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Safe By My Side

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Prompt - ‘With your arms around me, what could I possibly be afraid of?’

You felt exhausted as you forced your eyes open, only to scrunch them shut seconds later against the brightness of the sun that shone through the windows. As much as you wanted to keep laying there, wanted to let yourself fall back asleep you knew you had to get up to swap watch shifts.

You let yourself lay there for a moment more before you shifted and tried to sit up, only to be stopped when the arm around your waist tightened. For that you opened your eyes, glancing down at the arm and letting your fingers brush against it as the bed shifted as Rick turned so he was spooning you, burying his face in your neck and smiling against it.

“Go back t’sleep.” He mumbled, causing your smile to widen.

“I can’t,” You groaned, giggling as he pressed kisses against the side of your neck and shifted to give him more room. “I have to go keep watch.”

“Rosita’s got it covered.” Rick told you, causing you to roll your eyes, the smile never leaving your face as you managed to turn around so that your head rested on Rick’s chest, tucked securely under his chin.

You let your fingers run along his chest, drawing shapeless designs into his skin as he pulled you closer and held you tight.

“Just go back to sleep.” He whispered against your hair causing you to laugh and pull back far enough to look up at him.

“I gotta go.” You grinned, leaning up to press a soft and slow kiss against his lips, only intending for it to last a second or two.

But then Rick’s hand came up to cup your neck, thumb brushing against your jaw as he deepened the kiss, still keeping it slow and lazy but you found all thoughts of patrolling leaving your head as Rick held you. It was only when the two of you pulled away, gasping for air, did you remember where you had to be.

Rick smiled down at your half closed eyes and swollen lips as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I really have to go, now.” You smiled at him watching as he rolled back onto his back with a playful groan.

“No, Y/N.” He whined, dragging you back onto his chest, loving the way you laughed against him. “Just a little longer.” He promised but you were pushing at his chest and freeing yourself from his hold.

“I’m all yours,” You told him, watching as he leaned up on his arm and smirked at you as you pecked his lips, “After I do my shift.” Rick groaned at those words and let himself fall back onto the mattress.

“Anyone ever puts your name on the morning shift again, I’m throwing them out.” He muttered jokingly causing you to laugh as you pulled yourself out of the bed and began getting dressed for the day.

“Please do.” You said, throwing a smile over your shoulder as you headed into the bathroom leaving Rick staring at the empty space you had just occupied with a love struck grin on his face.

You felt like you’d been on your feet all day, the sun was beating down on you making the sweat pour off you and you were so ready to call it a day at four in the afternoon. You’d barely eaten anything, drank even less and it was beginning to take a toll on you.

“Hey,” You called, smiling over at Daryl as he tinkered with something on his bike, “You seen Rick around?”

“Nah, not for a while.” He told you, raising his arm to wipe at his forehead. “I’ll let ‘im know you’re looking for him if I see him,”

“Thank you,” You said, waving him goodbye as you made your way over to your house, calling out to see if anyone was home.

When you got no reply you made your way upstairs and stripped out of your clothes, leaving them in the hamper as you flipped the shower on.

You made quick work of cleaning yourself, relaxing under the water as the sweat was rinsed from your skin and it wasn’t long before you were rooting through the closet and slipping one of Rick’s shirts on with a smile.

You let yourself lay on the bed for a moment, closing your eyes with every intent of getting up and making some food for yourself but without meaning to you ended up falling asleep.

Rick had been sitting around the table all day, hours dragged on as they discussed what they were going to do about Negan, trying to figure out plans and strategies. He didn’t let the tiredness show on his face, knew he needed to seem strong in front of everybody, but right now all he wanted was to be home with you, Carl and Judith.

Eventually they decided to call it a day, everyone heading out and going their separate ways. As he was walking home he was stopped when he heard his name and turned around to see Daryl leaning out of the front door of Carol’s house.

“Hey Rick, ya girl was lookin’ for you before.” He called out and Rick smiled over at him.

“Thanks man!” He called back, raising a hand over to Daryl before he sped up in an effort to get home faster, Daryl watching him go with a smile.

“Y/N/N,” Rick called softly as he entered the house, toeing off his shoes before making his way upstairs before pausing in the doorway of your bedroom, standing there like an idiot as he smiled into the room, seeing you curled up against his pillow as you slept in one of his shirts.

Silently he made his way into the room, unbuttoning his shirt and tugging it off before he climbed onto the bed as gently as he could. Moments after he lay down you shifted in your sleep, automatically rolling closer to him making the smile on Rick’s face soften as he brushed a strand of hair from your face and wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close to him.

Rick knew he should get as much sleep as possible but with the threat of Negan hanging over them he didn’t want to waste a single minute with you, not when he didn’t know what was to come. So he stayed awake, holding you close as you slept, cuddling closer to him like you didn’t have a single fear and how could you, so long as you had Rick with you, you felt like the most protected person in the world.

__________

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Febuwhump Prompt - Friendly Fire

Prompt - ‘And when the walls come crashing down you'll realise home was never the walls around you, home was the people within those walls. Home was him."

You weren’t fully aware of just how you had gotten to where you were, sat next to a small fire, snake in your hand and Daryl sat as close to you as he could get, your sides pressed together as he continued to shoot you worried glances every few moments. You remembered the prison, remembered watching as The Governor used Michonne’s weapon to kill Hershel, watched as he had destroyed your home and for what?

You remembered losing track of everybody in the chaos and remembered not even seeing Daryl but feeling him grab your hand as he ran past you in a blur, not giving you a chance to realise what was happening but once you saw it was Daryl you had just let yourself be pulled along, trusting that he’d get you somewhere safe.

And of course he had, pulling you along for so long that your sides ached and the sounds from the prison faded into the distance, your home just gone like it was nothing, your family had lost each other and for what?

You didn’t say anything as you stared into the flames, thoughts running faster than you could keep up with. Your eyes scrunched tightly together in an attempt to slow them down but it didn’t work and with a soft groan you let your head fall to the side, resting against Daryl’s shoulder and found it helped.

Of course it helped because even though dead people were roaming the earth, even though you’d lost more people than you could count, even though you’d lost a place you thought you could call home, you’d lost your friends, friends who had become family, even despite all that you know it could get worse. If Daryl hadn’t found you, if he hadn’t pulled you along with him out of that prison, you would have felt like the world had ended again but ten times worse than now.

Daryl was your rock. He had been the one to find you wandering around alone in the city that had been taken over by the dead, a city that had been bombed by its own government. You’d been starving when he found you, dehydrated, covered in a mix of walker blood and your own. You smiled as you remembered him thrusting a crossbow in your face, barking out questions about whether you’d been bitten or not, whether you had a group. Eventually, he lowered the weapon causing you to breathe a sigh of relief and began walking away, gesturing for you to follow him with a nod.

In the first few months Daryl definitely regretted that decision, not used to somebody clinging to him like you had. You remembered his attitude towards you to begin with, remembered Shane’s gentle suggestions that you should join them instead of sitting off Daryl, should back away from the Dixon brothers but you ignored the warnings and it took a lot of time and patience before Daryl finally warmed up to you.

Once he had though you two had become inseparable, occasionally Daryl did still snap at you, sometimes needing time alone and not knowing how to tell you, he’d never had somebody like you in his life, somebody so good, so optimistic, who wanted to be around him. You always just smiled at the outburst though, a soft smile and a squeeze of the hand was all you gave him before you wandered off, giving him the time he needed until he came to find you, taking a seat with you and giving you a smile of his own.

“You doing ok?” He asked you, voice low to match the atmosphere around you. You stayed silent for a few moments, not quite sure how to answer the question before you took a steadying breath before asking a question of your own.

“You think we’ll find any of them?” Your voice just as soft as his.

Daryl’s silence was enough of an answer and you sniffed as you blinked away the sudden wetness in your eyes, taking another deep breath.

“I’m glad we’re together.” You told him and he couldn’t help but smile at that because he was thinking the same thing, he didn’t know what he would have done if he hadn’t found you.

Instead of saying anything though Daryl just hummed but you smiled into his shoulder, well versed in all things Daryl Dixon to know that it meant he was glad you were both together too.

“Where do we go now?” You asked him and he stayed silent for a long while before speaking.

“We go wherever we want.”

The next day the two of you set off again, Daryl suggesting you try to find shelter or failing that at least gather some supplies. By some miracle the two of you came across an old but elegant looking house, standing tall and seemingly safe.

“Stay behind me.” Daryl told you, pushing you behind him before he raised the crossbow and pushed the door open, banging against it as he did and waited for any sign of walkers. Daryl turned to you and you raised an eyebrow at him, he waited a few seconds longer before walking in, gesturing for you to follow closely behind.

It took a while to search the whole house both due to the size of it and because you kept getting distracted by all the trinkets and luxuries that the obviously rich owner possessed. Daryl had rolled his eyes as he watched you hold a necklace up, watching as the sunlight made the diamonds shine brightly but there was a softness to him as he fought back a smile.

“Wow.” You grinned when Daryl opened the cupboards, junk food lined up like they were prepared for the end of the world long before anyone else knew it was happening. “I’ve missed chips.”

“Help ya self.” He said as he searched through the cupboards putting some food out on the table and you smiled at his back before doing as he said, grabbing a variety of different snacks and placing yourself at the table and digging in.

It was weird how normal this felt, weird how easy it was to forget about the outside world as you and Daryl sat together, having long since made your way into the living room, the two of you on the sofa with Daryl’s arm resting against the length of it, so close to you that he could feel your hair against his forearm.

The two of you were sharing a bottle of something expensive between you, you laughing as Daryl spoke, missing how his eyes lit up at the sight of you so happy and carefree, trusting him completely.

Here, locked away in this house, only you and Daryl existed, no walkers, no Governor’s, no beheadings or fights…just you and Daryl. It felt like before the world had gone to hell. You could imagine it was like before except you knew that this would never be a possibility, knew that before this you and Daryl would never have crossed paths.

The thought seemed almost impossible now, it was hard to recall a time when Daryl Dixon wasn’t by your side and you couldn’t help but selfishly be a bit glad that the world had ended if it meant knowing Daryl.

You shifted closer to him as you wondered just how you’d gone so long without knowing him, how you’d lived your life everyday oblivious to the fact that Daryl even existed and hated that you knew if you’d met back then you probably wouldn’t have let yourself get to know him, knew Daryl wouldn’t let himself get to know you.

It was a strange feeling, being glad about the apocalypse.

“You ok?” He asked you, noticing your expression turn from happy to wistful.

“I’m really glad I met you, Daryl Dixon.” You told him, looking up and not realising just how close you’d gotten to him.

Daryl looked down at you, hesitating before lifting his hand to your head, letting his fingers brush a strand of hair from your face before they trailed down your temple to rest against your cheek. He could feel his heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he felt you smile under his hand.

“Glad I met you too.” He confessed, tone gruffer than he intended but it made you smile more, you didn’t know too much about Daryl’s romantic past but you knew there wasn’t much to talk about. It was good that he was nervous, it made you feel better knowing that it wasn’t just you.

“Daryl,” You whispered, so many thoughts in your head that you weren’t quite sure how to articulate them.

You didn’t have to though, you never had to really, because just as you were well versed in all things Daryl Dixon, he was just as good when it came to you, knowing what you wanted to say even if you didn’t.

“Me too,” He said just as quietly as you had been and you let your hand rest on his jaw, thumb brushing against his cheek before you moved closer, slowly giving him time to pull away if he wanted to.

He didn’t though, instead he met you halfway, letting your lips brush against each other’s softly and slowly, the movements slightly awkward but neither of you noticed or cared, too absorbed in each other, in how right it felt to finally kiss each other after months of back and forth flirting, months of testing the water before backing off, neither of you willing to risk the bond you had with one another.

Now it seemed foolish to wait so long, especially when you could lose each other any day, the events from the prison showed you that and maybe that’s why now was the time for it.

The kiss was interrupted when you heard a clatter from outside. Daryl pulled away with a soft groan, letting his forehead rest against yours as you both listened but the sound continued.

“Maybe it’s just somebody who lives here?” You whispered, watching as Daryl squinted and sighed, leaning forward to place a quick, slightly unsure, kiss against your lips before standing and picking his crossbow up, turning towards you with a stern look.

“Don’t move, stay here.” He warned and you nodded, pulling your knife from your boot, nervously playing with it as you listened to the sound of Daryl’s footsteps, praying that it was just nothing but knowing that you couldn’t be that lucky.

“Y/N, get outta here!” Daryl shouted, causing your stomach to drop.

You immediately shot up and ran towards the front door, watching as Daryl struggled to hold it shut as walkers piled up, pushing against it and trying to force their way in. Daryl watched you take a step towards him and immediately shook his head.

“Go!” He yelled at you but you shook your head back.

“I’m not leaving you here!” You protested.

“M’right behind ya, just get outta the house, meet me out by the road, yeah?” He said, nodding at you and watched as you nodded back before shooting him a desperate, pleading look.

“Stay safe.” You said and he smiled.

“Right behind ya.” He told you again, softer this time and felt relief flood through him as he watched you run.

You ran through the house, quickly making your way out of the back door that was thankfully free from walkers and continued to run, making your way over to the road as Daryl had told you too.

You made the mistake of glancing over your shoulder, looking to see if Daryl was coming when suddenly you felt the world tip before you cried out in pain as your head connected with the pavement, already feeling blood trickle down from the cut.

You blinked hard before you shot up upon hearing the snarls of a walker, having to pause for a second as the pain in your head blinded you, the feel of a hand on your leg causing you to scramble back as best you could but the walker was not giving up its hold on you.

You glanced around, looking for your knife and groaned when you saw it had ended up flung ahead of you, too far for you to reach. The walker continued to make its way closer to you and you tried to fight it off but you couldn’t, trying to keep moving back as best you could with its grip on you.

Just before you could call Daryl you were flinching as walker blood and brains splattered all over you as a bat was brought down on its head before you let out a huff of relief. The relief was cut short as you saw a man in a black mask gesture for two other men behind you to grab you.

“Daryl!” You yelled desperately as the men easily pulled you up.

Daryl had finally managed to fight his way out of the house and moved even faster as he heard your panicked cries calling for him. He ran out of the back door, not even hesitating with pulling the trigger on the crossbow, immediately taking one of the men down before he turned his attention to the other two.

They were both blocked by you but Daryl knew he could make one of the shots and keep you safe, he watched as one of them kept you in front of him, the two of you facing Daryl as he led you backwards towards the car, you silently pleading with Daryl not to let them take you.

The man not holding you tried to move quickly over to the driver's seat but he wasn’t quick enough for Daryl who released the arrow the moment he moved away from you. Then there was the one holding you, he was now looking towards his friend but quickly snapped his gaze back to Daryl.

Daryl glared as he tried to get a clear shot but he couldn’t, not without hurting you and he couldn’t do it. He waited, anxiety flooding through him as he saw tears make their way down your face before he finally, finally, had the shot.

He released the trigger again, watching as the arrow flew towards the man holding you and watched as he turned, positioning you so you took the arrow to your thigh, a cry of pain leaving you as the man chuckled and opened the car door, pulling a gun out as Daryl went to step forward, instantly stopping him in his tracks.

Daryl felt the urge to cry himself but took a deep breath, not focusing on the fact that you had a damn arrow sticking out of you that he had put there, trying not to focus on your cries or the fear displayed clearly across your face.

Instead he focused on the man holding you, watched every move he made, watched as he got too cocky and turned away from Daryl. Daryl took the opportunity to move two steps to the left, barely noticeable but giving him full advantage.

He didn’t wait for the man to turn around, didn’t hesitate as he pulled the trigger a final time and watched with satisfaction as the man hit the floor before he even knew what was happening.

