Chapter Text
You resembled an overdressed snowman. Swaddled in a lopsided woolly hat, an itchy woven scarf and gloves three sizes too big for you, you trod along after the man. Even your boots seemed to swallow you, as your feet made heavy footprints in the snow that you struggled to escape from once they sunk too deep. Daryl had made some comment about you looking like a ball of cotton wool, as you'd stepped out of the cabin that morning to follow him into the unknown. You argued against it, but your clunky movements told another story - as did the squeaking sound of your waterproof coat as the material slid over itself.
"Wow, Daryl!" You called, your breath coming out in a puff of smoke that reminded you of a fire-breathing dragon. "We've stumbled across Narnia."
The world had shrugged on its winter disguise seemingly overnight. The cabin roof had been blanketed by a thick layer of fresh snow, almost like the icing of a gingerbread house, and the dilapidated wooden fences stood like crumbling candy canes. You could barely see any semblance left of how the area had looked not even a day before. The spiky, barren trees were now coated in a powdery ice that made you remember the caster sugar you'd use when baking cakes with your mother. You knew that you must be hungry, since everything seemed to make you think of some form of baked treat.
"What ya goin' on about now?" The man grumbled, still a few steps in front of you.
His breath also floated wistfully into a white cloud, but this time it wasn't from cigarette smoke. Daryl stalked through the snow like it was nothing but a nuisance. You watched as he kicked the stray ice from his boot, or trudged through the thicker parts with heavy, stomping steps. He'd been muttering to himself all morning about the weather - about how cold it would get at night, or how the animals would hibernate and it'd be harder to find things to eat. He was practical, which you understood. But, at the same time, he was pessimistic.
"Did you ever read those books?" You questioned, waddling a little to catch up with him.
He shot you a look as your shoes squeaked in the snow, but he didn't say anything. You had tried to convince Carol that you wouldn't need all of these layers, but she'd bundled you up all the same.
"Where the children went through a wardrobe into the wintery world of Narnia." You explained, but his confused look didn't change.
The man glanced at you like he didn't understand your point at all, but you still sent him a warm smile to try and melt that frozen expression of his.
"We came through a door." He said flatly, and you let out a laugh.
You hit his chest with your hand, not bothering to try and conceal the lopsided grin he'd given you.
"Sheesh, don't let your imagination work overtime there, Daryl." You teased, and for a minute you thought that his eyes crinkled back - as he smiled in return.
"C'mon." He told you, pulling at the thick material of your coat to guide you in the other direction.
Eventually, you discovered the secret. You felt like you'd mastered the winter terrain, and overcome its trickery. You hung back from the man, and he glanced over his shoulder at you every few minutes to try and figure out what you were doing. You kept your eyes trained on your feet, or more precisely your footsteps. You'd eventually realised that navigating the deep snow was a lot easier if you stood in pre-made footprints. So, you followed Daryl like he were Peter Pan and you were his shadow - sticking to the man's every move. He took a step, and you stepped there in response. You walked in his footprints as though they were stepping stones over running water, letting them keep you afloat above the snow that tried to pull you under. You darted to the next one, and the one after that, trailing behind as if tracking your prey.
"What the hell are you doin'?" He called back, and you wobbled as you lost your balance.
Your left foot plodded into the unmarred snow, just to the side of the print you'd been aiming for. You looked up and frowned at the man, scolding him for distracting you.
"What does it look like?" You huffed, resuming your tentative steps as you caught up with him. "Keep walking, Dixon." You instructed.
The man did as you said, but slowed his pace to keep an eye on you. You caught him shaking his head occasionally, watching as you stretched your arms out to either side of you, and waved them about every time you swayed. In hindsight, you thought that it would be easier just to march through the bulky snow, but you'd quite enjoyed your stint as a tightrope walker - so you continued.
Daryl turned around to look at you for the third time in a minute, and sighed, so you finally looked up to meet his eyes. The two of you had been sent out to try and gather some supplies, but the scowl on his face told you that you were holding him back. You were, admittedly, but with good reason. Ever since the Greene farm fell, you'd noticed the way Daryl had personally taken the weight of the world upon his shoulders. He stayed out hunting until odd hours of the morning, and got so little sleep that you wondered how he was still standing. When you'd woken up earlier, peering through the misted glass of the cold window, you thought that today would be a wonderful excuse to make the man act like a child again - since every child loves snow.
"You don't have to be so grumpy all the time." You noted, scrunching up your reddened nose and sniffling a little as you did so. "It looks like a winter wonderland out here!"
Daryl grunted and mumbled something under his breath that you didn't quite catch. Yet, you still knew that he'd said something, since his words had formed a mist that quickly disappeared before your eyes.
"I ain't buildin' no snowman or some shit." He told you, his voice low and gravelly.
