Work Text:
"She ain't there?"
"Nah, musta' skipped breakfast." Daryl bit his cheek hearing that. He knew it meant nothing good. He'd been noticing things over the last few weeks. Things about you, things that he didn't like. The eating less, the quietness, the distance. It wasn't just him, you'd been keeping your distance from everyone. He wanted to leave it be but he couldn't. He snatched his bow and started towards your house.
Each foot be walked felt like a mile, time fought against him. Course, you gotta to be in the last damned house here, he thought. His eyes locked on your front door.
Daryl couldn't justify his feelings for you. He didn't want too. Part of him hated himself for even having them, for allowing that kind of emotion to surface. You were too pretty, too delicate, too damn soft for all this and he knew it. He knew you needed the more than this place could offer. And for once, he wanted to give you more.
It was by the bonfire he noticed your lack of presence. Sure, you were sitting there, face lit by the fire with a drink in your hand. But you weren't there. Daryl couldn't describe it, but he could feel it. You sat feet from him, but you were miles away.
He pounded on the door, raddling the weak wood. A few seconds past and he tried again. "Come'on" He mumble, smacking the door with this palm. With no answer again, he took a step back. There was a light on upstairs but he couldn't tell from which room it was coming from. He walk to the back of the house and gave the doorknob a rough turn. With a clicked, It let him in. He was equal parts annoyed and thankful it was open.
He quickly made his way, room to room, looking for you. No luck downstairs so he moved upstairs. The weak light spilling from what must have been your bedroom. Daryl banged on the wall next to your room.
"It's me. You alright? Why ain't you answering the door?"
Silence. Goddammit. He opened the door and held back a shout when he saw you weren't there. Your shoes were gone, sweatshirt gone, you were gone. Out the house and onto the dirt street, he ran. "The fuck are you, girl?" He spit.
"She bolted, dude." Alice sat on the stoop of the house across the unfinished road. With her sketchbook in her hand, she doodled away. "Bailed this morning before first light."
"Where's she go?" Alice shrugged. "You ain't tell no one? Goddammit. What use are ya'?" He took off to the edge of the settlement. The men guarding the exit tried to talk to him, get him to slow down but it was useless. He pushed passed and headed to the one place he thought you'd be. His last fucking hope.
Before the change, you'd spend more time at the creek then anyone. Daryl used to get pissed that you'd send all day splashing in the water and return without any fish. That was until he saw you. He went hunting, got word there was big game around. Instead of a tasty doe, he found you, knee deep in the creek. The babbling of the water, the sun on your skin, the wind blowing your hair. He watched you for longer then he'd care to admit. You were in your own world, more relaxed and content then he could ever seem to find. Even if he couldn't find it for himself, he liked that you had something. Something pure. He hoped it would be enough to find you.
The sound of the creek helped guide him. Dashing between trees, he came to the lip of the water. He shouted your name and waited for a response. With his panic growing, he moved south hugging the turned of the waterway. Again, he desperately shouted your name.
"Daryl?" Around the bend of the creek, you sat with just your feet dangling in. Relief hit his chest first, than the anger came.
He dropped to a knee and grabbed your shoulder. "What the fuck are you doing out 'ere? Huh?" He wanted to yell more, louder, meaner. But the look on your face broke him. He sat next to you, giving you a quick look over making sure your all in one piece. "Why the hell you'd run?"
Your eyes stayed locked on the water. "…bad night."
"So you run off?"
"Just let me… let me leave." He shook his head. Daryl was no stranger to struggle. He knew it well and he saw it in you now.
"You ain't going no where." He looked around, starting to plot a route home. "Listen… well figure it out, alright? Whatever it is."
"It'll be.. easier if I go." He stood up, furious by everything. He hated seeing you like this, hated that he'd seen it before. Mostly, he hated that there wasn't anything he could do. "Please. Lemme go, Dar. Please."
He snatched you up, forcing you to your feet, making you look at him. "Shut up. You ain't going anywhere. Just shut up." Daryl wrapped his arms around you tighten enough to hold all your pieces together. "We'll go back together, alright?"
Your apathy broke in his arms. Soft sobs turned to deep weeping against his chest. All morning you watched the stream run begging for it to take you with it. Trying to disintegrate into molecules, dissolve into atoms and let the cold water wash you away.
Daryl held you patiently listening to you sniffle. He knew you were… struggling but he didn't it was like this. Frankly, it scared him. He waited until you wore yourself out. He felt you lean against him, more and more. He whispered, speaking to you like a frightened horse, "Lemme get you back."
You swallow down the last of your tears. You weren't going to argue with him. You were already feeling guilty that he even had to come here, come find you. He took your hand into his and started slowly walking back. He made sure to keep the route easy. The only words spoken were Daryl telling you where to go. When the settlement was in sight, you stopped walking.
"They hate me." You cleared your throat. "Even more now."
"I don't." He glanced between you and the ground. "Never… Now, Come'on. Gonna throw you over my shoulder, I gotta say it again." He turned and took a step, keeping you in this periphery. Once he saw you start to walk again, he grabbed your hand, not wanting to give you a chance to bolt. As he snatched your hand, he mumbled, "Never."