#still. he gives merle a pass hes like ‘’he turned his life around!! prison fixed him!!’’

[starlessea]

Here Comes the Sun: XX. More Than A Feeling (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 6480

Chapter Warnings: Language, Violence, Injury.

Your head pounded like an alarm clock you couldn't shut off. The explosions hadn't done any favours for your tinnitus, either. The high-pitched ringing noise was constant, and only intensified the more you tried not to focus on it. Even now that everything had settled down, it still seemed like you could hear walls crashing around you, or feel the vibrations as the stone crumbled and settled at your feet.

Except, it wasn't brick walls that were sending shock waves over the ground; it was Daryl's footsteps as he paced. You could feel them through your own boots, and sent him a look to try and coax him to sit down. 

"It's a sprained ankle, Daryl. I didn't lose my leg." You said gently, before someone cleared their throat.

You looked down at Hershel, who was in the process of wrapping the bandages, and winced as he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Sorry." You muttered, awkwardly.

Everything had gone mostly to plan. The governor and his men had been driven away, and the others had returned from Woodberry with even more survivors. You hadn't gotten the chance to see them yet, but the ruckus drifted up the stairs and you could feel the marching of the stampede as though they had been part of the army themselves.

The prison remained standing, albeit missing a watchtower and seeming a bit dilapidated in a few places - but your home was once again yours. You'd sacrificed so much for it. Lori, T-Dogg, Axel, Oscar, and Merle had all lost their lives just so that you could sit here now, complaining of flesh-wounds and mild injuries like they were the most perilous problems you could face.

Daryl didn't seem to agree, however, and narrowed his eyes at you - or more specifically, at the bandage wrapped around your head. You'd taken a bit of a fall, but it wasn't like you'd cracked it open. Though, that didn't stop the man from treating you like Humpty Dumpty - trying to fix all of your pieces despite them not actually being broken.

"I don' care!" Daryl yelled, and you felt Hershel flinch as he made another pass with the bandages.

The man slung his crossbow onto the mattress, and you felt the bed dip beside you from the weight of it. His face was all scrunched up into a scowl, and you wanted nothing more than to hold it in your hands and bring his cheek to yours.

"What the hell d'ya try an' pull tha' for?" He asked, but this time his voice had lost its fight. "You could've gotten yerself killed." Daryl said quietly, like it almost killed him to say, too.

The older man stayed silent as he continued to do his job, and you felt guilty for having let him get caught up in this. 

"But I didn't." You reminded Daryl, before shooting a light-hearted smile his way. "Certain victory, remember?"

Your eyes glanced down to his hand, and at the shoddily drawn rune you'd given him with a sharpie earlier in the day. He didn't say anything back, but his pacing had stopped - and he looked straight at you as you spoke.

"And although the governor got away, don't you think he'll be easier to find with a bullet in his shoulder?"

If you had anything to show for your injuries, at least it was that. You offered a teasing smirk to the man - one that probably made him wonder if you had a concussion.

"I think I know a pretty good tracker, too." You joked, nodding in his direction.

Daryl didn't smile back. You watched as the man took a seat next to you on the mattress, and noticed the way his eyes rested on Hershel as he tended to your injuries better than he could have. 

"Ya should've followed the plan." He mumbled, so quietly that you barely caught it.

You let out a sigh, unable to hide your guilt. Daryl had an expression you'd only seen him wear once before, and you didn't like it in the slightest.

"I had a clear shot." You reasoned timidly, like you were trying to convince yourself of your words.

You had done; it was true. Except, you should have taken a moment to consider your actions. You thought that you were in fact the hypocrite - since when the time came, you'd been the one to shoot first, and ask questions later.

"If my aim was a little better we wouldn't even be having this conversation." You told him, and offered a sheepish smile alongside it. "I'm sorry I missed."

Hershel tightened the knot as he finished wrapping your foot. You lifted your leg and outstretched it to examine his work. Tentatively, you wiggled your toes, and thanked the man when you felt no pain in doing so. Daryl sent a nod in his direction too, before turning back.

"I don' give a damn if ya missed." He told you, barely above a whisper.

Hershel ushered himself out of the room as quietly as he could manage, trying not to intrude any longer. As soon as he'd left, Daryl let his head drop onto your shoulder, and you could feel his warm breath over the crook of your neck.

"I only care tha' yer alive." He admitted, mumbling against the skin there. "I can't lose you, too."

You leant back against the man. He seemed so downtrodden, but for the first time since the farm, you felt safe. You remembered that first night after you'd cleared the prison, sitting out in that field around the campfire. You'd asked him then if he thought this could be your home. Now, you decided, it was.

"Have more faith in me, Dixon." You told him, and stroked his hair - letting your nails run along his scalp gently. "I think I must be pretty hard to kill."

Despite the head injury, the events of that morning were as clear as day to you - as clear as the cloudless sky had been when you all took your positions. The strategy had been to ambush them when they came, and you had been the one to dissuade Rick from utilising the watchtowers.

"They'll be their first target." You'd said, and luckily he had listened.

You and Daryl had been checking the guns, before deciding to take one last walk around the perimeter. You'd scouted their vehicles en route to the prison, so you knew it was only a matter of time before all hell would break loose. The day was otherwise serene, and you hoped that once all of this was over you'd get the chance to revel in the sunshine and celebrate your certain victory.

You smiled over at the man, remembering what you'd wanted to tell him. The two of you were checking for breaches in the fences, making sure that the governor's men couldn't infiltrate from anywhere you wouldn't expect. You watched as Daryl pulled on the lattice wire to make sure it was secure, and you slipped your hand into his other, free one. 

He gave you a subtle glance, but didn't make any sarcastic remarks in return. The two of you walked hand-in-hand alongside the fences, as though you were going on a mundane, morning stroll in the sun. It was silent, and you both seemed to just bask in the peace whilst it still lasted. Though, once you had gone full-circle, and had ended up back where you'd started, you stopped in place.

You fished around in your pocket and pulled out the sharpie you'd scavenged from Glenn earlier in the day. Daryl looked at it suspiciously, but let you do as you pleased - just like always. Carol had noted how much of a soft spot the man had for you, and you couldn't even deny it at this point. The two of you had woken up entangled in each other this morning, and it had taken you the better part of half an hour to coax him to let you get up. You could tell he was scared of what the day would bring. Despite claiming to be a man 'not scared of nothing,' you knew that Daryl Dixon was afraid of one thing above all else - and that was losing you. 

"Give me your hand." You instructed, and pulled the cap off the top of the pen with your teeth.

The man eyed the permanent marker, before looking down at your interlocked hands.

"Yer holdin' it." He grumbled, and you rolled his eyes at his dry humour.

"The other one." You clarified, pointing in the direction. "It needs to be on the same side."

You took his hand in yours before he had time to question you further, and pressed the sharpie to it. You drew the simple pattern, watching as the ink bled out slightly over the cracks in his skin.

It was the same rune of Týr that you had tattooed on your hip - the one Daryl claimed 'looked like an arrow.' He stared at it once you'd finished, stretching out his fingers before balling his hand into a fist. Maybe it was a little childish to want to wish him luck in this way, and you thought that Daryl was a man quite capable of victory by himself, but you'd wanted to do it nonetheless.

"Look, we match." You exclaimed with a smile, but the words felt familiar on your tongue.

Daryl must have thought so, too, as you saw some kind of recognition flash behind his eyes. Then, you remembered it. The memory washed over you like a wave coming onto shore. It had been back on the farm, where you lay next to each other on that springy, double bed. He'd had an arrow wound in his side, and your bullet hole matched it nicely. You'd pointed it out to him with a grin, too doped up on medication for your own good. It felt so long ago - back when you'd been more young and naive to the world, and he'd been more angry at it.

"I guess some things never change." You admitted, and you could tell that he understood.

You felt him squeeze your hand, and looked back down at the semi-tattoo you'd drawn haphazardly. 

"An' other things do." He replied.

