Daryl Dixon Imagines

Rescuer

By thewalkingdead-imagines on Tumblr

The wind was rustling through the trees, birds were chirping their songs while the sun shone softly through the forest canopy.
Idyllic.
Well actually, it was quite the opposite.
The rustling of the trees, the songs of the birds were in your pounding head nothing more than a terribly resounding orchestra, the sun streams felt like stitches in your eyes but you couldn’t close them.
Not here.
Sitting with your back against a tree, a dead walker next to you, that you had killed with the last strength you had left, your blood covered hands that were tightly clasping your knife that much, that it hurt, just like the rest of your bruises and wounds covered body.
Closing your eyes now, could mean death and you didn’t want to die, you really didn’t.
That was probably also the reason why you ended up right here.
You didn’t know how many days had gone by, but it had been probably quite a few.
A few since you had escaped that hell hole of a group, that was the main reason for your messed up body.
You didn’t even know how you got yourself into this shit, how you ended up with them, but you did.
You had been alone a whole while before you met them, had fought yourself through this world on your own but you had known that you are stronger in a group.
And next to that, you had hoped for people that could make life more about than just surviving.
But these people, they took surviving to a whole new level.
It’s not that you had been naive or anything, you had been warily knowing how all this could change people or what sides of them it made them show but even your wariness couldn’t beware you of the things that had happened.
After some time, it had begun.
Every time something you did, didn’t work out the way they liked they gave you what they felt you deserved and that was beating you until you laid whimpering on the ground.
You couldn’t defend yourself, not because you couldn’t fight, you could, but not a big bunch of men at once.
Who knows what else they would have done to you if you wouldn’t have taken your chance and escaped, killing two of them on your way out.
And now you sat here against that tree, not even being able to cry because of the shock that was still stuck in your bones and simply because you were dehydrated as hell.
But you were alive.

