“Go!”
The man shoved his rifle between Daryl’s shoulder blades and he slid down a small slope on the wet ground, shaking his head and trying to stay clear, trying to remember that he had been through even worse situations. He had come out of more dangerous situations and would have come out of it again, it had been a week since he had hardly ever ate and at least ten hours he did not drink, he noticed his chapped lips and the pain in every part of his body. The group that had captured Rick and the rest had no qualms about beating them, especially after they understood Daryl could bring them back to the boat. The night before, her boss had sent one of his men to remotely check that everything was alright, but the man had come back and said that the boat was not left in place. Now one could say of all these men: They were bastards, they stank to death and seemed to retire to a subhuman level because of the apocalypse, as if the goal was to return to the barbarian era… But unfortunately they weren’t as dumb as it seems. They had already proven to be smart enough to trap them, and Daryl had become quite nervous. Was it possible that he, Rick, Michonne, would give up like Alicia? Perhaps they had felt so safe on their boat that they thought they were invulnerable, or simply stopped worrying about the world around them. Some pangs of conscience came over Daryl when he realized that he had been guided by his feelings at the time. He wouldn’t have noticed that a rival group followed them, even if they had appeared on the bridge and greeted them. He cursed himself for his stupidity and thought that if something happened to somebody, it would be his fault as well, no matter how things would turn out. He hadn’t paid attention and had lowered his guard…
“Your friends left you.”, the bandit boss had commented the night before. He was a small man, thin but strong. In the old world, he must have been someone insignificant, one of those who went unnoticed. The end of the world had produced its wisest, bestial side. In all honesty Daryl couldn’t accuse him. The man had checked their faces individually and ran like an undeniable judge in front of them, watching them closely. He moved his hands behind his back and made him look like an elegant man, with a little manners. He stopped in front of Carl and leaned over him.
“Do you think they’re gone?” The boy did not answer.
“No… You are not like that… You are honest and loyal people and those people don’t give up their friends… But don’t worry we will look for them ourselves and we will tell them…”
Occasionally the laughter followed from the rest of his group and Carl shot him a look that looked more annoyed than angry. The bandits had spied on them long enough to realize that Daryl was a bloodhound, and that they were tracking the boat. He had contradicted and said there was no sign of it, but one of the men had silenced him with a slap on the back of his head with his pistol. The pain had been superficial for a few hours, but shortly after they had started the return journey early in the morning, the pain in his head had brought him to the edge of despair. It was like a hammering migraine pulsing and broadcasting upwards. Daryl tried not to think about it, unfortunately that meant he was thinking of something else. The dilemma was profound: He didn’t know if he should relieve or care about Y/N. The bandit boss had left Rick and the rest of the group in a shop as a mound of misery, then caught the attention of the surrounding Walkers and lured them into a deadly trap. If they could free themselves, they had to find a way out, and that task was made quite difficult for them. At least they knew they were in danger. But Y/N, Glenn, Maggie and maybe even Nick had no idea what would happen to them… He didn’t know how they could react under fire. They would be dumbfounded and then they would first have to understand where the danger came from, then arm themselves and then quickly think about how to protect themselves. There were very few chances to get out of this fight. The boss of the bandits had been clever: He wanted to avoid the most dangerous conflict and he had succeeded. He would have no qualms about fighting four people and a child.
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Fight The Dead Fear The Living (Daryl Dixon x Reader｜Nick Clark x Reader)
Fanfiction"Nothing ever happened between us because you've never done anything for it. You always stayed alone." "I understand. But nobody gives me anything here.", Daryl said, still looking at Y/N. Who knows how many outstretched hands he had ignored in his...