Daryl watched as you wobbled, the man no longer holding you up had you seconds away from joining him on the floor but before you knew it Daryl’s own familiar, comfortable, arms were wrapping around you and you buried your head in his chest, sobbing against it as he held you tight.

“You’re alright, I got you, not gonna let anyone take you.” Daryl continued to whisper reassurances into your hair until you calmed down.

Once your tears had subsided Daryl pulled back and cupped your cheek in his hand, his fingers brushing away some of the blood from the cut. You watched him frown before shaking his head.

“Damn lucky we packed the medical supplies.” He muttered as he moved around you to help you sit down on the backseat, apologising as you winced against the arrow in your thigh.

“I’m so sorry,” He said quietly, guilty.

“Don’t be, please,” You said, sniffing back more tears, “Please don’t be sorry, you saved me.”

“I shot you!” He exclaimed, angry at himself for taking the shot, for letting you go off alone, for letting you get hurt on his watch.

“Hey,” You called softly, getting his attention. You lifted your hand and brushed some hair away from his face, smiling as he leaned into your touch. “You saved me.”

You watched him look up into your eyes, searching for any hint of a lie, of resentment, of fear, of hatred, all things he would deserve but he saw nothing but trust and something else, something soft that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Ok.” He said simply, nodding before rooting through the bag, pulling alcohol, cloths, a needle and thread out, shooting you an apologetic look. “This is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

That was, quite possibly, the understatement of the century because as soon as Daryl pulled the arrow out of your thigh…there were no words to describe the pain, the burning sensation that seemed to spread through your entire body and you had to bite down so hard on your lip to stop from screaming that you ended up splitting it.

Daryl worked quickly but all his touches were gentle, trying to provide comfort where he could. The entire time he worked he spoke soft words of encouragement, watching as they seemed to help, giving you something to focus on.

“Ya doin’ great, nearly there, attagirl.” He continued to murmur and you kept taking deep breaths trying desperately to only listen to his words.

“All done.” He told you and you let out a loud sigh, a mix of relief, tiredness, pain and gratitude all rolled into one. Daryl kneeled up so he was face to face with you and let his hand brush your hair off your sweat stained forehead. “You did good.” He told you with a smile and you couldn’t help but let out a huff of laughter as you leaned down and captured his lips in yours, feeling him kiss back.

The kiss stayed soft and slow, you were exhausted and Daryl’s nerves were too high but you both needed this, needed a minute to see that you were both ok, you were both alive and together.

“You saved me.” You whispered against his lips as the two of you pulled away and Daryl looked up at you with wide, wet eyes. You let your fingers go up to his hair, running them through and pulling gently at the knots. “Thank you.”

“Don’t ever have to thank me for that, we look out for each other, yeah?” Daryl asked and you nodded, smiling down at him brightly despite the tiredness pulling at your eyes and the pain in your thigh. “Get some sleep,” He told you, gesturing for you to lay across the back seat, “I’ll get us somewhere safe.”

“I’m good,” You told him both of you knowing it was a lie and Daryl smiled at you, rolling his eyes fondly as he gestured to the back seat again.

“Get some sleep, I’m gonna be right here.” He promised and you nodded, leaning down to kiss him once more before you finally listened to him and made yourself as comfortable as possible across the back seats of the car, smiling as you felt a familiar leather vest being placed over your chest.

Somehow, despite everything, you still felt safer than ever as you held the leather vest close, pulling it up and breathing in the scent that reminded you of home before you let your eyes fall shut, the sound of the engine starting as you began to fall asleep.

“I’m right here,” You heard Daryl promise again, softly as if he was speaking more to himself than you but you still let yourself smile, cuddling further into the vest before finally drifting off, trusting Daryl entirely.

__________

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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):

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Fourteen

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

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing (there's swearing in every chapter ok), description of nightmares, description of violence (description of a walker attacking someone), mention of scars

Word count: 2.7k

Daryl and I kept our conversation going on the ride back to Alexandria, but my mind was definitely in other places. I loved talking with Daryl, and being in his presence, but damn if this man didn’t make me nervous like a 13-year-old girl talking to her middle school crush. He was easy to talk to, and despite his usual frosty and callous attitude towards others, there was a welcoming and safe energy about him, one that I didn’t find anyone else talking about. When we had conversations, he was attentive, seemed interested, asked follow-up questions & remembered the things I said. He was a self-proclaimed tough guy, but the Daryl that I got to see, when it was just the two of us, dare I say, was a bit of a softie.

After a little while, I was starting to recognize the area and figured we must’ve been getting close to Alexandria, which my ravenous stomach was thankful for.

“Can I ask ya a question?” Daryl asked, “if ya don’t wanna answer, it’s fine.”

“Uh, sure,” I answered nervously, wondering where he possibly could’ve been going with this, especially considering this was the first time he’d prefaced asking me a question by asking if he could.

“Ya said ya’d been havin’ nightmares for some time,” he said. My stomach began to lightly churn at the thought of the different directions in which he could take this. “Ya had ‘em a long time?”

“Uh, no. They only started after the world went to shit,” I explained. I wiggled my toes in an attempt to keep myself calm.

“They always been the same?” Daryl asked. I shook my head.

“So they used to be the same thing every night. I would be crossing the stage at a ceremony after getting board-certified. I’d look out at the audience and see my parents and brothers in the front row, looking so proud as their only daughter and sister became an official fully licensed surgeon. Then I look out at the audience again and see a walker coming down the aisle towards my family. He goes up to my mother and attacks her, and she screams, then everyone starts screaming. He bites her in the neck and tears her vocal cords, and when her screaming stops is always when I would wake up.” I twirled a chunk of my ponytail around my finger and chewed at the inside of my lip. “They changed around the time I got here.”

Despite the churning of my stomach, the pounding of my heart, and the sensation of feeling small that overcame me, I felt the desire to keep going. It was like the words were coming out of me whether I wanted them to or not. But there was a sense of safety, which comforted me as the words came out on their own accord. “Now, it’s still mostly just a blur of colors and physical sensations, and some sounds. But each night, the blurs get a little less blurry, the physical sensations feel more real, and the sounds get louder.” I folded my legs and brought my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, resting my chin on my knees. “And I’m scared for when it becomes crystal clear.”

“Hey,” he said, and I turned my face to look at him. His face had softened a little, his normal stoic expression appearing less rigid than usual, “nothin’ to be scared of. It’s not real.”

Oh, but it was. It was a very real thing that haunted my every move, that I couldn’t even escape in dreamland. Still, I appreciated his attempt to provide me some comfort.

“I know. Sure feels real though. It always takes me a minute after I wake up on the floor to realize I’m awake and was dreaming,” I explained, resting the side of my head on my forearms, keeping my gaze on Daryl. “It’s pretty jarring at times.”

We pulled up to the front gates, and he brought the car to a stop while we waited for the gate to open. He looked over at me, and his face has somehow softened even more than it already had. “I know it’s scary. Don’t worry. It can’t hurt ya.”

“Thanks Daryl,” I said in an attempt to wrap up the conversation before we got back inside the walls. I wished there was a way to explain the gravity & the reality of them without having to actually do so. Something that would help him understand without sharing too much information.

Rosita was practically at my door already by the time I stepped out of the car.

“Hi. Long time no see,” I said, grabbing my backpack and swinging it over my shoulders.

“Hi. I, umm, wanted to see if you guys needed any help,” she offered, looking past my shoulder into the back of the car, “wow, you guys did great. That’s awesome.”

“Couldn’ta done it without the good luck charm,” Daryl said as he popped the trunk open. I restrained myself from allowing the biggest grin to spread across my face. I couldn’t deny that I loved when he called me that. A couple of the guys at the front gate started grabbing food from the trunk to take to our storage area.

“Rosita, you wanna help me get these into the infirmary, then we can talk?” I asked, gesturing to the pile of fake hands and feet, “y’know, about the concern you mentioned to me this morning?” She caught on quickly and nodded.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

It took two trips for Rosita and I to get most of the pieces into the infirmary. For now, we placed them wherever there was room, as I would be spending the rest of my day finding them a permanent home in the infirmary. Back at the car, I took the remaining food out of my backpack and gave it to one of the guys. I grabbed the last several prosthetic pieces and shoved a couple into my bag, another couple under my arm.

“Daryl, do you want our help with the rest?” Rosita asked as she grabbed the last few prosthetics from me.

“Nah, go on, do what you gotta” he said, then turned to me, “I’ll be over when I’m done.” I gave him a smile and a nod, and I led Rosita over to the infirmary. After a minute, she looked back over her shoulder, determining that we were safely out of earshot, and she could ask questions.

“Be over for what?” 

“I mentioned that I was looking forward to eating once we got back, since I didn’t eat before we left this morning, so he offered to make us food. I’m guessing that means he’d bring it over to me once it was done,” I told her. Her face lit up, and I knew this was only the beginning of the incessant questions and teasing that were to come.

“He’s making you food?” she gushed. I gave her a look that screamed for her to lower her voice.

“Shut up,” I whispered, whacking her in the arm with the back of my hand.

“What was the comment about a good luck charm?” she asked. This time, I let a big stupid grin spread across my face.

“Oh, it was a joke I made on our first run. About me being a good luck charm and that’s why we got so lucky with what we found,” I explained, “it was one of my first attempts at being flirty.”

“And he remembered it!?” I whacked her with the back of my hand again.

“Rosita please, keep your voice down,” I begged as I opened the door to the infirmary for her, “it carries.”

She all but threw the last of the prosthetics in her arms onto a counter and sat herself on an exam table, kicking her feet back and forth in excitement. I sat myself in the chair I typically utilized and wheeled over towards the table.

“You look really happy,” Rosita said, giving me a gentle kick in the knee, “tell me everything.”

I recollected the events of our run, from the moment he gave me my coffee this morning to coming back in through the walls just now, including almost every detail. I left out specifics about the things Daryl shared with me in case they were things he didn’t want others to know. Plus, it wasn’t my place to share them. I also left out the details of the conversation on our ride back here.

"And then he stopped the car, Rosita. He stopped the car!" I practically shouted, catching myself when I realized how loud my volume was. I was referencing when I was first trying to get Daryl to let me ask him questions about himself.

I was giggling like a teenage girl talking about her crush in the bathroom with one of her friends. Here I was, at my grown age of 32, blushing and kicking my feet as I told the story. I mostly stared down at the floor to conceal just how red I was. I stopped trying to contain my grins and giddiness and just let them happen.

After I finished my story, she looked at me with the biggest, jaw-drop smile I’d ever seen.

"Oh my god, Daryl’s totally into you! He has to be, he never acts like that!” she squealed. She jumped off the table briefly to give me a giant congratulatory hug. “It sounds like he was even a little bit flirty as well. You're putting stars in his eyes, girly.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with me,” I said as I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest, “Daryl’s not my usual type. I typically go for lanky musicians covered head-to-toe in tattoos who wear makeup. Guys who know how to finger a guitar...and that’s about it.”

“Vector!” Rosita laughed, her jaw on the floor at my rather lewd joke.

“I’m serious. I’ve never been this…enamored by a man before, especially one that makes me so nervous. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m usually very confident when it comes to approaching men I’m into. Maybe a little forward if I’m being honest. He’s easy to talk to, which makes me less nervous, but still.” I spun myself gently around in my chair, scratching my index finger on the side of my thumb.

“I mean, you said it yourself. You’re used to approaching a certain type of man, one that’s very different from Daryl. I guess keep doing exactly what you’re doing. Whatever it is seems to be working,” she said.

“I guess. But we’re still really getting to know each other. What if…what if he learns something he doesn’t like?”

She huffed at me. “Please. What is there not to like about you?”

I discreetly rubbed my rope scars under my sleeve and swallowed to keep the churning of my stomach at bay. “I don’t know, I just…I really like him. I don’t wanna fuck it up.” She reached out and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“You’ll be fine. Just take it slow, and…let whatever happens happen. I have a good feeling about this.”

“Promise me you won’t talk to anyone else about it unless you’re indoors. Carol now knows because she overheard Maggie and Glenn talking about it last week,” I said, and she chuckled a little. “I still need to talk to them about that. Tell ‘em to square up.”

“I won’t, I promise. I can tell Maggie to come by, if you want. I’ll tell her to square up,” Rosita offered, eliciting a giggle from me.

“That’d be great. Thank you.” I grimaced as I looked around at the prosthetics that were now strung out everywhere. "Wanna keep me company while I deal with this? Probably gonna be in here a while.” She sighed as she hopped up off the exam table.

“I should get back to the garden. Plus, your man should be here anytime now. Maybe he can keep you company,” she teased, winking at me. I rolled my eyes so hard, I could see my brain.

“Shut up,” I laughed as Rosita made her way to the door, “oh and don’t tell Aaron about any of this. It’s a surprise for when he’s healed.”

I spent the next hour or so sat on the floor, sorting the limbs into different piles and measured them to figure out their different sizes as best I could. I used sticky notes to label them accordingly. Rosita’s words kept playing over and over in my head as I worked.

Daryl’s totally into you! He has to be, he never acts like that! It sounds like he was even a little bit flirty as well. You're putting stars in his eyes, girly. You’ll be fine. Just take it slow, and…let whatever happens happen. I have a good feeling about this.

I didn’t know what scared me more—the possibility that he could not be interested in me and I’m just reading into everything too much, or the possibility that he is interested in me. Because if he was, there would be things he would have to learn. Things I intended to take to my grave. Things that very well could scare him away.

A knock and then opening of the infirmary door sucked me out of my spiraling thoughts. I looked up over an exam table to see Daryl, carrying a plate with steam coming off of it and some silverware. I couldn’t see it, but whatever it was smelled incredible. Though at this point, I was so hungry that just about anything sounded incredible.

“Hey, be careful, there’s body parts everywhere,” I called out. I pushed one of the piles near me out of the way to clear a path for him.

“Sorry it took so long. Took a while to find a pasta that wasn’t spaghetti,” he said. He squatted down next to me and handed me the warm plate and silverware. “Didn’t wanna make ya sick.” The plate was piled with penne pasta, tomato sauce, and some kind of meat, which I guessed was likely venison. The fact that he went out of his way to find a different pasta shape for me was heartwarming. I could feel myself blushing, just a teeny tiny bit, hopefully so teeny tiny that it wasn’t noticeable to him.

“Do not apologize. The fact that you did this is more than enough. Thank you.” I reached up and set the plate on the exam table and leaned back against the wall. “Do you wanna keep me company while I sort through all this?” I asked, gesturing to the piles of fake limbs scattered across the floor.

“Got watch or I’d say yes” he said, “take a rain check?”

“Yeah. Definitely.” I gave him a warm smile as he rose to his feet and started to leave. I got up into my chair so I could take a break to eat. “Hey Daryl?” He turned back to me, his crossbow swaying against his back and tapping the door. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“No, not just…not just for this.”

“For what?”

“For letting me get to know you a bit…listening to me yap on…for caring,” I said, looking up to meet his eyes. Even though he was several feet away, and strands of his gorgeous chocolate hair hung in his face, I could feel that our eyes were locked, and I gave him another warm smile. “You’re a good man.”

“Ya ain’t so bad yourself, sunshine,” Daryl said. I felt my knees give out when he called me sunshine. If I wasn’t sitting, I would’ve crumbled to the floor. I could listen to him call me that all day.

“See you tonight,” I said, and with a nod, he was out the door. I heard him say something to someone, and then in came Maggie. As the door closed behind Daryl, she gave me a look that was begging for more information, probably both about why she was being summoned to see me and what Daryl was doing in here.

“What’s going on in here? Also Rosita said you wanted to “square up?”” she said. I laughed and pointed to the chair opposite me.

“Sit. You and I need to have a chat.”

