The Little Zombie Who Could (1_rhiannon_1) wrote,
The Little Zombie Who Could

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flash fiction #26

Finally! This one took a while! Again, I broke the 1000-word limit but not by much this time. I hope you like it - I'm looking at you, luveskane !

Title: Flash Fiction #26
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Word Count: 1075
Characters: Daryl Dixon, Andrea
Warnings: This one is pure imagination, set sometime in season 2. luveskane gave me the idea – Andrea has become my personal little TWD village bicycle, I’m afraid. I kinda envy her though, to be honest.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Daryl, Andrea, or any other character associated with The Walking Dead, much to my ever-lasting regret. I just like to take the characters out and play with them from time to time. This is unbeta’d and unedited – all errors are mine (and, considering how out of it I am right now, there are probably plenty of them!). If you see anything that needs correction, please let me know! Concrit is always welcome!

Andrea grabbed her backpack and wandered quietly out of camp when no one was watching. She didn’t really plan for things to happen this way; she just saw her opportunity and took it. She hated to disappear on the group, hated to cause them worry about what had happened to her. She just couldn’t take it anymore.

She’d been wandering for a while when she came across what was probably some sort of summer camp before the walkers came. Seemingly deserted now, there were multiple cabins and what seemed to be a longhouse shower cabin. Her first thought was that this would be perfect for the group; maybe there would even be a generator for the showers. Then she snorted out a laugh – she’d left the group. They’d either find the place on their own or not. It was no concern of hers. Not anymore.

Andrea wandered through the camp, not really paying attention to her surroundings. Her heart skipped a beat when someone clapped their hand over her mouth and grabbed her around her middle, hauling her through the doorway of the longhouse. She screamed but no sound escaped thanks to the big hand over her face. She could barely breathe.

“What the hell is wrong with you, woman? You got a death wish or somethin’?”

Daryl. She sagged in relief, closing her eyes and willing her heart to start beating normally again. Daryl released her and she whirled on him. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you, you damn moron?! You scared the hell out of me, grabbing me like that. You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you!” She slapped his chest and glared at him.

“Keep your fuckin’ voice down!” he hissed as he snagged her wrist and dragged her to the window. “Look at that. You woulda walked right in the middle of ‘em.”

Andrea looked out the window and gasped; there was at least a hundred walkers out there, just milling around on the other end of the compound. There was a small group of them not a foot from the other end of the longhouse. Daryl was right – if he hadn’t grabbed her, she’d have likely walked right into them. She looked back at him, abashed. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words just wouldn’t come.

“I saved your life. You’re welcome,” he said. He went back to cleaning his arrows. “I blocked the doors and windows, all but this one. We can’t risk leavin’, not now. We’d draw them right back to the others. It’d be a bloodbath. We’ll have to wait it out, wait’ll they leave on their own.”

Andrea couldn’t contain her surprise. “Since when have you ever cared about the group?”

Daryl threw the arrow he was cleaning down and grabbed Andrea by the arm. “Hey, you don’t know a fuckin’ thing about me. Don’t mistake me for my brother. That’d be a big mistake.” He shoved her away and sat back down, snagging his arrow as he sat. “I care. I know what y’all think about us Dixons. And I know Merle was an asshole but you know what? I was raised to respect my elders and love my family. So I respected him no matter that he was an asshole. You can think what you want. Makes no never mind to me. But don’t think you know the first damn thing about me cause you don’t.”

Andrea was struck speechless. That was the first time Daryl had mentioned Merle since he and Rick had come back from Atlanta. Rick told everyone what had happened, how they found Merle partially eaten and reanimating, and he’d asked that everyone give Daryl some space and not bother him about it. She felt bad for making Daryl think of Merle again, even though she didn’t intend it.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. Daryl just nodded so she sank down in the floor next to the bench he was working on. “You’re right, you’re not like Merle. At least, you don’t call me ‘Sugar Tits’ every time you see me.” Daryl snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, but that actually worked on the bar flies back home. You’d be surprised – they ate that shit up with a spoon.”

Andrea just laughed and shook her head, moving to sit next to Daryl. “Maybe I’m just not a ‘Sugar Tits’ sort of girl.” Daryl gave her a side-long glance as he said, “Maybe Merle just didn’t say it right?”

Andrea looked at Daryl for a long moment. She wasn’t sure who moved first; the next thing she knew, she was in Daryl’s lap, his arms tight around her, his mouth on hers. She grabbed his shirt in her fists and pulled, sending buttons flying as she tore it open. Daryl growled, deep and low, and pulled Andrea’s shirt over her head. “Mmm, sugar tits,” he murmured as he tossed her shirt on the floor.

Andrea’s laugh turned to a low moan as he ran his tongue down her neck to her cleavage. “Oh yeah, it works when you say it,” she whispered. Daryl grinned and laid Andrea back on the bench beneath him. “Told ya,” he said. “It’s all in how you say it.”

The next morning, Andrea woke up to find Daryl already dressed and ready to head out. “Mornin’,” he said as he came to sit next to her. “The walkers are gone. Musta wandered off while we were sleepin’.” Andrea nodded as she stood up and grabbed her clothes. “Are you comin’ back with me?” he asked, his eyes dark as he looked at her.

Andrea stopped moving and just looked at Daryl. She knew that he’d probably never admit it but damned if it didn’t sound like he wanted her to come back. She had to admit that she felt better today than she had in a long time; since before the walkers came, to be honest. She walked over to Daryl and bent down to kiss his cheek. “Yeah, I’m coming back with you,” she said.

More than a few wondering looks were cast their direction as they walked back into camp together. Andrea was pretty sure her mussed-up hair and Daryl’s torn shirt were dead giveaways but she honestly just didn’t give a damn what the others thought. For the first time in a long time, she actually wanted to live.

And, wonder of wonders, she owed her life to a Dixon.

Tags: fanfic, flash fiction month
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