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egirljuices · 2 years ago

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Among them - Chapter 1

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Season 3 and onwards

Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: General Walking Dead warnings, mentions of SH, SA

Word count: 3k

Author’s note: It’s been like 6 years since I last wrote a fanfic, please don’t mind how horrible it is. Just little scenarios I’ve had in my head, while at work or sewing. Decided to put them down for anyone else to enjoy. I plan to try and write a chapter every second Thursday, or every Thursday if I can.

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The sounds of the trees rustling were the only sound as she trudged through the forest, quietly, following behind a man. He looked clean, for the most part, and had weapons, and looked at least somewhat fed. She knew, in that world, it meant only one thing. Safety. If this was any other time, before the shit storm happened, she would have just introduced herself. However, the last time she put her guard down around another living human… It did not end well.

She ducked further behind the dead, seeing as the man tensed up and looked around, crossbow aiming in all directions he looked. She just needed to see where he was going, but he really didn’t seem interested in the small horde of 5 or 6 dead, including her. The dead weren’t interested in her, as she hid behind one of them, they kept snarling towards the man and following behind him at a snails pace.

He slung his bow behind in his shoulder as he noticed it was just walkers, he didn’t even want to bother wasting the bullet. The herd was so small, it wasn’t worth it. His eyes traced over the walkers as he kept moving, one of them seemed different, but it still looked pale and dirty. He couldn’t see it’s face very much with the hood pulled up, but it looked freshly turned. That didn’t bode well for the rest of the group.

He walked out of the dense forest to the cracked road, and pulled off some leaves from the ditch, underneath was his bike, which he promptly picked up and put it on the road. She knew he would usually bring his bike, and knew it was going to make following him to wherever camp was a lot harder. He turned back looking into the forest at the herd slowly making their way to him one last time, noticing the odd one seemed to quickly slump over instead of stand up straight when he did so. Shaking that thought from his hand, he took off on his bike.

She quickly started running towards the way his bike went, she’s been following him for a week now since she found him here hunting. Trying to figure out where he went back to all the time, scope out the place and decide if she was well enough to try and get in with the man’s group. She thought she must be closer, now, as usually she lost him before he even got on his bike, she didn’t even know he used one.

As the sun disappeared behind the horizon of trees and the air became crisp with the night, she finally stumbled upon it. Staying hidden in trees, she watched as she saw a huge concrete structure, surrounded by fences. There was no dead in the fences, just outside, banging on the metal to attract more, desperate to get in. She pulled out her binoculars from her bag, which she had hidden when the hunter came around and peered down to the yard of concrete. She couldn’t see anyone, surprised by them having no watchers. She noticed the tall tower on the left and averted her eyes to it. She saw a man and a woman sitting beside each other up there, smiling and talking to each other. She looked around the fences, looking for an opening and noticed the fence looked different in one spot, almost as if had been cut open before and stitched together with a different metal. Slipping the binoculars back in her back, she slung it over her shoulder and readied a hang on her throwing knives rested around her thigh. She didn’t plan to hurt anyone, but she wanted to get closer and make sure they were safe before making her presence aware.

She laid a blanket down close to the tree line. She couldn’t hear them, but she could watch them. She watched them for a couple days, seeing a baby at some point, an old man missing part of his leg and a young boy. Upon seeing them she knew they must be good people. Bad people didn’t keep the weak or young around. On the third day, the day she decided she’d approach the hunter, or even walk right up to the metal gate they left from, she saw the hunter getting on his bike to head out. Perfect timing. She was planning on just flagging him down on the road as he sped by her. She heard the rumble of the motorcycle and stepped her combat boots on the concrete, putting her hands above her head to show she was unarmed. As the bike came into view, he slowed down, a pretty significant distance between them, hastily pulling out his crossbow and aiming it at her, slowly walking towards her.

“Whatcha want?” He had a deep raspy voice, with a southern drawl to it.

She lowered her arms slightly in front of her. “I just… I just need somewhere. I bring no harm.”

He took in her form, wearing black scuffed and dirty combat boots, ripped and dirty jeans with socks over the hem, a dirty black pull over hoodie with rips and tears. She had choppy [y/h/c] hair, looking like it was cut short with knife rather than scissors, stopping just above her shoulders and her [y/e/c] eyes looked desperately at him. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. “Look like a walker.” He stated.

“I am one, that’s how I survived.” She spoke lowly, she knew he heard her, but he didn’t say anything about her statement.

“Ya ‘lone out ‘ere or wha’?” He looked behind her, to his right and left, but kept the crossbow centered on her frame.

She sighed. “Yeah.”

He lowered his crossbow slightly. “How many walkers ya kill?”

“None.” She stated, stiffening a bit.

“How ya manage to kill none and survive this long?” He asked, his voice laced with confusion and doubt. Was she lying to his face?

“It’s complicated.” She scrunched up her face, her nose wrinkling and shook her head.

