Lost ; Daryl Dixon

Chapter 24

It was the fifth night in a row that Daryl had woken to find Y/N fighting for breath, her whole body trembling as she battled to draw oxygen into her lungs. He could hear her gasping for air in the darkness, fumbling for his lighter so he could highlight her panicked face against the shadows where she sat, curled up with her knees pressed against her chest, her gun clutched white-knuckle tight in her fist. She'd usually take the first watch, letting the archer get his head down and rest for a few hours before he'd relieve her and watch her over for the rest of the night, but after the first week, her anxiety had gotten out of control, leaving her a vulnerable sobbing mess.

Each time he found her in this state, he would wrap her up in his arms, breathing with her until her shaking subsided and she'd collapse against him, her body exhausted as the fear ebbed away. He hated seeing her like this. It killed him every time he saw her eyes wide with terror as her chest heaved, her lungs fighting to expand and give her the relief she needed. He wasn't even sure what it was that she was scared of: the dark, the walkers, strangers lurking in the trees, him... Things weren't good between them and he knew it was his fault. Every promise he'd made to himself had slipped away as his jealousy and hurt had risen to the surface, and his mind had become saturated with toxic thoughts.

He knew she'd forgiven him for all of the things he'd done, all of the lives he'd taken, knew she didn't judge him. He could see in her eyes that she genuinely didn't think of him any differently, but that bothered him more than he would have believed. He'd admitted to her that he'd killed people on their knees in surrender, that he'd shot on instinct, without asking questions. He'd told her he was out of control, that he couldn't trust himself anymore, that he could feel the blood on his hands. And she'd crawled into his lap and lost herself in him, wrapped herself around him and made him forget. A small part of him couldn't help but wonder if she'd done that with another bloodthirsty murderer not so long ago. Maybe she found it easier to forgive what he'd done because she'd done it before. Maybe a part of her got off on it. He couldn't believe that he was even thinking this of her, but the fact that she'd agreed to become a wife, to join Negan's harem had risen to the surface of his mind as they'd grown comfortable in their routines once more, and he couldn't force it back down. The fact that she hadn't mentioned it to him, that she hadn't opened up when he'd given her the opportunity... He could only assume that it was because the the head Savior had meant something to her, that she was hurting somehow without him, and it was cutting him up inside. His anger simmered constantly below the surface, and as it did, he grew increasingly afraid that he would hurt her, that he would lash out and cause her harm.

Still, he loved her, and seeing her terrified and fighting for breath, locked inside a prison of anxiety and panic, was more than he could take. He knew now that it was only a matter of time before he had to let her return home, to Alexandria and the family, and that would leave him facing a horrible decision. Did he stay with her, or did he escort her back and take off again? As he felt her grow calmer in his arms on that fifth night, he knew he had to make his choice. Y/N couldn't go on like this.

*****

'What the hell were you thinking?' Y/N rounded on Daryl as soon as they stepped through the door of their bedroom. 'What the hell kinda deal was that? I can't even believe those words came out of your mouth in there!'

'Here we go,' he grumbled, rolling his eyes as he dropped his gun onto the bed, sinking down next to it.

'What?'

'Damn, girl, s'like ya don't trust me to make decisions no more. I can't do nothin' without ya questionin' me on it all the time.'