When the first explosion rang out, your mind immediately thought back to that moment. The front left watchtower had been decimated, just as you had predicted, and the tanks began to roll in through the field. Whilst some of the group were hidden away in the prison interior, waiting to ambush those who came in, you stayed outside with Maggie and Glenn - ready to catch any stragglers who made it back out.

Daryl hadn't wanted you to be in the thick of it, and you could tell why. From the looks of it, the governor's army was partially made of toy soldiers. From your position, you could make out young boys and girls barely through their teenage years, and adults who looked like they had never held a weapon before. You would have found it hard to kill them - even if you needed to.

From your hiding place, however, you couldn't see the governor. The group was too dense, and he was probably lurking somewhere in the middle - just like the coward he was. You stared down the scope of your rifle, trying to get a better view. All around you, you could hear the sounds of crumbling stone, and the flicker of flames as they burned the tower to the ground. There had only been a couple of warning rounds shot at the building, but they'd done more damage than you were comfortable with. You just hoped that Daryl and the others were alright inside. 

The whole thing seemed to last a couple of minutes at most. As quickly as the group had entered the cellblock, they were forced back out in a shroud of smoke and gunfire. Maggie and Glenn had their guns aimed, but it looked to be a clean retreat. The govenor's makeshift suicide army had all turned back, and were fleeing into the forest - so you didn't shoot at them.

That had been the plan anyway, until you caught sight of a familiar eyepatch and the man who wore it. You jumped up from behind the bushes like someone had set them alight, and ran over to the wall for cover. Maggie and Glenn shouted at you, but you continued until you reached it. It was part of the fence you'd reinforced with steel, and you ducked behind it to peer through the gunhole. 

The man was returning back to the tank, mowing down anyone who got in his way. You stared through your rifle scope, finger hovering the trigger. You would have pulled it, but a civilian got in your line of sight at the last second. 

"Shit." You whispered, below your breath, and slung the rifle back over your shoulder.

You hopped the fence and started running, making your way to the blazing watchtower that was set alight like a torch. The base was still steady, and it provided good cover whilst allowing you to move in closer. The calm summer's day had been transformed into a warzone in a matter of minutes. Shouts and gunfire rang out around you as you dashed to the burning building. When you reached it, you quickly ducked down and pressed your back to the stone as you set up your rifle. 

It hasn't been part of the plan; you knew that. Though, you didn't just want to let the man walk free, either. If you weren't the one to do it, it would be someone else - perhaps Rick, or Michonne, or even Daryl. You wanted to pull your weight, especially if it meant that their shoulders wouldn't have to bear the burden of it.

The tower creaked and groaned above your head, and your eyes quickly glanced upwards to catch sight of the flames that licked the sky - creating an amber haze that resembled sunset. You ignored the sound, and locked onto the governor once again. This time, he was clambering into the vehicle, and you knew that it would be your last chance. Your line of sight was clear, and so you let your finger squeeze the trigger - and felt the jolt of the gun as it hit back against your shoulder.

The bullet connected, and you watched the man stagger backwards. He turned to face your direction, and your gazes caught for a split second - like you could see it all unfold in slow motion. Then, you heard a crash, and time resumed as normal.

Glass shattered above your head and fell onto you like jagged raindrops, and the stone debrid came following like lightning after it. The tower shifted, and you watched it crumble for a brief moment before the adrenaline kicked in. You abandoned your rifle and jumped up, starting to run in the opposite direction. Rubble came pouring down and bounced over the concrete at your feet. You felt small pieces nick your legs, but continued to sprint as you heard Maggie and Glenn call your name in the distance. You couldn't outrun the collapse, but you'd managed to dive behind one of the fences just in time to shield yourself.

You'd squeezed your eyes closed as the tower fell, and huddled your knees to your chest to protect yourself. The stone structure made the most almighty crash as it caved to the ground, and suddenly the courtyard was completely shrouded in dust. It wasn't until the smoke cloud had settled and you recognised figures emerging from the fog that you realised you'd made it. 

Your head stung, and you pressed your fingers to your temple only to notice that something had drawn blood there. You must've been struck by some stray piece of rubble, you thought. You were a bit dazed, but you could make out voices clearly as they shouted your name. You recognised one in particular, and your heart sped up in response.

"C'mon, Teach!" Daryl yelled, but you couldn't pin-point where from. 

You tried to call back, but your throat was dry and your voice barely made its way out of your lips.

"Can ya hear me?" He shouted again. "Call out to me if ya can hear me!"

Clearing your throat, you tried again.

"Daryl!" You screamed, and this time it resonated. "I'm here!" 

You noticed a shift in the fog, and figures got clearer as they made their way through it.

"I'm over here!" You yelled again, your voice breaking over the words.

The man came running over to you as soon as he could tell where you were. You'd been hidden behind the sheet of metal, sat amongst a pile of debrid, but he still found you. You could feel the fresh blood trickling down your forehead, but you wiped it away with the back of your hand and sent him a watery smile of pure relief. Daryl took in the sight, and the way your foot seemed to be turned in an awkward angle beneath you - and his eyes widened.

"What did you do?" He asked, rushing over to your side in an instant.

You looked back at him with an equally dumbfounded expression.

"I shot him." You admitted. "I shot the governor." 

After Hershel had left your cell, you and Daryl stayed sitting on the mattress together for a little while. You let him rest his head over your shoulder, which soon turned into lying on your chest as you both slumped back into the pillows. It was a little different from what you were used to, but you held his head and stroked his hair gently. You thought that he needed the comfort, and you were fine with being able to return it for once.

Maggie and Glenn had informed you that they'd seen everything go down - and that you'd actually hit the governor in the shoulder, rather than his chest. It was a bitter disappointment, but they'd reassured you that you'd still done a good job - after they'd given you a scolding, that is. You weren't entirely sure what had possessed you to do it - to abandon the plan. Maybe it was the images of a beaten Glenn and an inconsolable Maggie that you weren't able to rid yourself of, or perhaps it was the nightmares you had of cowering beneath Axel's body. More likely, it was the recent death of Merle, and what it had done to Daryl as a result. Whatever it was, you didn't regret it. The governor had deserved everything that was coming for him, and you'd just happened to be the one to pass the sentence.

Daryl's eyelids seemed heavy, and his breathing had evened out. You knew that if you didn't rouse him now, he'd probably fall asleep within a matter of minutes. It was selfish, but you didn't want that. You wanted to celebrate your victory - no matter how certain it had been.

"I'm sorry, Daryl." You whispered, and gently moved his hair back from his face.

The man inhaled sharply, and you watched his eyes flicker as they adjusted to the light. You let out a soft chuckle, which you were sure he could feel resonate through your chest.

"Can you help me down the stairs?" You asked sweetly, hoping to coax him awake. "I want to meet everyone."

He'd already carried you out of the rubble once today, but you hoped he'd be generous enough to lend you an arm as you hobbled down the metal steps. Daryl sat up and stretched his neck side to side before glancing over at you, his eyes immediately resting over your bandaged forehead to check it was still alright. You offered a smile to reassure him, and eventually the man nodded in return.

"It's gonna get a lot nosier 'round 'ere." He grumbled, but it didn't sound like he really minded.

Daryl had your arm slung over his shoulder as you both attempted the stairs. His other hand was on your waist for support, and he waited patiently as you took each step - going along with your pace. You'd heard the commotion from your cell, but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer amount of people that had been brought back from Woodberry. 

As your foot hit the final step you were greeted by an unexpected round of applause, interspersed with the occasional cheers. You almost stumbled back in shock, but Daryl caught your arm before you could trip.

"There she is!" Glenn yelled over the crowd. "Our suicidal sniper."

You shot Daryl a side-eye glance, but the man just shrugged in response. Your gaze ran over the unfamiliar faces as they smiled, or looked at you curiously, and you suddenly felt inadequate in comparison. You stood leaning against Daryl in your dusty clothes and bandages, and sheepishly lowered your head as they stared. Eventually, Daryl shooed them all away, warning them to 'get out of your face.' 

