Disclaimer:
I'm the author of this story. The Walking Dead is the source of the original work. Daryl Dixon/OC fantasy. I don't know Daryl Dixon, do not own the character Daryl Dixon, and do not mean to cause harm, confusion or headaches. This story is simply intended for enjoyment of the readers. Please don't sue me!
Two days later the original fence was almost completely repaired, and the yard was once again secure and clear of walkers. Glenn had a stroke of genius, and with a little ingenuity and a lot of trial and error began to build a second, outer fence out of the prison bars from long empty cells, welding the doors and bars together one at a time and then burying them into the ground. It ended up being stronger than the original fence to begin with, though the process was tedious and was going to take time. However, people were starting to breathe a little easier at the promise of securing the prison further, to the point where it could potentially be a permanent community, a permanent home.
I was anxious and restless after the day the fence came down on Daryl. I was sick about what could have happened, what might have been, and I couldn't focus on much else. Plus, people looked at me differently even after what actually did happen. Eyes were a little harder, a little narrower. I overheard more than a few whispered discussions wondering if it was all to protect Daryl, or if I'd snapped. I withdrew more into myself after that, even pulling away from Daryl, putting some distance between us. How much I loved him terrified me. I was at a point where I didn't think I'd survive anymore without him, nor did I really want to. And that was dangerous, that could get someone killed.
I was also worried about what might have happened to him if I hadn't been in the guard tower. What if I were just strolling the yard? Or patrolling the fence with him? I'd handled walkers on my own before, a few at a time, sure. But that many? Was I strong enough to fight them off, to run? To save Daryl? I wasn't so sure I was, and the thought of that made me sick to my stomach.
I was sitting on a picnic table top a ways off from the group on the other side of the compound, feet resting on the bench while I stripped the bark off a stick I had picked up, twisting the wood and my thoughts right along with it. The throat clearing behind me scared the shit out of me, and I whipped around while reaching for my knife to meet the stony gaze of the very man I was thinking of.
I exhaled a sigh of annoyance and relief and turned my back to him, going back to skinning the stick, peeling away layers like an onion. The table shook as he climbed up on it and heavily plopped down beside me, mirroring my pose and resting his elbows on his knees.
"Tell me," he said gruffly, tilting his head to look at my face.
I kept my eyes on the stick, refusing to look at him. Words spun around in my head, but I couldn't settle on any to release. What was there to say? I'm hurt that people are terrified of me? I'm frankly a little terrified of myself now? I also think if I hadn't been up there you would be dead? Oh yeah, and I don't think I could have helped if I didn't have a gun?
A big hand covered my own, crushing the stick between my fingers, squeezing both of my hands into a ball. "Remember what I said to ya before?" His was voice still gruff but gentler, as his thumb began to trace circles over my knuckles.
I tilted my head then towards him, still not able to bring my eyes up to meet his. I was barely holding back the tears at this point, and one look at him and I knew I'd be lost.
"After we got back from that compound, when I brought ya home. Ya remember?" He ground out, thumb still tracing those circles.
I inhaled sharply at that. I remembered, oh God I remembered. The tears were pushing forward on their own accord now, flowing freely down through the dirt on my face.
"I told you- no matter where ya go, where ya are, I will always find ya," he repeated. "And that includes if ya drowning in ya own head." He yanked he suddenly to him by my hands, pulling me into the strong circle of his arms, and I crushed my face into the side of his neck as I started to sob.
"What if I hadn't… And then you'd be… But people think… I'm not crazy… It's just…" I sobbed and mumbled incoherently into his neck. Daryl chuckled softly into my hair, his hand rubbing soothingly up and down my back, holding me while I sobbed.
" 'M gonna need ya to repeat that in a minute," he whispered teasingly into my hair, holding me close.
My tears started to slow as he pulled back slightly, taking hold of my chin and forcing me to look up into his eyes. They were warm, and he was smiling softly as his gaze met mine. "Ya ain't getting' rid of me that easily. Few walkers ain't nothin' if we're fighten' 'em together, ya hear me?"
