Angel (Daryl Dixion x Reader)

~48~ (Lemon)

Hurt. God your whole left side hurt like- like you'd just fell down the stairs. Like you'd just been shot at by a tank.. Your body lurches up at the memories that flood your brain and you immediately regret sitting up that fast. Your teeth grit, "Ahhhhh- Why am I not fuckin' dead-" you growl in pain to yourself between clenched teeth. Your own voice echoing off the cement walls around you. Coughing a bit from the smoke hanging in the dim air around you. You proceed to check yourself over, nothing was broken. That was a fucking miracle- wait. How long had you been out. Why didn't you feel feverish? Your hands feel at your own forehead and cheeks in a panicked confusion, as if that would help you tell. Your eyes widen as the throbbing in your body begins to dissipate way too quickly. "Am I dead?" You ask yourself in a stunned, flat tone. Again the walls didn't answer you. This was not what you'd expected death would be like. Were you a walker? No. No, you just spoke to yourself. Like a crazy person perhaps, but you spoke all the same. And you'd hurt from the fall. Walkers didn't talk, or feel pain- didn't feel anything because they were dead. You felt.. very fucking confused, worried, and maybe even a little afraid? You shake your head from utter confusion, picking up your rifle and slowly standing up, using your rifle to help yourself up. You stand at the metal door leading out of the tower for a second processing before you hear walkers outside. A roaring fire and nothing else... No people. No signs of life at all. It sounded like the prison fell hard and fell fast. So with a wave of panic, you sling your rifle over your shoulder, letting it hang on your back before you pulled out your knife. Slowly, you creaked the door open a little.

You'd expected blinding sunlight, but instead were greeted with the golden morning light, thick from smoke hanging heavy in the air. Fuck you'd been out for hours! Gritting your teeth, you stalked out, into the court yard. The whole right side of the prison was burning from the inside. The flames roaring within and thick black smoke tolling out of the shattered windows in waves. Your stomach twists as you use the still smoldering tank to hide from the walkers roaming all around. One of them spots you immediately as it stands from a body, and you ready yourself, back against the tank. It gets about two steps from you, sniffing the air and then suddenly changed direction. Cutting to the left to go for another half torn apart body to tear into. Your brows furrow in confusion, as you stand there for a second, baffled. Okay? That was- odd.. maybe it was all the smoke in the air. Maybe it hindered your scent, so you huff out a light breathe. You'd fixate on that later. The body that the walkers were tearing into shifts, trying to get up. When it stands, the green and black arrow that was half embedded in its chest catches your full attention.

Your heart clenches and you instinctively run at it. Logic be fucking damned, before you stab it in the forehead. Grabbing your husband's arrow as the body falls back to the ground. Your eyes taking it in as you see the walkers in your peripheral heading for you now that you'd drawn direct attention to yourself. It was only three of them, and again you prepared yourself to kill them. They stumble at you, and you step towards them, prepared to fight out of there in an instant. But then they simply turn away from you. Stumbling right past you, as if you were one of them... And now you're seriously wondering if you had in fact died. If you were now a walker. You raise your hands in confusion, knowing they saw you move. Knowing that the smoke couldn't have hidden that fact, even if it was making it hard for them to smell you. One had was holding your military knife, and the other your husband's bolt. You blink. Walkers can't pick shit up- well scratch that. They used to be able to. In the very first few weeks of the fall, but you'd only seen that once and it was a rare. You'd seen it twice while in Atlanta, on a run with Glenn. Very shortly after the city had truly become the walkers play ground. You turn and look at the freshly turned, freshly dead walker on the ground. You'd definitely just killed it. Your mind races.

What the fuck was going on.. Were you in hell? Is that what this was? Your eyes peripheral catch sight of walkers clustered around the cage where Hershel and Beth had hidden when the alarms had first went off. Right before Lori and T had died. There was a dark headed girl sitting there that makes your spinning thoughts come to a screeching halt. She was hugging her knees to her chest as she stares at you in complete and utter confusion. Your gaze narrows on her. You didn't know or even recognize her. She had to be a survivor of the Governors people. You point your walker bloodied knife blade at her. A silent, burning rage rippling from your threatening stance. Your fault- You fuckers brought this upon us. Her head rears back slightly at the silent threat. As if you'd pointed your blade right in her face before she lowers her gaze from you. Unable to withstand the gaze you held on her. You then knew you must be alive. Because she could see you. Saw the silent death threat you marked her with. If you weren't hell bent on finding your family, on finding your husband. You'd of killed all the walkers over there just to get to her, and then you'd of gutted her living. But you didn't have time for that shit.