Like what hobbies do you have? Well, if we can even have hobbies anymore. I mean, I write, I guess that’s a hobby.” He turned back out onto the road, going in the opposite direction that we came from. I pulled my water bottle out of my very crammed backpack to finally chug some. Still had a bad habit of letting myself get dehydrated, even with regular access to water.

“Guess I got my bike.” I figured he had to be referring to the motorcycle I’d seen sitting near the front gates. I’d never seen anyone use it, so I wasn’t sure who it belonged to, but now that I knew it was Daryl’s, I couldn’t say I was surprised.

Daryl—the tall, tan, whiskey-sippin’, motorcycle-ridin’, crossbow-wielding bonafide badass who smelled like leather and tobacco. And then there was me—the “tiny,” soft, flower-pickin’, poetry-writin’, Disney princess-ass surgeon who used a sex toy as a weapon. We made quite a team.

“Oh shit, that bike’s yours? I was wondering who it belonged to,” I said, “that’s so dope. But please tell me you have a helmet you wear with it.” When he didn’t answer, I clicked my tongue and gave him a disapproving stare. “You don’t wanna know how many people I saw torn to pieces after motorcycle accidents and how many death certificates I signed because someone wasn’t wearing a helmet. If you ever find one, promise me you’ll wear it.”

“No promises, but ok,” he said, taking a turn onto the next road. I huffed a sigh and put my feet back up on the dash, crossing my legs.

"Could you show me some stuff about your bike sometime?" I asked, “I don’t know, maybe have me hang around next time you give a tune-up or something.” He was quiet, and I twirled a piece of hair in my finger, afraid that maybe I’d been too forward somehow. I wiggled my toes again to keep my mind preoccupied in the silent car.

“What for?” He seemed surprised by my interest.

"I like learning about the things my friends are interested in. I may not understand it, but if it's important to them, then it's important to me,” I explained, reminiscing on the times my best friend would lecture on about engineering and my dad go on and on about space, “I like watching people’s faces light up when they talk about something they love, how excited they get when they get to tell me about this thing that means so much to them. It makes me happy to see them happy.”

“You’re just a goddamn ray of sunshine, aren’tcha?” I could tell by his tone that it wasn’t meant in a bad way. Not in a “you’re too much of a ray of sunshine, calm down” kind of way, but in an acknowledging kind of way. Maybe an admiring kind of way.

I laughed a little. “I try to be. It’s hard enough out there as it is.”

He was quiet once again, the same stoic look on his face that made it impossible for me to tell what was going on in that pretty little head. The only sounds were the tires on the dirt road and the hum of the engine.

“Yeah, I’ll show ya some stuff,” he finally said.

“Nice,” I said, doing a tiny fist pump in the air, “alright, next question. Umm…what would you be doing if the world never fell?” He gave me a quick glance before putting his eyes back on the road.

“Whadaya think I’d be doin’?” he asked. My eyes scanned over him before resting on his muscular arms. It didn’t help that he was wearing one of his shirts with the sleeves hacked off. Or maybe it did. Was I using this as a moment to check him out? Absolutely.

“You look like the handyman type. Or an auto mechanic maybe. Some kind of manual labor for sure, you’re definitely built for it,” I said, biting my tongue upon realizing that it could potentially be interpreted as flirting. Yeah, I had done a little bit, but I was afraid of going too overboard. I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable or freak him out.

“Sounds ‘bout right.”

I rested the side of my head on the window, staring out at a couple of deer that were prancing off in the distance. “Alright tough guy, what about me? If you didn’t know I was a doctor, what do you think I’d be doing in a normal world?”

He hardly skipped a beat. “Probably a comedian since ya talk so damn much,” he said. My jaw dropped, both at how quickly he came up with such a comeback as well as the nature of the comeback itself. However, I could tell by his tone that he was messing with me.

“Ouch,” I said sarcastically, leaning back in my seat and placing my hand over my chest, giving him a cheeky smile, “right in the heart.” I saw that tiny smile tug at the corner of his mouth again. 

“Nah, I’m just teasin’. A shrink suits ya,” he said. I took it as his way of saying I was a good listener and easy to talk to, which brought a little smile to my face and put that warm sensation back in my chest.

“So still a doctor, just a different kind?”

“Guess so.”

Vec: *looking at Daryl in adoration as he tinkers with his bike*

Daryl: Why ya lookin’ at me like that?

Vec: Someone’s using their right to bare arms.

Daryl: …

Daryl: ...

Daryl: ...

Vec: I’m so sorry.

Daryl: Ya lucky I love ya.

(Vec is my OC)

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Eleven

Masterlist

AO3 link

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

Sleeping Beauty (c) Disney, Wednesday Addams (c) Charles Addams

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, mention of scars, canonical violence (walker killings), a sex toy is used as a weapon

Word count: 2.7k

It was bright and early the following morning when Daryl came knocking on my bedroom door, insisting that we get moving early to make sure we got back before his afternoon watch. “Ok, gimme five minutes,” I croaked, my throat dry from mouth-breathing in my sleep. I grabbed some clothes out of one of my drawers and tossed them on my bed. There was a fitted jacket, one that would likely be used as workout attire, that I decided to wear as a shirt, another pair of black workout shorts, and my leg holsters for my weapons. I grabbed my backpack and packed my remaining weapons, my notebook, my water bottle, and some medical supplies.

I fluffed my hair a little and tied it up into a high ponytail. Even tied up, my hair still reached down to my mid-back. Having long hair gave me more confidence and made me feel more feminine, but since the world fell, it was more of a nuisance than anything. And it was cumbersome when it was wet. I often debated on just chopping it off, but I liked it far too much to do that.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” I said as I came down the stairs. Daryl was putting his boots on by the front door, his crossbow slung over his shoulder and a tumbler on the floor next to him. I went over and joined him, and he picked the tumbler up off the floor and handed it to me.

“This yours,” he said, holding the tumbler of what I presumed to be coffee out to me. I reached out and grabbed it, our fingers lightly touching as I placed my hand below his on the cup. I let my fingers linger there for just a moment and made sure to brush his as I pulled away. I felt electricity shoot through my body as my fingers graced his.

“You’re sweet. Thank you.” This time, I know I saw a very faint shade of pink appear on his cheeks. I set the cup down long enough to put my boots on and follow him outside.

The air was crisp, cool, and I was thankful I had worn long sleeves. The path was damp, like it had rained the night before or this morning. And one of my favorite things—the dew that clung to the grass nearby—sparkled in the sun like glitter. Rosita was walking up the dirt path, carrying a basket of food from the garden in her arms.

“Good morning guys,” she said as Daryl walked past her. He just gave her a nod and a small “hey” and kept making his way to the front gate. She reached her arm out and grabbed mine to stop me. “Vector, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Uh, yeah, real quick 'cause I gotta skedaddle. What’s up?” She looked over my shoulder to make sure Daryl was far enough away and dropped her voice to a whisper.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, beaming. I rolled my eyes and huffed at her.

“I guess Rick wants us to go out on a run. At least that’s what Daryl told me. Also gonna try to find a prosthetic foot for Aaron for when he needs it,” I explained, also dropping my voice to a whisper.

“Sounds like you two have a long day ahead of you,” she replied, “are you excited?”

I looked down at my feet and smiled, a faint blush of pink gracing my cheeks. “I am. I just hope being stuck with me all day won’t annoy him, y’know?”

“Well if it does, you’ll know. So if it’s not obvious, you’re fine. Now go, you have a handsome archer waiting for you.” She started to turn away, then turned back. “Be sure to tell me all about it once you’re back.” I nodded and jogged off to catch up with Daryl, who was already at the front waiting on me.

“So what did Rick want us to go out for?” I asked as I buckled myself into the car.

“Said there’s some big ass grocery store nearby. Wants us to get what we can,” Daryl explained as he drove us out the front gates, “stock up ‘fore winter sets in and we can’t grow nothin’.”

“Ah, groshrees and a prosthetic foot. How exciting.” I could see him make a face in my peripheral.

“The hell’s “groshrees?” Ya don’t sound like no east coaster.” I stifled a chuckle and pulled down the sun visor in front of me, shifting it to the side window to keep the rising sun out of my eyes.

“That would be my Midwestern accent. I grew up in Ohio, close to the Michigan border. I say groceries like “groshrees” and wintertime like “winnertime.” Med school took me to the east coast.” I thought this would be a good segway into trying to get to know Daryl a little better. “What about you, Daryl? You sound like you’re from deeper south than Virginia.”

“Georgia,” he said, then quickly changing the subject back to me, like he already had his next question lined up, “what’s Doctors Without Borders?”

“Hmm?”

“When ya got here, ya told Rick somethin’ ‘bout wantin’ to join Doctors Without Borders, an’ he seemed impressed.” Of course, I was happy to answer just about any question he had, and I liked that he seemed to take a genuine interest in me and my life. But damn, he couldn’t even keep the subject on himself for two seconds, and it was starting to get a little frustrating.

“Oh, yeah, it was a non-profit that sent doctors around the world to provide medical care in areas where people needed it. Places with rampant diseases they couldn’t keep under control, war-torn countries, places where people had experienced natural disasters and such.”

I looked over at him and studied his features as I kept talking. He had his eyes focused ahead of him on the road, but I could picture them perfectly, those gorgeous pools of cerulean blue. Even though he was paying attention to the road, as he should, I could tell he was actively listening, genuinely curious and taking in every single word I said. He always did. “I wanted to get a few years of practice in after residency before joining. But instead, the world fell. Guess I was destined to end up in a war zone regardless.”

“Selfless as hell. Not somethin’ most people’d do,” Daryl replied, this time turning to me for just a second, gracing my face with his beautiful eyes, followed by a very, very tiny smile that tugged at one of the corners of his mouth. Our eyes locked for just a moment, and in just that one moment, my knees became weak and my heart rate increased. He truly was beautiful.

“Thank you.” This time, I was determined to get something out of him. “Alright, enough about me. You gotta give me some more info about you,” I said, propping my right foot up on my seat and wrapping my arms around my leg.

“Why?”

“Because you have asked me a million questions about myself in the last few days, and I’m gettin’ real sick and tired of hearing my own voice,” I explained, offering him a soft smile, “you are one mysterious human being, and I want to get to know you. We’re friends, right?” I scratched at the side of my thumb with my index finger. “I hope. Plus, I don’t wanna be a nuisance by just going on and on and on.”

“If I thought ya’s annoyin’, I wouldn’ta kept talkin’ to ya or brought ya along,” he said in an attempt to offer some reassurance.

“But still, I would like to know more about you. So let me do the asking, and you do the talking. Please.” To my surprise, the car slowly rolled to a stop, and he turned once again to meet my gaze, this time for longer. New butterflies in my stomach were starting to break out of their chrysalids. “I won’t get too personal I promise. Unless you want me to.” I gave him a flirtatious smirk, and I saw that small smile pull at the corner of his mouth again.

“Fine,” Daryl said, breaking eye contact and starting down the road again, “only cause ya asked so nicely.”

I had to take a second before I started speaking again. What had just happened? Was there tension in the air there? Did I imagine it? Was he being flirtatious back? Or was I imagining that as well? My head was spinning, and I had to take a couple of deep, but quiet, breaths to slow my heart rate down.

“What did you do before all of this?” I asked, then remembering that I had asked that question on our first run and he didn’t seem very receptive to it, “oh shit, I asked you that before. If it’s a touchy subject, you don’t have to answer it.” My rough-and-tumble redneck companion was quiet for a moment, and I was trying to come up with my next question when he answered.

“Nah, you’re good.” He pondered for a moment, choosing his words carefully to perfectly craft his answer. “I was just existin’. Floatin’ through life. Wake up every mornin’, and whatever Merle said we was doin's what we did.”

