starrydixon

One-Shots

Daryl Dixon:

Crossbow 101 | fluff | 2.7k

Having enough of your persistence, Daryl finally agrees to teach you how to use his crossbow.  

Faint | fluff | 2.5k

After pushing yourself a little too hard in the hot Georgia sun, you find yourself losing consciousness. Luckily, Daryl’s right there to help you out.

Happily Ever After | fluff | 4.3k

Dedicating a day out behind the walls of Alexandria, Daryl takes you for a ride on his bike as he leads you towards a special place in the woods. There, he intends to ask you a very important question.

Home | fluff | 3.1k

When Daryl finally comes home after a week long supply run, you cant help yourself from doting on him...and Daryl doesn’t stop you.

Lost & Found | comfort-fluff | anxiety | grief | 3.6k

After losing the last remaining picture of your mother in a horde of walkers, Daryl takes it upon himself get it back for you.

Needles and Pins | descriptions of violence (fist fight) | pre-apocalypse | 2.4k

When you and Daryl’s laid-back night out takes a turn, you both aren’t afraid to show off the damage that your strong personalities can cause.

Rainstorm | minor angst | fluff | 1.9k

After a week full of turmoil, the last thing you needed was a torrential rainstorm passing through Alexandria to worsen your already somber mood. When an unexpected guest appears at your door, you're surprised at just how fast your mood changes for the better.

Reality Check | comfort-fluff | scary situation | mild description of blood and injuries | 3.3k

When you experience a close call with a walker while on a supply run with Daryl, the archer tries his best to comfort you.

Restless | comfort-fluff | 2.2k

After another nightmare startles you awake in the middle of the night, you find it hard to fall back to sleep. Your boyfriend Daryl comes to the rescue when he senses your spot beside him in bed is empty.

Together | comfort-fluff | 4k

Daryl knew something wasn’t right when it takes you longer than normal to return from foraging in the woods. When he finds you injured, it's a race against a herd of walkers to return home in one piece.

Wildflower | fluff | 3.6k

After confessing that you had never been given flowers before, Daryl finds himself becoming determined to be the first one to do so.

Winter Serenity | comfort-fluff | mild angst | 2k

After the farm fell and you had lost your sibling during the fallout, Daryl helps you through your grief one winter morning by a creek in the woods.

Series

Daryl Dixon:

Despair - Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 | angst | completed | 14.7k total 

When Daryl confesses to cheating on you during his isolation in the woods after Rick’s sudden disappearance, it takes years for your relationship with the archer to mend.

Drabbles

Daryl Dixon:

Skipping Stones | fluff | 597 words

The closer you got, the more distinctive the music of Black Sabbath became. Although you were eager to get to Daryl, you slowed the pace of your steps as you began to hear the faint sound of an unsuspecting voice singing along to the song. It was hard to picture Daryl singing as you had never even heard him hum a tune before, so you couldn't believe what your ears were hearing until you saw it with your own two eyes. Your lungs had practically stilled as you strained your ears to hear more clearly. Pausing just before the open garage door so you were still hidden from view, you carefully peered your head around the corner to peek inside the garage.

Your gaze instantly fixated on the sight of the angel wings that were on his back. With a slightly ducked head that caused his dark unruly strands of hair to cover his face, he stood by his work bench fiddling with a piece of an automotive part that you couldn’t identify even if your life depended on it. As the music of Paranoid filled the garage, Daryl’s head bobbed slightly from side to side in rhythm with the song. 

Your heart melted at the sight, and you had to place a hand over your mouth as you tried your hardest to not audibly swoon over your adorable boyfriend. Tentatively, you took a few more steps forward so you were leaning against the door frame. With your arms crossed over your chest in a way that made it seem like you were hugging yourself, you bit your lower lip as you could clearly hear Daryl humming along to the song under his breath. 

You couldn't stop the smile from stretching out across your face as you basked in the sight of Daryl singing along to the lyrics that he knew like the back of his hand. Even after all these years of knowing him, Daryl still managed to surprise you every day.

As the song began to fade and a new one began to start, Daryl had finally felt your presence. Carefully, he turned his head to the side to look over his shoulder. The archer didn’t seem alarmed at the sight of you, as his body language only seemed to relax more knowing you were there. Turning to face you fully, Daryl gave you a lopsided smile and a small wave of his hand that was covered in grease and oil.

“Were you just singing to yourself?” You couldn’t help but ask as you stepped further into the garage. Finding the black stool that Daryl barely used, you took a seat.

“Oh, uh-“ Pausing, a sheepish look suddenly formed across his face at the knowledge that not only had he been singing out loud without even realizing it, but that you had heard it. Rubbing at a non-existent itch on the back of his neck with his hand, Daryl struggled to finish his sentence. “-guess so. Sorry- didn't notice.” 

Daryl wasn't the kind of guy who normally cared about what other people thought, especially when it was about him. As he'd never had an audience to impress, he never cared if he was able to hold a tune when singing along to a song. However, now that you had heard him sing, the one person whose opinion actually meant something to him, he hoped he had been somewhat decent at it. 

With a slight shake of your head, you slowly stood up from the work stool and strode over to Daryl. The closer you became, the lower Daryl’s gaze ducked away from yours. When you were standing in front of him, you instantly placed your hands on his chest while a warm smile spread over your lips.

