Daryl Dixon - Norman Reedus Imagines/Smut

Motorcycle Chick - D.D Tragedy

The sound of the motorcycle is roaring through the streets but it isn't Daryl's. Rick and Daryl exit the shop they were going through just in time to see a motorcycle disappear around the corner. “a survivor?” Rick questions and Daryl shrugs, it could be an enemy for all they know. They abandon their search and follow the motorcycle and find it had stopped just around the corner and the rider was now busily prying open a shop door with a crow bar. After a moment, the door clicked open and the rider stepped back to take off their helmet to reveal a woman. She seemed to be very anxious as she tore through the store obviously searching for something in particular. Daryl and Rick watched her as she picked up a small bottle and turned it over to ready the label intently, “Hello” Rick calls out and you freeze, the small bottle clutched in your hand is the m valuable thing in the world right now and you're not about to let two idiots take it. “We mean you no harm, we just want to see if your alright” the man with the beard says, his guns still holstered, “The world has gone to hell and you're asking if I'm alright?” you say sarcastically as you get back on your feet and tuck the bottle into your zippered leather jacket pocket where it will be safe. “What have you got there?” the man with the crossbow asks harshly and you pull out your gun, nothing is stopping you getting this medicine back to your little brother. “Get out of my way, I don't want to hurt you but I've not got much time to get this back to someone I care about” you day firmly inching around the men in the doorway, “Where are they? We have a group and a man who knows medicine, he's a vet but it's the best we've got. We can help you” the bearded man says helpfully and you pause a second trying to figure out if they're being genuine, you've got no choice if this medicine doesn't work and they DO have someone who knows about illness and surgery that can be applied to humans. “It's my brother, he's not far but he does need this medicine. If you try anything I swear I'll shoot you, I've lost too much” you promise and you head out the door and stand by your motorcycle. You don't even know how the damn thing runs anymore, it's an assortment of parts all wired and welded together kind of like how you're holding yourself together right now. The two men meet you outside, “We've got a car, Daryl will wait with you here while I get it. I'm Rick by the way” the bearded man says, you say your own name but your voice it too high pitched and nervous to not make things awkward, rick gives you a small smile before he sprints off down the street. “That's a nice bike, Harley Davidson right? How the hell did you get an Kawasaki fuel line to fit on it?” Daryl asks bending down to admire your bike, “I'm very determined” you say with a note of pride in your voice which Daryl picks up, “I've got a Harley myself but it's needing new parts I can't find. Maybe you should come take a look, could use a new set of eyes” he says and you smile a little. Your little brother hates mechanical talk so you have no-one to talk to about it even though it was your life, your job and your one slice of happiness in this world that linked you to your father who you had adored before his untimely death after a short battle with cancer before the apocalypse. The car screeches around the corner and Daryl gets in, you get on your bike and start it up, the familiar vibration shaking your body as the engine roars to life. You lead them down the next four streets and then take a harsh left, the van where your brother is waiting for your return is just ahead. You pull over and shut off your motorcycle, racing to wrench open the van doors but it is too late, your little brother is not himself anymore. Your agonising cry echoes around the streets as your little brother crawls from the van and snaps his jaws at you, hungering to rip your flesh from your body to devour it. You call his name again and again but you know it's pointless, the bottle of medicine clinks in your pocket and you feel like you've failed him. All those hours of nursing him through the fevers, cutting off his arm at the elbow after he'd been bitten and using your only spare clothes as bandages so he wouldn't bleed out and it's all been for nothing. The antibiotics didn't bring down the fever and this had been your last ditch attempt to make him well again, convinced that bottle of medicine in your pocket would be just what he needed. Rick and Daryl have their weapons raised, ready to do the deed if you can't but you raise your hand to stop them. He's your brother, he needs you to do this for him now. Your gun shakes in your hand as you aim, your finger twitches on the trigger and you take a deep breath as you stare into his eyes, trying to tell yourself it's not him anymore, just a monster wearing his face. You close your eyes and pull the trigger, the gunshot is much louder than you expect it to be and your brother falls backwards, dead for the second time in his short life. You cannot stop the tears now, they fall freely down your cheeks and soak your shirt under your jacket. Rick and Daryl are respectfully silent and you appreciate that from them. It dawns on you how you are all alone, put of everyone you'd lost your little brother would be the hardest death to cope with. “You shouldn't be on your own, not now. We have a place you can be, you can bury your brother there and you'll be safe” Rick says as he bends down beside you, speaking in your ear as you brush you little brother's soft hair off his face. He'd be six this year. The thought of a nice grave, a funeral and a home sounds so welcoming right now, all you can do is nod. Daryl had come back from the car with a sheet that he lies on the ground next to your brother and it takes a moment for you to realise what he intends to do with it. You help Daryl move his small body onto the sheet and you tenderly wrap him in it, this is his winding sheet and you hope it will suffice instead of a coffin. When he is wrapped nice and snug, Daryl picks him up and lays him down in the car on the back seat with a gentleness that you appreciate, “You get in the car, I can take your bike back for you” Daryl says as he offers you a hand so you can get up off the asphalt, you take it and feel the rough skin of his palm and you remember feeling the same roughness of your father's hands, worker's hands he had called them. You lean against Daryl as he takes you to the car and shuts the door behind you. Daryl gets on your motorcycle and starts it before Rick climbs in the driver seat and starts the car. For weeks you'd wished to find a group that would take you in and now you had found a group except your brother is dead in the back seat and you are in a state of shock. Rick doesn't push you to talk, he knows what it's like to lose someone special. You focus on Daryl as he rides ahead of you, your eyes trace over the angel wing design stitched onto his leather vest and you wonder if your little brother would find your father in heaven, of course he would - both of them were top shelf people. You're heartbroken but the sun is shining, the sky is free of clouds and the birds chirp merrily as you bury your brother surrounded by people you don't know but who want to support you in your grief. “I had to put my brother down too, if you need to talk about it, I'm usually around” Daryl says as he hands you a white flower that you recognise. You put it on the grave and stand up, this is the funeral he deserved. “Got time to talk right now?” you ask feeling all the emotions ready to explode from your body. “Always got time for a motorcycle chick” he says and you two walk towards the garage where you spend the day fixing your bikes and talking, letting all that pain flow out of your body until you feel an air of acceptance settle over your heart. Your brother would want you to move on from this pain and remember him at his best, laughing in the sunshine with his hair flying in the breeze and that's how you would remember him. Daryl's shy smile at you across the garage made you feel that you weren't alone in this struggle and you knew that one day, you'd be good friends or maybe even more.