It made you laugh, and you aimed some teasing remarks in his direction - pestering him if he'd like to become your bodyguard. The chatter buzzed around you like nothing you'd ever heard before. Even in the old world, the atmosphere couldn't compare. You didn't know how long it had been since you'd even laid eyes on so many people at once. You knew that you'd have to clear out some other cell blocks just to make room for them all. This was the start of something; you just knew it.

Someone called your name from amongst the fray, but Daryl didn't stop ushering you over to a nearby seat. You whipped your head around in confusion, but continued to shuffle along until you had the opportunity to sit down. He leant against the table next to you, resembling a diligent guard dog. Daryl was the most loyal man you'd ever met, and everyday he reminded you not to settle for anything less. You wondered how anyone could ever come close to him - past or present. Your ex had been a mere speck of poorly-chosen dust in comparison to Daryl Dixon. 

The man seemed to be able to read your thoughts, as he glanced in your direction with perfect timing - causing you to look away. You heard your name through the thick of the crowd again, and this time tried harder to locate the source. Only a few seconds later, someone emerged from the centre of the room, pushing past everyone so that she could get to you. 

The woman had neat brown hair to her shoulders, and was wearing a sundress that looked like it had been recently pressed. All of the former Woodberry inhabitants looked clean, but she definitely stood out due to how beautiful she was. Her eyes were a warm coffee colour, and her smile was bright as she looked over at you.

You choked on your words, immediately standing up only to stumble into Daryl's shoulder. He quickly got a hand under your arm to steady you, but had a disapproving expression on his face as he did so.

"Vanessa?" You spluttered out, and she gave you an excited nod in return.

Daryl barely had time to step aside before the woman bounded up to you and flung her arms around your neck. She squeezed you so tightly that you forgot how to breathe, but you hugged her back with the same force - clasping your arms around her back.

You were utterly speechless. The last time you'd seen the woman, the two of you were witnessing the complete horror of your camp being destroyed. You'd looked for her in the days following, but she'd seemed to simply disappear into the night. You hadn't even thought she'd made it out alive. She'd been your colleague before all this, and then your campmate. But, most importantly, she'd been your friend.

You stared at her as she pulled away, and she giggled at your dumbfounded expression. Her smile was as pretty as you remembered, and you suddenly felt pale in comparison to her rosy cheeks and honey complexion. She was as quick-witted as ever, and wasted no time in regaining her composure to tease you like you'd never even spent any time apart.

Daryl watched in silence, not wanting to interrupt, but you could tell that he was starting to put the pieces together.

"You were the one who shot him?" She asked, as though in utter shock.

She had her hands on either of your shoulders, and looked you up and down before settling over your one foot that you kept hovering above ground.

"Yeah." You replied sheepishly, and glanced off to the side.

The woman slapped your arm in disbelief, and Daryl shot her a warning look that made you snort. She looked over at the man, too, and raised an eyebrow.

"What on earth happened to you?" She questioned, meeting your eyes this time.

You stared at the floral pattern of her sundress, secretly wishing you had something equally as pretty, and shrugged.

"Well, I hit my forehead and sprained my ankle-" you started, but the woman cut you off.

"I don't mean that." She remarked, with a disapproving tone.

She sounded the same as she did on those days you'd spend your lunch breaks together, or go and get coffee at the local shop - trading gossip and work secrets. She grinned at you mischievously, and it didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

"Where is the timid girl who sang 'Yellow Submarine' to us from her tent every night?"

The man beside you was the one to laugh this time, and you jabbed him with your elbow in response. 

"I really do miss that tent." You mumbled under your breath, and thought you could hear Daryl weakly protest below his.

Vanessa eyed the two of you, and her mouth upturned into a grin you recognised all too well. It was the one she wore when whispering to you about cute baristas, or when sliding her number across the bar. 

"And who's this?" She said, in a tone that was equally as familiar.

She turned to face Daryl, and gave him a quick once-over like she was checking for any visible flaws. You couldn't contain your laugh; she always did lack subtlety.

"This is Daryl." You told her, and slipped your hand into his. "My-" you paused, furrowing your eyebrows as you did, "boyfriend?"

It came out like a question, and Daryl snorted uncharacteristically from beside you.

"'M too old for tha' word." He grumbled, but it was still light-hearted.

You took the opportunity to have some fun, and pressed your chest against his arm as you got closer to his ear.

"What do you want me to say, then?" You asked teasingly. "My partner? Sweetheart?" 

The man seemed completely taken aback to hear you call him anything besides 'Dixon.' 

"My other half? The old ball 'n chain-" you continued, but were abruptly interrupted as he shrugged you off in embarrassment.

"D'you wan' another head injury?" He asked - a little too quickly and a lot too loudly.

Vanessa laughed her usual dainty laugh, and you'd almost forgotten that she was even there. Daryl's cheeks were dusted a light pink, and you knew he would remind you of this later when you were alone.

"You two are good together." The woman spoke, causing you to look over in her direction. "I'm glad you found someone in all of this." 

You gave her a shy smile, before looking down at your feet. You'd never been good with compliments, but she always seemed to have an abundance of them to give.

"After everything you've been through," she went on, this time glancing over at Daryl with a look that could only be described as approval. "You really deserve someone who can make you happy."

Happy. That is what this feeling was. You'd almost forgotten what the word meant, but you were suddenly reminded. Daryl had made you feel a lot of things since you'd met him - first a lot of nerves and sometimes even frustration, but eventually it became comfort and security. However, you realised that all along there were moments of happiness. Even back at the farm, the man never did fail to make you laugh - intentionally or unintentionally. Whether it was his dry sense of humour, or the wise-cracks he'd make in those days where he seemed younger, and more willing to fight the world. 

You looked over at the man like you'd only just come to the most obvious of realisations. Daryl Dixon made you happy - like nothing else had before.

As the night started to settle down, the atmosphere fizzled away along with it. Everyone had taken to their temporary sleeping arrangements, and you could tell that Daryl was holding back his yawns as he helped you clamber over the people left chatting on the floor. The day felt like it had gone on for a week, and you couldn't wait to just sink into bed and let your bandaged head meet the pillows.

Across the block, you spotted Rick talking to some of the new residents, and urged Daryl to return to the cell ahead of you. The man glanced down at your foot and then back up to your eyes, as though needing to state the obvious. You shook your head, telling him that you'd get Rick to help you up the stairs once you were done. You just wanted to talk to the officer briefly, and didn't want to keep Daryl up any longer than he needed to be.

He didn't seem entirely convinced, but he left you propped up against the wall where you instructed him to. His stubbornness had definitely rubbed off on you, you'd realised, and he could hardly attempt to fight against it.

"Deputy Grimes!" You called, once Daryl was out of ear-shot. "Get over here for a second."

The man looked up from his conversation, and you watched him excuse himself before making his way over. He looked equally as exhausted as the rest of you, and stepped heavily over the stone floor. Still, he gave you a small smile as he approached, and squeezed your shoulder.

"You did good today." He drawled, praising you for the second time tonight.

You rolled your eyes and slapped his chest with the back of your hand. 

"Don't let Daryl hear you say that." You warned, with a teasing look. "I could have died, remember?"

You'd said the words in Daryl's Southern accent, impersonating the man the best you could. Rick laughed in response, and you quickly glanced over your shoulder just to double-check that the archer wasn't still looming there.

"Never knew him to be so uptight." The officer replied, and you shrugged.

"He just needs a good night’s sleep." You explained, glancing over at the staircase leading to the second floor. "I think we all do."

Rick especially seemed like he was dead on his feet, but he held it together well. You couldn't imagine the pressure he felt having to keep everyone safe during times like these. You wanted to ease that burden a little, or even just throw some distractions in the mix to make him forget about it.

"Anyway, I heard that Glenn found a camera at Woodberry." You started, watching as he raised an eyebrow at you.

A few hours ago you'd hijacked it, and briefly kidnapped the Grimes children for that photoshoot you'd been threatening. The polaroid had turned out even better than you'd hoped - and you had almost been tempted to keep it for yourself.

You pulled the picture from your pocket, careful not to bend it, and passed it to the man. His eyes squinted as he looked at it, flat atop his palm. Both Carl and Judy were sporting their sheriff's hats, and the older Grimes had his sister perched on his lap.