“Don’t ever apologize, it was nice. You should keep singing.”

Daryl’s gaze instantly lifted back up to meet yours, and he couldn’t stop the warm blush from dusting over the tops of his cheeks that reached to the tip of his ears. You were looking up at him with so much adoration in your eyes that it was almost overwhelming. The longer you stared at him with all that love in your eyes, the warmer his chest felt and the deeper the pink became on the apples of his cheeks. Letting out a gruff chuckle, he shrugged his shoulders dismissively.

“This ain’t a free show, y'know. You’re gonna have to pay if ya want more.”

As your warm joyous laugh reached his ears, and he felt your body lean into his as you laughed at his lame quip, it was Daryl’s turn for his heart to completely and utterly melt. He snaked an arm around your waist so that his hand was pressed against your lower back for support. A rather smug smirk uplifted one corner of Daryl’s mouth as he watched you laugh. 

With a grin so big it threatened to split your face in two, and with a rather mischievous glint twinkling in your eyes, you moved your hands up Daryl’s chest so that your arms were now wrapped around his neck. The slight change in your demeanor sent an electric shock to shoot up Daryl’s back as he anticipated on whatever you were about to say. His hold on you tightened slightly.

“I think I can spare a little change.” Your voice was softer now as your fingers began to play with the ends of Daryl’s hair. It made another spark shoot up his spine and goosebumps to raise over his skin. 

“Ya think I’m only worth a little bit of change?” He scoffed again at the notion as if it offended him and pulled you in even closer against his body. “Gonna have to bargain with a little more than that, sunshine.”

“How about I add some kisses, too?” Your question was teasing and hypothetical. You already knew what his answer would be.

Just as expected, Daryl’s only response was raising the hand that wasn’t currently holding you so he could cup the side of your face. Your arms tightened around his neck as his lips came crashing down on yours in a sweet and electrifying kiss.

-

-

“That was awful.”

With a sigh, you raised a hand to your face and pinched the bridge of your nose. “Thanks.”

The archer chuckled quietly and shuffled closer to you. Removing the hands that were stuffed in the front pockets of his worn denim jeans, he bent down and rummaged through the rocks that surrounded the bend of the river. Lifting your head up, your bottom lip jutted out in a pout as you watched Daryl’s thumb brush over the smooth surface of a stone as he flipped it around in his palm. 

“Please don’t.” Borderline desperation filled your eyes as you continued to wordlessly plead with the archer. Shooting a sideway glance towards you, Daryl cocked an eyebrow towards his hairline while a smirk upturned one corner of his mouth. 

“Do what?”

Before you could answer, the archer threw the rock towards the glistening river with a snap of his wrist. You couldn’t stop your lips from parting slightly in awe as you watched the flat stone skip across the water eight times before sinking out of sight. Defensively, you crossed your arms over your chest and scoffed.

“No one likes a show off.”

Turning his head to look at you, Daryl shrugged his shoulders. “It ain’t rocket science.”

All you could do was hum indifferently as your gaze remained on the rippling stream in front of you. Daryl couldn’t help but take a moment to admire you. A few strands of your hair were sticking to your face due to the fall breeze that had been coming and going throughout the day. Daryl found that the bright colors of the autumn leaves that had fallen from their branches and littered the forest floor somehow brought out the color of your eyes. They seem ten times brighter than they usually were. 

You were a sight for sore eyes, especially now. With growing despair, desperation, and guilt constantly filling Daryl’s consciousness as he searched for his brother, there wasn’t much that brought him a sense of solace. Everytime you visited, without fail, always managed to take his mind off of the agony that ached his being. It didn’t matter if you came to deliver him supplies, join him on his search for Rick, wordlessly keep him company at his makeshift camp, or skip stones across the river. 

“I do believe there are some forms of physics involved with skipping rocks…and I suck at math. So yes, it is rocket science.”

Taking your gaze off of the river, you turned to face Daryl. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw a light in Daryl’s previously dull eyes that you hadn’t seen for quite some time. With the way the archer was looking at you, as if you held the whole world in your hands, flustered heat rose to your face and filled your chest with warmth. 

Shaking his head to rid himself of his thoughts, Daryl cleared his throat and shyly nudged the toe of his boot into the rocks that surrounded him. Reaching down, he grabbed the first flat stone he could find before rising to his full height once again. Wordlessly, Daryl beckoned you closer with a lift of his chin. 

“C’mere, I’ll show ya how easy it is.”

-

-

Everything kinda snowballed out of control when I started to get really bad writers block. Then I got covid (for the first time 🙃). Then another wave of writer's block/low motivation hit, and now I'm dealing with severe burnout.

Currently, I've been working on a request (slowly), and I feel horrible for how long it's been taking me to finish!!

I think a major reason as to why I'm having such a hard time writing at the moment is because I've been working over 40+ hours a week lately and the job in general just drains me mentally and physically after every shift. I love my job but it's just so hard to do anything except sleep and work. 😭

I really want this burnout to end, and I'm thinking that a way to do that is to write some short stories by using prompts for a little while?? I haven't really figured it out yet but I miss writing and creating so much!! 🥺

If you guys have any advice for me, want to submit prompts, quotes or themes to create drabbles with, or have any opinions about the potential drabbles, please let me know!! My inbox and private messages are always open!!

