Trespassing (Daryl Dixon x OC)

Blackbird Song

"Pack your things, leave somehow."

Daryl and I remained silent for a number of minutes. He stared intently at me while my gaze was fixated on my father. He just died and came back, and his only intention was to eat me. This was the virus, this was all real.

"Belle," Daryl called out. I shifted my eyes to meet his. "You okay?" he asked. 

"We need to leave," I said, ignoring his question. "We need to leave, it's not safe here. Daryl," I paused, staring at him almost desperately, "you're all I got." 

He slung his crossbow over his shoulder, walking over to me after. "I know," he said as he engulfed me in a hug. He pressed his lips to the top of my head before resting his chin on it. Wait...why would he do that? Is it, like, a support thing?

"Alright, listen to me, B," he said, breaking my racing thoughts and placing his hands on my shoulders holding me at arms-length and bending over slightly so he was face to face with me. "Pack a few things of clothes, bring as much food and water as you can, I'll go and get Merle and bring him back in twenty minutes. We'll all leave together. Can you do that for me?" 

I nodded, unable to find words. A small smile lit up his face, making all of this feel a little less terrible. He cupped my cheek with his hand. 

"Good. Twenty minutes." 

"Twenty minutes," I repeated. Daryl straightened and turned to leave. 

"Hey, Dixon," I called out as he reached the doorway. He turned his body slightly, mostly looking over his shoulder. "Stay safe. And remember," I pointed to my temple, "in the brain." He let out a small huff of a laugh with a smile as he looked down. As he looked back at me, my facial expressions continuing to soften, he tapped his own temple. 

"In the brain," he repeated.

I listened to the creak of the back door as it opened and shut. Taking one last sad look at my father, I sighed and turned to leave the room. I locked the door, closing it gently behind me as if to make sure everything that happened in that room stayed in that room.

I walked down the hall to my own bedroom, grabbing a not-too-big duffle bag for my clothes. I packed a few shirts, pairs of pants, socks, and underwear. I didn't know where we were going or how long we'd be stuck out of Georgia...if we got out. I walked over to my mirror, the edges of it littered with polaroids from Dad's old camera he gave me. A small smile brought itself to my lips as I studied the small moments captured in time.

There was the one of my dad and me on my thirteenth birthday when he'd given me the camera. One of Daryl's and I's feet in the clearing where we'd hang out every day. One of my dad and I at my eighth-grade graduation. A few more of Daryl and I out in the woods; some of me goofing off while we were out hunting together, some of Daryl taking pictures of me hunting with his crossbow. There were my senior prom pictures; the ones with my dad and, since I had broken up with Josh a month prior and had no date, I made Daryl take pictures with me. He was so annoyed that I made him, but I'll never forget how much fun we had while taking pictures together.

I took one out of the side of the mirror, on it showed Daryl "putting on" my corsage. It left a bittersweet feeling in my chest, looking at it; we were both laughing, not giving a care in the world. My eyes were down at the flowers on my wrist, but Daryl's...his were on me. And the look in his eyes, he just seemed so...so happy, carefree.