A/N: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of it's characters. All character rights belong to Robert Kirkman and AMC!
This is the first real fan fiction I have ever written. I originally posted it on Wattpad but after discovering the site, I decided to publish it here as well. Be sure to let me know what you guys think, but try not to be too harsh. I'm still learning. Enjoy!
What Now? (A Daryl Dixon Story)
Prologue:
Stormi and Daryl had been around each other their whole lives. Both had been raised in abusive homes, both had lost their mothers young. Stormi had finally been taken away from her father after a final brutal attack. She and Daryl spend one last night together and things turn intimate. Stormi is taken out of state, but she tries to keep in contact with Daryl. Ten years pass and the apocalypse happens. Contact with Daryl suddenly ends. Her phone is useless. Stormi immediately rushes to her hometown to find it gone. She is hell bent on finding Daryl so she strikes out to Atlanta searching, but she is not alone. A ten-year-old little girl with dark hair and light eyes accompanies her. Will they be reunited with Daryl and what will he think of what could possibly be his daughter from one night of passion?
Chapter One:
Stormi's POV
I glanced into the rearview mirror of my black '69 Dodge Charger. The dark, tousled head was barely discernable under the mountain of black fur. I was glad Cheyenne had finally fallen asleep. The poor thing had been so scared she hadn't slept in nearly 24 hours. I was pushing it myself. The only thing keeping me going was the growing pile of empty energy drink cans in the passenger side floorboard. I clicked my tongue and the mountain of black fur gently lifted away from the tiny girl and moved into the front seat. The massive wolf settled himself into the seat next to me. I reached over to rub his enormous head.
"We'll be okay, Mikhail. Won't we, boy?" I asked quietly with lots of love in my tone.
The wolf licked my fingers before pressing his nose to the window. I chuckled and rolled it down for him. I smiled. Mikhail, Cheyenne, and this car were three of the few things I had brought back from Mississippi. I thought back to the day I had left Georgia. The worst thing had been saying bye to him. God, how I had missed Daryl. I had held him tightly as we said our goodbyes. He had been careful of my ribs. A few were broken from my father's drunken rage. I was going to live with a wealthy foster family in Mississippi. We had sworn to each other to keep in contact. I had kissed him for the last time before climbing in the car. I turned to watch him as the car moved away. He had stood watching for a moment, before turning to sprint off into the woods. I knew that was his escape from everything. As I rode, I thought of the night before. We knew our time together was limited and passions had arisen. We had been putting it off, but knowing this night was our last, we had finally come together for the first and only time. I had kept myself distant from everyone for my first month in Mississippi, and in that time, it became known I was pregnant. My 18th birthday passed and I had talked my foster parents into allowing and paying for me to have my last name legally changed to Dixon so that when my child was born, the little girl had taken the name as well. I had named the child Cheyenne and as Chey became older, it had become apparent that she was definitely Daryl's. She had taken his darker hair, though it still had my auburn tints when the sunlight hit it just right. Her beautiful eyes were the clearest blue though when her temper flared, they appeared closer to my bright green. I had purposely kept Chey's existence from Daryl, for my own reasons. I wasn't sure how he would react. Yet, as soon as the apocalypse struck, my foster parents had been taken so I had cleaned out their safe and accounts and loaded up Cheyenne, Mikhail, myself, food and weapons into my prized custom rebuilt Charger and headed straight for my hometown. I had found it burned to the ground, but could tell it was recent for some buildings still blazed. I had heard about the CDC and Atlanta so I had headed straight for it, stopping only once to refill the tank.
They were close now. I could see the buildings in the distance. I topped a hill and immediately slammed on the brakes. The Charger screeched to a stop, waking Cheyenne, and throwing her to the floor.
"Mama!" she cried. She scrambled up to peer between the seats. She was shaken, but unharmed.
"Sorry, baby! I didn't have a choice." I said, reaching back to my little girl. I stared out the windshield. A line of cars stretched almost a mile outside the city. People milled around them. I backed the car up and pulled off onto the grassy side of the highway so we wouldn't be boxed in. I reached in between the front seats and pulled out my 9mm pistol. I loaded it and turned to Cheyenne. "Okay, baby girl. Now, I want you to stay here with Mikhail. Keep the doors locked an' the windows shut. Mama's gonna walk ahead a lil' bit an' see if I can find out what's going on. Okay?" I said calmly, looking Cheyenne right in the eyes.
Cheyenne squared her jaw. "Yes'm." she said.
I smiled and kissed her forehead. "That's my lil' warrior. Now there is another pistol in the glovebox. You 'member how t' do it?" I asked.
Cheyenne nodded. She had been raised with my love of all weapons and was skilled in many for her young age.
I smiled. "Good girl." I stepped out of the car. I tucked the handgun in the back of my belt, pulling my sleeveless plaid button up down over it. I looked at Mikhail. "Mikhail, Guard!" I said authoritatively. His whole body tensed up and he sat up, ears and eyes alert. I locked the doors and blew Cheyenne a kiss before shutting my door and making my way down the line of cars. I moved towards the crowd of people further down. I was so intent on the crowd, I wasn't paying attention when the door of an old blue Ford F-150 swung open and a tall, broad guy dropped out of it right in front of me. I walked straight into him. It knocked me backwards and off balance. The only thing that kept me off the ground was my quick reflexes. I caught the side of the bed of his truck to right myself.
"Won't ye' watch where the hell you're going, woman!" a gruff, irritable voice demanded.
The voice caused my blood to run cold in my veins. I righted myself and pushed my hair back out of my face. I looked at the scowling redneck before me. "Nice to see you again, too, Daryl." I said sarcastically, even though I was staring at him as if he was a ghost.