Although there was a rush of relief washing over you when The Whisperers had been defeated for once and for all, the aftermath of their stampede through Alexandria with their massive horde of walkers was distressing. It was a harrowing sight to see, once you returned. The safe haven you and the rest of the community had spent years building and growing was now completely destroyed and tainted. There was virtually nothing left, which meant you would have to start over…again.

“There’s gotta be at least somethin’ that was left behind.” Daryl grumbled as his alert eyes surveyed the surrounding area. The silence of the neighborhood was unsettling, and Daryl wasn’t going to take any chances with letting his guard down. 

With a quirk of your eyebrow, you hummed in agreement. “I’d even take back a pack of rusty nails at this point.”

Letting out a slightly amused scoff, Daryl turned to look at you. “I’ll make sure to keep an eye out.” You could feel a grin begin to stretch out across your face as Daryl averted his gaze from your face so he could survey the neighborhood again. With a nudge of his head, the archer motioned towards the closest house within your vicinity. “C’mon, let’s start here first.”

You weren’t sure what you were looking for exactly as you began to search through the abandoned houses. The possibility of finding a can of food was slim to zero, and you weren’t sure if a suburban neighborhood like this one would have any kind of survival materials; even before the apocalypse started. After going through the first few houses, you and Daryl had only managed to salvage a few items and some clothing for the children of Alexandria. 

“What are we doing?” You exasperated through a tired sigh while leaning against the wall in the kitchen of the latest house you were searching. One of your hands rose to your face so you could pinch the bridge of your nose. 

Daryl was busy pulling out different junk draws and stifling through them. Coming out empty handed, the archer shut the last drawer with an aggressive slam. Dark caramel bangs hung over his eyes as he leaned against the counter of the kitchen island. His back faced you, and you could see his head shaking ever so slightly. “I dunno.”

Pushing off the wall, you ventured towards Daryl and stood beside him. Your shoulder was pressed against his, and it sent a comforting warmth to spread throughout your body at the contact. Wordlessly, you both took a few moments to regroup. Your gaze fell out the window that was behind the sink. There wasn’t much to look at outside; it was a gloomy day with gray clouds covering every inch of the sky and blocking the sun from shining its light on you. In the corner, you noticed an overgrown plant tapping quietly against the dingy glass.

“Let’s look at one more—the big one on the corner—‘fore lookin’ somewhere else.” Daryl finalized as his eyes caught onto the rustling plant in the window.

“Alright—“ With another sigh escaping past your lips, you pushed yourself from the granite countertop. “Let’s go.”

Following behind Daryl, you gripped the machete in your hand. Daryl’s crossbow was held up to his eye level as he surveyed the property with his sharp hunter eyes. When you approached the front entrance of the two floor victorian styled home, Daryl used his elbow to knock on the door. Straining your ears, you both waited for any kind of disturbance to be heard. When nothing happened, you both ventured in. Using his hand, Daryl signaled you to check upstairs while he searched the downstairs. Making sure you had a firm grip on your weapon, you slowly crept towards the staircase.

Due to the neglect and overall age, each stair you stepped on felt rickety, and creaked at a pitch you were uncomfortable with. When you stepped on a particularly soft step, you feared you’d end up falling through the staircase. When you finally reached the top, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Rolling your shoulders to relieve some of the tension embedded in your muscles, you began to tiptoe down the hallway. You’d cautiously peek through each room as you passed them. If nothing caught your eye, you moved on.

The upstairs was eerily quiet; the only sounds that filled the empty passageway were your short and controlled breaths, and the creaks of the wooden floorboards. With adrenaline flowing through your veins, it made the blood pumping through you sound like gongs going off in your ears. As you ventured down the hallway, your eyes flitted over all the pictures that hung on the wall. Most of them were family pictures, or portraits of children who had gotten their yearly pictures taken at school. When your eyes fell on a group family picture, your stomach twisted and you had to look away. You were sure that was the family whose house you were currently looting and snooping through. 

The last room that had to be checked out was the master bedroom, which resided at the end of the hallway. Swallowing thickly, you readjusted the grip you had on your machete, again, and gently pressed your ear against the cold wooden door. Even after your knock against the door, there were no suspicious sounds coming from within. Moving inside, you looked around the trashed bedroom. There was nothing much to look at, just thrown mildewy clothes, and aged beauty and grooming supplies scattered across various dressers. Just as you were about to move on, a shut door, which you assumed was the bathroom, caught your eye. You hoped there were medical supplies in there, since the supplies you had back home were running out fast. With a clammy hand, you turned the knob.

Before you could even take a step into the bathroom, a growling walker lunged at you from out of nowhere; almost as if it had materialized out of thin air. Your breath got stuck in your throat as the walker came at you with impeccable speed. Until you could get at an advantage point, all you could do was stumble backwards as the snarling walker snapped its unhinged jaw and bared its rotten teeth in your face. Falling into the hallway, you pressed your arm against the walker’s throat to prolong its teeth from sinking into your flesh.

