Right Here

Athena

My body felt like it was made of stone-heavy, aching, unmovable. Consciousness came in slow, disjointed waves, like I was clawing my way up from the bottom of a deep, dark pit. My head throbbed with a dull, relentless pain, and my limbs refused to respond as I willed myself to move.

The first thing I became aware of was warmth. A rough, calloused hand gripping mine so tightly it was almost painful. The pressure grounded me, kept me tethered to the waking world when my body wanted nothing more than to sink back into the darkness.

Then came the sounds-the soft hum of voices somewhere nearby, the rustle of fabric, the distant creak of wood. It smelled different here. Not the sharp, acrid stench of blood and decay, but something cleaner, safer.

I tried to open my eyes, but they were so damn heavy. A slow blink, then another. Light flooded my vision, making me wince, but I forced myself to adjust. The first thing I saw was him.

Daryl.

His head was bowed, shoulders hunched, his fingers locked around mine like he was afraid I'd slip away if he let go. His hair was messier than usual, his face shadowed with exhaustion, and there was something raw in the way he held himself, like he was barely holding it together.

I managed to squeeze his hand, just slightly, and his head snapped up.

For a second, he didn't move. He just stared at me, his wide, stormy eyes searching my face like he didn't believe what he was seeing. Then, before I could even think of speaking, he exhaled a sharp, broken breath -somewhere between a relieved laugh and a choked sob.

"Shit," he rasped, his grip tightening. "Yur awake."

His voice was rough, cracked at the edges, and I knew he'd been here the whole time. Waiting. Watching. Maybe even thinking I wouldn't wake up at all.

But, how did I get here?

I swallowed, my throat dry as sandpaper. "What...?" My voice barely made a sound.

Daryl shifted forward, reaching for something on the table beside the bed. A cup. Water. He helped me sit up just enough to drink, his hands careful but firm, and I hated how weak I felt, how much effort it took just to lift my head.

When I finally managed a few sips, he set the cup down and looked at me, really looked at me, his jaw working like he was struggling to find the right words.

"What happened?" I rasped.

Daryl swallowed hard. "An explosion" He trailed off, exhaling sharply, his free hand clenching into a fist before he forced himself to continue. "It buried ya, sliced your side open."

That explained the agony in my ribs.

My breath caught, images flashing through my mind-Noah, wide-eyed and full of fear, Aiden, cocky and reckless. My last memories came rushing back. Nicholas running. Noah dying. Aiden shooting. The walker with the grenade strapped to it...

Daryl's face was drawn, his expression tight, like he was trying to keep himself together for my sake.

"Tara?" I croaked.

"She's okay," he said quickly. "Eugene got her out, she's gonna be fine."

I closed my eyes for a second, relief mixing with the grief twisting in my stomach. Tara was alive. Eugene had saved her - surprisingly. But Noah... he was dead.

Sasha had just lost Tyreese, now her cousin was gone too.

Daryl hesitated, then, quieter, tinged with doubt, he added, "Nicholas said he tried to save you... Said he couldn't."

Nicholas was a liar.

I knew he hadn't tried to save me. He abandoned Noah - ran like a bitch. No way had he done anything but try to protect himself. But I didn't say anything, not yet... because if Daryl knew the truth, he'd kill him.

I met his eyes again, forcing myself to nod, to accept Nicholas' lie for now. But inside, I was already thinking ahead. He would pay for letting Noah die.

Daryl's fingers flexed around mine, his grip still tight, like he was afraid I'd fall unconscious again if he let go. His other hand ran over his face, fingers dragging through the scruff on his jaw as he exhaled, unsteady.

"I thought-" His voice caught, rough and strained, and he shook his head. "Thought ya were gone."

The words were raw, like they had been carved straight from his chest. He wasn't just saying it - he'd believed it.

I tried to squeeze his hand again, to tell him I was here, but I didn't have the strength. So I just watched him, waiting.

He let out another breath, then leaned in closer, his free hand pressing against my arm like he needed to feel me, to remind himself I was real.

"I ain't leavin' ya again," he said, his voice low, resolute. His blue eyes burned into mine, fierce with a guilt I didn't want him carrying. "I said that before. Meant it, too. But thought I was doin' the right thing, goin' out, takin' that damn job, but-" He broke off, shaking his head. "Ya got hurt. 'N' I wasn't there."

His jaw tensed, his shoulders tight with frustration.

"I ain't doin' that again. Not leavin' to go recruitin' with Aaron-" His throat worked, his grip on my hand tightening. "Not when I coulda lost ya."

I hated seeing him like this. Torn up, blaming himself for something that was never his fault.

