#trying to get back into the swing of things with drawing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daryltwdixon · 3 days

Text

The Ruins of Us: Chapter 6

Summary: The memory of Daryl sneaking through the window after the heated argument brings much needed respite. But in the present, tension crackles at the CDC as you witness the conversation between between Shane and Lori behind closed doors. Tempers flare, and just as the air thickens with hostility, the danger shifts and now Shane is the one you're afraid of while within the safe walls of the CDC.

Content warnings: mention of physical abuse against Daryl and Reader, blood, explicit language. Shane is an asshole. *but reader stands up for herself!

please forgive the writing of the scenes of the actual show. I'm trying my best to not cram dialogue down your throat, but at the same time stay somewhat true to what's going on in the scene.

x still in flashback x

You wake to the sound of tapping. You groggily lift yourself off your bed, still dressed in last night's clothing. You rub your eyes, trying to orient yourself, feeling heavy and puffy. You peek at your bedside table alarm clock: 2:00AM.

You hear the tapping again, and realize it’s coming from your window. You slowly get up and put your face up to the glass, cupping your hand to see through the fog of dust collected on the pane.

You see a familiar face just below the window with a pained look on his face. You stepped back, taking a moment to deliberate. But of course you pushed open the window enough to let Daryl Dixon into your room. It’s hard to believe but Daryl is so graceful. You chalk it up to the careful, patient side to him that makes him an incredible hunter and tracker. It only takes him a couple seconds to grab atop the window and swing his legs in. He landed on your bed feet first, kneeling in a crouched position to face you. It’s then you smelled the alcohol ripe on his breath.

“Hey,” he murmured in a breathy tone, fanning your face with the smell of beer.

“Hey,” you repeated back. You sat and readjusted yourself into bed, sitting up against the wall by your pillows. You pulled your legs in tight to your chest, holding them there with your fists clenched. You stared at each other for a few heartbeats. You let your eyes close, the exhaustion like a heavy weight on you.

“I’m sorry,” he finally breathed out.

“I know,” you said, even quieter than a whisper. You open your eyes to look at him.

“No–you don’t. I should’na said them things to you,” he shook his head, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to sit in front of you, “I just…I…” he trailed off, looking away.

“I care about you too, Dare,” you murmur, reaching for his arm. He just nods. You look at him with a small smile, letting your knees fall away from your chest, “you’re drunk,”

“And you look terrible,” he laughed quietly, finally getting a good look at you. He does a double take, his smile vanishing.

“The hell is that?” he asked roughly, looking pointedly at you. You looked back at him confused. He suddenly stood and pulled you up out of the bed to face your bedroom mirror. It’s clouded from years of dust piling on it, and the drawings you left over the years in permanent marker. But you could still see the splotchy purple bruises against your clavicle. You hadn’t even bothered to look in the mirror when you got home, you were in such a state. Looking at yourself now, your hair was a rat’s nest, clinging to your face that was sticky with dried tears. You hadn’t even changed out of the shirt with the broken strap, making you look even more disheveled. Your face was as puffy as you expected, but you couldn’t stop staring at the bruising across your chest. You brought your fingers up to your neck, letting out a little gasp at the pain when you pressed into them.

Daryl came up behind you, looking at you in the mirror, “I didn’t see them bruises earlier today, Y/N,” he paused, "Were you with him?” eyes narrowing on you. You just met his eyes in the mirror as a confirmation.

“I’ll kill em’” he growled.

“Daryl, it’s fine. I’m fine. We just had a fight,” you spin around to face him. He’s pacing the room, shoulders hiked up and chest puffed.

“I’ll kill em’ right now,” he spat out.

“Daryl, are you bleeding?” you ask in shock. Your grogginess is washed away in an instant. His shirt is damp with deep red that glistened wet in the moonlight coming through your window. He mumbles something along the lines of “it don’t matter,” but you stop him mid stride, turning him to face away from you to look at his back.

“ ‘S nothin’” he says, trying to roll his shoulders to shift out of your grip.

You just hold onto him tighter, trying to keep your hands away from whatever is underneath. You gently pull up the blood soaked t-shirt and see new welts against his back.

