HES BIT.
summary - you aren’t going out alone.
pairing - daryl dixon x reader
warnings -TW: mentions of SUICIDE!! Swearing, Violence, Descriptions of Infected bite marks.
notes - this is super old (my arcane era) enjoy lovelies
main masterlist | daryl dixon masterlist
Those freaky, walker skin–covered people were one step ahead of you this time. It’s like they knew your exact plan, they cornered you, separated the group. God knows where everyone else is…Where Daryl is. You saw him get out of the horde–Thank God–now you just have to remember what direction he went in. It’s getting later into the night, you’ve been searching for a good 3 hours and still no sign of everybody. Going home is not an option, not at this time of night and not without Daryl. You can just hope you don’t run into the “Whisperers” again. God…they are so creepy.
It’s getting late, the adrenaline is wearing off and the exhaustion is setting in. For now, you focus on finding somewhere to safely spend the rest of the night, it’s no good sleeping out in the open. Finally, you come across a charming little cottage, it’s got a few holes in the roof and the windows are smashed and boarded up but it’s…cute? It’s better than nothing, looks reinforced–also abandoned–which is good. You still don’t drop your guard, it’s the apocalypse–everything’s abandoned. Nothing can be heard coming from the cabin, only the sounds of the spring wind rustling the leaves. Checking around the perimeter, nothing is found except some old tools in the backyard and 2 gravesites next to them. Only one of them was covered back up, it was a couple. You could assume the man killed his wife and then himself–perfectly falling into the grave next to her after he filled her grave with dirt.
Sometimes you think about who would die first, you or Daryl. Daryl’s always been smart, he’s survived more than you ever have–you would definitely be first. Another gust of wind, you shiver, trying to warm yourself up by rubbing your hands together. Without question, it’s time to get inside, who knows who’s watching you.
As soon as you reach the front door there’s a shuffling noise inside, you freeze, listening for it again. It never comes so you take your chances, pulling out your knife and bracing for an attack.
As soon as the door fully opens you come face to face with a crossbow–a familiar crossbow.
“Daryl…” You found him. What are the chances you both come across the same cabin, miles away from home, and at the same time. Like–one in a thousand, a sign someone up there doesn’t always have it out for you. He lowers his crossbow and pulls you into a tight hug, almost crushing your bones. It doesn’t matter though, you always loved his rare hugs. He’s very sweaty…and his skin is warm, too warm. You pull back to look at him, his gorgeous blue eyes, the scar that goes from above his brow to a little under his eye, his brown goatee that is turning into an alluring white.
“You okay?” He nods, pulling away from you to shut the cottage door, setting a chair in front of it to keep anyone else from coming in. “What ‘bout you? No bites..?” He asks as he goes to sit by his pack, a perfect view of the front door.
“No bites…You?”
…Silence.
At first you think he didn’t hear you, so you repeat yourself, a bit louder this time.
“Daryl, did you hear me? Did you get bit?”
…again, Silence. He turns to you, looking you in the eyes and still not answering. Everything slowly starts to come together in your mind, his temperature, him pouring sweat even though it’s 30 degrees outside, the dark bags under his eyes…He got bit. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, the panic is slowly infecting your brain, making you run through every possible scenario of how this could’ve happened. Did it even happen? He hasn’t confirmed nor denied the question…Maybe he did and you just couldn’t hear him, you were a bit shaken up still, were you? It had been three hours since you and your group got attacked. Anything from then would’ve worn off by now.
“Show me.” The words barely come out of your mouth, your body and mind plagued by the rising anxiety from not getting an answer to a very crucial question these days. He slowly lifts the bottom of his shirt, a human bite right above his right hip, red with dark purple and green veins running up his side. Seeing it makes it all real, maybe..maybe it isn’t though–maybe it’s makeup or…or–fuck. The only thing you can feel now is the warm tears rolling down your face, informing you that you’re crying.
What’s ironic is that you were so sure you would go first, you wish you went first, this is horrible–you hate this feeling. He drops his shirt, covering the bite and sitting down by his pack.
“Can..Can we cut it out?” He looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.
“Cut it out? I’d die from blood loss…I’m screwed either way,”
“Daryl, what if we–”
“No. It’s too late…” He dismisses you, any hope he had already diminished as he came to peace with this. No fucking way he’s just going to leave you in this shitty world, alone. He looks down, sitting in silence, waiting for you to process all of it. You move around quietly and quickly, making sure the doors and windows are secure–that nothing could get in…or out. After checking and clearing everything you sit next to Daryl, preparing for what you are about to say.
“How did you want to do this?” He doesn’t answer for a moment, thinking over his choices.
“I don’t wanna turn…” He looks at you, tears blurring his vision. It was very rare to see Daryl cry, and when you did–it was bad. You gently grab his arm, trying to provide some comfort in this sensitive time. Your plan is already set in stone, he can’t change it, and you definitely won’t.
“Alright…Well, we’ve got a few options. One: We can sit here, spending our last moments together, I can shoot us after you…y’know or… Two: You turn and I’ll let you bite me. We can be together when I come back.”
“Wha’ do you mean “Shoot us”...You ain’t dyin’ here.”
You unholster your gun, checking how many bullets you have left. Two bullets, it’s perfect. Laying the gun on your lap–safety on– just so you don’t miss your chance.
“I ain’t leaving you here either. It’s death, or we both turn– your choice.”
For a moment he looks devastated. The thought of throwing away your life for him, well not many people have done that. Especially not the ones he used to love. Daryl felt helpless, he had no choice, he’s going to die in this stupid looking cabin with the love of his life and she was coming with him.
word count: 1,150
miss my baby 💔💔💔
C U L8TER! 💚
