" Are you afraid of me? "

91. one for the small girl

QUINN

     THE SUN SHONE DOWN MERCILESSLY ON THE people of Alexandria as they worked to clear their home. There was an endless amount of corpses to be burned, blood stains to be cleaned from the pavement, wounds to be tended to and friends to be buried. Many Alexandrians had perished in the attack of the W people, who were apparently called the Wolves according to Morgan. He had a run in with two of them earlier in the woods. It didn't really matter what they were called though. They were a dangerous group who had broken into their home and killed defenseless people. Quinn may not have liked the oblivious Alexandrians very much but none of them deserved to die like that. Then there was Jesse and two boys who had been killed by the herd. She learned it was Ron who had shot Carl by accident while trying to kill Rick, blaming him for the death of his family. All Rick ever wanted was to help them and Quinn could feel the blame radiating from him every time he walked past their graves. Another person they lost to the walkers was Deanna. Quinn had felt very conflicted by the thought of the tiny, fierce, woman being gone. She knew Milo had looked up to her but she had never much respect for the way she did things. She felt sympathy for Spencer, who lost all of his family in a very short period of time. But she couldn't say she was mourning for the lives lost.

Most of them had survived though and that fact should have made her happy. But instead the last few days had left Quinn feeling as though she was communicating with ghosts. With people who shouldn't be alive anymore, whose luck had almost run out. It felt as though death was still wandering around the streets, ready to pick off the survivors one by one. The feeling lingered in the pit of her stomach, slowly poisoned her mind and took over her every thought. It created a strange tiredness to keep escaping death so closely. It left her wondering when they truly would get to start living. She thought she would get to live once she told Daryl how she felt, but even that had grown more complicated.

As soon as the hunter crossed her mind, her eyes looked over the working people surrounding her, searching for his sharp features and ice blue eyes. Down the street Aaron and Milo were loading corpses in the back of a truck. Eric was seated behind the wheel, looking like he was trying very hard not to throw up. On her left Olivia was handing out water while keeping an eye on Judith at the same time. She finally found him when she turned to look on her right. He was lifting up another corpse to bring to the truck together with Rick. Her heart fluttered when she watched how the muscles in his arms tensed as he lifted the decayed walker. Sweat glistered on his skin, making him look like he was glowing in the sunlight. 

He was painfully beautiful to look at.

Ever since their kiss three days ago she had been terrified to talk to him. When she had woken the next morning and came downstairs, he had been very quick to leave the room. She hadn't seen much of him since. She could feel the hesitation radiating from him every time they were in the same room and it had only fueled her own fear. Both of them seemed to be avoiding each other while, at the same time, fighting a burning longing within for another kiss.

Quinn was in no way sorry it had happened. In fact, she had replayed the moment over and over again in her mind without fail since the second it happened. She felt an indescribable happiness blooming in her chest whenever her eyes found his. But at the same time it felt as though they had find each other all over again, learn how to be comfortable around one another like they had to in the beginning. This was different from anything she had ever experienced and no matter how badly she wanted to run over to him, she was terrified of pushing him away completely. She knew there was no way she could rush this but she also knew she couldn't go on like this forever. Her entire body ached to be with him and the distance they were both creating was slowly killing her. It was eating her alive, like an animal trying to claw its way out of her body, roaring with desperation to be at his side.

As if he felt her staring, Daryl turned to look over his shoulder. His hair hung in sweaty strands in front of his face but she could still see his eyes as if they were burning into hers. But as soon as their eyes met he looked away again. Her heart whimpered like a wounded dog in her chest.

'I think I preferred the longing stares over this awkward tension,' Michonne teased, breaking Quinn out of her thoughts. Her friend had been observing the exchange with her hands on her hips. 'Now stop moping and help me lift this.'

