#grimes!reader

As Shane spoke, his large palm was clasped over your mouth, and he drove into you from behind. He had you bent over the bathroom counter and your bare chest was pressed against the cool marble. Rick, your father, and the rest of your family were in the backyard for a barbecue. You’d had a moment to sneak away with his best friend and Shane was taking full advantage of that. You took a ragged breath and answered him, your voice was muffled.

“N-no, sir.”

“That’s what I thought. Keep those pretty lips sealed.”

He didn’t want you to speak, so you simply hummed in agreement. Shane’s free hand was holding you in place, while he continued to thrust his thick cock in and out of your cunt. He was trying to keep it down, but low grunts kept escaping from his throat. Finding his release, he didn’t wait for you to reach yours before roughly pulling out. You cried out in frustration, but sharp tug to your hair made you stop. His voice was firm when he spoke again.

“Hush, bunny.”

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Then your mother was grabbing your arm, mumbling about Carl who was sitting back at the car with Sophia, Carol and her asshole of a husband who you had met while trying to reach the evacuation center.

Not a few weeks later and Shane had become unofficial leader of a small group of survivors, your family included.

The lot of you had set up around a quarry and after getting settled, you were all given jobs. You were in charge of keeping an eye on the kids when their mother’s were busy, and just generally helping out where you could.

You didn’t mind the kids, the job giving you more time to bond with your brother, Carl.

Before the apocalypse you were a high school senior, and Carl was an elementary student. While the two of you didn’t dislike the other, between school and your part time job it was hard to bond with him. But after the loss of your father and the start of the apocalypse, the two of you were never seen apart. You’d be damned if you lost him too.

“We’re heading out.” Glenn’s voice spoke from behind you, making you flinch and breaking you from your thoughts

You turned towards him, flicking the front of his baseball cap. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Glenn had been the first person that you had formed a relationship with outside of your small family circle. The two of you were close in age, with a similar sense of humor and taste in music. He was always kind, always asking if you needed anything or helping you round up the kids when needed.

Shane liked to tease the two of you, as did Dale, but the relationship between you two was always on the platonic side. Glenn was like the older brother you never had.

“Sorry.” He replied with a sheepish smile. “You need anything while we’re out?”

You thought for a moment. “If you find anything for the kids that would be great. Oh, and we’re running low on feminine products. If you just tell Andrea she should know what to get.”

“Got it, we’ll be back in a few hours.” He turned to walk away but you were quick to grab his arm, giving him a tight hug that he was quick to reciprocate.

“Be safe, and come back.” You muttered, and he nodded, giving you one last tight squeeze before running off to find the others he’d be leaving with.

“Don’t I get a hug, sweetheart?”

Merle Dixon’s voice rang out from behind you. A racist pig who got on everyone’s nerves and pushed his younger brother around like a slave. Something he’d probably been doing since before the apocalypse.

You opened your mouth to respond to him, but someone else beat you to it.

“Leave ‘er alone, Merle. She’s just a kid.” Daryl grumbled from behind his brother.

“Ah, don’t worry little brother, she’s eighteen. It’s completely legal.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“I’d rather sleep with a walker.” You muttered. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, anyways?” You pointed to Glenn, who was waving Merle’s way.

“Conversation ain’t over sweetheart.” Merle quipped before hurrying away.

“It definitely is.” You muttered as you rolled your eyes before turning towards Daryl, who gave you a sheepish look.

“Sorry bout him.” He mumbled.

You hummed. “Not your fault, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

He stayed silent.

“You going hunting?” You asked.

He nodded. “Was just about to head out.”

“Perfect, give me one second.” You turned away from, grabbing the satchel that sat on ground beside you and rifling through it. You pulled out a bundle of newspapers, letting the satchel drop back to the ground as you handed it to Daryl.

He took it from you, peeling back the paper to peak inside.

“Fish?” He questioned.

“Amy and Andrea caught a lot yesterday. I cooked a couple pieces for you last night.” You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. “I know you usually go hunting when Merle leaves and I thought you’re probably sick of raw squirrel, so I made you something else to eat. Should last for a day or two.”

He sent a soft smile your way, bundling the paper up once more before bringing his hand up to ruffle your hair. “Thanks, kid.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Daryl went off, heading into the woods with his fish and crossbow. It wasn’t long before you were turning back to your task at hand, which was finding Amy and Andrea more bait for fishing.

As you bent down to dig your fingers into the soil of the ground to search for worms, small arms wrapped around your waist.

You let out a soft chuckle. “Need something, Carl?”

“Watcha’ doing?” He asked.

“Looking for worms, wanna help?”

“Yes! Wait, no. Dale sent me to look for mom so I gotta find her first.” He replied. “Do you know where she is?”

“I believe she’s looking for firewood. Why don’t you let her do that, while we look for worms. You can catch her when she comes back.” You responded, and with a quick glance around and no sign of Shane, you knew where she really was.

You weren’t an idiot, you knew of the relationship between Shane and your mother. She was terrible at hiding it, if you were honest.

You didn’t exactly like it, but you didn’t hate it. You trusted Shane, had grown up with him. He was there when you were born, had seen every low and high you’d faced, even took you joyriding in his cruiser when you got a license. And when you got dumped in sophomore year, he was there to take you out to dinner and a movie before bringing you to egg the asshole’s house.

He was also there when your dad got shot and he had then been the one to tell you that your father died. Shane was the reason you’d survived so long and you couldn’t thank him enough.

He was a good man, a great man, but he wasn’t your father. It also wasn’t your decision who your mother slept with, so you did the responsible thing and kept your opinion to yourself.

“If you find more than ten I’ll let you keep one, deal?” Carl beamed at the idea, instantly kneeling to the ground and ripping up dirt.

You laughed, ruffling his hair before doing your own search for the slimy critters.

A few hours passed, the sun beginning to settle when you started getting antsy.

You had filled two small pails of worms thanks to Carl, colored with Sophia and even had time to do a load of laundry.

Amy was sick with worry and her anxiety wasn’t making you feel any better. You knew the few of your people that had gone out to scavenge should’ve been back by now and you couldn’t help but think of the worst possibilities.

As you clipped the last wet shirt in your hand onto a clothesline, voices reached your ears.

“Is it them? Are they back?” Amy asked, and it was then you heard the alarm of a car.