In a sheer panic, you blindly swung your machete at the walker with your free hand. With your flailing body and limbs, it was impossible to get a proper headshot. The best you could do was land a few slashes on the walker’s back and shoulders. The scent of your alive flesh motivated the corpse to keep charging towards you, hence making your weak attempts at slowing it down futile. Letting out a choked cry, your body slammed against the opposing wall in the hallway. With the impact of your body crashing against the wall, one of the framed pictures rattled off its hook and crashed down on your head. Sharp pieces of glass cascaded down your face, cutting your skin and making it seem like you were taking a stinging shower of splinters. Due to your tousle with the walker, the machete had been dropped from your hand.

“D-Daryl!” You fearfully choked out as all the air in your lungs felt like it had been knocked out of you.

“Y/N!?” Daryl shouted as he began to run towards the staircase. The closer he got, the louder your desperate cries and the snarls of the famished walker sounded. Explicits left Daryl's mouth as he ran as fast as he could to get to you.

Your arms shook as you struggled to keep the deadweight of the corpse from suffocating you completely.  It was then that you realized you wouldn’t be able to hold the walker back much longer. Your strength was dwindling fast, and you knew it was only a matter of seconds until your arms would completely give out. Feeling your sinuses swell in emotion, and eyes begin to sting with oncoming tears, you squeezed your eyes shut and turned your head as far away as you could from the salivating walker. Just before your arms had given out completely, you heard an arrow whizz through the air and puncture through the rotten skull of the walker with a sickening squelching sound.

Like a rock, the corpse dropped to the ground in front of you, collapsing in a heap by your blood stained boots. Your chest heaved heavy breathes as your wide and terror filled eyes stayed glued on the neutralized walker. Vaguely, you could hear Daryl calling out to you, but his voice sounded disoriented and indecipherable. It felt like your head was dunked underwater and the only thing you could hear were the muffled sound waves. 

"Hey—hey…Y/N, can ya hear me?" Daryl placed his hands on your shaking shoulders, his eyes darting over your body in search of any bites, scratches, or other injuries. The archer spotted the multiple cuts littering across your skin due to the smashed glass, and a gash on your hairline that was causing blood to fall down the side of your face. “You're alright...just-just snap out of it dammit." Daryl tried to comfort you as you stood in a traumatized stupor, but found himself growing frustrated with his inability to do so. Instead, he found himself growling at you. 

After giving your shoulders a firm squeeze, Daryl gently shook you; even though his capability of gentleness was slow and jolted movements. Feeling the jagged shakes of your body, you slowly felt yourself become less numb. Your vision refocused, and you could see Daryl’s worried face staring directly in front of you. Daryl ducked his head a little so he could be more eye level with you, and searched your eyes for any sign of awareness.

“That—that was too close.” You whispered in a wavering voice before struggling to swallow the lump that sat in your throat. At the sound of your regained consciousness, Daryl felt his shoulders drop in relief.

“You alright?” Daryl asked quietly, fearful to raise his voice any louder. He knew you weren’t okay, but thought he’d still ask.

“My head kinda hurts…but I think I’m okay?” You searched Daryl’s eyes as if the answer was somewhere in his uniquely colored irises. “Please tell me you found something, or this near-death experience was for nothing.”

Removing one hand from off your shoulders, Daryl rubbed the back of his neck. “I—uh—think I found a couple things worth takin’ back…” Trailing off, you watched as Daryl dug into his pants pocket and pull out a box. At first glance, it looked like a pack of cigarettes, but you quickly identified the generic brand for hardware nails. “They ain’t rusty, but I think they’ll do just fine”

At the sight, a smile began to break out on your face, and laughter erupted from out of your mouth. You weren’t sure if it was because the adrenaline was beginning to dwindle, or because of the near death you had just experienced, but your laughter began to turn into sobs. Tears streamed steady down your face, and you instinctively threw your arms around Daryl’s neck for support as your knees began to buckle from beneath you. For a moment, Daryl’s body was completely still as he felt your body tremble against his, and your salty tears seep through his cotton shirt. Dropping the pack of nails, Daryl practically engulfed your frame with his arms; holding you tight and making you feel protected.

“It’s gonna be alright,” Daryl murmured against the side of your head as he stroked your hair. “I ain’t gonna let nothin’ bad ever happen to ya.”

Whimpering, your arms tightened around him. “I don’t know what happened…it just—came right at me. I-I couldn’t even brace myself.” 

“Might be dumb as hell, but those bastards can be tricky sometimes.” Daryl drawled, making his distinct southern accent sound even thicker. 

“I just feel like a stupid rookie—making it this far in the apocalypse, taking down hundreds of walkers for over a decade, and then being taken out by one?” With scoff, you shook your head distastefully. “I’m so stupid.”

“Hey-“ Pulling away so he could cup both your cheeks with his hands, Daryl made sure he was looking into your glossy and sad eyes. “Sometimes we get a reality check, ’n it sucks, but it’s gonna make ya even stronger now.” With a shake of his head, a lopsided smile began to twitch at one corner of his mouth. “You were a force to be reckoned with before, now you’re gonna be unstoppable…feel sorry for the next unlucky sumbitch that gets in your way.”

