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acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

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Ret'urcye Mhi - Rogue, Chapter 7 | The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (F)

Summary: Can things go back to normal after the Mandalorian saw you break down? Or have walls been torn down that can’t be replaced?

Warnings: Light swearing, I don’t want to give it away but no smut but… a ‘moment’ with some certainly hot thoughts and pining but nothing heavy though, reader has a back tattoo, let me know if I forgot anything!

AN: I have brought in Cara Dune in this, and she will be a frequent character. I by no means condone what Gina Carano did, and I am pleased and relieved that she is gone. However, I do like her character, as many others do. She IS only mentioned in this one briefly but will be a main character in a few future chapters.

Also, Readers tattoo is loosely based on this design!(link) I’m not sure who the exact creator is, but it was posted by Urban Threads on Pinterest, but if you know, please tell me! ❤️

Word Count: 8231

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jackgrzs

Mando’a Translation: Ret'urcye mhi - Goodbye

Neither of you mentioned that afternoon.

It hadn’t come up in the 3 days since, and it hadn’t come up today. You made sure of it.

Every time Mando looked at you, and you just felt he was going to mention it, you’d change the subject. Or just walk away. You didn’t need to have that conversation with him. You couldn’t have that conversation with him. Or anyone.

The Mandalorian had sat there, holding you for the hours it took for you to cry yourself out. When the shuddering sobs had given way to hitched breaths and a numb stare, he’d still sat there. Rubbing your back in gentle circles, in time with Duru’s tail gently swaying over your arm. He hadn’t uttered a single word either, just letting you break down in his arms.

When the quiet ambiance of the ship and the pressure of his hand had lulled you into sleep, he’d carried you to his bed – well, the narrow cot that jutted out from the wall in what was supposed to be the medical area. He’d given up his sleeping compartment to Grogu a long time ago, to keep the little creature warm and safe.

He’d laid you in, covering you with the blanket and then one more that he pulled out from a unit.

You were asleep, so you hadn’t seen the way his gloved fingers gently brushed back the hair from your tear flushed cheeks, the way they’d lingered for a moment as he’d looked down at the soft strands gliding over his fingers. You hadn’t felt the way he’d frozen when a sudden want crashed through him, to yank off his gloves and run his bare hands through your hair, feel the silkiness and the texture for himself.

And you also wouldn’t have noticed the way his breathing went ragged for a moment and he’d lurched back, stumbling away so quickly he nearly overturned a box on his way out of the door.

Your sleep hadn’t remained easy. Only a few hours later, you had woken up screaming, unsure of where you were, why you were on a thin cot that smelled like metal and smoke and something distinctly unique and almost like sandalwood. It was somehow comforting, soothing. You had inhaled the scent, trying to calm down your pounding heard and regain control of your breathing.

It was only when you could suck in a full breath that you realised where you were, who’s bed this was.

A feeling of gratefulness had crashed over you, only to be immediately wiped out by shame. You had broken down in front of him, spat such awful, awful things to his face.

And when you heard footsteps outside the compartment door, the husky baritone of his voice as he called out your name softly, you’d gone still. Like you were back on the run, mere inches away from a hunter and one move would mean disaster.

He’d lingered, you could see by the shadows of his feet under the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. A wild thought had come to you, that he had his hand pressed to the door and you could just.. open it. Open it and let him come in, let him carry the burden of your nightmares and your feelings even If it was just for a little while. You could share some of those plaguing thoughts that you’d unleashed today. And he would listen. You didn’t know him that well, but you knew him enough to be confident he would sit there, let you talk. He knew what it was like to be alone, to have emotions and worries that you had no choice to bear yourself.

The temptation was so strong, you craved that contact and connection so much that you were halfway across the room before your snarling argument came back in full technicolour. The things you’d said to him. The appalling way you’d acted.

No.

You couldn’t see him. You couldn’t face him after that. After what you had said and the way you had cracked. You shook your head firmly, waiting until you heard a sigh so soft you might have imagined it and retreating footsteps.

It was only then you that you returned to the bed, pulling the twin blankets up high over your shoulders.

You’d deal with seeing him in the morning, but for now, all you could do was bury your face in the thin pillow and try not to notice how it smelt like him.

Something had changed between the two of you since that afternoon. He had glimpsed a part of you that you normally kept perfectly hidden, even from yourself.

…

You were on your way to another bounty, one of the last couple of pucks that Mando had left.

Mando had mentioned it was a hot, desert planet and he’d prefer it if you stayed in the ship with Grogu. It’d be far too hot for the little guy out there. You had obliged happily, more than fine to stay in. You didn’t like to be too hot, it made you uncomfortable and agitated.

The cockpit was quiet, a peaceful silence had descended upon it as Mando flew the ship.

You’d found yourself drawn to watching his hands lately. There was something… oddly soothing about it. Watching him work the controls, hold Grogu, clean his weapons.

You wondered if he missed the sensation of touch, and then wondered if yours and the kids presence here made it harder for him. Meant he had less chances to take off his armour and be free of it.

Of course, that had then led you onto the thought of wondering if he slept naked when he was alone.

The thought of him lying there, nothing hiding him, separating him from the world.

The thin blankets sliding over the body you knew was toned, yet soft enough in all the right places.

It made your mouth a little dry, your cheeks a little pink and you struggled to find something else to think about.

Your eyes drifted to his hands again, remembering the sound of the gloves being drawn off the other night.

They were mesmerising, agile, and you couldn’t stop thinking about them in your hair, on your skin.

Stars above, get a grip, girl.

You mentally scolded yourself for these thoughts, trying to steer your damned imagination onto something more appropriate.

Luckily, your saviour came in the form of Mando himself. He tilted his head back slightly, enough for you to know he was talking to you, “What’s your favourite planet? Or one you’d like to visit?”

The question surprised you, you had to admit. You weren’t used to people asking about your likes and dislikes. You smiled though, perhaps this was his gentle way to break any tension left over. “Hmm… I think… I’d have to say the planet I’d like to visit most... either Hoth or Coruscant.”

Mando laughed, that gorgeous rough, honey laugh, “Okay, Coruscant I can understand, but Hoth? Really?”

You pouted at the back of his head, “Yes!! It sounds beautiful.”

The Mandalorian laughed more, “Beautiful? Sweetheart, it’s covered in ice. It’s freezing there. All you would see is ice and snow… and more ice and more snow.”

You scowled at him now, throwing the leftover wrapper of Grogu’s cookies at his helmet, “And? Snow and ice are stunning. They’re powerful and strong. I’ve only ever been in a proper snowfall once, and I fell in love. The way the flakes float down and.. dance even if there’s the faintest breeze. And then when they land on your skin or your eyelashes like little cold kisses… The sound it makes under your boots when you walk on a fresh fall. And it softens everything, makes it easier on your eyes to see across the landscape… it’s quiet, muffled… Besides, I like the cold.”