"Daryl," I rasped. He lifted his head, eyes locking onto mine, waiting.

I swallowed against the dryness in my throat, forcing my voice to steady. "It wasn't your fault."

His face twisted, like he wanted to argue, but I wouldn't let him.

"Stop," I said, pushing through the weakness in my body to hold his gaze. "You couldn't have known."

He was silent for a long moment, his fingers twitching against mine. Then, finally, he gave a small nod, but I could tell he wasn't convinced. His thumb traced small circles against my skin, his grip never loosening. He was watching me closely, his brows furrowed, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Ya hurtin'?" His voice was quieter now, careful.

I swallowed hard. "Yeah."

His expression darkened, and he shifted like he was ready to tear something apart. "Gonna get Denise."

He stood up, reluctantly letting go of my hand, but not before brushing his fingers over my knuckles one last time. He hesitated, like he didn't want to leave me even for a second, then turned and strode out the door.

Denise?

I let my head sink further into the pillow, my body exhausted, the pain settling deep into my bones. It wasn't unbearable, but it was there, constant, radiating from my ribs, my shoulder, my leg-everywhere. Like I'd been crushed under something heavy.

Which, I guess, I had.

It wasn't long before Daryl returned, his boots heavy against the floor. A woman - Denise - followed behind, her long, dark blonde hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, her expression focused but kind.

Hershel was with her, too. The sight of him was a relief in itself. If anyone could keep me breathing, it was him.

"Well, now," Hershel said, stepping up beside me, his voice calm, steady. "It's good to see you awake." He paused, glancing at Daryl. "And a good job your husband has O-Negative blood. You lost a great deal."

I looked to Daryl, who dipped his head.

His blood was running through my veins right now.

Denise gave me a small, reassuring smile. "I'm still learning, we'll do our best to help with the pain."

I managed a weak nod, letting them do what they needed to. Denise administered the painkillers, and slowly, the sharp edges of my discomfort dulled. Not gone, but easier to bear.

Daryl didn't move from his spot beside me. His arms were crossed now, his jaw still tight, but his eyes never left me.

I blinked up at him. "How'd I get back?"

Daryl exhaled, shifting. "Found ya," he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Got ya back. Merle drove."

I let that sink in. Daryl had come to save me. Merle had driven. The others must've told him I was trapped. But he was holding something back - I could see it in the way his jaw twitched, the way he kept shifting his weight.

Still, I let it be. I was too damn tired to drag it out of him right now.

"How long was I out?"

Daryl ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling in the mess of it before letting out a breath. "Couple days."

A couple of days. I'd lost days.

He glanced toward the door, like he was making sure no one else was listening, then looked back at me, his expression shifting, tightening.

"Things've changed," he muttered. "Since Aiden."

I swallowed hard at the mention of his name, anger rising in me, but I stayed quiet, waiting.

Daryl leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, shaking his head. "Deanna's questionin' havin' us here. Ain't said it outright, but it's clear enough. Her son's dead. She's lookin' for someone to blame."

That heavy feeling settled deep in my chest.

"She blames us being here for his arrogant ass dying?" My voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, then gave a small shrug. "She's been real quiet since it happened. Ain't talkin' to nobody, not even Aaron. There's a meetin' comin' up. Gonna talk about everythin'."

I frowned. "A meeting?"

Daryl nodded. "Rick thinks it's about whether we stay or not."

That wasn't good. I might have been half-dead, but even I could tell this whole thing had the potential to turn bad very quickly.

Daryl must've seen the concern in my face because he huffed, shaking his head. "Ain't the only shit goin' on, though." His lips twitched, the first hint of something lighter in his expression. "Michonne knocked Rick out."

That got my attention. "What?"

Daryl let out a dry chuckle, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah. Dumbass was fightin' some guy named Pete. Don't know what over, but Michonne laid him out." He smirked a little. "Carol told me when she came in to check on you."

Despite the pain, I managed the ghost of a smile. "Wish I'd seen that."

Daryl huffed again, but the amusement in his eyes faded as he studied me, his fingers absently rubbing at his knuckles.

"The others been in, too," he said, voice quieter now. "Worried about ya."

I swallowed, my throat dry again. "Who?"

He shifted. "Merle. Glenn and Maggie, Rick, Beth. Tara would be, but she's still restin'. Rosita, Carl, even Eugene." He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Even the dumbass priest came by."

"Gabriel came?"

Daryl gave a small nod. "Didn't stay long. Just said he was prayin' for ya."

He leaned forward again, his eyes locked on mine, that serious weight settling back in his gaze. "Everybody's been worried. Not just me."

I let out a slow breath. "I'm okay."