You could feel your face begin to heat up, and fresh tears glaze over your eyes at Daryl’s endearing words of reassurance. With the sleeve of your shirt, you wiped at the wetness staining your cheeks. Unable to find your voice, and with your throat still feeling thick, you placed a hand on Daryl’s shoulder for balance and rose to your tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. The second he felt your soft lips press against his scruffy cheek, the archer felt the tips of his ears and the expanse of his chest flush pink. Shaking his head so his bangs covered the bashful expression on his face, Daryl cleared his throat and looked inside the bedroom you had previously been in.

“Ya find anythin’ in here?”

“I didn’t get a chance to look in the bathroom.” You admitted with a sheepish shrug of your shoulders. Nodding his head, Daryl turned from you and ventured inside. You followed after him with a ducked head. “I only went in there in hopes of finding some medical supplies…”

Pausing in front of the medicine cabinet that hung on the wall above the sink, and with his fingers resting on the metal knobs, Daryl looked at your dejected form through the mirror. “I know.” Pulling open the unsteady cabinet, Daryl’s hands searched through the outdated and expired medicine. From your visibility, you spotted a small first-aid kit, and a bottle of medical alcohol. “C’mere.”

With a thick gulp, you shuffled over to the archer who was busy pawing through the first-aid kit. “There's others back home that need that stuff more than me.” You pointed out as Daryl grabbed a few bandaids for the numerous cuts that were littered across your face. Turning to you with furrowed eyebrows, Daryl frowned down at you.

“Now you’re bein’ stupid.”

Huffing out a scoff, you leaned back against the bathroom sink and crossed your arms firmly over your chest. After spending years by Daryl’s side, you knew there was no point in arguing with him; he was too stubborn. Stepping in front of you, Daryl grabbed the black bandana from out of his back pocket and slowly rose it to the bloody gash on your forehead. As gently as he could, the archer removed as much blood from the surrounding area as he could. 

As Daryl tended to your wounds, with his face so close to yours and the tips of his fingers occasionally brushing against your skin, you found it difficult to breathe properly. There was so much concentration and concern on his face as he worked, and you could feel the care he had for you with each movement of his hands as he placed butterfly bandages on your various wounds. Whenever your eyes caught his, you could feel your face heat up. You prayed the dingy lighting prevented Daryl from noticing your flustered state. At one point, you swore you saw the archers fingers tremble due to the fear of inflicting further pain on you as he placed gauze on the big and sensitive laceration on your forehead.

“Thanks.” You murmured in a soft voice as Daryl finished with the last bandaid. 

“I ain’t done yet–you’re gonna need some stitches for that gash on your head.” With his finger, he pointed to the cut he was referring too. “I think I got some leftover stitchin’ stuff back at my place.”

“Well, I’m thanking you in advance.” Despite how physically and emotionally drained you were, you still managed to give Daryl a smile that never failed to make his heart feel like it would burst from his chest.

“Don’t gotta do that…it’s nothin’.” Unable to take a compliment, Daryl turned away from you and began to stuff the remaining medical supplies in his bag. With heart racing so fast, he wondered if you could hear it from where you stood so closely beside him.

“It’s not nothing, Daryl,” Placing a hand on his arm, you turned him so he was facing you again. When you were able to meet his ducked gaze, you placed a hand on his chest. “It means everything to me…you and all the things you do means a lot to me, actually.” 

You didn’t know where this sudden proclamation was coming from, you just knew it felt right…despite the intense circumstances that had taken place only moments ago. You supposed your near-fatal reality check was giving you the courage to finally tell Daryl only a fraction of the feelings you had spent nearly a decade harboring. The thought of having to continue living with whatever time you had left not at your fullest caused knots to tighten in your stomach. 

As your eyes flitted over Daryl’s face, you saw him swallow hard, clearly feeling the weight of your words. Slowly, the archer rested his hand over the hand you had rested on his chest. With a silent hitch of your breath, you swore he was about to remove your hand, and you could feel your heart beginning to break at the anticipation. However, when you felt his large hand press down, keeping you there, and his fingers curl around yours, you felt your muscles relax and your breathing return to normal.

“You’re actin’ like it’s a chore to have your back or to care about ya, and it ain’t. I just–don gotta think about it…never had to, really.”

For a moment, you shut your eyes as you felt Daryl sweep hair from out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. When you opened them again, you were instantly met with Daryl’s bright eyes searching your face. With a bashful stifle of a laugh, you raised your free hand to your face and brushed at your cheek with the sleeve of your shirt as if you were wiping away phantom tears. 

“I don’t think I wanna waste another second of whatever time I’ve got left…at this rate, there’s probably not much left.”

With a dismissive scoff, Daryl squeezed his hand around yours. “Don say stuff like that…I ain’t got any more inspirin’ words left to say.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at the teasing lilt in his voice. You felt your hand press down on his chest for balance as your body leaned back with your laughs. Daryl could feel a rather boyish grin begin to stretch across his face due to the sight of seeing your once somber face become enriched with contagious light again. 

“Maybe when we get back home I’ll have more to say.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmm–don’t really wanna mess up tellin’ ya how I feel ‘bout ya, either.”

With a grin so bright that Daryl was convinced could challenge and win against the sun, you enlaced your hand in his, and began to lead him out of the bathroom. 

“We should get going then.”

