Norman Reedus Imagines

Thank You (Daryl)

CREDIT TO: http://onlydarylnormanfic.tumblr.com/

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Daryl could hear the sound his feet slamming against the cold, hard pavement as he ran through the lower halls of the factory dubbed, "The Sanctuary," by Negan and his men. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he suddenly ducked behind a wall, watching as silently as he could as he waited for two of Negan's men to pass by. The adrenaline pumped through him so hard he thought for sure he would be caught, but the men walked right past, joking to each other about something. Daryl waited for another second and looked down at the yellow tattered note in his hands.

"Go Now." Was all it read. Daryl used his rough fingers to rip the key off of the paper, that it had been taped to. He held it between his thumb and his forefingers, silently trying to talk himself into trying to escape, again. He took a long deep breath, closed his eyes, and focused on his resolve. He had to get free, he had to help Rick and the others break free, he had to. He takes one more long ragged breath before stepping slightly out to check the hallway for anyone who might catch him, it was clear.

He ran over to the door on the opposite side of the hallway that lead outside to the yard, the gate was only a few feet away, and he knew Dwight kept his bike with all the others right outside that door. He bravely turned the knob and walked out, his bare feet scratching against the gravel, he winced at how sore his feet felt, but tried to push the pain aside. There would be plenty of time later to feel this, right now he just needed to get out of here.

His eyes dart around in the dart to see only two men standing by the road leading into the encampment, talking and laughing with each other. They seemed to be imbibing something and appeared to be having a grand old time on guard duty. Easy. Daryl thought to himself. He walked over to the spot in the yard where all the motorcycles were parked, they had seemed to have found (or taken) quite a few. Daryl's eyes squinted in the dark, trying to find his, finally his hand traced up and down the cold, metal handle bars of the one he called home. He smiled a little, the first time since he had been thrown into this hell hole. He quietly kicked up the kickstand with his toes and began to walk the bike along the shadows of the factory walls, slowly tip toing closer to the gate.

"Hey." He heard and his heart stopped, it was a soft voice, a familiar voice.

Daryl slowly turned to the wall to his right, which had crates and crates of supplies stacked up haphazardly up it. Daryl sees a man in the dark, hiding behind the crates, he can make out a stocking cap, long, hair, and a beard. As he peers closer he realizes it is that man Jesus him and Rick had run into weeks ago. He breathes a sigh of relief as the man in front of him smirks and hops out from behind the wooden boxes.

"Jesus?" What are you doin here?" Daryl asked with a little anger in his voice, he didn't want anyone he knew to be stuck here.

Jesus playfully saunters up to him, his long black leather coat bouncing along with him as he strides over. Jesus smiles as he reached Daryl and puts his hand on Daryl's arm.

"I snuck in. Wanted to view the inside of this operation for myself." Jesus smirked at his own courage and Daryl scoffed.

"You shouldn't be here." Daryl says in a low voice, glancing again to the two men by the gate.