"Thank you for everything you've done for us, Rick." You told him, and watched as he brought the picture closer to his face. "I'll never forget how you were always there for me."

It was rare that you ever saw the man speechless, but in that moment you were sure you saw a glimpse of the same Rick Grimes you'd first encountered back at the farm - that officer friendly who would give anything for his family.

He shook his head wordlessly, before tucking the picture into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"You don't give yourself enough credit." He said quietly, before slinging one of your arms around his neck. "And I don't think you ever will."

You returned to your cell soon after that, bidding the officer goodnight at the door. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before reminding you to change your bandages in the morning. You laughed in response, wondering why all the men around you treated you like glass.

The room was quiet as you ducked under the sheet hanging at the doorway, and you shuffled inside. Daryl had lit the small lamp on the table, and it cast a warm, golden glow over him where he lay. He had his eyes closed, but you noticed he had your headphones on - connected to the walkman that was left at the edge of the mattress.

You could hear the faint din of the music as some sound escaped, and slowly made your way over to the bed - not wanting to startle the man. He was still fully dressed, and had his arms tucked under his head as he lay on his back. You didn't think he was asleep; rather, he seemed to be waiting for you.

You knelt down onto the mattress, feeling it dip beneath your weight as you crawled up beside him. He didn't react, so you pulled one side of the headphones from his ear, and brought your lips close to it.

"Boo." You whispered, and blew hot air there to make him shiver.

This time he cracked an eye open, and pulled you down beside him gently. He continued to be mindful of your head, and plumped a pillow up for you to lay on. He then removed the headphones, and twisted the ends of them so that the speaker parts were facing outwards. 

You chuckled at the action, suddenly thinking back on your childhood where you'd share a pair with your friends. Daryl placed them in the space between the two of you, so that you could both listen to the songs together. You heard something by The Beatles play muffled, and closed your eyes to take in the melody.

The two of you talked briefly, and sleepily, for a bit. Daryl grumbled about you using him as a makeshift crutch for the majority of the night, and you just hummed in response. You caught him glancing over at you every now and then, but he made no attempt to pull you closer like he usually would have. You knew it was because of your head; he didn't even have to tell you.

"Hershel said it might leave a small scar." You told him, like it was a secret you felt needed to be disclosed.

You didn't really mind all that much, but you knew Daryl had a tendency to look at you guilt-stricken whenever he saw you injured. You just wanted to warn him - just in case.

"Like Harry Potter or some shit?" The man mumbled, and you rolled your eyes.

"Maybe." You replied.

The chatter downstairs had settled, and all that remained was the tinny sound of the music that quietly played near your ear. You swallowed thickly, staring up at the ceiling to see the uneven cracks that marred it.

"Will you still love me if I have a gawdy scar over my forehead?" You asked teasingly - but a part of you felt nervous to hear the response.

Then, your eyes widened as you realised your choice of words. You sat up, immediately feeling the blood rush to your head as you did so.

"Wait-" you stuttered, noticing the man's expression. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

He cut you off before you could finish.

"I will."

You blinked, but he pulled you back down to him - this time letting you lay your head gently over his chest.

"Know I ain't said it before, but-" he paused, "I love ya." 

His heartbeat pounded quickly against your cheek, as though proving his words.

"I love ya so goddamn much, so don't ever pull that shit on me again."

You felt tears start to well up in your eyes, and hoped he couldn't feel them dampen his shirt.

"I love ya - you crazy woman who shot the governor an' took a bullet for me."

You swallowed thickly, trying to hide the wateriness of your voice as you responded.

"I love you too, Dixon." You admitted, wondering why you hadn't done so before.

You'd loved the man almost as long as you could remember; but it was one thing to love, and another thing to be loved in return.

"I won't let anything on this earth take me away from you." You mumbled against him. "You don't have to worry about that."

Daryl breathed in deeply, and you moved along with the rise and fall of his chest. This is what happiness felt like, you decided. Happiness wasn't as perfect as you had once thought it to be - back in the old world. It wasn't that amazing job, or the hard-earned paycheck, nor was it the men who called you pretty whilst giving you an ugly stare. Happiness for you was now walking around the perimeter of a dingy prison, hand-in-hand, as you stared up at the morning sun preparing for a fight. Happiness was those nights you'd stay awake, listening to the laughs down the hall of Maggie and Glenn as they whispered about their future together, and noticing that Daryl was eavesdropping, too. Most importantly, happiness was the man who you woke up next to, and the sound of his voice as he told you 'good morning.'

You looked down at his hand, resting on his chest, and saw the ink there that had smudged throughout the day. The walkman finished its tune, and there was a brief, few-second silence before it skipped to the next one. A familiar melody rang out, and Daryl placed a careful kiss over your hair.

"I like this song." He whispered against you, and you nodded in return.

"Yeah, me too."

A/N It took 20 chapters, 120k words, but they finally exchanged their ‘I love you’s.’ I think it was obvious that they already loved each other before this, but hearing them say it out loud just- 

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[grimessbitch]

Trauma - Father figure! Daryl x reader

//Drabble//

Warnings: talks and sign of passed abuse, no hate to Carol or Negan or Daryl they’re badass characters and I love them I just gotta have em bad, Daryl is a dickhead.

A/n: in this it’s a different ending? Rick doesnt ‘die’, they kill Negan and Carl doesn’t die, and that’s about it.

You and Daryl had always been close, very close if you asked Rick and he was grateful he found someone that you connected so well with to be your father. Only Rick knew about how your biological dad treated you especially whenever Negan took you and him to a bridge but it was only time before he told Daryl then Michonne. You understood what happened whenever you were younger and occasionally some days would be worse than others with it. You latched you Daryl because you remembered him from his time being a prisoner at the Sanctuary, everything was smooth until Daryl was interested in Carol and pushed you almost out of the picture, Rick always gave you the option to leave and go back to the remainder of the sanctuary that Dwight ran partnered with a few old Alexandrians but you never chose to because you hated remembering your dad, even dead he still haunted you.

You stumbled through the woods next to Daryl, you told everybody goodbye except for Daryl which was most definitely going to be the hardest part of leaving, he did raise you for almost ten years now leaving you at the ripe age of sixteen. “So...I’m leaving for the sanctuary with Michonne tonight..” you admitted not looking at Daryl as you continued to walk even after he stopped. “Hey! Stop!” He yelled looking at you, slowly turning around you looked at him and tried your best to stand your ground “why the hell are you going back!?” He yelled his temper slowly rising “d-Daryl..I’m not a kid anymore and I’m ready to fix what my dad did...and you need to move on with bigger things, like Carol” you smiled softly your voice cracking “no! You don’t get to just leave like that! No god Damnit you’re staying!” He screamed walking closer “we need this!” You yelled biting your lip feeling the first tear hit your cheek; you screamed and fell to the damp muddy ground holding your head as Daryl raised his hand out of anger, not realizing his mistake he growled “go then! Go! And never fucking come back! I-I don’t want to ever fucking see you!” Every chant leaving his lips felt like a stabbing pain in your chest “all you’re going to do is disappoint them all over again! You’re a kid!” He yelled, once he turned around and stormed off you left for your travel, so much for grabbing the rest of your things.

You wouldn’t get to the sanctuary for three more days, and whenever you’d get there you’d be sick, horribly sick, while you’re walk a blizzard had hit and almost killed you and every alive thing around you. Unknown to you a certain archer was panicking with stress searching every bit of the woods for you or worse..your corpse. Dwight slowly came into your room sitting on the bed next to you holding out a comic book “Michonne brought it over..said Carl wanted you to have it..” he whispered pushing the hair out of your face laying the book next to you. You were still weak and tired but the color had came back to your eyes letting you look a lot more alive and well, you also gained the weight you lost while trying to fight for your life against the cold weather. “She’s coming by today..gonna drop off some things..Daryl has been trying to force information out of us about where you are on the walkie-talkie..” he whispered “I don’t wanna talk to him...” you whispered turning away from both of them messing with your sleep pants.