Taglist: @raddydaddydude

Currently working on a fluffy-ass, lil’ bit angsty Daryl Dixon x OC Halloween oneshot and it’s making me 🫠😭❤️❤️‍🩹😔✨🥰

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Fifteen

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

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, discussion of past suicide, discussion of parent death (suicide, house fire), mention of scars (Daryl's), medical procedure (stitches), blood, allusion to child abuse (Daryl's), men being creepy, reference to sibling death, we got some big emotions in this one

Word count: 3.3k

Daryl and I began to get much closer after that second run. Eating dinner together became sort of a ritual of ours, other than the nights Daryl had duty in the watchtower. At first, it was him in the chair and me on the far end of the couch as I didn’t want to spook him. He never explicitly said it, but I got the vibe that he wasn’t big on physical touch. He always maintained at least a few feet distance between us, never getting too close. Eventually, I tested the waters and sat on the end of the couch closer to him, and that’d been our dinner arrangement ever since. Over the next few weeks, Rick had us go out on more runs. It was strange to me that I always heard about them from Daryl and never from Rick. I didn’t want to do anything that could get me in trouble, like leaving the sanctity of the walls when I wasn’t supposed to, but I was simply following instructions that I was told came from our fearless cowboy leader.

I joined Daryl once when he was working on his bike, and he showed me some stuff about it. Though he was so beautiful that day, I’ll admit, it was hard for me to keep focus. He was wearing one of his classic button-ups with the sleeves cut off, that angel-wing vest he loved so much, and a pair of ripped jeans that hugged his body just right. It was warm, so he was sweating buckets. I was practically drooling as I watched his arm muscles flex and relax as he worked. The way he glistened with sweat, the little hints of joy I heard in his voice as he talked to me about his motorcycle, his gorgeous accent…he was mesmerizing.

He still came and checked on me every night after I fell out of bed, another ritual of ours I suppose. It had evolved to a point where I would stay lying on the floor and give a thumbs up over the side of the bed when I heard the door open, then he’d leave. We’d sometimes spend mornings together, but usually one of us was always up and out before the other was awake, or if Daryl had overnight watch, he’d be just going to sleep when I got up. Typically, the one who got up first made coffee and left the rest out for the other. Sometimes, if he was coming back from an overnight watch, I’d wake up and go downstairs to find the pot just finishing up brewing.

It was obvious one of Daryl’s love languages was acts of service. He didn’t so much have a way with words, but damn he was good at showing how much he cared. Not just towards me, but the way he cared about the whole of Alexandria. He was always volunteering to go on watch, runs, hunts, you name it. He cared so much about the people here and would do whatever he needed to do to make sure we were all safe and protected. And that only made me fall for him even harder.

Though he typically wasn’t one for expressing his emotions with words, there was one morning when he left me a note. I came downstairs, and he was already out as he had gate duty all day. He had poured me coffee in a white mug with daisies on it that I once casually mentioned was my favorite mug of the ones in the cabinet, and there was a short but sweet note with it.

Have the best day

See you at dinner

I kept the note folded up in the back of my notebook where I kept some photos and a note from my brother.

Today, Daryl was teaching me how to hunt. Well, it was the start of that process. First, there was target practice. And I was getting to pick up and shoot that infamous crossbow.

Daryl had carved an X for a target on a tree, and my goal was to hit as dead center as I could. I knelt on one knee behind a fallen tree, which I was instructed to use to steady the crossbow and practice that way first. I could throw a knife over my shoulder and hit a walker square in the forehead. How hard could a crossbow be?

“Does this thing have recoil?” I asked as he handed it to me, “wow, it’s lighter than I thought it’d be.” I flipped the bow around and examined it, running my fingers over its smooth surface but was careful to make sure I didn’t touch anything that looked like a lever or a button. Didn’t wanna go causing any accidents right out the gate.

“Hardly any,” Daryl said, kneeling next to me. We were almost shoulder-to-shoulder. This was the closest we’d ever been, and I could feel the butterflies in my stomach breaking free and trying to crawl their way up my throat.

“You ever kill anyone with this thing?” I asked.

“Yeah. Sometimes, people are more dangerous than them walkers,” he explained, and I nodded. I was all too familiar with the dangers of other human beings during the end of the world.

“I know what you mean,” I replied. I rested the bow on the fallen tree and kept my gaze on the X carved into the tree in front of me. “I’ve never killed anyone. I don’t know if I could. It goes against the oath I took.”

"Hate to burst your bubble, but that don't matter no more."

“I guess not,” I shrugged, “but enough of that, let’s get to practicing.”

“‘lax your shoulders,” he said, gently placing his hands on both of my shoulders and lightly pressing to help me relax them. This was the first time he’d touched me on purpose. My stomach dropped like I was on a rollercoaster. “Geez, you’re tense woman.”

I wouldn’t be so tense if you didn’t make me so nervous, I thought. I propped the crossbow up onto my shoulder like I’d seen Daryl do a thousand times.

“It’s no good if ya don’t load it,” he said. He picked a bolt off of the front of it and reached around me to load it. His arm rested against my back as he strapped the bolt in. It was like he was testing the boundaries of physical closeness, though I didn’t know whether it was mine or his that he was testing. But I didn’t mind one bit. I steadied the bow on my shoulder and the fallen tree, aiming it at my target.

“Ya really gotta relax,” Daryl said, “can’t have this gettin’ in the way neither.” He took the end of my ponytail and draped my hair over my opposite shoulder, “damn, ya hair’s real soft.” I felt myself melting into a puddle, and my hands started to shake a bit as my heart rate picked up.

“Thank you. I grew it all by myself,” I laughed.

“How long'd it take ya to grow it out?”

“Oh God, I think the last time I got a drastic haircut was when I was like 13,”  I explained, “sometimes I think about chopping it all off because it gets in my way so much. And it feels like it weighs 20 pounds when it’s wet.”

“Ya should keep it long. Looks good.” I smiled and looked down at the ground, trying to hide that I was obviously turning red.

“Thanks,” I said. I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself again.

“Hey, you’re shakin’,” Daryl said, placing a hand on my shoulder in an effort to help me relax, “just take a breath. You’re good.” His voice was soft, soothing, and calming. Still laced with his gravely accent, but there was genuine caring and compassion behind his words.

“Nervous jitters I guess,” I said, taking another deep breath in through my nose. I lied straight through my teeth.

“Alright, look through the scope and aim it at the target,” he said. He kept his hand on my shoulder.

“Looks easy enough,” I said, perhaps a little too confidently as I did as he instructed.

“Once ya got it lined up, ya just pull the lever on the bottom,” Daryl explained, “helps if ya breathe out when ya do it.” I took a deep breath and fired, exhaling like he told me to. The bolt went flying right past the tree, not even grazing it. It landed far off in the grass somewhere I couldn’t see.

“I stand corrected on it looking easy,” I said, feeling horrifically embarrassed, “I missed the tree completely. How did I even do that?”

“It happens. Gotta get used to holdin’ it still. C’mon, I’ll show ya how to load it.” He gestured for me to hand his bow to him.

“At this point, I’ll just be happy to hit the tree at all,” I said, giggling a little to try to make myself feel better.

That’s how we spent the next couple of hours. Me attempting to hit the tree, somehow missing it completely or just grazing it, which was starting to feel like a win, and trying to find the bolts in the grass. He never seemed to get impatient or frustrated with me, even when I was starting to get frustrated with myself. He reassured me, helped me set up and reload, and tried to help me feel more confident.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally did it. I hit the very outskirts of the giant X target, but I hit it nonetheless. I about jumped into the air with how excited I was.

“Oh my God, I did it!” I cheered, nearly dropping the crossbow to the ground in surprise. A gigantic grin spread across my face as I looked at Daryl. “I did it!”

“Knew ya could do it,” he congratulated. He had reached out and was stroking the back of my arm with his fingers. His touch was so light, it felt like being tickled with a feather. I could feel goosebumps forming, but thankfully, my sleeve hid them. “Think that’s the first time I seen ya do that too.”

I looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Seen me do what?”

“Smile like that.” It occurred to me that he was referring to the fact that I was smiling with my teeth out. And he was right—this was the first time I’d smiled like that in months.

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

That evening, I found myself working late in the infirmary. A couple of the kids had gotten into a fight, and while their injuries weren’t too bad, they still required attention. A couple of scraped knees and small cuts later, I was supposed to be going home for the evening, but as I was getting ready to leave, the infirmary door swung open one last time, and in came Daryl. He’d been covering gate duty for a couple of hours, and I figured he must’ve seen the infirmary light on and came to check on me.

“Hey, there’s my little Georgia peach,” I said, giving him a big smile. He looked at me with a solemn face, which concerned me a little. “Daryl…are you ok?” He didn’t say anything at first. He simply kept eye contact with me as he stepped closer.

“I, uh, need your help with somethin’,” he said. He took his bow off of his back and turned around. There was a sizable gash across his mid-back, his clothes stained with dried blood.

“Jesus, get your ass up here,” I ordered, gesturing to the exam table. I started grabbing things like gloves and antiseptic. “What the hell happened?”

“Couple of ‘em pricks was talkin’ ‘bout ya,” he said as he sat down on the table and scooted back to the edge. I froze and swallowed hard. I hadn’t really gotten to know any of the men who typically had gate duty, and the only times I saw them were when I was coming and going through the gate, and I was always with Daryl.

“You got this defending me? Jesus, I’m so sorry. I feel awful.” I continued grabbing everything I would need, like cotton pads, medical tape, tools for stitches, and antibiotics.

“Nah, jackasses had it comin’.”

“What did you do to them?”

“Roughed ‘em up a bit. Let ‘em know not to say nothin’ like that ‘gain,” Daryl explained.

“Do I wanna know what they were saying about me?”

“Probably not. Bein’ a buncha creeps.” The never-ending list of things they could’ve been saying swirled through my mind, and I felt sick. I suppressed the nausea that quickly made its home in my stomach.

“Great. Just when I was starting to feel safe here,” I sighed. I thought I’d finally found a place away from the prying eyes of creepy men, but unfortunately, I was wrong.

Daryl looked back over his shoulder at me with kind eyes. “Don’t worry. I won’t let ‘em give ya any trouble.” I gave him a smile and a nod.

“Alright, I need you to take your shirt off. Then I’m gonna clean it and stitch it up. I’ll talk you through each step so you know what to expect since you can’t see it,” I explained. I slipped my gloves on after washing my hands thoroughly and scooted a stool over with my foot so I would sit higher up. Daryl fidgeted a little on the table, and he seemed nervous. I could tell he was in pain from his injury, but something else seemed to be bothering him.

“If you’re not comfortable taking your shirt off, that’s ok. I just need you to lift it enough so I can work,” I said, “don’t wanna go stitching your shirt to your back.” To my surprise, he lifted his shirt up and off over his head, letting it slide down his arms into his lap.

When he did, I understood why I’d never seen Daryl shirtless before.

There were scars all across his back. Not the kind of scars you’d get from being in a motorcycle or car accident, or burn scars, or from taking a really bad tumble as a kid. No, these scars were intentionally inflicted by another person. My heart shattered, but I kept my composure.

How could someone do something so awful to someone so good?

I made sure to utilize my calming bedside manner voice. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about. I have seen anything you can possibly imagine. Plus, I have scars of my own. I know better than to ask about anyone else's."

I grabbed a cloth soaked with some warm water so I could clean up some of the dried blood, and I gently started rubbing it on his back. “I’m gonna try to get as much of this dried blood off as I can.” He tensed a little bit under my touch, so I tried my best to be even lighter, but I could only press so lightly while still getting the blood off. I decided to clean just enough around the wound to make the process quicker, and he could take care of the rest when he showered.

“Alright, I have to clean it now so it won’t get infected. I won’t lie, this is going to sting a little. But I’m just taking a cotton pad with some antiseptic and patting around it,” I explained. I started patting his wound with the cotton pad, and he flinched just a tiny bit. I placed my other hand on his arm and stroked it gently with my thumb. “Hey, you’re ok. You’re doing great.” As I stroked his arm, I felt him start to relax.

My heart was breaking for him. The sensation of the antiseptic in his open wound must’ve felt similar to whatever created the scars on his back. I tried to think of something to talk about to distract him.

“I like your tattoo, Daryl,” I said, “does it mean anything?”

“Jus’ thought it looked cool,” he replied.

“I actually have a few tattoos of my own,” I told him, “I know, there’s something you didn’t know about me. I have a sternum piece with flowers on it, bumblebees on the back of each of my thighs, and a bouquet of daisies on the front of my right hip. I liked the idea of having tattoos that only certain people get to see. People that I get to choose." I hoped that, maybe one day, I’d get to show Daryl my tattoos. I set the cotton pad on the table next to him. “I’m done cleaning it now. Could you straighten up for me? I’m gonna stitch it up now. It’ll probably hurt a little, but it won’t burn like the antiseptic did.”

"They mean anythin'?" he asked as he sat up straight.

"I really like sternum pieces, so that's why I got that one. Daisies are my favorite flower, and the bumblebees are for my mom.” I got to work stitching him up as I talked. “Gardening was her favorite hobby, and we had a huge one in our backyard growing up. She taught my brothers and I about the different kinds of pollinators and how important they were. Bumblebees were her favorite. I got them a couple of years after she passed.”

“Lost my mom too,” Daryl said. It was the first time he’d mentioned his mom in any capacity. “What happened to her? If you’re ok talkin’ ‘bout it.”

“She umm…she killed herself a couple of months after Preston died. Hung herself in his closet. My dad was the one that found her.” I blinked back some tears. Stitching up someone’s wound was not the time to be crying. “Her mental health really declined after his passing. I mean, all of ours did, but hers was the worst. She couldn't stand losing one of her children, so she left the other three behind. At least that's what it felt like. The anger stage of my grief lasted a very, very long time.”

There was a heaviness that hung in the air as I finished stitching his wound. It felt suffocating, like it was a heavy weight pressing on my chest. I lowered the volume of my voice a little to keep myself from crying. “Alright, I’ve just gotta wrap it up and you’re done.”

“Mine was a house fire,” he started to explain, and as he talked, I continued wrapping his wound, using as gentle of a touch as I could and offering small comforting pats and strokes in between. I felt his muscles continue to relax into my hands as I worked. “I was a kid. Ran home after we saw fire trucks comin’ down the street. Finally caught up to the other kids and saw it was my house. Mom was inside. Some combo of her wine ’n smokes. Didn’t feel real for a long time.” Before I finished patching him up, I ran my hands over the back of his arms and offered small squeezes, like tiny hugs from my fingers. This was by far the most vulnerable he’d been around me, and I wanted to make sure he felt safe, seen, and comforted.

“I’m so sorry Daryl. You didn’t deserve for that to happen.”

"Didn’t deserve yours neither.” I ran my fingers over and flattened out the last piece of medical tape.

“There we go, you’re all patched up now,” I said, grabbing a small bottle of antibiotics and handing it to him. “you’ll have to change the dressing every day. I can help you with that. And you’ll have to take those for like a week. Make sure you stay on top of that.”

“Do I gotta? Didn’t think it was that bad,” he said, flipping the little orange bottle around in his hand.

I sat myself up on the exam table next to him, “Daryl, what kind of doctor would I be if I let you get an infection?”