Little did you know, Mando was grinning like an idiot under his helmet, adoring the way you defend it to him, the way you describe something as simple as ice and snow. “You like the cold, huh? Then why are you always grumbling that the heating is broken?” The teasing lilt to his voice was evident, so animated and content, compared to his usual cooler, calm silence.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. “That is… completely irrelevant.” You looked at the back of his head, “What about you? If my choices are so hilarious.”

The Mandalorian made a thoughtful noise, “I wouldn’t say there’s one place in particular… But… there’s a few sanctuary planets dotted around. Places with really pretty, dense forests where you could walk for days and not spot anyone else. They’re protected and safe, no dangerous animals or anything allowed… literally sanctuaries. I’d like to take Grogu there… let him wander and have fun and eat things he shouldn’t without having to look over my shoulder.”

It was the most you’d ever heard him speak in one go, and there was a tenderness in his voice that brought tears to your eyes. This man truly loved his little green adoptive son and would do anything for him. “That sounds... stunning. I’ve heard of those planets and always wondered what they were like...”

He made a hum of agreement, fingers working over the control panel as he put it in autopilot. “One day…” He turned around in his chair, “What about your favourite colour?”

You moved to sit cross-legged in the seat, defying the concept of a chair. “Blue. Darker blues, like a midnight blue.” You swayed your chair from side to side slightly, “Actually, the same colour as the cloak you got me. So well done, kudo’s for you.”

Mando leant back in his own chair, tapping the side of his helmet before resting his hands on his thighs again. “This thing lets me read minds; you know.”

You began pulling the pins from your hair, “Mmhm, and I can fly.” You raise an eyebrow at him, grinning.

He chuckled, watching you intently behind the helmet though you wouldn’t know that, watching every pin get removed from holding up your hair, “It wouldn’t surprise me at this point, princess.” He tapped his thighs absently, “You wanna know the real secret?”

You nodded, reaching in for a pin that had become stuck deep in your hair, the last one. “Surprise me.” Got it. You yanked the pin out, letting your hair fall down and your fingers through it. You sighed a little in relief as you rubbed your fingertips against your scalp, chasing away any tightness from the day.

Mando didn’t say anything. He was too distracted, to struck into silence by the sight of your hair.

The light from the ship and coming in through the windows turned some of the strands to gold, igniting them with that fire that blazed within you – and that he’d been on the receiving end.

His hands tightened over his thighs, because he was overtaken by a craving, a need to remove your hands and feel your hair for himself.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had these thoughts.

Fuck, he’d been having these thoughts since he first saw you. He just hadn’t realised them until that night he’d nearly lost his life and woken up to you passed out on his chest.

He’d frozen, even his breathing stopping as he felt the warm weight of you, even though the armour.

He couldn’t bear to move you, to take away that pressure, the closeness of another human that he had missed for so long.

So, he hadn’t. He left you there. Spent hours watching you sleep, the warmth of your breath slightly fogging up the armour on his chest.

“Lori? Anyone in there?” You tilted your head, watching the man before you that was staring at you intently, his breathing somewhat ragged.

He startled slightly, coming back to himself, “Huh?”

You chuckled, “Where did you go? I was waiting for you to knock me off my feet with your revelation.”

He made a noise, “Uh… I.. actually can’t remember...” He tugged at his glove, an odd gesture so at odds with his usual confident demeanour.

You tilted your head, still smiling a little, “Are you okay?”

Luckily, he was saved from answering by the beeping of the controls behind him.

You’d arrived at the planet.

It was hot.

Beyond hot.

The air was warm, the water was warm, you were warm.

And already awake, having just calmed your breathing down from another nightmare, when you heard Grogu, his little coos and gurgled filtering down the hall to you.

The poor little creature had probably woken up from the heat. You had been on this desert planet for a couple of days, opting to stay in and look after the Child whilst Mando hunted down the bounty. The days here were scorching, a dry heat that sucked the life from you immediately. Even the nights were hot, unlike normal freezing desert nights.

Mando had returned this evening, panting from the heat after coming up from the carbonite chamber. “I swear it’s getting hotter out there.”

The cooling system on the Crest was just as temperamental as the heating, so it wasn’t exactly cool in here. The metal floors, which were normally always chilled, were warm underfoot. Mando had let you keep his room, and it was just as hot, being contained in with itself, so you’d been sleeping with the doors open.

Not that it made a dent. Every single closed space was like a heat trap, especially Grogu’s little compartment. So, no wonder he had woken up.

You stretched, then slipped from the cot and made your way to Grogu.

It didn’t take long to settle him, he was all tuckered out from the games you’d been playing today, so after patting his skin with a cool cloth, he had fallen back under.

You were now at the small ‘kitchen’ area in the ship, washing out the cloth. You huffed, splashing some water on your wrists and pulling out the pin that was holding up your hair, and falling out. Grogu had a habit of tugging the ends of your hair in his little fist.

You’d taken to wearing a thin floaty dress to bed, one you’d picked up in that market before it had turned into a horror show. The material was gauzy, allowing the heat to escape your body without it sticking to your clammy skin. What helped enormously was the large cut out in the back. It secured at the back of your neck, and then fell open, exposing almost your whole back before joining again at the base of your spine.

It was probably the flimsiest, most sinful thing you’d ever worn, but it was gorgeous and hey, it did the job.

You rolled your shoulders, pressing the cool cloth to your neck and you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips and you could have sworn you heard a sizzle.

Footsteps behind you startled you, breaking you from your reverie, and then Mando’s voice filtered through the silence, “Are you okay?”

You turned around, smiling when you saw him because he was still in all his armour… not that you were surprised. He must have been boiling though, under all those heavy layers.

You nodded, lifting the cloth from your neck, “The kid was awake, but I settled him down, he was really warm.”

His head was covered, naturally, so you wouldn’t have seen the way his eyes followed a bead of water rolling down your neck, and the unbidden thought of his tongue catching it “Thank you for seeing to him, I didn’t hear..”

Weird. Normally he was so attuned to Grogu, hearing him before he even woke up if you were sitting together. Maybe he was tired, from his hunting.

What you didn’t know, couldn’t know, was that he had been staring at the ceiling for the 3rd night in a row. Having thoughts that he should not be having, his body yearning for things it shouldn’t.

You shook your head, still smiling and turned back to the sink area, “It’s no worries, I was awake anyway so… And you’ve been hunting. You deserve the rest.” You set down the cloth, running your hands through your hair and reaching for your pin to secure it back up. You faced him again, gathering your hair in your hands, “How was it?”

But he wasn’t listening.

He suddenly moved forward, and then he was in front of you. “Wait.” His voice was low, almost strained. There was a husk to it that hadn’t been there before, but it ignited something within you.

