Daryl Dixon x Reader One-shots

Daryl x Daughter!Reader: Part 5 (final)

The sun beat down on your face as you stared at the scene below you. Prisoners shuffled through the biter-filled courtyard, securing the corpses to their respective anchors. The bright orange letters on their grimy sweaters glowed in the sun, the large 'A' catching your attention. Your father stared up at you on the balcony through the greasy strands of hair, his face devoid of all emotion.

"Hey! Get back to work," a man yelled as he slammed the butt of his gun into your father's skull, making him stumble forward straight into the arms of a walker. You gasped as the walker clawed at Daryl, but you didn't flinch. Bad things happened in the Sanctuary nearly every day – everyone was used to a little violence.

Movement in the corner of your eye caught your attention, making you turn to see Sherry walking past the courtyard toward the entrance of the Sanctuary. She seemed casual in her small black dress, but her tensed shoulders betrayed her act. Not daring to make eye contact with her, you turned away from the prisoners and entered the building, heading straight down the hallway and to the stairwell. As soon as you rounded the corner you spotted Sherry making her way towards you. You continued down the hallway, paying her no attention. You had to avoid suspicion at all costs. Her hand brushed yours as the two of you walked past each other, your hand concealing the note she had just subtly handed you. The note crinkled as you shoved it into the pocket of your jeans.

You only relaxed the smallest bit the moment you entered your bedroom. It was nerve wracking. Your jaw ached painfully from clenching it. Sighing quietly, you sat down on your unmade bed and pulled out the crinkled note, heart pounding.

2 am. Dwight's room. Keys on wall next to door. BE SAFE.

Your eyes scanned the note for a second time as you memorized the words. Getting up abruptly you hurried towards your dresser and snatched up a lighter, flicking it on. Holding the delicately small note above the flame, you watched as the orange tongue ate away the instructions. There had to be no evidence.
As soon as the small note had disintegrated, you brushed the flakes and ashes behind the dresser and left the room.

Rushing out of the room, you headed towards the lower level of the Sanctuary where the rush of the workers had slowed to a trickle. Some days they seemed more tired than others and you couldn't help but feel mildly sympathetic. Your eyes scanned the large number of people in the room; people waiting in line to exchange points for bread, women sewing new clothes with old material, and Laura, who was reprimanding a young girl - just who you were looking for.

You hurried down the stairs and pushed your way through the crowd of people who parted like a school of fish.

"Do you see the dead freaks outside? I can take you out there and you can join them if you want," you heard Laura snap at the girl as you came closer.

"I'm sorry, I didn't –" The young girl began, promptly cut off by the woman.

"You didn't what? You didn't mean to steal the –"

"Laura!" You called, ending her confrontation with the young girl who seemed to be on the brink of tears. She wasn't that much younger than you by the looks of it.

The blonde turned to face you, her scowl softening as her anger with the girl was momentarily forgotten.

"What is it?" She asked, placing her hands on her small hips.