You gasp, “Your dad–”

“Yeah…he was home tonight,” he says hoarsely, turning to face you, “was mad we was in the shed today,”

“But didn’t he say—“

“I know, when I told em it was his dumbass that told me to finish up what he made, he started in on me with the belt,” he grumbled.

Your vision is blurred by sudden angry tears as you gently help him take the shirt off with shaking hands. You ran to your kitchen, the house still dark but a man your mother must've brought home is snoring on the couch. You tiptoed across the room for a bowl of water and an old rag, sneaking back into your room. You glanced quickly into your mother’s room–she’s sprawled out on the bed half naked. At least she was home safe. You quietly closed her door before rounding into your room.

Daryl sat on the edge of the bed with his legs hanging off. He’s bent over, his head in his hands.

“Here,” you sat by him, starting to dab at the bloody welts on his back. He sucked air in between his teeth, hissing at the pain. You quietly worked next to him, cleaning his back gently, working meticulously to keep the pain at bay. After a while, Daryl looks over at you, searching your eyes before looking away again.

“Couple a’ misfit broken toys, eh?” he let out a dark, breathy laugh. You chuckled, nodding to him. You’re still holding onto the damp, red stained rag and bowl in your hands even when you’re done cleaning him up. He looked at you for a long moment before taking them from you and setting them down on the bedside table. He turned back to you, and his hand came up towards you and you flinched, causing him to pause before gently placing his fingers across your clavicle. He bit the inside of his lip, anger flooding his eyes. You let him trace the colorful marks on your neck for a long moment before bringing your hand up on top of his and down into your lap. You held it there, looking down and tracing the scars across his knuckles. You could smell the alcohol on his breath from here, and when you looked up at him again, his face was pained, staring at his hand in your lap.

“Don’t worry about me, Daryl,” you finally said. He looks up at you, his brows furrowed.

“I’ll be alright,” you said quietly, “I promise. I, uh, actually applied to some colleges earlier this summer and uh…well, I got accepted,” you said carefully, not meeting his eyes now. He looked surprised for a moment, but it turned into a blank expression as he nodded, understanding.

“Thas’ great,” he mumbled, “ ‘m happy for ya,”

You gave him a small smile and let go of his hand. Out of sheer impulse, you’re leaning toward him and kiss him on the cheek, leaning your face into his neck.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” you murmur. Your hands are in your own lap, knowing better than to wrap them around him. He leans into you, his cheek against your hair.

“ ‘M sorry too,” he whispers.

x flash forward x

Everyone is running for the open door, guns held up. Carol and Lori grip their children’s hands like a vice and bring them in through the doors.

“Daryl, you cover the back,” Shane orders, looking at the two of you. Daryl looks over to you, nods back at Shane, and pushes you forward.

“Daryl–” you protest.

“Go,” he says sharply.

You stride in front of him to your chagrin, rifle held high in your arms. Rick is repeating “hello? Hello?” over and over into the cavernous entryway. It’s dim inside, you’re looking around searching for any sign of life. Behind you, you see nothing but pitch black sky now.

“Close those doors,” you say to Daryl, “could be walkers,” looking over your shoulder. He ignores you, staring straight ahead to the back of the room.

Rick shouts another “hello?” into the void, and there was the sound of a gun being loaded in front of the group. A man stands in the darkness of the back of the entry, shotgun pointed to you all. Everyone instantly brings their weapons up in defense, ready to fire.

“Anybody infected?” the man shouts. He looks… clean. A stainless gray t-shirt hangs loosely on him, dark sweatpants and socks on. There’s no one else with him. Rick answers him, telling him about Jim not making it. The man with the shotgun demands to know what you all want, Rick says simple: “a chance”

“That’s asking an awful lot these days,” he replies. You take this moment to look around the group, assessing everyone. Lori stands with Carl behind Rick, next to Carol and her daughter. Shane is to their right, standing partially in front of Lori, protecting. Andrea and Jaqui are together, no gun in hand. Everyone’s eyes are pleading. Everyone but Daryl whose eyes are narrowed in his usual suspicious fashion toward the stranger, his crossbow held up in his hands.

The man slowly approaches, “You’ll all submit to a blood test. Price of admission,” lowering his gun, “you have stuff to bring in? Get it now, once that door closes it stays closed,” he points toward the back. Your half of the group still half outside runs ahead, ready to come in in an instant. You all file into the elevator behind the doctor. He speaks to the monitor on the side of the wall to seal the main entrance and kill the power.