He mentioned someone’s name. Progress.

“Who’s Merle?” I asked. I continued scratching at the side of my thumb with my index finger in an attempt to quell my anxiety. It was never painful, never enough to break skin, but it was enough to be a distraction from my feelings of unease.

“He’s mah brother.” I didn’t know whether the “he’s” was supposed to be he is or he was, but I decided not to prod further on that.

“Is he like you?”

“Whadaya mean?” I hadn’t quite thought this far ahead.

“Y’know, like…easy to talk to, pleasant to be around, things like that,” I said. He scoffed at my remark.

“Guy was a jackass. Righteous prick. Bit of a creep. You wouldn’ta liked ‘im.” The “was” clarified for me that he was either dead, or Daryl didn’t know where he was.

“Do you think he would've liked me?" I bit the inside of my bottom lip. Jesus Vec, why’d you ask that? What does it matter?

"Merle? Yeah, he'da liked ya. Probably a lil' too much,” Daryl replied. I felt my body fight to physically recoil at the thought of what that could’ve meant, but I kept still.

"I could've taken him,” I said rather confidently. Daryl scoffed at me again.

"That's a lotta big talk comin' from someone so tiny,” he teased. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Oh please. I've taken on people bigger than me before,” I elaborated, digging through the recesses of my brain for one of the stories where a man tried to fuck around with me and found out. I stretched my legs out and put my feet up on the dash, crossing one ankle over the other. “I once caught a man spiking my drink at a bar."

"What'dya do to ‘im?"

"I broke his nose...and his jaw...and his collarbone. Poor bastard didn't know whose drink he was messing with. Mama didn’t raise no bitch,” I said. Even though I could only see his side profile, I saw Daryl’s eyes widen just a little, and he had the tiniest smile on his face, like a proud parent.

"Nice. Didn't get arrested or nothin'?"

“Well, if he went to the cops to press charges on me, they’d eventually see the bar footage of him trying to drug me. Guess he didn’t want any smoke.” He took a turn down a random road, and I could see a building off in the distance with a tall sign in front of it, like the ones you see for gas stations on the side of highway exits. "Plus, he had like half a foot on me. I don’t think he wanted to admit that he got his ass beat by a woman much smaller than him.”

“Jackass had it comin’. Glad nothin’ happened to ya,” he said. I pulled the sleeves of my jacket up just a little and subtly rubbed at the scars on my right wrist.

“Me too,” I said, biting the inside of my lip. Nothing happened that time, sure, but what would he think if he found out about the time that something did? “But we’re going back to talking about you now. Your crossbow’s really cool. How did that become your weapon of choice?”

“Learned it when I was young. 's quiet, deadly, bolts easy ‘nough to come by."

“Did Merle teach you? Or your parents?” I saw his arms flex slightly, like he squeezed harder on the steering wheel for just a second, then stopped. Ok, no more bringing up Merle or his family. Got it, I said to myself, making a mental note of it.

“Taught m’self,” Daryl said, pulling into the tiny parking lot of the abandoned store that we’d be scavenging, “had to learn to hunt, quietest weapon I could find. Saved my ass more than once.”

“Well, it’s sick. Makes you look like a bonafide badass,” I complimented, swinging the car door open and letting myself out, “my brothers taught me how to fight, but that was it. Guess they figured it’d be the only skill I needed when the world was…normal.”

“I could teach ya,” Daryl responded, rather quickly, “I mean, if ya wanted. Should know how, just in case.” I folded my arms on the car's roof and rested my chin on them.

“Yeah, that…that would be cool. Thanks.” He was hunched over in the car, reaching for what I presumed to be his crossbow. I slung my bag over my shoulders. “Don’t think we’re finished here. I have more questions for you.” I shut my door, and he lifted his head back up and rolled his eyes at me. I gave him a smirk in response.

“Whatever,” he said, shutting his door and locking the car, shoving the keys in his back pocket. I swung my backpack around to my side, rummaging in it for a second. I could finally put my most unique weapon to use.

“Here we go,” I said, pulling the black vibrator out of my bag, “I can finally show you how I kill walkers with this thing.” He scoffed and pried the sliding glass doors open, stepping in first in front of me, crossbow ready to fire.

We tiptoed in slowly, waiting for the shuffling sounds of any walkers or people. At first, there was nothing, but after some more tiptoes from us, there were some walker moans and groans echoing from somewhere inside the store. We carefully scanned each aisle, rounding each corner with extreme caution. Daryl got one walker as we came around a corner towards the far end of the store, hitting it right between the eyes.

Even when he was doing something as grisly as killing walkers, he was still the most beautiful human I’d ever laid my eyes on.

We hit the opposite end of the store after cutting through the back area to check for people and make sure we were completely alone. There was one more walker, stumbling around in the back corner of the store, chomping its teeth at us as it sauntered closer. It was wearing a priest's collar.

“Well go on,” Daryl said, stepping out from in front of me to my side, “go get the Father.” I let out a small chuckle and approached the creature, vibrator in hand, the top piece fixated to smack it in the temple.

“‘Sup Daddy?” I joked, swinging the vibrator like a bat and smacking the thing upside the head before it could even try to reach for me. The side of its head was caved in. I leaned over next to it and gave it a few more good whacks in the skull until the moaning and groaning stopped. I wiped my weapon off on its pants and slipped it into the holster on my leg for my knife before looking back up at Daryl, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Told you it’s a good weapon.”

Considering starting a tag list. Idk if anyone would want to be part of it, but if you do, let ya gurl know 🖤

18+ only, MDNI

Once I’ve posted all the chapters of “Finding Myself, Finding You” (Daryl Dixon x OC that is fully written and has been posted to other platforms, I’m just playing catch-up in terms of posting it on Tumblr since I’m new here), I’ll have some one-shots coming. One is a smut that’s finished, but I’m waiting until my main story is fully posted. Another smut is in the works as well as a fluffy Halloween one-shot.

As of now, I just write Daryl Dixon x OC content

This is the magic lucky word count. Reblog for creativity juice. It might even work, who knows.

daryl fighting for his life in france with his freshly balayaged hair 💅🏻💅🏻 i see u girl

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Ten

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

Sleeping Beauty (c) Disney, Wednesday Addams (c) Charles Addams

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, allusion to past trauma, medical stuff (kinda?), smoking (Daryl)

Word count: 3.1k

We spent the next couple of hours in the living room talking. It was mostly Daryl asking me about myself and my life prior to coming to Alexandria, but I enjoyed it nonetheless, and I was flattered that he seemed to take such an interest. I told him about all the things I’d seen in the ER and goofy stories from medical school. I did get a few stories out of him after some prodding and saying that I was getting tired of hearing myself talk.

"What made ya wanna be a doctor?" he asked. I covered my mouth and yawned. As much as I loved talking with him, I was starting to get very tired.

“It’s kind of a silly story, to be honest,” I explained, looking down at my thumbs and twirling them back and forth over each other, “when I was a little girl, I wanted to be a princess when I grew up, because what little girl doesn’t want that? I thought they were so cool, so pretty. And they helped their people. That's what I wanted to do. I knew from a young age that I wanted to help people. When my oldest brother Preston was eight, he was in a really bad accident. Got hit by a car on his bike.”

I bit the inside of my bottom lip again, suppressing the memories of my frightened mother throwing her three small children in the car, not knowing if her oldest was still going to be alive by the time we caught up to him. “When we got to the hospital, my mom talked to one of the surgeons, and three-year-old me thought she was the most beautiful lady I'd ever seen. I remember she was wearing a floral dress under her white coat. I didn't understand at the time what exactly she was doing. All I knew was she was the lady who was making my brother feel better. I asked if she was a princess, and being that I was only three, she entertained me and told me yes."

A felt a small smile start to tug at the corners of my mouth. “So I told my mom that that's the kind of princess I wanted to be when I grew up. As I got older, of course, I learned what a doctor was, but I still had what I wanted to be set in stone. I wanted to help people the way that she helped my brother." I looked up at Daryl. He had uncrossed his legs and had them apart, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped, looking at me like with that same stoic look on his face. But there was something else there, a subtle glimmer in his eye, like I’d been telling him the most interesting story in the world and he was listening as intently as he could. My small smile turned into a little bit of a bigger one. “I told you it was silly.”

He shook his head. “Nah, not silly. S’cute.” He blinked a few times and shook his head a little, like he didn’t know what had gotten into him when he said that and was coming back to reality. "Ya best get to sleep. Look tired as all hell.” I yawned in response. Just hearing the word “tired” was enough to remind my body of how exhausted I was.

“I guess you’re right,” I said. I swung my legs off the couch and wrapped the blanket around myself again, rising to my feet. “What about you? I’m sure you’re exhausted. And you get to finally sleep on a mattress again.” He got up out of the chair to grab the whiskey he left in the kitchen hours ago.

“Late to sleep, early to rise, that’s how I roll,” he said, grabbing his drink off the counter and swirling it lightly. I followed him over to where he was standing.

“This was nice, Daryl. We should do it again sometime. If you’re down to, I mean,” I told him, beginning to step over towards the stairs before stopping again and turning to him.

I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the desire for human touch, or the desire to hold him and be held by him, but whatever it was was powerful. I reached my arms around his torso to give him a hug. I was only there for a second, barely touching him before I pulled back. He hardly had any time to react. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked first. Oh I’m so tired. That’s no excuse. I’m so sorry.” I thought I heard a soft, almost inaudible chuckle come from him.

“’S’alright.”

“I won’t do it again without asking, I promise,” I said, looking up to meet his beautiful blue irises, “and thank you again for the dress. I can’t wait to wear it.” I turned and started making my way up the stairs. “Goodnight Daryl. See you in the morning.”

“See ya when ya fall outta bed,” he called up after me. I rolled my eyes.

“Goodnight Daryl,” I repeated, more stern this time.

I collapsed back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. My head was spinning. I expected Daryl to hardly say a word to me when he got back, and not only did we have a conversation, but it lasted for hours. Did he pity me, as the new kid? He had to have been enjoying himself, right? If he didn’t, he probably wouldn’t have stayed for as long as he did. He didn’t seem like the type to continue doing something he wasn’t interested in to be “respectful” or whatever. Maggie had said that Daryl doesn’t ask “get to know you” questions to anyone. I guess that made me special.

What kind of special exactly, I wasn’t sure.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I decided to check on Aaron before I got on with the rest of my tasks for the day. I hadn’t gone to see him in about a week, and I needed to make sure he didn’t still need painkillers or antibiotics and had run out. Since Eric hadn’t come looking for me for more, I figured he was probably set on both. I felt bad that he was stuck up in that room all day. I could only hope that he had plenty of things to keep him occupied. And in the next few weeks, I was going to have to figure out how to get him a prosthetic.

“How’s he doing?” I asked as Eric let me in the front door, “I’m sorry I didn’t come by more. I figured since I left everything he’d need, he’d be good for a while. And of course that you’d come get me if you needed anything.”

“He’s been doing well. He’s been needing the pain meds less and less, and we’ve been changing the dressing once a day like you said. Sometimes twice because I’m paranoid,” Eric said, “and I’ve been helping him move around a bit upstairs like you said, to help get at least some movement in.” I nodded in approval.

“Sorry to come by so early. Is he asleep? I can come back later. It’s just been a while, so I wanted to make checking on him my first priority.” Eric shook his head as he walked me to the stairs.

“He might still be asleep, but it’s ok. He won’t mind. I try to spend as much time up there as I can so he doesn’t get lonely, but I think he’d enjoy having another person to socialize with too,” he explained, “I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if there’s anything you need. And thank you again Vector. For everything you’ve done for Aaron. I hate what happened to him, but I’m glad you were there.”