He narrowed his eyes, watching the way you contemplated the idea.
"What about an igloo?" You suggested, and the man let out a chuckle in disbelief.
You smiled a little, ignoring the way the cool breeze had chapped your lips and made them sting. The man's cold demeanor had started to thaw at your teasing - you could already see it.
"Got a warm cabin a half hour back an' yer tellin' me you'd rather sit in a block of frozen water?" He questioned, sarcastically.
You huffed, and it became visible in the stagnant air for the man to see.
"You don't have to put it like that." You murmured, but he still seemed to catch it. "I never got to see snow where I grew up. Let me enjoy it."
It was a white lie, but since everything today was white you'd hoped that you could camouflage it. You had, in fact, experienced snow a number of times - but Daryl Dixon didn't need to know that. What you had wanted to say was 'I want to see you enjoy it.'
Daryl smirked in your direction. "Yer enjoyin' it a lil' too much." He noted. "Tha's the problem."
The two of you had been following a deer's tracks for a while now, but still hadn't stumbled across it. Daryl followed it diligently, whilst you tagged along like an afterthought too preoccupied by the shimmering ice that caught in the sunlight. At some point, you had shed your winter coat. The wind prickled at your skin now, but you'd been almost sweating before from the exertion it took to navigate through the snow. Daryl had a lot less layers on than you, and you wondered if the man ever got cold. He had a long-sleeved shirt on, and his characteristic leather vest over the top of it. You'd been staring at those angel wings for a few hours, taking in the detail of the stitching and the white material that no longer looked as clean as you remembered.
You followed the man as you entered a small forest, ducking under tree branches and steping over winding roots that poked out through the cover of snow. You didn't know how he was still able to follow the tracks, since thick snowflake clumps had already started to obscure them. Still, you remained silent and trusting, as you tried to keep up. Daryl crouched under a particularly low hanging branch, raising his arm to lift it slightly so that he could duck his head under. You did the same, but he must've not realised that you were directly behind him, so he let it go.
The branch swung backwards as soon as he walked past it, flinging the loose snow into your face. It stung your cheeks as the ice settled there, melting over your skin like fresh tears. You spluttered as you inhaled it through your mouth, and felt it get into your eyes. Daryl immediately whipped around at the commotion, only to see you batting your face with your oversized gloves - almost as though they were paws too big for the rest of your body. Then, he laughed.
You glared at him with red, irritated eyes, but he didn't let up. He sent you an apologetic glance and chuckled as he wiped stray snowflakes from your eyelashes and picked some of the bigger clumps from your hair.
"Daryl Dixon, you are one devilish angel if I ever saw one." You grumbled, flinging off one of your gloves so that you could properly rub the corners of your eyes.
Your vision was blurry, and the man looked like a watery image as you wiped your sore, cold nose. He raised an eyebrow at you, before realising you were referring to his jacket.
"Lucifer was one of the good guys at first." He remarked, to your surprise.
He offered you his arm as you crouched under the same branch, careful not to catch it this time.
"So he was." You agreed and walked alongside him, instead of staying behind. "I never took you for a religious man."
Daryl hummed in response, as the two of you approached a small clearing where the ground became less bumpy and the trees more scarce.
"Tha's 'cos I ain't." He drawled, squatting down to inspect the tracks closer, and letting the snow run through his fingers like sand in an hourglass.
"My ol' man used to send me an' Merle to church every Sunday as kids." He explained. "Get us outta the house so he could drink spirits from the bottle like it was holy water."
"Good lord." You responded, sending him a sympathetic glance that he just seemed to wave off.
"Tha's what he told us to say." He grumbled, and you chuckled.
You tapped the man's back with your ungloved hand, running your blush red fingertips over the design on his vest. He flinched a little as you did so, and raised an eyebrow at you.
"So, the wings?" You questioned, and he seemed to understand. "Any reason for them?"
Daryl shook his head, continuing to look forward as he walked.
"I dunno." He admitted, but you suspected that there was more to his words. "Jus' found 'em."
You thought they suited him, in a strange, metaphorical way. He would definitely be mortified to ever hear you claim that he was the group's guardian angel - but in your eyes, he was. Ever since you'd all escaped from the farm, he'd looked out for everyone in a way you could never manage to do. At times, it seemed like he had eyes at the back of his head. In one instant, he'd be on the lookout for walkers, or discovering places for the others to scavenge, and in the next he'd be overseeing Judith when Rick's eyes got too heavy. Daryl was no Lucifer; he only pretended that he was.
"I like them. Wish I had a pair for myself." You confessed, and he gave you a shy smile in return. "Maybe one day I could fly away from all this shit."
