The Odd One Out ~A Daryl Dixon X Reader~

Chapter 53

HERES YOUR WEEKEND UPDATE LOVE ME SENPAI.
THIS IS A REALLY BAD IDEA BECAUSE WHEN I GET BAK ON THE INTERWEBS ILL BE SWAMPED WITH NOTIFICATIONS. CRAP.
Anyways, yeah, here ya go. CANNOT wait for the episode on Sunday! I can... Or not. Idk. Enough of my ranting. Love you! I'll cry with you all on Monday!

When I woke up, snuggled into Daryl's arms safely, him watching me through half closed eyes, I didn't feel the warmth I usually did. In fact, I didn't feel anything. The tears that didn't seem to be able to stop the night before were long dried. The overwhelming need to take a shower and scream was gone, and I felt like a husk. I didn't feel at all.

"Good morning." Daryl whispered gently, sitting up. I gave him a grunt in return. I didn't feel like saying anything. I didn't even feel like getting up, but I didn't feel like sleeping either.

He watched me, his brow knit in confusion before pulling him close to him, resting my back against his chest. The small act that usually would have made me zing with warmth and happiness didn't effect me at all.

My hair was a tangled mess from sobbing for hours and a very sleepless night. Daryl began to gently comb out my knotty hair. "Don't think you'd like a rat's nest." He excused himself as tugged on a knot. I didn't even grunt.

We sat there for a while, him just holding me close, not saying anything. Then food came. He brought it over to me. "Hey, you should keep your strength up and eat." I stared at the food. It did look good, and I felt a bit weak from hunger, but didn't actually feel hungry.

When I didn't respond he grabbed the food and held it up to my lips. "Eat." He said firmly. I opened my mouth and took a bite, slowly chewing it up and swallowing it. It felt like swallowing sandpaper. He made me eat the rest of the food then made me drink the water.

I did feel less dizzy and faint, but didn't feel any better. He held me again. Then a cup of water, washrag, and a bar of soap came. He wet the washrag and began to wash my arms. He scrubbed my skin gently but firmly, as if he knew how much my soul was screaming for me to get clean.

He washed my face and neck. Then he watched me silently for a moment. "Wanna wash your tummy yourself?" I watched him, but didn't reply. I didn't feel like moving. Breathing and blinking was a task in itself. "Want me to do it?" I must blinked a little slower than usual, because he took it as a yes. He very modestly cleaned my stomach and back, then placed the stuff in a corner.

He held me again, as if letting me go for too long would let me shatter. As if he was a superglue and holding me close was going to prevent me from breaking any more, maybe even fixing me.

Eventually Daryl decided that I should sleep. He swaddled me in the soft sweaters and turned off the light. I laid there for a long time, staring at the wall as his chest expanded and deflated against my back. When he finally I was asleep he began to speak.

"I'm sorry I can't help." He whispered. "But I'm going to try. It is killing me to see you like this. (Y/n), I need you. All of you, the happy, snarky girl that drives me crazy. I need you, especially for you to be okay. I'm--" His voice broke. "I'm sorry I'm useless, but I'm going to try anyways, because you are going to be okay."

His broken, hoping words stirred some sort of fire in me and the tears began to flow again. "Daryl." I hiccuped. He hugged me close and I hugged back, crying softly. Everything was going to be okay, I realized. And now was my turn to do something.

We were going to get out.