A/N: I have no idea where this dream came from. This is an odd little side journey from my normal Caryl fics. I don't normally want to see Daryl paired with anyone other than Carol but … bear with me please. AU because for some reason the prison group has been separated from Rick as their leader and they are on the run with a guy named Ben in charge. Why? I don't know.
Was Rick dead?
All Sierra knew was a) they were on the run from the prison and b) Rick wasn't in charge anymore because he wasn't with them.
The bespectacled dark-haired professor who had served in Vietnam was leading them. Ben so far had kept them safe but he certainly didn't have Rick's disposition. He had joined the group when Sierra and other stragglers had, which had happened after the Woodbury clan.
Ben was relatively old-fashioned too. He believed in separating the men and the women when they stopped for the night. Couples and insistent family units were the exception; however, there wasn't much privacy, so most people didn't push back at this rule.
It irked Sierra nevertheless. She felt it was people's own business to decide their own sleeping arrangements.
Folks were assigned to guard the perimeter from walkers and malicious intruders. Sierra often was on watch with Carol and Sasha. Daryl, Bob and Tyreese normally followed on the next shift.
Sierra bit her lip as she stared into the darkness from her perch on the pickup parked near outer rim of the motel they had commandeered a week ago.
She heard something scrape behind her and she whipped around, shouldering her rifle with deadly aim.
"Don't shoot," Daryl said in a low voice as he clambered into the truck bed, his crossbow secure on his back.
"You scared the shit outta me," Sierra said, lowering her weapon and thumping his shoulder as he moved next her. He snorted as he hoisted himself onto the truck roof to sit alongside her.
"I thought nothin' scared ya," Daryl teased. She rolled her eyes and then stared at him, her head cocked.
"Wait a minute. My shift ain't up yet. What are you doin' here?" she asked.
Daryl shrugged, shifting, his boots striking the windshield.
"Figured you might want some company," he replied, his right thigh and knee casually pressed against her left thigh and knee.
"More like distraction," Sierra remarked with gleam in her eye. Daryl smirked.
They had flirted with each other off and on since her arrival. He and Carol joshed each other like they always had but his relationship with Sierra had taken on a whole other dimension, especially after they fled the prison.
One evening in particular had changed everything.
The group had been holed up in a classy neighborhood, camped out in a mansion with enough space to house everyone. Daryl and several other men had secured the area but not without a close call with some walkers.
As usual, Daryl had saved the idiot's ass but the guy wasn't even grateful. They had yelled at one another until Tyreese had intervened and diffused the situation long enough to keep Daryl from killing Ryan. Daryl had stormed upstairs to the bedroom he shared with Bob and Tyreese and refused to come down for dinner.
Carol had taken him a plate but even she couldn't abate his temper. She had gently pulled Sierra aside and asked her to try. Like Carol, Sierra had come to recognize Daryl's moods, and for whatever reason, she seemed to be able to corral the cagey bowman.
So Sierra didn't even bother to knock but instead opened the door and came face-to-face with a very agitated Daryl.
"That little shit almost got us killed," he groused. Sierra lifted an eyebrow and crossed her arms, leaning back against the door, causing it to shut.
"Ryan's an asshole. What's your point?" she responded.
"Guys like him shouldn't be allowed to stick 'round," he snapped. "He don't got nobody's back but his own."
Sierra calmly stood there, watching him pace. Daryl's eyes narrowed and he stepped into her personal space.
"Whatcha want anyhow?" he growled. She looked him straight in the eye and shocked both him and herself with the answer.
"You," she boldly replied.
With that, Daryl slammed his body into hers, trapping her against the door, his mouth on hers. Sierra met him kiss for kiss, bite for bite, and both groaned at the intimate contact when she hooked a leg over his hip.
She heard a click when he flipped the lock on the door and spun them around to deposit her on the bed. He followed her down, their lips still on each other. Somehow they managed to get their clothes off but he suddenly stopped before they went any further.
"You're overthinking it," Sierra told him as Daryl hovered over her, his forearms on either side of her head. She wrapped her legs around his thighs, urging him to move.
