The Undead's Nightmare (Daryl Dixon)

Chapter 8: Where I Belong

****I changed Sawyer's name to Shaw and his new actor is Cam Gigandet because I am using that name and actor for another story I'm writing.****

~Rebel's POV~

"Rebel, wake up. There's a new group 'bout three miles west."

Maggie was shaking my arm and the fluorescent lights of the metro station.

I hadn't been 'assigned' another car by Daryl, so I was forced to sleep on the ridged tracks outside of the entrance.

I sighed and sat up in the scratchy, brown sleeping bag. My back was stiff and my tail bone felt sore, result of sleeping on the tracks.

It had been three weeks since the night on the wall and I hadn't seen Shaw since. 

Sure, he left little signs to show me that he was still alive, but other than that, I had no indication of where he was.

I knew that he was watching over me when I was on wall duty and he was the reason I never had any walkers come within shooting distance of the camp, because he killed them all.

I sat absorbed in my thoughts until a looming shadow blocked my view.

"Ye' ready?" Daryl asked me, crossing his arms over his chest.

I looked up at him, daring to meet his stare. 

"You're going too?" I smirked, he couldn't avoid me now.

Daryl nodded, "Bigger group, Glenn 's goin' an' so'm I." 

I sighed and shoved my boots on, picking up my bow and arrows, opting to leave the sword here this time.

I stood up and cracked my back, hearing the satisfying pops of the bones moving into place.

"Let's go." 

As soon as we climbed the stairs, Glenn joined us, wedging himself in-between Daryl and I.

I mentally thanked him, because his actions eased the thick tension around me and Daryl.

Glenn was carrying his small Colt 45 Pistol that looked ridiculous next to the larger, more agile stringed weapons.

"Ye' gon' take out a group with jus' that?" Daryl snickered.

"Can you even hit a squirrel with that?" I said, shoving him lightly.

Glenn huffed stomped ahead of us, leaving Daryl and me to walk together.

An awkward silence settled over us and I started to toy with the feathers that I had strung on my bow.

Daryl looked over at my newly covered sheath and bow, amusement glazing his eyes.

"Ye' do tha' yerself?" he asked me quietly.

It took me awhile to figure out he was talking to me, but when I did, I nodded.

"How was it ou' there?" he tried to continue the conversation.

I shrugged and continued fiddling with the raven feathers.

"Got pretty cold out. Ye' bring a blanket or summin'?" he asked.

I nodded my head and pulled an arrow out, stringing it into my bow for caution.

"Dammit, Rebel!" Daryl yelled, attracting unknown attention.

"Shut your mouth!" Glenn hissed from ahead of us, pointing an accusing finger towards Daryl and shooting me a glare.

I held in a laugh, my face turning a shade of red because of it.

Out of the corner of my vision, I saw Daryl glaring at me, but he didn't say anything more.