“How many people ya kill?” He raised his crossbow a little more, glaring his deep blue eyes at her.

She choked, her eyes glossing with tears, which she quickly blinked back. “One.”

“Why?” He took a step closer to her, confused on the answers she gave.

“I couldn’t…. I didn’t… He deserved so much more….” Her voice was soft, cracking at points, changing in pitch and her body trembled.

He lowered his crossbow completely now, resting it at his side. “We got people. A group. Yer welcome to join us, but ya got to hand over yer weapons.” He approached her cautiously.

She looked down at her throwing knives, only the three hearts on the handle sticking out. She only had 2 within arms reach. The others were in her pack. She shook her head to him. “I can’t. All I got are the knives, and they mean more to me than my life.” Her face hardened and she clamped a palm over the knife holster on her thigh.

Seeing no real danger in a couple dinky throwing knives, he shrugged his shoulders and slung the crossbow over his shoulder. “’Ight. Get on the bike, drive ya back to my group.”

She relaxed and took a couple steps closer to him. “[y/n].”

He turned to her, tilting his head, his blue eyes locking on to her [y/e/c] ones. “Daryl.”

She nodded to him and walked behind him as he swung back on his bike, and nodded to her. She sat on behind him, unsure what to do with her hands. Normally, she knew she’d hold on to him, but she felt he wouldn’t like that.

“Yer gon’ fall off. ‘Old on.” He replied to her thoughts, his words sounding more like a grumble than talking.

She wrapped her arms around his midsection and rested her head on his back. She felt him stiffen underneath her, but he started the bike anyway.

The drive was nice, feeling the wind in her hair, feeling a warm body, alive, breathing. She felt comfortable. It didn’t take them long to get back to the gate, she noticed it was the young boy in a sheriff hat opening the gate for them as Daryl drove the bike into the yard.

She quickly hopped off, her boots hitting the gravel road and looked up to immediately have the kid pointing a gun towards her. She held up her hands quickly. “Whoa, kid, I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

Daryl kicked the stand on his bike up and turned to look at the young boy. “Carl, put it down, where’s ya dad?”

“He’s coming.” The boy, named Carl, motioned up with his head, keeping his eyes trained on the woman in front of him.

Daryl and her eyes moved to where the boy motioned, seeing a man in a beige button down, with the sleeves slightly rolled up, black pants and brown boots. He jogged up to Daryl and Carl as she kept her hands up.

“Who’s this, Daryl?” He asked, squinting his eyes due to the sun, and looking over at her.

“Don’t know. Found ‘er on the road. Says she alone.” He shrugged, answering the man.

The man turned to her, “How many walkers have you killed?” he asked, softly, not as harsh as Daryl had.

“None.” She answered at the same time as Daryl grumbled it.

The man looked confused. “How…. How many people have you killed?”

“One.”

“Wh-“ He started, but she knew what he was asking.

“Because I couldn’t see him like that.” She breathed out angrily, not wanting to keep bringing it up. Fresh tears stung her eyes again, but she bit them back.

The mans jaw hardened. He stepped towards her, holding out his hand. “Rick.”

“Y/N” She took his hand, shaking it weakly.

“We should get her to Hershel, make sure she’s not bit or hurt.” Rick turned to Daryl. “You comin’ with, or going out?”

“Curious to know how she survived this long.” He spoke, turning towards the concrete prison behind them.

Rick looked to her. “Follow us, don’t try anything stupid, we’ll put you down faster than you can plan anything.” He stated and started walking a bit ahead of her.

She noticed the young boy started following behind her, rifle still held against his body and giving her a cold glare.

As they walked into the prison, Rick held up his hand in the first room they entered. “Stay here.” He commanded.

She looked around, it was a concrete room with a couple round cafeteria tables and a cage room in the corner. She had never been in a prison before, and leaned on one side of her body. The adrenaline of meeting these people was wearing off, and the lack of food or water in her system was starting to leave it’s mark on her.

Daryl seemed to notice, his hard eyes looking down at her form as her eyes looked to droop some, and he noticed just how tired she had looked. “Ya can sit down.” He said, breaking the silence after Rick left.

She turned to him at her side and smiled up at him weakly. “Thanks.” She crossed the room to the tables and sat on the bench seat of it. Biting her lip and looking over at Daryl and the boy, Carl. Her leg began to shake up and down. A nervous habit she had shared with him.

Carl never seemed to take his eyes off her, looking like she had crossed him somehow, but she could see fear in his eyes. Daryl, meanwhile, looked anywhere but her. The minutes it took Rick to come out, with the hobbling old man she’s seen in the yard, felt like hours in the silence of the big concrete room. She knew there was more people here, but they were oddly quiet, and no where to be seen.

The old man limped over to her in his crutches and smiled softly down at her. “I’m Hershel, I have medical experience and I can look you over, if you’d like.”

She felt instant comfort in his presence and nodded slowly. “I’m fine, no pain anywhere, just haven’t eaten or had water in a while.”