His hand found mine again, squeezing gently.

"Yeah," he murmured. "Ya are."

~

I must have fallen back to sleep. I slowly blinked open my eyes, and the infirmary came back into focus. I could see through the window that it was night time now.

Daryl was still beside me. He leaned in close. "Thought ya were goin' unconcious again. Hershel told me to let ya sleep - that ya'd be fine. Just needed rest."

His eyes were fixed on me with an intensity that made my heart stutter. I could see the rawness in his gaze, the relief and something else-something I couldn't quite place, but it was there, lingering beneath the surface.

He sighed heavily, then his voice came low and rough. "Ya scared the hell outta me," he said quietly, his words thick with emotion. He looked away for a moment, like the weight of everything was just too much. "When I came back with Aaron. I thought ya were gone. They told me ya were."

I tried to move, but my body felt heavy. I wasn't sure if I was dreaming or if I was truly awake, but the softness of Daryl's voice felt real enough to keep me tethered to this moment.

His fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face, and I felt it-the warmth, the tenderness in the way he touched me. The kind of care that wasn't just about survival, but about something deeper, our love, that made me want to stay here forever, in this moment with him.

"I thought ya were dead, Ath. I thought-" His voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath. "I was comin' to bring ya home."

I didn't say anything at first, just let his words wash over me. I wanted to respond, to tell him I was still here, still breathing, but the lump in my throat made it impossible. Instead, I reached out, my hand trembling as it found his. My fingers closed around his with a force that almost hurt, but I didn't care. I needed him to feel it, the fact that I was still here, still alive.

His eyes softened when he looked down at our hands, and then back up to my face. "I didn't come there to rescue ya," he said, the words almost painful to hear. "I came to bring ya back... I couldn't leave ya out there, alone. 'N' couldn't let ya be one of 'em neither."

I felt my heart sink at the thought. The thought of him having to make that decision, the weight of it-it made everything hurt, even more than the physical pain I was still feeling. But I understood. I understood more than he could ever know.

His voice dropped even lower, barely above a whisper. "I can't be without ya. Ya mean more to me than anything, Ath." His eyes searched mine, full of desperation, full of something I couldn't name, but I could feel it, raw and real between us. "I didn't think I could do it anymore."

Tears pricked at my eyes as I took in his words.

"Fuck," he continued, his thumb gently brushing across my knuckles. "I didn't wanna go on without ya."

The words hung in the air, heavy and raw, and I felt my chest tighten. He didn't say things like this. Not to me. Not to anyone. But here he was, breaking open in front of me, giving me the last pieces of himself that he'd kept buried.

I couldn't hold back any longer. I pulled his face down to me, my lips finding his in a soft kiss. It was slow, tender, like he was asking for something, and I was giving it back to him, piece by piece. When we pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, and I whispered, barely audible, "You would have gone on. You'd have to. But you don't. I'm here, Daryl, and I'm not going anywhere."

His breath stuttered, and I felt his body relax just a fraction. He held me tighter then, climbing onto the cot beside me and his arms holding me, pulling me close. "I'm not losin' ya. Not ever."

~

The next morning, the sun filtered through the infirmary window, casting soft light across the room. I could feel the weight lifting off me, bit by bit. My body still ached, but it wasn't the same pain it had been. The fog in my head was clearing, and with it, my ability to think clearly again. But there was one thing I couldn't ignore - Daryl.

He was sitting in the chair beside my cot, looking like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His face was drawn, eyes bloodshot and tired. His clothes and skin were caked with dirt and dried blood, and there was a tension in his posture, like he couldn't quite relax, couldn't let go of the fear that had kept him on edge ever since I'd been trapped under that rubble.

I didn't want him to feel like he had to stay glued to my side, to keep watch over me like I was on the edge of death. I was alive, and as much as I loved having him close, he was running himself into the ground

"Hey," I said softly, but there was a firmness in my voice. His head snapped up.

"Yeah?" He barely managed the word, his voice rough from lack of sleep and too much stress.

"You need to go shower. Take a break. You haven't eaten," I said, sitting up a little straighter in bed, my voice taking on a more insistent edge. "I'm fine. I promise. I'll be here when you get back."

He opened his mouth, but I cut him off before he could argue. "You've been through hell. You can't help me if you're not taking care of yourself. Go."

He stared at me for a long moment, a silent battle waging in his eyes. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He stood, his movements stiff. "Don't wanna leave ya."

I softened, my voice gentler now. "You need to rest. I'll be fine. Denise is here, Hershel too."

"M'kay." he finally mumbled reluctantly, bending down and pressing a lingering kiss to my lips.