Taglist: @raddydaddydude

Divider was found on Google via searching for stock images

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Fifteen

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

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, discussion of past suicide, discussion of parent death (suicide, house fire), mention of scars (Daryl's), medical procedure (stitches), blood, allusion to child abuse (Daryl's), men being creepy, reference to sibling death, we got some big emotions in this one

Word count: 3.3k

Daryl and I began to get much closer after that second run. Eating dinner together became sort of a ritual of ours, other than the nights Daryl had duty in the watchtower. At first, it was him in the chair and me on the far end of the couch as I didn’t want to spook him. He never explicitly said it, but I got the vibe that he wasn’t big on physical touch. He always maintained at least a few feet distance between us, never getting too close. Eventually, I tested the waters and sat on the end of the couch closer to him, and that’d been our dinner arrangement ever since. Over the next few weeks, Rick had us go out on more runs. It was strange to me that I always heard about them from Daryl and never from Rick. I didn’t want to do anything that could get me in trouble, like leaving the sanctity of the walls when I wasn’t supposed to, but I was simply following instructions that I was told came from our fearless cowboy leader.

I joined Daryl once when he was working on his bike, and he showed me some stuff about it. Though he was so beautiful that day, I’ll admit, it was hard for me to keep focus. He was wearing one of his classic button-ups with the sleeves cut off, that angel-wing vest he loved so much, and a pair of ripped jeans that hugged his body just right. It was warm, so he was sweating buckets. I was practically drooling as I watched his arm muscles flex and relax as he worked. The way he glistened with sweat, the little hints of joy I heard in his voice as he talked to me about his motorcycle, his gorgeous accent…he was mesmerizing.

He still came and checked on me every night after I fell out of bed, another ritual of ours I suppose. It had evolved to a point where I would stay lying on the floor and give a thumbs up over the side of the bed when I heard the door open, then he’d leave. We’d sometimes spend mornings together, but usually one of us was always up and out before the other was awake, or if Daryl had overnight watch, he’d be just going to sleep when I got up. Typically, the one who got up first made coffee and left the rest out for the other. Sometimes, if he was coming back from an overnight watch, I’d wake up and go downstairs to find the pot just finishing up brewing.

It was obvious one of Daryl’s love languages was acts of service. He didn’t so much have a way with words, but damn he was good at showing how much he cared. Not just towards me, but the way he cared about the whole of Alexandria. He was always volunteering to go on watch, runs, hunts, you name it. He cared so much about the people here and would do whatever he needed to do to make sure we were all safe and protected. And that only made me fall for him even harder.

Though he typically wasn’t one for expressing his emotions with words, there was one morning when he left me a note. I came downstairs, and he was already out as he had gate duty all day. He had poured me coffee in a white mug with daisies on it that I once casually mentioned was my favorite mug of the ones in the cabinet, and there was a short but sweet note with it.

Have the best day

See you at dinner

I kept the note folded up in the back of my notebook where I kept some photos and a note from my brother.

Today, Daryl was teaching me how to hunt. Well, it was the start of that process. First, there was target practice. And I was getting to pick up and shoot that infamous crossbow.

Daryl had carved an X for a target on a tree, and my goal was to hit as dead center as I could. I knelt on one knee behind a fallen tree, which I was instructed to use to steady the crossbow and practice that way first. I could throw a knife over my shoulder and hit a walker square in the forehead. How hard could a crossbow be?

“Does this thing have recoil?” I asked as he handed it to me, “wow, it’s lighter than I thought it’d be.” I flipped the bow around and examined it, running my fingers over its smooth surface but was careful to make sure I didn’t touch anything that looked like a lever or a button. Didn’t wanna go causing any accidents right out the gate.

“Hardly any,” Daryl said, kneeling next to me. We were almost shoulder-to-shoulder. This was the closest we’d ever been, and I could feel the butterflies in my stomach breaking free and trying to crawl their way up my throat.

“You ever kill anyone with this thing?” I asked.

“Yeah. Sometimes, people are more dangerous than them walkers,” he explained, and I nodded. I was all too familiar with the dangers of other human beings during the end of the world.

“I know what you mean,” I replied. I rested the bow on the fallen tree and kept my gaze on the X carved into the tree in front of me. “I’ve never killed anyone. I don’t know if I could. It goes against the oath I took.”

"Hate to burst your bubble, but that don't matter no more."

“I guess not,” I shrugged, “but enough of that, let’s get to practicing.”

“‘lax your shoulders,” he said, gently placing his hands on both of my shoulders and lightly pressing to help me relax them. This was the first time he’d touched me on purpose. My stomach dropped like I was on a rollercoaster. “Geez, you’re tense woman.”

I wouldn’t be so tense if you didn’t make me so nervous, I thought. I propped the crossbow up onto my shoulder like I’d seen Daryl do a thousand times.

“It’s no good if ya don’t load it,” he said. He picked a bolt off of the front of it and reached around me to load it. His arm rested against my back as he strapped the bolt in. It was like he was testing the boundaries of physical closeness, though I didn’t know whether it was mine or his that he was testing. But I didn’t mind one bit. I steadied the bow on my shoulder and the fallen tree, aiming it at my target.

“Ya really gotta relax,” Daryl said, “can’t have this gettin’ in the way neither.” He took the end of my ponytail and draped my hair over my opposite shoulder, “damn, ya hair’s real soft.” I felt myself melting into a puddle, and my hands started to shake a bit as my heart rate picked up.

“Thank you. I grew it all by myself,” I laughed.

“How long'd it take ya to grow it out?”

“Oh God, I think the last time I got a drastic haircut was when I was like 13,”  I explained, “sometimes I think about chopping it all off because it gets in my way so much. And it feels like it weighs 20 pounds when it’s wet.”

“Ya should keep it long. Looks good.” I smiled and looked down at the ground, trying to hide that I was obviously turning red.

“Thanks,” I said. I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself again.

“Hey, you’re shakin’,” Daryl said, placing a hand on my shoulder in an effort to help me relax, “just take a breath. You’re good.” His voice was soft, soothing, and calming. Still laced with his gravely accent, but there was genuine caring and compassion behind his words.

“Nervous jitters I guess,” I said, taking another deep breath in through my nose. I lied straight through my teeth.

“Alright, look through the scope and aim it at the target,” he said. He kept his hand on my shoulder.

“Looks easy enough,” I said, perhaps a little too confidently as I did as he instructed.

“Once ya got it lined up, ya just pull the lever on the bottom,” Daryl explained, “helps if ya breathe out when ya do it.” I took a deep breath and fired, exhaling like he told me to. The bolt went flying right past the tree, not even grazing it. It landed far off in the grass somewhere I couldn’t see.

“I stand corrected on it looking easy,” I said, feeling horrifically embarrassed, “I missed the tree completely. How did I even do that?”

“It happens. Gotta get used to holdin’ it still. C’mon, I’ll show ya how to load it.” He gestured for me to hand his bow to him.

“At this point, I’ll just be happy to hit the tree at all,” I said, giggling a little to try to make myself feel better.

That’s how we spent the next couple of hours. Me attempting to hit the tree, somehow missing it completely or just grazing it, which was starting to feel like a win, and trying to find the bolts in the grass. He never seemed to get impatient or frustrated with me, even when I was starting to get frustrated with myself. He reassured me, helped me set up and reload, and tried to help me feel more confident.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally did it. I hit the very outskirts of the giant X target, but I hit it nonetheless. I about jumped into the air with how excited I was.

“Oh my God, I did it!” I cheered, nearly dropping the crossbow to the ground in surprise. A gigantic grin spread across my face as I looked at Daryl. “I did it!”

“Knew ya could do it,” he congratulated. He had reached out and was stroking the back of my arm with his fingers. His touch was so light, it felt like being tickled with a feather. I could feel goosebumps forming, but thankfully, my sleeve hid them. “Think that’s the first time I seen ya do that too.”

I looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Seen me do what?”

“Smile like that.” It occurred to me that he was referring to the fact that I was smiling with my teeth out. And he was right—this was the first time I’d smiled like that in months.

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

That evening, I found myself working late in the infirmary. A couple of the kids had gotten into a fight, and while their injuries weren’t too bad, they still required attention. A couple of scraped knees and small cuts later, I was supposed to be going home for the evening, but as I was getting ready to leave, the infirmary door swung open one last time, and in came Daryl. He’d been covering gate duty for a couple of hours, and I figured he must’ve seen the infirmary light on and came to check on me.

“Hey, there’s my little Georgia peach,” I said, giving him a big smile. He looked at me with a solemn face, which concerned me a little. “Daryl…are you ok?” He didn’t say anything at first. He simply kept eye contact with me as he stepped closer.

“I, uh, need your help with somethin’,” he said. He took his bow off of his back and turned around. There was a sizable gash across his mid-back, his clothes stained with dried blood.

“Jesus, get your ass up here,” I ordered, gesturing to the exam table. I started grabbing things like gloves and antiseptic. “What the hell happened?”

“Couple of ‘em pricks was talkin’ ‘bout ya,” he said as he sat down on the table and scooted back to the edge. I froze and swallowed hard. I hadn’t really gotten to know any of the men who typically had gate duty, and the only times I saw them were when I was coming and going through the gate, and I was always with Daryl.

“You got this defending me? Jesus, I’m so sorry. I feel awful.” I continued grabbing everything I would need, like cotton pads, medical tape, tools for stitches, and antibiotics.

“Nah, jackasses had it comin’.”

“What did you do to them?”

“Roughed ‘em up a bit. Let ‘em know not to say nothin’ like that ‘gain,” Daryl explained.

“Do I wanna know what they were saying about me?”

“Probably not. Bein’ a buncha creeps.” The never-ending list of things they could’ve been saying swirled through my mind, and I felt sick. I suppressed the nausea that quickly made its home in my stomach.

“Great. Just when I was starting to feel safe here,” I sighed. I thought I’d finally found a place away from the prying eyes of creepy men, but unfortunately, I was wrong.

Daryl looked back over his shoulder at me with kind eyes. “Don’t worry. I won’t let ‘em give ya any trouble.” I gave him a smile and a nod.

“Alright, I need you to take your shirt off. Then I’m gonna clean it and stitch it up. I’ll talk you through each step so you know what to expect since you can’t see it,” I explained. I slipped my gloves on after washing my hands thoroughly and scooted a stool over with my foot so I would sit higher up. Daryl fidgeted a little on the table, and he seemed nervous. I could tell he was in pain from his injury, but something else seemed to be bothering him.

“If you’re not comfortable taking your shirt off, that’s ok. I just need you to lift it enough so I can work,” I said, “don’t wanna go stitching your shirt to your back.” To my surprise, he lifted his shirt up and off over his head, letting it slide down his arms into his lap.

When he did, I understood why I’d never seen Daryl shirtless before.

There were scars all across his back. Not the kind of scars you’d get from being in a motorcycle or car accident, or burn scars, or from taking a really bad tumble as a kid. No, these scars were intentionally inflicted by another person. My heart shattered, but I kept my composure.

How could someone do something so awful to someone so good?

I made sure to utilize my calming bedside manner voice. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about. I have seen anything you can possibly imagine. Plus, I have scars of my own. I know better than to ask about anyone else's."

I grabbed a cloth soaked with some warm water so I could clean up some of the dried blood, and I gently started rubbing it on his back. “I’m gonna try to get as much of this dried blood off as I can.” He tensed a little bit under my touch, so I tried my best to be even lighter, but I could only press so lightly while still getting the blood off. I decided to clean just enough around the wound to make the process quicker, and he could take care of the rest when he showered.

“Alright, I have to clean it now so it won’t get infected. I won’t lie, this is going to sting a little. But I’m just taking a cotton pad with some antiseptic and patting around it,” I explained. I started patting his wound with the cotton pad, and he flinched just a tiny bit. I placed my other hand on his arm and stroked it gently with my thumb. “Hey, you’re ok. You’re doing great.” As I stroked his arm, I felt him start to relax.

My heart was breaking for him. The sensation of the antiseptic in his open wound must’ve felt similar to whatever created the scars on his back. I tried to think of something to talk about to distract him.

“I like your tattoo, Daryl,” I said, “does it mean anything?”

“Jus’ thought it looked cool,” he replied.

“I actually have a few tattoos of my own,” I told him, “I know, there’s something you didn’t know about me. I have a sternum piece with flowers on it, bumblebees on the back of each of my thighs, and a bouquet of daisies on the front of my right hip. I liked the idea of having tattoos that only certain people get to see. People that I get to choose." I hoped that, maybe one day, I’d get to show Daryl my tattoos. I set the cotton pad on the table next to him. “I’m done cleaning it now. Could you straighten up for me? I’m gonna stitch it up now. It’ll probably hurt a little, but it won’t burn like the antiseptic did.”

"They mean anythin'?" he asked as he sat up straight.

"I really like sternum pieces, so that's why I got that one. Daisies are my favorite flower, and the bumblebees are for my mom.” I got to work stitching him up as I talked. “Gardening was her favorite hobby, and we had a huge one in our backyard growing up. She taught my brothers and I about the different kinds of pollinators and how important they were. Bumblebees were her favorite. I got them a couple of years after she passed.”

“Lost my mom too,” Daryl said. It was the first time he’d mentioned his mom in any capacity. “What happened to her? If you’re ok talkin’ ‘bout it.”

“She umm…she killed herself a couple of months after Preston died. Hung herself in his closet. My dad was the one that found her.” I blinked back some tears. Stitching up someone’s wound was not the time to be crying. “Her mental health really declined after his passing. I mean, all of ours did, but hers was the worst. She couldn't stand losing one of her children, so she left the other three behind. At least that's what it felt like. The anger stage of my grief lasted a very, very long time.”

There was a heaviness that hung in the air as I finished stitching his wound. It felt suffocating, like it was a heavy weight pressing on my chest. I lowered the volume of my voice a little to keep myself from crying. “Alright, I’ve just gotta wrap it up and you’re done.”

“Mine was a house fire,” he started to explain, and as he talked, I continued wrapping his wound, using as gentle of a touch as I could and offering small comforting pats and strokes in between. I felt his muscles continue to relax into my hands as I worked. “I was a kid. Ran home after we saw fire trucks comin’ down the street. Finally caught up to the other kids and saw it was my house. Mom was inside. Some combo of her wine ’n smokes. Didn’t feel real for a long time.” Before I finished patching him up, I ran my hands over the back of his arms and offered small squeezes, like tiny hugs from my fingers. This was by far the most vulnerable he’d been around me, and I wanted to make sure he felt safe, seen, and comforted.

“I’m so sorry Daryl. You didn’t deserve for that to happen.”

"Didn’t deserve yours neither.” I ran my fingers over and flattened out the last piece of medical tape.

“There we go, you’re all patched up now,” I said, grabbing a small bottle of antibiotics and handing it to him. “you’ll have to change the dressing every day. I can help you with that. And you’ll have to take those for like a week. Make sure you stay on top of that.”

“Do I gotta? Didn’t think it was that bad,” he said, flipping the little orange bottle around in his hand.

I sat myself up on the exam table next to him, “Daryl, what kind of doctor would I be if I let you get an infection?”

Taglist: @raddydaddydude

Divider was found on Google via searching for stock images

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Sixteen

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, PTSD

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, discussion of past suicide, discussion of sibling death, discussion of parent death, mention of depression, mention of medical procedures, men being creepy, description of nightmares (being tied up, being held at gunpoint, allusion to rape), PTSD, panic attacks

Word count: 2.8k

Though it was already getting late when he came in, Daryl and I sat on that infirmary table and talked for a long time. I talked more about my mom, and he started slowly opening up about the things he and Merle got into before the world fell. There were a lot of drugs and drinking from what I was able to gather, but he was a bit conservative with the details. I didn’t mind that at all. Just the fact that he was willing to even lightly approach the more vulnerable subjects meant a lot to me. It made me feel like he felt I was a safe person to talk to, to be open with, and it made me happy that I could do that for him.

“My mom, she always saw the good in everyone. Both of my parents really, but her in particular. She was so caring, giving, always wanting to do the absolute most she could for the people she cared about,” I explained.

