daryl dixon imagines

thirteen

A scream-sob leaves your throat as you watch the final person- Enid- get her head brutally chopped off by alpha, meaning you have to be next. You're not ready to die, you have so much of your damn life ahead of you. You're not ready to leave daryl, you're not ready to leave Alexandria, you're not ready to leave the warmth and comfort that you had found in your life. And of course, this asshole had to leave you alive in the corner to watch all of it, just so you knew what you had coming. She walks over to you, holding the bloody machete. You squint your eyes shut, letting out a sob as she surprisingly grabs your chin with her hand instead, causing you to open your eyes.

"Shut up! You're not gonna die! We're keeping you alive to give the others our message. To tell them all about the horrors you've seen today, to prove we don't play games! Tie her up!" Alpha orders.

"No!" you cry as a man punches you in the face, everything going black.

When you fall back into consciousness, you feel yourself being dragged from under your arms. You can feel a gag in your mouth, and a blindfold around your eyes. But all you can see in the pitch black, is the repeated vision of all your friends' heads being cut off. You start to worriedly cry again, biting onto the gag to try and release some of the built up tension inside of you.

It feels like hours by the time there's what feels like a tree that you're sat up against, your hands being tied behind your back and another rope tied around your body to keep you to the tree before the blindfold is pulled from your eyes. You have to squint from the bright sun suddenly clouding your vision, compared to the dark barn you were just in. You hyperventilate as you look at all the whisperers around you, then muffedly screaming when you look to your right and see everyone's head stuck on the top of a long stick, all in a perfect line, and it's like they're all staring right at you.

"Tell your group this is our new border. It is to be followed and I take broken rules seriously," Alpha threatens before turning to walk away with her group. You manage to loosen the gag enough with your mouth, spitting it out.

"What if a walker gets me, you bitch?! Who's gonna share your stupid message now?! Huh?!"

She slowly turns around, a small smirk on her lips.

"Trust me. Your friends are comin' for ya. They're smart. Plus, if you stay quiet enough, you won't have that problem," she says before walking past the 'border' and disappearing into the woods. One of the guys retie the gag in your mouth before running to follow behind the rest of the group. It's almost as if the word 'quiet' forced another scream from your mouth, still muffled by the gag. You quickly rub the rope around your wrists against the log of the tree, trying to wear it down. You squint your eyes as the tears cloud your vision, and due to the pain of your wrists being skinned as they are also being rubbed against the tree, most likely going to cause pretty nasty cut later. But it's sorta the least of your worries right now.

Weirdly, after only minutes of you crying and rubbing your wrists, the group all comes running towards you from the woods. Daryl's first in line, rushing to crouch in front of you, pulling the gag from your mouth first.

"They're dead!" you sob loudly, looking over to your right at the heads. Everyone, including daryl, all look over at your friends heads severed onto sticks, mouths agape. Some people start to cry also, everyone running towards the scene. Daryl is quick peel his eyes away, focusing on taking out his knife to cut the ropes keeping you tied down. Finally, when he finishes, he helps you up and you immediately throw your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. He does nothing but stay silent and hold you, gently playing with your hair as he most likely stares at the scene behind you.

-

You silently sit on the couch in the living room, stale tears staining your cheeks. New ones just continue to fall down, but you hardly notice as the images burn through your brain.

-

"Hey, daryl. How's- uh- (y/n) been lately?"Rick asks as he reaches daryl in the garage, handing him the toolbox daryl had just asked him to retrieve from the house for his motorcycle. Daryl places the box down, releasing a sigh through his nose before answering.

"Been tough for her," daryl answers briefly, wiping his hands with the rag.

"Well, I just walked past her and she didn't even notice me. She was crying. I don't know if you wanna check on her or somethin'," Rick awkwardly trails off.

"No use. She don't acknowledge me, either. And every time I look at her she's cryin'. But not like sobs. Just tears always runnin' down her cheeks. She don't talk, she don't move. I don't know what to do," daryl says, confiding in his good friend.

"Has she said much about that day? Other than the border thing," Rick asks.

"I asked. She just said that they made her watch every single person- Y'know. Didn't wanna push her," daryl says. Rick shrugs slightly.

"She's traumatized. Somethin' like that, takes time to heal. She'll be alright. You've got one tough girl."