Make Or Break - Part 1
Daryl Dixon x GN S/O
AN: This entire thing stemmed from a double prompt that my twin picked out for me which was Face and “I can’t believe you talked me into this.” I wrote this with Post-season 9 in mind, which I'm pretty sure is around the time when the Whisperers are introduced to the series if I remember correctly. Anyway, rant over. Super sorry about the long hiatus (there's been A LOT going on irl) but I hope you'll take this new Daryl x Reader two part series as an apology! Lol!
Word Count: 1,963
Part 2
Warnings: Descriptive Gore, Canon-typical violence.
You let out a low grunt of effort as you swung your leg over the top edge of the wall that encircled the quaint town of Alexandria, using the leverage that bracing your leg on the other side gave you in order to haul yourself up onto the narrow ledge. You teetered precariously for an alarming moment, your breath hitching before you quickly flexed the muscles in your thighs in order to straddle the wall harder and avoid falling off.
You closed your eyes and allowed yourself a few seconds to just focus on regulating your breathing as you sat on the wall, the cool night air rustling through your hair and making you shiver, and you pulled your hoodie tighter to your body in a vain attempt to conserve heat.
You had packed in a hurry before leaving the quiet house that you shared with the others with just your tool belt and the clothes on your back, so you had no one but yourself to blame for the fact that you now lacked a proper, heavy coat to throw on over top of your favorite, worn hoodie to help protect you from the biting cold.
You reached up in a subconscious, self-soothing motion as you balanced on the top of the wall, your heart dropping when your fingers hit open air instead of the comforting, skin-warmed mess of stone and thin wire that usually hung from your neck and you cursed as you were abruptly reminded of the entire reason for your reckless late-night prison break in the first place.
You’d lost your necklace while out on a run with Daryl earlier that morning.
After the two of you had spent several weeks casing a department store and came to the conclusion that it hadn’t been completely picked over –if the sheer number of walkers that were loitering about the property were any indication– so you figured that it was a safe enough be that there was a pretty good possibility of finding useful supplies.
The plan was to take out one of the rotting corpses at the edge of the group and smear the blood and viscera over the two parkas that you and Daryl were wearing before sneaking inside. Fortunately, getting ahold of undead viscera was easy enough –especially since it wasn’t the first time either of you had done something like this– the two of you taking turns smearing the other in the gore before making your way toward the back of the building where the herd seemed to be thinner.
Everything was going smoothly until, in your haste to cross the remaining distance left between you and the department store, you accidentally stepped on the dragging, mangled foot of one of the shambling walkers, the creature wasting no time turning towards you with a snarl on its rotting face.
Your eyes went wide in panic when it abruptly jerked forward, its teeth clicking together dangerously close to your throat before you managed to get your arms up between your vulnerable neck and its face, letting the hard, scratched plastic guard strapped to your forearm take the brunt of the creature's jaws, its spindly fingers clawing at your jacket as you grappled with it.
“Fer fucks–” Daryl’s gruff exclamation was cut off and he was forced to back off from his attempt to approach you when several walkers –that had been drawn to the commotion– turned their attention toward him, the telltale soft snick of Daryl unsheathing his knives signalling that things were about to get dicey… and leaving you to fend for yourself.
You growled under your breath as you quickly took stock of the situation, coming to the alarming realization that everything was devolving far too rapidly for your comfort, and it was becoming abundantly clear that, the longer it took for you and Daryl to hack a path through the gradually growing crowd without any real strategy, the more walkers were alerted to your presence.
As far as you were concerned you could either attempt to salvage the run and make it the last few yards remaining between the two of you and the employee back entrance –which you would have to waste precious time trying to brute force your way through–or you could take the safer option and abandon the potential supplies, returning to the Alexandria community empty-handed to try again another day in the not so near future.
You kicked out at another walker that you decided had hobbled far too close to you than you'd like, the sharp snap of brittle bone ringing out as its kneecap shattered under your boot, causing the walker to collapse and reveal a huge herd of walkers stumbling erratically around the corner of the building and straight toward you and Daryl.
You felt panic begin building in your chest at the sight of their snapping jaws and glossy eyes, the persistent buzz of flies that always followed the undead sounding like static in your ears as you stared at the mass of lumbering bodies, all twitching and groaning in barely contained excitement.
You had seen first-hand just how fast a person could get swarmed by a group that big, how quickly those reaching hands could rip through clothing and skin alike like it was wet paper, how screaming could turn into wet choking and finally to terrifying silence in a matter of seconds as they glutted themselves on the slippery, pink viscera that spilled out in thick ropes under their violent onslaught.
