Triggerfinger ➳ Daryl Dixon

t h i r t e e n

Slowly, Presley recoiled from the man. Daryl couldn't help himself-- he swiftly moved forward and grabbed her arm protectively, eyeing the man suspiciously. Fortunately for himself, she didn't even seem to notice. 

The man was fair skinned, but not nearly as pale as his daughter. His hair was peppered with gray and black, same with the stubble lining his chin. Still, Daryl could see the resemblance in the stubborn set of his jaw that Presley often had when she wasn't getting her way. He was probably once a very handsome man-- not that he wasn't now.

"Presley." The man's voice was deep and scruffy as he walked quickly towards her. Much to everybody's shock, she took a step back. Daryl could see that she was torn, and he didn't exactly blame her. If Merle just magically showed up in front of him, there likely wouldn't be a happy reunion filled with tears and manly hugs. 

Pain and confusion flashed briefly over John's face. He continued to eye his daughter, "Presley, it's me..."

She didn't believe him until Zeva trotted forward, her tongue flopping happily out of her mouth as she pressed herself against John's leg, peering up at the old friend with happy panting racking her sleek body. Her eyes softened, and soon enough, she rushed him into a hug. Daryl reluctantly let go, his eyes darkening as the man caught her and wrapped her up in his arms, dropping everything that had once been in his hands.

"A little jealous, are we?" Carol's voice was teasing, but he immediately reacted by becoming defensive.

"Course not." He stole a glance in their direction. "It's natural to hold a lil grudge after a man points a gun at 'yer head." 

"Oh, I'm sure." Carol laughed. Though Daryl would never see Carol as more than a friend, he would always appreciate how good of a friend she'd been... Even if he would never admit it. He looked back to Presley, John, and Zeva. They were a happy trio. 

Rick approached Daryl and Carol, eyeing John with the same suspicious gaze that Daryl had. "Is he safe?" Rick being Rick, couldn't trust anybody... Even himself at this point. 

"Should be." Daryl shrugged. He didn't feel very safe when a gun was pointed at his head, but the man didn't have his hands wrapped around Presley's throat, so that was a good sign... He hoped. "I'd say we can trust anybody with a relation to Pres." 

Rick chuckled, "Yeah, probably." 

Morgan appeared beside them. "We aren't far from Alexandria, but I think we should camp and let them catch up. It'll probably be best to arrive in the morning instead of late at night, anyways." 

The group was eyeing John and Presley, but none of them would dare say anything to Presley. If John was anything like his daughter, he probably had the damned quills of a porcupine and the temper of a raging bull. 

"Daryl, come here." Presley waved him over, a brilliant smile lighting up her face. Though her teeth were a bit yellowed, same as everybody elses', she looked beautiful. A smile that bright was a rare thing to see on her anymore. He walked over without hesitance. "Dad, this is Daryl." 

John eyed Daryl, but his expression was unreadable. The only thing Daryl felt from him was cold... Very cold. John's taut expression reminded him of a cobra ready to strike. John was likely a very unforgiving man-- not the sort of man you'd want to mess around with. Daryl offered his hand regardless. John took it firmly, not bothering to mask the grim expression on his face. "Hello, Daryl." His voice lacked the Southern accent that most people around here had. He sounded quite like Presley, actually. 

"Pleasure." 

"Likewise." Both the men were stiff.

In the old world, Daryl was the kind of man that Presley would be warned away from. If she had come home with Daryl on her arm, John likely would have came out onto the porch with a loaded shotgun and every intention to kill. However, this was a new world. She'd have one hell of a time finding a lawyer. Still, Daryl did feel like there were still expectations set. 

Daryl didn't trust this man.

He could hardly say anything, though. It'd been ages since he'd last seen Presley smiling as bright as she was. She led her father away with the intention of introducing them to the rest of the group, keeping a tight grip on his arm. Daryl simply watched.

He wanted to be happy for her, truly... But something just wasn't right. 

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 185K READS ON ARROWHEAD
THAT'S SO INCREDIBLE 

This chapter is kind of short, but I was really excited about 185k mark that I thought ya'll deserved an update. c: 

If you want an early update, ask me a question in the comments. It can be anything-- about me, about the story, my writing, ect. If I get enough questions I'll definitely give an early post ;)

Please remember to vote!