The Walking Dead One Shots

Trees (Daryl Dixon)

There was something that felt so...right about being in between the trees. You could hear the life--and death--around you with ease. The luminescent green leaves seemed to whisper coded messages in the wind. Bright, wild flowers winked up from the ground. I felt at ease there. I was in my element there. It was like I knew everything that went on in the forest. I turned around to see a crossbow pointed at me, before it lowered to the mossy ground.

"I don't understand why you just won't say hello to me."

"You can't be out here by yerself."

"I'm a big girl, Daryl. I think I can handle it," I sassed him.

"Jus' don't get yerself killed. Them people back there have enough grief to deal with righ' now," he jerked his chin in direction of our temporary camp.

We had lost so many people. Tara, Father Gabriel, Noah, and Maggie were just...gone. New wounds on top of old scars. Maggie left behind Glenn, and their son, Castiel. I looked at Daryl again. He had already started to move on, in search of more prey for our group. He was akin to a lioness. He provided for his pride. Similarly, in a fight with Daryl Dixon, it was to the death, just as lionesses do. He was--unapproachable, to say the least. He was also stubborn, thickheaded, hot tempered, and one fine piece of man. Settle down, Sammy! I shook my head to myself before walking after Daryl, being mindful not to make my footsteps noisy. A Daryl without spoils from his hunt is a grouchy one. He stopped abruptly in front of me, turning on his heel in one fluid motion to face me.

"Are you gon' tell me what the hell you want?" he asked, though it was more of a demand than a question.

"I dunno, I kinda just wanted to talk," I shrugged noncomittally.

"Well, just wanting to talk won't get those people back there fed."

He rolled his eyes at me, and walked away, each step never making a sound, never leaving a trail. It's as if he were never there. I leaned back against the mossy trunk of an old oak, feeling its age beneath my fingertips. The corner of my mouth curled into a smile.

"...D'you ever miss the little things?"

He stopped for a second time, turning to face me once more. I studied his face. His icy blue eyes held a cracked essence to them, like a dropped mirror. I admired his tenacity and bravery. He held his brokeness in better than most.

"Whatcha mean?" With his head cocked to the side and the long, floppy brown hair, he reminded me of a confused puppy. A very intimidating puppy, but a puppy nontheless. I giggled slightly.

"The little things in life. Like, waking up early on Saturday mornings just to watch all the old cartoons and eat a bunch of cereal, or going on dates with strangers, or roasting smores over a campfire," I said dreamily. A loud snort brought me out of my reverie.

"How 'm I suppose to miss something I never had?"

"The same way you can mourn a love that never came true," I shot back, tucking a curl behind my ear. The same way I'd be crushed if you actually decided to pair off and shack up with some woman. I inspected my hand, its color reminiscent to that of coffee and milk. My nails were jagged and frankly, scary looking. He stared at me intensely. What are you thinking about? Slowly, he shook his head at me before walking away again. I didn't call after him anymore. He had too much to do for too many people.

Later, I did as I always had done. I climbed to the highest point I could find in our temporary camp, it being the ramshackled roof of the small house we perched in. I laid back against the cracked shingles, gnawing on a piece of stale jerky. I stared up into a dark abyss. The night sky was filled with stars and constellations, things I couldn't enjoy before the outbreak. The city lights ruined the view. Heaven's lanterns swirled in untold patterns over the fabric of the night.

"What're you doin' up there?" I peered down at the ground to see Daryl walking out of the tree line, more squirrels clasped in his grasp.

"Living, Daryl. I'm living," I closed my eyes briefly, breathing in deeply before focusing on Daryl. He gave me that stare again, the same one from earlier.

"Ain't we all," he muttered, just loud enough for me to hear.

"The way I see it, we can be caged animals for the rest of our miserable, puny little lives; or we could get out and live."

"I hear ya." At that phrase, I sat up abruptly.

"I don't wanna be heard, I wanna be listened to."

Daryl looked at me strangely. It was a look I had become accustomed to. I smiled down at him, making my way off the roof. I walked past him, making my way towards the tree line. He hesitated, but then followed me. I could hear fire crackle and crickets chirp. The world around us was calm, for once. The trees held peace between them. I stopped, then looked him in the eyes, dark brown meeting icy, cracked blue.

"What I'm trying to say is... I don't wanna die. Not before I do everything I wanted. I want somebody to know that I was here. That I lived - and loved - here," I murmured softly, loud enough so that only he could hear.

My line of sight fell from his, and my cheeks burned, though there was no visible tell. If I could blush, I probably would have. Love works in strange way. It affects everybody differently. When Daryl Dixon falls in love, he doesn't realize it. Until it's kinda just...there. And boy, did that shock the hell out of me. I felt his arm coil around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. I could feel the muscles he had gained from the physical exertion of living in this world. I could feel his breath fanning out over my cheek. And then I could feel his lips pressed to mine, urgent and needy. I froze for a moment before kissing back with just as much fervor. I pulled away first, my chest heaving. My eyes fell to slits and my hands tangled in his hair. It was greasy, but we were all gross at this point. His mouth traveled down my neck, nipping and sucking at my skin. He bit down particularly hard and I let out a startled moan.

"Goddamn, Dixon," I panted. "Keep doing that and you'll get more than just kisses."

He smirked.