Can You Keep A Secret?: Pt. 25
Summary: When Daryl Dixon stumbles across a group of survivors, he’s taken aback to find that amongst their numbers is none other than the girl who got under his skin a long time ago. But she knows too much, secrets from his past that could drive his brother away, and so he hides her existence from his own camp, entering into a dangerous charade that could ultimately cost him everything.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
‘Y’ain’t gonna die,’ Daryl bit out, though he sounded a hell of a lot more sure than he felt. He knew he needed to do something, anything, but the only solution he had was only going to cause Merle more pain. Still, as his brother’s desperate eyes found his, he knew he had no choice. If he didn’t try and Merle turned, he knew he’d never forgive himself. ‘Over here.’
He led Merle a short distance to the foot of a large tree, the trunk broad, the roots snaking up from the ground in large gnarled knots. Settling him down against the rough bark, he reached into his back pocket for the dirty rag that was stuffed there and passed it over, watching as Merle’s brow creased in confusion. ‘Wha’s this for?’
‘Bite down on,’ Daryl confirmed, nodding at him to shove the wadded fabric into his mouth. ‘Can’ have ya yellin’ ‘n’ screamin’. Gonna bring that whole herd back down on our asses.’
‘What are ya gon’ do?’ The archer didn’t think he’d ever seen fear like that in his brother’s eyes before and it stuck in his throat, making it hard to swallow.
‘What’s gotta be done,’ was all he said, reaching for the knife at his hip before another thought struck him. ‘Ya got booze?’
With the rag tucked between his teeth Merle couldn’t answer, but he tipped his head towards his pack and Daryl rolled his eyes, never failing to be amazed by the older man’s ability to maintain a steady supply of drugs and liquor, even as the world fell apart. Rifling through the bag, he came across a half-filled hip flask, unscrewing the lid and taking a sniff.
‘Vodka, man? Since when d’ya drink this shit?’
Merle shrugged as if to say beggars couldn’t be choosers and Daryl resealed the container, setting it down on the ground and going for his knife once more. Nausea rose in his throat at the thought of what he was about to do, but he choked it down, steadying himself as he met Merle’s gaze once again.