Between that and leaving behind a haul of what was probably only a few blankets and some expired cans of vegetables, it was hardly even a decision.
“Daryl! We gotta go!” You called out –hoping that he'd be able to hear you over the constant hissing and snarling– as you stomped down onto the skull of the walker that had been biting at the thick leather of your boots, the brief shift of your attention from your surroundings allowing the walker that had been previously gnawing at your arm guard to slip past your defenses.
You froze for a heart stopping moment as it bodily collided with you, close enough that you could feel its rancid breath blow across the thin skin of your throat as it snarled, the disturbing sensation causing your skin to pull painfully tight as it erupted in goosebumps.
You squeezed your eyes shut and shuddered before snapping back into focus with a speed and intensity that rivaled plunging headfirst into arctic waters with not a scrap of fabric between you and the icy depths, leaving your mind sharp and your senses on overdrive as adrenaline flooded your system.
You immediately planted your feet onto the asphalt, the thick tread of your boots preventing you from losing traction as you used all your strength to aggressively push back against the walker in front of you, the force behind the violent shove managing to be enough to send it stumbling backward with an angry growl.
You felt a faint tug at the back of your neck when you backpedaled away from the walker as it unbalanced, but the sensation was gone as quickly as you had noticed it, so you ignored it in favor of collecting your hammer from your tool-belt and swinging wildly at the walker that had been coming up on your left.
With the immediate threat taken care of after a few hits to the dome with the blunt end of your hammer –foolproof, really– you then turned back to the walker you’d forcefully pushed away, only to falter for the second time that day when it looked up at you from where it had crumpled to the ground.
Right there, dangling from the ripped edges of flesh where lips should’ve been, was your necklace. The delicate chain was tangled in stringy scraps of loose, purple skin, globs of thick, coagulated blood and gray gums, the broken clasp glinting from where it had somehow gotten wedged between the creature’s crooked front teeth.
“C’mon!” Daryl shouted from directly behind you, the man urgently grabbing your arm before you could take a single step towards the slowly recovering creature and proceeding to insistently drag you in the opposite direction the converging herd no matter how you twisted and fought against his grip, desperate to get back to the necklace that was hanging from the walker's deadly jaws.
You put up a brief struggle against Daryl's hold but, once it became apparent that there was no getting out of his unrelenting grasp, you turned around and shifted your grip so that –instead of being dragged along behind Daryl as he sprinted across the parking lot– you took his hand into your own and began to run with him.
Your heartbeat pounded in rhythm with your feet as you sprinted toward the forest that you and Daryl had often frequented when scouting the place out, any hope you had at somehow reclaiming your treasured jewelry lost the moment that the two of you had reached the treeline and disappeared back into the relative safety of the surrounding forest.
The ride back to Alexandria was made in silence, which you had found equal parts relieving and concerning at the time since you could feel the frustration and anger practically pouring off Daryl’s body in waves as he navigated the abandoned country roads. But, the moment that the two of you were through the gate –the walls once again between you and the various dangers of the outside world– the coiled tension that had been building inside Daryl suddenly snapped and all of the emotions that the man had been stubbornly trying to repressed exploded out of him in a truly impressive display of fury.
Your insistence on risking your life for something that Daryl saw as insignificant and easily replaceable resulted in one of the biggest fights the two of you had ever had –including the occasional disagreement you and Daryl had before officially becoming a couple– and it got so bad that Rick was forced to get involved and play mediator when your arguing grew loud enough that it drew in a sizable crowd of curious onlookers.
One Rick had managed to convince –more like command, the bossy fucker– the two of you to part ways in order to cool off, taking some much needed alone time in order to think things over, you began to aimlessly wander around the perimeter of the closed community as you lamented over the loss of your necklace.
Though, when you veered off to the side of the road in order to kick a rock as you vented your frustrations about Daryl at nobody in particular, you paused as it violently hit the looming, metal wall with a loud clang, a wide grin that could only be described as manic spreading across your lips when an idea sparked to life as you had stared up at the tall barrier.
And now you were here, completely alone –since you hadn't seen hair nor hide of Daryl since Rick had very sternly encouraged the two of you to walk it off– freezing your ass off as you clumsily snuck out of Alexandria like a grounded, rebellious teenager gracelessly crawling out a window in the dead of night in order to go to a party. It was decidedly not your finest moment, but you had a mission and you were determined to succeed this time.
“The fuck ‘re ya doin’?” A familiar rough voice rang out and you startled so hard that your flinch briefly threw off your center of balance before you once again managed to catch yourself, aiming a glare down at the nosy redneck standing below you once you were steady.
Speak of the devil.