(Click HERE to read Keep You Safe Part 3)
(Click HERE to read Keep You Safe Part 2)
(Click HERE to read Keep You Safe Part 1)
SUMMARY : (Set late Season 3) The Reader and Daryl find themselves in a life or death situation. It was supposed to be a simple hunt - but when do things ever work out the way you plan?
REQUESTED BY : @distressed-honkingâ (The reader is sick or injured and Daryl has to keep them safe.)
A/N : We made it!!! The final part of Keep You Safe! Thank you to everyone who stuck by me through this series and for being so patient and kind! I hope this final part lives up to all your expectations. Big thank you to @jodiereedus22 for always being there when I got stuck and needed a second opinion! Thank you to everyone who followed this series. Love you all so so much! Hope you guys enjoy!
Daryl gently pulled at his coat you had laying over your lap, exposing the wound while still keeping you covered. He turned the knife over in his hands once more, inspecting the blade, before looking up at you. âMâ sorry,â he whispered, his face torn.
It shouldâve been an easy run.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and scrunched up the rag, bringing it to your mouth and biting down hard as Daryl brought the knife to your leg.
And then you started screaming.
You thought being impaled by an arrow was the worst pain youâd ever been in â until this moment.
Each time Daryl pressed the blistering metal against your leg, you couldnât fight back the scream that bellowed from deep in your chest. You bit down harder on Darylâs rag, somewhat muffling your cries as tears streamed down the sides of your cheeks.
It shouldâve been an easy run.
The smell of burning skin filled the room and you had to force down the bile that rose to your throat.
You dug your fingernails into the palm of your hand, slamming your fist against the couch, praying to whatever God was still listening to make the torture stop.
At one point, you physically couldnât take the pain anymore and began thrashing on the couch, hoping you would eventually just pass out.
Next thing you knew, Daryl was throwing his body on top of yours, pinning your flailing arms down at your sides while he continued to burn the wound closed.
You could hear Daryl repeating something over and over, but couldnât quite make out what it was over the blood pounding through your ears.
âP-please,â you sobbed through the rag, not exactly sure who you were begging to â you just wanted the pain to stop.
You managed to wiggle one arm out from under Daryl, who was still lying half on top of you. Gripping onto the fabric of his vest, you balled your hand into a fist and groaned as the knife sizzled against your skin once again.
It shouldâve been an easy run.
At some point, you mustâve blacked out â one moment you were feeling every nerve end in your thigh being set on fire and the next, just nothing.
You heard soft murmuring as your eyes slowly cracked open. âMâ sorry, mâ sorry, mâ sorry, mâsorry,â came a low rumbling from above you.
Your eyes landed on Daryl, who was perched on the side of the couch, his back to you as he worked on your leg. You didnât feel the pain anymore, just a throbbing tenderness.
Craning your neck slightly, you saw Daryl was gently wrapping your leg, leaving enough room between the cloth and your skin for the wound to breathe. He was shaking his head, apologizing over and over and you felt your heart break a little.
You wanted to tell him you were fine â that you were going to be okay, that it wasnât his fault. But you couldnât seem to bring yourself to speak.
Instead, you gently placed a hand on his bicep, causing him to quickly turn around.
The expression on his face was enough to shatter your heart completely â his blue eyes were glassy with unshed tears, face constricted and pale, mouth drawn into a tight line.
Daryl sighed quietly, somehow looking even more sad than before â his face seemingly etched into a permanent frown. He reached towards you, slowly pushing a piece of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear.
Neither of you spoke, each just staring silently at one another â the only sound coming from the crackling, dwindling fire.
You felt numb but decided to enjoy the lack of sensation â knowing that once tomorrow came and your body bounced back from survival mode, youâd be feeling every bit of pain you couldnât feel now.
Still, you couldnât be mad. You were alive. You were breathing. You were here.
You survived and a big reason for that was because of the man sitting in front of you.
Overcome with emotion, tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at the archer. A warmth spread throughout your chest, a feeling you couldnât quite place enveloping you as you gently took his hand in yours.
He flinched at the sudden contact, but his hand eventually wrapped itself around yours.
âThank you,â you finally mustered out, your voice barely above a whisper.
Daryl grunted and shook his head, casting his eyes down. âDonât,â he rumbled.
âHey,â you shot back, trying to catch his gaze. âHey,â you tried again, a little more forceful as you squeezed his hand. He glanced up at you, looking like a boy whoâd just seen his puppy get kicked. âStop doing that to yourself,â you finished softly, knowing where his head was at.
âStop,â you cut him off. âIt is not your fault,â you said, emphasizing each word.
Daryl just shook his head once more. âYa couldâa died. I couldâa killed ya,â he grumbled lowly, face twisted with guilt.
âIt was an accident, Daryl. You saved my life,â you urged, needing him to forgive himself.
The archer just shrugged one shoulder up, looking away as he pulled his hand from your grasp. âDonât matter.â
You sighed aloud, shutting your eyes for a moment, unsure how to get through to him.
By the time you opened your eyes again, a sudden heaviness had settled over you. Your eyelids felt like they were weighted, your body tired and sore and ready to shut down.