Rick introduces himself to the man, holding his hand out to shake.

“Doctor Edwin Jenner,” the stranger says, not taking Rick’s outstretched hand.

“Doctors always go around packin’ heat like that?” you say. Daryl lets out a chuckle next to you and you smile when you meet his eye.

“Plenty leftover lying around and I acquainted myself with them,” Dr. Jenner replies. He teases Carl about being the only one that’s a threat anyway.

You all make your way through the building with trepidation. You are brought into the main control area– the whole building is practically empty. Dark screens on most computers but one in the center. There are only one or two overhead lights on, casting everyone in stark shadow.

“Where is everybody? Doctors? Staff?” Rick asks.

“I’m it.” the doctor replies.

He’s all that’s left.

“Sorry,” he says quietly.

He takes you all to a room off the side of the main circular control room, where there are desks lined up and a whiteboard, clearly what used to be a teaching space. You all relax against the wall, waiting for him to take our blood. You go first.

You sit with your arm stretched out to him, and he is taking a small vial of blood from you. You’ve never been queasy, but the feeling of a needle going in your arm and draining you begins to make you go faint. Daryl is by you, searching your face when it turns green as you stand. He holds you up as you’re starting to stumble as you walk.

“You okay?” Dr Jenner asks, curious.

“She ain’t eaten in days,” he growls at the doctor.

“None of us have,” says Jaqui, gently, from behind you.

After everyone is done getting blood drawn, you’re led into a bigger room with a large table. Jenner has everyone sit as he brings out food and wine. Wine. To be honest, the only wine you ever drank was the dirt cheap jugs of it that you stole from the corner store and even that was seldom. You and Daryl were more the beer or hard liquor types as kids. But this was the good stuff. Dale is pouring glasses out to everyone, teasing to let Carl taste some. Food is brought out and laid around the table and your stomach rumbles loudly again. You happily grab for the spread of food laid out in front of you.

“You know in Italy,” Dale chuckles, pouring another glass, “children have a little wine with their dinner,” you all laugh as Lori has an unimpressed look on her face, “and in France!”

She grins and says, “Well when Carly is in Italy and France he can have some then” but ends up finally giving in on Rick’s contradiction. Carl makes everyone laugh again when he makes a face after taking his first sip, “Ewwww!”

You hiccup when you laugh and everything finally feels…normal? Safe even?

Lori is smiling as she takes the cup from Carl and pours it into her own, and you look over to see Rick grinning widely.

“Well,” Shane’s voice comes from the left of you, “Stick to soda pop there, bud”

You look over and smile at him then, wine warming your cheeks.

“Not you Glenn,” Daryl chides from the other side of you, “I wanna see how red your face can get!”

You look over to the guy with the baseball cap from earlier. You finally put a face to the name, Glenn . The one who rescued Rick in Atlanta and brought him to the group. A fast kid from what Daryl had told you. Used to deliver pizzas for god sake.

Rick is clinking his glass and standing, raising it to Dr Jenner, “we haven’t thanked our host,”

Everyone raises their glass to Dr. Jenner, saying their thanks and praise.

“Booyah!” Daryl shouts which elicits more laughter.

“When are you gonna tell us what happened here, Doc?” Shane’s gravely voice rings out over the laughter. He continues on, not caring about everyone’s groans, asking about the other doctors and scientists that were here before. You look over at Shane, who is looking past you to Doctor Jenner. You’re searching his face, wondering why he has to ask this now. Was it the wine making him so serious? You’d never really seen him drunk now that you think of it.

“We don’t need to do this now, Shane, we’re celebrating,” Rick says, echoing your thoughts.

“Now wait a second,” he says, looking over at Rick expectantly, “that’s the whole reason why we’re here, right?”

Shane continues on, scoffing at the fact that instead of finding answers, the group only found one man. You look down, knowing he’s right, but still. This could’ve waited until everyone had settled in. After you were fed or well rested.

“Why?” Shane asks, looking over at the doctor with finality.

“When things went back a lot of people left,” Jenner responds. He tells you they bolted or couldn’t face walking out the door.

“They…opted out,”

“Why didn’t you leave?” Andrea asks.

