I got hit with this after watching some very heartwrenchingly loveable videos. Not going to lie, I may have shed some tears.
-Go search Mikica1010 on Youtube. You will understand.
Daryl prided himself in his memory, but he found that the more time he spent with Rick, the less he came to care.
Daryl, for as long as he could remember, was a creature of solitude. Before the world went to shit, Merle would take to snorting lines of his favourite drug whilst Daryl would work odd jobs. Hunt in the clearing if there ever was any. It was just them against the world, Merle would say before he would disappear on his trips. Merle would leave and find a woman to defile, mostly rape and use, and Daryl would avoid any and all women at every time.
Then the world went to shit, he watched as his brother cackled gleefully as he grabbed the nearest weapon and killed the undead around him. The Dixons were not to be fucked with, dead or living. They kept moving from city to city, barely living with the squirrels and occasional roadkill that wasn't contaminated yet. They eventually met a group of misfits. Three families, technically four, but Daryl ignored the others. He stuck to hunting and himself. He kept Merle under a pseudo leash (as much as Merle would let him) and ignored the shit that went on around him.
Then he met Rick Grimes. He had shown him that he had a real family. One that blood could never ever come close to. He made Daryl re-evaluate his needs and wants. What he had known before and after.
Daryl knew himself. He knew what he feared, what he hated, and mostly, what he loved. Who he loved. Carol, Carl, Judith, Maggie, all of them.
He didn't want to lose them. Growing up the way he did, he was taught to rely on himself, and no one else. It was beaten into him before he could even walk. He didn't remember his mother, and he rather he didn't. He was hard, Merle made sure of that. He was impenetrable, or at least he thought he was.
He thought he was unstoppable, only beaten by Merle in pure will to to live. Pure will to survive.
He was so wrong.
He met Rick Grimes.
He remembered back, when he first met the man. Wore a white shirt, a tired look in his eyes, freshly shaven. He was just introduced to this world, he hasn't seen the horrors. Daryl sneered to himself, as hatred coiled inside him as he was told Merle was left for dead, this man would not make it to the end of the week. He was proved wrong then. He took the reigns from Shane immediately, which Daryl approved of. There was a distinct fight for the leadership, but Daryl kept himself scarce, watching everyone. Even his cheating wife, Lori, who always had something to say, stood behind Rick in her own way.
Daryl told himself that it was just him and Merle against the world. Before Rick Grimes had shown up, he and Merle kept to themselves... Well, as much as Merle had kept to himself. That man was as dangerous as he was lecherous. He had a sadistic streak miles wide and miles long.
Then Rick Grimes showed up, guns blazing. Not literally.
He had taken Daryl, and slowly peeled away the shield that he put up and kept hard at for years. Decades. Rick had shown him the love that only a real brother could give. Daryl didn't know when it happened, but one day, he woke up and cared. Not in the sense of "a bigger group, higher chance of survival". In the sense of "he would rather die than see his new group be attacked and defeated by the living or dead". His new group. His new family.
All because of Rick Grimes.
He thought Rick was strong at first, after the first few months with the man. He was impressed with the sheer resilience to fight for life.
Then he saw him change.
Hell itself would seal its gates shut if Rick Grimes showed up banging on its doors. All of the demons, and on a level of sheer clarity, Daryl was even willing to bet that the Devil himself, would rather stab themselves than come face to face with Rick Grimes.
Rick smiled less, he more often than not had blood on his face. His once bright new eyes were hooded with such a sharp clarity that it would make Daryl's insides stop and blood turn to ice. His close cut hairstyle was grown out, slicked back from sweat or blood, Daryl didn't know. His stance was iron, daring anyone and everyone to take him on. To those who would never listen, who would much rather shoot first and ask questions later, Rick Grimes was ruthless, a cold killer if Daryl ever knew one, downright savage to those who opposed him.
Daryl didn't remember when he felt pride at being at his side, all he knew was that Rick was worthy of every fibre of Daryl's stubbornly earned respect, hell, he was more than worthy. Daryl would let him use his crossbow if Rick ever asked. (He just hoped it never came down to that)
Rick and Daryl had taken out groups of walkers, of men. It didn't matter. Rick, the vicious and rigorous leader, and Daryl his loyal right hand man, one that he earned, and would fight like fucking hell to keep. They moved forward, machetes coming down, cracking skulls open, or bolt flying forward. It didn't matter to him how many he killed. Or for how long he had to kill.
Because fucking hell, he loved the man, and would never let him go.
I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. SO MUCH.
-cries-
MA OUT.