“You’re sweet, Eric. I appreciate that. I’m glad I was there too,” I replied, giving him the biggest, no-teeth smile I could before going upstairs.

I knocked gently on their bedroom door before letting myself in. Aaron looked like he was still asleep, so I stepped quietly over to the side of the bed and set my bag down.

“Aaron,” I whispered, lowering myself to the ground slowly so as not to startle him, “it’s Vector. I’m here for a check-in.” He stirred a little before opening his eyes and meeting my gaze.

“Mornin’ Doc,” he yawned.

“Hey, sorry to wake you. I hadn’t been by in a while, so I wanted to make sure I came here first thing today. How are you feeling?”

He pushed himself back with his hands until he was sat up against the headboard. “About as good as I can given the circumstances.”

“I’m gonna take a look at it, make sure it’s healing properly.” I slipped a pair of gloves on while he pulled the leg of his pants up to expose his leg.

“I think it looks ok. I’m sure it’s healing just fine. I’ve got the best surgeon east of the Mississippi,” Aaron said, cheerfully despite the sleep lingering in his voice.

“So what I’m hearing is there’s one to the west that’s better?” I teased, getting a laugh out of him. I peeled off the gauze and padding and set them down on the floor beside me.

“How are things with you and Daryl?” he asked, an enthusiastic smile spread across his face. Of course, when I decided that I would be stopping by this morning, I knew Aaron would have questions. I could feel myself starting to blush.

“Ok, I’m only giving you details because you seem to be one of the few people around here who can keep their mouth shut. I went to Michonne and Rick’s the other night and drank with her, Rosita, and Maggie, and when Rick and Glenn came back later, Maggie all but outright told them that I like Daryl. This is a HIPAA compliant conversation, you got it?”

“Understood.”

I told Aaron all about what I told the others, even told him about what Carol said regarding Daryl having talked to her about me, and our hours-long conversation the night before. Being the good friend and confidant that he was, he was happy for me and promised to keep everything I said under lock and key. I allowed myself to get a little giddy when talking about Daryl, like when I would be telling stories and he would look at me like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever heard, even if it was something I deemed as boring. Or how beautiful his eyes were and how I wanted to get lost in them and never find my way out. Glenn was right—it was a little schoolgirl crush.

My other duties for the day included seeing some patients and helping Maggie catch up on a literal metric ton of laundry. Daryl had daytime watch that day, so he was up and out before I was awake. He did, however, leave a mug of coffee out for me on the kitchen counter. It was such a tiny thing, but it was sweet and made my morning nonetheless.

As I loaded some clothes into one of the washing machines, Carol’s words echoed inside my head. Daryl’s…a bit skittish with…this kind of thing. Nervous, uncertain. I’ll leave it at that. Just be patient with him. Was that her subtle way of letting me know that Daryl was interested in me? What was “this kind of thing?” She very well could’ve been talking about friendship, but given how surprised everyone is when I tell them about something nice Daryl did for me and how “he never does things like that,” I figured she had to be talking about romance. But there was still so much he didn’t know about me. Things that I knew he wouldn’t like if he were to find out about them. Things that would change his view of me, I was sure.

Even if he was interested in Vector, he certainly wouldn't be interested in Lydia.

I brushed some hair out of my face as I flipped open my notebook. Maggie and I finished laundry a little while ago, and being that I was done seeing patients as well, I wanted to take some time to sit outside and enjoy the fresh air. I had hardly taken a moment to just sit and take in everything around me since I arrived in Alexandria. I was so excited to have found the place I’d been searching months for, to be around such good people and have some semblance of normalcy again, that I didn’t take time to sit and just be. I think I was afraid to, as sitting and just letting myself feel whatever I needed would certainly bring up some uncomfortable emotions. But I suppose that’s what my notebook was for. It carried the pain that was too much for me to handle.

As I leaned over my notebook, my hair cascaded around me like a set of dark curtains, blocking out my peripheral vision, and my bangs blocked part of my front view. I heard a familiar set of heavy footsteps making their way across the dirt path that lined the row of houses. Before I could lift my head to say hi, those footsteps were walking in front of me across the porch and stopping to my left.

“‘Sup Vec?” Daryl said as he slid down the front of the house and took a seat a few feet from me. Vec? That was the first time he’d called me that. I wasn’t opposed to him having a nickname for me, though. I thought it was cute. I lifted my head and swept my hair out of the way. He was sat back against the house, his legs propped up in front of him, resting his arms on his knees. It took everything in me to not scoot over to him, grab his arm, and rest my head on his shoulder.

“Hi Daryl,” I replied, closing my notebook in my lap and smiling at him, “how was your day?” I was disappointed to see him reach into his pocket and pull out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. I hadn’t seen him smoke before, so I imagine it wasn’t something he did too often. Cigarettes were probably not that easy to come by in the apocalypse. It was a gross habit regardless, and I did my best not to make a disgusted face as he put one in his mouth and lit it. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to say anything. “Lighting up in front of the doctor. That’s brave. Careful with that, you’ll start a fire.”

“Day was borin’ as hell. Didn’t see a damn thing up there. Guess that’s good though.” He took a puff of his cigarette and turned his head to blow the smoke in the opposite direction of me. When he turned back, he gestured to my notebook. “What’s that?”

“Oh, umm, it’s not important.”

“Seems important since ya always got it on ya,” he said, taking another puff of his cigarette. I twirled my pen in my fingers, trying to figure out how to explain what this little bound stack of papers meant to me.

“I, uh, started writing back in med school, when Preston and then my mom passed away, as a way to cope. It was something my therapist at the time suggested. I’ve filled probably a dozen notebooks over the years. This is the only one I brought with me when I went on the road.” I took a deep breath. “Sorry, I know that’s heavy.”

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it. Sorry ‘bout your family.” I gave him a small smile.

“Thanks. Preston was killed in combat. At least he died doing what he loved. I suppose that’s one of the better ways to go out, right?”

He took another puff of his smoke. “’S’pose so.” There was a few beats of silence before he spoke again. “How was your day?”

I was surprised but flattered at the reciprocation of my earlier question. I brushed my side bangs out of my face and twirled a chunk of hair around my index finger, another anxious habit I had. “It was good. I went and checked on Aaron this morning, tended to some injuries, and helped with laundry. Hadn’t done laundry in so long, I forgot how much of a bitch it was.”

“How’s Aaron?” Daryl asked.

“Given the circumstances, he’s as good as he can be. I’m going to have to start thinking about how to get him a prosthetic for when his leg heals.”

“We can go tomorrow. Rick wanted us to go on a run since it’s been a while. There’s a medical center nearby. They’d have some, right?” I cocked my eyebrow at him.

“Us? Again? I thought he didn’t want me going out much. And they might, depending on the kind of medical center.” I certainly wasn’t opposed to going out on a long run with Daryl. The idea was exciting, rather pleasing to be honest.

“Like ya said, good luck charm or somethin’.” I felt the butterflies in my stomach awakening. Him remembering a little joke I made back during our first run…I was swooning hard.

“Are you sure? He won’t need it for a few weeks still. We’ve got time,” I said. He flicked the ashes off the end of his cigarette and stomped them out with his boot. Somehow, he made something as gross as smoking look so attractive. I was kicking myself. You’re a doctor, Vector, what’s wrong with you?

“Might as well have it when the time comes.”

“I guess that’s true. Better than trying to scramble to find one when he needs it.” I looked down at my feet and wiggled my toes in my boots. While I loved being around and talking with him, he also made me nervous. I tried to focus on wiggling my toes to keep myself from turning red.

“Have ya eaten today?” Daryl asked me, dropping the butt of his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out. I turned my head and gave him an “oh really” face, giggling a little in amusement.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? You’ve been up in that watchtower literally all day,” I said, scooting myself backward a little to give myself leverage to stand up, “come on, I’ll make food.”

“Nah, I can, ya always do it,” he insisted, also bringing himself to his feet.

“I really don’t mind, honestly. I like doing it.” I decided to use this as an opportunity to be a little bit flirtatious. “Plus, your compliments of my cooking do feed my ego a little bit. You’ll have to be careful with that, I might start to get cocky.”

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Nine

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

Sleeping Beauty (c) Disney, Wednesday Addams (c) Charles Addams

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, reference to nightmares

Word count: 2.8k

Several days had passed since Daryl left. I’m not gonna lie, I missed waking up after falling out of bed and hearing my door open, peering up to see him standing there, making sure I was alright. Before he left, I was insisting to him that he didn’t need to keep doing that, but I hoped he would ignore me and continue when he returned.

When I wasn’t treating someone, I was helping around Alexandria in other ways. I helped with laundry, cooking, playing with Judith and some of the other kids (they had lots of questions about me being a doctor), tending to the garden, and figuring out how to make Aaron a prosthetic foot. I found a pair of scissors and nail clippers in the infirmary, so I finally got to clip my nails and cut a few inches of dead ends off my hair. I also invited Maggie, Glenn, and Rosita over for dinner one night and cooked for them. Every day, I felt more and more a part of the community and like I belonged there. At times, it would become overwhelming, and I would step away from everything to cry. After being on my own for so long, finding somewhere with good people that welcomed me so warmly was heartwarming, but it also made me ache for my parents, my brothers, and my best friend.

Having the house to myself for a week gave me plenty of time to think about Daryl. Think about our first run, think about every interaction we’ve had, think about what Michonne, Maggie, and Rosita had said, and think about what Carol said. That that wasn’t the first time he had talked to her about me. That he “didn’t hate me. Not even close.” I thought about what I was going to say to him when he got back. Thought about what he did with the note I left as I didn’t have it in me to check the trash can and possibly see it there.

It was starting to get dark out, and I had finished my duties for the day, so I went back home to make dinner. I had found a slow cooker in one of the cabinets in the kitchen, buried away, so I elected to make something I often made in college as I could just start up the slow cooker and leave it. I grabbed various ingredients out from the fridge and cabinets, washing produce off and dumping everything in the pot with water. I turned the timer on and headed upstairs to take a shower. It was a hair-washing day, so it was good that the food was going to take a few hours as I would have plenty of time.

I stopped in my room and grabbed a pair of pajamas. I had originally just been sleeping in my clothes, but the nights were getting chillier, so I needed something warmer. Rosita helped me find a red plaid flannel pajama set that fit perfectly. I had been bringing my clothes with me into the bathroom when I showered to avoid having to scurry around in a towel in case Daryl came back. I got the water running and undressed, stepping into the warm cascade of water.

Earlier, when I had been hanging out with and entertaining some of the children, they asked me what my favorite movies were when movies existed. I told them about my favorite Disney movie from when I was growing up—Sleeping Beauty. I told them all about the tale of Princess Aurora, the fairy godmothers, Prince Philip, and Maleficent. How Prince Philip slayed the dragon to save the princess. How they fell in love and got married. The music was one of my favorite parts, and as I washed and rinsed my hair, I found myself first humming, then singing the song “Once Upon A Dream” from the movie.

I kept singing as I finished my shower. I didn’t think I was perfect by any means, but at least I could hit the higher notes comfortably. The acoustics in the bathroom were stellar. I dried myself off and got into my comfy pajamas, grabbing my glasses off of the sink and putting them back on. I left the bathroom and gave my hair a quick run-through with the towel as I walked back to my room, continuing my serenade as I went.

I grabbed a couple of hair ties off my dresser and shook my hair out again, brushing through it with my fingers and parting it down the middle. I tightly braided each side so that it would turn out wavy again in the morning. I smiled, thinking about all of the times Preston would call me Wednesday when I did this with my hair. Apparently, long black braided hair immediately equals Wednesday Addams.

I grabbed my towel to take it back to the bathroom, and as I stepped out into the hallway, I heard a familiar, gravely voice from downstairs.

“Smells good.”