You made your way over, the other group members making their way along with you.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Dale muttered as he looked through his binoculars.

“What is it?” Amy asked.

“A stolen car is my guess.” He replied.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and turned to see your mother who was holding Carl’s hand with Shane standing right behind her.

A red sports car blaring it’s alarm pulled up next to the RV Dale owned, and the group was quick to make their ways towards it.

Glenn came out, grinning from ear to ear.

“Holy crap, turn that damn thing off!” Dale chastised as Shane made his way to the front of the car.

“I don’t know how!” Glenn replied and you had to stifle your laugh.

“Would you pop the damn hood, please?” Shane called as Amy ran over, questioning Glenn about her sister’s whereabouts.

When Glenn didn’t answer, Shane repeated himself, this time with more authority.

“Okay, okay!” Glenn quickly popped the hood of the car.

“Is she okay? Where is she?” Amy pushed.

“She’s all right, she’s okay!”

“Is she coming back? Why isn’t she with you?”

You made your way to Amy, grabbing ahold of her arm gently. “Relax, he said she’s okay so she’s okay.” You assured her.

“She’s fine, everyone is fine.” Glenn spoke. “Well, Merle not so much.”

Before you could speak, Shane was quick to cut you off. “Are you crazy, driving this wailing bastard up here? Are you trying to draw every walker for miles?”

“I think we’re okay.” You muttered, and Shane sent a glare towards you.

“You call being stupid okay?”

“Well the alarm was echoing all over these hills, hard to pinpoint the source.” Dale pointed out, coming to your rescue.

Shane’s hardened expression switched to him, and Dale put his hands up in surrender. “I’m not arguing, I’m just saying. But it wouldn’t hurt you to think things through more carefully next time.”

He pointed towards Glenn, who muttered out a sorry. “Got a cool car though.” He said with a smile, gesturing towards the red vehicle.

It was then that a truck approached, pulling up behind the sports car.

You watched the rest of your group exit the vehicle, Andrea running towards Amy and Morales making his way towards his family.

Jackie and T-Dog were next but Merle was nowhere to be seen.

“How’d y’all get out of there anyways?” Shane questioned and Glenn was quick to respond.

“New guy, he got us out.”

Your brows furrowed as Shane asked your unanswered question. “New guy?”

“Yeah,” Morales replied. “crazy vato just got into town.” He turned towards the truck. “Hey helicopter boy! Come say hello!” He yelled.

You watched as the man stepped out of the truck and your heart stopped.

The hair, the face, the uniform. It couldn’t be. There’s no way, it couldn’t be real.

You couldn’t move, couldn’t even comprehend what was happening as you watched your father exit the truck, hand going over his mouth as he caught sight of your brother.

“Dad!? Dad!” Carl screamed, and then he was running.

Your father scooped him up, tears falling from his eyes as the two fell to the ground in their embrace.

“Oh my god.” Your father cried.

He stood, arms around your brother who had latched onto him as your mother made her way over.

You watched, standing stone still in your spot as he embraced her, squeezing the two tightly.

“Y/N? Where’s Y/N?” He asked, gaze drifting around before his eyes landed on you.

You blinked. “Dad?” You croaked, and it was like a dam broke. Tears flooded your eyes as you rushed towards him.

Carl let go of him, stepping out of the way as you barreled into your father. Rick’s arms wrapped tightly around you as you shook, gasping in lungfuls of air between sobs as he held you.

“I thought… Shane said…” But you couldn’t finish your sentence, burying your face into the crook of his neck and holding onto him with all the strength in your body, as if letting him go would cause him to float away.

“It’s okay.” He shushed, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “I’m here.”

"I said I'm comin' with ya," he repeated, his tone possibly more stubborn than hers. "You ain't goin' all the way to King by yerself."

She scoffed and turned back around, ignoring him in favor of packing her things. "Daryl Dixon, I never thought I'd see the day." Rolling her eyes, she continued. "I have to find Rick and nobody's changin' my mind."

"Didn't say I was tryin' to."

"I'm not taking you with me," she decided, swinging her back over her shoulder and looking back at him.

"Can't stop me," he glared.

She almost laughed. "The group needs you here more than I do. I won't be long and hopefully I'll have the dumbass with me when I get back."

"They can go without me," he suggested.

(Y/N) shook her head. "We both know they need the food you get from hunting. Stay here."

She went to leave the tent, but was stopped when he grabbed her arm. The smallest gasp left her lips. He'd never touched her before, not in the slightest. He'd never touched anybody except maybe Merle, who he'd smacked on the arm last week.

Since bringing Daryl and Merle Dixon into this group, (Y/N) was a lot less busy than she had been at the start. They brought in a good amount of food from the woods and she couldn't thank them enough for that. They were irritating as hell, mostly Merle, who nobody in their right mind liked. Daryl, on the other hand, was perfectly tolerable. 

(Y/N) found herself hunting with him more often than not, actually. He was quiet, but so was she. His company was preferable to Shane's, that bastard.

"You would go through hell for Merle, wouldn't you?" She asked him suddenly, meeting his gaze evenly.

Though Daryl paused, he nodded. "And back."

"Then you know why I have to do this," she said, pulling his hand off her arm.

"That's why I'm goin with ya," he said again. "Nobody should go through hell alone."

Now that had her hesitating. She'd never taken him for the sweet type. By the look on his face, though, even he was shocked by his own words. He almost looked like he wanted to take them back.

"I'll be back soon. You stay here with Merle and the others," she said again. "If I'm not back in three days, then you can come after me."

"And you won't be pissed?"

She snorted. "Didn't say that." She bit her lip a little, sighing. "Just stay, okay? I need someone to be here that isn't Shane."

"Don't trust him?"

"Not anymore," she almost growled. "Sick fuck left my brother to die. Who knows what he'll do if we don't keep an eye on him?"

Daryl nodded at that. "I'll watch him."

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice surprisingly genuine.

After Shane told her that he hadn't, in fact, watched Rick die with his own two eyes, (Y/N)'s list of people she could trust was getting shorter. She always had Lori and Carl, that was for sure, but it wasn't like they would be much use except for emotional comfort.

At least now she could depend on Daryl and maybe even Merle if he was willing to help his little brother out. The others in the camp were trustworthy, too, she supposed, but not when it came to Shane. They listened to him. That was dangerous.