Without saying a word Quinn reached down to grab the legs of the walker, while Michonne grabbed the shoulders. They had learned quickly that the arms tended to be rotten so badly that they fell off and so instead they lifted the corpses by the shoulders. For three days now they had been working on cleaning the streets. Another crew was working on fixing the wall, which had taken longer than they all had been comfortable with. First all the debris from the tower had to be cleared out. Then new material had to be brought in from the construction site nearby and then finally they could work on repairing the hole and surrounding walls. Everyone had been working tirelessly for days now and to avoid facing Daryl, Quinn had taken up as many night shifts at the hole as she could. She knew it wouldn't solve anything but part of her refused to take the first step again in trying to figure out whatever it was that was going on between them.

'Seriously Morales, I can basically hear your thoughts,' Michonne panted as they lifted the corpse into the back of the truck. 'Just talk to him.'

'It's not that simple,' Quinn mumbled as she walked back to grab another walker.

Michonne caught up with her with a few long strides. 'Why the hell not?'

She bit her lip, not sure how to voice her thoughts.

Her friend scoffed. 'You're not seriously afraid he'll push you away, right? I seem to remember seeing him kissing you back.' She paused for a second, then added with a growing grin: 'And good too, I might add.'

Quinn felt her cheeks growing red and to shake away the embarrassment she said: 'Well, at least I did something. We made a deal remember? It's been three days and you still haven't talked to Rick.'

Now it was Michonne's turn to look away in embarrassment. She mumbled something beneath her breath but Quinn didn't bother asking what she was talking about, too caught up in her own thoughts to worry about the troubles her friend might have. She now realized more than ever why Michonne was hesitant about talking to Rick. The thought that she had permanently lost whatever friendship she had with Daryl terrified her to her core. She couldn't imagine not talking to him, not being close to him, not fighting side by side with him. It had become as much of a habit as breathing. The ever growing distance between them was slowly choking the life out of her. She wanted so badly to fix it but froze in place when she considered the thought that she might only end up making things worse.

'Look,' Michonne began, making Quinn turn around to look at her friend. 'I understand wanting to give him space but this is Daryl we're talking about. He'll stay silent until the day he dies unless you talk to him.'

She nodded, knowing Michonne was right. She knew the hunter well enough to know it wasn't likely he would come to her. She just wished so badly that he would. It was hoping for a miracle but it was a miracle she needed to confirm that the kiss hadn't just been spur of the moment, a poor choice made with too much adrenaline in his veins. She knew how she felt. After spending so long trying to deny it, she was done trying to pretend that Daryl had only ever been a friend to her. But she was worried about what he felt.

'You know he cares for you right?' Michonne said, grabbing another walker by the ankles. 'A blind man could see it.'

She tried to smile, but knew her uncertainty was visible from miles away. 'I hope so,' she muttered, then bent down to grab the corpse by the shoulders.

They spend the rest of the afternoon clearing out the streets of walkers. Much of them had wandered into the fire and they spend the first two days clearing out the water of burned limbs and clothes. When that was done they moved on the corpses scattered around the streets. Looking around at the amount of walkers they still had to clear up, realization of the impossible job they'd done truly settled in. They'd managed to survive against all odds so many times now that Quinn was starting to believe that maybe they were meant to survive this world. When the thought crossed her mind, her eyes once again went to Daryl. She didn't want to survive this world without him by her side. She knew with a scary amount of certainty that trying to survive without him would be like trying to breathe in outer space. Impossible. Which meant that she would have to talk to him. It was almost ridiculous how much the thought of talking to him about the whirlwind in her heart scared her. But the thought of losing him terrified her even more. And so she knew what had to be done.

Rick didn't call for them to stop after the sun had gone down. Olivia had made dinner for everyone and Quinn was more than thankful for the delicious smells of Mac and Cheese that greeted her. Sadly they weren't strong enough to get rid of the smell of rotten flesh though.

She was about to enter the house when Abraham appeared in front of her, wearing a grin that could only mean trouble. 'What is it?' She questioned.

'I seem to remember a challenge made when our mouths were about as dry as the African desert,' he grinned.

It took her a second to realize what he was talking about and then she felt herself mirroring his grin. 'You think you found enough liquor?'