You froze, your hands still stuck in your hair. You looked up at him, raising your eyebrows slightly, “What..?” It was only now he was right in front of you that you could see his chest, rising and falling rapidly. “Mando, are you okay?”

He shook his head quickly, his helmet tilted down to you, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides, “Let your hair down.” His voice was still that rumbly order, and it was such an odd request that you did just that, letting it tumble back down again. Your own hands trembled slightly as you lowered them.

A shudder seemed to roll through his body, and he rocked forward on his feet, lurching toward you in a movement that lacked his usual smooth elegance. It was unsteady, unsure.

He stopped when he was a mere few inches away, the closest you’d been to each other since that afternoon.

This close, you could practically feel the heat roiling off of him under his armour, and you tilted your head up to meet him, concern in your eyes, “Mando, you need to go and have a cold shower.. You sound like you’re burning up… do you feel flushed?”

He shook his head jerkily, his hands raising, “Shh… please. I just.. I need to..” He broke off, a sharp intake of air cutting his words.

Something else began to curl through the worry in your belly, like some instinct knew things you didn’t. You swallowed, your voice low when you next spoke, “You need to what..?”

The Mandalorian was shaking, his body tensing and untensing like he was fighting himself, telling himself not to do this. “I.. I need to touch your hair.”

Stars, you could feel the flush that crept up his neck and cheeks, like it burned through his helmet but you stayed completely still.

His words were whispered through gritted teeth, like he was physically trying to bite them back, “I just... I need to do this, please… I’m sorry, but I cant-” He sounded like he was in pain, still breathing raggedly.

Heat flared through your blood, igniting a flame within you that was irresistible. You nodded, letting him see you, “Okay.” Like you could say no to him.

The vocoder nearly didn’t pick up the huff of relief that escaped his lips and he curled his hands into fists again, “Turn around. And close your eyes.” That rough command was back and you were more than obliging to let him navigate this moment.

You turned around, facing the kitchen area, looking over the darkened surroundings before shutting your eyes. It immediately threw all your other senses into overdrive, so you could hear every single rasp of his breath as you exposed your skin to him, and the pounding of your own heart.

“You have to keep them closed. You cannot turn around or look.” There was a desperate plea in his voice, an edge to it that hurt your very soul. He was audibly torn, between his Creed… and this desire that he seemed to have given into.

You nodded again, aching to reach back and reassure him, “I won’t. I won’t open my eyes or turn around until you tell me, I swear on it, Lori.” You let every ounce of truth and understanding seep through your words, praying that it would be enough to convince him he could trust you.

Seemingly, it was, because the next noise that you heard could have struck you dead.

It was the sound of leather rubbing against skin, the friction as they were pulled off, then a soft thump of the material on the floor.

He had taken off his gloves.

He was standing behind you… with his hands bare.

You. A person he hasn’t known for very long at all, and he was partially bare, uncovered.

Your head exploded, a million thoughts racing through it once, sending your heart into overdrive and your own breathing rapid and unsteady.

There was a pause, like he was steeling himself and then… then the slightest sensation, like he was catching the ends of your hair, just brushing them.

That simple movement sent a shiver down your spine, and it was enough to get him to move more. He lifted his hands and then you felt fingers slide into your hair at the back of your head, then slowly, slowly, drag down the length.

You heard a sharp intake of breath behind you, and then a soft mutter, “It’s so soft..” You barely picked it up, even though the ship was silent. The fingers ghosted through your hair again, and his voice was bewildered, “How do you get it this soft in that tiny ‘fresher..” It was like he was talking to himself.

You couldn’t help the soft laugh, a release of tension from this whole thing, “I can’t reveal my secrets, Lori. Can’t have your hair being softer than mine. There’s only room for one on this ship.”

He chuckled, and it ran over your bones like honey, dousing them in such a sweet sensation. “I’ll get it out of you one way or another, princess.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t get the chance to speak because then his fingers were running up your scalp from the base of your head to the crown, with a light pressure and the feeling was so unbelievably good, that you couldn’t help it. Your head leant back into his touch and the faintest sigh left your lips. “Keep doing that..” Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment crashing over you. Why did you have to say that?

The Mandalorian’s hands had paused, absorbing that soft sigh of pleasure and trying to cool his body. But you had a hold over him, he couldn’t say no. He merely did it again, with a firmer press of his fingers against your scalp, a light scrape of his nails just to get you to make that noise again, to be convinced that you were enjoying this just as much as he was.

You didn’t stop the next sigh, this one louder, more delighted. It was like you knew what the other was thinking, could read each other that well.

He was driving you insane, rendering you speechless just from playing with your hair.

You don’t know how long you stood there for, his hands running through the soft locks.

He lifted it slightly, then made a soft noise. “I didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

A tattoo? Oh right.

It was true, you did. It was a delicate piece, spanning from the top of your spine to just above your hips, lining your spine. It showed the phases of the moon, drawn in a minimalist style, with small stars and additional lines coming out of every other piece.

You nodded quickly, “I’ve had it for years.” Fuck, could your voice sound anymore needy?

“What does it mean?” His words were murmured and then the next thing could have had you on your knees.

You heard a sound that had haunted you since the night he nearly died, the sound of leather sliding over skin. The soft plop as it fell to the floor.

No way. Has he just..

His fingers, his bare fingers ghosted down your spine, following the line of it with a touch so fleeting it almost made you whine.

In fact, it did, a whimper rising from deep in your chest.

He was touching you.

His bare skin, skin that he had sworn by Creed to keep covered and hidden until marriage, was trailing down your spine as light as wings.

Pleasure shot straight though you, making your nerves and blood sing, making your knees shake and your belly hot.

A tug on your hair, a tug that was sharp enough to send a faint tinge of pain through your scalp had you moaning, you couldn’t help it. Your lips parted and the moan fell from them, soft, a little high and drawn.

Mando swore under his breath, his whole body twitching behind yours, “I asked you a question, sweetheart.” There was a hoarseness to his voice that hadn’t been there before, a straining note like your moan had shot right through him. Which is had.

What does it mean… what does it mean? Focus!!

“Um… right. When I was on the run, initially in the beginning, I never had a place to call home. Everything I knew had been torn away, and I could never settle anywhere. Every night, I would look up into the sky and watch the moon. No matter what planet I was on, no matter where I was, or if there two moons or 4, it was always there. I only had to look up, and there was something up there to ground me, give me some sense of comfort. It might look smaller, or be a different colour, but it was still the moon. And it made me feel… safe. Like it was a… a companion in a way. I just had to look a little closer, beneath the colours or the distance and there it was. It was always in the sky, so I wanted to get it tattooed so that it would always be with me. No matter if I was outside, as free as I could be, or inside and trapped.” You flushed a little, “That probably makes no sense and sounds so stupid.”