You’d refuse to talk to Daryl for another two days, leaving the time you were gone to be about four almost five days, and whenever you finally did, you wished you would’ve just forgot about him, Rick’s words still repeated in your head “he left for New Mexico three days ago” you walked through Alexandria quietly hugging Carl and Judith whenever they walked up to check up on you “how are you..about your dad leaving you?..” Carl asked you as you both walked around the streets “I’m fine” you whispered shrugging “I told him it was best if..- we had a..- I don’t know what you’d call it..he was like my dad and I thought the best thing for me was to leave and fix my dad’s wrong doings...and he respected that and left..I just wish he would’ve stayed longer...” you whispered messing with you hands “I never got a chance to get better and talk to him..” you said kicking a small pebble with your foot “if he came back what would you do..?” He askee as you turned around the corner again “I dunno...I’m really not sure..” you mumbled nervously, outside was a decent day, the snow was almost melting and it smelt like fresh clean air, something you hadn’t smelt for awhile.

“So why don’t you like Carol?..” he asked shifting Judith from his left to right hip “I dunno...ever since I started staying with Daryl and he started to raise me I could never remember her actually talking or giving me any nice stares, just glares and grumbles. “So she’s...jealous?..” he asked tilting his head looking at you “thats the thing...whenever we fell into that cave because she ran off...she tried to blow it up while I was still inside...if Daryl would’ve chased after Carol instead of actually looking for me I probably would’ve became a walker snack” you giggled as you turned another corner freezing, the gate was closing and Daryl was standing there proudly with Carol, there was something different about this, as you got closer you saw it, a makeshift ring sitting on her finger and his arm sat around her waist, so while you were lost in a blizzard he was getting engaged.

Carl tried to stop you as you stormed up but there was no stopping the giant scene about to break out. “Y/n?” Daryl asked looking at you in shock “a year..you looked for Carol for a fucking year! You looked for Sophia for months!” You screamed your voice cracking as you punched Daryl’s jaw as hard as you could sending him falling to the ground. “You looked for my dad’s dead body so I would’nt see his corpse for three months...and you didn’t even look for me a week...what did I do wrong?...” you whispered ending your rant by Rick helping you up off of Daryl, allowing the man to get up and put a bandana on his now bloody nose. “Y/n..it’s not like that and you kn-“ you cut him off by glaring “end to top it off...whenever I thought you left to clear your mind like you did whenever merle died...or whenever Carol left you for the third time but turns out...you were getting hitched in New Mexico” you growled stepping closer “I’m hurt. And I’m gonna make sure you know it” you whispered turning around walking back to Dwight who was closing up a trade with Michonne.

You would return on your seventeenth birthday, you’d return to follow through with your promise, sadly you turned into exactly what Rick believed you wouldn’t, your father. You stared at the Alexandrans kneeling in front of you but you watched a certain man. “Y/n stop this. Right now. Stop acting like a god damn child!” Daryl yelled clearly thinking you could stop him while Rick cried loudly, Michonne next to him silently crying, both of them knowing one or more were going to die. Carl watched him the far right of the line up, Four year old Judith next to him kneeling whining about her knees. “Take them away. Put them in the truck..they don’t need to see this” you said to Dwight nodding towards Judith and Carl, taking a deep breath you looked at Daryl, your goal was to break him, not for leaving you or leaving with Carol of all people, but for blaming you for your dad’s actions your entire life, and for the first few years of your time with Daryl he made sure you knew how horrible your dad was. “You pissin your pants yet?” She smirked stepping back looking down the line looking at the people you grew up with. Michonne, Rick, Daryl, Carol, Eugene, Ezekiel, Jesus, Tara, and Aaron. “Go. Everybody but him go home...you don’t deserve this” you mumbled in defeat letting Lucille drop to the ground.

Watching as everybody rose to their feet and quickly ran towards Alexandria you rethought what you were doing, was this okay? Should you just back down? No. You needed to get your revenge for everything. “You...you made me feel hated...then loved then it’s like..you just got tired of raising me and quit..especially whenever Carol came along” you whispered glaring at him, as the time passed with you glaring at Daryl waiting for him to apologize more rage grew in the pit of your stomach. The apologize never came only words that encouraged your motives more “you’ve gone fucking crazy, kid.” Hed say to you before spitting his blood right next to your boot, you grabbed Lucille tighter before swinging the baseball bat watching as Daryl’s blood landed on the gravel, you repeatedly swung the bat until you fell to the ground sobbing

#dad! daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon #twd #angst

[the-daily-multi-fandom-post]

Part two to this request (—here—)

“Can you write a story where the reader had a one night stand with Merle and got pregnant at the Atlanta camp, she didn't tell anyone because even though Merle wasn't a dick when it came to her, she was scared of the others' reactions. When you're at the farm with the group Shane notices your stomach showing and he calls you out on your secret. Daryl takes you under his wing and treats you like a sister. And Merle's reaction at prison b4 he dies. Maybe Y/n falls in love with Tara later on? Love u”

This is part two for this request. Link here

👉______👈 For the first part.

Request: anom.

Tags: @thanossexual

Y/an heart broke seeing the love of her life as one of those monsters. The little baby she had with Merle was in her arms when she and Dayrl found Merle eating someone it broke both of their hearts. Y/n was sobbing catching the attention of walker Merle. Dayrl was sobbing too, watching as his undead brother started limping towards them.

Dayrl pushed Merle backwards away from Y/n and her baby. Merle kept coming back until Dayrl stabbed Merle making him fall onto the grass. Dayrl continuously stabbed Merle over and over and over again. Sobbing he fell backwards. Y/n ran over to Dayrl pulling him into his arms. Her baby still on her side, sleeping soundly as she hugged the man she thought as a brother.

“He’s gone.” Dayrl sobbed into her shoulder. Y/n nodded, kissing his forehead.

“I know,” she whispered. Looking over Dayrls shaking body to where the love of her life laid dead.

“I know.” She shakily spoke as tears silently slid down her Y/s/t face.

—Months later—

The morning after the storm , all is peaceful. Maggie wakes up to see Daryl still awake. She sits by his side and talks with him, telling him he should get some sleep, and that it's okay to rest now.

Y/n sat with her back against a bail of hay, she rocking her Y/e/c eyed son, trying to keep him asleep. She softly hummed rocking Mason in one arm. Her other arm was draped over Carl protectively like a mother. Judith was asleep soundly in a blanket filled box. Just beside Y/n so she could take care of the small child, while Carl could get some sleep.

Maggie and Dayrl looked over at Sasha across the room asleep. "He was tough," Daryl remarks, referring to Tyreese. Maggie nodded in agreement, looking over at the sleeping woman. "So was she," Daryl adds, talking about Beth. "She didn't know it... but she was." Daryl hands Maggie the music box Carl gave to her. “I fixed it.” He spoke gruffly. Maggie smile as she took it. “Thank you.”

She then wakes Sasha and the two leave the barn. Looking around the barn they see the storm had killed most of the walkers or decapitated them, impaled or crushed by the trees

“I’m surprise the barn hadn’t fell down. It looks like a tornado has been through here.” Sasha says as she and Maggie made their way through the fallen trees to an open field.

Maggie and Sasha then sit down on a downed tree and watch the sunrise together. As they sit, Sasha tells Maggie what Noah said about himself, that he doesn't know if he can make it. Sasha admits that she feels the same way too. Maggie reassures her that she will survive. Maggie tries to play the music box, but finds that the box is still broken.

The two laugh, but their conversation was cut short by a young man, cautiously walking up to the two.

“My names Aaron, I came to speak to your leader Rick.” The man

The women are confused as they draw their guns and ask how he knows about Rick.

“I have good news!” He starts holding his hands up, showing the two women they could trust him.

Maggie and Sasha brought Aaron to the barn where the rest of the group was resting. Rick and the others appear to be wary over Aaron's arrival.

Maggie gives Rick Aaron's gun, which Rick keeps as he asks Aaron what his intentions are.

