Different Worlds |Daryl Dixon Fan Fiction- The Walking Dead|

Twenty: Sweet Kisses and Night Terrors

              "Oh my god, Daryl, what do we do?" I asked frantically as he gathered me onto my feet and hurried me off of the trail. A herd of walkers stumbled around aimlessly, attempting to get in and around the warehouse.
"They aren't heading to the farm, we can go back and tell everyone to keep-" his last word was interrupted by the sound of a gunshot at the farm, and I silently cursed in my head. "-quiet." he finished with a groan. All of the walkers turned together, beginning to stumble towards the farm behind Daryl and I. I looked between the walkers and the farm, trying to think of what to do. "Don't-"
I broke out into a run, heading along the trail and back home. I knew Daryl didn't want me to be seen by the walkers, but I had to try and warn the group. I wasn't sure if Daryl was following me, all I could hear was the rumbling of the walkers behind me. I made it to the road, seeing everyone doing their regular routines from afar. I wasn't sure how I could get their attention, because by the time I made it to them, the walkers would be hot on my trail. I pulled out my gun, shooting three times in the air, and watched as everyone looked this way. I began to wave my hands around, trying to signal that there was a problem. I turned to see that walkers were just beginning to appear down the trail.
I shooed Rick when he made to run to me, frantically attempting to communicate that it was unsafe. Everyone at the farm seemed to get an idea of what was happening eventually, as they started to get into the cars and toss things in. As they started to drive up the driveway, I was pulled backwards and into some bushes once again, and out of sight. I fought the arms, only to find that it was Daryl holding me down. He put a hand over my mouth, and I watched from our hiding place as walkers groaned after the train of cars driving off down the road.
We sat still for quite some time, but eventually got up and ran for the farmhouse. Thanks to the cars, none of the herd walkers had made it anywhere on the property. However, a couple stray ones had reached the chicken pen and were scaring them. I watched as the chickens clucked and fluttered around out of the dead peoples reach, but the entertainment didn't last long, as Daryl and I took care of the walkers on the property before going inside.
"They'll come back, right?" I huffed, plopping onto the couch. The dogs were gone, and the livestock were safe and sound in their fences. Daryl joined me, putting his arm on the back of the couch.
"Yeah, might stop at one of the safe houses for the night, but they'll come back." It felt weird being in the house with just Daryl, I was so used to a bunch of people being around.
I slid into Daryl's side, closing my eyes. He didn't complain, just stayed quiet. I hadn't expected to fall asleep, but with a need to relax after all of the action since this morning, and it being so quite, I did. I didn't wake up until I was being gently coaxed to open my eyes and wake up by Daryl. I wiped my eyes and looked around, remembering that we were alone. He had a dish towel over his shoulder, and his hair was pushed back and out of his face. It was a strange sight to wake up to.
"What's with the towel?" I chuckled as he stood straight once more.
"C'mon." he took my hand, lifting me from the couch. I only now realized that I had a blanket on me, and smiled at the small gesture that Daryl had done. My smile only grew as I walked into the kitchen to see the table set, candles lit for a bit of light, two wine glasses filled with water, and a delicious supper consisting of deer meat, mashed potato, and green beans. He pulled out my chair, allowing me to sit before pushing me back in.
"What's all this?" I had butterflies in my stomach as I asked. I'd never been on a proper dinner date before, and I wasn't complaining that my first one was with Daryl. Even if it was after the apocalypse, and we had no idea where our friends had gone. He always succeeded in lightening the mood.
"Just thought we should eat." I couldn't help but love, and hate, the way he acted as though everything he did was so nonchalant. He was almost too modest. However, I couldn't complain, and I could tell he knew that what he did was special. He just wasn't the person to admit the real reason he did this.
"Thank you." I smiled to him as he sat down across from me. We both ate, and then he served left over apple pie for dessert. A small smile played on his lips the whole time, it was unbelievably cute. I couldn't help but want to see it grow wider, for it to be filled with laughter. I wasn't sure how to accomplish such a thing in these circumstances, but now I was determined. I was going to make this the best night it could be, even though our friends had left us, and we had to anxiously await their return.
It proved a bit more difficult then I'd thought, but I finally was able to strike up a conversation that made him happy. It took the edge away, and he stopped looking out of the windows every minute. At first, I'd tried talking about what it was like before, but it was clear that he didn't want to think about it. I tried to avoid talking about now, as that was what he needed to forget about for awhile. However, I found a medium, something that happened now and before. Hunting. It was his true passion, even though he did it for survival. It was the only thing he seemed to do that he enjoyed doing.
So, there I was, telling him about the first time my father had brought me hunting, since my brother had gone off to a friends party. I was only around four or five years old, but he liked having someone tag along, and my brother was unavailable at the time. Naturally, I went willingly, assuming I'd get to see some pretty deer running around a field, maybe catch a rabbit with my bare hands and set it free. That wasn't the case. This time, it was real hunting. I had to hold the legs of a doe while my dad fixed it up. I explained in great detail my disgust, and how I bawled my eyes out as soon as he shot it. The tears didn't stop streaming until we got home. Then, as soon as I saw my mom, apparently I seemed proud that I'd managed to "catched a deer", and all of my sorrow over my father killing it was gone. By the time I finished, Daryl was crying himself, but from laughter.
"Yeah, yeah. Crybaby Grace. That was my hunting nickname for years." I chuckled, causing Daryl to smile even wider, if that was still possible at this point.
We shared stories for most of the night. We kept it light-hearted, even though his brother came up more than once. It seemed that if they were good memories, he had no problem thinking of the man Merle. Which was good, since more than a handful of his stories included Merle, and I enjoyed listening to him tell them with a bunch of enthusiasm. The sun had set and the moon was high among the stars before we realized that we'd been talking for hours, and a sudden wave of tiredness hit me.
"We better get to bed." I sighed, sliding out of the kitchen chair. I didn't want to end the talking, but we still had duties to do in the morning, even if the others weren't back.
"I'll take watch." Daryl grunted as he slung his crossbow over his shoulder. I wanted to object, but my eyes were beginning to droop. It couldn't have been that long since my last sleep, and Daryl was the one who needed more rest than I. I went to open my mouth, to just try and convince him to either let me or that maybe we could go one night without someone sitting in the barn, but I wasn't given the chance. Daryl's lips met mine in a soft, gentle kiss that seemed to last a lifetime. "Go to sleep, Grace." was all Daryl said before walking out of the front door.
I stood in the same spot for some time, unable to move as tingles swam throughout my body. Finally, feeling light headed and trying to find my breath, I made my way upstairs and to the bed in the small room down the hall. I sank into it, the feeling of Daryl's lips on mine seemingly imprinted. I wanted to touch them, see if they'd gone numb or something, but at the same time I didn't want to accidentally wipe away the sweet gesture. I had to admit I sounded like a thirteen year old girl receiving her first kiss, but I couldn't help myself. I felt absolutely entranced by this man.