You could sense the Mandalorian shaking his head, his voice still low and soft, “No.. I think it’s beautiful. And I get it. I move around so much too, there’s only a few things that always remain the same. So I know the value of having something familiar.” He ghosted his fingers down it again, trailing all the way down to where the cut out portion of your dress stopped and then back up again.

When his hand reached the top of the tattoo, he slid it up further, cupping the back of your neck in his broad, warm hand.

It sent electricity shooting across your skin, that blazed as he wrapped his thumb and fingers around either side of your neck, just a gentle pressure there.

You moaned again; you didn’t even try to hide it. Your head fell back, exposing your throat to him in a sign of instinctual submission, even though you knew he wouldn’t kiss you. You didn’t mind, you just needed more, more than this teasing touch, more than the faint brush of his fingertips. Your chest shuddered, knuckles white as you gripped the counter in an effort to stay still, “Lori…” You whined his name, hoping it would spark something in him, would force him to do something.

You felt him shudder again, felt his hips draw back from your body like he was trying to hide just what these noises did to him.

Fuck.

It burned you, turned your belly molten and the power that washed over you was heady. You had turned him on just from your hair, your skin and your moans.

The voice that came out was equally as tight, husky and you might have lived and died inside the low baritone “What is it, princess?”

Your fingers curled around the side of the counter in front of you, and you were glad he couldn’t see your face when you whispered, “Please..”. Your voice was low, pleading and aching.

You felt him shudder behind you, a tiny groan echoing through the helmet.

His next words nearly undid you there and then, “Like I could say no to you.”

Then his fingers pressed into your spine, caressing down your back over the tattoo with such admiration, such warmth that it arched slightly, chasing more of that sensation.

Your head was spinning, convinced you were dreaming, that this wasn’t real.

This didn’t happen between you both.

You flirted, sure. But that was harmless, playful.

This… this was real. He was letting you feel his bare skin, uncovered and unhidden.

And it was tearing you apart.

The scrape of his thumbnail on your skin tore you from those thoughts, ripped you back to the present as it ran down the curve of your back. If your eyes had been open, they would have rolled into the back of your head.

Your head fell forward, back arching completely into him and the sound that you let out was sinful. You could only concentrate on the that sharp, pleasurable hurt that you felt in your belly, the feeling of his other hand as it held your shoulder, holding you in that arch.

Heat pooled low in your belly, and every dream, every thought you’d been trying to suppress about him came blasting into full technicolour. All because of his hands.

Those damn hands you’d been pining over since saving his life.

His head was so close over your shoulder that you could hear the low pant of his breath, the coolness of his armour barely brushing your shoulders as you pressed back into him.

Fuck, did he want this as much as you did?

By the way his hand tightened, he had to. You didn’t know how you knew it, but you did.

You swallowed, licking your lips to say something, anything, spur him on but a harsh beeping suddenly broke through the thick tension on the room. A light was flashing, and by the time the fog of pleasure cleared in your head, he was gone.

Gloves picked up and yanked on, boots disappearing up the ladder into the cockpit to check on the autopilot.

The taut sensation in your body snapped, making you sink to the floor as though the strings had been cut.

You lifted shaking hands to your face, burying them in them with a low noise. Your head was a mess, you couldn’t get over it. Couldn’t stop feeling his fingers on your back, your hair. Hear the ragged pant of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against your shoulders.

It was just touch, just the simple act of touch but it had igniting something so fierce within you.

Something had changed.

What the fuck was that?

You sat there on the floor for Maker knows how long, before dragging yourself up and hurrying off in search of a very, very cold shower.

You weren’t quite sure how to face him the next morning.

You had taken your cold shower, and it had done nothing to cool the fire in your blood so you had to take the initiative, hoping the crash of the water and the fact you were biting down the back of your free hand would cover the desperate moans you made.

Little did you know, the Mandalorian was going through the exact same thing, back arched, lips biting into his lip to stop the groans.

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, stop thinking about what had occurred between you.

Surely it broke some kind of rules of his Creed?

He had touched you with his bare skin. You weren’t married. You weren’t together. You didn’t even know his name.

Yet he had touched you and.. reacted to you.

Maybe that was just instinct, his body’s natural response to such things.

But he had carried on… until you were disturbed anyway.

Your head went round and round in these circles until your body had calmed down enough to sleep.

…

You rose early, wanting to be washed, dressed and ready and doing something to occupy you before you had to think too much about what you were going to say. Maybe just… Good morning?

Sure. Good morning was fine.

Normal.

It totally didn’t reveal what you’d had to do in the shower, or the thoughts you were still having about it.

You had this discussion with yourself all the way up the ladder of the cockpit, and when you rose to your height, you blurted it out in a cheery voice before you could bail, “Morning!”

Breezy. Nailed it.

The Mandalorian was sitting in the pilot’s chair, fiddling with controls and levers, gloves firmly on. “Good morning. Did you sleep okay in the heat?”

You nodded, sinking down into the pilots chair and feeding Duru a treat, “Yes, thank you. Finally.” You stroked under Duru’s chin, your eyes straying to those hands as he slide them over some switches.

The same hands that had cupped the back of your neck and trailed fire down your spine.

A flush started to creep along your cheeks, so you quickly looked away, “Did you?”

The light bounced off of his helmet as he nodded, “Yes, thank you.”

Polite. His words were polite. Almost... distant.

Okay… Okay, so maybe he just feels awkward?

You bit your bottom lip, worried if you should say something.

No, leave it. He no doubt feels over-exposed and maybe shy about what happened last night. Don’t bring it up. Just act normal.

You nodded faintly to yourself and returned your attention back to Duru.

Mando was ignoring you.

You had been trying to deny it, but he most certainly was.

Yesterday, he had engaged in talking to you now and then throughout the day, but only passing comments and a few spare words.

You had spoken more when you were beating the shit out of each other.

You kept telling yourself that it was just lingering awkwardness from how to go back to normal after that night, but the gnawing in your gut told you otherwise.

It had been shouting at you this morning when he had parked the ship on a planet, announced he was going hunting and he’d be back in a few hours.

Then he’d just gone.

You had waited for him all day, mooched around the ship, played with Grogu and Duru and tried not to worry.

You sat up for hours, even when the little ones had gone to sleep, waiting to talk to him.

You’d convinced yourself that you should talk about. You should tell him you didn’t expect anything from him. That you didn’t hate him, that he didn’t hurt you or anything like that.

Just to tell him whatever you needed to stop this frostiness.

You had it all planned, had every phrase and comment worked out to stop this atmosphere.

About 15 minutes ago, you’d heard the ramp open. 3 minutes after that, the hiss and echo of the carbonite chamber.

Then you’d heard him go and check on the kid, then go to his quarters.

And now, it was his booted feet on the steps to the cockpit that held your attention.

You took a deep breath, prayed to the Maker and spun your seat to face him as he rose up.