(Y/N) had hoped she could trust her brother's best friend since childhood in the wake of the apocalypse, but that plan had fallen out from under her feet. People in this camp trusted her, they listened to her, but they listened to him more. And after what he admitted to doing, she wasn't sure if she could do that anymore. It was better for her to leave, to go searching for her brother. Daryl would keep an eye on Carl and Lori and there wouldn't be any leadership disputes, at least not until she returned.

"You should tell the kid what's goin' on," Daryl suggested after a quiet moment. "He'll wanna know why his Aunt (Y/N) and Uncle Shane are shoutin'."

(Y/N) sighed deeply. "I know. I wish he hadn't seen that."

Daryl shrugged. "Might be better if he knows you and Shane ain't gettin' along. More likely to listen to ya."

"Maybe. Doesn't mean it won't hurt," she admitted. Shaking her head, she took a step out of the tent, Daryl following her. "Just do me a favor and keep an eye on 'em, Dixon."

"Yeah, well, you do me a favor and don't die out there," he shot back.

She laughed a little despite herself. "I'll try not to." Then, she turned to him, her tone serious. "Three days," she repeated. "Three days before you come lookin', okay?"

"Okay."

“I’ll hold you to it, too, Dixon. Don’t be late.”

He snorted as she went to leave, or at least find Carl so she could say goodbye.

I'm on my way, Rick, she thought as she left. I'm on my way.

  That was four days ago.

Daryl had it in his head to leave yesterday, but then Officer Friendly informed him of Merle being missing and suddenly it was a double rescue mission. Of course, Daryl would probably regret trying to beat Rick up when (Y/N) came back, but in the moment, he'd wanted to make him pay for leaving his brother.

To be honest, part of his fury came from the fact that he would never have done that to Rick's sister. So how come he did it to Merle? Well...Merle could be a jackass. Fair enough.

The day the group was going to leave, Daryl overheard Rick and Shane.

"This ain't a good idea. Merle ain't worth it," Shane was trying to say-- again.

Daryl scoffed as he passed. "Sure, Merle ain't worth it. But (Y/N)'s been gone three days. Oughta start lookin' for her down there."

Rick's eyes widened. "(Y/N)?"

That was when it hit Daryl-- Shane's guilty face, Rick's absolute horror.

"He's been here two days and you didn't say shit!?" Daryl accused instantly. He turned to Rick then. "Yer little sister's been lookin' for ya by herself. She said she'd be back four damn days ago. I was s'posed to look for her after three."

So, a rescue mission it was.

Shane was shocked that Daryl was meaning to go after (Y/N), as was...pretty much everyone else. But he ignored them. As soon as they were in the city and found Merle's hand, Daryl was pretty sure they were going to move on to (Y/N).

They were searching the building where they left Merle. Daryl split from the others when he heard movement down a hallway. He paused by the corner and took a deep breath.

He swung around the corner, coming face to face with a loaded pistol.

"Jesus, Daryl," came (Y/N)'s breath of relief. "Might've warned me."

He dropped his crossbow instantly. "Yer an idiot."

"Thanks, missed you, too," she sassed. "After yesterday I didn't actually expect you to find me."

Daryl frowned. "Shit happened. Run into Atlanta went wrong-- your bitchass brother handcuffed mine to a roof."

(Y/N)'s face lit up immediately. "Rick? Rick's with you?"

Daryl almost smiled at her joy, but shoved it aside when he was reminded of his own brother. Sure, they found hers, but his was missing. Talk about a trade off.

He led her down the hall where he left the others and as soon as they turned the corner, she was sprinting at the turned back of her brother. Rick turned right at the last second and caught a massive, tearful hug from her. She clutched the back of his shirt fiercely and buried her head in the crook of his neck.

"Jackass," she muttered.

Rick, voice breaking somewhat, replied: "Dumbass. What were you doing-- looking for me by yourself? What about Carl and Lori?"

"Daryl said he'd watch 'em for me," she said, pulling out of the hug.

"You could've at least taken Shane."

(Y/N) scoffed. "Yeah, right. After what he did?" She shook her head and punched his arm fondly. "Whatever. I'm glad you're okay, loser."

Rick rolled his eyes and reached forward to ruffle her hair, but she shoved him away.

Daryl watched in bitter, spiteful silence, gripping his crossbow tightly. He would have given anything in that moment to have his brother back. And when (Y/N) looked back at him, nodding, he knew she understood.

Through hell, she’d expressed silently.

And back, he’d replied.

  Days-- maybe weeks-- later, Daryl was pulling away. He went out nearly every day searching for Sophia. It was an unspoken agreement between him and (Y/N) that she would let him do it. She understood why.

"It's because you didn't go after your brother, isn't it?" She asked him one day.

"What?"

She took a deep breath. "You search for Sophia to make up for not going to look for your brother. You wouldn't leave us to go look for him and now it's eating at you."

"Maybe," he muttered, mostly trying to ignore her. "What's it matter?"

"You stayed to take care of the group. You're not a bad brother for not looking for Merle," she tried to reassure. "There's nothing you could have done."

That was when he stopped replying, grabbing one of the Greene's horses from the stables. He intended to go out again that day, to spend hours looking for a little girl who was probably dead. (Y/N) would let him, like she always did.

"One day," she said, making him stop.

"Huh?"

She smiled a little. "One day. You don't come back, I'm gonna come looking for your ugly ass."

He snorted, mounting the horse. "Yeah, good luck with that."

He rode off, leaving (Y/N) to worry about his return. Every hour that he didn't come back was another hour spent worrying. As it began to get later, she was completely on edge. Rick asked her what was wrong, but she couldn't find the words to tell him. He already had enough on his plate as it was.

When she and the others ran toward the walker on the edge of the field and she recognised it as a person, she nearly collapsed with relief.

And then the gunshot rang out.

(Y/N) was on Andrea as soon as Daryl was in the house. She got in a nasty right hook before Rick ripped her off the woman, yelling at her to calm down.

"I oughta kill you!" (Y/N) spat.

Okay, so leadership wasn't going so great these days, at least with Andrea and Shane. Everybody else looked to her for a neutral point of view in the wake of the Shane v. Rick thing going on. Punching Andrea might not have ended up changing that, either. Most would probably be on (Y/N)'s side in that.