“Guess that’s where ya get it from,” Daryl replied, eliciting a small, flattered smile from me.

“That’s why watching her spiral after Preston died was even harder to watch. For two months, she sank deeper and deeper into this bottomless pit of depression. My dad, Jay, Eli, and I did everything we could to try to help her. Mind you, Jay and Eli had been deployed in the middle of all of this, and I was still in med school, so we tried our hardest with everything else we had going on. And then she just…couldn’t take it anymore.”

I could feel myself getting emotional, and I tried my best to turn it off. I blinked back some tears, and tiny droplets flew off my lashes onto the lenses of my glasses. “She tried her best to be the best example she could for my brothers and I. She told me that when she was growing up, she’d always say that if she ever had kids, she would do everything she could to make sure we made the world a better place. I didn’t learn that until I was older and had already decided I wanted to be a doctor, but it helped reaffirm for me that going to med school was the right decision.”

“She’d be proud of ya,” he said, his tone a little softer now. I had to do everything in my power to stop myself from turning into a blubbering, sobbing mess right then and there. He reached out and stroked the back of my arm with his fingers, just like he had done earlier during target practice. “Speakin’ of med school, don’t think I ever asked ya what your favorite part ‘bout bein’ a doctor is.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite, but what I find most fulfilling is when people come in, alive but unconscious or barely conscious, and they don’t think they’re going to make it. They may have already started making peace with the fact that they were likely going to die. And then hours or days later, they awaken & I get to be there to greet them and tell them that they made it. They almost always start crying, and their family might come in, and pretty soon it’s just a room full of people sobbing. They thank me over and over, sometimes followed by a story about how now they’ll be around to see their child get married or their grandchild graduate.” I took my glasses off and set them beside me on the table, using the back of my hands to wipe the tears off my cheeks. “I do what I need to do quickly so that I can give them their time together and also try not to start crying myself. I also find doing skin grafts really fulfilling because it can help people who’ve had really bad injuries or burns feel semi-normal again. The world is cruel towards people who don’t look “perfect,” so if I can help someone feel a bit more confident in themselves after an accident, that makes me happy.”

Daryl leaned over and grabbed a tissue box off of the counter, handing it to me. “Could ya show me some stuff ‘bout skin grafts?”

I pulled a few of the tissues out and dabbed at my eyes with them. “Umm, sure. Yeah, I can teach you about them. Why?"

"I like learnin’ ‘bout the things ya interested in. I may not understand it, but if it's important to ya, it's important to me." That warming sensation returned to my chest, this time so intense that I thought it might burst through my ribcage. Thankfully I was sitting because I felt my knees weaken, and a big, stupid grin spread across my face as I stared down at my feet swinging back and forth. That was exactly what I had said to him when I asked him to teach me things about his bike.

“Yeah, I can teach you some stuff,” I said, “whenever you want works for me.”

“Later ‘cause ya lookin’ real tired,” Daryl said, hopping off of the exam table and gathering his bow off the floor.

“Hey Daryl?” I said, and he turned his body to face me. I slid myself off the exam table as well. “There’s been a lot of…heavy emotions in here tonight. I just wanna make sure you’re ok.”

“‘ll be alright,” he replied. I took my tissues off the table and tossed them into the nearby trash can. “What about you?”

“Me too. I’ll be ok,” I said as we walked towards the door together, “and thank you for being vulnerable with me. I appreciate it. I hope…I hope you don’t regret it.”

“Nah, don’t got regrets with tellin’ ya things,” Daryl said. He opened the door and held it for me. I flipped the light switch off, and I was grateful for the darkness of night that now concealed my blushing face. He let the door swing shut behind him.

As we reached the path, the guys that were on gate duty with Daryl were walking by, heading home after their shift change. One of them walked by without so much as a glance in our direction. The other two walked by slowly, the looks on their faces ones I knew all too well. Every woman under the sun knew that look—being ogled, them undressing you with their eyes, thinking about the things they wanted to do to you. It made me nauseous. I took a step back, and Daryl held an arm out in front of me as if to let them know that if they wanted to approach me, they’d have to go through him.

I wondered which one of them was responsible for Daryl’s injury. If I ever found out, there would be hell to pay.

We watched them in silence until they were down the path and approaching their homes. Only then did Daryl move his arm out from in front of me.

“I don’t like the way they were looking at me,” I said as we continued home.

“Me neither,” Daryl agreed, “don’t worry though. They know not to say nothin’ to ya. Let me know if they do. Rough ‘em more if I gotta.”

“Thanks Daryl,” I replied as we went inside.

I kicked my boots off and yawned, stretching my arms out over my head. “I think I’m gonna go to sleep. I’m sure it’s late.” I hadn’t eaten since lunch, but the exhaustion I was feeling from my busy day was overshadowing my grumbling stomach.

Daryl sauntered into the kitchen and pulled a pot out from one of the cabinets. “I’ll save some food for ya.”

“Thank you,” I replied. I turned and started to make my way towards the stairs to go to my room, but stopped and turned back around. “Goodnight my little Georgia peach.” I’d started calling him that a couple of weeks ago, only in private, and even though he almost always scoffed at me when I did, I knew he didn’t hate it. He might’ve even liked it a little.

“‘Night short stuff,” he said. He’d taken to calling me “short stuff” because of my reactions to being called “tiny.” I knew he was only teasing when he called me “short stuff” or “tiny,” but I would be lying if I said I didn’t absolutely love it when he called me by one of his nicknames for me.

What Daryl and I had had definitely evolved beyond just a friendship. It was more of a…flirtationship, if you will.

At this point, I’d been at Alexandria for a month and a half or so. And the night that I’d been dreading for weeks finally came—the night that the horrible nightmare I’d been having became crystal clear.

Every sound, every touch, every sight was as clear as could be. It was like I’d been sucked back in time and was right back in that moment again.

I felt the cold barn floor underneath me and his crushing weight on top of me. I felt my hands tied above my head and the rope digging into my skin as I writhed around. I could hear his heavy breathing and the gun scrape against my teeth as it was forced into my mouth. I felt hot tears stream down my cheeks as I realized what was happening. And I could see his face—his evil, smug fucking face no less than two inches from mine.

In my head, the scream I let out could’ve shattered glass.

I awoke on the floor, running my hands all over my body in a panicked state. It took several moments for me to realize I was awake, back on my bedroom floor in Alexandria, like I always was. I hadn’t felt fear like that since the incident itself. The adrenaline that was coursing through my veins was the only thing that kept me upright.

I curled up into a ball against the bed, sobbing hysterically into my knees. My tears felt scalding, burning my skin as they slid down off of my cheeks. I was so wrapped up in my fear that I didn’t think about how Daryl would be coming in at any moment, just like he always did. Nor did I hear the door open when he finally did.

I heard his familiar footsteps move from the door around the bed over to me. He knelt, then sat down next to me. I didn’t look up at him, I couldn’t. I felt so ashamed, both for how my nightmare made me feel and for Daryl having to see me like this. Sure, he’d seen me cry on a few occasions, but none of those times were like this. None were this intense, this visceral, this raw.

“Hey, are ya ok? Ya get hurt?” Daryl asked, his tone velvety soft and a level of concern in his voice I’d never heard before. I didn’t know what to say or do. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to curl up into the tiniest ball possible and disappear. Even if I had anything to say, I couldn’t find my voice.

When I didn’t say a word or move an inch, he scooted himself a little closer to me until his knee was against my leg. He placed a hand on my back, rubbing it up and down between my waist and my shoulders.

“Vec, what happened?” he asked, more worry in his voice than before, “talk to me.”

I practically lunged at him as I fell forward and wrapped my arms around him. It was like I didn’t have control over my body. I needed something familiar, something safe. More so someone familiar, someone safe. And he was right there. My body was reaching for him whether I wanted it to or not.

“It was so real,” I choked out between sobs, “it was so clear.” His strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me even closer to him until my head was resting in the crook of his neck, my heaving chest pressed to his. And he held me there as I continued to sob.

He was warm, like a heater, and his embrace around me was strong, but there was so much care and tenderness behind it. Even though the intense fear was still plaguing my nervous system, I felt safe wrapped up in his arms. He rubbed one hand up and down my back again.

“You’re ok. You’re safe. It can’t hurt ya,” he reassured.

It was a long time before either of us said anything. After a time, he moved his hand that was rubbing up and down my back to the back of my head and stroked my hair. He held me while I cried, and at one point, he started gently rocking me back and forth. I only continued to feel more ashamed, my face getting hot from embarrassment. I felt like such a baby.

“It was like I was right back in that moment.”

I immediately regretted what I had said. If someone said that to me when referencing a nightmare they had, I would assume that this nightmare was them reliving a horrific experience. And knowing that Daryl listened to every single word that came out of my mouth, he now knew that this, in fact, was real. That I dreamt of a real-life horror story night after night.

“You’re not there. You’re here,” Daryl said as he continued to stroke my hair. He handled me like glass, like he thought I might break if he was even just a little too heavy-handed.

“I could see, hear, feel everything.” I sobbed harder. I felt disgusting, vile, like a thousand showers in bleach couldn’t even scrub away the feeling of disgust I experienced.

Daryl stopped rocking me and moved his hand back to my back. “I know that’s scary. But you’re here now, and I got ya.” He somehow pulled me even closer to him, which I didn’t think was possible.

“I just want the pain to stop.”

“I know.” He didn’t know. He had no idea what I was talking about. But I know he knew how it felt to carry the pain of a traumatic incident and wanting that pain to go away.

My sobbing didn’t let up for a long time. When it started to, it was very gradual. Daryl held onto me the whole time, giving me reminders now and then that I was ok, he was there, and I was safe. After a long, long time, my crying had almost stopped, and I picked my head up off of Daryl’s shoulder. The crook of his neck and the shoulder of his shirt were soaked.

“I’m sorry I got your shirt wet,” I said. It felt like a silly thing to say, but I felt terrible.

“Nah, ’s not important.” He pressed tenderly on my shoulders, ushering me to lift my head out in front of him. For the first time in what felt like the hours we’d been sitting here, I met his gaze. My eyes were puffy, I didn’t need to see them to know that. I’m sure they were red too. I hated that he had to see me like this. “How ya feelin’?”

“Like shit,” I said, “I’m too scared to go back to sleep.” When I would fall out of bed after my initial nightmare, the nightmare never continued once I fell back asleep. That wasn’t what I was worried about.

What I was worried about was seeing that stupid, smug face every time I closed my eyes.

“You can go back to bed,” I said, resting my head back in the crook of his neck, “I’m sorry I kept you up for so long.”

“’s no trouble. C’mon, I’ll stay with ya ’til ya fall asleep,” Daryl said. He got up and stood over me, reaching his arms out for me to grab his hands. He pulled me up, and I was barely on my feet for a second before I fell back into the bed. My whole body felt weak, like my muscles were made of jello.

“Are you sure? I’ve already kept you up for long enough.” Daryl came around to the other side of the bed and sat down, scooting back until he was resting against the headboard. I used what small amount of energy I had left to move until I was laid down, rolling onto my side to face him and pulling my blanket up to my chin.

“I’m sure.” He extended his hand out, resting it next to me, palm up. I reached out and placed my hand in his, and he gently stroked my fingers with his thumb. I’m sure the moment would’ve felt more magical if I didn’t feel like such garbage.

“I’m so sorry, Daryl. I feel like such a burden.”

“Ya ain’t a burden, sunshine. Ya never are.”

Taglist: @raddydaddydude

Divider found on Google via searching for stock images

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Sixteen

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, PTSD

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, discussion of past suicide, discussion of sibling death, discussion of parent death, mention of depression, mention of medical procedures, men being creepy, description of nightmares (being tied up, being held at gunpoint, allusion to rape), PTSD, panic attacks

Word count: 2.8k

Though it was already getting late when he came in, Daryl and I sat on that infirmary table and talked for a long time. I talked more about my mom, and he started slowly opening up about the things he and Merle got into before the world fell. There were a lot of drugs and drinking from what I was able to gather, but he was a bit conservative with the details. I didn’t mind that at all. Just the fact that he was willing to even lightly approach the more vulnerable subjects meant a lot to me. It made me feel like he felt I was a safe person to talk to, to be open with, and it made me happy that I could do that for him.

“My mom, she always saw the good in everyone. Both of my parents really, but her in particular. She was so caring, giving, always wanting to do the absolute most she could for the people she cared about,” I explained.

“Guess that’s where ya get it from,” Daryl replied, eliciting a small, flattered smile from me.

“That’s why watching her spiral after Preston died was even harder to watch. For two months, she sank deeper and deeper into this bottomless pit of depression. My dad, Jay, Eli, and I did everything we could to try to help her. Mind you, Jay and Eli had been deployed in the middle of all of this, and I was still in med school, so we tried our hardest with everything else we had going on. And then she just…couldn’t take it anymore.”

I could feel myself getting emotional, and I tried my best to turn it off. I blinked back some tears, and tiny droplets flew off my lashes onto the lenses of my glasses. “She tried her best to be the best example she could for my brothers and I. She told me that when she was growing up, she’d always say that if she ever had kids, she would do everything she could to make sure we made the world a better place. I didn’t learn that until I was older and had already decided I wanted to be a doctor, but it helped reaffirm for me that going to med school was the right decision.”

“She’d be proud of ya,” he said, his tone a little softer now. I had to do everything in my power to stop myself from turning into a blubbering, sobbing mess right then and there. He reached out and stroked the back of my arm with his fingers, just like he had done earlier during target practice. “Speakin’ of med school, don’t think I ever asked ya what your favorite part ‘bout bein’ a doctor is.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite, but what I find most fulfilling is when people come in, alive but unconscious or barely conscious, and they don’t think they’re going to make it. They may have already started making peace with the fact that they were likely going to die. And then hours or days later, they awaken & I get to be there to greet them and tell them that they made it. They almost always start crying, and their family might come in, and pretty soon it’s just a room full of people sobbing. They thank me over and over, sometimes followed by a story about how now they’ll be around to see their child get married or their grandchild graduate.” I took my glasses off and set them beside me on the table, using the back of my hands to wipe the tears off my cheeks. “I do what I need to do quickly so that I can give them their time together and also try not to start crying myself. I also find doing skin grafts really fulfilling because it can help people who’ve had really bad injuries or burns feel semi-normal again. The world is cruel towards people who don’t look “perfect,” so if I can help someone feel a bit more confident in themselves after an accident, that makes me happy.”

Daryl leaned over and grabbed a tissue box off of the counter, handing it to me. “Could ya show me some stuff ‘bout skin grafts?”

I pulled a few of the tissues out and dabbed at my eyes with them. “Umm, sure. Yeah, I can teach you about them. Why?"

"I like learnin’ ‘bout the things ya interested in. I may not understand it, but if it's important to ya, it's important to me." That warming sensation returned to my chest, this time so intense that I thought it might burst through my ribcage. Thankfully I was sitting because I felt my knees weaken, and a big, stupid grin spread across my face as I stared down at my feet swinging back and forth. That was exactly what I had said to him when I asked him to teach me things about his bike.

“Yeah, I can teach you some stuff,” I said, “whenever you want works for me.”

“Later ‘cause ya lookin’ real tired,” Daryl said, hopping off of the exam table and gathering his bow off the floor.

“Hey Daryl?” I said, and he turned his body to face me. I slid myself off the exam table as well. “There’s been a lot of…heavy emotions in here tonight. I just wanna make sure you’re ok.”

“‘ll be alright,” he replied. I took my tissues off the table and tossed them into the nearby trash can. “What about you?”

“Me too. I’ll be ok,” I said as we walked towards the door together, “and thank you for being vulnerable with me. I appreciate it. I hope…I hope you don’t regret it.”

