The Walking Dead:
Dancing with Arrows

By: Elise B-H

Hey guys! This is my first attempt at writing a fan fiction for this particular ship/fandom. This story is with the awesome Daryl Dixon and my OC (original character) Lucy McIntosh. I know it may seem a little rushed at the end with all the narration at the beginning, but I was tired when I posted this a few days ago and it was rather late. So, I'll try to get a few more things editing and a few details here and there— Nothing big, just a little tweaking. Just be sure to re-read this in a few days. It should be changed by then (And, just in case, if it hasn't changed from the first time you've read this, chances are it has already been updated so don't panic if it hasn't. :3 )

Anyhoolze, please enjoy the read!
Happy Reading and Writing!
~Sevvy

P.S. Please, if I could be so bold to ask, Leave a review! They really do help the muse :) ANDDD if you have any ideas or requests as to what should happen with the two, please feel free to drop a line! I'll be more than happy to take in new ideas— this story is very much yours, as much as it is my own.

Cheers!

Chapter 1: Concerning Daryl and Lucy

In my heart, I always knew that Daryl was a misunderstood man. He has his secrets, as do we all… yet no one ever asked him why he seemed to be vile, cruel and cold hearted. No one ever asked what happened during his upbringing, if he was ever hurt or maltreated, or if he ever needed anyone to talk to— not that he would ever admit to such things. Sure, he swore and said rather hurtful things but I knew that deep down inside him there was a young man who had been neglected and raised under rather harsh circumstances. I knew that there was a part inside of his heart that wanted to trust someone, love someone, but no one else ever agreed with me and no one else ever considered it without thinking I was mad.

Ever since I ever brought up my feelings for Daryl, everyone slowly began to show me the cold shoulder. Even Rick, Lori, and Carl didn't speak to me much any more. It hurt. They were the ones who took me under their protection when the whole apocalypse thing went down. The only person who ever seemed to care was Dale. He was a sweet man and I knew some part of him wanted to accept Daryl and saw the same parts of him that I did... or I thought he did. I couldn't tell if he actually believes Daryl is good or wants to believe Daryl is a good person and that he'll 'believe it when he sees it'.

Everyone knew about my secret except the Daryl himself. Well, then again, maybe he did know and chose to ignore everything… chose to ignore me. He never really paid much attention to me— or much of anything else— anyway.

He turned real quiet ever since Rick shot Sophia and Carol took her life as a result of such. We all knew there was something going on between Daryl and Carol… but ever since she died, he was never quite the same. Well, he wasn't the same nice-like Daryl, anyway. He had turned back to the cold guy he once was and shut everyone out. Daryl chose to be by himself most of the time, even while doing chores or hunting in the woods. It's not that we doubted him—it was common knowledge that he was an excellent marksman—but we were all worried he would take his life if he was left to his own devices. So far he's proven himself otherwise, but there was that odd time where none of us were quite sure what was going on in that head of his.

It had been a few days since we heard from him, which wasn't something uncommon, but I was starting to get worried. Even though game kept showing up at random intervals at the farm house, where Hershel kindly let us to permanently take up residence with his family, we were starting to see less and less of Daryl. There were times where we only saw him once or twice a week. He didn't live with the rest of the group but was camped out at the edge of the property, where an old fireplace stood as a reminder of the old house that once stood there. Maybe he just liked being outdoors, seeing he could protect us better or warn us in advance if a horde of walkers was coming our way; or perhaps he didn't want anything to do with us and started coming less and less so it would be easier to leave if he had to. That way, he wouldn't miss being with people and would be better than fine being on his own

The latter scared me a little.

So, that's why today I decided that I was going to attempt a chat with him. He was just as harsh towards me with his words as he was with everyone else in our group. But in a way, when he spoke directly to me, it didn't seem as hostile as he was with the rest of them. That notion gave me the confidence I would need to start the conversation, knowing that it could go bad no matter what happened. But I think it would be worth the shot.

I sighed and looked down at my hands, which held a wicker basket filled with some clean clothes for Daryl. I went on a run with Glenn the other day to get some new clothes for the group. As we were leaving, my eyes spotted a few pairs of jeans and a few black vests that were similar to those Daryl had. Before I could change my mind, my hands yanked them from the rack and I dashed after Glenn, whacking the few walkers that had managed to get through the barricade. By the time we got back to the farm, the clothes were covered in walker guts and dirt. Lori offered to help me wash and hang them to dry, something I welcome with a smile. It had been some time since the both of us had spent some time together. However, she told me that going through the trouble of getting the clothes for Daryl hadn't been worth my time and that he wouldn't appreciate it. "I beg to differ," I told her with a cool smile before marching towards the house.

