Survive | Daryl Dixon ¹

𝐱𝐥𝐯𝐢. 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫

"Took me a day to find you," Daryl answered. "Longest day of my life."

Astrid mustered a fragile smile, her gratitude shining through the bleak exhaustion that clung to her like a second skin. "Good thing you found me," She murmured. "I probably wouldn't have lasted much longer. Didn't even have a weapon to protect myself from the walkers."

A quiet, contemplative sound from the depths of the hunter's throat. "That reminds me," Daryl said, reaching into his back pocket and producing something from it. With gentle reverence, he held it out to Astrid. "I found this."

In Daryl's hand was her small knife. Astrid's eyes shimmered as she took it from him, the weight of its return carrying more significance than words could convey. "Damn. Never thought I'd see this thing again," She said, twirling it deftly in her left hand because her right one was still ensnared within Daryl's grasp.

"I never thought I'd see you again."

The softness of Daryl's voice stirred Astrid's heart, and she turned to meet his gaze, only to find him staring at the ground, his demeanor burdened by the anguish of not having found her sooner, of not protecting her from the horrors she had endured. Astrid reached out, her fingers delicately lifting Daryl's chin until their eyes met. "Hey," She whispered. "You don't get to blame yourself for any of this. You found me, Daryl. That's all that matters."

Daryl's rugged features softened as he leaned in, gently nudging his forehead against hers. He pressed another tender kiss to her temple. Then he pulled back slightly, his hand finding its familiar place on her outer thigh. With a renowned sense of purpose, he slowly rose to his feet, brushing off his hands on his pants. "I'm goin' to go get the others," He decided. "They'll want to see you're back. Carl's been missin' his girl."

A playful spark ignited in Astrid as she teased, "Scared of a little competition, Dixon?"

Daryl scoffed, his eyes rolling with mock exasperation. "Please," He grumbled. "That kid's fightin' a battle he's already lost. You're already mine."

Astrid's smile remained bright and delicate as she observed Daryl slipping out of their shared space, off to round up the rest of their group. Her heart quickened with anticipation. Then, a short while later, a low murmur of voices began to seep into her ears, drawing her attention like a moth to a flame. Astrid could not resist the magnetic pull, and despite the searing pain that shot through her entire body with each movement, she slowly and painfully pulled herself to a sitting position. With great effort, she swung her legs over the side of the bed.

Her gaze locked on the doorway, and she watched as Rick and Daryl entered into her line of sight first. The former stared at Astrid in stunned disbelief. It was evident in the way his features contorted that he had not been informed of her miraculous return when Daryl had gone to collect him. In fact, it seemed that no one had any inkling Astrid was back. They had all assumed she was dead.

Summoning every ounce of strength she could muster, Astrid rose shakily to her feet. Her knee throbbed with pain, but she refused to let it deter her. Each step was a test all its own, but she pressed on, determined to close the gap. Before she knew it, Rick had pulled her into his embrace, lifting her several inches off the ground. "Oh, thank God," The man breathed into her shoulder.

Tears of joy welled up in Astrid's eyes as she buried her face deeply in Rick's chest. In that moment, he was more than just her leader; he was her brother, so very reminiscent of her late sibling, Dominic, in the way that he held her. The warmth of his touch was soothing to her weary soul, and she was grateful to have him back in her life.

Finally, Rick pulled back, and the Lancaster woman was soon enveloped by the loving arms of Hershel and Carol. "I'm so sorry, Astrid," The latter said tearfully. "We should have stayed together. It's my fault. I'm so sorry—"