“How did you know we were here?” Rick looks at the young man. “I’ve been watching you all for a while. I needed to make sure you guys weren’t gonna kill me as soon as you saw me. But I was the one to give you guys the supplies yesterday.” Aaron informs the group.

Rick chooses not to believe him, and convinces the group that Aaron has another agenda. Aaron, knowing that he would believe so, asks Sasha to give Rick his backpack, directing him to a small set of photographs of his community which he had taken as evidence of its existence. As Aaron explains what his community is about and emphasizes on its security, Rick punches him in the face, knocking him out. Y/n shook her head looking at the unconscious man.

“He could be dangerous.” Rick said looking at Y/n with kind eyes. Y/n nodded as she hugged her young son close to her chest. “I trust you.” She whispered giving him an nod. He nodded pulling her into a brotherly hug, careful not to hurt the baby in her arms.

Tara look over at Y/n giving her a soft smile. Y/n smiled back as she pulled away from Rick. “You should get to know Tara, I see it in y’alls eyes. You have some type of connection.” Rick whispered into her ear. Y/n shook her head as she looked at Rick.

Before she could say anything Rick stopped her. “I know it’s been only a few months since Merle passed, but you should be happy. And before you say anything. I know your happy with little mason here, but still you should have someone there for you.” Y/n huffed knowing Rick was correct.

“I hate it when your right.” She said looking down at her Y/e/c baby. “I know, that’s why you don’t like me. ‘Cause I’m always right.” Y/n snorted a laugh looking up at Rick. “That’s funny.”

“Alright, you three,” Rick starts pointing at a few of people of the group. “Go out keep watch. Make sure nobody’s watching us.” A few of them nodded but Michonne shook her head.

“I don’t think Aaron’s a threat. I mean look at him.” Michonne tries to convince Rick.

“I don’t care, we still aren’t trusting him. Rick insisted.

“There aren’t many places for anyone to hide.” Glenn informs Rick, causing more panic within the group. As Aaron regains consciousness, he maintains a positive attitude, jokingly complimenting Rick's strength. Rick shoots back saying that they cannot trust someone who is still laughing after being beaten.

“How many people are in you group?” Rock asked bearing his flare gun as evidence of company.

“It don’t matter how many, it won’t affect whether or not you’ll trust me.”

Rick insists he confesses anyway, and Aaron informs him that there is only one. Aaron also reveals that he and his accomplice have vehicles that they had attempted to bring closer to the barn, but had been blocked by the surrounding trees.

Michonne tells Rick that she wants to know the truth by checking it out. Rick turns down the task saying that it is a bad idea, but after Maggie and Glenn speak up in favor, Rick decides to let everyone except him, baby Judith Y/n and her baby to go scout ahead, ordering Abraham and Rosita to go with Glenn, Maggie, and Michonne and the rest of the group to search the surrounding area.

As the groups leave, Aaron tells Rick that he used to be pointed at with guns before the apocalypse, due to his job as an NGO worker, and that he believes he and his people are good. Rick instead warns Aaron that if his people do not return in one hour, he would put a knife in the base of his skull.

Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, Rosita and Abraham are still walking towards their destination. Glenn warns the others to shoot whoever comes out from the woods, should the time come.

Michonne, horrified by Glenn's orders, voices her opinion. Glenn replies saying that people should not come to the people who have guns like them. Disagreeing, Michonne says that Aaron's community are not bad people, reminding him of how they rescued Gabriel, of how they saved Tara after her involvement with The Governor, and of how they saved a crazy woman with a sword, implying herself.

Glenn reluctantly agrees. They reach the specified location, finding a car and an RV, and realize that Aaron was telling the truth. A pair of walkers come out from the woods, one almost biting Abraham before Rosita intervenes. Abraham thanks her but is ignored.

In the barn, baby Judith starts crying, while Rick crushes acorns for her to eat.

“Why don’t you just let me feed her?” Y/n asks, talking about breast feeding Judith as she helps crush the acorns.

“You need that for Mason, it’s okay.” Rick says quietly.

“Her crying’s going to attract walkers.” Aaron reminds the two from his spot. tied to the barn's support.

“Look, just take the applesauce from my bag. I promise it’s safe to eat.” . Aaron insists.

Still cautious of Aaron's intentions, Rick extracts a spoonful of the apple sauce from the supplied jar and offers it to Aaron, telling him to eat it first as a precaution.

Aaron, realizing what he is doing and taking offense from it, refuses, saying that poisoning his baby would be the last thing he would have ever done.

Rick, however, insists, even after Aaron informs him that he dislikes apple sauce. Against his wishes, he consumes it. After realizing it is safe, Rick rushes back and shares the sauce with Judith. Rick reminds Aaron that he has 43 minutes left.

“Thank you.” Y/n mouthed to the man tied to the barn support. He nodded softly with a smile while Y/n walked over to the corner of the room. A soft little whine caught his attention. Looking over he seen Y/n picking up a baby, who seemed to be around 5 maybe six months old. He noticed Y/n was about to feed her baby and redirected his eyes elsewhere.

“How did you know he needed to be fed before he cried?” Aaron asked Y/n as she covered herself so she wasn’t exposed.

“A mother’s instinct I guess.” She answered honestly. “Are you the mom to them both?” Aaron asked, looking at the Y/h/c haired woman.

“No, just him.” She answered nodding down to her son she was breast feeding.

Aaron nodded noticing Rick wasn’t looking very happy at the mention of his daughter not having a mom.

“But I like to think I’m a momma to the both of them.” Y/n says softly. “I may not be biologically, but I take care of these kids like they are mine.” She says talking about Carl and Judith not just her and merles son, Mason.

Months after being in Alexandria:

Y/n stood in front of the gray crib. Watching as her son slept soundly. It had became such a habit of watching her son sleep. She could barely leave him in the crib for five minutes. She always had to be near him, no matter what.

Y/n heard a knock on the door and hummed softly as she left her sleeping sons room and went to answer the door.

Opening the door she seen Tara who seemed to be a little nervous.

“Tara, why are you knocking? You leave here too.” Tara nodded nervously as she looked into Y/ns beautiful y/e/c eyes.

“I know, but I was just trying to see if you were home, and I didn’t want to rush in their and wake the baby.” She answered, almost too quickly.

“Oh, well, did you need anything?” Y/n asked opening the door wider for Tara to come in. Tara smile walking into the door and to the kitchen where she had smelt the warm black coffee.

“I never would’ve thought I would have coffee ever again.” Tara rambled, not getting to the point of her being in the house instead of being on a run like Y/n had thought.

“Well, Thank God for the people here. If it wasn’t for them we wouldn’t have the hot running water, clean clothes, shelter and food.”

Tara nodded as she took a sip of the coffee.

“I didn’t come in here for coffee though. I Umm... I came in here to tell you something.” She started, grabbing Y/ns hands into her own.

“I like you Y/n. Like, like you, like you. I think I’m in love with you. Seeing you with Mason, makes me feel like I want that, but with you. I see you and I see the person I want a future with. The woman I have grown to love. The woman who is strong and powerful. The woman who protects her children.” Tara confessed her love for Y/n.

Y/n smiled looking at Tara. “I love you too. I have for a whole now, but I just thought it was too soon from Merles death. But I talk to Dayrl and Rick about it. I think I’m ready. I want to be with you.” Y/n said looking into Taras soft brown eyes and then to her soft plump pink lips.

Tara leaned in slowly placing a soft kiss on Y/ns lips. And that was the beginning of their story.

#the walking dead tara x reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead rick grimes #the walking dead carl grimes #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead fanfiction #reader insert #request asked and answered

[of-storms-and-sadness]

Of Storms And Sadness 3

There was a girl once in Daryl Dixon’s life. She was his almost, but as life is, it teared her away from him long before she could become more than that. Years later, in the midst of all the chaos of the dead world, Mae Peterson walks right back into Daryl’s life, when he needs her most. Problem is, Mae is now one of Negan’s wives.

Though the girl never faltered in renouncing the life of comfort and safety beside Negan, risking her own life in order to give Daryl his freedom back, will that be enough to bring the two back together?