The mere sight of that beskar-clad body set your heart thumping, but you coaxed an easy smile on your lips anyway. “Hey, how was the hunt? Cause you any trouble?”

Mando didn’t turn his head to look at you, just padded over to his seat and spun it to the control panel, “It was fine. Easy.” His words were clipped, not harsh, just… efficient. Straight to the point.

You swallowed, your courage faltering a little.

Mentally, you scolded yourself. You didn’t falter in the face of a man who’d touched you and now wouldn’t talk to you. You didn’t whimper and pander to a tense atmosphere.

You sat up a little straighter, pulling your shoulders back and you looked over at him.

Now or never.

“About the other night-”

“I’m taking you to Nevarro.”

What?

You had both spoken at the same time, your eyes now bewildered as you beheld him. “What?”

He said nothing, just fiddled with some controls.

“Mando, what do you mean?” Your voice was shocked, but steady. Did nothing to betray the shock that had just hit your chest like a punch.

You didn’t hear him swallow, only heard his words, “I’m taking you to Nevarro. We’re on the way now.” He said them softly, evenly.

Hearing it again only made your heart drop to somewhere around your waist.

He was leaving you. Dumping you on some planet. And going.

Your hand tapped your leg as sort of nervous habit, and then the words were out, “Is this because of the other night?”

It was his turn to sound bewildered, his head just turning to the side, but you knew he couldn’t see you in his peripheral, “What? What do you mean?”

Your heart was starting to beat uncomfortably in your chest, a sense of shame beginning to creep over you, “Because of what happened in the kitchen. I didn’t see you, I didn’t see your skin.”

Mando turned to face you, one hand still on the panel, his hair half turned but head rotated all the way to look at you, “No, no it’s not because of that-“

You cut him off, “You didn’t… you didn’t offend me. Or hurt me. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry if.. if my reaction made you feel awkward or think something. I don’t.. I don’t expect anything from you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I never have, so please don’t think that.” You flushed, the shame colouring your cheeks. You couldn’t help it. But this was the reason, right? The only reason why he would be dumping you.

He shook his head, “Stop. Stop..” His voice softened slightly, “No. It’s not because of… that. I know you didn’t see me. And I know you don’t expect anything from me.” He took a breath, “I’m taking you to Nevarro to keep you safe. That’s all. I have friends there, Cara Dune and Greef Karga. They’ll look after you. They’ve already set up accommodation for you, so you don’t need to worry about that.

They already knew?

Something like hurt flashed in your eyes, colouring your tone, “They… You already planned this..?” There was no bite in your voice like you would normally have in this situation, you were too shocked by the sudden change in direction your journey was taking.

Mando tilted his head, “I contacted them whilst I was on the hunt… I wanted it set up before we got there, so you wouldn’t stand out to anyone looking.” He still looked at you, “Is that okay?”

You sensed you wouldn’t have a choice in this. So you decided to take the high road. You wouldn’t whine about this.

You smoothed your expression over into a mask of calm, “Yes… I was just a little surprised that’s all. But thank you, really. I’ll… set about packing my things.”

He sounded confused, his head tilting back to watch you rise from your chair, “We have a couple of days yet.”

You nodded, “Oh, I know, I just want to make sure I have everything. And all the things I want to steal from you.” You laughed, even going so far as to nudge his shoulder before escaping.

You were gone to quickly, so you wouldn’t have seen the way he slumped in his chair, dropped his head into his hands. You wouldn’t have heard the pained sigh that escaped his lips at the thought have having to part with you.

The Mandalorian stood at the top of the ramp with you, staring out across the dusty, volcanic terrain of Nevarro. Your new home for… however long.

You said nothing, running your fingers along the edge of your cloak, observing the landscape and trying not to let any emotion show on your face. You had kept up natural conversation the past few days. Saying nothing of the wrenching pain that tore in your chest every time you remembered you were departing.

Mando cleared his throat, one arm holding Grogu and the other hand resting on his hip in a gesture that was becoming painfully familiar, “Cara and Greef know you’re coming. They’ll be waiting in Cara’s office for you.”

Grogu was sulking, squirming every now and then to try and get out of Mando’s grip. He had screamed the whole morning, and only calmed down when you hugged him and sung to him on the way here.

You nodded, also trying to ignore the thoughts swirling round in your mind as to why he was leaving you here. Was it because of your argument? The way you had broken down in front of him? Or was it because of the other night? The way his fingers had run through your hair, and then trailed down your spine, mapping your tattoo. His bare fingers. The things he’d whispered to you, “I just... I need to do this, please… I’m sorry, but I cant-”

“I’ve been thinking about this for days..”

Had he known then that he was going to leave you here? Or was it after that, that he’d decided he had broken one too many rules and had to get rid of you.

Words floated over to you, and you realised he was talking again so you hauled your attention back to the conversation at hand.

“-safe here. No one will come looking for you. Greef has taken all the pucks that have come through with your name on them and Cara will do sweeps every couple of days to make sure.”

You looked down at your feet, a bitter feeling leeching through your veins that was getting stronger with every moment you got closer to leaving the Crest.

“Hey… look at me..”

It was that honey softness of the Mandalorian’s tone that finally had you looking up at him, your expression perfectly masked to hide every ounce of emotion in you aside from a calm neutrality.

He tilted his head a little, turning his body toward you, “Please don’t think I’m dumping you here. I had planned to bring you here since I destroyed the puck and the fob.”

Like that made you feel any better.

He must have read the flicker in your eyes, because he stepped closer, his hand lifting to your upper arm, “I want you to be safe.” You could almost feel his eyes boring into yours, “I am more than grateful for everything you’ve done for me. And the kid. More than you’ll ever know. But, travelling with me.. it only increases the target on your back. People know you’re with me. I don’t want that for you.. you deserve to be free..”

And what about what I want?

You only smiled, forcing your expression to one of a lighter one and you nudged him gently, “Hey, I get it. You have to get rid of me because I’m showing you up on hunts. Can’t have anyone destroying your infamous reputation.” You rolled your eyes, laughing even if it did send daggers into your heart.

And his.

He squeezed your shoulder playfully, then dropped his hand. “You’re hilarious. I told you, the day you beat me is the day the stars implode.” You could feel a line of humour in his voice though, and it softened your shoulders, made you relax.

He was doing this to keep you safe. He had planned this for weeks so you could have a break, a chance to rest.

So, you lifted your head a little higher, your smile becoming more real. “Thank you, Mando. For everything. I can’t ever repay you for this, for what you’ve done.” You motioned to the outside.

He nodded, his hand resting at his sides again now, “We’ll call it even.” His head remained focused on you, lingering on you and then he reached into a pouch and held out his free hand, “Here.”

You let him drop the objects in your hand, a small stack of credits.