'Found enough to get these dead bastards up and moving again,' he said.

The thought made her shiver but she refused to linger on it and followed him inside the house. On the table stood at least thirty bottles of different kind of liquors. Quinn felt her hands itching to grab them and drown all her sorrows down her throat. A drinking game didn't seem like such a bad idea at the moment.

A whistle of amazement came from behind her and she turned to see Milo had entered the room, staring with wide eyes at the stash of bottles before them. Then he slowly looked up, his eyes going from Abraham to Quinn and back again. He seemed to be remembering the challenge she had offered the soldier back when they were out on the road. If anyone knew how much she could drink, it was her brother. She had won many drinking games and challenges. The only thing that could work in her disadvantage this time was Abraham's enormous size. She would just have to hope that after all this time, she could still hold her liquor. Finally Milo rested his gaze on the ginger and smirked. 'You sure you want to take on this challenge big man?'

'I'm not one to turn tail and run,' Abraham replied.

Quinn simply shrugged and took place on one side of the table, Abraham taking a seat across from her. Her brother seemed to be taking on the role of the judge, standing at the head of the table while a crowd of curious Alexandrians started forming around them. Milo opened his mouth, probably to announce some rules, when Rick came walking in. He only needed to take one look at the table to know what was going on.

'You sure this is such a good idea?' He frowned, wearing the expression of a cop telling a couple of teenagers in the park to leave before someone could get hurt.

'Come on, Rick, you can't take away the joy of us witnessing this,' Michonne smiled sweetly at him.

'Yeah, dad,' Carl weighed in with a small smirk appearing on his face. 'This could be fun.'

For just a second Rick seemed to consider the options he had here before finally taking a deep breath and nodding. Quinn couldn't tell if it was because Michonne basically begged to watch her two friends get drunk or because he seemed to realize that even if he didn't give his permission, no one would listen to him anyway. She was just happy it worked because at that very moment, Daryl entered the room and once again her hands itched to reach out for a bottle and drown herself in it. The redneck seemed to know what was going in within a second of looking at the table and he narrowed at her. Quinn turned her eyes away from him, no longer wanting to think about him and everything else that was still so complicated between them. All she wanted was a drink.

Milo had been filling ten small glasses for the both of them. 'Let's start with this,' he said. 'The first one to finish wins the first round.'

Quinn frowned. 'How many rounds are there?'

'As many as you can take,' her brother replied, seeming just seconds away from letting out an evil laugh.

She nodded at him, then turned her eyes to the glasses before her on the table. A small smile appeared on her face. Getting shit-faced drunk was exactly what she wanted right now. Abraham's offer couldn't have come at a better time.

While Milo counted down her eyes drifted over to Daryl one more time only to find he was already looking at her. This time he didn't look away. He seemed to try and give her a warning glare but sparks of amusement were dancing in his eyes, as if part of him was eager to watch this play out. Her heart raced in her chest and she quickly turned her attention back to the glasses on the table in front of her. When Milo reached zero, her hand immediately went for the first glass. She swallowed the alcohol in one go. It burned in her throat and warmed her stomach. She had barely swallowed it before she already went for the second glass. Her entire body seemed to become warm and fuzzy from the liquor in her veins and she relished the feeling. Shouts of encouragement came from all around her, putting a grin on her face as she reached for glass after glass. She lost count of how many she still had to go, just kept reaching for the next drink. It felt as though she was glowing by the time she finished her last glass, putting it down on the table with a loud "thunk". She looked up, smiling in satisfaction to see Abraham was still working on his last glass. He put it down seconds after her, frowning in frustration when he saw she had won this round.

'One for the small girl,' Quinn grinned while Beth chanted her name behind her. 'Zero for the big man.'

'Bring it on small girl,' Abraham challenged while Milo filled their glasses once again.

The room was spinning around her, the faces of the group watching blurred together. She could see Glenn managing to look worried while smiling at the same. Maggie was at his side, a broad grin on her face. Beth was beside her, still chanting Quinn's name. Rick still wore his worried cop brow but was clearly trying to fight off a smile. Michonne was next to him, grinning widely at Quinn and it gave her renewed purpose.