**

Pairing: none so far (Daryl x OC eventually)

Warnings: Language (Mae does slightly overuse the word fuck and she tends to get quite creative with her insults ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ), Merle? :D

Words: 1863

Chapters: 3/?

Notes: So, we left Mae at the Sanctuary last chapter. Let’s see what happens next :)

**

Adapting to the life at the Sanctuary came surprisingly easy to Mae. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and Negan's offer of becoming one of his wives with a guarantee no one will ever dare to touch her again, was just a cherry on top of a fucking cupcake. When the man said no one, Mae made sure that included him too, before sealing the deal with a yes.

And it was a good deal, with Negan (as well as any other man) staying away from Mae's bed, while she kept her nose out of his business in return. 

They would talk, from time to time, engaging into fiery discussions that would sometimes last long into the night, and as time passed, Mae learned to enjoy his company. As time passed, Mae grew fond of the man, somehow finding ways to push all the bad things she knew he did aside, focusing her affection to the man he was when he was with her. It felt like learning to love him selectively, never quite managed to do it completely. He kept pushing her boundaries, though, and there were days when she felt like cracking.

 But other than that, life was good (maybe a little lonely, but Mae was used to lonely), it honestly was, and it was soon to become even better. But experience taught Mae well, and she knew that there's always a storm after the loveliest of days. 

Seated on the bench in the front yard, minding her own business while sinking in the warmth of the afternoon sun, Mae was caught by surprise when Dwight - one of Negan's minions - came to fetch her, saying the boss needed her. Eyebrows raised, she pulled up to her feet, and followed the man, no questions asked. She paused shortly once they reached Negan's room, automatically reaching to fix her hair before she knocked. Door swung open, revealing a man seated in the chair near the desk, but Negan's figure blocking her view. 

"Everything okay? she asked her husband, smiling warmly as he nodded. 

"I've got a guy here, says he saw you in the frontyard. Claims to know you. Just wanted to check in with my wifey, to see if it's okay to take him in. The last guy that knew you didn't end up very well, so..."

"Oh...okay. Who is it?" Mae asked, stretching to stand on her fingertips, trying to catch sight of the man waiting inside. The man stood up, turning towards the door, but all she could see were his damn legs. Amused by her curiosity, Negan held his place for a moment longer, before he finally moved, Mae's face instantly turning jubilant, as she rushed towards the man, pulling him into a warm embrace. "You're fucking immortal, Dixon, aren't ya?" she mumbled, hands still locked around his neck. Merle himself was caught off guard by this sudden outburst of affection, never expecting such a thing from little Mae Peterson, but the world changed, and with the world, change caught onto both Mae and Merle.

"Gotta find someone else to crap on now, don't ya, lil' birdie? 'cause ol’ Merle here seems to have grown on ya, huh?" he mumbled to her ear before pulling back and out of her grip, 'causing her to fist-bump his shoulder with a chuckle, mumbling softly - "Shut up, asshole." Her eyes then sunk down to Merle’s hand, instinctively checking on it, eyebrow quirking up in amusement, as she stared at the knife fixed to his hand, then reaching for it, examining it closely.

“Wow,” she exclaimed, “where’d you get this upgrade from? It’s pretty handy.”

“Yeah, pun me all ya want. Is quite handy for real’s. Long story, will tell ya about it.”

“Means you’re stayin’?” Mae asked Merle first, before turning to Negan, once she realized she was asking the wrong person – “He can stay, right?”

Negan watched this little interaction with amusement, the playful banter between the two making it clear they were close, but not the dangerous kind of closeness. So he nodded, Mae’s wide grin making him cackle lowly, shaking his head.

And just like that, Merle stayed, soon becoming one of Negan's top lieutenants. It was good having him around, somehow making Mae feel even safer than before. Not that she didn't trust Negan, but unpredictable as his anger was, one could never know. But with Merle around, she knew there was someone to turn to, if and when shit hits the fan. His company was very welcome too, for before his arrival, Mae hardly talked to anyone except Negan, or Dwight on rare occasions. She would chat with other wives, but that was hardly enough to call the other women friends, and the workers, they never mingled around with the wives.

It was a rather lonely life before Merle, and their early morning small talks, with coffee and a smoke on a secluded bench in the front yard, soon became the best part of her days.  

That is, until one of those mornings Merle approached her, clearly thrown off balance, bearing news that was about to turn both their life’s upside-down. "It's Daryl." he spoke, as soon as he reached the bench.

"What about Daryl, Merle?" Mae asked, eyes open wide. It's been so long since she last heard his name spoken out loud, though she was always pretty sure that Merle never stopped following his trail. He never said it, waved it off even if she’d asked, but all that time Mae spent on the road with him – she’d be stupid not to notice he was looking for something, someone. And what or who else would Merle Dixon be looking for, other than his brother? She knew he’d found him, when he was alone out there. He made it sound like it was by pure accident, but Mae knew he never stopped looking. But they got separated again. Oh, how she wished they hadn’t, how she wished it was both of them in Negan’s room that day. But if they were, what? Not like it would matter, she was Negan’s wife now anyway. And there were way too many questions she was missing answers to regarding Daryl, but it didn’t matter. Nothing did – the fact he never came after her, the fact he never called, or that she’s married now – it didn’t matter. He was alive, and it was the only thing that held any importance.  

"The prisoner, Peterson.” Merle’s voice pulled her back from her head. “The prisoner everyone's buzzing about. It's m’ fuckin’ brother."

 Mae had heard the rumors about said prisoner, she heard whispers of events that took place a couple of days prior, but Mae kept her nose out of Negan's business, that being the only way she could think of not to hate the man for his violent ways. It was hardly a good method, making her feel like shit most days for closing her eyes shut to things she didn't approve, but what else could she do? But now, this... 

She whimpered as Merle nudged her ribs, her blank-stare state turning into one of million questions unanswered. "Have you tried..."

"Damn sure I tried talking to him, girl." Merle cut her question short. "Wanna know what he told me? He told me there’d be no exceptions. Told me I picked my side, and he picked his. Told me he'll stay locked up until he either gives in or fuckin’ dies. But he keeps refusin’ to give in, doll. Damn fucker keeps refusin’. Negan killed his friends and whatnot, smashed that little chinaman’s head with the bat. He even tried to escape, the idiot..."

"Fuck, Merle." Mae exclaimed, hand covering her mouth, eyes circling around nervously, watching out for nosy ears and eyes. "I'm gonna go talk to Negan, and if shit doesn't work out, we'll figure it out ourselves. Okay? Meet me here at sundown, yes?"

Merle nodded, and Mae shot him an anxious smile, as he gripped her hand, giving her an encouraging squeeze. She never saw Merle Dixon this worried, and though she’d always known he cared for his brother, it was when she realized just how much.

So did she, and she knew that together they'll get Daryl out, or die trying. 

 *

Mae's knees felt wobbly as she made her way down the hallways of the Sanctuary, hands slightly shaky, knocking on Negan's door and turning the knob. Deep inside, she knew what his answer to her plead will be, but she had to give him the benefit of the doubt, hoping still that he might surprise her. "Negan," she greeted, continuing right after, "Merle says you..." 

"No." The man simply said, not bothering to hear her out, or even look at her. 

"But Negan, - "

"Listen, if he was your own brother, I wouldn't give him a free pass. Shit doll, I wouldn't do it even if he was mine. So, save your breath, and save yourself and your buddy Merle the trouble."

"But -"

"Now get the fuck out."

"Negan, I - "

"I said no, didn't I? You suffered a fucking brain damage, doll?"

"Fuck you, you fucking heartless dick." Mae mumbled to herself, turning on her heal and closing the door as she stormed out. 

"And watch that sweet mouth of yours, honey." Negan shouted from behind closed doors, but Mae kept on walking, dashing down the staircase, not stopping until she reached the basement level, one where the prisoners were held. She leaned her ear to the door of the small room, once used as a depository, meeting the perfect silence behind locked doors. How she wanted to say something, but words remained stuck in her throat, eyes turning watery.