He gave in and sunk into her with a grunt. They found their rhythm, his face in her shoulder, her hands caressing his scarred skin. He leaned back enough so he could see her expression. Their eyes locked and together they reached the crest of pleasure. She bit back calling out his name. With a hiss, he managed to pull out in time and spill his seed on her stomach. He collapsed next to her and they lay there, breathing hard for a moment, before she sat up.
"I'd better get back downstairs before they come looking for me," Sierra said, wiping her stomach with the edge of her discarded shirt. Daryl watched her with a hooded gaze. She was nearly dressed when he leapt off the bed and stalked toward her.
"Miss me already?" she said, appreciatively glancing at his naked form. She gasped as he yanked down her unbuttoned jeans and tossed them aside. He hauled into his arms and lifted her up, thrusting into her while pressing her against the door.
This time was hard and fast as he pounded into her. She clung to his shoulders, her eyes closed and her mouth open, whimpers escaping her. It didn't take her long to climax and her body clenching his caused him to explode deep inside her without warning.
"I shouldn't have done that," Daryl muttered against her collarbone in between pants. Sierra grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look up.
"It's okay. I can't have kids," she breathily reassured him. He knew he would regret asking but he wanted to know the reason why.
"Why not?" he asked. Sierra looked away as he held her hips so she could lower her feet to the ground. She then met his eyes, her face somber.
"Because I was raped when I was 10. The damage forced removal of those woman parts. I can't get pregnant," she explained. She saw the shock and then anger sweep over Daryl's demeanor.
"Don't you dare feel sorry for me, Dixon. I have scars like you. You just can't see mine," Sierra said.
He didn't say anything but laid his forehead on hers in acknowledgment of their mutual suffering.
They didn't get much time to themselves for weeks after that other than the occasional touch and a stolen kiss or two.
When Ben had chosen the abandoned motel for shelter, Sierra was tempted to tell him she and Daryl were a couple so they could be assigned a room together. But she didn't want to push Daryl into something he wasn't ready for. She wanted him to be the one to decide they were a "they" and force the issue with Ben.
After a couple of harrowing incidents on the road after their stay at the motel, Daryl had reached the point of wanting Sierra permanently at his side.
He missed Rick and he missed the relative ease of living in the prison. The demands on him were grueling since he was the group's primary hunter and he wanted to curl up with Sierra at night so she could make the day fade away.
So when Ben declared the church campgrounds complete with furnished cabins they had stumbled upon as their resting spot for the time being, Daryl evoked his right to bunk with Sierra as well as a night off from his normal duties. Ben had warily agreed, his own convictions starting to wane as traveling got harder and they lost people.
Daryl made his way through the crowd in the campgrounds' cafeteria to find Sierra. She was tired from the day's walk and was dozing, her head resting on her forearms, at a table with Sasha, Tyreese and Bob.
"C'mon," Daryl softly said, tapping her shoulder. Sierra lifted her head and gave him a sleepy smile. He shouldered her pack with his own and took her hand when she stood.
She threaded her fingers between his and he looked down at their linked hands before glancing at her. Tyreese stifled a grin at the gesture. He had figured there was something going on between those two.
Daryl led Sierra to the cabin assigned to couples, going straight for the bunk bed in the back corner. He tossed their packs and his crossbow on the top bed before urging her to sit on the bottom bed. She blankly stared at him as he pulled her boots off before leaving her alone to find a blanket or sleeping bag to keep them warm.
Others filtered into the cabin, claiming bunks and milling around. Sierra scooted to the back of the bed, her back against the wall, as she waited for Daryl to return.
It didn't take him long to track down a sleeping bag in one of the cabinets. He toed off his own boots and crawled in next to her. They silently sat there as he unzipped the sleeping bag completely to make a comforter.
"Do you think Rick's alive?" Sierra quietly asked out of the blue.
"I dunno," Daryl said.
"If he is, will he find us?" she asked, fingering the zippered edge of the sleeping bag.
"Prob'ly," Daryl replied, shifting around to lie down and tug her down with him. She curled against him, relieved for once they could finally sleep together. He pulled the sleeping bag over them.
"He'll find us. He always does," he muttered as they fell into a dreamless sleep.
A/N: Well there you have it. Hope you liked this strange little trip. Please review!