The Reckoning

I watched from the porch as Daryl, Rick, Merle, Michonne and a handful of Alexandrians piled up the last of the walkers, dragging them toward the gate to dispose of them.

There had been more than just the one that Rick had marched into Deanna’s little meeting with - slamming the bloodied corpse at her feet like a trophy - a lot more.

They’d entered through the main gate that had been haphazardly left open. Rick had spotted and slaughtered them, taking down the lot to protect Alexandria at the exact same time his character was being brutally torn apart by its residents.

We’d seen the mess last night, but it had been my idea not to clear the carcasses right away - instead, I suggested we leave them a while, let them serve as a reminder to the ungrateful Alexandrians of what would have been tearing them apart had it not been for the man they were hoping to exile.

I should have been paying attention to all of it. To the risks, to the reality of our situation. But my eyes kept straying to my husband.

Daryl moved with that effortless strength that always managed to steal my breath. Even now, after all this time, after everything we’d been through, I couldn’t look at him without feeling that familiar heat crawl up my spine.

His shirt clung to his back, damp with sweat, the fabric stretching over every defined muscle as he hauled a walker onto the pile. His arms flexed, the corded strength in them a stark contrast to the way those same hands had held me last night.

How could someone so strong, so dangerous, touch me with such tenderness?

I pressed my lips together, pulse quickening as the memories surfaced - his body pressed against mine, his rough fingers skimming my skin, careful even as they held the wound at my side.

He had been so gentle with me, even as I gasped against his mouth, even as we moved together in the dim moonlight that crept into our room.

He always touched me reverently, like I was the most precious thing in the world. It didn’t make sense... not for someone as tough as him... I’d seen him tear through men like they were nothing, snap bones, put arrows through skulls without a second thought. And yet, when it came to me, he was so soft, so delicate.

I used to think that marriage was a one-way ticket to losing interest in each other, that it dulled the fire between couples. But if anything, I wanted Daryl more every day. I adored him more every day. Maybe it was the world we lived in, the way death loomed over us constantly, making every moment more precious. Or maybe it was just that he was Daryl Dixon.

He wiped his arm across his forehead, leaving a streak of dirt behind, and turned, catching my stare. I didn’t look away. His lips twitched, just the barest hint of a smirk, and my breath caught. He knew exactly what I was thinking.

Merle, unfortunately, did too.

“Damn, woman,” he called, hoisting a walker over his shoulder. “Ya ain’t even tryna be subtle.”

Rick huffed a quiet laugh, and Michonne shook her head, muttering something under her breath. Daryl, though, just shot his brother a glare before looking back at me, that smirk still playing on his lips.

“Problem, Ath?” His voice was rough, teasing, but there was something else there too - something deeper, something knowing.

I swallowed hard, heat curling low in my stomach. “Nope,” I said, voice a little too innocent. “Just enjoying the view.”

Merle groaned. “Man, I’m gonna be sick.”

I ignored him, because Daryl was still watching me, eyes dark, the same way they had been last night when he traced the wound on my side with his fingertips, when he kissed me slow, careful like I was the most important thing he’d ever touched.

When my eye candy had wandered out of view, my eyes fell on Sasha, who was currently in the process of unravelling.

I saw it in the way she sat on the steps of next door’s porch, elbows resting on her knees, staring at the dirt like she could bore a hole through it. Her rifle was beside her, fingers twitching toward it every few seconds, like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hold it or throw it across the street.

It hadn’t been long since she lost Noah. We were all mourning him – his energy had been infectious - but he was family, the last piece of her blood left after Tyreese died. And now, she felt like she had no one.

I walked over, dropping onto the step beside her, close enough that she knew I was there, but not enough to make her feel caged in. “Hey.”

Sasha didn’t look up. “Hey.”

I studied her, waiting for her to say more, but she didn’t. Her jaw was tight, her shoulders locked like she was ready to fight something, someone. But there was no fight to be had. Just grief, thick and suffocating.