“Nah, don’t got regrets with tellin’ ya things,” Daryl said. He opened the door and held it for me. I flipped the light switch off, and I was grateful for the darkness of night that now concealed my blushing face. He let the door swing shut behind him.

As we reached the path, the guys that were on gate duty with Daryl were walking by, heading home after their shift change. One of them walked by without so much as a glance in our direction. The other two walked by slowly, the looks on their faces ones I knew all too well. Every woman under the sun knew that look—being ogled, them undressing you with their eyes, thinking about the things they wanted to do to you. It made me nauseous. I took a step back, and Daryl held an arm out in front of me as if to let them know that if they wanted to approach me, they’d have to go through him.

I wondered which one of them was responsible for Daryl’s injury. If I ever found out, there would be hell to pay.

We watched them in silence until they were down the path and approaching their homes. Only then did Daryl move his arm out from in front of me.

“I don’t like the way they were looking at me,” I said as we continued home.

“Me neither,” Daryl agreed, “don’t worry though. They know not to say nothin’ to ya. Let me know if they do. Rough ‘em more if I gotta.”

“Thanks Daryl,” I replied as we went inside.

I kicked my boots off and yawned, stretching my arms out over my head. “I think I’m gonna go to sleep. I’m sure it’s late.” I hadn’t eaten since lunch, but the exhaustion I was feeling from my busy day was overshadowing my grumbling stomach.

Daryl sauntered into the kitchen and pulled a pot out from one of the cabinets. “I’ll save some food for ya.”

“Thank you,” I replied. I turned and started to make my way towards the stairs to go to my room, but stopped and turned back around. “Goodnight my little Georgia peach.” I’d started calling him that a couple of weeks ago, only in private, and even though he almost always scoffed at me when I did, I knew he didn’t hate it. He might’ve even liked it a little.

“‘Night short stuff,” he said. He’d taken to calling me “short stuff” because of my reactions to being called “tiny.” I knew he was only teasing when he called me “short stuff” or “tiny,” but I would be lying if I said I didn’t absolutely love it when he called me by one of his nicknames for me.

What Daryl and I had had definitely evolved beyond just a friendship. It was more of a…flirtationship, if you will.

At this point, I’d been at Alexandria for a month and a half or so. And the night that I’d been dreading for weeks finally came—the night that the horrible nightmare I’d been having became crystal clear.

Every sound, every touch, every sight was as clear as could be. It was like I’d been sucked back in time and was right back in that moment again.

I felt the cold barn floor underneath me and his crushing weight on top of me. I felt my hands tied above my head and the rope digging into my skin as I writhed around. I could hear his heavy breathing and the gun scrape against my teeth as it was forced into my mouth. I felt hot tears stream down my cheeks as I realized what was happening. And I could see his face—his evil, smug fucking face no less than two inches from mine.

In my head, the scream I let out could’ve shattered glass.

I awoke on the floor, running my hands all over my body in a panicked state. It took several moments for me to realize I was awake, back on my bedroom floor in Alexandria, like I always was. I hadn’t felt fear like that since the incident itself. The adrenaline that was coursing through my veins was the only thing that kept me upright.

I curled up into a ball against the bed, sobbing hysterically into my knees. My tears felt scalding, burning my skin as they slid down off of my cheeks. I was so wrapped up in my fear that I didn’t think about how Daryl would be coming in at any moment, just like he always did. Nor did I hear the door open when he finally did.

I heard his familiar footsteps move from the door around the bed over to me. He knelt, then sat down next to me. I didn’t look up at him, I couldn’t. I felt so ashamed, both for how my nightmare made me feel and for Daryl having to see me like this. Sure, he’d seen me cry on a few occasions, but none of those times were like this. None were this intense, this visceral, this raw.

“Hey, are ya ok? Ya get hurt?” Daryl asked, his tone velvety soft and a level of concern in his voice I’d never heard before. I didn’t know what to say or do. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to curl up into the tiniest ball possible and disappear. Even if I had anything to say, I couldn’t find my voice.

When I didn’t say a word or move an inch, he scooted himself a little closer to me until his knee was against my leg. He placed a hand on my back, rubbing it up and down between my waist and my shoulders.

“Vec, what happened?” he asked, more worry in his voice than before, “talk to me.”

I practically lunged at him as I fell forward and wrapped my arms around him. It was like I didn’t have control over my body. I needed something familiar, something safe. More so someone familiar, someone safe. And he was right there. My body was reaching for him whether I wanted it to or not.

“It was so real,” I choked out between sobs, “it was so clear.” His strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me even closer to him until my head was resting in the crook of his neck, my heaving chest pressed to his. And he held me there as I continued to sob.

He was warm, like a heater, and his embrace around me was strong, but there was so much care and tenderness behind it. Even though the intense fear was still plaguing my nervous system, I felt safe wrapped up in his arms. He rubbed one hand up and down my back again.

“You’re ok. You’re safe. It can’t hurt ya,” he reassured.

It was a long time before either of us said anything. After a time, he moved his hand that was rubbing up and down my back to the back of my head and stroked my hair. He held me while I cried, and at one point, he started gently rocking me back and forth. I only continued to feel more ashamed, my face getting hot from embarrassment. I felt like such a baby.

“It was like I was right back in that moment.”

I immediately regretted what I had said. If someone said that to me when referencing a nightmare they had, I would assume that this nightmare was them reliving a horrific experience. And knowing that Daryl listened to every single word that came out of my mouth, he now knew that this, in fact, was real. That I dreamt of a real-life horror story night after night.

“You’re not there. You’re here,” Daryl said as he continued to stroke my hair. He handled me like glass, like he thought I might break if he was even just a little too heavy-handed.

“I could see, hear, feel everything.” I sobbed harder. I felt disgusting, vile, like a thousand showers in bleach couldn’t even scrub away the feeling of disgust I experienced.

Daryl stopped rocking me and moved his hand back to my back. “I know that’s scary. But you’re here now, and I got ya.” He somehow pulled me even closer to him, which I didn’t think was possible.

“I just want the pain to stop.”

“I know.” He didn’t know. He had no idea what I was talking about. But I know he knew how it felt to carry the pain of a traumatic incident and wanting that pain to go away.

My sobbing didn’t let up for a long time. When it started to, it was very gradual. Daryl held onto me the whole time, giving me reminders now and then that I was ok, he was there, and I was safe. After a long, long time, my crying had almost stopped, and I picked my head up off of Daryl’s shoulder. The crook of his neck and the shoulder of his shirt were soaked.

“I’m sorry I got your shirt wet,” I said. It felt like a silly thing to say, but I felt terrible.

“Nah, ’s not important.” He pressed tenderly on my shoulders, ushering me to lift my head out in front of him. For the first time in what felt like the hours we’d been sitting here, I met his gaze. My eyes were puffy, I didn’t need to see them to know that. I’m sure they were red too. I hated that he had to see me like this. “How ya feelin’?”

“Like shit,” I said, “I’m too scared to go back to sleep.” When I would fall out of bed after my initial nightmare, the nightmare never continued once I fell back asleep. That wasn’t what I was worried about.

What I was worried about was seeing that stupid, smug face every time I closed my eyes.

“You can go back to bed,” I said, resting my head back in the crook of his neck, “I’m sorry I kept you up for so long.”

“’s no trouble. C’mon, I’ll stay with ya ’til ya fall asleep,” Daryl said. He got up and stood over me, reaching his arms out for me to grab his hands. He pulled me up, and I was barely on my feet for a second before I fell back into the bed. My whole body felt weak, like my muscles were made of jello.

“Are you sure? I’ve already kept you up for long enough.” Daryl came around to the other side of the bed and sat down, scooting back until he was resting against the headboard. I used what small amount of energy I had left to move until I was laid down, rolling onto my side to face him and pulling my blanket up to my chin.

“I’m sure.” He extended his hand out, resting it next to me, palm up. I reached out and placed my hand in his, and he gently stroked my fingers with his thumb. I’m sure the moment would’ve felt more magical if I didn’t feel like such garbage.

“I’m so sorry, Daryl. I feel like such a burden.”

“Ya ain’t a burden, sunshine. Ya never are.”

Taglist: @raddydaddydude

Divider found on Google via searching for stock images

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Seventeen

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, PTSD

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, discussion of excessive drinking to numb painful emotions, PTSD flashbacks, panic attack, mention of scars

Word count: 2.8k

Sleep eventually came that night, and I felt hellish when I woke up in the morning. "Hellish" was putting it lightly. My head was pounding, my eyes burned, and my entire body was sore, aching like when you have the flu. My chest was heavy, and it felt like it was taking a lot of energy to simply breathe. I don't think I'd ever felt so drained before.

It took a few moments of being awake for me to remember what had happened during the night. I blinked rapidly and looked at the other side of the bed. I remembered Daryl had to be out early for a day of hunting, so I wasn't too hurt when I saw it was empty. Still, I wished he had stayed just long enough for me to wake up.

This day was unusual for me in that I didn't have anything planned, at least not until the evening. There was going to be a community dinner. Everyone was supposed to make something, and we would eat out in the grass by the garden and drink late into the night. I likely wouldn't see Daryl until then, unless he got back early from hunting. I already couldn't wait for him to get back so I could wrap my arms around him and thank him for everything.

My day was going to consist of taking care of myself as best I could after last night and making food for the dinner, maybe seeing if anyone wanted help with theirs. I started by pulling myself out of bed. At first, I just slid out onto the floor. But I got myself out of bed, and that was a start. I didn't quite have the energy to stand, so I crawled over to my dresser and pulled out my clothes. I had decided a few days ago that today was finally going to be the day that I wore that dress Daryl got me weeks ago, back when we hardly knew each other. Not only was I excited to wear it, but I was excited for him to see me in it.

I sat on the floor for a while, letting my body reserve as much energy as it could so I could get myself down to the kitchen. Having not eaten since lunch the day before certainly wasn't helping my situation. After a few minutes, I pulled myself up, steadying myself on the dresser. I looked in the mirror. My eyes were still a bit red, and my lids were swollen, but they weren't too bad. My face felt puffy, and my hair was a mess of bedhead. I would've taken a shower first if my hunger wasn't demanding I make my way to the kitchen.

Daryl had left a container of food for me in the fridge. On the lid was a sticky note with my name on it. Judging by what he wrote, he would've had to leave it this morning before he went out on his hunt.

Vec

Hope you're feeling better

See you tonight

I put the note on the counter so I would remember to put it in my notebook with the other one. Eating helped me to feel a little better, but I still mostly felt like a pile of garbage. The note also put a little smile on my face. After I ate, I lugged myself into the shower in the hopes that that would help me feel less like garbage.

Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.

As I washed myself off in the shower, stills from my nightmare flashed through my mind. It was like my brain was flipping through photos of the incident to taunt me. It made me feel an otherworldly level of gross, disgusting, like the only thing that could cleanse me of the feeling would be to skin myself. I could hardly stand to touch my own skin, to look at my own body, and I ended up curling up into a ball on the floor of the tub and sobbing some more. I wasn't sure how much more of this my poor eyeballs could take.

I don't know how long I spent like that, curled up in a pathetic little ball in the tub, but it was long enough to ride out a panic attack that felt like it lasted for days.

Once the panic attack had mostly subsided, I did my best to finish washing myself off before standing back up. I continued to take deep breaths as I turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing my fresh towel and tossing it around me like a blanket. I couldn't even look at my hands for fear that seeing my scars would send me into another spiral.

One thing was for sure—I was going to be numbing these feelings with alcohol.

I had never blacked out before, as I was a lightweight and didn't even like getting to the point that I was dizzy. I didn't know what I was going to be like, or what to expect, but I didn't care. I couldn't handle these feelings anymore. They'd been creeping up on me more and more the last few weeks, and last night was the catalyst for my impending drunken state. I could only hope I wouldn't make a total fool of myself and ruin things with Daryl.

I sat on my bed, trying to focus on my breathing and calm my nervous system down. I had talked patients down from panic attacks before, but talking yourself down from one was different. After some time, I was breathing normally again, and my heart rate had returned to a steady beat. I dried myself off and got dressed, and the sight of me in the stunning dress Daryl picked for me made me smile.

I did a small twirl in the mirror. The dress fit perfectly. The hem sat right around my ankles, and the slit came up to my mid-thigh on my right leg. It was nice and flowy around my lower body and hugged my waist and chest just right. It was like it was crafted just for me. I couldn't wait for Daryl to see.

I didn't need to start preparing food until later, so I thought I would go see if anyone needed help with preparing theirs or needed help with anything else. I grabbed my bag, put my boots on, and headed outside. It was a gorgeous day, nice and sunny and perfect for the evening's activities. People were bustling around, busy completing their daily tasks so they could relax when dinnertime came around. It was wonderful to see people getting excited about something and coming together so that we all could have a normal, non-apocalyptic experience.

I started off at Glenn and Maggie's. I hadn't spent time with Maggie in a while, and truly, I was less concerned about seeing if she needed help and more so just wanted to hang out. Maggie had become like a sister to me. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed spending time with Daryl. But I also was in desperate need of some girl time.

"Hey. I just wanted to see if y'all needed help with anything for tonight. And I missed you," I said.

"Yeah, long time no see," she said. She stepped out onto the porch and gave me a hug, acknowledging my dress as she pulled away. “Whoa, where'd you pull that out from?" She opened the door and ushered me inside.

"Oh, it was a gift," I explained. She had an inquisitive look on her face.

"From...?" Maggie asked. I looked down at the floor and smiled. Her quick response let me know that I didn't need to explain. She knew. "No, really? That's so sweet!"

"Yeah. He said he thought of me when he saw it and thought I would like it. It's my first time wearing it." I looked back up at Maggie, whose jaw was nearly on the floor. “He tried to tell me that he just got lucky and didn't remember that my favorite color is blue, but I'm pretty sure he remembered."

"Oh he never forgot," she gushed, starting to walk away towards another room, "hold on, I have just the thing to add to your look." She returned a minute later with a curling iron in her hand. "Look what I found the other day. Can I do your hair?" She sounded so excited at the idea, I had a hard time saying no.

"Sure," I said, following her off to the bathroom, "why not? I have a lot of hair though, I hope you got time."

"Glenn can make the food for tonight. We got all the time we need."

We spent hours in that tiny bathroom, chatting and laughing and giggling like old friends. It felt like getting ready with a girlfriend to go out to the club on a weekend. It was times like this that made things seem normal, even if it was just for a few hours. We only took a break at one point for lunch, and Maggie explained to Glenn that he would be cooking for tonight's event. He was less than pleased.

"Are you gonna dress cute tonight?" I asked Maggie as she was moving on to the last chunks of my hair.

"I may have found something nice to wear," she said, a little smirk on her face and laughter in her voice.

"Oooh, you'll have to show me when we're done. We gotta make sure Rosita and Michonne do too. Ah I'm so excited!" I gushed.

After she finished the last piece of my hair, I stood up and looked in the bathroom mirror. It was somewhere between soft waves and tight ringlet curls, and despite being curled, it still reached down past my chest. Having my hair done was just the confidence boost I needed.

"Maggie, you killed it," I said. I twirled around and gave her another hug.

"You look great. Daryl's gonna have a hard time taking his eyes off you," she said. I caught myself turning red in the mirror, and her chuckling at me indicated that she had caught it too.

"Well, he can look as much as he wants," I gushed.

"Will he get to do more than just look?"

"Maggie!" I gave her shoulder a gentle shove, and I could feel the red on my face becoming brighter. She only laughed more.

"C'mon, let me show you what I picked out," she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the bathroom to go upstairs.

