Daryl Dixon Imagines

Pain

By amortenablack on Tumblr

When you were first brought into the Sanctuary, they didn’t waste time to throw you into a room with nothing more than your bloody tank top and underwear. It was a dark room too, the only source of light you got was from under the large crack in the door. That’s when the music started. On loop. Day after day. It kept you awake, on edge. But if he thought that was enough to break you, he was way off. That’s when Dwight would come in, bringing you food. You took it of course, only to toss it to the ground. That’s what happened with anything they brought, it went straight into the corner of the room. You weren’t going to eat their food, it would be a cold day in hell.

Being alone in the room, was making your mind wonder about the previous events that happened.  All of your group kneeling on the ground, awaiting certain death. The cries and sounds of a bat hitting flesh brought tears to your eyes. Abraham, Glenn. You were at loss of words. You cried secretly for the last two days, you didn’t want to anymore. The one thing you wanted to do was see Daryl. To tell him what happened wasn’t his fault. That Glenn was Negan’s fault, not his. But with how Daryl was. He would always blame himself. Your eyes closed, a single tear slipping from your eyes. As soon as you were about to drift into sleep, that damn song started playing again.

By day four, you think at least. You were exhausted, sitting in the room just staring at the door. Four days without sleep was getting to you. But Negan couldn’t know that.  You clinched your eyes shut when the door reopened, Dwight walking in with another sandwich.

“Take it.”

“Put it in the pile.”

He did what he was told, tossing it into the growing pile of food, “You’re going to eat eventually.”

“We’ll see about that Scarface.”

He stared for a moment before leaving the room, slamming the door shut.

The door opened about what felt like an hour later, revealing a man you’ve never seen before, “Get up.”

“Or what?”

He pulled out a gun, “Get up.”

“Jeez, alright,” you said in a joking tone, standing up. “Is this my get outta jail free card?”

He gripped your upper arm, “Let’s move, come on.”

“Ease up asshole.”

He placed you in a seat, in front of a warm plate of eggs and bacon, causing you to snort, “Is this it? This is how you torture people?”

“You’ve gotta eat,” Negan said, entering the room with Lucille over his shoulder. “And if you’d like to have a nice hot meal, you know what to do.”

“I don’t plan on bowing down to you, nothing will make me change my mind. Especially if you don’t up your torture game, for a man like you this is pretty weak.”

“She’s got a mouth on her doesn’t she Greg?”

“She does boss.”

“We might have to take care of that.”

“That’s more like it,” You said, leaning foreword in the chair. “Watcha got for me?”

“That tough act has got to go, I mean come on,” Negan said with a grin. “You haven’t slept in four days, haven’t eaten, how much of a fight can you put up?”

“You don’t know me, Negan, or what I can do.”

Negan looked at Greg, “Go get our other guest, he’s going to want to see this.”

“He won’t crack either, just so you know. He’s stronger than all of you put together.”

“You two are a thing right? He’s getting a piece of that right?” When you didn’t respond, Negan smiled. “A real man doesn’t want to see anything happen to his woman now would he?”

“We’ll see.”

The door opened and Greg shoved Daryl inside, “Daryl!”

Before you could run to him, Negan stepped in the middle of us, “No sweetheart, you stand right there.”

When he moved, you caught the first glimpse of Daryl. He was a mess, dirty, wounded, he looked like someone beat the shit out of him.

“Daryl?” you whispered, causing him to look up. “It’s okay, it’ll be okay.”

“How fuckin’ sweet,” Negan grinned at the two of you. “But you both know that’s a lie, you won’t be okay, unless you do what I want.”

“We won’t kneel.”

“Figured as much,” Negan looked at Daryl. “You stand right there, you move, she dies. Got it?” All Daryl did was nod.

“What are you going to do now huh?”

“Now you might not know me well but I don’t like to hurt women, especially ones with pretty faces like yours but I gotta break one of you.”

“So you’re going to what? Force yourself on me?”

“That’s not how I roll,” he gripped my shoulders. “But I am going to have my fine man Greg teach you a lesson for me.”

“Do your worst then.”

“Remember Daryl, you try to intervene, her head gets smashed in. You don’t want to cause someone else to die now do you?”

“You’re a prick,” you said before turning to Daryl, seeing hurt and anger in his eyes. “I’ll be okay Daryl.”

Daryl went to reply until Greg reached out and slammed his fist into your gut, making you drop to the ground.

You began to push yourself up, only to receive a hard kick to the ribs, barely a whimper escaping.

“Is that all you’ve got?” you muttered, forehead pressed against the cool floor. “Go on, I can take it.”

“Again,” Negan ordered and Greg kicked again.

Managing to pick your head up, the tears on Daryl’s face was worse than the beating that was being given. You went to send him a tiny smile to let him know you were okay when Greg sent a kick to the face.

“Hey!” Negan shouted. “Not the face. Look how fuckin’ pretty she is, don’t ruin that.”

After six more kicks you were on the ground, almost unable to breath, the only noise being made was  a whimper as Negan pulled your hair back roughly, “Nothin’?”

“Go to hell.”

He sighed, “I guess it’s back to the rooms again, Greg, take her.”

Greg gripped your hair, pulling your weak body slowly from the room. Before exiting, you managed to catch Daryl, staring hopeless as they drug you away.