Daryl Dixon x Reader One-shots

The Christmas Tree

* Set in late season 3 *

The chilly air nipped at your skin as you worked. Despite the cold, there was no way you could complain – the winter air was a fantastic change from the usually unbearable summer heat.
A walker snarled hungrily behind you and you turned to jam your weapon into its skull, bringing it to a halt. Your body jerked violently as you ripped the axe from its bloody head, returning your attention to the tree in front of you.

Thwack.
Thwack
Thwack.

You winced as the axe cut into the trunk, knowing that each wack would only attract more walkers – and you were out here alone. Your fingers gripped the wooden handle of the axe tighter, your hand aching in protest.

Thwack.
Thwack.

Another walker snarled loudly as you watched it approach you. Your face pinched in disgust as its loosely hanging ribcage dangled with every step it took. Sighing, you walked closer to the corpse, readying you axe. Before you could take a swing, an arrow flew past your head and straight into the eye of the grotesque walker, making you gasp.

"What the hell are ya doin' out here?" Daryl growled and you turned to face him, one hand on your hip and the other holding the axe on your shoulder like a baseball bat.

"What the hell are you doing following me?" You retorted, rolling your eyes slightly. Daryl shot you a mildly annoyed glance as he brushed past you to retrieve his arrow. He wiped the walker goo-covered arrow on his pants before noticing the tree you had been working on; the lower part of the trunk had been wildly hacked away at, white naked wood angrily poking out in splintered shards.

"Ya tryna cut down the tree?" The man question, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah," you shrugged nonchalantly before slamming the axe into the tree once again. You'd done a lot of chopping in the last half hour, yet you hadn't even managed to break through half of the trunk. Only a small wedge of wood had been hacked out. But you refused to give up.

"For what?"

You huffed, turning to Daryl. "Really?" You asked rhetorically, annoyed. "We need a tree! It's almost Christmas!" You said excitedly.

Daryl shot you a look.

"I have a calendar, okay? And if I've been tracking it right, it means that Christmas is in like... a week," you calculated desperately in your head. "And we can't have Christmas without a tree."

"Ain't nobody worried about some stupid holiday. We don't got time to play kid's games," Daryl grumbled as he walked past you, scouting the area for any more walkers. Leaves crunched loudly under his feet with every step he took.

"It's not a kid's game," you scowled. "It's Christmas. Besides, I figured it'll be good for everyone. Help them get their minds off everything. You know..." Your voice softened slightly as sadness ran through your heart. "It'll be good for Carl. Maybe Rick, too. Hopefully it'll cheer them up after Lori..." You trailed off as you stared blankly into the forest floor, fighting off the awful memories of that day.

Daryl paused for a moment to look at you, his face softening. He made is way towards you and took the axe from you in exchange for his knife.

"You take watch, I'll work on the tree," he said softly, averting his gaze. Your heart warmed as you stared at him in awe. Daryl had been your closest friend since you joined the group in Atlanta. You got to know him well, but moments like these still took you by surprise. It just made you appreciate him more knowing that underneath his hard exterior lay a heart filled only with care and kindness.

Two more walkers approached from the west, pulling you back into reality. Running up to them, you kicked the one away and it landed on ground, writhing like a turtle stuck on its back. You jammed the knife through the first walker's temple before turning to the one on the ground. Its face was split from the side of its lip up to its torn ear, exposing a row of blood-stained teeth. Disgusting. You stomped on its head with your boot until the walker's head exploded like watermelon under a hydraulic press.