-

-

Everything was going fine, swimmingly really; you had managed to find enough supplies in the rundown store to almost completely fill up your backpack. Maybe it was because you felt the need to prove something to yourself and to your community, or maybe it was your ego, but you wanted to return with an overflowing bag of supplies that you’d have trouble hauling back. So, you decided to check the stockroom that was in the back of the store.

And that’s when everything went to shit.

Unbeknownst to you, the storage room was filled with lurkers. Your knock on the metal door did nothing to gain their attention, so you advanced inwards with the impression that the room was clear. Before you could even turn your flashlight on, your fresh and alive scent had awoken the once stupor walkers, causing them to instantaneously lunge at you. There wasn’t time to fight them off with the hunting knife Daryl had gifted you; there were too many of them and they were moving abnormally fast. The only option you had was to run. With grunts and curses escaping past your lips, you pushed shelves and debris into the walkers path as you tried to get to the exit. The heavy backpack strapped to your back lumped painfully against you with each jolt of movement you made. At one point, you felt like a cartoon character; sliding around the tiled floor while trying to maneuver around the walkers that were now breaking out of line and beginning to crowd around you.

Eventually though, after barricading the exit door, you made it out of the store, unscathed. The last thing you wanted was for the walkers to follow you home, and you were not going to jeopardize your family. You ran into the woods until you couldn’t breathe anymore. Once at a safe enough distance away from the convenience store, you nearly collapsed against a tree; one arm pressed against the ridged trunk to keep you upright, and the other holding onto your hip. Breathy curses escaped from your mouth, feeling the ache of your heaving chest and burning lungs. Sweat lined your forehead, and you were sure the back of your shirt had a giant sweat stain on it. Without even having to look, you knew your hair had turned into an unruly mess, with loose strands either stuck to your sweaty skin or sticking out in odd places. 

Needing some comfort, the hand that was once resting on your hip rose to your chest. Blindly, your fingers searched for the familiar locket that hung from your neck. Inside held the last remaining picture of your mother, and you often turned to look at the beautiful picture whenever you needed a little pick-me-up. If you wanted to get back to Alexandria, alive and in one piece, you figured looking at the image of your mom would help get you there. 

When your fingers couldn’t locate the metal locket, you felt the blood coursing through your veins run cold, and your once heavy breaths get stuck in your throat. For a moment, you weren’t breathing, moving, or even fully conscious. Much like the walkers, you suddenly found yourself in a stupor of your own. Slowly, almost as if you were trying to evade the inevitable, you lowered your gaze to your neckline. When you saw nothing hanging from your neck, an electric shock shot up your spine, bringing you back to life.

Explicits spilled out of your mouth as you desperately felt yourself up and down with your hands, hoping that the necklace caught on the material of your clothes or even the straps of your backpack when it fell from your neck. Instead of panting breaths, you were now breathing rapidly in and out of your nose. It was borderline hyperventilating.

“Shit!” You shouted in a panic as you began surveying the surrounding ground when the search on your person became futile.

Unable to concede, you retraced your steps back to the convenience store. You knew you couldn’t go far, unless you wanted to get lost in a small—but deadly—horde of walkers, but you hoped—prayed—that the locket had fallen off you as you were running away from the store instead of when you were still in the store. You must have upturned every rock and leaf in your path as you trekked back towards your previous location. Desperation took control of your body now, and you pushed your luck by even scoping the outside of the store. The famished walkers pounded against the glass windows with their rotten hands and stalked you as you paced up and down the store. If you didn’t leave now, you feared the walkers would break through the glass.

Salty tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you stared at the walkers. For a moment, you thought about going back in and getting the last piece of your mother that you had left, but knew it would practically be suicide if you did so. With a heavy heart and tears blurring your vision, you turned your back to the store, and your mother, and headed back towards the direction of Alexandria. Wherever she was, you hoped she understood. 

By the time you reached Alexandria, the sun was already in the midst of setting. The suburban houses that resided inside the protected walls had a golden glow reflecting off of the vinyl sidings that protected them from the wrath of nature. If you weren’t still in a near debilitating stupor, you would have thought the sight was pretty. You were hoping to return with a pep in your step, proud of the bounty you had found for the community; but instead, you could barely hold yourself upright due to the massive amount of grief that was weighing you down.

As you neared your home, you could see that the lights of your front porch were on, and that Daryl was sitting in his usual spot on the wooden railing, sharpening his knives and arrows as he waited for you to return. Before gaining his attention, you tried to straighten out your posture and hold your head up just a little higher. Your seemingly neutral facade was nearly foolproof, but the archer was eerily intuitive, and knew by just once glance at you that something wasn’t right. Daryl couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly, and aside from the sweat stained shirt and messy hair, something just seemed off about your appearance. 

“Find anythin’ good?” Daryl asked as he watched you slump the backpack off your shoulders and plop down on the railing across from him.

For a moment, you could only shrug your shoulders as you were having a hard time finding your voice. Whether it was from shame or just the mere knowledge that you’d break the second you looked at him, your eyes couldn’t meet his. Instead, you kept your gaze planted on your clasped hands that were placed in your lap. “Got a couple of things…I’ll bring the bag to Olivia later.”