Quinn felt dizzy as her brother counted down again, realizing now it would have been smart to have some of Olivia's Mac and Cheese first. Far away in the fog that had started to cloud her brain she knew she would have one hell of a headache the next morning but when Milo finished, she didn't care much. Once again she drank glass after glass while the Alexandrians shouted her name and screamed encouragements to Abraham.

She finished impossibly fast, watching with a grin as the soldier was once again mere seconds behind. She wanted to ask if it was hurting his pride to loose against such a small girl but forming words was too hard and so she merely laughed.

'I demand another round!' Abraham shouted, his face had turned red. He brought his fist down to try and make a point but missed the table completely, lost his balance and fell out of his chair.

A laugh came up from deep within her stomach, but only as it reached her throat did she realize it wasn't a laugh at all. She jumped on her feet, stumbled awkwardly towards the sink and puked everything she just swallowed back out. Her stomach turned painfully inside of her and the entire room seemed to be spinning in strange colors and shapes. A hand landed on her shoulder and tried to guide her away from the sink but she protested, holding the sink tightly as her stomach lurched. She leaned over and puked some more, the sounds very funny to her for some strange reason.

When she was done she was quickly pulled away, led out of the room, leaving behind the laughter and shouts of the Alexandrians. She couldn't tell who was holding her, not because she didn't care, but because the room was spinning so badly she was afraid to turn her head to the left to take a look. She knew she made a bad decision, she just couldn't recall what it was because every time she tried to think about it, she just ended up laughing. Her feet caught behind her own leg and she stumbled. The ground came awfully close and she prepared herself for the pain but it never came. Instead she was suddenly flying. She was vaguely aware of two strong arms wrapped around her but she much preferred to be flying instead and so she closed her eyes, pretending to be souring above the clouds, to fly far away from every fear and every bit of pain.

The illusion shattered however when she was put down on something soft. She pictured a cloud and when she opened her eyes she was greeted by an angel looking down at her. His eyes were as blue as the sky she had just been flying through. His features sharp and drawn like a perfect marble statue. Every bone in her body ached to reach out and touch him and so she did. Her fingertips wandered over his cheeks and she could feel him tensing up beneath her touch.

She frowned. 'Are you afraid of me, Daryl Dixon?'

His eyes studied her as he stayed perfectly silent, maybe too afraid to even answer. He could take down herds of walkers completely unafraid, but would forever be terrified to her fingers tracing the lines of his features. The irony wasn't lost on her but somehow she couldn't bring herself to laugh.

'Are you?' She pressed, craving the answer more than she craved another drop of alcohol.

'Yer drunk,' he mumbled, taking her hand in his and guiding it away from his face.

The movement stung and she frowned at him once again. 'Don't change the subtest.' A small giggle left her mouth. 'Subtext.' No that wasn't right either. 'Subject,' she finally managed to say, triumph glowing in her veins like the alcohol she had consumed minutes before.

Amusement flashed through his eyes, changing the color from icy blue to a warm, summer sky, blue. It softened his features, showed a sight of him that he seemed determined to hide. She had seen it shine through a few times, whenever he looked at Judith or Carl. Or when he was concentrated on fixing the string of his bow. She loved his face like that even better than she loved his face when heading into a fight. And with a startled shock she realized that maybe it wasn't so strange that he was so afraid of her, because the fast way her heart was beating at the moment scared her to her very bones. She felt like telling him so and tried to sit up. Sickness hit her like a tidal wave and she groaned, quickly laying back down again. Instead she took his hand, ignoring the way his arm twitched, as though he wanted to pull away from her.

She traced the lines of his fingers, frowning slightly as she whispered: 'I'm afraid of you too.'

Far in the distance she could hear the rumbling of his voice as he replied but she couldn't make out the words. Fog was dragging her down to an awaiting darkness below. She was too tired to struggle and closed her eyes, falling fast asleep.