"I can't believe this." Daryl huffed, tossing his arms in the air. We were standing in the small clearing by the tree house, in the same place he'd rescued me long ago. Now, here we were, and I had a strange feeling I wished I was with anyone but him at that moment. "We can't bring a child into this world! Look what happened to Sofia!" his face looked pained. I looked down, seeing my enlarged, round stomach beneath a loose fitting shirt. "Look what happened to Judith!" I crinkled my eyebrows as he pointed to my left, and I followed his fingers, looking to find Judith's car seat, a mangled and unrecognizable but seemingly familiar baby inside. I covered my mouth at the horror.
"Daryl, I-" I wasn't sure what to say, everything was confusing.
"What about Carl, huh? He had to watch his father shut down after they lost Judith, and now he has nothing! He's shutting down, too!" Daryl was full of rage, and he stepped towards me, jutting his finger at my stomach. "I am not letting this happen, I'm not letting it watch us and everyone else die!" I was taken aback by his sudden movements, and he was starting to close in on me.
"Daryl, please. I don't know what's happening! Please, don't hurt me! Daryl, back up!" I scrambled backwards, tripping over a root and falling against a tree trunk.
"I should have never gotten close to you! I shouldn't have let this happen! There's only one thing that I can do to fix this." He growled as he bent down, holding my shoulders, staring me square in the face.
"Please, don't hurt me..." I begged, sobbing now. I felt him put his legs on either side of me, pinning me down. I flailed, trying to get loose. What was he planning on doing?
"Grace? Grace! Grace wake up!" Daryl's expression changed now, his face masked with worry as he held me down. My stomach was no longer large, and we were no longer in the clearing in the woods. I was on the bed, in my house, staring straight up into Daryl's face as he held me down, worriedly calling my name.
I instinctively tried to shove him off of me, but he didn't budge, only tightened his grip as he held me against the bed. I realized now that my mouth was open and sweat was pouring down my face. "Grace, it's okay, it's me. You must've had a nightmare, is everything alright?" I looked around, then eased up and stopped pushing against Daryl. He slid off of me, allowing me to sit up on my own.
"I think I-uh- need a moment. I'm going to get a shower." I stuttered, grabbing my things and heading for the door. Daryl softly called my name, but I locked the door to the bathroom. What kind of dream was that?