TIRED FANGIRL

You huffed a breath, watching the gentle sway of his broad shoulders, memorizing the messy cross-stitching of angel wings patched onto the back of his vest. “You know, you never struck me as the ‘surprising’ type,” you shot back, the forest terrain shifting into more of an incline.

“Yeah?” he grunted, somehow keeping up his steadfast pace despite the sudden shift in altitude. “An’ what did I strike ya as?”

“Hostile,” you laughed, attempting to conceal the fact that you were growing increasingly out of breath.

Daryl paused mid-stride, shooting you an unamused look. “Funny,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes — though he remained rooted in place until you managed to catch up, a fondness in his gaze that stole your breath for an entirely different reason.

“How — are you — not dying?” you panted between breaths, your thighs burning, the pebbled rocks beneath you digging into the worn soles of your shoes. “If I had known — we were scaling — Mount-fucking-Everest — I would’ve come better prepared.”

The archer smirked before nudging you gently with his elbow. “C’mon, we’re almost there,” he rasped, turning without another word and continuing his climb up the steepening incline.

You planted your hands on your hips, watching as he smoothly and effortlessly traversed upward. “That’s what you said an hour ago, you know!” you yelled after him, wiping away the sweat that’d formed on your brow with the crook of your elbow. “Alright,” you whispered, attempting to psyche yourself up. “Come on, Y/N, suck it up.”

You inhaled a deep breath, tilted your chin up, and pushed after the archer.

How Daryl had even found this place was beyond you — but despite the struggle, you merely grit your teeth together and barreled after the man, grabbing onto twisted tree trunks and ribbed ancient rocks to help propel you further up the hill. You dug the toes of your shoes into the mossy curves, the muddy grooves, all the while keeping your eyes straight ahead, working to keep your momentum up the cliffside.

And then, you saw it.

A break in the trees, warm, golden light pouring in from between the shadows just ahead.

Daryl clambered to the very top of the incline, immediately turning to look down at you, rather than what you could imagine being one hell of a view. “Alright, one las’ stretch,” he hollered down at you, his eyes alight with something so breathtaking you had to stop and commit the image to memory.

You shook away the warmth spreading through you, grabbing onto the nearest tree and resting your head against the trunk instead. “Hang on, give me a minute,” you exhaled, closing your eyes and breathing through the cramp that’d formed in your side.

“C’mon, jus’ a lil’ longer,” Daryl urged, the amusement in his tone evident.

You peeked one eye open, glaring at the man. “If you say that shit again, I’ll give you a buzz cut while you’re sleeping.”

Daryl’s eyes widened in the slightest before he ducked his head down, turning his face away from you as he began laughing — the sound was so rare, so genuine, you felt yourself grow misty-eyed.

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk as he faced you once more, crouching down and extending his hand towards you.

You huffed a laugh of your own, sniffling softly as you shoved away the vulnerability that’d lingered. Moving purely off of adrenaline, you trudged up the final few yards before reaching for Daryl’s outstretched hand, his fingers wrapping around yours — calloused and rough and familiar.

He felt like home — in every sense of the word.

You were standing up beside him a moment later, red-faced and sweaty, hair gnarled like the trees you’d used to get to where you were.

And then Daryl stepped aside, unveiling the big surprise.

All of the air in your lungs escaped you in one big whoosh at the view before you. Miles and miles of untouched land sprawled out beneath the cliffside you stood atop of, towering trees and billowing bush. The sun had begun its descent in the distance, setting the world ablaze with brilliant oranges and yellows, the warmth kissing the softness of your cheeks.

You peered over at Daryl, surprised to see him watching you instead.

“Daryl,” you whispered, the word tangled up in your throat. “How did you — it’s beautiful.”

The archer glanced down as though his boots had become rather interesting. “Mhm,” he sounded, nodding his head once before looking up at you again, redness tinging his cheeks. “Reminded me a’ ya, I guess.”

Your lips curled up into a smile as you stepped towards him, reaching out and placing your palm against his cheek, brushing your thumb back and forth. He leaned into your touch, covering your hand with his own.

You pulled away then, shooting him one last cheeky grin before turning towards the view, walking closer towards the edge of the cliffside. You wanted to absorb as much of the hushed beauty as you could — one day, it would undoubtedly fall victim to the decaying world around it.

But for now, you simply breathed in the quiet.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you murmured over your shoulder, hugging your arms around your center as you inhaled another deep breath, feeling more at peace than you had in a long time.

The archer hummed lowly in response before clearing his throat. “It’ll be dark soon,” he rasped from somewhere behind you. “Ya should start headin’ home.”

You raised a brow as if he could see it, laughing softly. “Don’t you mean ‘we’?”

Daryl was quiet for a long moment, so long you almost thought he hadn’t heard you. But then he sighed, soft and somber, and something deep within your gut willed you not to turn around. “We both know I ain’t really here, Y/N.”