I let out a heavy sigh, eyes closing slightly at the end. "What if I hadn't been up in the tower?" I wondered. "What if I'd been down in the yard, with you? I mean, I can fight up close and all, but with that many?" I shook my head sadly, hiccupping a bit as a few more tears came into my eyes.
He leaned down and gently kissed each of my cheeks, then my forehead, then my closed eyelids, before placing a soft kiss on my lips. "Would ya feel better if we practiced fightin' more? Could train ya more on hand to hand combat, and escape holds and that sorta thing."
The thought of that instantly settled my nerves and a sense of calm over me, and I nodded up at him, smiling shyly. "I'd like that," I whispered, voice a bit strained from crying.
His eyes started to sparkle as they met mine, and a devilish grin broke out over his features. "Good. Trainin' starts now."
The slight tense in his muscles was all the warning I had before I was swept up and tossed over his shoulder as he ran around the side of the compound. Waves of giggles bubbled up out of me as I smacked him on the ass. "Put me down!"
He slapped my ass back, still running until he suddenly halted and pushed me up against the wall of the prison. Still holding me a few feet off the ground, body pressed tight against mine, he shook his head as his eyes glinted down to mine. "Make me," he growled, sending shivers dancing down my spine to tingle around my clit. And damn him, he knew it, the way he was pressing tight against me, breath tickling across my neck.
I fought to keep the moan in as I turned my head into his neck. I licked and nipped my way from the top of his shoulder to behind his ear, pausing to grate my teeth over his sensitive spot before sucking down. He groaned and pushed into me, loosening his hold slightly on my hips. It was all I needed—I slammed my feet into the wall behind me, pushing off hard enough to push him back and stumble out of his grasp before sprinting away into the yard behind him.
I was fast, but he was quick as lightening, and as I turned around to gloat my eyes widened as his hand closed down on my wrist and he tackled me to the ground, turning so he took most of the fall and I collapsed on top of him. I was giggling heavily now, and he caught my other wrist before flipping so I was pinned below him. He kissed me then, his kiss hard and bruising, punishing my mouth, claiming it in a mixture of lips and teeth and tongue. His hips were pinning mine to the damp grass, grinding his erection into me as he bit his way down my neck, teeth grazing, marking me as he tasted the sweat on my skin.
I shuddered under him, pushing my hips up to his, a low whine escaping my throat as he sucked down on the lobe of my ear. He pulled us both up suddenly, hands tightening around my ass to pull me up to him. I greedily wrapped my legs around him as he walked us back to the wall and shoved me up against it. I ground my wetness into his erection and he purred into my ear as I ran my nails over his shirt on his back.
"Take me," I moaned into his hair, winding my fingers as I slipped my legs down. He yanked my jeans and underwear off roughly, before unbuckling his belt and sliding his jeans and boxers down to his ankles. He palmed my ass again, lifting me up as I spread my legs to wrap back around his waist.
He entered me, hard and rough and full of need, and I threw my head back against the wall and moaned at the feel of him filling me completely. He wasn't gentle, but I didn't want him to be, as he thrust into me repeatedly, his tongue mirroring his actions in my mouth. His hand came down to slap my ass again, and before I knew it I was spiraling out of control, coming undone in his arms as I tightened around him, clenching with the force of my orgasm. He followed after me with a groan into my ear, panting as he found his release inside me.
He pulled out of me and stepped away from the wall, pulling up his pants and watching as I pulled up mine. He wound his hand in my hair and closed the distance once again, until I had to arch my back to look up and meet his gaze. He looked down at me with an expression I couldn't read, eyes roving over my face hungrily, before his swollen lips met mine again for a tender kiss.
"Did ya mean it?" He whispered, voice rough and low.
My face flamed as I thought back to what he was asking about. Somehow I knew, he had heard me the other night when I whispered I loved him. But I held his gaze as his eyes searched mine, before giving him a small nod. He crushed me tight to his chest, shoving my face into his neck as he rested his against mine. "Me, too." He growled into my ear. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, shutting my eyes to hold in the tears once again.
"Good," I whispered back to him.