“It’s not much, I know, but it’ll be enough to get you some food and supplies you need. You don’t need to worry about a place to stay, Cara will show you but… You can get what you want and need.” He withdrew his hand slowly, almost reluctantly.

You swallowed, closing your hand around the credits and you slipped them into the pocket inside your cloak. “Thank you..”

The Mandalorian merely nodded again, leaning back against the threshold of the ramp, his thumb absently rubbing circles on Grogu’s belly.

It seemed that there was nothing else to draw this goodbye out, so you took a breath, straightening your cloak. “Well… I guess I’ll say goodbye then.” You looked up at him, then stuck out your hand for his, realising only a few seconds later how dumb that was.

Before you could pull your hand back, he reached out and clasped your hand in his own, wrapping his fingers around your distinctly smaller hand. “Goodbye… princess.” You heard the smirk in his voice, and you couldn’t help the chuckle and the eye roll again, not failing to notice the way his hand tightened involuntarily and then withdrew.

You looked at Grogu in his other arm, who was still avoiding looking at the pair of you, wriggling in his father’s arms. You bent down to draw your face to his level and you stroked his ears, “I’ll miss you, little guy. Make sure to keep your dad on his toes, okay? You gotta make up for both of us now.” You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, feeling his little hand pat your cheek with a mournful noise. Tears burned the back of your eyes, so you leant back, instead picking up Duru so she could say goodbye.

Grogu cooed sadly again, stroking Duru’s cheek, looking up at her with his glossy eyes.

You let Duru but her head against him, chitter a goodbye and then you stepped back, allowing her to climb up your shoulders as you looked up at Mando.

You just watched him for a moment, his armour reflecting the light on one side and then, with a soft inhale of courage, you turned and walked down the ramp, Duru padding at your feet.

You had only just cleared the ramp, stepping onto the hard, compacted ground when Mando called out, “Wait.”

You turned quickly, hope blooming in your heart, in your expression though you tried to stop it.

He had made a step onto the ramp, body poised like it was trying to run to you but he was holding back. He hesitated, almost as if he were torn with what to say – or what not to say, but all that came out was, “Ret'urcye mhi.”

You couldn’t help the shiver that licked down your spine, the way his voice turned into dripping honey when he spoke Mando’a. “What does that mean..?” You prayed he couldn’t hear the slight hoarseness to your tone.

He tilted his head down to look at Grogu, then lifted it back up to you, “It means goodbye…. And maybe we’ll meet again..”

Your heart swelled a little, a flush of pain going through it but you smiled softer, your expression melting and you inclined your head slightly, “I would like that.. very much…”

There were a million other things that threatened to roll off your tongue, pour from you but before they could, you turned around, walking toward the town and feeling his eyes on you the entire time, burning into the back of your head like a fiery brand.

You were about 4 metres away when you heard Grogu start crying, when your own tears broke through and spilled down your cheeks. You kept walking, even when your vision began to blur and go fuzzy.

So you didn’t see the way Mando hugged Grogu closer, whispered, “I know, kid, I don’t want her to go either.”

You’d be okay. It would be fine.

So you and the Mandalorian were parting. It was no big deal. You had helped each other; you had returned each other’s debts. You owed each other nothing.

The sound of engines whirring filtered into your ears, and you waited until you heard the Crest lift from the ground before turning round.

You paused, wiping your cheeks as the ship that had become a haven of sorts lifted into the sky. It hovered for a second, as if hesitating and then shot up higher, taking with it the two people that you had come to mean more to you than you realised. It felt like the Razor Crest had taken your heart with it.

How comes you hadn’t realised before how much they meant?

Too late now.

You remained watching the sky, long after the ship had vanished into the atmosphere.

With a shuddering breath, you wiped your cheeks. You kissed Duru’s tail, and then returned to walking toward the town.

You’d be okay… right?

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #din djarin blurb #grogu #the force #star wars #rogue

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wetlapraswrites · 4 years ago

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Still Alive

My first ever fic so please go easy on me ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story or any part of the Walking Dead, this is just for fun and entertainment only.

Rated T. Warnings: Gore, implied major character death, some language, cannibalism.

This was the VERY FIRST fanfiction I ever wrote...ANDDDD there is a part two on the way!!!!!!!!!!!!

Daryl couldn't describe with any words what it felt like to set eyes on Carol after all this time, he thought he may never see her again after Rick had banished her from the prison community. There she was, standing there with his crossbow slung over her left shoulder.

The moment his eyes met hers, his mind took over his body and before he even realized it, he was running towards her with tears of joy pooling in the corners of his big blue eyes. Her smell, oh how he remembered that now as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his body and lifting her from the ground slightly, his hand ruffling the soft hair on the nape of her neck.

As the sun began to set and the group began to make camp for the night, Carol noticed something seemed very off with Daryl, he really didn't seem to be his usual self. The adrenaline of their initial embrace seemingly fading away and a terrible exhaustion was seeping through fresh cracks in Daryl's tough outer shell. Little chinks in his armor that he would never admit were there, but Carol could see them just fine and she certainly wasn't afraid to point them out to Daryl when the need arose.

He looked completely shattered, his movements were slow, as if he were dragging a heavy weight and he was unusually scared and jumpy. Daryl was never scared, the whole group knew something was wrong with Daryl, very wrong. Everyone knew better than to approach Daryl Dixon with concerns about his wellbeing, all apart from one that is, the omnipresent Carol.

Maybe it was the trauma of what he and the group had just been through, after all the sight of other humans killing and preparing other humans for food and being seconds away from becoming a cannibal's meal yourself would be enough to shatter even the most resilient souls. Daryl also blamed himself for Beth being snatched away by the mysterious car not too long ago. A girl he had once seen as a ditzy, dumb blonde, who had well and truly come into her own as the apocalypse had progressed. Proving herself to be quite strong and capable, so much so it considerably impressed Daryl. He remembered the meek, shy teenager she had been when they first arrived at her family's farm.

They had all fought so hard to reach terminus, those signs promising sanctuary luring the fragmented group in like frustrated moths that had been denied the sight of a flame for too long. Every day the journey towards Terminus posed many new threats, from the numerous walkers lingering round every corner, to dehydration and exposure their lives were never out of danger for a second along the way. Everyone had such high hopes of finding sanctuary, a place to start again after the fall of the prison at the hands of the Governor. Little did anyone know how these hopes would be dashed in such a horrific manner, one almost unimaginable before the dead began to walk around attacking the living and the world as humanity knew it had most certainly come to an end. One could even say that the things they saw in Terminus were worse than the dead walking around killing the living, worse than pretty much any conceivable nightmare scenario.