The world stilled.

Splintering like shards of glass from a broken mirror, the fallout sliced at your skin as your heartbeat, strong and steady, pounded right behind your eardrums.

And then everything came rushing back to you.

You knew something was wrong before the shouting started.

You’d been crouched down, tending to one of Alexandria’s gardens when you’d heard it.

The blaring of a car horn, followed by a desperate cry.

“Open the goddamn gates!”

You jumped to your feet, your heart leaping to your throat because something was wrong — something was very wrong but you didn’t know what and you were on the opposite side of Alexandria.

So you took off.

You weaved between houses, sprinting after the sound of a roaring truck engine, the peeling of tires. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, because something was really fucking wrong and you had a sinking feeling in your gut that no amount of assuring thoughts would subside.

Panic clawed at your chest as you came to a screeching halt just outside the infirmary.

A white pickup truck was parked outside — the same one that’d been taken on a supply run earlier in the day. The same one you’d watched Daryl drive through the gates of Alexandria, his eyes having met yours in the rearview mirror one last time before the fences shut behind him.

But you couldn’t focus on that — you couldn’t focus on the people rushing from their homes, curious about the commotion, or the fact that the engine of the truck was still running, or that the doors were swung wide open.

No, you couldn’t focus on that because all you saw was red.

Stark, brilliant, redness.

Coating the seats of the truck, the doors, the windows.

The sight would’ve made you sick if you had anything in your stomach to throw up.

You took a shaky step forward…and then another and another, slowly approaching the infirmary. But the closer you neared, the farther away it seemed — because you knew.

Somehow, someway, you knew.

You stumbled closer to the house, the edges of your vision blurred — but you had to know, you had to see for yourself.

Except when you reached the porch stairs, Rick appeared, barreling through the front door and grabbing onto the porch railing for support — pale-faced, eyes rimmed red, his expression only furthering the dread that’d latched onto your bones. He looked down at you — no, through you — his mouth opening and closing though no words came out.

You slowly climbed up the stairs, your body moving on autopilot. But before you could reach the door, Rick suddenly moved in front of you.

“Y/N —”

“It’s him,” you whispered, your own voice sounding foreign and far away like it was someone else speaking entirely. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

You attempted to sidestep the sheriff, but he followed your movements, grabbing onto either of your shoulders. “Let’s — let’s sit ya down, alright?”

You tried to shake him off, but his grip merely tightened, his fingertips grounding you but damn it, you didn’t want to be grounded. You didn’t want to be there at all — you wanted to be far, far away. You tried to pull loose again, your movements growing more desperate. “I need to see — let me — damn it, Rick, let me see him!” you screamed, bringing your hands up and shoving the sheriff backward.

The momentum of his body slamming against the front door swung it wide open. You pushed your way inside as Rick stumbled back to his feet, grabbing onto you once more. “Y/N, please —”

But it was too late.

You saw Glenn and Maggie first, huddled in the corner, wrapped around each other, their hands covered in more blood than you figured was humanly possible. Maggie wouldn’t look at you, her face buried in the crook of Glenn’s neck instead. Glenn, on the other hand, stared absently at the metal table in the center of the room.

Your gaze followed his.

And then you saw him.

Splayed out on his back, one hand draped over his chest, the other hanging off the table. His eyes were shut, his features still — you almost would’ve thought he was sleeping if it weren’t for the massive chunk of flesh missing from his throat.

He’d been bit.

Blood still oozed from the wound, forming into a small puddle near his head that’d begun to overflow and drip off the side of the table.

You were seeing, but not understanding.

This wasn’t real.

This couldn’t be real.

Not him.

“We got —” Glenn’s voice broke off as he roughly wiped away a tear that’d snaked down his cheek, leaving a streak of red instead. “We got overrun. They just — they came out of nowhere. And if he hadn’t — they almost got —” he glanced down at Maggie then, the woman stifling a sob against his chest, her fingers curling around the collar of his shirt.

You were hearing, but not listening.

This wasn’t real.

This couldn’t be real.

Not him.

You took a small step forward, then another and another until you were standing beside his unmoving form. You reached out, ignoring the way your hand trembled as you placed your palm gingerly against the side of his face, brushing your thumb back and forth against his pale skin. “Daryl,” you murmured, half-expecting him to answer because he always — always — showed up for you.

And you needed him now more than ever.

The room was too small, too stifling. You needed space. You needed to be alone with him. “Get out,” you whispered, feeling the room still. “Now,” you hissed, your tone sharp because why wasn’t anybody fucking listening.

When the room finally began to empty, you felt Rick come to stand beside you, his fingers gently uncurling your clenched fist and sliding something into your grasp instead.

You didn’t need to look down.

You knew what the weight of a knife felt like.

