Y/N: The heat was extremely heavy that day and you needed water, but the problem was that the stream was too far from the house where you had found shelter, and currently weakness and exhaustion are increasing. You wanted to make another round in the kitchen before you went out, but as you expected, you found nothing.

You had used up the food two days ago when you had taken possession of this small, seedy house. So you decided to get new supplies and drinks. You took two empty bottles, an iron bar on the table, your bow and went out.

You had reached almost halfway to the creek when you heard a rustling in the leaves. Your heart began beating fast in your chest as a large, rotting walker came from a nearby bush. At first you thought it was the best to run away and come back later. You did not have the strength to fight him, he was much taller than you and even with all the goodwill you would never be able to kill him in this situation. You ran as fast as you could with the last of your remaining strength, accentuated by the adrenaline in your body and the biter that was hot on your heels.

You saw the house and entered it quickly, not caring that another unwelcome visitor might have walked in during her absence. You slammed the door and left to lock yourself in the small cabinet in the kitchen.

The biter fought hard to break the front door and when he was inside, he followed the vital scent of you and slammed against the closet door. He rattled and scratched the damaged wood with his now almost missing nails. What could you do now, trapped, without strength and thirsty? You thought about it, and it might have been better to die there than to be torn to pieces by this disgusting creature. You had paused several times to think about what such a terrible death could have been.

After a few minutes, you had almost convinced yourself to try your luck and go out when you heard other footsteps on the kitchen floor.

Great! “What the hell am I doing now?”, you thought desperately.

As long as there was only one, it could still work out well, but with two walkers it would change and you had to be ready for anything.

Suddenly you noticed something else, you heard a strange noise and the wheezing and scratching stopped. The second biter’s footsteps approached your hiding place, you were on alert and ready to defend yourself, positioning yourself as best you could, waiting for what might have happened.

Daryl Dixon: There were days when he was looking for Sophia, he could not remember exactly how much he did not care, he just wanted to find her and was tired of seeing Carol cry every damn minute. He had found clues in the woods on the previous visits, and this had spurred him to do his best to show others that she was still alive and above all able to convince himself.

It was not much longer until sunset, so Daryl decided it would be better to go back when he saw a building in the distance. It looked like a house. That day had been pretty unsuccessful, and maybe that would have been the turning point to make the most of it.

He approached cautiously, with all his senses, to capture every single sound, even every single beat of the insect wings. He took one step up the three steps that led to the door, opened it, and slowly let it creak. Daryl entered the small entrance and pointed his crossbow at the area, ready to shoot at any sign of danger. He looked at the stairs when he heard sounds from the room in front of him, gasps and scratches on wood. He walked over to the door dangling off the side, which was now only halfway up the post, and entered the room that used to be a kitchen. A big biter stood in front of a small wooden cabinet, banging and scratching the door as if something or someone had caught his attention. Daryl knew there had to be something alive in there, because that’s the only thing that can catch the attention of those assholes. The arrow stuck with the usual millimeter precision in the soft skull of that walker, which now fell motionless on the ground.

He picked up the arrow, wiped it on his right leg, and reloaded the crossbow. He opened the door to the cupboard and prepared to find out who or what was behind it.

The door crashed against the wall. The scene that presented itself astonished him for a few seconds. A Y/H/C-haired girl with an iron bar in her hand stared at him with the same expression of astonishment he had on his face.

“Who are you?”, he asked, still pointing the crossbow at you.

“My… My name is Y/N.”

“Where are you from?”, he asked.

“I have been here for two days. I hiked through the woods in search of a shelter and came here…”

“Do you belong to any group?”

Daryl had not moved a millimeter, he looked attentively at every movement of the woman and watched for sounds from outside.

“Is that a questioning?”, you blurted out without letting go of your weapon, although you were fully aware that you would not be able to do much with leaving an arrow right in the middle of your forehead, but Daryl was speechless.

“I will ask the questions!”

“And who decided that?”

“I would say, my crossbow.”

Daryl began to understand you better when he saw the resignation and tiredness, your face began to darken, leaning against the wall and dropping your weapon on the floor.

“I don’t want to argue anymore, because I just do not have the strength anymore and you’re the first living person I meet after weeks… And I think that’s the answer to the first question.”

Daryl, clearly pressured by this answer, released his grip for a moment as you approached him and came out of the closet. You were not wrong, you were dirty, weak and it’s a miracle that you managed to survive in this desolate place in the forest for so long. Daryl wondered if Sophia was just as lucky…

“I am looking for a girl. Did you see her?”

“I told you, you’re the first living person I’ve seen in weeks. Since I’ve practically left Atlanta. ”

You could hardly speak. Your mouth was dry and every bit of oxygen you inhaled cut your throat.

Daryl was about to leave, it was getting dark when he heard you calling from behind him.

“Hey… please wait!”

You said those words with a half ironic smile, as if you thought that these were your last words. Daryl turned around.

“I know, I’m not a good company and you probably can not wait to go, but please … I just wanted to ask for water …”

Daryl threw you a bottle he had with him and turned to leave the room and go.

But he knew he would not just leave you here…

Y/N: Stay… Please… Stay here… With me… Stay close to me, in this apocalypse, where only a few people still live in this lost world. Please don’t… Do not leave me alone…