Angel (Daryl Dixion x Reader)

~79~

You didn't expect to come too again, but your body had other plans. When you did begrudgingly come too again, you found yourself staring up at the ceiling of that half falling apart cabin. Your vision already blurry as the shadows from the fire still burning in that pan dance on the ceiling. Your eyes squeeze shut from the pain in your torso that threatens to take your already tightened breath. Making your hand slide back up your side to hold that gushing hole now there. You knew you were done. That you were going to die here, alone. There was absolutely no fucking way you were going to survive this. Not when your body was already heavy as fuck. Not when your chest felt like an elephant was standing on it. Not with a liver lac on the right and probably a kidney destroyed on the left. Muffled boot steps sound and you half expected Walker Tripp coming to eat you alive. A fitting way for you to go. "..Get up, Major." A bone chilling, Texan drawl orders. His voice fading in over the ringing in your ears. Sounding far away only to grow close as if he was directly beside you. Your head slowly nods to the side. Finding a pair of shiny black dress shoes covered by freshly ironed blue pants. Your brows furrow in immediate confusion as your head falls back lazily to follow the pair of legs up. Only for your heart to stutter at the sight of the heavily decorated, immaculate Army issued dress coat. Your vision fuzzing on the perfectly styled back, fire engine red hair beneath the matching cap. "Major-" he growls as he kneels down beside you and pats the side of your face. Forcing your eyes to focus back in on his worry stricken blue eyes, "Wake up! You have to get up!" He tells you in pure panic. "..Red?" You breathe in utter disbelief. A sly grin cracks across that worried face. "Who else numb nuts?" He asks with genuine worry despite grinning down at you. "You're- no.. no, you're-" you try to get out, only for him to cut you off. "Dead. Yeah, don't remind me. Now get your lazy ass up before-" he starts only to cut himself off when something grabs your leg.

Then your being drug backwards as Aberham lunges forward over you. Tackling Jayden right back down to the ground and pinning him rather easily. "Get her out of here!" Aberham roars over his shoulder as he holds Jayden's reanimated body down. "No fuckin' shit ginger!" Another all too familiar, southern drawl growls as you're yanked up. This one was like yours though. From Georgia. Your eyes slide over to find none other than Merle fucking Dixon half dragging you towards the second living room door way. Making your teeth grit as he slings your arm over his head and hauls your body to his side. "..Merle!?" You lightly squeak in pure disbelief. Realizing you very well may be losing your mind or that you were just that much in the grave already. His blue-green eyes glance over and down at you. A smug smile playing on his lips at your baffled shock. "Hey-Hey, lil sis!" He greets as he practically drags you down the hall way. "..Oh, Fuck-" you breathe as your head spins and your knees give out. The shock that corses through you wasn't helping your blood loss. Making your left hand slap a bright red, bloody hand print on the wall of the hall. Only to smear it down the painted wood when he doesn't let you stop. "Oh-ho, no ya don't! Hey- stay with me girl! Merle's gotchya, just stay up!" Merle demands as he hoists your weight up completely. Realizing your legs weren't going to do what you asked of them. Doing a damn good job of playing off how worried he was by disguising it as smug, arrogant amusement. Like this was a completely normal thing to be happening. Still, he yanks you farther into him and practically carry's you down the hall. Headed straight for the wired up front door. "I can't- get through that." You admit in exhaustion. "Yes, ya can." Merle argues seriously as you grow closer. "I ain't- a ghost, like you." You breathe. He laughs a bit, "Ya don't need to be-" he starts only to pause and whip his gaze toward the steps. "Got ourselves another biter comin' up the damn stairs!" He announces in aggravation. Your gaze swings to the basement steps and sure enough, Tripps body was coming up the stairs. A rage filled yell sounds, and out of thin fucking air, you watch as a boot appears. Meeting Trips chest with a curl thud and sending him tumbling back down the dark steps. The door immediately slams and a body presses into it.