It felt like I jumped a foot off the ground with how startled I was. The adrenaline was pumping hard, and I turned to steady myself on the railing by the stairs. I looked up and saw Daryl standing in the kitchen, leaned back against the counter, a whiskey in his hand. He was dirty from head to toe, and his hair was disheveled as hell. Despite all the dirt and grime, he was still as handsome as could be. And even though I was startled to high hell, it was wonderful to hear his voice again.

“Christ dude, you have got to stop doing that. You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days,” I said, “but hi, you’re back. When did you get back?” I came down the stairs into the kitchen to check on the food. He shifted from leaning on the counter to the island as I entered, stopping to grab a ladle to stir the contents of the slow cooker.

“Long ‘nough ta hear ya in the shower,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink, his other arm folded across his chest. I immediately started blushing, and I felt nauseous at the thought of him judging my vocals. I wanted to die in that moment.

“Fuck. Sorry about that,” I said, gazing down at the floor, hoping he wouldn’t notice how red I was.

“Nothing to be sorry ‘bout,” he assured, “what’re ya makin’?” I lifted my head and met his eyes for just a second before I took the lid off the slower cooker and stirred it. This might’ve been the most I’d ever heard the man talk.

“Ok, you can’t laugh,” I said, chuckling a little and putting the lid back on, turning to him, “it’s something my best friend and I came up with in med school. It’s, umm…it’s called a dump ’n pray. You basically just take a bunch of stuff that would probably go well together, dump it all into a slower cooker, and pray that it turns out good. Usually it does. It’s got like a 98% success rate in my experience.”

“Smells real good,” Daryl said, and I gave him a small smile in response, “I uh, got ya somethin’ while we was out.” He leaned over and grabbed a bag off of the floor, and my heart rate picked up again. He opened the bag and pulled out something wrapped in a dirty beige scarf, “thought of ya when I saw it.”

I tried to think about something else to keep myself from turning red. Not just at the fact that Daryl got me something on his trip, but that he thought of me when he was out there. I wondered how often he did that, how often he thought of me exactly. Did he think of me as often as I thought of him?

I unwrapped the scarf carefully in case whatever was inside was fragile. I saw a navy blue fabric with a flower on it peeking out at me, so I grabbed it and let the scarf fall to my feet. The item in my hands was a long navy blue dress with large white flowers and a slit up one leg. It looked like it would fit me perfectly. Despite how dirty Daryl looked, the dress appeared clean, probably thanks to the scarf it was wrapped in. I immediately lit up, smiling big, running my hands on the fabric over and over again. The kind gesture, the fact that he wrapped it in a scarf to keep it clean…my heart swelled, and I felt that warm sensation in my chest again.

“Daryl, I…I don’t know what to say. This is beautiful. I love it. Thank you.” He simply nodded, and I had to ask the question that was scratching at the insides of my brain. “Did you remember?”

“‘Member what?”

“That my favorite color is blue.”

“Got lucky I guess,” he scoffed. He grabbed his things off the ground, including the scarf at my feet, set his drink on the counter, and slipped past me upstairs. I wouldn’t blame him for just wanting to be alone and going to bed to pass out. He was probably exhausted. However, I heard the shower turn on instead.

Once I heard the bathroom door close, I went upstairs to my room and folded the dress neatly, placing it in one of the drawers on the dresser. I grabbed my notebook and a pen and went back downstairs to the couch to do some writing while I waited for the food to finish.

I sat down on the couch and crossed my legs. I ran my hands over the cover of my notebook, my fingers gracing each sticker that they passed. There was a U.S. Navy one, a variety of flowers, a Johns Hopkins one, and some at gotten at a Ke$ha concert as she was my favorite artist. This notebook was my most recent, and it was one of my most prized possessions. I felt like it painted a picture of what my life had looked like over the course of the end of the world so far.

I got lost in what I was writing, eventually being pulled out only by the sound of the slow cooker beeping at me, telling me it was finished. I set my notebook down to get up, but as the beeping finished, Daryl came down the stairs, motioning for me to stay put. He looked clean as a whistle, small residuals of water still dripping from his hair. He had changed into a long-sleeved black shirt that hugged his arms and chest perfectly and a pair of black pants. I bit the interior of my bottom lip to focus on the pain in an attempt to keep myself from blushing or from my eyes lingering for too long.

“Stay sat. Ya made it, least I could do is get ya some,” he said. His gentlemanly attitude surprised me. Just over a week ago, he would hardly look in my direction and was frustrated at the thought of having to share a house with me. But I wasn’t going to say no.

“Oh, umm, okay.” I sat back down on the couch, crossing my legs again. I watched him move through the kitchen, grabbing bowls out of cabinets and spoons out of drawers. I did take just a moment to check out his butt as he moved around. And damn, did it look good in those pants. I quickly averted my eyes as he turned around and came over to me, holding a bowl out. “Thank you.”

He handed me a spoon and took a seat in the chair adjacent to the couch, propping his right foot up on his left knee and letting his body melt back into the chair. I had hoped that maybe he would come and sit down next to me, but I didn’t blame him for wanting his own space to stretch out. And he seemed to have a rather large personal bubble.

I stirred my concoction with the spoon. This one resembled a chili of sorts, not authentic considering the variety of vegetables. But Daryl was right—it did smell good. I scooped some up with my spoon and blew on it before taking a bite. I was impressed with how tasty it came out.

“Told you. 98% success rate,” I said. I set my bowl down on the coffee table for a moment while I adjusted my body, turning so I could stretch my legs out on the couch and grabbing it again. “How was the hunting trip?” He seemed to be more receptive to conversation tonight, so I was going to take advantage of that.

“Went good. Caught a big sum’ bitch. Probly still guttin’ 'em up outside,” Daryl explained, “sorry. We’re eatin’. Might make ya squeamish.” I laughed mid-bite and almost spit my food out.

“I’m a surgeon, Daryl. Nothing makes me squeamish. But I appreciate the consideration.”

“How’d ya sleep while I was away?” he asked. I thought it was nice that he was asking, wanting to know that I was still ok even when he wasn’t coming to check on me. Nice, but it also confused me. He didn’t seem to be the type to…I don’t know, ask questions like that? He was so cold and calloused towards everyone, me included. But right now, Daryl was warm, and dare I say, sweet.

“Alright I guess. The nightmares are getting more…vivid.” I immediately felt ashamed and stopped myself before I said too much “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” I stared into my bowl, stirring my food again, regretting what I had said.

“Keep goin’ if ya wanna,” he encouraged. I blinked a few times in surprise and looked up at him. He was looking at me, those beautiful blue eyes of his piercing through the few strands of hair that fell on his face. His bowl was in his lap, and it looked like he hadn’t touched it yet. I felt bad that he was waiting for me to finish talking because he was probably ravenous after his trip. But apparently, listening to lil’ ol’ me talk was more important than satiating his hunger.

“Umm…well they started off as just a blur of colors and physical sensations. And each night, something else becomes a little more clear. Now there’s sounds, but the visuals are still pretty fuzzy. I, umm…” my voice trailed off, and I felt small, a little scared even as I thought about how my nightmares were becoming more and more vivid. I knew what the nightmare was. I knew what it was going to look like when everything was clear, and that terrified me. I blinked a few times and shook my head a little to bring myself back to reality, and I realized I had started absentmindedly doing my little habit of scratching at my thumb with my index finger. “Sorry. Could…could we maybe talk about something else?” Rather than replying with a yes or no, he changed the topic.

“Ya likin’ it here so far?” Trying to shake the thought of my nightmares from my mind, I felt tears starting to well up in my eyes. I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes, faking a yawn to make it look like I was just sleepy. I blinked back the last little bit of tears and wiped the sides of my hands on my legs.

“Yeah, a lot,” I said, putting my glasses back on, “everyone’s so nice. I had Maggie, Rosita, and Glenn over for dinner the other night. They seem like really good people. I like them a lot. It feels good to be around other people and wake up in the same place every day.” I looked up at him, his bowl still in his lap. “You, uh, you can eat. You don’t have to just listen to me yap on.”

“They’re good people. Some of the best,” Daryl said, ignoring my statement about him eating, “ya really on ya own ‘fore ya got here?” His gravely voice and cute little Southern way of speaking was a match made in heaven for my ears.

“I was. Gimme just a minute and I’ll tell you all about it.” I set my bowl down on the coffee table and got up to use the bathroom and grab my blanket. As I got to the top of the stairs, I heard Daryl finally start eating. And judging by the sounds, he certainly was ravenous. I grabbed my blanket off my bed after I went to the bathroom and came back down. I was gone for no more than five minutes, and he had set his bowl on the coffee table as well, empty this time. I sat back on the couch, wrapped up in my blanket, chuckling lightly in amusement. I met his gaze again to continue my story.

“Food was good,” he said, “ya should make it again.”

“If you insist.”

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Eight

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, nightmares, references to being held at gunpoint, allusion to being tied up

Word count: 2.7k

The wine didn’t keep the nightmares at bay. In fact, I’m sure it made them worse. It was the same as last night, but there was a little more clarity this time. I could feel my hands above my head and a crushing weight on my body. The surface I was laying on was hard and cold, but I couldn’t tell what it was. Then it was the same—the fuzzy vision and the taste of metal and gunpowder being shoved into my mouth before I screamed.

I woke up on the floor hoping I hadn’t screamed out loud this time and woken Daryl again. I just laid there on the floor, waiting to see if I would hear my door open. After a moment, it did. The humiliation I had felt from the same situation last night came creeping back as I sat up and looked at him over the bed.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, pulling myself back to my feet and steadying myself on the bed. The hangover headache was already starting.

“Ya ok?” I was taken aback by his question.

“Umm, yeah, I think so. My head’s pounding, but I’m alright.” I could make out his features in the moonlight coming through my window—that messy mop of chocolate brown hair, his toned arms, his stoic but kind face, and those beautiful blue eyes. He was like a painting with how beautiful he was. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to get wrapped up in his arms and tell him just that. To get lost in those pools of blue and never find my way out.

“Ya hit your head?” His gorgeous half-asleep, half-awake voice was so good at pulling me back to reality. I was surprised he was asking so many questions.

“No, I think it’s just the hangover setting in. I’m so sorry, again. And I’m sorry in advance because this is probably going to keep happening. That’s how it was before I got here. You don’t have to keep checking on me, really.”

“A scream ’n a crash usually don’t mean nothin’ good in this world,” Daryl said.

“You really don’t have to keep coming in. I feel bad enough for waking you, let alone making you feel like you need to check on me,” I replied. I climbed back into bed, feeling the slight dampness of the sheets from the night sweats that had plagued me in my sleep.

“No promises.” I rolled my eyes slightly and rolled over, my back facing him and the door. I heard the door close, but not all the way, stopping just before it was latched.

“Daryl, can you close the door?” I shouted over my shoulder. I didn’t hear anything, nor did he come back. Not having the energy to get up, I huffed a “whatever” under my breath before closing my eyes and trying to fall back asleep. A couple of minutes later, as I was starting to drift off, I heard the door open again, the sound of something being set on my dresser, and the door closing, this time all the way. I rolled over enough to look back over my shoulder to see what it was.

There was a small glass of water on the dresser, accompanied by what looked like a bottle of Tylenol.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When I woke a few hours later, the sun had just risen, and I could hear birds outside my window, sitting on the ledge and chirping little songs to each other. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and yawned. I propped my head up, resting it on my hand to look out the window. There were two small chickadees perched outside my window with their backs to me. They were chirping back and forth at each other, and I wondered what their relationship was like—if they were family, if they were members of the same flock. Maybe siblings, maybe lovers.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and pulled myself up. Today, I was going to start seeing patients, and though I could still feel the hangover headache, I was going to have to push through. I walked over and grabbed some clothes out of a dresser drawer—a pair of black shorts, a black plaid button-up crop top, and the leg holsters for my gun and my knife--and got dressed. Even when my weapons weren’t in their respective holsters, having them on made me feel cool, like an apocalyptic video game character.