"You just HAD to pull the trigger, huh?"

"I thought he was a walker!" Andrea tried to say. "I was protecting the camp!"

(Y/N) scoffed. "Oh, yeah, shoot the walker even though there's a whole group of us staring it in the face. It wasn't trying to eat us and even if it was, we could have handled it. You just had to play hero, didn't you?" With that said, she stalked off, spitting on Andrea's boot as she went.

"Jesus," she heard Shane mutter.

"Oh, shut the hell up," she snapped at him as she went. "I'll slug you next."

Okay, maybe Daryl was bringing out a little more vicious side of her. But to be completely fair, somebody had to be vicious with those assholes. She was just giving them what they deserved.

(Y/N) made her way to Daryl's room, pulling a chair up to his bed. "How are you?" She asked.

"Fine," he mumbled.

"I know you're not," she sniffed. "What happened out there?"

He was silent for a while. It took him a good hour to open up, to admit he'd found the doll but that the horse had thrown him. (Y/N) listened the whole time, just waiting for him to admit to what was really bothering him.

"Thought I saw Merle," he finally sighed.

Her gaze softened. "We'll find him, Daryl. I promised you we would."

"Ain't happenin' anytime soon."

"Maybe not. But it'll happen eventually," she said.

She reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. She wanted to go for his hand, but decided against it at the last second. Despite stiffening at first, Daryl eased into her touch, basking in the silence that surrounded them.

When he found out about Andrea, he laughed about it for days. He'd never let her live that one down. Sure, she was willing to do anything for Rick, but was Rick willing to go through Andrea for her? Because it seemed like the bitch was holding a grudge.

Rick brought it up to Daryl, who shrugged him off. "I'll deal with Andrea" he said. "You just focus on the rest of it."

Rick, of course, had no idea what he meant. But (Y/N) did.

  When Daryl came back from searching for Merle alone, (Y/N) knew something had happened. He shoved past everyone to get to a guard tower and be alone. Everyone left him that way, for the most part. (Y/N), of course, dared to lean in the doorway of the guard tower he had chosen, staring at him thoughtfully.

"Hey," she greeted simply.

"Go away."

She shook her head and moved inside just slightly. "What happened out there?"

"Nothin'," he spat. "Can't ya leave it alone?"

"I'm not leaving you alone, not like this," was her instant reply. "Are you okay?"

His voice cracked when he said: "Piss off."

"Where's Merle?"

With that question, he let out a small sob. (Y/N)'s heart broke as she heard it. She'd never meant to push. For a second, she was sure he was just pissed, but now she realised that he was hurting. Something had happened to Merle and he was in immense pain.

She crossed the room and sat on his cot beside him. "Oh God, Daryl, I'm so sorry."

He cried harder, burying his face in his hands. His shoulders shook and (Y/N) drew him into a hug despite her initial instinct to run. She couldn't let him go through this-- not alone.

After a hesitant moment, he hugged her back, drowning his tears in her jacket. She held him tightly, running a hand through his hair.

"I know it's rough," she said quietly. "I know it hurts and right now it feels like it won't ever stop. It might not. But you're gonna be okay. Merle went through hell and back for you, just like you would have for him. He did it so you could be here right now."

"Bastard," he spat just loud enough that she could hear.

(Y/N) snorted and nodded. "Yeah, you'll feel like that, too." She paused. "This is what it was like when Rick got shot. I know it's not the same, Daryl, but I understand what you're feeling right now."

He hesitated to speak, the words catching in his throat when he finally came up with them. Well, it. It was one word, one question.

"Stay?"

(Y/N) knew that Daryl was hating himself right now, hating how pitiful that sounded. It nearly broke her heart to hear from him, something so soft and so broken. She hugged him tight, vowing to herself not to let go until he was ready.

"I'm gonna be here until you get sick of me. I promise."

  The prison fell. Of course it did. They could never have anything good for longer than a few months. That was how the world was.

Daryl, (Y/N), and Beth managed to stay together, to stay afloat for a while. But then they lost Beth. God, that almost killed Daryl. (Y/N) was dragging him along more often than not, trying to convince him to keep going. When she mentioned that Rick was still out there, that Carl and Judith were still out there, he picked up the pace.

The Claimers almost killed her when they ran into them. Somehow, though, their leader was convinced she could be useful. Daryl and (Y/N) joined their ranks, though regretfully. They both detested the way they looked at (Y/N), like she was a piece of meat. It made her skin crawl and Daryl glared at everyone who even dared to glance her way. 

They kept calling him her boyfriend. He didn't correct them, maybe thinking it would be safer for her if they thought so. Maybe he just wanted them to.

"Look," Daryl was telling her one night when the others were asleep, "we're gonna find 'em. Bound to run into 'em sometime."

"You don't know that," she muttered.

It had been days and she was losing hope by the minute. Her brother, her nephew, and her niece were out there and she couldn't find them. God knew if they were even alive. The only thing she could be sure of was Daryl, sitting thigh-to-thigh on the ground next to her.

Daryl's presence had grounded her lately, especially on the more difficult days. But at some point she'd need more than just him, she thought. The longer they were out on the road, though, the more she started to consider that maybe he was it. Maybe he was the only family she had left. She wanted her family more than anything, but if they couldn't find them, if it was just her and Daryl, maybe she could still survive.

"You'd go through hell and back for Rick," Daryl said suddenly, breaking her thoughts. "That's what you said when you went to go find him."

(Y/N) nodded hesitantly. "I still would-- hell, I have."

"I would, too," he admitted. "He ain't my brother, not like he is yours, but I'd go through hell for him. We ain't gonna stop until we find him, I swear."

She soaked in his words like they were the only thing keeping her alive. In the silence of the Claimers' home for the night, she leaned over and laid her head on his shoulder. Reminded of that day so many weeks ago when he'd lost Merle, she was sure he would tense up. But he didn't react. He didn't even flinch.

Daryl let (Y/N) lean on him that night and every night after that, no matter the looks they got from the Claimers. She needed it, that he knew. But what she didn't know was that he needed it a little, too.

He kept his promise when they found Rick.

The Claimers turned on them faster than they'd welcomed them, that was for sure. Before (Y/N) could process, she was being pulled to the ground by a man twice her size.

