Not a Child (Daryl Dixon x Blind!Reader)
Prompt: A blind! Reader x Daryl with Daryl realising they’re actually a really good asset to the team because of their heightened other senses to compensate
Author’s Note: Thank you for this! I enjoyed writing it, and I hope that I wrote what you wanted. If you have any questions or want to request something, shoot me an ask. This one is a bit longer, and I hope to continue keeping these requests that way. Once again, thank you! Also, if I ever write anything that is offensive or wrong, tell me. I want to know for future reference.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Blind!Reader
Words: 1097 words
Warning: Cussing, slight gore (very little), slight ableism
There was a sickly sweetness in the air, hidden beneath the horrendous stench of rotting flesh. You tipped your head back and sniffed, a grin teasing the corners of your lips. Somewhere to your right, you heard a grunt and a thump of an arrow lodging into the brain of a lone Walker. Leaves crunched beneath the boots of your grumpy companion as he reached for your arm, his fingers curling around your bicep.
There were many things you had learned about Daryl Dixon, and the first was that he lacked a gentle grip. He spoke in hushed curses and strange noises, ignoring almost everyone and their suggestions. Out of everyone that talked to him, you were the one he treated like a lost child. To him, your inability to see the world around you made you a liability.
And you were already proving him wrong.
Daryl had done nothing but complain since Rick asked him to bring you along, shoving you around the woods. However, it was beginning to show just how much he relied on his sight, and you couldn’t help but love how quickly you managed to notice any approaching danger.
“Walker. To the left. No, my left, Daryl,” you said.
He scoffed, turning to fire his next arrow, and the Walker went silent. Wearing a smug grin, you waited for a word of gratitude, but he walked past you, muttering something underneath his breath.
“Don’t know why I had to bring you.”
Rolling your eyes, you followed him, keeping your ears open and your nose ready. At any second, the both of you could be cornered and torn apart, returning as a mindless corpse.
You couldn’t remember the last time you saw the world. If you remembered correctly, you lost your eyesight when you were barely seven, and it had devastated your parents. They spent years trying to find a way to fix you, ignoring the fact that you had managed to adapt and learn. You were forced to rediscover every dip and curve in the sidewalk on the way to your school, listening for the rumbling engine of the bus, and you had succeeded in mastering the other four senses you were born with.
A whole new world had formed, and it was beautiful in its own way.
“Keep your eyes ahead,” Daryl grumbled.
Turning your head, you frowned in his direction, sticking your tongue out. However, you were used to the sarcasm he used frequently, and it no longer bothered you like it used to.
It didn’t take a pair of eyes to know that the both of you were terribly lost. Daryl would huff and turn in the opposite direction, cursing at the sky when it took him nowhere new, and you had to swallow the laughter in your throat. You could smell the sweat that dampened his skin, the afternoon sun beating you both down.
“If we turn right, we’ll be on the road back to— “
“Really think I’m gonna take advice from someone who can’t even see their damn hands?”
You stopped in your tracks, your nails biting into your palms, and you furiously chewed on your lip. Since losing your eyesight, you had only dealt with a handful of hateful people, but their words didn’t sting like his did. When they came from someone you considered to be a friend, it made your blood boil, especially since you had been through Hell and back with Daryl.
“You don’t know a damn thing, do you? We all have shit that holds us back, Daryl. However, some barriers are more visible than others. My blindness doesn’t make me any more of a liability than your stubbornness does. Don’t act like you’re better than me because you can see where you shit and what you eat.”
In the next moment, you were storming through the woods, visibly shaking.
“Where’s Y/N?” Rick asked as Daryl sauntered past him, breathing heavily and trembling.
“Ran off like some damn child.”
Cursing underneath his breath, Rick took hold of Daryl’s arm, yanking him back before Daryl could get away.
“This isn’t how we work, Daryl. We don’t just leave each other behind because they make us mad. Go ou—What?”
Daryl turned his head as Rosita called out from the lookout post, your name falling from her lips. A few of the survivors crowded around them as you limped through the open gate, a severed head gripped in your bloody hand. Greasy locks were twisted around your fingertips, and a rusted crowbar shot out from the front of its rotted skull. You were hunched forward as you tossed the head onto the ground, letting it smack against Daryl’s boots. However, it was when you threw him an overfilled bag of supplies that he felt the tension melt away from his shoulders.
“Still think I’m a child?”
It was no surprise that Daryl was waiting for you when you walked outside that night. Having just showered, your hair was soaking wet, the strands plastered to your forehead. You offered him a weak smile before dropping onto the porch swing, feeling it sway underneath you.
“Didn’t have to risk your damn life to prove me wrong,” he said.
The swing dipped beneath his weight, and you savored the warmth that radiated off his body. Shrugging your shoulders, you sagged against the back of the swing and closed your eyes, stretching your legs out. Your bones cracked and groaned, and you yearned for something that would ease your aching body.
“You shouldn’t have said what you did, Daryl. Besides, you gotta admit that I was right. Being able to see doesn’t make you any better than me.”
You almost didn’t realize he had touched you until his hand covered your own. Your stomach flipped, and you turned your head, feeling the heat of his gaze on your face. When his lips finally touched yours, they were chapped and tasted of dust, but it didn’t keep you from scooting closer to him. Your hands found his face, mapping out every bump and scar that marred his skin. His hair tickled your fingers, and you took hold of his damp locks, never wanting to pull away.
One, two, three seconds passed before he leaned back, your fingertips still touching his cheeks. There was silence for the next minute, the sound of your breathing mingling with his own. You knew it was coming before he even opened his mouth, and you wanted to yell at yourself for not stopping it.
“Didn’t see that comin’.”
“I swear to God, Dixon.”
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