Lost ; Daryl Dixon

Chapter 17

Daryl woke to the feel of gentle hands stroking his hair, the sun filtering through the leaves to caress over his dirt-crusted skin, and a feeling of peace washed over him. He'd had nightmares, of course he'd had nightmares, but there'd been an inherent awareness that they weren't real, so he didn't jolt awake panicked and shaking, expecting ghosts to be watching him from the shadows. He kept his eyes closed for a few moments, enjoying the tranquillity and the feeling of a human touch, but the change in his breathing had already alerted Carol to his conscious state and she flicked at his ear, laughing when he pushed himself upright, a disgruntled scowl on his face.

He felt relaxed with Carol, almost in the same way he did with Y/N. He knew that back in the early days of their stay at the prison, Y/N had thought their might be something between the pair of them, and he could understand why. They were of an age, and had both experienced abuse at the hands of those that were supposed to protect them. They understood each other, could communicate without speaking, and damn, even he could appreciate that Carol was a gorgeous woman and a total badass to boot, but his heart had never really gone there. His focus had always been 100% on Y/N, even before she'd started making his stomach tighten and his breath hitch in his throat with her cute little smile and the hypnotic swing of her hips as she walked. She'd taken over his life when she'd taken a chance on him and, now she was gone, he thought he might never look at a woman in that way again. That didn't mean he didn't appreciate a little closeness from an old friend though, and he nudged Carol affectionately as he continued to glower at her for his rude awakening.

'What the hell was that for?'

'My legs went dead about five hours ago,' she grumbled, levering herself to her feet and steadying herself against the tree as she waited for the numbness to subside.

'Still coulda woken me up nicer than that,' Daryl complained, and she smirked at him as she bent down to massage her calves.

'You were already awake! I know you better than that.'

'Yeah, whatever.'

She shook her head at his grouchy attitude, pushing herself upright again and stretching her back out. 'Shall we start again? Good morning, pookie.'

'Stop.' It was too early for her teasing, yet he felt some of the ice in his veins start to thaw as they slipped back into their old behaviours, and he couldn't keep the crooked half-smile from his face.

'How are you feeling this morning?'

'Better for gettin' some sleep,' he admitted. 'Thanks for keepin' watch.'

Nodding, she averted her eyes to the ground, before they flicked back up to his with concern flaring up behind her gaze. 'I was thinking about what you said last night, about Y/N becoming one of Negan's wives.'

Daryl flinched, unprepared for the pain that spiked through him at her words, but nodding, ducking his head as dug the heel of his boot into the dirt.

'I don't believe it,' she confessed. 'I'm sorry, I just don't. I cannot believe that Y/N would do that, not to you.'

'Well, she did.'

'And why do you think that? Because a Savior told you? Maybe he was just trying to mess with you, get a reaction.'

'Well, he got one. I put an arrow through his damn skull.'