They circled Daryl, beating the hell out of him. She screamed and screamed, shoving at her captor, but he wouldn’t budge. The horror that ran cold through her blood when the man held her down almost killed her instantly. Her shirt was ripped off and she could hear Rick, Michonne, and Daryl yelling at them to stop. Daryl almost broke through the circle trying to get to her.

His hands went to her jeans while she kicked and screamed. (Y/N) risked a glance at Carl across the road. His eyes met hers, terrified.

Goosebumps pelted her arms. She couldn't let him see this-- couldn't let him experience it. Oh god, anything but that. Anything but that, please.

(Y/N) didn't know when Rick bit the man's throat out, nor when Daryl found the strength to overpower the mob. All she knew was that the man above her was dragged off her and stabbed through the face by her pissed off older brother, who was practically bathed in blood.

Daryl ran to her side while Michonne helped Carl, who was still shaking. He pulled off his shirt and gave it to her. Unable to speak, it was all she could do to keep sane, putting that thing on.

"Carl--" she stammered. "Is Carl okay?"

"He's okay, they're all okay," Daryl told her quickly.

She looked behind him, where Michonne had the boy. With a nod at each other, the woman with the katana took Carl to the car, where he was out of sight from (Y/N).

The moment he was gone, (Y/N) burst into tears.

It was like her worst nightmare had almost come true. She was moments away from being violated in the most despicable way she could imagine-- and in front of her nephew. In front of the boy she held so dear, the boy she'd spent so long protecting. He almost had to watch that happen.

She'd barely held the tears back in front of him, but her inner motherly instinct told her that she shouldn't. It had kicked in ever since Lori died. She was one of the only women Carl had to take care of him. Thank god for Michonne.

Daryl shocked himself, Rick, and (Y/N) when he hugged her. (Y/N) expected to flinch away, but instead found herself sinking into his arms.

She was shaking uncontrollably, unable to stop her tears. He held her, rubbing her back like it was second nature. He couldn't understand her terror, not entirely, but he knew that she was terrified. The best thing he could do was be there.

"Are you okay?" She asked suddenly, her voice breaking. She looked up and put a hand on his face, examining his wounds. "They hurt you."

He shook his head. "It ain't bad. He touch you?"

(Y/N) swallowed hard and shook her head. "Didn't get far."

He hugged her again, tighter this time. If Rick hadn't kill that son of a bitch, Daryl sure as hell would have. He would have given him worse than death. Far worse.

They took a while to recuperate. Daryl stole one of the dead guy's shirts and (Y/N) kept his. Their reunion with the others was long awaited, but it wasn't as joyful as they had imagined. (Y/N) didn't care. At least they were all together-- well, some of them. It hurt that the rest of their family was still missing.

That night, (Y/N) passed out in the car with Carl long before the others.

Outside, Rick and Daryl had a heart to heart.

"You're my brother," Rick told him, shocking him. "In more ways than one."

Daryl turned bright red at that and looked away, daring a glance toward the car. "What's that s'posed to mean?"

"I think you know," Rick teased. He went serious after that. “I get why you did it now.”

Daryl frowned. "Did what?"

"All of it. Why you went lookin' for her in Atlanta, why you didn't leave after Merle went missing," he continued. He looked over at him with a stricken expression, finally completely understanding. "You love her."

The words hit Daryl like a brick wall.

Okay, maybe he had feelings for (y/N), but love? That was a little strong. A lot strong. Hearing it out of her brother's mouth almost made him want to run into the woods.

He looked down at his feet, mind running at a million miles a minute.

Love her? He didn't know.

Sure, he would do anything for her, that he'd already established. She was different from the others, warmer and more familiar. She had been since day one, when she was the only one who didn't pretend like he didn't exist. (Y/N) was different and he had feelings for her. That he understood.

Did he love her?

He was starting to think he did. He'd done everything in his power to keep her with him, to keep her alive. He'd done that for everyone in their little family. But with her, he wanted her at his side all the time. He wanted her right there with him through everything and she was almost always there, regardless of whether he voiced that one.

Daryl Dixon did love (Y/N) Grimes, he was starting to realise.

"She loves you, too," Rick said, breaking him from his thoughts.

His eyes widened. "She tell ya that?"

He laughed. "No, man, my sister hardly tells me anything anymore. But I can see it in both of you. She's never leaned on anybody as much as she has you, not since we were kids."

"I--" Daryl hesitated for a moment. "I lean on her, too. She's different."

"You're damn right she is. And you better treat her like that, too," Rick warned, lifting an accusing finger.

He raised his hands defensively. "Alright, alright. Enough with the big brother talk. I won't hurt 'er. You know I won't."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Still had to tell you. Part of my job."

Daryl took a deep breath. "Seriously, ya think she--?" he left it unspoken, not sure how he felt in asking her older brother about it.

"Pretty damn sure," he laughed. "Heard her tellin' Carl the other day that if you took your shirt off to dig graves anymore she was gonna die."

He groaned immediately and buried his head in his hands, making his best friend laugh. "So, everybody knows but me?"

"Pretty much," Rick admitted. "Cept maybe (Y/N). She doesn't know how you feel. You're both a little oblivious. We had bets goin' for a while, but you both took so long that we all lost."

Daryl shook his head. "Y'all are assholes."

"Oh, we know."

When they got moving the next day, Daryl kept his pace equal with (Y/N)'s, staying at her side all day. He couldn't bear to leave her alone for a moment, not after that night. They watched with amusement as the others bantered on the way to TERMINUS. They joined in occasionally, but (Y/N) was pretty quiet. She was still recovering from the shock, so no one pushed her.

As they walked through a particularly rough patch of woods, staying off the railroad tracks directly, Daryl got a little bit of a dumb thought.

Walking beside (Y/N), he tentatively reached out for her hand. She almost jumped when she felt him take it, but smiled and let him. Daryl felt like a teenager, beyond red in the face. Luckily, they were walking behind the others, so they didn't notice.

That night, the other three were asleep long before Daryl and (Y/N).

"Don't wanna sleep," she admitted to him after a while. "Scared I'll see it again, last night. It just keeps playin' over and over in my head. What if he'd gotten what he wanted?"

"He didn't. I wouldn't let him," Daryl said firmly.

(Y/N) inhaled shakily. "I know, I just-- it still freaks me out. Can't hardly sleep."

