Father, Where did we go wrong? Daryl Dixon Fanfic

13: Crossroad

"Wait, wait Daryl stop!"

"No, we are going to a safe house, it's safer to travel through the underground."

"Walkers."

"I know," he held a knife to the ready, his cross bow and some arrows on his back. You held a knife to the ready but felt fearful. Ever since you came to live with Negan you knew you were safe. New that nothing could get close enough to hurt you. Negan and his men protected you, anyone who even looked at you with shifty eyes were never seen again.

He protected you, he made sure you were safe.

You didn't know if Daryl would do the same. If his love for you had faltered because he had left you. Fire flashed in your eyes as you remembered the flames building in the loft of the barn. You had nearly died, a small burn on the back of your leg reminding you of that. You looked up at Daryl as he took your free hand in his leading you through the darkness.

You didn't hear any groans of the hungry undead. You just wanted to have light, to be free and safe. You attempted to pull away from him but were quickly pulled deeper into the underground. You frowned, not wanting to follow him without knowledge of where they were going.

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know, maybe back to the farm, or the prison."

"The farms burnt to the ground, what prison?"

"We were at a prison for a while, however it go overrun. I don't know where we are going. We don't want to put any of the other compounds at risk. Now come on sunshine."

"Don't call me that."

"Sunshine?"

"Yes, I have a name. Use it."

Daryl bit his lip and dragged you along. "Sorry."

"What?"

"Sorry. I'm sorry I didn't do the things a dad shoulda done."

You looked him up and down when you felt something touch your ankle. You let out a muffled scream covering your mouth with your hand and turned to see a snake wrapping around your ankle. You let out a sigh of relief thinking it was the hand of a walker.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine..just fine. Just a snake."

Soon it slithered away, but your scream wasn't muffled enough, and soon the sounds of groaning was echoing in the tunnel, you hugged tight to your father. He held you close as he looked around trying to pinpoint where the noise was coming from.

"Just stick close."

"Where is it?"

"Shh." He held his hand out grasping the knife. He listened for the groans, they were growing close, he held you behind him as he saw movement coming from the mouth of the tunnel in front of you. The groan grew louder, the dragging of feet inching closer. He lashed out killing the walker quickly, it fell. It looked old, mostly just a bag of bones.

"I hate them."

"I know.. me too."

"Dad...I...Daryl...what happened? Why did you leave me behind?"

"I was dumb, I took order after years of listening to only myself." He held you close, his hand running through you (h/l) (h/c) hair. He wanted you to know he loved you, he wanted you to know you were his and that he was going to protect you. "I am sorry.. sorry I did leave you behind."

You looked up to see tears in his eyes.

"Are you crying?"

He only nodded kissing your forehead.

"We should keep goin'" He suggested after a few minutes of holding you closer. "Wherever we go, we can always talk about it." You nodded, watching him with question. You never knew what he was going to do, never knew what he was thinking. Growing up before the apocalypse was good, but since the apocalypse life had changed significantly.

Memories of your childhood flashed before you, uncle Meryl and your dad wrestling for you. Hunting with your dad, going on trips while you held onto your dad as he rode the motorcycle. You wanted that back, you wanted it all back. You wanted to be small again, you wanted to forget about the apocalypse and leave the undead behind.

You wanted to keep walking forward, leaving the past behind you.

But you kept seeing the fire, you kept remembering the darkness and the loneliness and the man who saved you from it all.

You were at a crossroad, three paths lay before you.

Daryl.

Negan.

Both.