She rarely went to this part of the compound, and her eyes scanned the surroundings vigorously as she blinked the tears away, memorizing each turn and each door on the way to the closest exit, knowing she might soon need it. A wary smile crossed her lips, as she ran into Dwight out in the backyard, the man leaned back to the wall, smoking a cigarette.

"Lend one?" Mae asked, and the man nodded, reaching for the box in his pocket.

"You okay?"

"Mhm, just had a fight with hubby." 

Dwight chuckled at her words, never hearing any of the wives refer to Negan as hubby before. Mae followed, bursting into laughter right behind him. Though she was angry with him at that particular moment, for his role in keeping Daryl captive, she had always been glad to run into Dwight. Besides him being an okay guy, he was quite a reliable source of information, and right now, it was information that Mae needed most. 

 At sundown, rushing to meet Merle at their spot, she came with an escape plan, getting hold of all crucial people's whereabouts for tomorrow. It might have been rash, but it was well thought through, and there was no chance in hell she'd be letting Daryl rot in that cell for a day longer. 

"Hey, honeybunch," Merle stopped her before parting ways, "Ya won't chicken out, will ya?"

A firm shake of head was all he needed, combined with Mae's determined gaze, and he nodded, releasing the grip on her wrist as the two parted ways.

**

I hope it doesn’t feel rushed. If so, do tell!

We'll be on a rescue mission the next chapter, which means Mae finally gets to see Daryl! Will they, or will they not, pull the escape off sucessfully?

Come talk to me guys!

Tag list: @jodiereedus22

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagines #daryl fanfiction #daryl x oc #merle dixon #negan #twd #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction

[thejadehermit]

AN: so this was a prompt from Serpentinefire. I'm not sure that I like how it turned out :/but I have such writers block lately I was happy to write anything. This is set during the season 8 premiere. I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead Xxxxxxxx It was happening, they were here on the edge. The precipice of an a war. Daryl saw Carol from a distance as he approached the bridge and even now, his heart thumped painfully in his chest. She was here. He had not seen her in so long. It felt like an eternity had passed since when she had left The Alexandria Safe zone with Ezekiel and his followers, but in truth it had been maybe a few weeks. Every day he was apart from her seemed to dredge on for an eternity. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, in a tightly sealed box in his brain that he kept firmly locked, he knew why. He knew why it hurt to wake up, everyday and know she was not there. He knew why he went to sleep wondering where she was, if she was okay, if she was safe, ...if she needed him. He knew why he obsessively wondered if she'd gone looking for comfort again in all the wrong places. Namely that asshole King, who was a little too friendly with Carol in Daryl's opinion. Daryl knew why it bothered him, just like he'd known why, he'd felt as though he was drowning in rage when he realized what was happening between her and Tobin. But, just like then, he refused to acknowledge it. He refused to take it out of that tightly guarded box in his mind and examine his feelings. It was his very own mythical Pandora's box nestled in his mind. Once he opened that box he knew without a doubt there would be no going back, and that thought more than anything, terrified him. Something's he thought were better left unsaid. Her presence in his life was...everything. When she was gone, he'd fallen apart. Carol kept some part of him alive. She'd lit a spark in him, that he had not know was there. Carol was hope, and when she was gone, it crumbled. He wasn't sure when it had happened. When she'd become his reason to live. He hadn't known it at the prison, but it must have started there, because the day everything had gone to hell, the day Rick told him that he'd banished her, he was pretty sure he'd felt the moment his heart had shattered. It had been painful to breathe. He'd needed to put his head down because he was suddenly lightheaded and overwhelmed by the urge to punch Rick in the face. If he had time he would have thought more on it then. But he hadn't. The pain he'd felt, at Carol's absence had almost incapacitated him when he was travelling with Beth. He'd let it consume him, and then it had made him mess up. Beth had payed the price. The feelings that had started to overwhelm his soul had left him almost unable to function. How could he survive, if Carol was gone? He'd closed that door tightly on those feelings before that had a chance to drag him under. But it hadn't been enough. His distraction had been costly, and in the end Beth had suffered. No Dixon had ever found a balance. A balance to let someone in, and let their presence, their love be a balm to their soul. To let someone fit themselves into their life. To be complete. Instead, it was always an obsessive all consuming passion. His daddy had drowned in the love he'd felt for his momma. His daddy had let it destroy the man he was, until there was nothing left of his daddy but a drunken possessive psychopath. Merle, had let it happen to him too. A girlfriend that most of the town considered too good for him. Chantal had been the daughter of a doctor, a doctor who had later on run for the Senate. A doctor who did not consider Merle Dixon good enough for his daughter. A doctor who'd wisked his daughter away to a very private clinic when Chantal had confessed to being pregnant. A doctor who had then sent Chantal to a boarding school in Europe. Merle was never the same. Hell he'd seen it over and over in his own group. Rick, Lori, Shane, Tyreese, Sasha, Bob, Abraham, Rosita, Tara, Denise, fuck even Maggie and Glenn, he thought with a wince, they had all let someone in, and they were worse off because of it. It was enough, that Carol was in his life. It was enough that Carol existed. It didn't matter that he ached every night for things he couldn't have. It didn't matter that, his fingers all but hummed to touch her when she was near. It didn't matter that every night he dreamt of her face, her eyes, her smile, her laugh. Those dreams in someway kept him going, he lived every desire in those dreams, and when he woke, he put them away. Nothing any good would come of those dreams. She was drawn to him when he stopped the bike, whatever it was that hung in the air between them, at least he knew, she felt it too. She made her way over, her eyes assessing him, when Carol looked at him this way, he felt...loved. She seemed to be cataloging everything about him, checking him over for any injuries, he always saw relief slump her shoulders, when she saw he was ok. "Hey." She said when she was standing in front of him, he was still sitting on the bike. "Any problems?" She asked, she was rocking on the balls of her feet like she was filled with nervous energy. "Naw, 'Chonne and Rosita have the herd following them, I'm gonna blow some charges along the way, block off any stranglers. Like a fucking cattle chute, they'll head right where we want them." They were setting up a massive herd, one that would bear down right on the Saviours compound. He and Michonne and Rosita had been at it all day. Rounding up small herds they found, forming one large herd. Carol and Tara and Morgan had been assigned look out on the bridge. Giving them directions on any passing herd. He nodded to Tara and Morgan as they kept a distance giving them a chance to talk. He growled slightly when Tara wiggles her eyebrows and made a lewd sexual gesture. Carol looking over her shoulder at Tara across the bridge catching her in the act, she snorted than turned back to him. Taking another step forward, and then anotheR. Get up, move, don't let her get so close. His mind was practically yelling, but he only stared at her in wonder, wondering how someone so perfect, so beautiful could exist in this hellish world. She set her hand on his shoulder and he opened his legs as she stepped even closer. He shivered at the light touch of her fingertips on his neck. "You know, I'm pretty sure we could find you a helmet, .." she murmured thoughtfully. He pfft out a chuckle trying to hide the tremors that rolled through his body at her touch. "Don't need a helmet." He grunted. Fuck please, please stop touching me, he thought to himself. He couldn't make himself pull away. Gone were the days when he flinched at her touch. Her touch seemed to feed his soul now. He practically wanted to purr, rub his body against hers. Mark her with his scent. Her hand came up and cupped his cheek..she looked thoughtful, like she wanted to say something, she bit her lip in thought. "Just...just stay safe..." she said then pulled herself into his body, it always amazed him how, she just fit. Like every curve on her body was meant to fit into every plane of his. His arms settled around her waist, and he couldn't stop himself from breathing her in. Her face was buried in his neck. " Just stay safe .." she whispered again "For me". She pulled back, and turned to walk away, but he grabbed her hand, not really sure what he wanted to say. He wanted her to hear him, he needed her to hear him, but he wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. Her hand slipped from his grasp, her soft skin sliding through his fingertips sending a sense of intense loss to his gut. It was always this way. He was like an addict waiting for his next fix. So he whispered the one thing he was able to say before starting his bike and driving away. "Nine lives."

#caryl fan fic #caryl au #caryl and daryl #caryl fan fiction