A few hours later, I came back out and took the fresh, crisp, dry clothes down from the clothes line, folded them, and placed them into the wicker basket. My feet followed the worn footpath through the trees. The confidence from earlier was slowly starting to seep from my body and I was beginning to feel a little nervous. My mind was racing through a jumble of words, wondering what I should say to Daryl, to be begin with. When the stone chimney came into my line of sight, my heart began to race a little and soon the idea of talking alone with Daryl wasn't so appealing. I was going to turn back and come another time when a firm grasp took my shoulder and spun me around. Blue eyes met brown and I could feel my heart race at the close proximity with Daryl.

I swallowed hard and took a step back when he let go of me. "Oh, it's just you," he said in an uninterested tone. He spat and pushed past me and towards his camp. I followed.

"Who else would it be?" I asked in a quiet voice, which was very unlike me.

"Dunno," Daryl replied nonchalantly. "Someone comin' to nag at me about hunting or something. They always got something to fucking complain about."

"Well, I'm really the only one who comes to see you," I admitted. "Even when you're out hunting. Who else do you think brings you food?—" he continued as if he had never heard me.

He snorted and spat again. "Maybe that asshole Rick, for starters," he growled maliciously. I remained silent as we continued walking through the bush.

"He isn't that bad of a guy, you know." I managed to say after a few moments of silence. "Rick took me in when I had nothing and he's taken care of us all—"

Daryl spun around, his crossbow in one hand and the other jabbing a finger in my direction. Shit, what had I done to piss him off now? "Are you fucking nuts? He had no damn right to shoot Sophia in front of Carol! She's fucking gone because of it. You think that's called being a leader? Think that's being much of a protector? And then look at you—if he's so great of a guy, why has he turned away from you like the rest of the god damn group, huh? Why does he treat you like you're a stranger all of a sudden? Was it something you said? Did he not like it? The fucker only cares about people who are like him and who do him favours. He doesn't give a rat's ass about the likes of us. You hear?"

He looked into my eyes intently and I felt a swirl of negative emotions swell up inside of me. Of course, Daryl was right in a sense… when I mentioned that I felt for Daryl more than just friends, he did turn away from me and soon after, everyone else did. Hershel, his wife and his two daughters and son didn't seem to take any interest in who I fell for and they never shunned me or spoke to me about it. They treated me as equally as they treated everyone else—same as Dale did—and I loved them for it.

"You know I'm right," he said with a reproachful tone this time around. Daryl gave me a once over and continued walking at a slower pace. My feet unconsciously carried me after him.

"I never said you weren't..." I mumbled.

He inclined his head in my direction. "What was that?"

"Nothing, just talking to myself."

He snorted. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say."

Once we arrived at his little campsite, I put down the basket and took up a seat on a boulder and stared at a tree, lost in thought. It only wasn't until Daryl tried to get my attention a few minutes later that I bothered to look at him. "Hello? You goin' to answer me or not?"

"Hmm?" I said snapping out of my day dream. "What did you ask?"

"Who is that damn basket for?" He asked again, spitting on the ground beside him as he carved a few small branches, most likely grooming them to become arrows.

"Oh," I looked down at the basket of clean clothes I had gotten for him. "I got those for you when I went on a run into town the other night with Glenn. You never bring your clothes to be washed. Spotted them on the rack and figured you might need something a little… fresher to wear."

The expression on his face softened a little, but remained neutral as he gazed at the basket of clothing set beside me. I looked down at my long leather boots I managed to snatch up a few weeks ago from the store. "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't need any of your damnable clothes. I got everythin' I need right here."

My eyes shot up and met Daryl's. "I spent good time scrubbing the Walker guts off those clothes and now you aren't even going to give them a second glance before refusing them?"

"I said, I don't need your fucking clothes," he leered. "Now shove off! I don't need you or your kindness, Lucy."

I glared at my feet. "Lori was right; I should've listened to her when she said you wouldn't appreciate it."

"Oh, so now you're their pet even if they treat you like shit?" He spat venomously. "Shows me what kind of gal you are."