Once I left Maggie's, I went over to see Rosita and then Michonne. I wasn't able to find Rosita, but I did tell Michonne about what Maggie and I planned, and it didn't take much convincing to get her to join us. She showed me a cute little cream-colored dress that she had but hadn't worn before, and I gushed over how pretty she would look in it. It felt good to be able to hype up my fellow women.

I took a little stroll around the community before going home to make food for the eventful evening to come. After I finished making the food, I hand-washed some pots and pans. I had squatted down on the floor to put something away in a lower cabinet when I heard the front door open. I figured it had to be Daryl. The butterflies in my stomach awakened. I was both excited and extremely nervous for him to see me all dolled up.

"Hey, there's my bonafide badass," I said as I popped my head up over the island in the kitchen. His chocolate hair hung in front of his face, obstructing his eyes from my view, but I could feel that they were on me. He had taken off his bow and his jacket, both of which had been tossed on the floor, and he had started walking in my direction. “How did the hunt go?"

"Real well. Probably the best in—wow." He cut off his sentence as I got up and walked around the other side of the island. My heart was pounding. "Ya wearin' it."

"Yeah. I, uh, finally found an occasion to wear it," I said, taking a few steps closer to him and giving him a couple of little twirls. “What do you think?"

He didn't say anything at first, just eyed me up and down, which I didn't mind. Like I told Maggie, he could look as much as he wanted. He stepped closer to me and wrapped his arms around me, giving me the tightest and most gentle hug I could imagine. I wrapped my arms around his neck in return. He was a little sweaty and dirty from being out in the sun all day, but I didn't care. My knees felt weak, and I practically melted into him as he pulled me closer.

"Ya look real nice." His sweet Southern accent right in my ear sent shivers down my spine. "Dress fits perfect."

"Thank you. The hair is courtesy of Maggie. It took hours."

"She did great," Daryl said. We spent another few moments like that before Daryl released me from the hug. But he still kept me close, running his hands up and down from my shoulders to my elbows. His work-worn hands caressing my bare skin felt immaculate. “How ya feelin' after last night?" I kept my gaze on his chest. I was finding it difficult to look him in the eye when I thought about what happened the night before. I was still feeling ashamed.

"Alright. I had some...moments throughout the day, but I'm ok." I could feel him looking down at me. He only had three, maybe four inches on me at most, but he still had to peer down to look at me, especially when we were this close. I twiddled my thumbs together anxiously. "I'm sorry about what happened. I feel bad for keeping you up, and I feel like such a baby for how I acted."

"Don't apologize. Nothin' ya did wrong. Just glad you're ok," Daryl said. His voice was always so silky soft when he talked to me, and it made me melt even more. "Wanted to stay with ya 'til ya got up, but I had to leave early. Sorry 'bout that." I leaned my head forward and rested my forehead on his chest. Being this close to him, wrapped up in his arms like this...it was my own personal heaven.

"That's ok, it's not your fault. Thank you for everything you did for me. I—" I cut myself off before using the word I considered. I lifted my head to look at him, our eyes locking immediately. Those stunning blue irises made me weak. "I appreciate you. A lot."

"Anytime sunshine," he reassured, and I gave him a big grin in return.

"I should get the food outside. Wanna come with me?"

"Ya go on. I'll be out soon," he said. I skipped over into the kitchen and grabbed the slow cooker, and Daryl went upstairs. I propped the appliance up on my leg and let myself outside.

Someone had taken one of the infirmary tables and set it up in the grass, and plenty of people had already brought their dishes out and were gathering together. There was also a separate table set up for alcohol. I went over and sat the slow cooker down on the infirmary table, and I could see Rosita bouncing over towards me.

"Dude, you look hot," she exclaimed, giving me a hug as she approached me, "your hair looks amazing. How long did that take?"

"Thank you. Maggie did it. It took literal hours," I said, "and so do you. You look so cute. I wish we had a way to take pictures."

"Thanks. She caught me earlier and told me you all planned to dress up, told me I should join in."

"Oh good. I tried to find you earlier to tell you, but I couldn't," I explained. I tapped my foot on the ground and crossed my arms over my chest. "Rosita, I need you to do me a huge favor. I'm looking to get drunk tonight. Like really drunk. If you think I might start saying something about Daryl, something that he or anyone else shouldn't hear, I need you to punch me in the stomach as hard as you can." Her expression changed to a confused one. "I mean that. Don't hold back. Knock some sense into me."

"Vector, I'm not gonna punch you. But I will stop you from saying something you'd regret. How much do you plan on drinking?"

"You don't wanna know."

Taglist: @raddydaddydude

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Mallow Flowers (1)

Malva sylvestris: Mallow carries many symbolic meanings that overlap, including romantic interest, healing, and survival in tough conditions.

(a/n) This is my first TWD fic but I've been watching the series for a while :) This post will also continue into a series, thankyou so much for reading and any feedback is appreciated (a/n end)

You don't know how long it had been since the world fell apart, days? weeks? months? It didn't matter, all you could focus on was the burning in your feet and shins, and the painful cramp in your ribs. The sun beamed down through the trees, what was once a beautiful green canopy you could find solace in, now obstacles as you ran through the woods, forcing yourself to keep going against your body's will. In some desperate attempt to ignore its pleas your mind went to anything it could, and that was the cause of the world’s fall. You had never been religious but you thought if there was a god, he had one fucked up sense of humor to bring the dead back to life. Though as if he heard you, an unearthed root caught your worn down sneakers and sent you tumbling head first down a hill. 

Finally your body came to a stop, more bruised than before, a stinging cut adorning the bridge of your nose, you're pretty sure it's broken. A groan left your lungs and you shifted to get up, but you were barely able to lift your hands more than a few inches off the muddy soil. Muddy… OH MY GOD. Mud, the sign that there was a stream in reach. As soon as the promise of water reached your cloudy mind, so did the scratchy feeling in your mouth and throat, that small stream suddenly became your goal, a life line to reach for. 

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Hand gripping the earth, slightly pushing your body up slowly, following the rhythm of your now caught breath. It was agonizing, not the physical pain, but the sound of running water, that couldn't be more than ten feet away, but was miles out of reach. Though you were never one to give up, not when you were little, not when your teenage self thought being happy was impossible, and definitely not now, not when your life depended on it when your life depended on it.

“Dad this is impossible, can't we just stop for today?” 

The wooden bow clutched that had fired arrows anywhere but the red not in the middle of the target. You knew it was possible to let go of that string and had the sharpened tip make a bullseye. You've seen it done many times, even by the tall man next to you, but in your hands it felt like you were destined to fail.

“It ain't impossible y/n, you just need practice more, if you give up now y'all know if the next arrow you shoot i'll be the one to hit that target”

His eyes met yours, and they held the same look they did whenever you tried to give up, the encouragement and strictness that kept you trying.

You hadn't hit a bullseye that day, but you went out the next and the next until that red dot no longer seemed like a threat, but an achievable target you had learned to concur. 

Each movement felt like dragging a weight behind you, the overexertion, sleep deprivation, and over all malnourishment was catching up. You didn't know you had crossed what felt like the Oregon trail to the stream until the cuts on your hands stung slightly at the cool liquid. It didn't take long for you to dunk your face into it, all reasonable thought gone as you scooped water into your mouth with your hands, stomach hurting from the odd feeling of not being completely empty. Laying back to face the sky you felt as though for the first time since the end, you weren't completely fucked. You knew you weren't safe, not with the dead walking, but that didn't stop your lead heavy eyelids from betraying you and falling closed.

Dreams have meanings, hell theres books about it. But you didn't quite know what a dream about a crossbow wielding man carrying you away from the stream you passed out is supposed to symbolize. Maybe he was sometime of guardian angel here to bring you to the afterlife? Who knows, if he is, at least your guardian angel's handsome

Fun fact of the post: I just got broken up with (^-^)

Love You No Matter What

Daryl Dixon x Transmasc!Reader

Warnings: Slight angst, dysphoria, unsafe binding methods, mentions of transphobia? Reader being insecure, horribly written southern accent, ooc daryl? sorry this is kinda bad

Sorry about this being kinda rushed I just had the idea and wanted to wright smth self indulgent.

The hot Georgia sun beamed down onto the broad shoulders of the man next to you, beads of sweat forming on the flexing muscles of Daryl's arms. Your eyes unfocusing from the fence of a pigpen you two were working on guiding to admire him, they trailed up from his arms to the collar of his worn tank top. The fraying seams giving way to his neck and the edges of his unruly dark hair, all the way up to his stormy eyes.

Slightly shaking your head, you tried to concentrate on the task and hand to get out of this heat as soon as possible, and not on the captivating sight of your boyfriend.

You had harbored feelings for the southern man since the second he pulled you away from a herd of walkers at the quarry camp. He had felt the same way, enthralled by the way your eyes caught the sun rays like stained glass, the small scars that littered you like the words on a novel and, he could have gone on forever, but he would never admit out loud. It hasn't been till the fall of the CDC that you both truly realized your feelings for each other were mutual. From that point on you had an unspoken bond, not a label, it didn't matter in the apocalypse, but you were together, a packaged deal.  After sleepless nights on the road, the scare of his brush with death at the farm and whispered conversations in your shared cell in the prison walls, you and Daryl were nothing if not in love. Yet out here in the striking heat of the prison courtyard, a spike of pain from your ribs right under the tightly wound bandages of your chest was a stark reminder of the one thing you were too scared to divulge to the man who knew everything about you.

The fence finally completed, rose to his feet, offering on hand to help you and your accompanying tools up with him.

"Y'all right there?" his southern drawls laced with a hint of worry and you wobbled a bit on your feet.

"It's nothin', just lost my balance a bit" you smiled at him, a bit of a laugh in your voice as you saw the way his bangs stuck to his sweat covered forehead in a heart pattern.

"Good, can't have yeh' gettin sick out here cus of some bastard sun" He placed the tools into his own hands and you two trudged up the hill the cold prison walls. Just imagining the cool stone and water that waited for you there was putting a pep in your step.

Entering your shared cell you flop onto the bed, arms stretched above your head to relieve some of the pressure on your shoulders after the day's work as the taller man beside you goes to lay next to you. Even though you love him with all your heart you still throw the pillow at his face.

“Shower first dirt man”

He shoots you a mock offended look before giving you a kiss anyway, and heading on his way to the showers.

“The things i do for you” You can hear his slightly annoyed tone under his breath as he leaves and you smile.

Now alone in the makeshift room that is the prison cell you close the curtain in front of the barred doors as some sort of privacy. Peeling your shirt off slowly the bandages you had been using since the beginning of the end wound tightly around your chest where now revealed. Angry red marks peaked from tier edges as you tried your best to ignore their stinging. Untying the knot of the bandage gingerly you began to unwrap the cloth, each time relieving a bit of the pressure on your ribs but increasing that feeling of dysphoria uneasiness that settled in your stomach. It was slow, each layer of bandages painstakingly unraveling into your hands. Too focused on the task at hand the heavy footsteps growing closer in the prison hallway reminded you of the unknown to you, until the jerk of the curtain being pulled aside brought you back into reality. Holding the portion of unraveled cloth close to your still bound chess you stared into Daryl’s eyes like a deer in headlights.

His dark hair still dripping slightly onto his threadbare tank top, his eyes raked over you in worry, quickly approaching you even as you began to startle back, there was slight anger in his gaze as well, scaring you even more than he had startled you.

“Y/n wha’ happened” His voice was stern with the slight hint of fear he had used anytime you were injured.

“Did this happen on the last run? We gotta get you to Dr. S” He again walked over to reach for you, not understanding the way you slightly cowered with your arms firmly gripping your upper torso.

“Daryl I'm not, I'm not hurt it ok, dont worry Im fine '' The words stumbled out of your mouth with a tint of fear and uncertainty you'd never used with him.

“You got bandaged coverin half your body can you expect me not to’think your hurt!” His tone raised slightly and you knew he was worried, but you couldn't tell him, you didn't know how.

Your eyes started to wet as you sunk to the floor, you were strong, you always were, but with this it felt like a hit to the back of your knees. You could almost feel the hesitation and concern on his face when he knelt down next to you. 

Daryl was never good at comforting people, but seeing you on the verge of tears he was trying his best. Your body stiffened slightly when one of his strong arms wrapped around your back, but you melted into his touch quickly as his rough voice spoke with a softness barely anyone had heard.

“S’alright sweetheart, m’sorry for yellin” Your brain almost couldnt for the words to tell him it wasn't his fault, he had done nothing.

“D, it isn't that” Your voice wavered in the conversation you were starting.

“I really ain't hurt, it's just..” Trailing off your words got caught in your throat, it was almost petrifying. You knew Daryl, you knew he was accepting, that he would do anything for you, but that fear of rejection’s grip was tight on your heart. The confused tone in his voice was evident as he ushered you to go on.

“I wasn't born like you,

like a man”

The words escaped your throat, strangled and painful, shaking at the thought that this could be it, he wouldn't be ok with it, it would be the end of everything you've fought so hard to build together. 

“Oh sweetheart” His voice was softer than you anticipated, his calloused hand holding your face up with a touch gentler than a down pillow. Your teary eyes met his stormy blue ones and you could almost see every emotion, every unsend word, every feeling he held onto behind them. Your faces close, he sounded almost like a whisper.

“That ain't stoppin’ me from loving yeah” You could have died happy right there, tears breaching the border of your eyelashes and flowing down your face, your lips formed into a smile, it was ok, he was ok with it, he's not mad.

Daryl's gaze turned to worry at your sudden crying but your hands not matching his own on your face you lips met. The closest you could have been to your hearts being connected the kiss was soft and passionate and you couldn't have thought of a better outcome.

Fun fact of the post:I just got a super cute hellokitty airpod case (^-^)

Dating Carl Grimes (hcs)

x gn!reader

this boy is so whipped for you, like actually loves you so much

you ask for something? he's gunna go get it. wish it was sunny out?he'll fist fight the clouds for you.

he's protective too, especially after you guys got to Alexandria, with all the other teen taking an interest in you, he always wanted to remind them your taken.

