•A DARYL DIXON STORY•
"I need you to listen to me. When we're out there together, if I say run, run. If I tell you to leave me, then damn it, you leave and you don't look back."
"Daryl," she sighed softly, shaking her head.
"No, I mean it," he argue...
'dream happy dreams. you are the only one who has ever touched my heart. it will always be yours.' -stephenie meyer
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Songbirds.
Their cheerful, harmonious melody floated down from the tree tops and filled her senses, one of the first her brain registered as outside.
Freedom.
The air smelled like tree bark and leaves, the woodsy scent wrapping around her skin, masking the iron rust of the blood caked on her.
Every moment since Zeppelin first stepped foot into the Sanctuary had felt like a dream. Or, not a dream, really. A nightmare. The constant prick of anxiety deep in her gut made her nauseous, and the fine layer of sweat coating her flesh settled into a chill she felt deep in her bones. Rage had boiled in her blood for days; her body had been stuck in a perpetual state of fight or flight.
Now, she felt.. soft, calm... weak.
She clung a little tighter to the man in front of her as they blazed past the trees, the soft greens and browns of the wildlife blurring into a muddled pool of colors around her. She hadn't been able to bring herself to really look at him, not yet. Not until she was sure.. sure that she wouldn't wake up in the woods somewhere or at the bottom of that ravine, still alone and afraid.
Daryl.
She had hardly let herself think his name, breathe in his scent, feel the warmth of his skin against hers, out of sheer fear that none of it was real. Her dreams had always felt so real before, so terrifying deep in her core that they throttled her awake, shivering and crying until she had learned to smother those reactions down. If this were another... it would almost be too cruel to let herself believe he was here.
The bike slowed, and she felt his rough hand tap her arm twice, snapping her attention back into focus. "Hang on, Ace, just keep hangin' on to me. Don't fall asleep, okay?"
Ace.
The nickname warmed the icy layer in her chest, splintering the solid casing before it completely melted away. She didn't realize she had loosened her grip on him, and tightened it now, unwilling to slip away and lose the feeling of his sturdy frame against hers. He pushed the bike to full speed again, putting as much distance between them and the Saviors as the machine would allow.
The Saviors... bullshit. The name did nothing for anyone other than feeding their own ravenous ego, a taunting jeer in the face of everyone who damn sure wasn't saved by them. She thought of Lisa, who believed she had no option other than to be Negan's wife. She should've asked her to come with them, to show her that you can be loved and protected, saved, without the expectation of giving something in return. She thought of the woman in the woods, brave enough to fight for her friend with an empty pistol.. and it cost her her life. She wondered how many other innocents were there, trapped under the bloody thumb of Negan. She wondered how many of them lost those innocent lives when she set the boiler room to flames.