“I just kept working,” he replies.

“Shane, you are such a buzzkill,” Glenn mutters, passing by behind you. People start murmuring to themselves, back to other conversations. After everyone has had their fill, the doctor clears his throat.

“Why don’t I show you where you’ll be sleeping?” Jenner says.

You’re following the doctor around the corridor with the group, and he’s explaining the electricity situation in the building. You can’t help but let your mind and eyes wander. Everything is so gray. So sterile around you. You’re half amazed at how clean the place is, really. Your ears prick up though at the end of Jenner’s tour.

“If you shower, go easy on the hot water,” your eyes widen, mirroring others' looks of astonishment.

Glenn turns around with the same amazed look on his face, “hot water?”

You all break out into smiles.

Turns out only a couple of showers run at the same time, so you wait your turn, not upset to go last. You were used to tepid showers as a kid so you didn’t push for first in line in case the hot water ran out. Everyone has filed into their rooms to put their things down and grab shower necessities.

You wrap yourself in a towel in your room, holding it snug around you. Even the towels are warm. You press your face into it before pulling it around yourself completely. Once you're out of your room, you see Shane on his way in a towel towards the showers.

“Hey,” you call to him, “want to save some water?” you ask cheekily.

He’s looking at you with that twinkle in his eye that you haven’t seen in so, so long. You open your mouth to tell him to join you, when he straightens and looks behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you see Lori is coming up the hallway looking at the two of you with Rick close behind her. Their bodies that are visible out of their crisp white towels are glistening in beads of water, her hair soaked and messy. Rick is grinning bigger than you’ve ever seen before. You smile back at him, watching them pass you by and go into their own room. Lori’s face goes from a wide smile to a grim look as she sees you and Shane. You turn to look at Shane with a big smile, but it quickly fades as he wears a scowl across his face. He is shaking his head, rubbing his face in one hand while the other rests on the towel at his hips.

“You go on now,” he grumbles out, “I’ll shower in a minute,”

Your shoulders slump in the loss of a promise. You watch him turn away and stomp down the hall, grabbing the half empty wine bottle that sits on the floor, opening and taking a swig as he stalks off.

You sigh and make your way over to the showers. As you turn around into the first available stall, you collide into a wet body.

“Jesus, watch where you’re goin, woman,” Daryl’s voice says above you. His towel is knotted around his waist where he holds it in place. You can’t help but roam your eyes down his torso to where his hands lay resting. Small scars litter his smooth skin from where his father put cigarettes out on him as a kid. His body is glistening with beads of warm water, his beard still dripping wet. When you look back up into his eyes, his cheeks are pink–perhaps from the wine or warmth of the shower. “I’m just testin’ your reflexes,” you crack a smile at him. He looks over your shoulder at Shane exiting the hallway and flashes his eyes back to you, taking his time to search your face. His eyes glance down to where you’re holding your towel around you. You’re still nearly up against him from when your bodies crashed into each other, and suddenly you feel very aware of how little you’re both wearing. You gulp as he’s looking down at you, breathing heavy. He isn’t saying anything, just…staring at you. There’s something behind his eyes you haven’t seen before. Suddenly your eyes flicker down to his mouth, but think better of yourself and take a wide step back.

“Gotta go shower,” you mumble, quickly passing him.

When you’re finally scrubbed down and satisfied with your incredible, hot, steamy, amazing shower, you are wringing your hair out when you hear a door slam at the end of the hallway. You peek your head out the bathroom and see another door slam. The rec room. With trepidation, you make your way down the hall on tiptoes, water dripping onto the floor as you go.. You hear arguing inside, potentially a man and a woman. It only takes a moment of leaning against the door to recognize Shane’s voice behind it. His voice is raised and you can only make out that he’s talking about a hospital–no heartbeat, something happening and thinking someone was dead. Wasn’t it Rick who said he woke up from a coma?

But now they’re speaking in hushed tones and you really can’t make out what they're saying. Just some knocking around and whispers. You press your ear against the door harder.

“I love you,” you hear Shane say. There’s more movement and their voices jumble together so you can’t make out anything else behind the door.

But then you can hear a woman nearly screaming, “get your hands off me! Get your hands off me! Please! Stop!” your eyes widen and step back from the door. Oh god, oh god.