I leaned forward and tossed my hair over my head, brushing through it gently with my fingers before grabbing it and tossing it back, tying it up into a high ponytail. The glass of water and Tylenol were still sitting on the dresser, right where he had left them. I picked up the glass and swirled it gently in my hand, smiling. Such a small and kind gesture from such a rugged and stoic man made me swoon. I popped a couple of Tylenol out of the bottle and threw them back into my mouth, swigging back some water with them.

“I’da loved a kiss on the forehead, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t the cutest shit I’ve ever seen,” I said to myself, grabbing the Tylenol bottle and putting it in my pocket. I tossed back the rest of the water, feeling extra dehydrated from the hangover. I still hadn’t acclimated to being in a place where I could drink water whenever I needed to, which led me to often feel dehydrated.

I went downstairs and placed the meds on the counter and the glass in the sink. I planned to quickly make coffee and grab something to take with me to the infirmary to eat. I had informed the other residents that they could come by and see me today if they wanted a checkup or anything looked over. I got the coffee pot going and rummaged through the cupboard, grabbing a can of peaches and a fork out of a drawer and chucking them in my bag.

Once the coffee was done, I poured myself a mug and put the pot back in the machine to keep it warm in case Daryl wanted any. I took the cup with me to the front door, setting it down to put my boots on, but I had an idea. I pulled my notebook and a pen out of my bag and ripped a page out of the book. I decided to leave a little flirty note to thank him and wish him luck on his hunting trip. I half-expected to see it in the trash later, but I didn’t care.

Mornin’ sunshine

Thanks for the water and meds :)

Good luck on your trip

Sorry your good luck charm can’t come with

Try not to get hurt

Him and a couple of the other guys were going to be gone for about a week, is what Rick had told me. I was worried, yes, but I knew Daryl could handle himself. Plus, who would come check on me every time I fell out of bed in the middle of the night? I set the note on the counter by the coffee pot and went back for my boots, slipping them on and grabbing my mug as I headed out the front door, careful to shut it quietly.

The air was cool, and there was dew on the grass that captured the light of the now-risen sun, causing it to sparkle like glitter. I rubbed my arms to warm them, not expecting it to be so chilly. Lights were starting to come on in houses as people woke up and started their morning routines. I wondered if any of them had nightmares too, painful memories that interrupted their peaceful sleep every single night. I was envious at the thought, having not had a single night of uninterrupted sleep in months.

I flipped the lights on in the infirmary, setting my bag down on a table off to the side. I spent some time organizing things and labeling draws and cabinets with a pad of sticky notes I found. I soaked some scalpels and other small tools in a peracetic acid solution and set out some things I’d most commonly be reaching for, like gauze, padding, medical tape, alcohol wipes, etc.

I took some time to write and have my coffee and peaches before people started coming. Michonne came by first and brought Judith, and she immediately began teasing me about the night before.

“Did your big, strong, handsome man at home help you get into bed?” I scoffed as she held Judith on her lap, facing me so I could examine her.

“No,” I drawled out, “but he did make sure I didn’t fall and break my neck. I was so dizzy, I almost couldn’t see. Don’t let me drink again.” She smirked.

“How do you feel now?” she asked. Judith let out a sweet little giggle, and I couldn’t help but giggle along with her. She was doing great at holding still while I looked in her eyes, ears, etc.

“Better. A very friendly archer left some water and painkillers in my room when I was asleep,” I said, turning around to grab a stethoscope off the back counter. I opened a pack of alcohol pads and sanitized the whole thing before placing it in my ears.

“What?” Michonne practically shouted. I shushed her, and she lifted Judith’s shirt enough that I could listen to her heart and her breathing, both of which sounded perfect. After I had taken the stethoscope out, she continued. “That’s so nice. He really is a good man. Y’know, he was the first to feed Judith after she was born.”

“Huh?” I could feel myself melting into a puddle at the thought of burly, rough Daryl comforting a tiny newborn.

“I wasn’t there at this time, but I’ve heard the stories from Rick and Carl. Lori, Rick’s wife and Carl’s mother, passed away giving birth to Judith. There was no formula at the prison they were staying in at the time, so as soon as Daryl heard they would need formula for her to survive, he immediately took off on a run, talking about how they weren’t going to lose another person,” she explained, looking down at Judith as she talked, “Judith was crying incessantly, and when they came back from the run, Daryl took her from Carl right away and started rocking her, trying to calm her down, then took the bottle to feed her. And it worked. And he nicknamed her Lil’ Ass Kicker.”

I felt my heart swell and the butterflies in my stomach return as I pictured Daryl with little newborn Judith, her all swaddled up in a blanket and him rocking her back and forth, calling her cute names and telling her it was all going to be all right before giving her a bottle. I felt a warming in my chest.

“Michonne, do not sit here and tell me that the man I’m crushing on adores babies because I will lose it,” I gushed, “him dropping everything to go get damn baby formula…that’s so sweet. I am not well.” I tested Judith’s reflexes as the final step. “Everything looks and sounds fine. I saw some diaper rash cream in one of these drawers, let me give it to you in case you don’t have any.” I stood up to grab the tube out of its drawer.

There was a faint knock at the door, and I passed the tube to Michonne as I went past her and opened it. Carol was standing outside, waiting for her turn.

“Mornin’,” she said.

“Mornin’. Gimme like two seconds to finish up & I’ll get you,” I replied. She nodded as I shut the door. I turned to Michonne. “My next victim is here,” I joked, “do you need anything else from me?”

“No. Thank you for checking on Judith,” she thanked, lifting the baby up to rise from her chair.

“It’s what I’m here for,” I assured. I opened the door for her, and she slid out past Carol, saying hello as they did. I let Carol in past me and closed the door again. “You can sit in that chair there.”

“We haven’t gotten to talk much. How are you getting along with everyone?” she asked. I sat across from her, grabbing the tool to look into her eyes and ears.

“So far so good. Everyone’s really nice and welcoming,” I explained, holding the light to her eyes, “I feel like I actually fit in here.” I checked her ears and had her hold her arm out so I could check her pulse. She paused while I did that before continuing.

“Is there anyone you’re favoring in particular?” Carol wondered. I peered up at her over the top of my glasses, blushing, and the look on her face told me she already knew the answer.

“Which one of them told you? Cause they’re gonna have to square up when I’m done here,” I said, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“No one did. I may have overheard Glenn and Maggie talking about it,” she confessed.

“Well, I’ll have to tell them to pipe down then.” I scooted to the side so I could test her reflexes, turning to grab another alcohol wipe for my stethoscope when I was done. There was silence between us while I listened to her heart and checked her breathing.

“Daryl came and talked to me before he left,” Carol said as I draped the stethoscope around my neck.

“That’s cool.” It felt like such a dumb thing to say, but I was trying to play it cool. I didn’t know why she would be bringing that up, but I didn’t want to come across as too enthusiastic, just in case.

“He was talking about you. Wasn’t the first time either.” I felt my limbs get weak and all of the blood in my body rushed to my face. I must’ve looked like a lobster. Not the first time? I swallowed hard, which was audibly loud in the echo of the infirmary, and took a couple more seconds to regulate my breathing.

“As much as I want to know, I don’t want you betraying his trust to tell me. Can I just ask you one question?” I met her gaze and took a deep inhale through my nose. “Can you at least tell me whether or not what he’s saying is good or bad? I just want to know that he doesn’t hate me. But be honest, please.” She was quiet for a bit, choosing her words carefully. The knot in my stomach got tighter with each passing second.

“He doesn’t hate you. Not even close. He doesn’t harbor any kind of dislike towards you, really. Maybe some uncertainty, since you’re still new here, but nothing bad.” The speed at which relief flooded over my body almost caused me to become dizzy and pass out, and the ‘snap’ of the knot in my stomach untying itself almost made me throw up.

“That’s a relief, thank you. That’s all I wanted to know. Everything looks great by the way,” I said. She was looking down at the floor now, quiet, once again choosing her words carefully, before looking back up at me.

“Daryl’s…a bit skittish with…this kind of thing. Nervous, uncertain. I’ll leave it at that. Just be patient with him,” she said, getting up from the chair, “and don’t tell him I said anything to you.” I went over and opened the door for her, standing against it and keeping it open with my back.

“Doctor-patient confidentiality,” I joked, and she laughed. As she headed out the door, I mumbled “seems like I’m the only one around here who knows how to keep their mouth shut” to myself.

I had found some empty folders and papers that could be used as handwritten medical charts, so I sat down and started making ones for Judith and Carol. My thoughts were racing the whole time, wondering what Daryl could’ve been sharing with Carol about me. I took comfort in knowing that they didn’t seem to be bad, but not knowing exactly what it was only seemed to make my anxiety worse. Like I told Carol, I didn’t want her betraying Daryl’s trust by telling me everything he said. Which was true, but a small part of me wished she had shared even the tiniest detail.

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Seven

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, alcohol consumption (nothing excessive but Vector does get tipsy to the point she's dizzy)

Word count: 2.3k

“Oh my God, Vector, you have to tell us everything now. Have you talked to him much?” Rosita asked. She was beaming. I was beginning to regret the second glass of wine, let alone the third one in my hand. I set it down on the counter behind me, afraid that if I continued, I’d say some things I didn’t want to share.

“I mean, you know him, he doesn’t really like to talk. Rick sent the two of us on a run this morning. Talked a little bit, but nothing crazy.”

“You were alone with him outside the walls?” Michonne gushed, bouncing Judith up and down on her leg. Even the little baby, though she couldn’t understand what was happening around her, looked excited for me.

“Oh shut up,” I scoffed, “like I said, it was nothing crazy. We headed out, I tried to start a conversation, he shut me down, I showed off my combat skills because Rick told him to have me “prove them,” we got the shit and talked a little on the way back.” I paused for a moment, picking up my glass and taking another sip. I had decided I would need liquid courage if I was going to make it out of this conversation alive.

“Were you flirty at all?” Rosita asked. I felt my cheeks beginning to turn red again.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” I replied, tilting my head back and consuming the rest of my glass in one swig. I set it down again, this time not going to have another one. “I may or may not have told him that he should talk more because I like his voice…and that I could listen to him talk all day. Do you think that was too much?”

I scanned the room, looking at each of my new friends. Their jaws were on the floor, their mouths upturned into giddy smiles. They kept their eyes locked on me as I adjusted myself in my seat awkwardly. I held my breath, regretting that I had shared such a piece of information with people who were practically strangers, and waited for one of them to say something, anything.

“Oh my God!” Michonne finally exclaimed. I let out the air I was holding. “Well, what did he say?”

“What I imagine is a classic Daryl response, which is nothing.” Rosita got up from her chair to get herself another glass of wine.

“What did you talk about on the way back?” she asked as she passed by me to the kitchen.

I scratched at the skin at the side of my right thumb with my index finger, a habit I often fell to when I was especially anxious. “Umm, it was short. He started it, asked me why I go by Vector. I answered and that was it.”

“Girl! That is a get-to-know-you question. Daryl doesn’t ask those. Of anyone. And he’s the one who started it,” Maggie said. She stopped, briefly looking over my shoulder at Rosita before locking eyes with me again. “What were you doing when Rosita and I got there earlier to get you?”

I took my glass, which Rosita had so kindly filled with water, and sipped at it. “How’s that relevant?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Umm, I was just chilling in my room, sitting my the window, people watching. A butterfly came along at one point and joined me. Sat on my finger for a little, then on my nose before they flew away. Why?”

