✧ 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐒: twd imagines

the loner; daryl dixon

( LONER. )
daryl x fem!reader.

summary:
badly injured, you look for help at a
local convenient store. lucky enough
to stumble across someone who takes
you back to their group. after being
in a coma for the past seven days she
awakes to find herself locked in a
holding cell.

story setting:
in the prison
— seasons 4-5

warnings:
mentions of blood, coma
injuries,

──── .·:*¨༺ ────

tattered pants, bloody skin, brushed knee. anyone in that situation would have thought you'd be a goner for sure. limping away on one leg as a swarm of the undead chased after you. a pile of rotting corpses lay in a circle around where you took your final stand. though it hurt like hell, you were still able to kill some of the bastards.

unsure if you were even bit as blood pooled from the large gash on your leg. you hurried as fast as you could manage, your vision continuously fading in and out of darkness. starting to lose consciousness as you moved forwards hoping for some type of metrical. at least fifteen were hot on your trail and they didn't seem to be slowing down anytime soon.

it could have been because of the adrenaline rush, making you see things that weren't there. but the way the light shined in front of you made it look like a car had just parked not far away. the light briefly beamed from outside a gas station, before vanishing. like there was any other option than to go towards the light.

you could hear the gurgling of the dead gaining on you. panicked, you made your way to the closest entry point around the back of the building. you swung open the door and hurried inside, only a few seconds later did you hear them banging on the outside. you held the bruise on your arm and hobbled inside the abandoned dump.

you weren't the type to beg for someone's help, but now wasn't the time to let pride get in the way. it was clear as day that you needed help fast if you wanted to survive. blood smeared in a trail behind you as you dragged your leg along, your body was so weak it couldn't lift a limb if your life depended on it.

if there was someone here they would probably mistake you for one of the dead, and kill you on sight. pale skin, sunken eyes, and bleeding profusely. if you would have looked in the mirror the sight staring back at you would have resembled a walking corpse.

dragging yourself along you clung to the wall as you walked. "stop right there, don't move." hearing that raspy voice sent a chill down your spine. at least you were right about the car. you stood there barely able to keep yourself standing. knees buckled back as you held onto the wall for dear life.

"please... help," you uttered weakly, wincing in pain as you were forced to remain standing on your injured leg. your vision blurred as you tried to locate where the person's voice had come from. "you bit?" he asked. you shook your head.

"don't think so but- i-i can't really check right now," you muttered. your knees felt like they were being snapped in half, unable to hold your weight they sent you plummeting toward the hard tiled flooring. that was until you felt something wrap around you to keep you from hitting the ground.

you could see the crossbow dangling by his side as his arm wrapped around your shoulder. you did the same, moving your aching elbow was painful but you managed to get it around his shoulder. the stranger helped you to stand. soon after your ears rang with this annoying static sound.

he risked it all by trying to help you. if you were faking he just put himself in a very vulnerable position. from the small conversation, you couldn't tell if he was a genuinely nice person or if he was just dumb.