This was actually my first Andrea/Daryl story. I found it on the outskirts of my phone and quickly emailed it to myself to post. It's from back when Daryl and Andrea hadn't been through the whole "Shit-I-shot-you-I'm-so-fucking-sorry" ordeal and they still had hope to find a lost child in a forest. I'm posting it even though I have Andrea still in her "I want to die" phase. I know I'm not the only one who realized she only got better after Daryl talked to her. Made her feel like she had a friend who trusted her. So here it is, my first, short oneshot. Enjoy.
Lost
She sits by the fire and looks up. Across the fire sits her friend. He's the only one who knows what she went through, the loss of a sibling. He nods at her and she looks away.
She knows she doesn't belong here anymore. She feels safe, but that's not enough. The farmhouse has nothing for her. Neither does anything else anymore.
She's contemplated suicide before. She tried, once. But she was stopped. Now, suicide is too good for her. She wants to walk away. So she stands. He watches as turns away from the fire, but not towards the camper. Or the house. He realizes what she's doing.
He stands by the time that she is at the start of the drive way. He follows, but she doesn't notice. As she goes to unlatch the gate but his hand stops hers.
"Where ya goin'?" he asks.
"Away," she answers slowly after thinking about it for a moment.
"Now why's that?"
"I don't belong here."
"Ain't like I ever did, but I'm still here," he points out.
"You've got a place here. You realize how thankful Carol was when you found Sophia? No one else could have done that." She's right. She knows it and so does he. But he doesn't care. She would argue that he never has.
"Andrea," he starts, but she cuts him off.
"I'm leaving, Daryl," she speaks. She reaches over and unlatches the gate. She manages two steps out before she's yanked back against a hard body. He wraps an arm around her waist and she tenses.
"Look... I know I'm not the one ta say anythin' 'bout anyone, but what yer about to do is a dumbass move," he speaks in a low voice. She snorts, half amused, half angry. "You got as much right to be here as any one a' us."
"So did Amy. But she's gone," Andrea spits angrily, unable to break free of Daryl's hold. They both know he's stronger than her.
"Tha's not yer fault. Hell, if it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I'm the one that wanted to go find Merle." He's the one that's made a point this time.
Her entire body stills in his grasp, something he doesn't expect. He's used to the blame. It's something he's learned to cope with his entire life. He doesn't care if he's blamed, just as long as it gets her to stay.
"I never blamed you..." she whispers, one of her hands suddenly clenching the arm around her waist.
"Why not?"
She doesn't respond. She doesn't know how. Maybe she hadn't thought of it that way before, or maybe she just hadn't wanted to. She had blamed Rick of course, for bringing four men to get Merle. She's blamed Glenn too because he drove that damn sports car into camp with the alarm going off.
But she hadn't blamed Daryl.
Somehow, he persuades her back to the fire and sits her besides him on a log. The fire has died down a bit, but still emits enough heat and light to make sitting by worth it. He looks over at her. She's staring at a spot on the ground, her nails digging into the log where they sit. He's not sure what to do. He's never been good at being a hero to a 'damsel in distress'. At least, he hadn't been before the apocolypse. Now he's saved a few lives. He seems to be the only one who knew how to get things done. He had been the only one to head into the woods without a plan, but the only one to find Sophia.
Daryl finds himself doing something he rarely does, let alone willingly. Hug someone.
He wraps his arms around Andrea, pulling her against him. She tries to resist his arms. She doesn't like showing so much weakness.
But eventually, she lets go. She lets go and cries into the shoulder of the only one that cares enough to trust her.