TWD: Just Another Reason to Hold On (Daryl x Reader)

~15~

     You hit the brakes. The car skidded to a stop. You climb out of the car to see what you hit. Just another walker. It was extremely foggy. The mist was thick. Your vision was poor. It would be a risk to continue on. You had two options. Either sleep until it clears or continue down the path. As you circle around the car thinking about your next move, you notice something. The motorcycle trail, the same one you've been using to track Daryl. It stops here.

     "Daryl, I know you're out there," you have deja-vu. It reminded you of the day he left. It' been a week since then.
     A rustle came up from behind you. You turn around swiftly and realize it was a walker. You spring back in to the car and grab your axe, ready to kill it. Before you do, you stop yourself in shock. The eyes. Although it was hard to see past the fog, it stood out to you. Ice cold blue. Just like someone you know. It launches forward, knocking you on to the ground and you collide with rock hard dirt.
     "It can't be," you whisper. You hold back the tears and stay strong. Now is not the time to be a crybaby.
     The battle began. You spring to your feet, pushing the walker off you. It grabs your leg, ready to bite. You shake your leg, but the grip was too strong. Using all the strength in your hands, you keep the walker's face from biting your leg. You search around desperately for your axe. As you feel around for it, another walker pounces on you from the mist. You weren't going to stop, that's for sure. The fire still burning bright. You grab the head and smash it against the other walker. As they try to revive themselves from the impact, you take the time to look for your beloved axe. You're not going to leave it behind. For you, it wasn't an option.
     The walkers were slowly getting back on their feet. Quickly, you take them out and crush them with your boot. You've finished them. They're not coming back anymore. You released them from their suffering.
     "They sure crack under pressure!" a voice pops up out of no where. "Daryl, eh? Mr. Dixon? He the one you're looking for?"
     You glance around to look for the source of the voice, but fail because of the mist. You became more alert, listening to every sound. Crickets chirping, walkers moaning, grass swaying against the slight wind. Everything seemed like every other night.
     "Don't try looking for us," it says. "You won't find what you're looking for"
     You feel the ground and finally come in contact with cold metal. This is what you've been looking for. Your metal. Your axe.
     "An axe? What shall I name you? Axegirl? Lumbergirl?" You finally spot him. A man. "Marcus. You know him?"
     Just before you were going to answer, the man falls on to his knees. It was so sudden, you just stand there in awe. It was an arrow. An arrow shot and aimed at his head. He won't become a walker, not when his brain is splattered all over the soft grass. A certain man was responsible for his death. You knew who.
     "Dixon," you say and laugh. Not because of the scene he created, but because of the way your body reacted. It tingled, excited.
     It's been a while since you've last his last name. It feels sweet. Then, you see him. The reason to your journey. The reason to why you're here. The reason to why you're still alive.
     Please come back.