Echoes from the past (Daryl Dixon x reader)

#15 - the attack

You were sleeping so deeply that you didn't notice that Daryl came back to your cell after a few hours. He couldn't sleep a wink, knowing that you were lying here alone, without protection. Even if you don't have the flu, your condition is enough for fear to take hold of him.

Again and again he paced restlessly around the small room without leaving it again. He was constantly talking to you in a soothing way, which had more of an effect on him than on you, who were still asleep.

When he wasn't running around, he brushed the hair off your forehead, put your blanket right. Every movement of yours was watched with a critical eye.

All night long he watched over you like a guardian angel.

You startle up in bed as Daryl's voice comes piercingly to your attention. You lie on the bed panting and are only finally awakened by the whispering voices in the corridor, which sound more as if the whole thing is about to end in a physical confrontation. No matter how hard you try to understand what it's about, you can't make out a word. You can't even make out who the second person in the hall is. Your head is back throbbing and you still have the feeling of being under water. As you try to get up, dizziness hits you again and you struggle to remain in a sitting position. At this point, however, your stomach seems to turn, and you know you can't stop it, so luckily you reach in time for the bucket that is on the ground next to your bed. Coughing and gasping, you throw up several times, with your stomach cramping painfully, until finally you can only detect the bitter taste of bile in your mouth.

Your grip on the bucket is shaking as you hold on to it without moving, your eyes closed.

Only when you feel a hand on your shoulder you open your eyes weakly and discover Daryl looking at you with serious concern. He takes the bucket from your hand and places it on the floor beside you.

"Shhh, you're okay. I'm here... At least ya still don't have a fever. Hershel will probably be right that ya only have been out in the sun too much..." he whispers with a smile, and when you flinch away as he begins to dab your face with a wet towel, he hesitates for a moment, watching you with a frown. Never before have you flinched away from him, and that fact increases his worry even more. With tears in your eyes, you look to him, wanting to tell him that he had better stay away from you, but no words leave your mouth. You feel weak, as if you haven't slept for days and even the glass of water he hands you seems to weigh a ton.

"Lie down, sleep a bit more. I'll be right back, hon. I promise. Wait and see, Hershel said ya feel better by lunchtime, so ya can eat again," a slight smile is on his lips as he runs his hand over your hair again and again. His gaze is so gentle, so caring. And he knows exactly what you need now. You close your eyes as his lips meet your forehead, your hands weakly reaching for his shirt as you don't have the strength to wrap them around his neck. But you don't have to, as he presses you against him as close as he can. Again and again he whispers to you that everything will be all right, and that you should trust him.

"I just need to check somethin' with Rick, try to get some sleep. And when ya wake up I'll be back" he explains in a quiet voice and a tear makes its way as you feel his lips on your forehead again. He whipes it quickly away and after a final checking he carefully helps you to lay back on the bed and covers you up. You can make out the outline of Rick standing in the doorway and when you hear the clacking of the metal bucket and Daryl disappears from the cell with it, you are almost back asleep.

*

But you are not awakened by Daryl's lips on your forehead, or the warm feeling of his hand on your cheek.

It is a bang that startles you awake. Gasping, you let your eyes close for a moment, trying to get your racing pulse under control somehow.

It was a nightmare, no panic needed.