The Walking Dead Imagines (Requests OPEN)

[Daryl Dixon] Reach Out

PROMPT:
The reader is in love with his best friend Daryl- but can't seem to find the courage to tell Daryl, and risk losing their friendship in the process.
[requested by BrendonT1988 ]
[this is in first person point of view and it's a male reader]

I've never been ashamed of who I am- or what gender I liked. Of course, there were times when people would make me feel like I wasn't allowed to be who I am...but some people just didn't understand. Their lack of understanding wasn't their fault. They just didn't know- and the unknown could be scary.

But it was never scary for me. In fact, it was simple. If it was what my heart wanted...then it was what I wanted.

When the apocalypse began, I found myself on the run, stranded and in the middle of nowhere with no one but my younger sister. She was tough and smart- but I still had to put my everything into watching her and looking out for her. I was so use to only seeing her face. Only hearing her voice. Honestly, apart from the dead ones, it felt like we were the only source of life on earth.

It wasn't until the two of us stumbled upon a farm that we saw new people. But it wasn't as welcoming as either of us would have liked. An old man with a stern face, you know, the kind that you knew had lived through a lot of shit. Well, this dude didn't exchange his hand out to us. Rather, his shotgun. It was some rusty farming shotgun. Honestly, didn't even look like it worked.
"You're trespassing." He growled- but I could see through his intent. He wouldn't shoot us. I put my hands in the air like they did in the movies, and my little sister followed my example.
"Listen, sir...we don't mean no harm. We just need a place to rest."
I don't know if it was because my sister was so young and small that he felt it safer he just let us in- or if it was because he felt it was his duty to shelter a guy desperately looking out for his sister. Whatever it was, I found no traces of it the next time people arrived at the farm. The old man's name was Hershel and I learned very soon that he was a real family guy. So I did what I had to do to earn my keep. I went out with the hunter of the group, a chubby guy named Otis, and I took credit for the meals on the table. Sometimes when I wasn't helping out with hunting, I'd do anything else. I just wanted to make sure my sister had a place to stay.

However, if there was one thing I didn't do- it was participate in the drama. Back to when new people arrived? Hershel had a lot of stress on his shoulders- a young child had been shot by Otis by accident...and now Hershel had an entirely new group to host for. He wasn't happy about that at all.

I stuck to myself, kissing my sister on her head and venturing off into the farm. I had met a few people from the new group...but I didn't want to get attached. I didn't know if Hershel would kick them out...and I didn't need new faces just so I could lose them.

So I found myself on the outskirts, holding a rifle I never would have held before the apocalypse. I stuck my gun up at anything that moved...and found myself pointing it at a man. A very much alive man.
"How's about you lower that weapon of yours, little boy." The man growled. I scoffed, tightening my grip on the gun.
Okay, well, I wasn't going to shoot him...but I also wasn't going to take his instructions and lower my weapon.
"Sure I will." I remarked. He rolled his eyes, chewing on his tongue. Across his shoulder was a crossbow. Though I noticed he hadn't pulled it out and pointed it at me.

The silence wasn't broken until there was a light pitter patter of four legs hidden in the long grass before us.
A deer. I instantly pointed my rifle at it. Like clockwork, he pointed his crossbow at it.
"Mine." He growled. I squinted my eyes, lining the deer up with my sights.
"Yeah...about that." I pulled the trigger, and the deer fell down. I trudged over to the deer, staring down at it. He did too.
"You one of Hershel's men?" The man asked, looking down at the deer.
"Yeah." I breathed out. "You're with the group, right? The one with the kid?"
"Yeah."
"I'm Y/n."
"Daryl." He turned around, obviously pissed at losing his catch.
"Wait." I called. Daryl turned back around. "You take it."
"Huh?"
"Hershel has more than enough food for us. I know he's not being as generous as he could be with his food, so take the deer back to your people." I told Daryl. He nodded, dropping his crossbow and hoisting up the deer by its legs.
"Thanks man." Daryl growled. I nodded.
"Just trying to get by."