Daryl Dixon Imagines

Follow The Bond

By thepokyone on Tumblr

It was realized after the outbreak that those whose soulmates were turned no longer felt them. It was a good thing, at least in your opinion, as it forced people to find their own strength instead of relying on a pointless bond. You hadn’t met your soulmate before the outbreak, and you certainly didn’t have the luxury of looking for whoever-it-was now.

Finding your soulmate was the least of your worries - staying alive was far higher on your list of priorities. In fact, staying alive was one of your only priorities, followed by the simple rule of don’t get attached. Being attached opened the door to stupid decisions, and being stupid would get you killed, and that wasn’t an option. You were not about to be taken down by the flesh-eating, undead bastards whose former identity you wouldn’t have known from Adam. You just weren’t.

Your fingers tapped on the chair as you came to the realization that right now, the walkers were the least of your worries. Humans, in this post-apocalyptic nightmare, were much more dangerous. Humanity, rather than the walkers, had become the true monsters. You say that because you were currently tied to a chair, (mostly) unharmed other than the goose egg on your head and hoping you would stay that way.

You were never that lucky.

Knife carved into flesh and caused you to give a groan, hissing sharply through your teeth as pain shot up your arm. “Where’s the rest of your group?” The man demanded.

“Go to hell!” You spat. He backhanded you across the face, nearly causing the chair to crash to the floor. “It’s just me!”

“Bullshit,” He replied, pressing the tip of his knife under your chin. “Nobody survives alone out there. Now tell me where the rest of your group is, or this knife goes through your skull.”

“Would you be more pissed off if I sent you on a wild goose chase, since you really don’t seem to believe that I’m actually alone, or would you rather just kill me and save the trouble?” You asked sarcastically.

“Listen carefully, bitch, because I’m only going to ask this one more time,” He said slowly, pressing the knife harder into your skin. You felt it draw blood, and fought to keep the expression of pain off your face. “Where is the rest of your group?”

You refused to back down. “Are you stupid, or just deaf? I don’t have one!”

The knife was plunged into your shoulder, causing you to cry out in agony. “You’re the stupid one.” He kept talking, getting in your face, but your attention was distracted by the silent opening of the door. A man crept in, crossbow in hand, and you didn’t start listening again until the man gave an angry roar and hit you so hard that you and the chair you were tied to crashed to the floor.

You spat out the blood in your mouth, letting out a breathy laugh. “You’re dead.”

“Do you not understand how this works?” He spat, kicking you. “You’re the prisoner, and I’m the one in charge.”

“You should listen to her,” Crossbow man said, his weapon pointed straight at your captor’s head. “Cause she’s right.”

Your captor moved, apparently intent on grabbing you to use as leverage against crossbow-dude, but said bow-wielder pulled the trigger and your torturer fell over, dead. Unfortunately, he landed on top of you, causing you to give a squawk of surprise and pain.

The weight was lifted a few moments later, and your eyes met the crossbow man’s blue ones. “Sit still while I cut these ropes,” He said gruffly.

“Well, I can’t exactly go anywhere,” You quipped as his knife cut the ropes binding your hands. “How’d you find me?”

“Followed the bond,” He muttered, now slicing through the ropes that held your ankles. Your hand had found its way to the wound in your shoulder, and you clutched it tightly to attempt to stop the bleeding. “I have to get you outta here. I can’t help you from in here.”

“What’s your name?” You asked, allowing him to help you stagger to your feet. His hands against your skin sent tingles through you, a characteristic of the soulmate bond he had referred to earlier.

“Daryl Dixon.” Crossbow man, whose name you now knew, tossed his weapon across his back. “Can you walk?”

“I think so,” You said, limping slightly as you followed after him. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Nice to meet ya,” Daryl said, glancing back at where you were trailing behind him. He stopped, waiting for you to catch up before he scooped you up despite your protests. “We ain’t gettin’ nowhere with the speed you’re goin’. I gotta get you back to my group so we can stop the bleedin’, so quit your complainin’.”

“Fine,” You said, prompting him to smirk. “Daryl?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for saving me. Soulmate or not.”

Daryl offered you the first smile you had seen from him, his eyes warming. “Of course.”