“You eaten today?” I asked.

She scoffed. “Not hungry.”

I nudged her knee with mine. “Not what I asked.”

She shot me a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. After a long moment, she let out a breath and leaned forward, gripping her hair at the roots. “It’s like the world won’t let me stop losing people,” she muttered. “First Ty. Now Noah.”

“It's fucking shit...”

Silence stretched between us before she reached for her rifle and stood. “Gonna go check the walls.”

I didn’t argue. She needed space, but I kept an eye on her as she stalked away, shoulders squared like she was daring the world to take something else from her.

Then, something nearby caught my attention.

I caught sight of Carl standing a little ways off, watching a teenage girl – Enid – out of the corner of his eye. She was up in a tree, flipping through a book, pretending not to notice him, though she absolutely did.

Carl was standing there all casual, hands in his pockets, but I wasn’t fooled.

I grinned and leaned against the railing, calling out just loud enough for him to hear. “I see you, Grimes. Quit staring at her.”

Carl’s face turned bright red. “What? I’m not-”

“Oh, you so are.” I nudged him as I passed. “Just go and talk to her before she thinks you’re a total weirdo.”

He groaned, pulling his hat lower over his face, and I chuckled as he walked away.

~

Rick found a quarry earlier this afternoon.

It was filled with walkers - thousands of them, packed so tightly they practically crawled over each other. The only thing keeping them in place were a few crumbling tractor-trailers and sheer luck. And we already knew that luck didn’t last in this world.

Deanna called a community meeting, her faith in our group growing again since the shit show that was the meeting. Rick stood at the front, face set like stone, as he laid it out for everyone.

“This isn’t a problem we can ignore,” he said, voice firm. “It’s not a matter of if they break out - it’s when. We deal with it now, on our terms, or we wait for them to come crashing through our walls.”

A murmur ran through the crowd. The Alexandrians weren’t built for this kind of talk, but our people - our family - we understood it far too well.

Sasha was the first to step volunteet. “I’ll help lead them out.”

Rick hesitated, probably because she wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind, but Daryl nodded. “I got her.”

I guess that meant I had her, too.

“Me too,” Abraham said, stepping up beside Sasha.

Glenn volunteered next, but Maggie decided to stay back to keep an eye on things.

Then, of all people, Nicholas raised a hand. “I’ll help.”

My chest tightened, I didn’t trust Nicholas - and for good reason - but before I could argue, Deanna spoke up, noticing the tight expression on my face. “We need every capable person. If Nicholas wants to help, he helps.”

Wrong, Deanna...

That sorry excuse for a man won’t be putting any more of my family at risk, especially Daryl.

I was about to put him on blast right there, but somebody else beat me to speaking.

Carter, one of the Alexandrians, shook his head. “This is insane. We can’t do this.”

Rick stared him down. “We have to.”

Deanna nodded. “Rick’s right. This plan moves forward.”

I wasn’t listening anymore. I was watching Nicholas. He kept glancing at me when he thought I wasn’t looking, shifting his feet uncomfortably.

As he should. When I was back to full strength – I was going to make him pay for abandoning Noah.

~

Back at the armory, Rick gathered the team for the quarry mission, spreading a rough map out over the table.

Daryl kept eyeing me, and I knew he was worried about me being a part of this, but I was feeling much better. It would just be a trial run first... by the time the actual mission happened I should be back to full health.

Besides. He was the one who said he never wanted to be apart – so he couldn’t argue.

“We’re herding them west,” Rick said, tracing the path with his finger. “Away from Alexandria.”

Eugene scanned the map. “The intersection here,” he pointed to a crossroads along the route “could be a problem. If we don’t block it, some of them may peel off toward us.”

Rick turned to Carter. “Then we build a wall there.”

Carter swallowed, clearly wanting to protest, but nodded instead.