Daryl sat alone, his back against a tree and his elbows resting on his knees, a cigarette in desperate need of a good flick hanging loosely between his lips, he appeared lost in thought. Carol got up from the tree she had been sat against and cautiously approached him, 'what the hell happened to you in there?' she asked a rather fragile looking Daryl in a low, calm voice. 'Doesn't matter' he growled, 'ain't nothing you can do about it now' he replied, stubbing out the butt of his cigarette on a stone next to the tree. 'No I know that she replied but I'm worried about you, you don't look to well'. 'I'm fine!' Daryl snarled back at her. 'Well you look far from fine to me' Carol shot back, although her voice was still quiet and unusually calm, as she didn't want to agitate Daryl even more.

Something rustled a bush nearby, Daryl almost jumped out of his skin in anticipation of a walker or ten stumbling around about to invade their makeshift camp, or worse, those freaks from Terminus, he was somewhat relieved when a large rat scuttled out of the bush and away into the dark woods, but very disappointed in himself for having such a reaction. Daryl Dixon wasn't afraid of anything, period.

He was clearly far from alright and Carol knew it, after all she knew him well and well enough to know when something was wrong. He was obviously terrified and his reaction to the rat rustling the bushes proved that beyond doubt. There had been no time for sleeping or any kind of rest during their time in captivity at Terminus. This, Combined with the battle to escape the grips of both their cannibal captors and the hoard of walkers drawn to the disarray had left everyone exhausted and on edge, far more so than what everyone now classed as normal.

'Come here, come and sit with me' she demanded, holding out her hand to him in a gesture of kindness that Daryl wasn't used to. He appeared resigned by this point.

The black darkness of the night felt suffocating, and this combined with sheer exhaustion disoriented him considerably. He placed his head in his hands and sighed before taking Carol up on her offer of not spending the night alone feeling like he did. He slowly tried to stand up but his exhausted body was working against him. He whimpered and slowly sighed, suddenly he felt very weak as the last tiny remnants of energy deserted his tired body, he swayed on his feet as he tried to stand up straight, stars beginning to flood his vision. He reached for the tree he had been sat against to steady himself. Carol was quick to intervene, jumping up from where she sat, hastily arriving at Daryl's side, she gently wrapped her arm around his middle, holding him steady. 'Ugh' Daryl grunted as everything span around him and his body struggled to remain upright. 'Daryl, you're okay, I've got you, it's okay' Carol replied quickly as Daryl struggled to get his bearings and regain his balance.

He hated the fact Carol was having to physically help him stand after all he'd done and been through. 'Fuckin' pussy' he cussed at himself silently, damn near passing out from shock and exhaustion really wasn't what Dixons did.

Carol lay a rather tatty blanket out next to her and helped Daryl lay down, gently resting his head on a soft coat she had hastily fashioned into a pillow as he lay next to Carol. Daryl didn't want to give in to the exhaustion, he was afraid to sleep after the things he had just been subjected to inside Terminus. He felt too vulnerable and exposed and he HATED feeling like that. He had to stay awake and keep watch in case any of the psychos from Terminus came back, it was his job to look after everyone, not be looked after. 'How are you feeling now' Carol asked. ' Feel very drained and ache all over' the tired hunter growled groggily. 'Want to talk about what happened in there?' Carol calmly asked as she sat against the tree with Daryl laying on his back next to her, the palm of her hand resting on his shoulder. 'Nah, not now' Daryl replied, his voice seemed weak and he was struggling to keep awake. He hadn't seen Carol for too long, he wanted to just lay there and look at her but he couldn't keep his eyes open another second. Carol moved her hand from his shoulder and rested her arm by her side, Daryl took her hand and entwined his fingers with hers, finally letting his heavy eyelids fall closed. The world around him began to fade out as his exhausted body drifted into the dark abyss of sleep.

There he was bound and gagged on his knees in front of the trough in the slaughterhouse after being dragged from the Boxcar with Rick, Bob and Glen, awaiting his fate as he watched four others die one by one, smashed in the back of the head and their throats slit by Gareth's men, the boom of the flash grenade still resounding in his head. Gareth slunk around in front of the trough like a horror movie psychopath just before he brutally executed his victim. Daryl's entire life appeared before his eyes with each sickening thud of the bat hitting the skulls of his fellow survivors, a blur of hunting trips with Merle in the beautiful Georgia mountains to the savage crack of his drunken mess of a father's belt against as his skin, then her, Carol, the reason he had fought so hard to survive some days. Even when he felt hope deserting him, the image of her in the front of his mind had driven his already well-seasoned survival instincts. He struggled in a futile attempt to free himself but it was no use. He felt sick as blood seeped down the drainage hole in the trough, blood that was soon to mix with his.

He looked up and saw corpses in various stages of being prepared for food and imagined himself being savagely dismembered in the same way. His mind shifted again to the absent Carol and how much he loved her. What he thought was his last thought, he'd survived the apocalypse just to die at the hands of Gareth and his band of insane cannibal freaks like a goddamned animal, slowly drifted through his mind. All he saw was blood, blood, filth and death, the unbearable stench of death hung heavily in the air. The clack of butcher knives resonating in his ears.

Gareth suddenly whistled to one of his cronies 'bring her out!' he shouted. A female figure was dragged out of one of the side rooms by two other men, a canvas bag over her head and her hands bound behind her back with rope. Gareth let out a sadistic, evil laugh as one of the men tore the bag off of her head. Daryl violently grunted and struggled as his eyes met those of a defeated Carol, resigned to her fate. A huge sob balled in his dry throat, he struggled as best he could against his bindings, but to no avail. Gareth approached the two men, who released Carol to him with a violent shove that caused her to stumble towards him, and without a word, he suddenly pulled out a large knife and slit her throat right there in front of the bound and gagged group.

Blood gushed from the wound, and Daryl watched helplessly as her lifeless body collapsed to the ground. His senses deserted him, all the breath he had left was suddenly sucked from his body as more blood pooled out of Carol's lifeless body right there in front of him. 'Haha, was she yoursss' Gareth taunted after witnessing Daryl's desperate struggle. 'We caught the stupid bitch outside the fence trying to blow up one of our propane tanks with a bottle rocket, must have been some half assed attempt to save your sorry asses. Hope quickly deserted him and he waited to join Carol in the darkness of death. He was screaming inside, totally unable to comprehend the horror unfolding around him. Blood, blood, blood everywhere, dismembered body parts, more blood, human entrails hanging from huge meat hooks suspended from the ceiling, NOOO he screamed inside, this simply could not be happening...NO NOO NOOOOO...