My eyes met Daryl's again, with a fire blazing in them. "I am no one's pet!" I bellowed. "The clothes I got you, I got for you of my own accord because I thought it would be a nice gesture. You want to know what happened between me and Rick's family and the rest of the group? I told them that I had feelings for someone and they all now thing I'm a fucking whack job because of it! It's not like you can control who you have feelings for, you know?! Honestly, I ignored Lori's advice and thought you might actually appreciate the fact that someone still cares about you. Part of me wanted to prove her wrong. But she was right… She's always right... and maybe I made the wrong decision by putting faith in the person I like. Well, you know what, piss off. Throw the damn clothes out for all I care! It's not like you'll ever wear them anyway."

The side of my foot connected with the basket and sent the clean clothes flying across the dirt. I shoved my hands into my pockets, spun on my heels and took off towards the camp, hot tears streaming down my cheeks. Lori was right about Daryl and I wouldn't soon forget it.

Daryl:

Man, I screwed up big this time. It had been a few hours since Lucy left and I couldn't bring myself to even look at the fucking clothes she got me. A stupid fight over something so insignificant. A little while after she was gone, I picked up the damned clothes and shoved 'em into the basket and left them there. I mentally smacked myself for being such a fucking cock up.* The first signs of decency shown to me in weeks and I just harked it back in her face. But that's not what really got to me—it was the whole thing about who she fell for that really caught me off my guard… and that person was me. I could tell it in the way she looked at me with her eyes all fired up with a hurtful rage and the tremor in her voice.

Way to go Daryl, you fucking idiot, I scolded myself. Break her heart and have a go at her all in one sitting. You still got your way with the ladies.

After a while of staring at the basket full of clothing, I decided that I would at least try a pair of jeans and one of those vests on. If they fit, then I'd go apologize to Lucy. Least I could do for being such an ass hole to her... but God kill me if I go soft.

Lucy:
It was my turn to take watch tonight. I was perched on top of the trailer with the sniper rifle in hand, watching for any movement. But that was a bit of a chore seeing as a certain someone refused to leave my mind. It was the way Daryl had acted so damn rudely to me and it genuinely took me off guard. Sure, the conversation started out a little harshly, but it was the best one-on-one talk I've had with him since Carol died. I was sincerely hoping that all would go well and was severely hurt when it didn't.

It was all I could think about for the past couple hours.

I sighed and rolled my neck back and forth, my gaze falling on the stars-filled skies above me. My neck stopped moving and I remained still for a while, watching the wondrous glowing specks of perfection above me.

It was beautiful—peaceful, even.

The clunking of boots up the side of the trailer was what brought me back to the present. I couldn't see who was there and, not wanting to draw attention to myself, I grabbed the branch closest to me and swung into the tree, my gun ready to fire. I looked through the break in the trees and saw Daryl climb up on to the roof… and despite everything, my heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

"Hey, monkey, I saw you swingin' into the tree," he said as he looked directly into my eyes.

"Fuck off, Daryl," I mumbled.

"Look, can you just come down? I wanna talk to you." His voice wasn't hostile for once but I didn't want another fight.

"Daryl, you made it damn clear earlier that you didn't want the clothes. Please, just bugger off and leave me to do my watch in peace.

"Lucy, come on," he sighed frustratedly. "I know that I was being a dick, but could you please listen to me before I change my mind?"His last comment took me a little off guard. Why? Even I'm not entirely sure. I lowered my gun and took my time climbing down from the tree. I didn't show him any sign of being interested in what he had to say and left my face blank.

"What do you want, Daryl?" I said in a monotone voice. I gave him a once over and it came as a surprise when I saw him wearing the clothes I got him. My eyebrow shot up in question.

"Ok, you were right. I needed some new clothes and you were kind enough to get 'em for me. I'm sorry I was being a dick. It was… nice of you to do this for me."

I let my guard down entirely and threw him a smirk. "You're welcome, Daryl…" I chuckled and looked down at my feet. "Next time someone does something nice for you, grin and bear with it and say thank you."

"I'll—uh—keep that in mind. So, that's what I came here to say and I said it. G'night."

"G'night."

Daryl had climbed down and walked around the front of the trailer before I spoke again. "Hey, Daryl?"

"What?" he spat.

"You look good."

The corner of his lip twitched and he turned away from me again, his crossbow slung across his shoulder. Thank was a "thank you" enough for me.

*cock up basically means fuck up.