Daryl Dixon Imagines

Silence

By imaginestoinfinity on Tumblr

I wasn’t myself anymore. Not after that night.

I was numb. But not completely. There was a constant heaviness in me that I couldn’t shake for months. I hated having to wake up, and slept way too much. But that wasn’t the worst of it.  I started worrying too much, about the smallest things. I didn’t want to leave the house. It didn’t help that the Saviors just popped in and killed whenever they pleased.

When I heard Daryl escaped from their compound, it gave me hope. Just a little, but it made me feel so much better. I went with the group to the Hilltop and stayed there. Something about Daryl made me feel safe. But when the Saviors arrived out of nowhere once more, it was like I regressed all the way back to that night.

I had fallen into the same routine I was just starting to break out of before: sleep, eat, worry. That was all I could do. I would stay in Jesus’ trailer all day if I could, and avoided contact with  everyone.

Except Daryl.

Not to say that nobody else tried to help me. They all did. But Daryl was the only one that could get through to me. He would get me to at least sit on the steps or roof of the trailer, feel the sun on my skin and the breeze through my hair. He would tell me stories of when he was younger, particularly about a poison oak incident he had which always got a chuckle out of me.

He made me laugh again.

On my really bad days, when I didn’t even want to get out of bed, he would sit on the edge of the bed and rub my back or run his fingers through my hair. Sometimes he would even read to me.

Today was one of those days. War with the Saviors was inevitable and was becoming apparent it would be happening soon. I couldn’t stop thinking about everything that could go wrong, and almost every though ended with a flashback to that night. I couldn’t bare to see another one of my friends- my family- bashed in the head again.

I laid in bed, blanket up to my nose and facing the wall. I just wanted to sleep everything away.

I heard the door creak open and footsteps walk towards me. I felt the mattress dip at the edge, indicating someone had sat down there.

“It’s 3pm” a husky voice said softly. Daryl.

“You gonna get up today?” he asked. I shrugged my shoulders under the blanket.

“Alright. I got you somethin’” he said. I turned my head slightly and saw something in his hands, prompting me to sit up.

“The were plantin’ some melons. This one seemed ripe enough, thought you’d like somethin’ sweet” he said, handing me half of the fruit. I took the offering and bit into it, the sweetness sparking my taste buds instantly. I couldn’t remember the last time I had fresh fruit… or the last time I ate.

“How is it?” he asked. I smacked my lips and nodded.

“Good. You haven’t eaten in a while” he said. I nodded again. I finished and handed him the rind before laying back down. He placed it on the nearby table and sat back down, closer this time, and wrapped an arm around me.

“Not gonna get up today?” he asked. I shook my head no.

“Wanna talk about anything?” he asked. I hesitantly shook my head no again. He stared at me in silence for a while, studying my face. He knew what I was thinking about. He always did.

“That’s fine” he said, bringing me closer to him, resting his nose on my hair. “You talk when you’re ready”. We sat in silence for a while.

“Daryl” I whispered, breaking the silence. His head shifted slightly to look at me. I gently took his hand, tracing over his scratched up, calloused knuckles.

“Hmm?” he breathed. I looked up at him from the corner of my eye before settling my head in the crook of his neck.

“Thanks”