Daryl Dixon x Reader

Broken

"Well, see you guys later." Larry laughs taking a final sip from his almost empty bottle. Everyone had fallen asleep long ago, leaving Joe, Larry and Daryl.

"Don't make too much noise." Joe warns, eyes peering through his grey fringe; a gut wrenching smile on his face. "Don't want the damn dead wanting in on the fun."

"I ain't gonna be making any noise, she however..." Larry laughs. "Can't make the same promise from her, I'm gonna make her squeal like one of them piglets."

"No you ain't." Joe says in a calm voice. "You keep your damn bitch quiet, you hear me? I ain't letting her bring a fuck load of those corpses to us. She makes too much noise, you give her a good few slaps around the head. That should shut her up." 

"You don't damn touch her like that!" Daryl shouts from across the room to Larry, eyes wide and menacing.

"What was that hick?!" Larry sneers, marching towards Daryl. "You think you can talk to me or Joe like that?! How dare you tell me how to treat my slut? I saved her, therefore I own and can do whatever I want to her. I claimed her. I'd say you have a damn crush on my girl, oh, come on Joe let me teach him a lesson."

"Daryl, Larry here claimed her, that means we don't have any say on how she's handled." Joe informs Daryl in a patronising tone.

'handled?! She ain't no damn dog!' Daryl thinks to himself.

"You don't treat a woman like that!" Daryl screams helplessly "You don't hit her and you sure as hell don't rape her! It's fuckin' sick!" 

"Rape?!" Larry laughs, running his hands through his hair. "The poor girl's gagging for it. I'm doing her a favor."

Daryl jumps up, fists clenched.

"Now now boys, don't make me teach you both a lesson. I've been wanting to vent out my stress for a while now, don't make me use you as punch bags. Larry go see to her and, Daryl, sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up." 

"Sure boss, no need to get threatening now." Larry smirks.

With that, Larry turns around and heads back to the room you are being held in throwing Daryl one last smug glare. Daryl knows when he has been beaten.

"Look, Daryl, you're new here," Joe starts when Larry is out of ear shot "I understand you need time to get used to the way things work around here but you sure as hell ain't making a very good impression. I like you, I do, but that temper of yours," Joe shakes his head. "it's gonna get you killed." He sighs, closing his eyes and placing his finger on his temple, rubbing in circular motions. "Get some sleep, tomorrow we pack up camp and go hunting." 

"There ain't no deer or squirrels here." 

"Good job it isn't squirrels or deer we're hunting then. It's a man we're after. Killed one of our men a few days ago. I believe the old saying is 'an eye for an eye.' Now get some sleep."

Joe falls asleep not long after his and Daryl's talk. As the snoring of the other men bombard Daryl's ears he curls around himself battling the cold chill the building has to offer. Silent tears fall from Daryl's eyes as he rolls over to  face the wall. He gulps the air like a fish out of water to try and calm himself down. All the while your sobs and pleas for Larry to stop quietly echo in the opposite room. " 'm sorry (f/n), 'm so sorry..." He whispers.

Larry's sweat coated body clings to yours. Tears slowly cascade down your cheeks getting soaked up quickly by the stain covered mattress. You wiggle away from Larry, pulling your chains as far as they would let you. Near the end of the mattress you spot Larry's pants. 'keys!' You think to yourself, a spark of hope igniting in you. Using your feet you stretch and drag the tattered piece of clothing towards you. You then contort your body so that you can search the pockets. Nothing.