He motioned for her to move closer and she did. He let her lean on his shoulder, as they'd done when they were with the Claimers. He knew it would calm her down, at least a little. It would help her breathe at most. Daryl did notice that Rick, who was definitely pretending to be asleep, opened an eye at the movement. Daryl glared at him and he went back to his pretending.

"Through hell and back," he muttered.

"Hm?" (Y/N) asked drowsily from his side.

"I'd go through hell and back for anyone we know," he admitted. "Been that way since Merle."

"They'd all do the same for you," she said in a quiet reassurance, not quite understanding his point.

He hadn't gotten to his point yet, but he was pretty sure it would kill him.

"I'd do it for any of 'em," he said again, but continued. "But I'd do it twice for you."

Daryl didn't dare look down at (Y/N) after he said it, but he could feel her sit and up and search his face for any sign of amusement or lies.

"I'd do it as many times as I had to," he finished.

"Daryl Dixon, did you go all soft on me?" She asked gently.

He shook his head with a sigh. "Shut up."

(Y/N0 reached up and moved his head to face her, her touch gentler than ever. "I would go through hell and back if you asked me to," she agreed.

"I wouldn't ask ya," he shot back.

She shook her head. "You wouldn't have to."

Leaning forward, (Y/N) Grimes gave Daryl Dixon the most valuable thing she had to give-- her affection. She kissed him soft and slow, letting herself sink into his hold. Daryl was almost breathless. She had her hands in his hair while his arms were wrapped tightly around her.

“Yes!” A quiet voice cheered. “Michonne, you owe me two candy bars.”

“Goddammit, you couldn’t have waited two days?” Michonne hissed at the kissing pair.

They pulled apart instantly and Daryl looked more embarrassed than he ever had been. Rick and Michonne were beaming and Carl was giggling, especially at his dad and Michonne’s bet.

“Carl Grimes, you go to bed right this minute,” (Y/N) instructed.

He laughed but curled. “Okay. ‘Night, Aunt (Y/N). Night, Uncle Daryl.”

‘Uncle Daryl’ mumbled something incoherent and the group burst into another set of giggles, unable to help themselves. Despite themselves, even (Y/N) and Daryl smiled a little.

They had already gone through hell and back for their big brothers. They'd both go through hell again for Rick, in fact, it was almost guaranteed they would have to one day.

But for each other? They'd go through anything and everything without question.

Through hell, they promised each other. Through hell and back.

As soon as your brain processed the words, your eyes widened and you stopped moving. Your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and you wouldn’t meet his eyes. That wasn’t the reaction that Shane was hoping for. Roughly, he gripped your chin and forced you to look at him. The liquor was making him more aggressive than usual, something that both scared you and aroused you. The confusion was dizzying. He held eye contact and spoke firmly.

“Did I say stop? Do it like you mean it.”

“W-what?”

Huffing at your obvious disorientation, Shane ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He knew that this was wrong, but he couldn’t stop. Not when you were so soft and sweet against him. Your vanilla perfume flooded his senses again, and his resolve was broken. Taking things into his own hands, he let go of your chin and planted both hands on your hips. His fingers splayed across the fabric of your skirt as he started guiding your hips. Pressing searing kisses to the side of your neck, he broke the brief silence again.

“Just like that. Do what I’m doin’. C’mon, bunny.”

Whimpering softly, you did what you were told and shifted your hips. Shane hadn’t let go, but he was less forceful. To his surprise, you were doing well on your own. His eyes roamed your figure as you ground against him. He was painfully hard now; an obvious tent had formed in his pants. You didn’t even have to see it to know that he was big. Too focused on this task, you had no idea what was coming next.

Shane waited until your head lolled back, and your moans grew louder to harshly shove you off his leg. You looked stricken with panic as you hit the cushions. Had you done something wrong? Your eyes filled with tears, and you weren’t sober enough to control them. He quickly swiped them away and reprimanded you. His voice was softer this time, though.

“Nu-uh, none of that. We just gotta do somethin’ else.”

“Huh?”

Your innocence was both maddening and invigorating. Shane laughed in disbelief and shook his head. Did you really not know that he was about to fuck you? He couldn’t resist teasing you.

“Oh, bunny. Use that pretty little brain and think. What do you think I’m gonna do?”

Not wanting to disappoint Shane, you paused and thought for a second. The moment it hit you, you looked comically shocked. You’d never had sex before, and your face flushed again. Your voice was shaky and hesitant.

“I-I’ve never done that, Shane.”

Despite being aware of your innocence, he hadn’t expected you to actually be a virgin. To be fair, he’d lost his virginity his freshman year in high school. You were in college now, so he’d expected you to be more experienced. The idea of being your first thrilled him more than he was willing to admit. He exhaled heavily and looked you over again.

“I’ll show you what to do, darlin’.”

Without waiting for your response, Shane stood up and lifted you from the couch. You were plastered, so you just let him carry you. He wasn’t going to fuck you in the living room, so he took you to his bedroom. Dropping you on the bed, he was far too intoxicated to be gentle with you. Not that you minded, though. Being thrown around by the deputy was one of your many fantasies.

You’d never been in this room of the apartment, so you took a second to look at the decor. Like the stereotypical bedroom of a middle-aged man, the walls were pretty bare. On his bedside table, there was a photo of Shane and Rick in their uniforms. The last thing you needed was to see your father while waiting to be plowed. You were about to speak up when your skirt was harshly pulled off, and you were flipped onto your stomach. The second Shane saw you weren’t wearing underwear, he groaned and chastised you as he removed his belt.

“No panties, huh? Fuckin’ wanted this, didn’t you?”

“Y-yes.”

You hated the way your voice was failing you, but you couldn’t dwell on that. The soft clinking of the belt buckle hitting the hardwood floor made you tense. Shane’s hands returned to your hips and his thumbs pressed into the dimples of your back. Seeing you like this was something he’d imagined plenty, but he’d never actually acted on it.

He was about to speak again when he noticed the picture frame that you’d been looking at. Fuck. You were Rick’s little girl. Before the thought could make Shane nauseous, he forced it out of his head and adjusted the picture frame so it was facing away from the bed. He then redirected his attention to your body. His voice was more strained this time.

“Look at you, sweet girl. Layin’ so still for me.”

“Tryin’ to be good.”