'Daryl!' a familiar voice shook him awake as he somehow found the strength to suddenly pull himself upright, yelling NOOOO!, gasping and shaking. Carol felt as if she'd only been asleep for about five minutes before being woken suddenly by Daryl thrashing and whimpering. ''Daryl it's okay, you're okay, it was just a dream, a bad dream, you're safe now' 'It's only me, Carol' she almost whispered, placing her hand gently on Daryl's back and slowly running it down his spine and back toward his neck. You're dead, you're dead! I was there, they died...they're all dead!, he killed you, he killed you!', Daryl shot back, still only half awake, his eyes wild with terror and his body shaking like a leaf caught in the autumn breeze. It was very late now, the camp was in darkness, the small fire they had lit long since gone out and the rest of the group were asleep. 'No, I'm alive, Daryl, it was just a dream' Carol whispered. The pitch darkness scared Daryl in a way it never had before, he could not remember ever feeling so afraid, not even when Merle had left him alone at the hands of his bastard drunken father or that time he got lost in the woods for nine days as a kid. He was not afraid of anything, let alone the dark. This felt different, very different, a whole new evil that very few humans had ever stumbled upon before.

He could clearly see Gareth and his men lurking in the woods, waiting for the group to all be asleep so they could finish what they started. Daryl felt cold, physically and emotionally, and he shuddered against the cool night air. Carol quietly rummaged in the bags and managed to find another blanket without further disturbing the others and wrapped it around Daryl. He trembled a little as she gently tucked a strand of his rapidly growing hair behind his ear, images of the nightmare he'd just had still too fresh in his mind. 'Shh, just be still, it's ok, those people can't hurt you now' she whispered. 'What happened in there was truly awful but it's over now, we're all alive, we're together again and we're all safe'.

Daryl lay still with his head in her lap, she slowly stroked his long, soft brown hair and reassured him it was ok and he was safe to sleep now. 'Get some rest' she whispered. Daryl closed his eyes again, letting himself be lulled by Carol's soft, slow breathing and gentle warmth, with that and the soothing sensation of her fingers running through his hair, he finally drifted off into a thankfully dreamless sleep. Carol stayed awake until she was sure Daryl was asleep, then she closed her eyes too and finally both were asleep.

Carol woke to the sunlight shining down on them through the trees, Daryl was still asleep , she looked down at him and thought how peaceful he now looked compared to when she was first reunited with him. She shifted a little, Daryl stirred, 'morning' she whispered. She placed her hand against Daryl's back as he slowly sat up, stretching out his arms in an attempt to wake up some more. Rick walked cautiously over to the pair, and asked 'what happened last night? I heard him yelling in the night, is he ok?' 'yeah she replied softly but he's pretty shaken by what went on in that awful place.'How do you feel today hun?' asked Carol, Daryl replied 'still totally freaked out by it all to be honest' Carol held his hand and he explained that he could not rid himself of the awful things he had seen and been subjected to in the Terminus compound. It didn't look like Daryl was alone in his state of shock either, the daylight revealed the looks of disbelief and horror on the faces of most of the others too. Daryl was already exhausted before this ordeal, he didn't get even a quarter of the amount of sleep his body needed. This had allowed he shock and trauma to completely envelop him, culminating in the awful night he'd just had.

'You're safe now, we will never let another one of those imbeciles hurt any of us again' said Rick. 'We all went through hell in there, you know you can talk about it with any of us anytime right?' ' yeah I know' growled Daryl as Rick slowly walked back towards the others thinking it best to allow Carol to help Daryl using that magic touch she seemed to have whenever it came to helping anyone in any kind of distress. Carol was the only one who'd ever really got through the tough hide that enveloped Daryl's psyche.

Daryl still felt exhausted, both emotionally and physically, but he was so grateful for the few hours rest he did manage to get thanks to Carol's presence. He sat up and wrapped his arms around Carol, 'thank you' he said slowly. 'What for exactly ?' Carol replied with a playful tone, 'helping me last night, I don't think I've ever felt anything like that before' 'no need to thank me hun, it's the least I could do, you've all been through something nobody should ever have to face'.

'I thought we were all dead' Daryl said slowly, staring at the ground, tears pooling in the corners of his brilliant blue eyes. He began to tremble again, as his mind recalled what he had seen in Terminus, and the bleak thought that one of the screams he had heard inside the compound may have belonged to Beth. 'I thought I'd never see any of you again', his voice starting to crack slightly with a degree of emotion he seldom liked to show, but he couldn't help it by this point. If there was one thing Daryl loathed it was this kind of desolate feeling of helplessness. 'I can still see the bodies, the blood... I couldn't do anything to help them' Daryl shook again, a tear snaking down his pale cheek.

He remembered the cries of anguish coming from the containers and boxcars that dotted the Terminus compound. I can still hear them screaming and crying out, I couldn't help them, I couldn't... Daryl trailed off, shaking again. 'You helped get us all out Daryl, we're alive' Carol said quietly as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. 'We will find Beth, I walked through a lot of that compound and saw no signs Beth was ever there', Carol said to Daryl. 'I found all your weapons and possessions but there was nothing there that belonged to Beth'.

Daryl turned to Carol, placed his large rough hand onto the back of her head and pulled her closer, his lips met hers, his tongue slowly parting them and meeting hers as their lips both locked into a slow, passionate kiss. For a few seconds their tongues danced with one another before their lips eventually parted and Daryl spoke. 'Thank you Carol and I really mean that, thank you for being here, thank you for everything you have done for me and the entire group', Daryl said in a low, gruff voice. 'It's fine Daryl, I care very much for all of you, and you, I love you'. I love you too replied Daryl, 'nobody and nothing will ever take you away from me'.

The end.

#fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon #twd caryl

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wetlaprasfanfiction · 7 years ago

Text

Still Alive.

My first fic so please go easy on me ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story or any part of the Walking Dead, this is just for fun and entertainment only.

Rated T. Warnings: Gore, implied major character death, some language, cannibalism.

Set at the beginning of Strangers, just after sunset. After escaping from Terminus in a blaze of cannibals, bullets and walkers, Daryl and Carol are reunited. Recent events have left the usually invincible Daryl feeling pretty shook up, can Carol set things right again?

Hurt/Comfort/Romance

'Come here, come and sit with me' she demanded, holding out her hand to him in a gesture of kindness that Daryl wasn't used to. He appeared resigned by this point.

The black darkness of the night felt suffocating, and this combined with sheer exhaustion disoriented him considerably. He placed his head in his hands and sighed before taking Carol up on her offer of not spending the night alone feeling like he did. He slowly tried to stand up but his exhausted body was working against him. He whimpered and slowly sighed, suddenly he felt very weak as the last tiny remnants of energy deserted his tired body, he swayed on his feet as he tried to stand up straight, stars beginning to flood his vision. He reached for the tree he had been sat against to steady himself. Carol was quick to intervene, jumping up from where she sat, hastily arriving at Daryl's side, she gently wrapped her arm around his middle, holding him steady. 'Ugh' Daryl grunted as everything span around him and his body struggled to remain upright. 'Daryl, you're ok, I've got you, it's ok' Carol replied quickly as Daryl struggled to get his bearings and regain his balance.

The end.

#twd Daryl fanfiction

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