As the door closed behind him, I sighed, letting myself relax into the bed. I had to admit, a part of me wanted him to stay. But I also knew he needed to heal just as much as I did.

The quiet didn't last long though... Merle's familiar voice filtered into the room, drawing me out of my thoughts.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to wake up," he said, though his usual cocky tone was absent. When he stepped into the room, I noticed it immediately. There was something different about him. The swagger was missing, replaced by something more somber. The smirk was forced, absent. His eyes, though still intense, were tired and distant.

"Where are my flowers and grapes?" I joked, curious about the shift in his demeanor.

"Gift shop was all out." He jested back half-heartedly.

"Shame." I quipped, eyeing him suspiciously.

He scratched the back of his neck, looking uneasy. "Guess I owe ya an explanation." He paused, clearly trying to find the right words. "It weren't pretty when I found ma brother - hell, he was carrying what I thought was your body."

Okay, now I'm confused.

"They told 'im ya were gone." He continued. "Thought he'd lost ya. That's how bad it was. And then seein' him like that... fuck, man."

My stomach twisted at the thought of Daryl carrying me, my bloody, half-dead body in his arms. I wanted to ask more, to say something, but Merle's next words stopped me.

"I wasn't there," he added, almost like it was a confession. "I wasn't with him when they told him ya were gone. I wasn't there for him at all. Hell, I didn't even know anythin' had happened. I was in a damn shed, drunk off my ass, feeling sorry for ma'self.

I blinked, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Wait... you weren't with Daryl? I thought you came with him to find me..." I said, feeling muddled.

Merle looked away, his jaw tightening. "Nah. I wasn't there. I don't even know what I could've done to make it right, but I shoulda been there for him. Didn't know nothin' until Officer Friendly found me after, told me he'd gone to bring ya home."

I was silent for a long moment, the pieces of what Merle was saying slowly falling into place. I felt for him, for the weight of guilt I could see him carrying. But my heart mainly hurt for Daryl - my mind kept going back to the image of him, broken and carrying me in that state. It felt wrong, like a wound that couldn't be healed.

"Merle..." I started, but I didn't know what to say. I wanted to say it was okay, that Daryl would move past it, that we'd all be okay, but I couldn't.

"All I've ever done is let him down," Merle said, his voice low, like he was speaking to himself. "Never been around when he needed me."

My attitude swiftly changed. It was time for some tough love.

"So, what? You fucked up... and now you're sitting here bellyaching to me instead of trying to make it right? Have you even tried talking to him?"

Merle stared at me blankly.

"Jesus Christ. Daryl loves you... You were a shitty brother for a long time, and he never gave up on you."

Merle's eyes narrowed.

"You messed up with this." I continued. "So go make it right. Tell him you're sorry, explain why... Don't just grumble to me about it. Fix it."

He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

"The world literally ended, yet you kept finding each other again... this is bullshit... so go, get out of my hospital room, find your brother... and don't come back here until you have."

Merle stared at me for another moment, shocked by my outburst, before slowly nodding and edging his way out of the door.

"Yikes." Denise muttered, eyes wide, as she appeared by my bed to check my stitches. "You told him."

"Yup." I replied. "Denise, when can I get out of here?"

She looked hesitant. "Well, you should stay a few more days at least."

I raised my eyebrows. "Should?"

"Well, uh, you're out of danger, you should be fine now, but it'd be good for Hershel and I to keep an eye on you. Keep on top of your pain relief and antibiotics."

"So what I'm hearing is - I can go?"

"No-"

"Yup. That's what it sounded like to me. Keep on top of pain meds and antibiotics. I can do that."

"Athena-"

"Denise. I'll take them to go. I'm fine. I can't lay here any longer."

"I, uh... let me talk to Hershel."

Hershel warned that I should stay, told me he'd prefer to keep an eye on me himself.

"Hershel... we live in the same house..." I reminded him.

"Yes." He sighed, reluctantly. "I suppose you're correct."

"Sweet. It's settled then."

~

When Daryl returned, looking much fresher, his skin free of grime and bloodstains, he found me sitting cross-legged on the bed in the spare clothes Denise had found for me.

His eyes widened as he noticed I wasn't lying under the covers. I was dressed, my hair sort-of brushed, a bag of pill containers lying in my lap.

"I'm coming home." I told him adamantly.

"Is that safe?" he asked, hesitant.

"Yeah." I reassured him. "Daryl, Hershel literally lives with us. He's going to keep an eye on my stitches. He's told me which meds to take and when."

Daryl chewed his thumbnail.

"Come on. We haven't even had chance to sleep in our own bed yet. I'm dying to get snuggled under that squishy comforter with you." I said.

"What did Denise say?"