Daryl snorted at that, and you let yourself get caught in the way his eyes lit up for a brief moment, like he'd almost forgotten the things weighing him down. As the man continued on, you let yourself purposefully trail behind, standing exposed in the openness of the clearing. When you were sure that he wasn't looking, you bent down and scooped a handful of snow into your empty palm, packing it into a tight ball that stung icily at your skin.
You stood back up straight, just in time, as he glanced around and beckoned you to catch up. You'd hidden the snowball behind your back, and tried your best to conceal the excitement building on your face. You realised that you hadn't done a very good job, however, when the man raised an eyebrow at you and asked if you 'needed to take a piss.'
Shaking your head, you waved him off, before starting to jog in his direction. Your target was those angel wings, and you wasted no time swinging your arm back and lobbing the snowball at him without hesitation. Except, it didn't hit the wings; it didn't hit anywhere near them. Instead, the snow struck the back of Daryl's head and shattered on impact, coating his neck and shoulders in powdery ice. Your face fell, and whatever smile you wore had dropped completely. The man stopped in place, and stayed completely still for a few seconds. So, you ran.
Well, running would be putting it generously. Rather, you stumbled over yourself, kicking up clumps of snow as you struggled to get your knees high enough to yank your feet from under them. You giggled breathlessly whilst you fumbled about, feeling nearly as euphoric as you had done as a child - battling in the snow wars against kids in your neighbourhood. Your giddy laughs soon turned into shrieks of terror, however, as you heard quick footsteps gaining on you.
"I'm sorry-" you cried, not daring to look back over your shoulder. "It was an accident, I swear!" You yelled, but it trailed into a scream as your foot caught something.
Your boot had gotten stuck under a thick tree root, hidden beneath the blanket of snow. You barely had time to register what had happened before you fell flat on your back, knocking the wind out of you and leaving you gasping for air. Daryl approached not even seconds later, standing over you with a content look. You'd gotten your comeuppance, as you began to feel the wetness seep into your clothes where you lay on the ground. You looked up at the man with a sheepish smile, spread out like a flattened star pressed into the snow.
That smile soon turned into a grin as you stretched out your stiff fingers and toes, making yourself as tall as you could. Daryl raised an eyebrow at you, but you ignored him. You moved your arms up and down, and legs side to side, leaving a deep impression in the fresh snow as you did. You remembered making snow angels as a child, but you were a lot smaller then - perhaps only half an angel. You giggled to yourself as you watched the man watching you. He seemed entirely confused, like he couldn't figure you out in the slightest. Your fingertips stung and your nose glowed red, but you didn't care. You felt free, but also increasingly damp.
"Hey, look! I can be an angel too." You yelled out, teasing the man. But he looked at you like you perhaps already were.
"Yer completely mad." He grumbled, half-heartedly, not able to hide his growing smile.
"I know." You agreed, feeling handfuls of snow gather under your palms.
Daryl offered a hand out to you where you lay, trying to help you up off the ground. You grinned at him and took it, feeling the warmth of his skin against you. Then, you decided to be the devilish one, and kicked the back of his knee so that you swept his legs from under him. You pulled him down by his outstretched hand, and barely missed being crushed as he lost his balance and tumbled beside you. Some loose snow scattered around him as he fell, and coated you like settling dust. You bit your lip as he looked over at you, eyebrows furrowed. Yet, you thought that he didn't look very convincing - so you didn't hold back your laugh.
"Come on Daryl, make one with me." You pleaded, pointing to the ground and at your freshly formed snow angel. "You might as well, since you're already here."
He shook his head, exasperated. "An' who's fault is tha'?" He asked, but already knew the answer.
You watched as Daryl was defeated. His surrender wasn't graceful, but you accepted it all the same. The man moved his limbs like he was a poor dancer, with no coordination in the slightest. His movements were bulky and he could barely get his arms above his head to form the wings properly. You snorted, failing to contain your laugh. He stopped in response, shooting you a glare which you thought was just an attempt to cover up his embarrassment. So, you urged him to continue.
The two of you lay side by side for a while, adding to your overdone snow angels and feeling the wetness seep into your clothes. Then, you finally let the man help you up, and the two of you resumed your trek in which you followed his footprints like they were stepping stones atop a pond, and he made them for you so that you didn't fall in.
"Do you still hate snow?" You asked him, your voice gentle and quiet in the stagnant winter air.
"Yeah." He answered. "But snow angels ain't tha' bad."
And so the two of you returned to the cabin, hauling the bound deer by some fraying rope. It scooped up tsunami waves of snow as you both dragged it behind you, clearing away your footsteps like they'd never been made. The sun had started the set, and you could tell that the snow would disappear overnight. You were disappointed that you'd have to return from Narnia soon, back through the wardrobe door through which you came. Though, you didn't mind as much since the man would be coming with you. The two of you returned to the cabin, hauling that bound deer, and leaving behind the two flightless angels lying melting on the ground.