She dreamed of angels and blue summer skies. But then she was falling, desperately trying to reach out to something, anything, to hold on to. Her hands found nothing and instead she kept being dragged down, calling out for help but no one came.

When she opened her eyes again the sun was shining through the small crack in the curtains, illuminating the room. Pain shot through her mind like a dagger being pushed and twisted around in her brain. She closed her eyes again, hating herself for ever challenging Abraham to a drinking game. She definitely hadn't missed the headaches that followed in the mornings after a night out. Carefully she opened her eyes again, blinking to get used to the soft yellow light of the rising sun. She frowned slightly upon noticing a dark shape seated on the corner of the bed.

Daryl was hunched over his crossbow, tugging at the strings, making prepares that only he understood. His faced was relaxed in a way that she didn't often get to see. His scarred fingers worked fast and precise while the muscles in his arms tensed but her eyes were drawn to his face the most. The sharp lines, his blue eyes and his lips that she had kissed like she was drowning and he alone could breathe back the air in her lungs.

'Yer starin',' he spoke so suddenly that she startled.

A small smile appeared on her face as she, not for the first time, wondered how he managed to do that. Maybe it had something to do with her breathing, or the way she had moved when she woke. Or maybe he had just used that scary gift of his to know when someone was looking at him. Like he could feel the weight of a gaze on his shoulders. Whatever it was, she couldn't continue to keep staring anymore.

Slowly she worked on sitting up. Dizziness waved through her and stomach turned in protest. She moaned in pain, making Daryl look up from his bow and watch her in amusement as she worked herself into a seating position. 'I definitely didn't miss that,' she mumbled, afraid that if she talked too loud her head would burst.

'Ain't nobody forced ya to do it,' Daryl grunted.

'Not true. Abraham forced me,' she grinned, then added after a second of silence. 'Please tell me I didn't do anything stupid.'

He suddenly seemed unable to look at her, turning his eyes back to the bow in his lap. A soft groan escaped her lips and she hung her head in her hands. The movement felt as though a thousand little needles were being shoved into her brain and so she quickly looked up again. She searched her mind for memories of the previous night but all she could seem to remember was the feeling of flying. Though, there was something else, burning at her fingertips, eager to fight its way to the front of her consciousness. The feeling of his skin beneath her fingers as she traced his jawline. Are you afraid of me?

Her cheeks burned at the memory but her heart raced at the thought of finally having been brave enough to question his feelings. She just hated the fact that she'd been too drunk to remember the answer he'd given her. Plus, she couldn't possibly remain drunk for the rest of her life. She would have to face him without alcohol in her system someday. And what moment better than right now?

'I should have asked it sooner,' she began, her voice soft. She looked at him, but Daryl was busy studying his nails. 'I'm done avoiding this,' she added, hating how hopeless and desperate she sounded. 'I'm done pretending like nothing happened because something did happen.'

His movements faltered and for a second he sat as still as the statue she had imagined him to be the night before. Finally he lifted his eyes to look at her and the sudden vulnerability in them shone as bright as a diamond in the sunlight. It almost hurt to look at. He took a deep breath and finally spoke. 'Ya know before all this I just hangin' 'round with Merle. Gettin' high like nothing mattered. I ain't never had...' He cut himself off, staring her like she was the sun, impossibly bright and impossibly far away. 'This before,' he finally finished.

Quinn raised her eyebrows, ignoring the pain that shot through her head and waited for him to make a real argument. Her life had just been as empty and meaningless as his before all this. She had never had a real relationship either. Someone who made her heart race, who occupied her every thought, her every waking moment. If this was his reason for having pushed her away these last few days, he was gonna have to do better.

He sighed, knowing what was on her mind, like he always did. 'You scare the fuck outta me Quinn.'

