cigarette smoke (daryl dixon stories)

Inside Jokes

It had started as a joke.

On a run some time ago the rain had caught you all by surprise. You all clambered into various cars and began the trek back home–only you and Daryl did not clamber into a car. Instead you both had been subjected to two hours of frigid and pelting rain.

He had felt guilty, you knew. Even more so when the storm was growing too dangerous for even the cars to travel through and you pulled over to a house a ways back from the road. It was an old looking building, but far from decrepit. Once Rick had cleared the place of the two walkers you assumed were the previous owners, the place was actually very nice.

It took you a while to notice that though, because the cold was beginning to bite into your bones.

"I'm gonna g-go look for some clean clothes." You stammered, telling Rick and reaching for Daryl's hand to bring him upstairs with you.

"Alright. I think we'll hold up here for the night. That weather's no good for traveling in." Rick said. You agreed, and were grateful to be out of the cold.

But the bedrooms brought disappointment. The walkers, evidently, had not been the owners. Or if they had been, they had gotten rid of their belongings some time ago. While the closets were still full of towels and blankets, every single piece of clothing seemed to have been either taken by other survivors or taken with the owners when they left the house. You were out of luck.

You felt Daryl's fingers run up your arms, his warm touch thawing you slightly. But when his fingers left your skin you found yourself just craving him more, "I'll go out and find ya somethin'" he said, moving to head back down the stairs. You saw yourself reaching out to grab his wrist before he could leave.

"You can't go back out there," you said, though in truth you were wondering how you were going to get any sleep in dripping wet clothes, "It's f-freezing." you stammered, only emphasizing your point.

Daryl took a step towards you, reaching to tuck a strand of your damp hair behind your ear, "You're freezin' too." he said, as though that cleared everything up, "Ain't gonna let ya spend the night gettin' sick cause yer stubborn ass didn't wanna get in a car," he sighed, bringing a hand to the back of your head and drawing you into his chest. His other hand sneaking around your back so you were flush against him, "I can't even get ya warm cause I'm freezin' too," he laughed, "Bad idea, bringing the bike."

"It wasn't your fault," you muttered, closing your eyes and breathing in the scent of rain and smoke that made up Daryl, "You can't control the rain."

"Nah, I can't," he pressed his lips to your temple and set off down the stairs. The look in his eyes told you there was no preventing him from going back outside. If he thought you were stubborn, you thought perhaps there was not a word strong enough to describe Daryl. "But I ain't lettin' you stay cold."

He had returned only an hour or so later. Rick had been reluctant to let Daryl go but knew ultimately that once he got an idea in his head there was no stopping him. When he promised to bring back food for the night Rick finally relented.

In his absence you had stripped yourself of the soaked clothes and put together a mash of your friends' various donated items. Michonne had an extra shirt in the trunk of the car, "It's pretty thin," she warned, handing over the white ribbed tank, "I wish I had something more."
"It's no problem," you smiled, grateful for anything to wear that was not dripping cold water, "Daryl should be back soon."

Maggie had given you her cardigan which you wrapped yourself in like a blanket. Glenn had a pair of extra socks in his pack. Overall the mash of clothes worked rather well, you were just hoping Daryl had managed to find something to replace the jeans that stuck to your skin. Something lined with fleece, something warm. What you wouldn't give for a pair of plush pajamas.