PLEASE PLAY WITH HIS HAIR he loves it, his favorite it when you braid it.

one time you left the small braids in his hair overnight my accident and he woke up with curly hair, you almost died that morning.

you guys are always plotting something together. weather its sneaking out of the walls to go for a picnic or hair dye into the shower heads at the prison, you too are always up to no good.

sorry this is short and not proof read!! ive been struggling with school lately so writings been on the backburner

Daryl Dixon Fluff Alphabet

A/N. Sorry this might be shitty im doin a lot right now but really wanted to post something

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

One of his favorite activities for you to do together is teach you how to hunt. Even though he acts annoyed he loves spending the time with you alone and seeing you succeed.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

His favorite thing about your appearance are you eyes, its the first thing he noticed when you two met and thinks they are prettier than anything. His favorite part of you personality wise is your strength, he admired how much you push forward and strive for things to be better.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Daryl is not great when it comes to comforting people, but he will hold your hands and try to get your breathing patterns back to normal and he'll run his fingers through your hair to calm you down.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

In an ideal world it would be you, him, and dog living in a cabin on the outskirts of a settlement.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Though he can be rather dominant when it comes to matters of safety, I think you tries to support you in your decisions first.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

He would have some trouble forgiving his s/o if they did something pretty shitty, considering how many times he's gotten fucked over and abandoned. But you two never fight, and when you do it's small things you forget within the day.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

THIS MAN IS SO GRATEFULL. like to the point he doesn't think he deserved everything you do for him. Sometimes he has trouble accepting gifts and gestures which can make it seem like he doesn't care, but he truly does and wishes he could do more for you. (he literally does everything already, yk he's gotta love those acts of service)

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

At the begining of your relationship he didn't talk to much about his past or how he got the scars on his back, but he didn't actively keep it from you. As your relationship progressed he told you and it was a huge weight lifted off his shoulders, yall confide basically everything in each other now.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You definitely changed him. It was apparent to everyone in the group how after you two started getting close he started to relax a little. Letting himself enjoy things. You're his light and he brightened up after you two got together.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

I can see him getting jealous easily, because again of how many times people have abandoned him. He tends to hide it and tyr to distance himself from you after getting jealous, thinking you deserve better. Sometime you gotta reel him back into reality and remind him how much he means to you with lots of hugs and words of affirmation.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He's not super experienced, before you any romantic relationships he had where fleeting and shallow. Your first was in the middle of the woods after a walker attack. You had gotten hurt and he was patching you up, it just seemed like the right time to confess, but maybe that was the blood loss talking. After the shock that he felt the same you both leaned in to kiss, only to be knocked into his lips by loosing your balance while trying to sit up. You did kiss again for real after though.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

see above ^

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Marriage isn's a big thing to Daryl, just because he thinks a ring doesn't mean you love someone more or less, but he's not opposed to the idea if you want it. You two don't end up getting official married, but you both wear a necklace with a simple ring around it everywhere you go. (he protects it with his life)

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Simple things like 'sunshine' 'honey' and occasionally 'love'

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He thinks he's slick but oh boy is he down bad. Before he got into a relationship with you almost everyone knew he liked you. He would always pick you up something special from a run and practically never left your side when he could. Carol is still dumb-founded to this day that you didn't know.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

PDA isn't his thing, he prefers to keep the heavy affection between the two of you, but his hand always finds its place in yours or around your waste during the day.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He has a really good memory, like wicked good. He remembers those little details that are through away comments in your conversations, and he tries to keep them in mind when getting things or doing things for you.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Daryl does romantic gestures in his own way, instead of getting you fancy jewelry its wild flowers or a stone he found on one of his runs that reminded him of your eyes. Though words aren't his strong suit he expresses his love to you verbally in more intimate moments, quietly and softly.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He believes you can do anything and wants to help you succeed, like if you need something he's right there and ready to go

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

You and Daryl tend to fall into routine, being eachothers rocks of sorts. But that doesn't mean you guys aren't up for some adventure

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Practically knows you better than you know yourself, he's caring and somehow always knows when somethings wrong with you.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Like I said before your his light, he cherishes your relationship more than he could say.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Yall cook and bake together. If your not great in the kitchen you learn together and if you already are good you help teach him, cherishing every moment even when your brownies have more salt than sugar or when you accidently start a fire.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Loves cuddles but won't admit it. When you hold him he feels safe and goes to you for physical affection when he's upset.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He tries to busy himself with lots of tasks to make the time pass quicker and gets antsy and anxious if your gone to long outside the walls.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He would do anything for what you two have, probably run through a fire covered in gasoline if it meant you two could live a 'happily ever after'.

Packaged Deal

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Content warnings: Fighting, swearing, gunshot wound, death, all that fun stuff

It had always been Daryl and Y/N, they where a pair, a packaged deal. Through the twists and turns of life, through every war, walker and supply run, they found their way back together, and this supply run wasn't any different. The rumbling of his motorcycle's engine and the feeling of your arms around his torso where familiar, wind whipping through your hair as you approached your destination, a run down farm supply store another group had spotted a week back, but hadn't had the time to investigate.

You and Daryl dismounted the vehicle and secured your empty bags to your shoulders, ready to retrieve anything and everything from the confined of the slightly dilated building. You both pulled out your crossbow and knifes respectively and marched towards it.

You where thankful the group before had stumbled across such a hidden gem, it had apparently not been a very populated area before the outbreak because the lack of walkers around the area was prevalent. A fact you where grateful for so either of you wouldn't have to waste any energy.

"y/n"

Daryl's voice graveled quietly as you two stepped into the shop.

"don'cha thinks its weird the bell is gone"

After a questioning look you sent him, he pointed above your heads at the door frame, the place bell to alert employees would usual be, it was gone, not unlike someone had unscrewed the mechanism. You shook off the paranoid thought tho, there could be so many reasons it was gone.

"Yeah"

You began to respond "but the place isn't in the best condition, i wouldn't be surprised if it fell off even before the outbreak" Daryl nodded in silent agreement, but still kept the thought in the back of his mind.

Pacing forward your eyes raked across the walls and floor, finally landing on some bags of seeds of the shelves before tossing them into your pack, finding a home on top of the first aid kid you had packed. You planed to plant them in your garden back in Alexandria. A few more items joined the pile, extra fishing line, a hammer and nails, and even a dark grey hunting knife you snagged from box hidden under dust and dead plants. Continuing down the rows of empty shelves and boxed your foot hit something soft on the group, it was a mattress. A few threadbare blankets laid on top of it that you quickly stuffed into your pack, someone must have camped here at the start of the outbreak, judging by the dust that made you sneeze and you lifted up the fabric.

Just as you passed the last aisle to where Daryl was standing examining a spade, a loud noise approached both of you, it was the sound of a loud car driving closer and closer to the store. Catching Daryls eye you both hid behind a large pile of boxes, holding your knifes and crossbow respectively as the engine of the car sputtered to a stop, though voices quickly filled it.

"Dude i swear when i get in there im gunna pass out"

A man grumbled, seemingly younger by the sound of his voice.

"Yeah yeah ill take first watch, but we gotta clean the place up, its been months we don't know if theres biters or rats or shit in there"

Another voice chimed in, deeper this time.

'So people had been camping out here' You thought to yourself as you made eye contact with the man crouching next to you, a concerned look painted on your face. Shifting anxiously a third voice met your ears. You where outnumbers by the sound of it, and you didn't know if they had more on their way.

You scratched your arm absentmindedly, it was an anxious tick you'd always had. Daryl placed his own hand over your, squeezing it slightly in a reassuring manner, the action spoke words he couldn't say, words that would get you two caught my the quickly approaching group of enemies.

"Do yall hear anything? Like breathin or something?"

You freeze, hand coming up to cover your mouth quickly, not noticing how your breath had become slightly labored in anxiety.

"Could just be a breeze Joe, done be so paranoid"

"mm whatever. The man"

Joe grumbled, resuming what seemed to be kicking a small rock down the aisle. The sound of his boots and the stones impact on the ground echoing closer and closer to you and Daryl's hiding spot, until it came into view. He had kicked it too hard to the right, and now it was sitting just next to your frozen form.

As he bent down to pick it up you took your chance, whipping out your knife and holding it against his throat with a steady hand, causing his body to stiffen and looked between you and daryl with wide eyes.

"move, talk, do anything, ill kill you, understand?"

Your voice was quiet but authoritative, a harsh tone that was rarely heard. Joe nodded his head hesitantly. Just as you where steadying yourself to rise from your crouched position his mouth opened.

"ANDY THERES PEOPLE BACK HE-"

His sentence finished with a gurgling sound as you stuck the knife into his throat. Daryl took out his cross bow and you both rose, gazes meeting determinately, you where getting out of here.

The other men quickly ran towards the source of the noise, and after eyeing their friends dead body the glint of revenge in their eyes was piercing, and for a second it was silent.

A searing pain erupted in your shoulder, the feeling spreading like fire all around you body and you firmly grasped where the feeling resided, trying desperately to stop the sensation. You felt a warm liquid covered your hand just as your other senses came into focus, the sound of fighting, the smell of gunpowder, that motherfucker had shot you.

Forcing your self to steady your hands around the grip of your knife you scanned your surrounding. Daryl was fist fighting a man on the floor, his cross bow thrown feet away by his enemy. Your feet scrambled to get close to him, to help him but a force interrupted you. Tackling you to the ground, one of the men pinning your hand with his knees as he threw punches at you.

Thinking as fast as you could in your slightly delirious state and desperate to escape his grasp, you jammed your knee between his legs.

"YOU FUCKIN BITCH"

Howling in pain and yelling profanities it caused his friend to notice the commotion. Whipping out his gun the man who had been attacking daryl not pointed the weapon at him, then he spoke.

"Now no one else here has to die. You just put down your weapons, give us your bags and leave"

With no other choice, Daryl being held at gunpoint, you slowly laid your knife down and painfully adjusting your still bleeding shoulder, dropped your backpack too.

"Good good"

The man waved the gun at the arched in a gesture for him to remove any weapons or supplies as well. Begrudgingly he did, and the enemy kicked his stuff away to the wall with yours.

"Now I said no one has to die.."

He trailed of slightly, holding his gun casual as the other man behind you finally stood up, blocking you from running.

"Buuuuut, you killed Joe" He now pointed his weapon at you, finger on the trigger.

"So your gunna die anyway"

"NO" Daryl suddenly jumped up just as he was about the squeeze the trigger. The archer grabbed him by the side, pushing him down to the ground just as the shot fired. The ringing noise echoed along with the bloody sounds of someone getting shot in the neck.

Slowly turning behind you, the blood splattered onto your already stained clothes and face. The man who had attached you earlier, dead against the wall. Your eyes quickly traced back to where daryl lay, desperately holding his attacker away, his knife beginning to press into his chest.

"Y/N FUCKING RUN" He yelled and you could here the slight edge of desperateness in his voice, he wanted you to get out alive even if he died. But you and daryl where a pair, a packaged deal, and you weren't going to leave him behind just because he told you to.

"NO!"

Lunging at the man above him you knocked the knife out of his hand, with no weapon in yours and not thinking clearly from blood loss and shock you just hit, blows to his face coming without you even recognizing you where throwing them. You didnt stop until a pair of firm but gentle arms wrapped around you, pulling you back from the dead man.

"Shh sunshine its alrigh', just breath its ok"

His gravely voice came from behind you and your heart rate slowed, the pain was catching up to you and a slight whimper left you mouth. Daryl turned you around and held your body to move you away from the dead ones. Brushing your hair out of your face he comforted you.

"Im here, your here, we're ok"

And you where, even with a bullet wound in your shoulder and both of your faces bruised, you where ok, you where together.

"Are you ok?"

Your voice was weak from the screaming you hadnt realized had left your throat before.

"Your shot and your askin me if Im ok?" His mouth tilted up in the slightest ghost of a smile, removing the ripped part of your shirt to asses the damage.

"Well If worry about you Dixon"

His eyes where soft, cleaning the blood from you wound and covering it will all the bandages he could, knowing you wouldn't be able to get proper help until they got back to Alexandria it was all he could do.

"I worry bout you too dumbass, you could have got yourself killed"

"It was for a good cause, I wasn't leavin' you that easy" And you laughed, it hurt like bitch when the sound it echoed through your shoulder but you didn't mind, and he smiled too, so it was worth it.

Five More Minutes

Daryl x Gn!Reader Drabble

The sun streamed through the shades covering you two from the outside world and illuminated the face of the man next to you. He was still sleeping, but you knew he would be up soon as the sun was just emerging from the horizon. His arm had found you in the night and was now draped across your middle, holding you in the embrace you have found comfort in so many times.

Quiet moments where hard to come by in the apocalypse, so you cherished these few minutes of peace in you and Daryl's shared before starting the day.

The subtle rise and fall of his chest and his closed eyes was the calmest you ever saw him, and you tried to memorize every detail of his face in these minutes before life started up again.

Soon enough the urge to let him sleep was over run by the urge to touch him, and your hand moved from its position next to you and traveled his dark umber locks, pushing a few messy strands away from his face. Daryls nose twitched at the movement and his fingers tightened around your side, almost reassuring himself you where actually there before he blearily opened his eyes. As soon as he did his eyes closed again in a yawn.

"Morning sleeping beauty" You chided.

Daryl grumbled slightly but you could see the ghost of a smile hinting at his lips.

"Mornin'" His gravely voice was quiet, still weighed down by sleep. Arms stretching as he made a move to get up for the day his hand leaves your side and you frowed.

"Can't we just stay in bed a little longer?" You knew you both had jobs and duties to attend to, but you couldn't help yourself from wanting just five more minutes in bed with Daryl. After a second of silence he let his body fall back onto the bed next to you.

"If someone's pissed I's late to the council meeting m' blamin' you" He draped his arm around you again and you gladly cuddled into the comfort of his chest.

"Fair trade"

safe.

pairing: daryl dixon x gn!reader

warnings: none

A/N: a little drabble for you guys while i finish up on a ton of more fics :)

“You’re home,” Daryl’s head snapped up at the sound of your soft sleepy voice. You rubbed your eyes as he walked into the room, your face slightly puffy from your slumber.

“I am, did I wake ya?” Daryl winced at the thought of waking you up, walking over to your blanket covered body. Your eyes were still half lidded and to be honest, you were still half asleep.

Daryl reached down to caress your cheek, his eyes softening at the way your eyes fluttered closed and you nuzzled against his touch.

“No.. just wanted to be up and see you,” you mumbled, letting out a soft sigh as his hand moved from your cheek and into your messy hair.

Daryl huffed in amusement from the way you were basically asleep, “see me? Honey, yer sleepin’.”

Daryl’s amusement further heightened when you mumbled incoherently and struggled to keep your eyes open, “no… no ‘m up.”

“Ya ain’, go on an’ sleep.” He whispered huskily, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. You however decided that wasn't enough and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close to you. Daryl grunted as he shifted his weight, leaning his upper half over you while you shoved his face into your neck. “Wha’ are ya doin’?”

His scratch of his beard coupled with his warm breath against your skin made you giggle slightly, turning your head to plant a cheeky kiss behind his ear. “Want to cuddle,” you mumbled.

“I’ll get to it in a moment, I need ta change. Been out all day,” Daryl grumbled, now conscious of his suffocating layers. He held still in your arms as you refused to let go and huffed out in frustration, bringing a gentle hand up to your waist. “Please baby, ‘m jus’ gonna change real quick and then ‘m all yours.”

His whispered promise warmed your heart and your grip on him loosened, allowing him to slip free from your arms. He looked down at the slight pout on your face, pinching your cheek gently before walking off to change.

Your head lolled to the side as your gaze followed him. The room was dimly lit by your bedside lamp, the warm glow just barely making him visible from the dresser. His back was to you as he shed his clothes, taking his time with the buttons on his shirt. He shrugged his shirt off and threw it into the laundry bin, your eyes running over the scarred skin, wanting nothing more than to run your hands down his back and over his shoulders. He began to unbuckle his belt and you figured it was too intimate, so you turned your head away and closed your eyes.

Soon enough, whatever sounds you were hearing began to dull and you found your brain shutting off into sleep. You felt warm. Warm knowing that you were safe in bed and not fighting for your life outside trying to find a sanction to sleep for the night. You were safe.

Your short-lived sleep was quickly taken from you as the bed dipped next to you. Your head turned towards the offending side, slightly delirious having been up and down for the past 20 minutes.

“Hey, hey, hey. ‘s jus’ me,” Daryl whispered soothingly, slipping under the blanket next to you. You quickly relaxed and closed your eyes again, letting him pull you against him. One of his hands held the back of your head while the other arm wrapped around your middle, your cheek pressed against his bare skin. “Light sleeper, huh?”

He chuckled quietly when he felt you smile, his hand gently stroking your hair. He made a mental note to be even more gentle when doing things around a sleeping you. Daryl moved to lay on his back, pulling you with him so you were half on top of him and you shifted yourself so your head was on his shoulder.

As you felt sleep begin to take over, you mustered up the energy to whisper, “g’night… love you.”

Daryl let out a sigh, the arm around your waist giving you a soft squeeze. “Love ya too, get some rest sweetheart.” You felt him reach over to turn off the lamp, his fingers lightly drumming over your stomach.

You started feeling that same safeness you felt when Daryl was around. Feeling that warmth he gave you not just physically, but emotionally. You enjoyed this feeling and hoped it’d stay forever. Sleep came to you quickly, letting yourself be taken away into a peaceful slumber.