“You think I’m going back without stuff?”, you suddenly heard a male voice grumble not too far away from you.
You jolted slightly up, feeling the pain shooting through your body while you tried your very best to suppress the pain-filled groan that made its way up your throat.
It was none of the men from the camp you had escaped from, but who knew if this person wasn’t as bad as them.
Next, you heard another male voice, a younger one before you saw a walker stumbling towards you through the trees, its rotting mouth wrenching open while your grip around the knife got even stronger.
“Got it”, you heard the male voice from the beginning say again before you saw a bolt shooting through the walkers head, that fell lifeless to the ground.
The first danger, the walker was gone, but that guy would get that bolt back, and he would find you, regardless of if you would move now or not.
You felt your heart pounding relentlessly against your chest, your breath trying to increase while you tried everything to keep it calm.
You heard footsteps coming closer before you saw the man walking through the trees, a crossbow in his hands, grabbing the bolt to pull it out of the walkers head.
Maybe, maybe you had luck and he wouldn’t see you.
He turned around, his glance towards the ground while you watched his every step until his glance suddenly went up, goring through you.
“Holy hell”, he said while you felt your heart pounding even faster against your chest.
“What is it?”, the younger voice said before you saw him walking up to the man, his glance wandering into your direction.
You wanted to say something, tell them to just keep on walking, that you don’t have anything they could take and not hurt you but you couldn’t.
Your throat couldn’t be drier and all you got out of it was a helpless whimper, while you pressed yourself harder against the tree.
“We’re not gonna hurt you if you don’t try something against us”, the boy with the sheriff hat on his head said before he slowly walked towards you while you slowly nodded feeling your body still being a trembling mess.
The man with the crossbow kept eying you before also he walked closer to you.
“Maybe, you know, we can help you”, the boy said as he kneeled next to you while your grip around your knife was still strong.
“You just gotta get your hand off that knife first”, the man said while your glance went up to him.
You hesitated for a moment, they didn’t seem like they would want to hurt you, but after everything you’ve been through you didn’t know if you could simply trust that.
“Listen, we’re good people. Really”, the boy said before you swallowed and slowly loosened the grip on your knife but kept on watching every move they made, so that you could grab it in case something happened, even though you didn’t believe that you were strong enough to use it anyway.
“You’re alone out here, huh?”, the man said while he eyed you again, the multiple wounds and bruises that spread over your whole body.
You slowly nodded.
“Escaped”, you tried to get out of your dry throat, somehow trying to explain.
You saw the man grab a water bottle out of his backpack, opening it and holding it in front of you.
Now you were the one eying him.
That was probably the somehow kindest thing someone had done in ages for you.
You slowly grabbed the bottle got it to your mouth and took a sip, feeling the water bring back some life into your dehydrated and weak body.
“I’m Carl, that’s Daryl. What’s your name?”, the boy said while you took another sip.
“(Y/N)”, you forced out of your mouth.
For a few minutes, they just kneeled next to you while you drank the water slowly, you would have loved to just let the water rush down your throat but you were that weak that you couldn’t even do that and as well as that, you also knew that you would probably throw it up again.
“How many walkers have you killed?”, the man, Daryl, asked after watching you for the past few minutes.
“I don’t know, many”, you said still with a weak and trembling voice, but at least you could get some words out.
“How many people have you killed?”, he asked while you looked swallowing at him.
You were sure that this was some kind of test and that the result would determine what would happen next.
In your head, you counted the people whose lives you took, you were sure that there were people out here that had killed way more but you weren’t proud about your count either.
Even if it had been necessary.
“Eleven”, you said swallowing while trying to read something out of his mimic.
“Daryl, she’s hurt, she needs our help”, you heard Carl say now.
“I know. We still gotta do that”, Daryl replied before he looked back to you.
“Why?”, he asked still looking at you.
“When I had to protect myself, when…when there was no other way”, you said while asking yourself if that had been enough as an answer.
Daryl looked over to Carl, who nodded before their glances wandered over to you.
“We got a place, not too far from here. If you want to, you can come with us”, Carl said while you looked at him.
A new chance.
But that’s what you had thought the last time as well.
“See, we understand you. But we just wanna help you”, Carl added.
“You look as if you could need that”, Daryl grumbled.
You looked at your hands, still covered in a mix of walker and human blood.
You didn’t ever want to go through something like this again, never.
But what did you have to lose?
Even though you hated to admit it but in the condition, you were right now, you wouldn’t survive a lot longer.
“Okay”, you finally said quietly before you tried to get yourself up, you felt a hand on your upper arm, trying to pull you up before you jolted shocked up, your eyes widening. 
Not because of the pain the bruises and his grip let you feel, simply the touch of someone scared you to death and catapulted you back to the thousand times this touch was meant to bring you to the ground and not let you get up again for a good while.
“Sorry”, Daryl grunted while he loosened the grip on your arm. 
You finally stood on your feet, trying to not let your weak knees force you to the ground again while you still trembled at his touch.
“Gotta prop you now. Won’t get you to the car else. You ready?”, he asked while he looked at you through the hair strands that hung into his face.
For a short moment, you felt like you had to throw up just thinking about someone coming that close to you, even though you knew that this was just to help you.
You slowly nodded before you first felt Daryl wrapping an arm around you, Carl following him to do so while you felt you tried to get the pictures out of your head, showing you the moments the feeling of someone touching you was followed by unbearable pain.
You slowly stumbled through the forest, your body still trembling before you saw a car standing on the side of the street not too far away.
“Here we are”, Daryl said, before he opened the door of the car and let you slid onto the bench.
You breathed more easily again as you felt their touches leaving your body and the door shut next to you.
Moments later you saw Carl sitting down next to you, giving you another bottle with water while Daryl started the engine.
You kept on watching both of them, just in case, but something about them gave you a good feeling.
And slowly but surely, you felt how your body began to signal you that you should finally give yourself a rest, finally close your eyes and get the sleep you needed that much.
You kept fighting your tiredness for a few more minutes even though you had this good feeling about them before everything before your eyes slowly but surely got black.