Daryl saw you fading and quickly stood up from the couch, your eyelids drooping further down.
âGet some sleep,â he grumbled softly, pulling his hand away.
And before you could protest, the world faded away.
You didnât know how long youâd been asleep â it couldnât have been long because when you woke up again, it was still dark out.
It felt like the longest night of your life.
You scanned the room, blinking away the sleep from your eyes. The fire that had been lit in the trashcan had died down, only glowing embers remained, making it difficult to see anything around you.
The pain in your leg was tolerable â it throbbed and itched but you were able to tune it out. Once you got back to the prison, Hershel would disinfect it, give you some painkillers, and then youâd be good as new.
You and Daryl just had to make it back home.
You groaned softly as you propped yourself up onto your elbows, wondering where the archer had gone. Just as you were about to call for him, you heard light snoring coming from beneath you.
Eyebrows furrowing, you twisted onto your side and peeked over the edge of the couch â and thatâs where you saw him.
Daryl was lying on the floor next to the couch â laid out flat on his back, arms crossed over his chest, knife gripped in one hand tucked by his side, snoring softly.
You couldnât help but take him in â it was rare to see him like this. He looked so young when he slept, so peaceful. All the lines on his face from stress and worry faded into smooth skin, mouth parted slightly instead of that permanent scowl he usually wore.
There was no way you were about to let him sleep on the floor like a dog while you got an entire couch to yourself.
You reached down and softly shook his shoulder. He immediately jolted awake, holding his knife out as he shot up to a sitting position and turned towards you.
âWhat? Whatâs wrong?â he questioned, voice thick with sleep as he glanced frantically around the room.
âSorry, itâs nothing. Weâre fine,â you soothed, pulling your hand back.
He took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes. âYa good?â he asked, giving you a once over.
You nodded, suddenly feeling a little awkward. âYou donât have to sleep on the floor.â
Daryl paused, confusion spreading over his face. âMâ fine down here,â he shrugged, puzzled as to why you woke him up for that.
âWe can squeeze,â you offered, grimacing as you attempted to scoot over.
âNah, ya get some rest. Mâ good here,â Daryl retorted, looking like he was about to settle back down.
âPlease,â you suddenly spoke up, causing him to stop short. You felt your cheeks flush red, suddenly grateful for how dark it was in the room so Daryl couldnât see. âI, uh, I really donât want to sleep alone right now,â you admitted quietly.
You werenât one to use the guilt trip method, but if it got Daryl off the floor, then so be it.
The room was completely still for a moment and you couldâve sworn you could hear your own pulse. But a moment later, you heard Daryl slowly pull himself up off the floor, the old floorboards creaking beneath him.
You twisted onto your side and moved so your back was against the back of the couch. Glancing up, you could see Daryl standing above you, fidgeting in place before he eased himself down onto the couch.
You made as much room for him as you could, making yourself as small as possible, while still giving your bad leg space to breathe. Daryl slowly laid flat on his back, one arm laying over his stomach, the other he awkwardly moved around, unsure where to lay it.
Deciding to be bold, you took his arm and wrapped it around you, allowing you to curl up by his side. He froze, body completely rigid, arm hovering slightly above you. It felt as though you were lying next to a brick wall, but you welcomed the warmth â Daryl was like your own personal space heater.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you took a breath and let yourself melt into his warmth. With your head on his chest, you could hear his heart racing a mile a minute â you hoped he couldnât hear your own beating at the same pace.
After a few moments, Daryl lowered his arm, very cautiously, so it was securely wrapped around your shoulders. Some of the stiffness in his body faded, but he still remained tense.
âThank you,â you whispered aloud, unsure what made you speak up.
Daryl just grunted, almost seeming scared to move, scared to breathe. Like if he did, he could break you into a million pieces.
You extended one arm out so it draped over his stomach just above his other arm and nuzzled a little closer, soaking in the warmth and comfort he exuded.
It took a few minutes, but eventually, Daryl relaxed into your embrace a little bit more.
You laid in silence for while, unsure if Daryl had fallen asleep or not. âDaryl?â you whispered, not wanting to wake him if heâd dozed off.
âHmm?â he responded, the noise rattling deep in his chest.
You paused, not expecting to get a response. You sighed softly. âDo you want to know how you can make this right?â
Daryl was quiet for a moment. âHow?â he responded just above a whisper.
âStop blaming yourself. You can make this right by forgiving yourself,â you finally spoke, tilting your head up slightly so you could look up at him.
Daryl looked down at you and you couldnât help but realize how close your faces were â or the heat that radiated between the two of you. He nodded once, solemnly. âAlright,â he simply said, a bit reluctantly.
You knew it wasnât that easy. Daryl would probably never fully forgive himself for what happened to you, but at least he was going to try. And that was all you could really ask of him.
âGood,â you said simply, finally breaking eye contact and ducking your head down. You rested the side of your face on his chest, feeling a heaviness settle over your body.
As his chest rose and fell, his heart steadily thumping beneath you, you gently lulled to sleep.
But just before darkness came, you heard Daryl whisper under his breath. âImma always keep ya safe, Y/N. Always.â
Then his arm tightened around you and the world fell away.
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