Daryl Dixon was 45 when he saved you seven years ago during a storm. You got kicked out of your group, because there were too many mouths to feed. A horde of around six Walkers snuck up on you that night, backing you into a landslide. You had no weapons. Nothing. Your group left you to die. That was until, a man with a small group of people. The group fought the walkers off for you and welcomed you with open arms. They took you back to Alexandria, which was a small neighbourhood that was fenced off. It was considered a safe zone. No zombies could get in. There a were many huge houses there. And Rick, who was the leader of Alexandria and the group, put you in a house with Daryl.

Daryl was hard to talk to. He wasn't talkative, but after a year of getting to know you, he became... Protective of you, respectful and loving. But he didn't show it in front of others because of his reputation.

It was now 2011, Daryl was now 53. It was Friday, 8AM in Alexandria; You and Daryl were on a supply run. You went to an abandoned store to gather supplies with him. He knew you could handle walkers, but he was scared for you.

"Stay close." Daryl commanded, as he put his M15 Assault Rifle on his back and took his crossbow out, looking out for any walkers.