Your words weren’t clear enough for Shane. Gripping your hair, he roughly pulled your head back and applied tension to your scalp. You yelped, but that only added to his enjoyment. He tightened his grip further and demanded.

“Speak up, bunny. Can’t hear you when you mumble.”

Taking a shaky breath, you winced at another tug of your hair and tried to steady your voice. Your mumbling was an awful habit.

“I said that I’m tryin’ to be good.”

“Yeah? You wanna be good for me, huh?”

“Yes, sir.”

Your use of the honorific made Shane’s head spin faster than the alcohol in his system. Before he could respond, you whimpered and begged softly.

“Please, Daddy."

That was what undid Shane. He pressed your face against the mattress and quickly dropped his boxers. You made the mistake of glancing over your shoulder and caught a glimpse of his cock. As expected, he was huge. You swallowed thickly and looked visibly overwhelmed. He turned your face again and aligned himself with your entrance. His voice was softer than earlier but ever so patronizing.

“Relax, babygirl. Won’t do us any good if you’re all tense.”

Trying to stay calm, you took a shaky breath and forced your muscles to relax. Shane’s warm palm moved up and down the curve of your ass, sending shivers down your spine. His calloused skin scraped slightly against you. He squeezed the backside of your thigh before speaking again.

“Deep breaths, bunny.”

“Will you go slow?”

Shane barked a laugh at the request and shook his head. You didn’t even have to see his face to know that he was grinning. His breath was hot on the back of your neck, and his fingers released their grip on your hair. You were confused by the sudden lack of tension, but then he anchored his hands on your hips. His tone was somehow more condescending this time.

“Oh, baby. You want me to go slow? Not fuckin’ happenin’.”

You didn’t have time to respond before Shane aligned himself with your entrance and forced himself inside. You’d hoped that he’d let you adjust to his size, but you were wrong. The pain was sharp and burning. You gasped and started to cry softly. The tears running down your cheeks were darkened with mascara. Not pausing his movements, Shane kissed your shoulder and softened his tone. The contrast was dizzying.

“You’re doin’ so good for me, angel. I know it hurts. Such a good girl.”

He stroked your hair as he spoke, and like a pathetic puppy, you leaned into his touch. You whimpered and spoke through the tears.

“It hurts, Daddy."

“I know, baby. I know. You’re takin’ me so well, though.”

Shane was completely buried inside of you, and he took a moment to admire the view. You looked so small beneath him, and it made something in his chest ache. This was so fucking wrong, but he couldn’t stop. It’s not like you wanted him to. This time, he gave you a warning before moving.

“Gonna start movin’, baby. You got it.”

“M’kay. M’tryin’.”

Kissing your shoulder again, Shane started thrusting his cock in and out of your cunt. The stinging intensified before slowly fading. You could feel him stretching you in ways that you hadn’t imagined, and the tears kept flowing. As he moved, deep grunts left his throat and his fingers dug into your doughy flesh. You glanced over your shoulder again and watched as his motions faltered. Feeling insecure, you spoke up hesitantly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’, babygirl. You’re so pretty.”

Despite the reassurance, he shoved your face back into the mattress, and your makeup was staining his sheets. What he couldn’t admit was that seeing your face made this all too real. He was fucking his best friend’s daughter. He was at least twenty years your senior. That was not a thought that he was choosing to ruminate on. Instead, his movements became harsher. It was too much, and you cried out again.

“Fuck. Go easier. Please, Daddy."

“Sh, sh, sh. I got you.”

His words were soft and comforting, but he wasn’t slowing down. You kept whining and struggling to stay put. Shane firmly held you in place, though. Once the pain dulled, he was finally giving attention to your clit and the pleasure coiled tight in your stomach. His words were slow and coaxing.

“You’re so close, bunny. You gonna come for me?”

“Can I?”

Clearly wanting to fuck with your head, Shane feigned ignorance and hummed softly. His release was rapidly approaching, but he was trying to drag this out.

“Can you what? You need to use your words.”

The wait was agonizing, and you whined in frustration. Was he trying to kill you? Knowing Shane would stop if you got an attitude, you exhaled sharply and ground out your plea.

“Can I come, sir? Please.”

Shane groaned at your words and used every remaining ounce of self-restraint to hold himself back. Finishing inside of you was the last thing that he needed. Although the primitive side of him would have no reservations about filling you with his seed. He was quick to answer you.

“Go ahead, sweetheart.”

That was all the encouragement that you needed. The orgasm was dizzying, and you could feel your eyes rolling back in pleasure. No one had ever made you feel like this. Shane made sure that you’d come before letting himself climax, his first unselfish act of the night. He didn’t stop either, just kept driving into you until he was satisfied. It was unclear if he didn’t care about overstimulating you or if he just hadn’t picked up on it yet.

You could barely catch your breath, and you spoke up hesitantly. The shake in your voice made it clear that you were genuinely in pain. The lack of honorific was further proof that he might’ve gone too far.

“It’s too much, Shane. Please stop.”

The second Shane heard those words, he froze. Actually hurting you was the last thing that he wanted. The softer part of him surfaced, and he immediately stopped thrusting. His thick fingers combed through your hair again, and his voice was almost tender.

“Oh, poor bunny. Did I hurt you?”

Not wanting him to feel guilty, you shook your head and put on a brave face. Your voice was steadier this time, but slightly forced.

“No. I mean, not really. It was just a lot, y’know?”

You’d slurred your words a bit, and Shane suddenly felt sick. This was wrong. So fucking wrong. You felt the shift in the way he was holding himself, but he cut you off before you could say anything.

“Get your skirt back on.”

Even though his tone invited no argument, you were too drunk to hold your tongue. You shifted on the mattress and foolishly voiced your confusion.

“Why, Daddy?"

“Don’t. J-just get dressed.”

The pet name that had aroused him only minutes ago now filled him with shame, and Shane wouldn’t meet your eyes. He stepped away from the bed and pulled up his jeans and boxers. Instead of explaining his change in attitude, he grabbed your discarded clothing from the floor and tossed it in your direction. He then spun on his heel and left you alone on the bed.

As you watched him walk away, your cheeks flushed with humiliation and your chest tightened. You felt like an idiot for believing in this fairy tale and looked down at the mess Shane had made. Finger-shaped bruises marked your hips from where he’d been holding you in place. He hadn’t even left you with anything to clean yourself off with.