“Holy fuck, she’s like a goddamn Disney princess,” Rosita commented, plunking herself back into the chair she was occupying.

“How long were you doing that for?”

“Uh, I probably sat by my window for like half a hour. The butterfly situation lasted like five minutes maybe. Then I went to get up and had a damn heart attack because I didn’t realize Daryl was there. He didn’t say anything until I turned around. Again, why?” Maggie and Rosita exchanged excited glances, the same looks they exchanged on our walk over here, before Maggie continued.

“So when we got there, Daryl said he’d go get you. We were waiting for you for a few minutes. I saw him through the cracked door. He was just standing there in your doorway.” Her face was lit up at this point. “He could’ve just yelled for you or let us in to get you. I think he wanted an excuse to see you, talk to you, even for just a second. I think he was watching you the whole time.”

I felt the butterflies in my stomach fluttering like mad at the thought of him standing in my doorway, just watching me having a wholesome, innocent moment with a butterfly. If he indeed was standing there the whole time, what was he thinking about me? Did he think I was some dumb woman who clearly wasn’t cut out to survive the apocalypse? Did he think I was silly and there were better things I could be doing? Or did he think it was, dare I say, cute?

“I don’t know. I don’t even think he likes me. I think I’m being tolerated at best.”

“If he really didn’t like you, you wouldn’t have to guess. You’d know,” Maggie explained, “he’d make it abundantly clear.” Her reassurance, combined with the fact that she’d known Daryl for much longer than me, brought me some comfort. At least it seemed like he didn’t hate me.

“Well, if he wanted to see me or talk to me, he could just do that,” I said, “I don’t bite.”

“Daryl’s a little…too awkward when it comes to that. I don’t think he’s ever been with a woman,” Maggie replied. I cocked my eyebrow at her.

“What about a man?” I asked.

“I don’t think he’s ever been with anyone,” Michonne cut in. I turned my confused expression in her direction. I found it hard to believe that someone as strong, handsome, and mysterious as Daryl hadn’t been with anyone, romantically or otherwise.

“Him? Nah, I don’t believe he’s never been with anyone. Have you seen the man?” I rolled my eyes back and giggled. “He’s gorgeous. I’m sure there’s always been both men and women fawning over him.” They were now giggling at me, my level of tipsiness making itself known. Had I not eaten before coming, I’m sure I would’ve been far more drunk.

The front door handle jiggled, and in came Carl, Rick, and Glenn. Glenn waltzed over to Maggie, practically scooping her up to give her a kiss. Carl gave me a small wave and a “hey Vector” before walking past us to his room, presumably. Rick approached Michonne and gave her a smooch as well, taking Judith before turning to me.

“Makin’ friends Vector?”

“You know it, cowboy.” When I first got here and woke up in the cell, I had asked Rick for his name so I could address him properly, but ever since, I had almost exclusively referred to him as “cowboy.”

“Rick, Glenn, we have a question for you,” Maggie asked them. Michonne and Rosita looked like they were trying to stop themselves from busting out laughing.

“No we don’t.” I was perhaps a bit too quick with my response.

“Do you think Daryl’s ever been involved with anyone romantically? Is that something y’all’ve talked about?” She was trying to suppress her own laughter at this point. Glenn and Rick exchanged glances. Rick took the liberty of responding for both of them.

“He’s never talked about it, we haven't asked. But no, I don’t think he has. Why?” Maggie turned to me and gave me a “see, told you” look. Her diverting her attention to me caused Glenn and Rick to follow, as if her doing so was an answer to Rick’s question. I was probably more red than the brightest tomato any of them had ever seen.

“Does somebody have a little schoolgirl crush?” Glenn teased.

“Are you shitting my dick right now?” I mumbled under my breath, “y’all don’t keep secrets around here, do you?”

“If it makes you feel better, I think I can speak for both Maggie and I when we way we would’ve let it slip to them at some point,” Michonne said. I hopped up off of my stool and walked over to my boots.

“I don’t see how that’s supposed to make me feel better. None of you are to say a word to him about this. Aaron’s the only other one who knows.”

“So almost all of us that really know Daryl know about it?” Rosita laughed.

“I guess, yeah.” I figured Glenn and Rick getting back was the sign that it was time to leave, so I started zipping my boots up. Rosita got up and came to do the same, as did Maggie, Glenn following close behind her. ”Thank you for inviting me to hang with y’all. Now what we discussed in this room stays in this room. This circle is HIPAA compliant. Do I make myself clear?” They all nodded.

“Crystal,” Michonne smiled. I finished putting my boots on and stepped out of the way for the others to do the same. I followed them out the door and down the steps of the front porch after saying goodnight to Rick and Michonne.

“Invite me again when y’all do that,” I said, “but don’t let me drink so much. I’m starting to feel dizzy.” I held my hands out at my sides, just a bit, to help myself as I walked.

“Geez, you really are a lightweight. You gonna be ok?” Maggie asked, placing a hand on my shoulder as we continued.

“Don’t worry, she has a big, strong, handsome man at home that can help her up into bed,” Rosita teased. I was too focused on making sure I didn’t fall over as I walked to come up with a clever response to her snarky remark.

“Oh hush,” was all I could muster up.

Glenn and Maggie’s place was first, and Rosita walked with me the rest of the way to mine, as hers was past me. She made sure I got up the front steps without falling before heading off.

“Hey Rosita?” I slowly turned to her, and she stopped and looked back at me, “y’all are really cool. Thanks for allowing me to come.”

“Anytime. Now just get into bed safe,” she commented, turning and heading off. I slowly approached the front door and tried to be as quiet as possible as I let myself in in case Daryl was asleep.

But he wasn’t. He was standing in the kitchen, and he had just poured himself some whiskey. It smelled like gasoline and only made my dizziness worse. I let the door close softly behind me and carefully lowered myself to the ground to take my boots off.

“The hell ya doin’?” I turned my head in his direction, and by that point I was so dizzy that all I could make out clearly was vague shapes and colors. I could tell he was wearing something black, and he was leaning over the kitchen island, but that was about it.

“I…am a lightweight…and I’m…so dizzy right now…I can barely see you…” I took my shoes out from under me and cautiously stood up, making sure I had my footing before I started walking toward the stairs.

“What’d ya drink?” Daryl asked. My lack of sobriety made me question whether or not the slight hint of concern in his voice was real or if I had imagined it.

“I had…three glasses…of wine…” I replied.

“Jesus, ya really are a lightweight.” I kept my hands out at my sides to maintain my balance, stepping and stopping for a moment before taking another one, “careful goin’ up them stairs now. Fall and break ya neck if ya slip, and I ain’t cleanin’ that up.” I didn’t say or do anything, I just kept my slow pace toward the stairs. As I approached the bottom step, I heard Daryl’s footsteps come around from the kitchen and stand somewhere behind me.

“What are you…doing?” I turned my head to talk back over my shoulder.

“Makin’ sure ya don’t break ya neck. We just got a doctor. Can’t have her gettin’ herself killed that fast.” He swirled his whiskey in his hand. I didn’t notice the sound of ice clinking against the cup. The man took his whiskey neat—couldn’t say I was surprised by that.

I carefully stepped up onto the first step, grabbing onto both sides of the railing with my hands to steady myself. To say I was humiliated would be an understatement. I didn’t need a babysitter, but my low tolerance for alcohol demanded I have one.

“Well this…is…embarrassing,” I said as I continued making my way up the steps.

“Nah, we all get a lil’ too drunk sometimes,” he said, “easy escape in a world like this. Hard not to.” After I was probably halfway up, I heard his footsteps again, this time coming to the bottom of the steps before stopping. When I was almost at the top, he came up the stairs a bit, always making sure to leave a distance of several steps between us. I didn’t know if that was because he was uncomfortable getting too close or he didn’t want me getting uncomfortable with him getting too close. Once I had finally made the long, arduous journey to my bedroom door, I turned back to him. My dizziness was only getting worse, but I could make out the shape of him on the steps, facing my direction.

“Thanks for…not letting me…break my neck…Daryl.” I gave him a tipsy smile and a two-finger salute. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” he responded. I shut the door, taking my glasses off and setting them on my dresser before allowing myself to fall back onto the bed. I crawled up toward my pillow and was asleep before my head even touched it.

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Six

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, alcohol consumption (nothing excessive but maybe they get a little tipsy), brief mention of blood/medical stuff, joking about getting someone drunk

Word count: 2.6k

For the most part, the ride back was silent. I stared out the window, overthinking about everything I had said to Daryl over and over again. I wasn’t sure what had changed, but the silence was comfortable this time. Just before we got back, he finally spoke up.

“Why do ya go by Vector?”

“Hmm?” His lovely voice pulled me from my dissociation.

“Ya name. Why do ya go by Vector?”

I thought for a moment about what to say. No one had ever asked me why I never went by my first name. It was still a rather sore subject, not gonna lie, but I didn’t want to shut him down from conversation now that he was seemingly starting to open up. I thought of what to say as I went.

“Well…Vector is who I am now. I’ve, uh…had to do some things that past me can’t handle. Thus, Vector was born.” I stopped for a moment and took a deep breath before continuing “Me before used to sing in the shower, wear sundresses, dance in the street, pick flowers on walks, smile with my teeth out…shit like that. Haven’t done any of that in God knows how long.”

We pulled around to the front gate, and Daryl made some kind of signal out his window to indicate it was us. He parked around the front, where the car was before, and jumped out and around to the back. I followed suit, him saying something about going out hunting with one of the other guys shortly.

“Hey Daryl?” He set the boxes that he had grabbed down and turned his gaze to meet mine. I gave him a soft smile. “Thanks for asking. No one’s ever bothered to ask me about that before.” He simply nodded and went back to what he was doing. I heard footsteps running up behind me, so I turned to see Maggie practically running into me.

“Eric’s looking for you,” she said. The tone in her voice didn’t indicate there was any kind of urgency, but given that someone was looking for the doctor, and that this person was the partner of the person who likely needed medical attention most, I had reason to be concerned.

I turned to Daryl. ”Do you want help before I go?”

“Nah,” he scoffed, using his hand to make a “shoo, go away” motion, “go on, doc.” I turned and walked off with Maggie in the direction of Eric and Aaron’s place.

“Hey, Rosita and I are getting together tonight. Michonne’s got Judith duty, so we’re gonna keep her company. You should come.” Excitement built up in my chest at the thought of possibly having a group of girlfriends again. "We’re gonna chat, get wine-drunk, maybe talk a little too intimately about our gentleman callers. It’ll be fun.”

“That sounds awesome. Yeah, I’ll for sure be there,” I replied, “and uh, Maggie…thank you again. For everything you’ve done for me since I got here.” I stopped her and gave her a hug. “You’re a good friend.”

“It’s not a problem, really. Us gals gotta stick together, right?”

“Damn straight. Wait, I have something to show you.” I dropped my bag to the ground and dug into it, pulling out the two small boxes of tampons I managed to find. "Look what the hell I found!” She grabbed the boxes from me, flipping them around until she realized what they were.

“Damn, this stuff’s like gold around here,” Maggie laughed.

“That’s what I said,” I replied, chuckling and taking the boxes back from her, shoving them back into my bag.

“Anyway, Rosita and I will stop and get you on our way to Michonne and Rick’s.” I smiled in response, and she walked off, myself continuing over to Eric and Aaron’s. Eric was sitting on the steps of their front porch, reading a novel of some sort.

“You were looking for me?” I asked him. He tilted his head up from his book and practically leaped up when he saw me. I was impressed with the speed at which he brought himself to his feet.

“Aaron said he needed to see you when you got back,” Eric explained, opening the door for me and letting me in in front of him, “he didn’t say why.” I unzipped my boots and kicked them off, leaving them by the front door. He sounded worried, as any partner would.