Daryl hummed in acknowledgment, taking note of the unusual weight in your voice when you spoke, and solemn demeanor. The archer let his eyes linger on you for a few more moments before turning back to his knives. Daryl wasn’t one to push touchy subjects, and knew you’d talk when you were ready.  

“Ya went to Cal’s?” Daryl asked, referring to the only convenience store he knew of that was within walking distance. You could only nod your head in confirmation as a response.

With each second of silence that passed, you could feel the protective walls within you begin to crack. Despite how comfortable the silence was between you and Daryl, it allowed the reality of your loss to set in. Slowly, you let your head rest against the column behind you, and stared up at the darkening sky. You didn’t know how much more of the silence you could take.

“I lost it.” 

Your voice was shaky and defeated when you spoke. When Daryl averted his gaze off his knives and to your face, he could see tears pooling in your eyes. Despite how vague your statement was, it suddenly clicked to Daryl why you seemed so off. When the archer lowered his gaze to your neckline, and didn’t see the locket, he felt his stomach drop. Daryl knew how much you valued that picture of your mother, and couldn’t even imagine what kind of pain was currently coursing through you. 

“It’s actually kinda funny…” You trailed off as an empty smile uplifted the corners of your mouth. With the back of your hand, you wiped at your eyes. “I had been meaning to replace the chain it was on, since it’s so old and felt like it was on its last leg…I just hadn’t been able to find any materials for it.”

You suddenly looked so small; with your knees held tightly to your chest, and your teeth biting into your quivering bottom lip in an attempt to conceal the cries you so desperately wanted to let out. Daryl felt pains shoot through his chest, and guessed it was just the physical sensation of his heart breaking.

“Do ya know where it fell?” The archer inquired with as much of a soft voice as his naturally gravelly tone could allow. 

“Somewhere in the store that’s filled with walkers.” Admitting it out loud caused you to inhale sharply, as your lungs felt like they were tightening and not getting enough oxygen.

The irony wasn’t lost on Daryl, and he couldn’t help but scoff at it. Setting his arrows aside, and placing his knives back in their sheathes, Daryl stood up from the railing with a grunt and shuffled over to you. He couldn’t take looking at that defeated and lost look in your eyes any longer. 

“C’mere.” With a shake of his hand, he motioned you towards his opened arms. 

At the gesture, your eyes and sinuses began to sting with oncoming tears. Without hesitating, you got off the railing and wrapped your arms around Daryl’s torso. Your face was buried in his shoulder, and you practically melted at the warmth that was emitting from his comforting embrace. Daryl’s arms were wrapped protectively around your body, and one of his hands stroked your hair. A few tears escaped from your waterline, and you felt the need to squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to stop any more liquid from staining Daryl’s shirt.

“M’sorry.” Daryl empathized after placing a kiss on the crown of your head. 

“I’ll be okay…eventually.” You reassured him, and maybe even yourself, with a sniffle. Pulling a few inches away from the archer, you wiped your face with the back of your hand. “It just really sucks right now.”

With barely any sunlight left in the sky, the temperature was beginning to drop. The last thing Daryl wanted to see was your shivering body on top of your sadness. “C’mon—let’s get ya inside and somethin’ to eat, alright?” Daryl suggested in a gentle tone while jutting a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the front door of the house. Reaching down, the archer grabbed a hold of your backpack as you began to pull away from him.

After a final sniffle of your nose and nod of your head, you allowed Daryl to lead you inside. The rest of the night was quiet; you showered off all the sweat and tears that had dried onto your body, ate the leftovers from last night’s dinner, and turned in for the night early due to the mental and physical exhaustion from the day’s events. Daryl tried to do everything he knew of to comfort you, but how do you comfort someone who is freshly grieving the loss of their mother for the first time? To you, having that locket in your possession, and being able to look at her face every single day, made the pain of missing her just a little bit more easier to manage. Without it, it felt like it was difficult to prolong that sadness and grief.

Daryl couldn’t stand to see you so distraught, it kept him tossing and turning for most of the night. Selfishly, he wanted to see the bright smile on your face again that always made your entire essence glow. In order to do that, he’d have to go to the convenience store that was filled with walkers. It was risky, possibly even a suicide mission, but Daryl cared more about your happiness than himself.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to awake in the morning to an empty bed. Daryl was an early riser, and inherently, liked getting an early start to his day. A part of you wished he had stayed in bed with you, just this once so you didn’t have to be alone with only an empty house and your depressing thoughts to keep you company; but you also didn’t want to drag Daryl down into your sorrow. So, you tried to keep yourself busy around the house by completing mundane chores as you waited for Daryl to return from whatever Daryl-things he was doing. 

Although that empty feeling in your stomach, and heavy weight on your chest was still prominent, the chores did help distract you for a while. When the pang of missing your mother began to become too hard to ignore again, you decided to sit outside on the porch with a glass of water and a generic interior design magazine to flip through. You hoped the fresh air would help clear your head. 

Before you knew it, the familiar sound of a rumbling motorcycle engine began to sound from up the street. Jumping to your feet, you watched as Daryl pulled into the driveway. Squinting through the blaring sunlight, you noticed dirt, grime, and gore covering the archer from head to toe. Within seconds, you were jumping the front steps of your home and running over to him; worried that something awful had happened during his presumed hunting trip. “Daryl!? What happened!”

It felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest, and it became difficult for your lungs to retain oxygen. You felt like you had just run a mile instead of only a few feet. With bated breath, you bounced uneasily in your spot as you watched Daryl slowly dismount from his bike. With the blood in your ears sounding like deafening alarms, you had to strain to hear Daryl’s grunts of discomfort as he walked towards you. Whatever had happened, it was clear that he had overexerted himself far beyond his limits. 

“I did somethin’ a little stupid.” Daryl rubbed the back of his neck as he stood in front of you. His eyes couldn’t meet yours, in fear of the scolding he was sure he would receive. 

“Clearly,” You deadpanned with crossed arms. Your once near debilitatingly worried demeanor had shifted to annoyed upon Daryl’s admission. Although you were relieved he was alright and back in one piece, you were upset he had put himself in danger for who knows what. “What happened?” 

You had expected him to tell you that he had willingly followed a buck into a horde of walkers, unable to accept the idea of coming back empty handed, or that some wild turkeys had unknowingly led him to walkers. What you didn’t expect was Daryl to hold out his hand with your locket sporting a new chain hanging from his fingers. 

Instead of being caught in a fear-induced stupor, you were now in a stupor of shock. You could only stare with unblinking eyes as the locket dangled in the air, the metal glistening due to the sun’s reflection. You couldn’t breath, move, and you weren’t even sure if your blood was pumping at the moment, as your brain tried to process how your locket was in Daryl’s possession.

“I made sure the picture of your mom was still in there ‘fore leavin’…wasn’t sure if the locket broke open or not when it fell from ya.” Daryl explained while scratching his blood stained beard with his equally blood stained hand. When you remained unresponsive, Daryl felt the need to say more. “And—uh—I found a pawn shop nearby n’snagged a new chain off some kinda diamond necklace. I know it don’t match the locket, but I can go to a jewelry store or somethin’ and-“

Before the archer had a chance to finish, you practically threw yourself at him and held on to his broad frame for dear life. An onslaught of salty tears streamed down your cheeks and uncontrollable sobs filled with relief and gratitude fell from your mouth. Slowly, Daryl felt his muscles relax, and he carefully wrapped his arms around your shaking frame. Letting his chin rest on your shoulder, the archer kept his gaze on the locket; which he tightened his grip around as he didn’t want to risk it becoming lost again.

“H-How? Why?” You stuttered against the fabric of his shirt once your cries had subsided and the flow of tears had been reduced.

“A whole lotta willpower s’all,” Daryl shrugged his shoulders as he took a moment to re-scratched that invisible itch on his chin again. With a bashful look overtaking his usually stoic face, Daryl tightened his hold on you as emotion suddenly swelled up his chest. “I just…couldn’t see ya so sad anymore. Anything’s worth seein’ ya smile again.”

“Even fighting through a horde of walkers?” You asked while looking up at his handsome face. There was a lightness to your voice, and a smile began to twitch at the corners of your mouth as you wiped the tears from your face.

“Two actually…” Daryl trailed off as his gaze averted yours once again. “One at the convenience store and the other at the pawn shop.”

“Daryl Dixon! I am not worth two hordes of walkers!” You exclaimed while lightly swatting his chest with the palm of your hand. Despite the scolding, a smile was beginning to break through the permanent frown that was once glued to your face. 

“Sure ya are…worth ‘bout a hundred really.” Daryl stated matter of factly as he puffed his chest in pride. With a roll of your eyes, you took a step away from him.

“Come on my knight, I think inhaling all that walker stench is making you delusional.” You teased while lightly nudging him towards the house.

“Hold up–” Stopping you with a hand on your arm, Daryl gently turned you so your back was facing him. Your knees almost gave out from under you as you felt the familiar weight of your locket drape around your neck and rest on your chest. Once you heard the clasp lock, your hands flew to the locket and your fingers tentatively opened the pendent. A lopsided smile graced Daryl’s face as he took a moment to admire the locket being back in its rightful spot again once he positioned himself in front of you. “That looks ‘bout right.”

Your teeth bit down on your bottom lip as it began to quiver as you looked down at the picture of your mother. Even though it had only been less than a day, it had felt like an eternity since you had last seen her face. Fresh liquid welled up in your eyes again as you took in the identifiable facial features that you shared with your mother. With the locket still grasped in your hands, you brought your gaze up towards Daryl. “Thank you, Daryl…I-I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

A scoff escaped past Daryl’s lips and he shook his head fiercely. Taking one step towards you, Daryl placed both of his hands on your shoulders and gave you a squeeze with each hand. His earnest stare seemed to be looking into you until he reached your soul. As comforting as it was, it was also incredibly daunting. “Ya got nothin’ to repay me for, alright?” With the serious look he was giving you, you couldn’t help but nod along in agreement.

“Good…now tell me again ‘bout those delusions ya think I got?”

With a laugh and lighthearted shake of your head, you nudged Daryl forwards towards your home. Your hand remained clasped around the most valuable object you owned as you ventured back inside. As Daryl began to strip himself of his soiled clothes (which you were going to burn later that day) you made a silent oath to yourself that you’d never lose the irreplaceable locket again. 

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