The liquor amplified your pettiness, so you rubbed yourself all over his sheets. You only stopped once your skin was dry enough to not leave any stains on your skirt. After redressing your lower half, you wiped your cheeks and tried to get off as much mascara as you could. Most of it was on Shane’s sheets. You willed yourself not to get emotional as you rejoined Shane in the living room.

When you exited his bedroom, you saw Shane pacing in front of the couch. His hand passed through his hair as he turned to face you. The man was sick with guilt, and it was written all over his face. His heart sank when he saw the slight redness to your eyes, and he beat you to speaking.

“Gonna take you home. Rick’s probably worried sick.”

The mention of your father’s name made your stomach churn, and you nodded mutely. You’d been drunk for most of the night, but it was starting to hit you all at once. The nausea rolled through you, and you had to take deep breaths. Shane couldn’t stay in this apartment with you any longer, so he began putting on his coat and shoes.

You went to copy him, but you were much more uncoordinated. When moving towards the coat rack, you tripped over your own feet and stumbled forward. Luckily for you, Shane was close enough to catch you. He steadied you and mumbled beneath his breath.

“Jesus, bunny.”

The nickname relaxed you slightly, and you subconsciously leaned into his touch. Shane had been cold with you minutes earlier, so you were soaking in the attention. Despite his thoughts being muddled with self-loathing, he still found himself lightly stroking your hair. Your words ran together when you mumbled against his chest.

“Don’t feel good.”

Allowing himself to be gentle with you again, Shane sighed softly and kissed the top of your head. This was all his fault. He never should’ve let you come over this late at night and he never should’ve supplied you with the alcohol. Fucking you while you were in this state was the final nail in the coffin. He needed to get you home before he made things worse. His tone was tender when he spoke again.

“I know, sweetheart. I need to get you home, okay? Need help with your coat?”

You wanted to be stubborn and insist that you could dress yourself, but you were far too dizzy for that. Instead, you sighed and nodded. Your voice was smaller than usual when you answered him.

“Yes, please.”

Shane made sure that you were steadier on your feet before grabbing your jacket off of the coat rack. He was careful not to rush you as he pulled your arms through the sleeves and zipped it up. The man was also drunk, so he wasn’t moving as smoothly as he typically would. He was still better off than you, though.

Now it was time to get your shoes on. There was no chance that you’d be able to do that on your own. Shane double-checked that you were stable before grabbing your shoes from where you’d tossed them off by the couch. He crouched in front of you and pulled your foot to rest on his denim-clad thigh. This threw you off balance, and you tumbled backwards. He mumbled a curse and grabbed you before you hit the wall.

“Careful, darlin’.”

“M’sorry.”

In spite of the situation, your soft apology was sickeningly sweet, and the corner of Shane’s mouth quirked upward. He leaned you against the front door and returned to putting your shoes back on. As he did this, you reached out and started running your fingers through his hair. This caught Shane off guard, and he barked a laugh.

“What’re you doin’?”

“S’soft.”

Shane couldn’t do anything but laugh and shake his head. Your delirium relieved some of the tension. At least, temporarily. He grinned up at you, and your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. His chest tightened at the sight, and he finished getting your shoes on. Now, he had the task of getting you into the truck.

It had taken several minutes, but Shane finally got you to cooperate. He carried you to the truck and propped the passenger side door open. When he was about to set you down, you clung tighter and murmured.

“Wanna stay with you.”

He sighed deeply and laid you in the seat, despite your protests. Once again softening his tone, he brushed a stray piece of hair from your forehead and responded.

“You can’t, bunny. Rick’s probably already wonderin’ where you are.”

“Fuck him.”

“Hey, don’t talk ‘bout your old man like that.”

In any other circumstance, Shane reprimanding you would’ve earned a groan, but tonight was different. It stung. You shook your head and sheepishly mumbled.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright. You’re my sweet girl, but you need to talk like it.”

“Okay.”

Being called his sweet girl calmed you, and you were ready to listen. Obediently, you lay back in the seat and waited for Shane to buckle you in. He playfully rolled his eyes at your laziness, but still buckled you in. Confident that you were secure, he paused and thought for a second before kissing your forehead. You hummed contentedly, which made him laugh again.

Once Shane climbed into the driver’s seat and got driving, the drive was relatively smooth. His apartment was only ten minutes away from your father’s house. You were staying there while you were home from college. To his horror, Rick was waiting for you on the front porch. He was going to have to come up with something fast.

You would’ve been equally panicked, but you were fast asleep with your cheek smushed against the window pane. Fuck, it was almost endearing. As he pulled into Rick’s driveway, he began formulating a cover story. He’d barely put the car in park before his best friend was knocking on the driver-side window. Shane rolled down the window and cut Rick off as soon as the other man opened his mouth.

“She’s fine, brother. Just drunk. Found her wanderin’ ‘round.”

“Wanderin’ where?”

Despite Rick’s raised eyebrow, he trusted Shane, and he wasn’t asking this out of suspicion. He was simply gathering the details, as any good cop would do. He wasn’t thrilled by the smell of alcohol on Shane’s breath, but he decided not to comment on it. You’d returned in one piece. While Shane gave his answer, he sighed and moved to unbuckle you.

“Down by my apartment. Guess she was lookin’ for somewhere to calm down.”

For whatever reason, Rick wasn’t questioning where you’d gotten the alcohol. At your university, you’d picked up a mirage of habits that he didn’t approve of. You seeking solace in Shane’s apartment wasn’t surprising either. You’d always found comfort in the older man, and your father was too occupied with other parts of his life to examine that further.

Shane was going to wake you up gently, but it was late and your father was impatient. Rick walked over and opened the passenger-side door. You’d been leaning up against it, so your drunk ass nearly tumbled out of the truck. Shane was still leaning across the center console to unbuckle you, so he was able to catch you. He cursed Rick beneath his breath.

“Shit, Rick, be careful.”

“I’ve got her, man.”

Rick’s patience had run out hours ago, and Shane didn’t have the energy to argue with him. Instead, he sat back in his seat and watched as you were carried into the house. He waited until the two of you were inside before he drove back to his empty apartment. The guilt that had embedded in his chest was piercing again.

Once he got back inside, he refused to dwell on the hollowness and resorted to drinking more until he fell asleep on his couch.

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