“Well, hopefully, it’s not too bad then,” I reassured, “you wait here, and I’ll come get you if he asks. Y’know, doctor-patient confidentiality and whatnot.” He nodded and stepped back out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. I tried to remember what sorts of medications I grabbed on my run, in case I needed to access them quickly.

I knocked softly on the door and announced myself before entering. “Hey Aaron, it’s Vector.” I stepped in, and he was laying in the same spot on the bed I’d left him in. I didn’t immediately notice and bleeding from his leg, no discoloration in his face or arms, no rashes I could see, and he wasn’t making any kind of face to indicate that he was in immense pain. In fact, he was smirking. “You needed me?” He giggled and gestured for me to sit down on the floor next to him.

“Nah, I just wanted to know how your run with Daryl went.” I felt my eyes rolling so hard, I could practically see the inside of my skull. I let out an exasperated sigh.

“Dude,” I huffed, “you cannot scare me like that. And Eric. He was really concerned something was wrong.”

“Yeah, not my best move. But you said not to tell anyone. How else was I supposed to get you here?”

“Oh, I don’t know, ask,” I sassed, “but anyway, do you want to know or not?” He nodded, and I plopped myself down cross-legged on the floor next to the bed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I spent probably half an hour with Aaron, explaining how the run went and me overthinking and over-analyzing every single little thing that both of us said and did. Afterwards, I went and reassured Eric that everything was fine without giving away any info about Aaron having lied to get me there.

I came back to an empty house, so I figured Daryl was out hunting. Not knowing how long I’d have to myself, I took the time to do some cleaning up. It wasn’t terrible in there, but to sum it up nicely, you could tell a man lived there alone until yesterday. I had to borrow cleaning supplies from Carol after not being able to find any around the house.

“I’m glad you’re here. Someone’s gotta keep that place clean,” she joked.

I had retrieved some produce and herbs from the garden, which felt like such a treat. Being able to pick fresh produce after so long was like a dream. I used them to make soup for dinner, which I made a larger batch of to leave some for Daryl. I knew I wasn’t obligated to cook for both of us, but I enjoyed making food for other people. While it cooled, I took a quick shower, as I didn’t have to wash my hair this time, and changed into a workout set I had brought with me, consisting of a pair of black spandex shorts and a black sports bra that was more built like a crop top. To kill time until my new friends came, I sat down next to the window in my room and opened it up to allow the breeze in.

I folded my arms and rested them on the windowsill, resting my chin on them. I could see some of the other residents of Alexandria, whom I didn’t know very well, and Carol working out in the garden. The sun was going to start going down soon, and I wondered if Daryl was going to be back before it got dark. Sure, he was a strong guy, and he could clearly take care of himself, but I felt more comfortable knowing he was safe inside the walls.

A bright little butterfly came over and joined me, fluttering around my head. I slowly put my hand out, sticking my index finger out on the off chance that they would land on me. Surprisingly, and lucky for me, they gracefully landed on the padding of my finger.

“Hi my sweet,” I whispered as to not scare them. As a kid, I had a fascination with butterflies, moths, any pollinators really. When my mom wasn’t being the best family law attorney around, she was in her garden, tending to her flowers. She made sure to teach my siblings and me the importance of the local pollinators. Butterflies, bees, hummingbirds…they all made me think of her. “Aren’t you just the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen?”

They stood on my finger for a bit, sometimes adjusting their footing and flapping their wings softly, as if to show off their bright hues. All I could think about was how much my mom would love this. She’d be gushing quietly, tiptoeing over to retrieve her phone to snap a picture.

I had an idea, and I slowly began to lift my hand toward my face. I closed my eyes as to not intimidate them with my large peepers and brought my finger to the tip of my nose. I felt their little legs moving around, and they made their way onto my nose. I smiled, keeping it small so I didn’t hit their wings with my cheeks. They continued moving their wings occasionally, and I did feel them tickle my face a couple of times, which made me giggle softly.

I felt them turn their body around to face back out the window. I lifted my index finger back to my nose, and they scuttled back across to it. “Thank you, sweetheart.” I gently put my hand out the window, and with that, they gave a few more beats of their wings before flying away. If I believed differently, I would’ve thought that was my mother coming to greet me. But I didn’t believe in any of that stuff.

I sat there for a few moments, watching them fly away off toward the community garden. I hoped they would grace the other residents with their presence as they had graced mine. I shifted myself around to get up, and I saw Daryl leaning in the door frame, arms crossed, watching me. I almost had a heart attack from being startled.

“Jesus Christ!” I yelped, falling back onto the window, “how long have you been standing there? You scared the shit out of me. I didn’t even hear you come in.” He didn’t acknowledge my question, or anything else I said, in his response.

“Maggie ’n Rosita are here for ya.”

“Oh, sick.” I got up and slid past him, our arms brushing as I went by. That moment felt like forever, the moment that my skin met his, and it gave me goosebumps and nearly had me tongue-tied as I tried to talk. “I, uh, made dinner. It shouldn’t be scalding now. You’re welcome to whatever you want of it.” He looked like he wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“Thanks,” was all he said. He kept his position in the door frame, arms still crossed. I scurried down the stairs to my boots and quickly put them on, opening the door to see my friends. I turned back to Daryl.

“See ya later.” I gave him a smile before closing the door and following Maggie and Rosita. They were looking at each other, the looks on their faces communicating things they weren’t saying out loud.

Michonne answered the door with Judith in her arms, and she seemed excited to have the company. Her face was beaming. I figured this was something these three did often, got together and just had girl time. I hadn’t had girl time in years.

“What are Rick and Carl up to tonight?” I asked, propping myself up on one of the bar stools next to Michonne. Judith was giggling and babbling, looking around at the rest of us with the fascination only babies possessed.

“I don’t know, father and son target practice or some shit,” Michonne explained, “said Glenn and some of the other guys were gonna join.”

“I’m gonna pour myself a glass,” Rosita said, walking into the kitchen, “rest of you want one?” Michonne and Maggie giggled and nodded. “Vector?” I fidgeted a little in my seat.

“I don’t know. I don’t think Alexandria’s only medical professional should be drinking. Plus, I’m a bit of a lightweight.”

“Oh come on, this is what we’re here for,” Maggie exclaimed, “to drink a little too much and act like everything hasn’t gone to shit.”

“You’re here now. It’s safe. You can relax a little bit,” Michonne assured.

“Ok, but just one,” I replied, “If I drink too much, I’ll start saying things I don’t wanna.” The three exchanged glances and smirked.

“We’re gettin’ her drunk, right?” Michonne said to them, smiling.

“Oh yeah,” Rosita laughed, followed by Maggie’s “absolutely.” I rolled my eyes and accepted the glass Rosita held out to me. I wasn’t much of a red wine drinker, but with how much of a lightweight I was, wine was the safest option.

The evening turned into a gossip session. They asked me a lot of questions about my life before this, and I theirs, and what got me interested in being a doctor. I got to hear way too many details about the sex lives of Maggie & Glenn and Rick & Michonne. Maggie made a comment about something Glenn liked, and I nearly spat my drink out.

“I’m going to try to forget about that,” I laughed.

Minutes turned into hours, and I was eventually two glasses deep, despite my initial protest of only one. Michonne attempted to hand me a third. I was already tipsy, but like Michonne said, I could relax a little bit. I would start being a serious community member tomorrow.

“What about you, Vector? How are you getting on with everyone?”

“Everyone here’s been wonderful. Y’all are so kind. I can tell that people here really care about each other. Thanks again for letting me stay,” I said, holding my glass up as if I was giving a toast.

“Anyone here particularly wonderful?” Maggie asked, chuckling. I bit my bottom lip. I knew what she was asking, but I hoped feigning ignorance would change the subject.

“What do you mean?”

“Is there anyone you’re interested in…romantically or otherwise?” I couldn’t say I didn’t try.

“Well, seeing how many of the men here are taken, the options are limited.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” She eyed me as I took another sip of my wine. "If we guess it right, will you tell us?” I swirled the drink in my hand, my heart rate picking up as my anxiety spiked.

“Again, the options are limited, you’d eventually get it right, so I guess yeah, go for it.” They squealed like a group of girls in high school and started naming off the male residents, all of which I either said no or shook my head to.

“Does that just leave Daryl? No…is it Daryl?” Michonne asked. I could feel myself starting to turn red, and their faces began to light up at the realization that they had got it right. I averted my gaze from the group. They were squealing like a bunch of high-school girls. Rosita practically jumped out of her chair.

“You’re blushing so hard right now!” she yelled, pointing at me.

“I have got to figure out how to stop doing that,” I mumbled to myself.

Masterlist

Started: 9/30/24

Updated: 10/10/24

Total Works: 5

The Walking Dead:

Finding Myself, Finding You:

➼ Chapter One

➼ Chapter Two

➼ Chapter Three

➼ Chapter Four

➼ Chapter Five

➼ Chapter Six

➼ Chapter Seven

➼ Chapter Eight

➼ Chapter Nine

➼ Chapter Ten

➼ Chapter Eleven

➼ Chapter Twelve

➼ Chapter Thirteen

➼ Chapter Fourteen

➼ Chapter Fifteen

➼ Chapter Sixteen

➼ Chapter Seventeen

Incorrect Quotes (I guess that's what I'd call these):

➼ Original Idea #1

➼ That one Tiktok Audio

➼ Original Idea #2

➼ Original Idea #3

Oneshots (coming soon):

I have too many ideas and I can't write them fast enough.

I'm crawling out of the sewer to say it again: don't let anyone stop you from writing what you want to write.

Don't let people saying your writing is too 'self indulgent' stop you.

Don't let people saying your writing is 'not original enough' stop you.

Don't let people saying 'you shouldn't write this' stop you.

Write what compels you.

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Five

Masterlist

AO3 link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, typical TWD violence (killing walkers), Daryl being kind of mean, mentions of a sex toy, mentions of blood (if you squint, maybe?)

Word count: 2.4k

After some time, Eric brought breakfast upstairs, and we spent probably a few hours there, just chatting and getting to know each other. They told me about how they met, their families, how they ended up in Alexandria. I told them about my family, some of the things I’d seen working in the ER, my best friend on the other side of the country. They also told me more about the other residents of Alexandria. It was nice to just be able to sit back and shoot the shit with other people. To be able to commune with my fellow humans again, to spend hours simply talking with other people--it brought me a feeling of peace that I didn’t know would be possible again in a world like this.

Eventually, there was a knock on their front door, and Eric got up to answer it. Shortly thereafter, there was an additional set of footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Vector!” I heard Rick call out. I cocked my head back as I heard him step into the room.

“‘Sup cowboy?” I asked him. Aaron chuckled softly. “Are my medical services required?” He shook his head.

“I want you to go out on a run with Daryl,” he explained. I felt my breath catch in my throat, and those butterflies from this morning returned and continued their dance in my stomach.

“Hmm-what?” I choked out.

“A short one. I think it’d be good for you to see what they’re like. Since you’re our medic, you won’t really be going outside the walls if we can help it,” he said. I let you a small sigh and nodded.

“Does this mean I can have my weapons back?”

“Yes, they’re all downstairs.”

“Kay, I’ll be down in a sec,” I replied. I felt Aaron place a hand on my shoulder as Rick made his way down the stairs. I grabbed a couple rolls of gauze and pads, as I always like to have some on my person. The rest were left on the nightstand next to Aaron. I looked back over my shoulder and saw him smiling at me. “Don’t say anything. I want to throw up. Now do you remember the medication instructions?”

“Sure do,” he replied. I put my backpack over my shoulders and propped myself up to my feet.

“If you need anything, I should be back soon,” I said, then lowering my voice to a whisper, “wish me luck.”

