[Daryl Dixon] Dreams

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PROMPT:
It's a big fat mystery. To be completely honest I don't know where this going to go. Give it a shot though ;)

"Dad?" You called, running your hands along the banister of your stairs. Your father sat down at a table, with his glasses on and stared at his laptop profusely.
"Yes, sweetheart?" He replied, his voice a drone.
"Just checking to see you were awake." You finished the stairs and entered the kitchen, heading to the fridge for a glass of milk.
"Can't sleep?" He asked.
"Mmh hmm." You replied, pouring the milk into a glass.
"Mom's asleep. Thought you were asleep as well. Didn't know you'd be working so late?" You asked, bringing your cup to the dining table and sitting across for him.
"I'm out of ideas. Browsing the web." He replied, still staring attentively at the bright computer screen.
"That's un-original of you, father." You scolded, taking a sip of your milk.
"You're drinking milk before bed? That old myth, you know it only applies if you microwave the milk first?"
Your lips curled up in a smile for a split second.
"I know, I just keep having this dream. All the time." You stared at the wall behind him, the family portraits and professionally taken pictures hung on the wall.
"A continuous dream? Same one over and over again?" He asked, taking his focus off the laptop screen.
"No." You replied. "It's like a series. It's odd, vague but I can remember it so vividly."
"A lucid dream, I'd say. You should keep a dream journal. Your sub conscious is the arc of creativity, you know. One day you might turn out to be an exceptional writer like your father."
"Okay..." You said, smirking at him and taking another mouth full of milk. "Maybe you should keep a dream journal, since you're the one who's been up all night searching for creativity."
He nodded. "Good point. I'll invest. So tell me, what is this supposed dream series you keep having?"
You gave him a challenging look.
"It's three a-m, you want me to start?"
He nodded. "Your mother is asleep and I'm intrigued. Start to finish. Go."
You walked into the kitchen and washed up your glass, returning to the sofa a few metres away from your father.

"Well, it starts with this group. We're in trouble, there's something going on in the world...but I'm not sure what. All I know is we're scared. Worried. Always on the look out."
He nods.
"And so I'm with them. They're nice but they're also much more scared than I am. There is this guy..."
"Name?" Your father asked.
"Dixon." You replied.
"Dixon what?" Your father asked, closing his laptop and turning around to get more comfortable.
"Dunno. Dixon is what I call him. I think it's his last name."
Your father nods again.
"I'll tell it like a story, so ya gotta shush? Okay?"
He sighs. "Alright."
"And something goes wrong with his brother."
"So he has a brother now?"
"Shoosh!" You retort. He raises his hands in defence.
"Something goes wrong with his brother and his brother is stranded. I'm sad because despite his brother being a mutant mother-dick, I care about Dixon and I have enough empathy to put myself in his shoes. So myself and a few others volunteer to go help save his brother. On the way, I know something goes wrong. I can't remember what- but Dixon is really upset and I comfort him."
You see the discomfort in your fathers face.
"Don't get too disgusted yet. There's more. When we come back to the camp where all the scared and weak people are, there's trouble. He's got this bow and arrow, it's totally cool and I watch him in envy, cause all I have to prevent myself from danger is a machete, which I am prone to being extremely sucky at using. We defend the weak people. Kids and a skimpy looking brunette woman. It's wild. We are fine though- but now that the danger has found us, we have to leave. We go to a place this guy thinks is safe. Dixon is distant though. I begin to realise that he's not the kind of guy to open up, he's strong and silent and I can tell he needs time to find his place in the group. Without his brother he's kinda lost. So am I though, so I go out of my comfort zone and I stick by him. We go on this journey for another safe place and we come across this secure building. Everything's alright."
"But it's not? Is it?" Your father asks, he seems into the whole story, so you continue.
"No. It's not. We get there and the first night is amazing. We drink alcohol and we eat ourselves in weight. He's drunk and so am I and I swear something changes. We connect. Anyway, the happiness is over and the place goes down in flames. Can't remember how, just that there's trouble and the whole time me and Dixon are kind of co-dependant on each other. The whole time we're kinda looking back and checking if we're alright. We make it out though and we're on our own. Us and the rest of the group. We hit the road."

"The road is troublesome but alas! I learn to use my machete properly!" I put my head in my hands and try to remember the dream I had last Tuesday.
"A kid gets shot and we rush to the farm of the guy that shoots the kid. We meet a new group but for Dixon and myself that means nothing, we weren't especially important in our group anyway. Oh yeah! Before that, a girl goes missing. We all go searching for her. Wait! That's how the kid gets shot."
My father chuckles.
"Exterminating the little kids are we?" He asks.
I shake my head. "No, the one who gets shot lives. The one who's lost? All I remember is that Dixon and I search for her to no end. He takes an arrow and I end up breaking my wrist." You smile to yourself. "But we're kinda friends now. He gets comfortable with me tagging along. We actually get to know each other. Dixon opens up to me."

My father nods.
"I see. The silent mysterious man. The one who lets you in? Cliche'"
You roll your eyes. "Come on dad. You wanted to hear the story?"
He nods.
"Indeed I did. It's somewhat inspiring. Continue."

"I know that things get dire. People start losing humanity and danger finds us on the farm. I get circled, swarmed and guess who saves me?"
My father rolls his eyes at me.
"Dixon?" He says with a wink. I smirk.
"No. My damn self, cause like I said, myself and my machete get quite smitten. I slay all the apparent danger and I hop on the back of Dixon's motorcycle and we ride away.

"We meet up with the rest of the group and we search for a place. One of the women is pregnant and in search for a place to stay, so Dixon and I find this prison. A safe place. Another safe place-" I am continuing my story when light footsteps trudge down the stairwell.
"Y/n honey? Robert?" She calls. My dad and I both turn our heads to face my mother, who yawns. "What are you all doing up?"
I stand up from the sofa and straighten my back. "Sorry mom, did we wake you up?" You asked her. She shook her head.

"No- no. I just woke and saw you weren't there, Rob. Why don't you come back to bed?"
He shook his head.
"Honey, I was just working. I'm sorry, I'll come to bed now." He stood up, packing away his laptop.
You stretched your arms over your head.
"So what do you think dad? Dixon and the prominent danger?! Written by THE Robert Kirkman himself? You inspired yet?" You enthused. He played with his hands.
"you know what..." He mumbled. "I think I am."

You smiled to yourself, then followed your mother up the stairs and into your room. You searched through your drawers until you found an old exercise book. With a pencil, you lazily wrote on the first page:
'Y/N's DREAM JOURNAL'
And then layed back down in your bed.
Who knew what would happen with the story of Dixon the strong and shy? Perhaps tonight you'd find out. Perhaps.

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