Beauty and Her Beast (Daryl Dixon Fanfic)

22

When Daryl came back from the shed Randall is in, his knuckles were bloody. My heart sank in my chest. I knew it had to be done, but I didn't like it. "Boy there's got a gang, 30 men. They got heavy artillery and they ain't looking to make friends. They roll through here, our boys are dead. And our women, they're gonna-they're gonna wish they were." He looked at me.

"What did you do?" Carol asked.

I scoffed at her. "What do you think he did?" She glared at me. Daryl walked over to where I sat. I stood up and he sat down, patting his lap. I sat down, smiling as his arms wrapped around my waist.

"No one goes near this guy." Rick announced.

"Rick, what are you gonna do?"

"We have no choice. He's a threat. We have to eliminate the threat."

"You're just gonna kill him?" Dale asked.

Rick ignored him. "It's settled. I'll do it today." He walked away, Dale following closely.

Daryl tapped my thigh. "Come on. Let's go to the tent."

~*~

I was sitting on the ground, sharpening my knives, watching Daryl make arrows. I chuckled. "How'd I end up so lucky?"

Daryl looked at me, his brow furrowed. "What?"

I smiled. "I don't know how I ended up so lucky, getting a guy like you. Come here."

Daryl scoffed, walking over and sitting cross legged in front of me. "What?"

I grabbed his hand, using my water bottle and a rag to clean his bloody knuckles. "Are you mad?" He asked.

I shook my head. "No, I'm not mad. I may not like the thought of it, but I know it had to be done."

Daryl nodded, grabbing my hands. "Good. I can't stand it when you're mad at me."

I chuckled, eying the bit of skin I could see when the wind blew his shirt up. "You should take your shirt off more often."

His face hardened. "You know why I don't."

I bit my lip. "We're alone, Daryl."

He eyed me for a minute before kissing me and standing up to take his shirt off. He stopped when he looked behind me. "The whole point of me coming up here is to get away from you people."

I stood up, grabbing the cane Hershel let me use so I could leave that god forsaken bed. "Gonna take more than that." Dale said.

"Carol send you?"

"Carol's not the only one that's concerned about you, your new role in the group."

Daryl glanced at him briefly. "Oh man, I don't need my head shrunk. This group's broken. We're better off fending for ourselves."

"You act like you don't care."

"Yeah, it's 'cause I don't." Daryl said as he put on his jacket, getting ready to go hunting just to avoid Dale.

"So, live or die, you don't care what happens to Randall?"

"Nope."

"Then why not stand with me, both of you, try to save the kid's life, if it really doesn't matter one way or the other?"

"Didn't peg you for a desperate son of a bitch."

"Your opinion makes a difference."

Daryl picked up his crossbow, slinging it over his shoulder. "Man, ain't nobody looking at me for nothing."

"Carol is, and I am. Right now. And you obviously-you have Rick's ear."

"Rick just looks to Shane. Let him."

"You cared about what happened to Sophia. Cared what it meant to the group. Torturing people, that isn't you. You're a decent man. So is Rick. Shane, he's different."

Daryl raised his brow. "Why's that? 'Cause he killed Otis?"

Dale's expression changed completely. "He tell you that?"

"He told some story-how Otis covered him, saved his ass. He showed up with the dead guy's gun. Rick ain't stupid. If he didn't figure it out, it's 'cause he didn't wanna. It's like I said-group's broken." Daryl walked away, leaving the two of us alone.

Dale looked at me. I put my hand up. "Don't look at me. Daryl's right. The group is more broken than you realize."

~*~

Later on, I was in our tent, waiting for Daryl to get back because I couldn't do anything else. Hershel's orders. Of course I tried to help around camp, but Hershel had told Rick, who forced me to stop working. Luke had paid me a visit not long ago to show me the math problems he solved and to give me a drawing of him, Daryl and I. He left quickly after that, saying something about Dale letting him help work on the RV. I heard rustling outside. I got up, gun in one hand, knife in the other. I opened the tent flap, sighing in relief to see it was only Carl. He was next to Daryl's bike, staring at me with wide eyes with Daryl's gun in his hand. "Don't tell, please."

"You know it's not a toy, right?" He nodded, his face serious. I smiled. "Go ahead, I won't tell. Daryl will never know." He smiled, running off.

Daryl came back a short time later, a smirk on his face. He hung up the squirrels he shot and dropped his crossbow, picking me up and bringing me into our tent. He tossed me on the cot and I crossed my arms, pouting. "What's wrong?" He asked once he got his shirt off.

"You left without saying goodbye."

He chuckled, undoing his belt. "I guess I better make it up to you, then."