Your heart is in your throat as you step back from the door. Immediately the voices stop and everything is quiet.

The door swings open and Shane is there. He stops dead in his tracks, angry red scratches down his neck. You look over his shoulder and see Lori Grimes against a ping pong table, a stricken, terrified look on her face.

“What did you do?” you whispered to Shane. Your heart is still pounding in your ears as you draw back, clutching your towel to your body tighter.

“Now, Y/N, I don’t know what you think you heard,” he begins, closing the door behind him.

“What I think I heard, Shane? What the fuck?” you whisper in a high pitch voice, “I think I just heard you trying to attack Lori ,”

He steps forward toward you, and you pull yourself back, trying to push even further into the wall if it were possible. He stops, a wild look in his eyes, balling his fists. Suddenly he rushes you, his hand on your throat, pinning you against the wall.

“Ain’t nobody gonna believe you,” he whispers with venom, his wine soaked breath fanning your face, “you think Rick would ever listen to a redneck whore before believing his own best friend ?”

You’re trying to gulp down air but he’s holding you tight against the wall, “You’re drunk,” you manage to say, your eyes threatening to shut when you start seeing dark edges around your vision.

“Swear to me,” he growls, his nose against the side of your face as you look away, squeezing your eyes shut. You’ve seen Shane get rough before– had him hold you against him demanding things of you. But you never feared for your life like this. You didn’t know this man. This was a different man than the one you spent almost every summer night with. This was not the man who held you under the stars, that made sure you made it home safe every night, the one who would give you money for new boots that fit, made love to you in the bed of his truck, the one who made you feel safe. This wasn’t him. Not anymore. That Shane was long gone, you finally realized. And you wanted to be far, far away from him. But the one thing you learned from growing up with the Dixon brothers is you never back down from a threat, no matter how much bigger it is than you. Never.

You narrow your eyes on him, “whatever happened to ‘I love you Y/N’, ‘You’re the only girl for me, Y/N’?” You let out hoarsely, “The world ends and you go off and rescue your best friend's wife instead of your own girlfriend, and then what? You two fuck or something? Her husband comes back from the dead and I come out of the woods and what? What did you expect to happen, Shane?” You’re on your last breath of oxygen, fighting against his grasp. One of your hands is still clutching your towel and the other is clawing his arm.

He pushes his hand further up your throat, so you’re standing on your toes, “I ain’t your boyfriend , never was,” he taunts, “You were just some easy piece for me to play with in the nights I was all alone. Now swear to me you’ll keep your mouth shut about this,” He’s shaking with rage now, and you see down the hall Lori scurry out the rec room from the other exit. She looks briefly over her shoulder at you, and runs back down the hall. You were alone in the corridor with Shane, everyone having gone to bed now. The words he spews take a moment to sink in, your eyes pricking with the betrayal of tears. You refuse to let this man see you in tears again. Your mouth is opening and closing, trying to suck in any air you can as he still has you pressed up against the wall. Your vision is narrowing more and more, dark shapes caving in around Shane’s face in front of you. He brings his fist up in the air, and when your body starts to go limp, it’s like he realizes where he is, what he’s doing. He lets go of you, ripping his arm away and letting you fall to the floor. You sag onto the ground, coughing and gasping for breath. As you gulp down air, your vision comes back clearer and clearer and you look up to see his feet receding. Exhaustion and dizziness overtakes you, and you lay on the carpeted hallway floor. Your wet hair is sticking to your face, still dripping onto your back. You let your eyes close now as you tremble on the floor. You feel frozen to this spot–not enough strength in the world that could make you get up.

When you wake up the next morning, you’re on a cot covered in a large comforter. As you groggily open your eyes, you realize you’re in a big t-shirt and underwear. You sit up suddenly, disoriented. The last thing you remember is falling asleep on the floor in the hallway last night. A soft snoring to your right makes you jump as you see Daryl sleeping on a couch across from you. Your entire body lights up on fire as you imagine him finding you, naked in the hallway…and dressing you in clothes and putting you to bed. He stirs and you quietly but swiftly get up, trying your best not to wake him. You manage to turn the knob without a sound and bolt out of the room.

chapter 7 is here

#it's a long one #daryl #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd

21 notes · View notes