"She said it's fine." Now come on. Help me walk."

He didn't help me walk. Instead, he gently lifted me against him, one arm under my legs, the other around my waist, a faint smile adorning his face.

I wasn't the only one looking forward to me being home.

"Ya have to rest." He instructed me.

"Aye, aye, captain." I smiled as we left the infirmary, me clutching my painkillers and antibiotics.

~

The bed was even softer than I remembered, the sheets smooth against my skin as I finally settled in, the exhaustion of the past few days creeping in despite everything else. I longed for Daryl to crawl in beside me, enjoy some time together alone, but a constant stream of visitors kept us apart.

Rick and Carl first, baby Judith bouncing in her brothers lap. Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, a battered Tara, Carol. All coming to check in, make sure I really was alive.

It was dark before Daryl finally climbed in next to me, his arm draping tentatively over my waist, his chest warm and steady against mine. His body was a comforting presence, something I needed more than I ever realized. Although his weight was gentle, afraid to put pressure on my wound, his arm around me felt like an anchor, like he was keeping me safe.

I shifted slightly, wincing at the reminder of my injuries. I couldn't help but let out a soft breath of discomfort and he immediately tensed, his hand moving to my side. "Ya okay?" he asked, his voice raspy, the concern in his tone evident.

I nodded, though I could tell he wasn't convinced. He always could read me like an open book. "I'm fine. Just sore," I murmured, looking up at him. His face was shadowed in the dim light, but the tenderness in his eyes was clear. I could feel the weight of everything that had happened - the fear, the relief, the way he'd been holding onto me like I might disappear again if he let go.

"I really thought I'd never see ya again," he whispered, his voice thick, and I felt his breath catch as he spoke, like he was still reeling from the thought.

I reached up and cupped his face, my fingers brushing against the rough hairs on his jaw, the familiar feeling grounding me. "I'm right here. I'm with you."

He didn't say anything right away, but I could feel him leaning into my touch, his forehead pressing against mine. For a long moment, we just stayed there, the silence between us comfortable, filled with everything we didn't need to say.

"Thought ya were gone forever," he murmured finally, his thumb brushing across my hand. "Felt like I'd stop breathin'."

My chest tightened, and I wrapped my arm around him, pulling him closer, my heart aching for all the unspoken things between us. "I won't leave you." I promised quietly, my voice steady.

He nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering for a moment, as if to reassure himself that I was real, that I was here.

"I ain't goin' recruiting with Aaron anymore," Daryl said, his voice a little stronger now. "Not unless we both go. I won't leave ya behind, Ath. Not again. I need ya with me. Or we both stay here. Together."

The words hit me harder than I expected, a rush of emotion swelling in my chest. It wasn't just about the danger of the world outside. It was about him wanting to keep me close, needing me beside him. I felt the same. "I don't wanna be apart either." I whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. "It's me and you."

He nodded, his eyes locking with mine, fierce in their conviction. "If we're gonna stay here, keep this place safe, find more people, then we do it as a team."

His words made my heart swell, a mix of gratitude and love, but also fear. The weight of what we'd been through, of the near loss, still hung heavy. I pressed my lips to his, slow and soft, a kiss that was as much for reassurance as it was for love. When I pulled back, I saw the same emotion mirrored in his eyes.

"I love you." I whispered.

He smiled, kissing my nose. "I love ya more than anything."

We laid for a while, just enjoying being there together.

"Did Merle come find you." I asked eventually, my voice quiet. "He told me what happened."

Daryl didn't say anything at first, but I could feel the tension in his shoulders rising as I held him.

"Mhmh." He grunted.

"Are things okay?"

He shrugged. "Merle's Merle. Ain't ever gonna be there. 'Bout damn time I accepted it."

I stroked his face. "He loves you. He knows he fucked up... and he did come after you when he found out..."

"Yeah."

I didn't push further. The brothers needed to work it out on their own. Instead, I leaned in.

He kissed me again, this time more firmly, with the same intensity that had always been there between us. I felt the familiar heat rising in my stomach, I could tell it was in his, too, but we both knew my body was too hurt, too battered for anything more. We'd take advantage of having our privacy soon enough.

It didn't matter. This moment, this closeness, was enough. The soft rhythm of his breath against my skin, the gentle pressure of his body against mine, it was everything.

Daryl settled in beside me again, pulling the covers up over us. His arm slipped back around my waist, holding me close, his chest rising and falling steadily as he drifted into a much-needed sleep. I followed soon after, my body still sore, my mind swirling with everything that had happened. But I slept peacefully. Because I knew we were together. We were here. And we'd face whatever came next, side by side.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! ❤️