Trespassing (Daryl Dixon x OC)

Nightmares

"I tell myself that I shouldn't be scared but I'm still having nightmares."

When I opened my eyes, I was nearly hyperventilating. It was the middle of the night, Daryl's arm wrapped around my stomach. Becoming aware of this, my chest tightened even more. 

It was because of my dream, if you could even call it that. These nightmares were a common occurrence and I'm still not used to them. This one was a bit different, however. I couldn't remember much but knew it had to do with Gareth and the train car I was kept in. I carefully slipped myself out from Daryl's arm to go downstairs and try to calm myself down.

Once I opened the door, I stopped. I turned back to look at Daryl for a minute. He was so beautiful while he slept. Although, he looked like he was on the verge of nearly waking up so I better make this quick.

As I walked down the stairs, I got a brief flash-image in my head of Gareth on top of me. I stopped for a moment, thinking about it. Was that real? I don't ever remember anyone but Abraham coming to the train car. Trying to shake that out of my head, I continued to the kitchen.

The images didn't stop. I remembered one of Gareth's hand around my throat, causing me to hyperventilate even more. I remembered someone holding my arms back so that I was helpless and defenseless. I remembered my pants getting violently shoved down because I was kicking so much. At the realization, my eyes widened and I dropped the glass in my hand.

My arm stayed in the same position, my hand shaking like crazy and my chest heaving. I couldn't move from my place in the kitchen. The pieces of my nightmare were coming together and it terrified me.

I heard Daryl rushing down the stairs. I don't know if he woke up on his own or because of the crash. He was in a panic when he reached the bottom.

"B," he said, trying to gain my attention.

I couldn't move from my spot. I wanted to stop replaying the dream in my head but it would just repeat.

"Hey, hey, hey," Daryl said, coming around to face me. "Look at me, okay? It's just you and me. Just breathe, alright?"

He took deep breaths with me, keeping my eyes on his. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Deep breaths. Don't think about it. Focus on Daryl. He's here and he's real.

"You okay?" he asked once I'd calmed down.

"Yeah," I mumbled, wiping my eyes.

"Bad dream?" he questioned. I nodded. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No," I said, feeling exhausted. "Just wanna go to bed."

Daryl carried me upstairs, wanting to show the utmost care and comfort. He held me tightly but not too tight. He kissed my head every few minutes as a reassurance that he was here.

The nightmares continued, none of them having the same effect as the one of Gareth had but still taking a toll on my mental health. In fact, I haven't even had another nightmare about Gareth or Terminus since, thank God. These ones were mostly just the constant reminders of friends I've lost or the fact I've killed innocent people. They'd make me lie awake for hours, replaying the events like clockwork.

I'd just woken up from another; this one being of that girl, Cindy, I met in the train car bleeding to death, wailing out that I'd left her to die. I sat up in bed, the sheets bunching at my waist, and scooted back slightly to lean against the headboard. Daryl was on his back, eyes still closed peacefully. I tried to think of anything else but could only hear the words she yelled.