And then you were alone.

Just Daryl and you, the way it’d always been.

You fought back the urge to crawl onto the table beside him, knowing damn well that sooner rather than later, he’d come back — but not the man you knew, not the man you loved.

He’d come back as something entirely different.

And so you waited — any semblance of who you were before today melting away, in its place the hollow shell of a person who’d lost too much and in turn, lost themself.

And so you simply stood there and waited.

Because he wasn’t the only one changing.

Daryl and you, the way it’d always been.

A strange, sort of deranged laugh expelled from your body, echoing over the miles of quiet below you — but the noise hitched somewhere in your chest, sounding more like a sob than anything else.

You spun around, turning towards where Daryl had been standing just a moment ago.

But he was gone.

And you were alone — just you, the trees, and the setting sun.

Your legs suddenly gave out and you collapsed onto the ground, the forest floor digging into the soft flesh of your knees. You reached out and placed your hands, palms-down, against the dirt, your fingertips trembling as you felt the soil beneath you.

It felt real — but was it? Was anything real? Were you even really here to begin with?

You flipped over onto your backside, drawing your knees close and burying your face into your hands, inhaling the sultry scents of the earth beneath your fingernails. Your breathing was beginning to grow erratic, your chest tightening as though a giant hand had broken through your ribcage and grabbed onto your withering heart.

You were having a panic attack — or a heart attack, you weren’t quite sure.

Either way, you would’ve given anything at that moment to just not feel.

“Nice view, ain’t it?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, your head snapping to the side.

And sure enough, there he was, sitting beside you.

Knees drawn to his chest, arms wound around them, hands clasped together as his blue eyes glinted towards the descending sun.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, inhaling shakily. “I’m —” your voice cracked as you quickly wiped away the tears that’d fallen. “I’m dreaming…aren’t I?”

Daryl glanced over at you then, flicking away the hair that fell over his face, his mouth twisting up into a sad smile. “A’ least ya ain’t crazy.”

A strangled sort of laugh slipped past your lips because maybe he was wrong — maybe you were crazy. Maybe you’d finally snapped and this was your reality now.

You slowly reached towards him, the archer so still you weren’t even sure he was breathing. Your palm found his cheek once more, your thumb brushing back and forth, the same way it had the day you’d lost him. “But I — I can feel you,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, your brow furrowing as his skin warmed beneath your touch.

Daryl remained quiet, his gaze searching yours, an emotion behind his eyes you couldn’t quite interpret. Then the corner of his mouth quirked and he turned away, letting your hand fall as he stared back at the setting sun.

But you couldn’t take your eyes off him, afraid that if you did, he’d disappear for good.

“Daryl,” you murmured, feeling your throat clog when his eyes met yours once more.

“Hm?” he sounded faintly.

“I —” you pushed down the sob building in your chest, digging your fingernails into the palm of your hand to keep from breaking. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Daryl’s head tilted in the slightest, a look of confusion flittering across his features. “M’ right here, Y/N,” he countered simply, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that it wasn’t the same — that soon you’d wake and he’d be gone and you’d be left alone once more, in a world so much darker without him in it.

Instead, you sighed, long and heavy. “I miss you,” you whispered because you didn’t know what else to say, because it was the only real thing you could think of.

The archer smiled then, the glowing sun catching the gleam in his eye and setting your soul on fire. “M’ with ya,” he rasped, the rumble sending a chill down your spine. “Always.”

You felt your eyes well, prickling at the corners as you watched him, a mirrored fondness in your gaze.

Then Daryl huffed a soft breath and faced the view once more. “Ya should start headin’ home,” he murmured after a stretch of quiet had passed on.

Your chest tightened because you weren’t ready to let go — not yet.

“I will,” you said, breathing in the sight of him one last time before forcing yourself to look away. You studied the fiery colors that’d spread across the horizon instead of the sudden and empty space beside you — the space where he’d just been moments ago.

You sighed, a sad smile tugging at your lips as you soaked in the brevity of peace you’d found here, knowing deep down that whether it be in this lifetime or the next, you’d find each other once more.

A warmth settled over you, a feeling of home.

“Just a little while longer,” you whispered.

And the sun continued to dim.

Fin.

A/N: *crickets*

Oh...hey...didn't see ya there :)))))))

LMAO I'M SO SORRY, LET ME JUST SAY THAT RIGHT OFF THE BAT. Like I said before, this story took on a mind of its own! I had no control! Don't yell at me! (Well, it's okay if you yell at me, I understand. I'm currently yelling at myself as we speak because HOW DARE I DO THIS)

So yeah, I hope you lovelies enjoyed despite the massive plot twist.

Massive.

Ya know.

Like the 'massive chunk of flesh missing from Daryl's neck'.

OKAY, I'M SORRY I'LL STOP NOW.

P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!