“You’ll be fine,” he assured. I gave him a small smile before turning and heading down the stairs. I grabbed my weapons off the table, sliding my leg holster back on and putting one of the guns in it. I stopped and thanked Eric for their hospitality before heading outside.

There was no sign of Daryl, so I started making my way to the front gate. As I passed by our place, though, he and Rick came outside.

“The new girl? Ya serious?” Daryl said, clearly irritated.

“She claims to have amazing combat skills,” Rick responded, looking over at me, “let her prove it.” I folded my arms across my chest and locked eyes with Daryl, shoving the flutters back down into my stomach.

“I mean, if you really want, I can prove it right now. Unless you're scared” I smirked, “and don’t worry. When you get bit, I can amputate your foot as well.” Daryl shoulder-checked Rick as he walked past us, his crossbow swaying against his back. I looked back at Rick and gave him an “oh no” face.

“Thoughts and prayers,” I mouthed, crossing my fingers and turning to follow Daryl to the front gate.

I spent the short walk trying not to throw up. My anxiety was through the roof, and I started overthinking about what I would say. A gentle breeze blew through his hair. It looked so soft, which complimented how rugged the rest of his appearance was. Near the front gate, there was a small car waiting for us. I was under the assumption we would be walking, but hopefully, a car meant that there would be a good amount we would be bringing back. I buckled myself up, and once the ok was given to open the gate, we were off. I didn’t know where we were going, but he seemed to. My eyes fell to my rope scars, and feeling triggered, I pulled my knife out and whipped it open, holding the handle and resting it on my leg pointing upwards. I guess Daryl could see it in his peripheral vision.

“I ain’t gonna hurt ya,” he said, keeping his eyes ahead of him.

“I don’t know that,” I replied, looking over at him and eyeing him up and down. He had his left arm resting on the windowsill, right hand on the steering wheel. He looked so calm, like this was just another day for him, like he’d done this a thousand times. Like the world hadn’t completely fallen apart around him. Just the sight of him made me swoon.

“Don’t ya think if I wanted, Id’da done somethin’ already?”

“I guess, yeah.”

There was silence for what felt like ages. Uncomfortable silence. Usually, I wasn’t one to be bothered by such a thing, but this time was different. I wanted to get to know this beautiful human. I wanted to know that he didn’t hate me.

“So…Daryl…what, uh…what did you do…before…before all of this?” He didn’t say a word, didn’t even look at me. I was already kicking myself.

“Well, I guess I’ll talk about myself then. I was literally a month away from finishing my residency, and my brothers were home from deployment. I think the last surgery I did was a skin graft for a burn victim. Uh, my favorite color is blue—“

“Why?” I was surprised to hear anything come out of him, let alone a question that would allow the conversation to continue.

“Oh, uh, I guess I’d never thought about that. Maybe beca—“

“No, why are ya still goin’ on?” I leaned back and stared out the passenger window. That one did sting a little bit. I figured maybe talking about the world before all of this may have been a touchy subject.

“Ooh, do you wanna see my more unique weapon?” If he didn’t want to talk, I thought I could potentially get a laugh out of him. I put my knife away and reached into my bag, moving shit around until I grabbed it and pulled it out. I held it up, making a semi-enthusiastic face.

“The hell’s that?” he asked.

“It’s a vibrator,” I said, smacking the top part against my hand, “it doesn’t work, but you hit ‘em upside the temple with this end, and they’re down. Plus, there’s just something so woman about stabbing a Walker through the eye with a sex toy.” I smiled, hoping maybe he’d at least chuckle or giggle a little. But nothing. I put the vibrator back in my bag, feeling defeated.

After another period of silence that felt like ages, we pulled up to a small pharmacy in the middle of nowhere. It looked rather desolate, so there hopefully wouldn’t be too many Walkers to deal with. I turned to Daryl as he slowly pulled up and put the car in park.

“You’re not much of a talker, are you?”

“Smart girl. No wonder you’re a doctor.” I was a bit taken aback. It was like he was being snide…but also kind of complimenting me at the same time? And I quite liked when he called me “smart girl.”

“I think you should talk more, Daryl.” I swallowed hard before continuing. “I like your voice. I could listen to you talk all day.” I opened my door and quickly hopped out, unsheathing my spear and looking around to make sure the coast was clear. I turned back and looked into the car, seeing him still sitting there, this time staring at me. ”Are you coming or not?” I shut the door and started making my way towards the pharmacy. I heard him get out, close his door, and lock the car.

He stepped ahead of me and pried the sliding doors open just enough for us to fit through. The only light that illuminated the small building was coming in from the front door and the windows around the top. He start slowly heading inside, his soft footfalls hardly making a sound.

“Hold on, I got this,” I whispered. I whistled loudly, the sound echoing off the walls. I heard some shuffling, and a few Walkers appeared from a couple different aisles, slowly sauntering their way toward us.

“Are ya stupid?” Daryl scolded.

“Rick wanted me to prove my combat skills, so that’s what I’m doing,” I explained.

I stepped by him and launched my spear forward at the first one, hitting it square in the forehead. I yanked it out and propped myself up onto one of the shelves to the left, climbing up it like a small ladder and flinging myself over the top to the next aisle. I landed on my feet and whipped around to the next Walker, stabbing up through the bottom of its jaw and through the top of its head. I dropped my spear with it as it fell and ran to the one behind it, taking it out with my knife. Lastly, I ran back to the aisle that was to the right of the one I started in. This last one was a bit taller than me, so I backed up to take a slight running head start. I launched myself into the air and dropkicked the Walker to the ground, using my knife to finish it off. Once I was sure it was finished, I wiped the knife off on this Walker’s shirt and walked back to Daryl. He looked surprised that not only had I finished them off which such speed, but I did it by myself. Before either of us could say anything, another one rounded the corner and started coming at us.

“Oh, looks like I missed one,” I said, turning back to Daryl and making eye contact with him. I threw my knife back over my shoulder, hitting the Walker in the head and hearing their limp body fall to the ground. “You’re welcome.” I smirked and maintained eye contact for a moment. His eyes were the most stunning shade of blue I’d ever seen. I thought for just a second about being flirty and saying that my favorite color is blue because it’s the color of his eyes, but I didn’t have the guts to be that forward. I had already made the comment about his voice, which could be interpreted as flirty, and I didn’t even know what possessed me to do that.

I turned back to retrieve my knife, and he headed over to the opposite side of the building to check for other people who may have been hiding out. I headed to the right side to do the same. Once we knew for sure the coast was clear, we started scavenging for things.

“Aw hell yeah,” I exclaimed, picking up a box off of the ground, “I found tampons!” I heard Daryl make a sound from a few aisles over. I couldn't decipher whether it was a scoff or a chuckle. “Listen, you try bleeding out of a hole in your body every 4 weeks with almost no way to really deal with it. This shit is like gold for women now.” I shoved the box into my bag and grabbed another one that I could see. I heard him putting things into what I guessed was a box that he found. We rummaged around for a bit before I found another thing to be excited about.

“Holy shit, is that a can of soup?” I picked up the lone can of tomato soup and tossed it into my bag. I stood up and got on my tiptoes to look over the aisles. I could see Daryl a couple of aisles away. “Everything looks incredible when you’ve been surviving off of freeze-dried astronaut food for longer than you can remember.” I walked my way over to the actual pharmacy section of the store, hoping I’d be able to scrounge up more painkillers and antibiotics. We got lucky, and I was able to find those things, as well as barbicide, bandages, anti-itch cream, and a myriad more.

I stood up, fanning myself off. It was scorching in there, and there was almost no airflow. The only air coming in was from the front door, which I was nowhere near. My chest was already lifted from the sports bra I was wearing, but I used my forearms to lift them a bit more, trying to get literally any airflow underneath to help myself cool off.

“You wanna know what’s annoying about having breasts, Daryl?”

“Nah, but I’m sure ya gonna tell me anyway.”

“It’s like having two heat packs strapped to the front of your body at all times, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” I explained, “it’s fucking hot up in this bitch.” A bead of sweat dripped down behind my glasses and into my eye.

“Well we about cleared the place out,” he said, coming in through the pharmacy door, “help me grab this.” I nodded and followed him out. He had found four boxes that he used to fill with various items.

“Wow, we really did luck out,” I said, grabbing two of them and stacking them on top of each other, lifting them from the handles of the one on the bottom, “I mean, it’s obvious why.” We started heading back to the car, looking around out the front door to make sure the coast was clear first.

“Why?” He popped the trunk open and set the boxes he was carrying down, scooting over so I could place mine in.

“Because I’m a good luck charm,” I joked, “maybe I should come out on these runs more often. And don’t forget to tell Rick that my combat skills are exactly as good as I say they are.”

For half a second, I swear I thought I saw him blush, just a little, but he turned away too quickly for me to get a good look.

Vec: Do you ever wanna talk about your emotions, Daryl?

Daryl: Nah

Judith: I do.

Vec: I know, Judith

Judith: I’m sad.

Vec: I know, Judith.

About the blogger

Masterlist

AO3 link

↣ My name's Taylor, I'm 31, and my sun sign is Virgo

↣ If you see something in the tags & there's not a story for it, it's a WIP

↣ I've been writing as a hobby since I was 14

↣ I prefer to write x OC work. I love creating a character from the ground up and crafting their backstory.

↣ My current writing obsession is my Daryl Dixon x OC pairing (I don't care that she only exists in my head, they're my OTP and I'm not sorry)

↣ I'm by no means new to the TWD fandom, but I only recently started writing fanfic for it.

↣ Daryl Dixon has become my comfort character (he's such a cutie in this gif I can't get over it)

↣ I'm an elder emo

↣ My favorite bands are Black Veil Brides, Motionless in White, and Ice Nine Kills

↣ I'm a gamer

↣ My favorite video game is Skyrim (my build is a dark elf destruction mage)

↣ My current games-to-play are Elder Scrolls Online, Baldur's Gate 3, Morrowind, Still Wakes the Deep, and Ark Survival Ascended

↣ I've been vegan since I was 23, and I went vegan for animal rights reasons

Ideas/Works In Progress:

↣ Two pieces of Daryl Dixon x OC smut (one is finished & will be posted once I finish posting my story that explains the development of their relationship, one is being written as we speak)

↣ Something where my OC (who's a doctor) gives Daryl a crash course in women

↣ A story where my OC returns to her childhood home with Daryl

↣ The forest scene with Negan featuring my OC

↣ Some sort of altercation between Negan and my OC

↣ A Daryl Dixon x OC Halloween oneshot

Small, soft ways Daryl Dixon will show his affection:

Untucking your hair out from your clothing, his fingers so gentle.

Grazing a thumb over your cheek/chin.

Rubbing circles on your back when sitting next to each other.

Leaving you short, sweet notes when he’s gone from the other side of the bed. “Remember to eat. I’ll be back soon x”

Smirking slightly when he catches you trying on his winged jacket. You go to take it off and he shakes his head. “Nah, it looks good on you.”

Bringing you apples every day because he knows they’re your favourite fruit. He might leave one on the pillow next to you in the morning, next to his note. Tuck a couple away in your backpack, etc.

Wants you with him when he cooks, says he wants the company but wants to make sure you get the nutrients you need, like fish and red meat, lettuce and eggs. He never cared about that stuff for himself, never needed to, but with you, he wants you at your best, able to look after yourself.

At meetings he makes sure to involve you, values your opinion and makes sure you’re heard. Even if your ideas aren’t great.

Defends you in public, corrects you in private.

Let’s himself be vulnerable with you, lying in your lap while you stroke his hair, opening up to you about the darkness of his past and his mental health.

Kisses you on your forehead. (Also really enjoys forehead kisses too).

Squeezes your hand when you’re his backpack on his bike.