Rick came up behind him, passing her a bottle of water. She eagerly drank from the bottle. Setting it down on the table once she drank over half of it.

“How’d you survive killing no walkers?” Rick asked her.

She pushed her lips together and started to play with the ring on her finger. What would he say? What would he do? She thought. She realized it be better to tell them the truth now, than lie to them and them find out later. “Please don’t shoot me.” She said, breaking the silence as she thought.

“Don’t do nothin’ stupid ‘n’ we won’t.” Daryl’s rough voice spoke up. He was now stopped a little behind Rick and staring down at her.

She clenched her teeth together, “I was bit.” She waited a second, seeing Daryl raise his crossbow at her head in the exact second the words exited her mouth.

Hershel leaned back on his crutches and Rick put his hand over his python on his hip. “When?” Rick asked.

She looked up at them now, meeting Rick’s eyes. “When this first thing started.” She stated, trying to keep her fear hidden.

Rick stepped closer, stepping in front of Hershel. “How?”

“Wha’ ya sayin’, woman!” Daryl’s voice was louder now, and he glared at her, his crossbow still raised to her head.

“I’ll show you. Let Hershel look at it.” She said, calmly, trying to calm their nerves. She lifted the hoodie over her head and rested it on her lap, using one of her hands to pull down the left side of her shirt. His lasting bite left between her neck and shoulder; a nasty scarred over wound.

Hershel stepped out from behind Rick and leaned closer to her, investigating the wound. “This is fully healed, Rick.” He stood straight again, and turned to Rick. “She’s not lying, it’s the truth.”

Rick looked at the wound on her shoulder, shaking his head. “How?” He repeated.

Her mouth went dry as she frantically looked between Hershel, Rick, Daryl and Carl, who had since lowered his rifle to his side in surprise. “I… I stayed with him. I was the reason…. I was the reason… He tried protecting me… I just…. I held… I held him.” She stuttered out slowly. Tears now freely flowing down her face. She snapped her eyes down to her hands, scrunched up in the hoodie, the ring shining up at her. Mocking her. She was the reason he was dead. It should’ve been her.

“Stop.” Surprisingly, Daryl’s raspy voice called out, he swung his crossbow behind his back. “Don’t gotta talk ‘bout it if ya don’t wanna.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up at the old man. “He’s right. We’re sorry, we just needed to know. You don’t have to tell us how it happened.” Hershel spoke softly to her.

Rick, however, looked at her sternly. “So, you didn’t change? You didn’t die?”

She quickly nodded her head. “They don’t want me, either. I can walk right in front of the Dead, they don’t care.” She wiped the tears from her face away and smirked, shaking her head. “Even at the end of the world, I’m not noticeable.”

The words she spoke struck a nerve in Daryl, he felt like his heart was stabbed into. Seeing that look of defeat on her face as she said it, hearing the words come from her mouth. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to hear her say it again. “Nah, ya gots the advantage.” He encouraged her.

Rick nodded to Daryl. “You can freely walk among them, you are safe.”

Her face hardened as she knew what they meant, but they never were truly alone. They seemed to have each other for at least a while now. “The dead don’t make good company.” She said bitterly.

Hershel pats her shoulder and looked to Rick. “Well, seeing as how she doesn’t seem to be a threat, no reason we can’t be good company.”

Rick took a deep breath and nodded. “You don’t hurt my people, you put in work, you can be part of us. But I won’t hesitate to put you down if you hurt anyone, or that infection starts to show.” His tone was serious.

“Understood.” She slipped the black hoodie, his hoodie, over her body again.

“Carl, show her to a cell. Daryl, Hershel and I are gonna talk.” Rick looked at the boy, who assumed was his son based on what Daryl said earlier.

He nodded and started walking towards a closed gate. She got up and quickly caught up to the boy.

She coughed. “Thanks for not shooting me, Carl.” She used his name instead of kid, wanting him to not hate her as much as he looked like he did.

He simply nodded and took her up the stairs, passing by a bottom row of cells. The upstairs had more. He walked her over to the last one, closest to a look out of sorts in the center. “I’m putting you near Daryl in case anything happens, just know he’ll be there to stop you.” He spoke sharply, turning on his heels and walking to the stairs.

She pushed open the cell and peaked inside, it had a bunk bed, with actual mattresses, at least, the bottom one did. It was small, dark and isolated from the rest of the cells downstairs that looked decorated and lived in. She put her backpack down in front of the bed and flopped down on it. The act of laying on a soft surface causing her back to ache.

She thought about the hunter, and how she followed him for weeks, and how he never seemed to notice her in the horde of dead she snuck through. She thought about how everyone seemed stand-offish to her, even the friendly old man who seemed nice, but she could see he was unsure of her. Playing with her ring, while her hands rested on her stomach, she closed her eyes, thinking of him. What he would do to gain their trust. Thinking of him, she didn’t even noticed, she had fallen asleep.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #fanfic

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