The way he said her name, like something forbidden he could never hope to reach, made a shiver crawl down her spine. She wished for nothing more than for him to whisper it to her, over and over again, until it had become a prayer. Instead she moved forward, as far as she could without feeling like she would throw up again and whispered. 'Well, I got news for you,' she mumbled, reaching out her hand so she could touch his fingertips, but not doing so quite yet. 'You scare the hell out of me too.'

She searched for his eyes, only to find he was already looking at her. There was a burning anticipation within the depths of his stormy blue eyes, as if he was hungry for what she were to say next, like his entire life depended on the words that would leave her lips after this confession.

'If you're afraid to do this, please tell me now and I'll never talk about this with you again. I'll pretend nothing happened. Just...tell me.' All she needed was for him to say something.

He gave a small shake of his head, his hand twitching as though he was tempted to pull away from her, yet unable to do so. Finally he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. 'I ain't good enough for ya,' he started. 'I don't deserve ya.'

Some small part of her wanted to laugh but it was overruled by a wave of infinite sadness washing over her. The fact that he truly believed that he wasn't good enough for her, that he didn't deserve love, was enough to shatter her heart into a thousand little pieces. She moved her hand even closer to his, their fingertips now touching. She remembered how they sat together on the porch the first morning they had entered Alexandria. They had talked about finding peace and it had been the only thing on her mind since. She doubted herself, doubted if she deserved to find peace but after everything they'd been through, how could she keep doubting it? She had already found her peace, already found the home she wanted to live in for the rest of her life.

It was him. It had always been him.

'Daryl Dixon you listen to me,' she said, her voice loud and clear, her heart filled with more certainty than she ever felt before. 'You are enough, more than enough. You deserve to find peace.'

At her words he tightened his grip on her hand, as if she were his life line and her words were the only thing keeping him grounded. As if he wanted so badly to believe her but couldn't quite bring himself to do so just yet.

She took a deep breath, encouraged by his reaction, she finally spoke the words she'd been dying to say for as long as she could remember. 'So, let's do this,' she whispered, her voice dropping to barely louder than a murmur of a soft breeze but she was close enough for him to hear every word. 'Together.'

The heat that was radiating from his skin was wrapping her in a warm glow and she wanted nothing more than to lean closer, closer, until there was no space left between them. 'I'm done waiting,' she added, never knowing where her sudden bravery came from. Maybe it was the remaining alcohol in her system or maybe she was just high on love. All she knew was that she wanted him and she wouldn't give up until she got him.

A shaky breath left his lips and she relished in the feeling that she was the one having this effect on him. She had enchanted him, just like he had enchanted her. Of that much she was certain now. All she needed was to hear him say it.

'Fuck,' he muttered, his voice more uncertain than she'd ever heard it before. 'The hell are ya doin' to me?' He looked at her, the storm in his eyes had calmed down, leaving behind a sapphire blue sea that she wanted to drown in completely. Finally a small grin appeared on his lips, all uncertainty had disappeared and it set her heart a glow. And when he spoke, she felt warmer than even twenty glasses of alcohol had made her feel. 'Together.'

A U T H O R 'S   N O T E

It's been a long while since I even looked at this story, but I'm finally back with a new chapter! Aside from school being a huge pain in my ass, I kinda fell into a hole after last chapter. The kiss was such a milestone and after that I kinda felt like there was nothing left for me to tell. I had no idea how to go from there because the built up was so big. I also really struggled with writing Daryl into a romantic setting because it's something never seen before in the show. I wanted to stay true to his character so badly that I was afraid to take a little risk. But I think I finally found a balance.

BUT after rewatching the walking dead, talking about it with others and planning out where I wanted to go with this story I finally felt like I had a direction again. I'm very excited about the things I've got planned. Daryl and Quinn are at the start of their relationship and I finally have an idea where I want them to go.

This chapter was a joy to write. The drinking game between Abraham and Quinn was something I had planned for so long. And of course having Quinn drunk while Daryl takes care of her is just the most thing to write. I really hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter. If you did please leave a vote or a comment, I love to hear your thoughts!

Thank you all for your continued support, you guys really are the best readers I could possibly ask for.

Much love,

xx Nelly