As we left the meeting, I made an excuse about helping Carol with something, but in reality – I just needed a moment to myself. Daryl hadn’t let me spend a second  alone since I’d left the infirmary – either he was with me, or he made sure someone else was. I loved it, loved how much he wanted to keep me safe, protected, but it came at a price.

I hadn’t had any time to reconcile with myself what had happened, what could have happened, the damage that had been done to my body and the damage that had been done to my husband. I may be the one bearing the worst physical wounds, but he’d believed me to be dead, and I could see how much that had shaken him.

Him being allowed to think I was gone – him searching for what he believed was my body, it broke my heart, truly and completely.

I could feel the emotion bubbling inside of me. I couldn’t keep it in for much longer and I wanted to be alone when it erupted. It would have hurt Daryl to know that - but I was trying to protect him. Seeing me break down would only crush his heart more. I loved him too much to let that happen.

Instead, I made my way through the streets of Alexandria, searching for a private spot where I could breathe, release. I rounded the corner behind one of the houses and was irritated to see Nicholas.

His mere existence irked me now, and I was becoming more tempted by the hour to shove something sharp and pointy through his forehead.

Nicholas stood with Deanna’s son Spencer, deep in conversation. I noticed the way he was shifting from foot to foot, his face pale in the low light. Something inside told me to stay out of sight, to listen in, so I did...

“They know,” Nicholas hissed, his voice barely more than a whisper. “She told him. I know she did.”

My blood ran cold. I knew they were talking about me.

Spencer scoffed. “You don’t know anything.”

Nicholas dragged a hand through his hair, pacing. “She must have. She had to. I mean, why wouldn’t she? She almost died out there. And if he-” He stopped, exhaling sharply. “Daryl’s not just gonna let that slide. You’ve seen the way he looks at her. If he knows-”

Spencer crossed his arms. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you left her for dead.”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Nicholas’ expression twisted. “I had to.”

Spencer raised a brow. “Had to?”

Nicholas swallowed, his voice dropping even lower. “If they saved her, she’d tell them about Noah. She’d tell them what I did - what I didn’t do. I mean, you get it, right?” His voice was frantic now. “I didn’t kill her, I just… I didn’t help. And if she was already under the rubble, what difference did it make?”

A sharp, callous laugh slipped from Spencer’s lips. “Jesus, man.”

Nicholas grabbed his arm. “I just – I need to know. Has he said anything? Has she?”

I took a step back, my breath catching.

Nicholas wanted me dead. Not just left behind in the heat of the moment. He chose to tell people I was gone, that he’s seen it happen. Made sure no one would come looking.

And now he was afraid... because he thought I’d already told Daryl.

Oh, he had no idea what was coming.

Every part of me wanted to launch myself at him right then and there, but that wasn’t they way this needed to be played. It had to be dealt with properly.

I turned on my heel and walked away, my heart pounding with each step.

I hadn’t told Daryl yet. But I was about to. I had to.

And when I did - Nicholas was a dead man walking.

~

I hesitated when I reached our bedroom door, my fingers pressing against the wood. My stomach was in knots, twisted tight with the weight of what I was about to say.

I wanted Nicholas to pay for what he’d done, of course I did, painfully, but it needed to be done properly, and I wasn’t sure Daryl would be able to control his anger.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows braced on his knees, rolling a bolt between his fingers. His crossbow leaned against the nightstand, always within reach.

I took a slow breath and stepped inside, shutting the door behind me.

His eyes flicked up immediately, sharp as a blade. “S'wrong?”

Because of course, he could tell. He always could.

I swallowed hard. “I need to tell you something. And I need to you listen to me before you lose it.”

His brow furrowed, shoulders pulling even tighter. “A’ight.”

I moved closer, sitting beside him, but I didn’t reach for him yet. Not until I got the words out.

“It’s about Nicholas.”

Daryl’s jaw flexed.

I wet my lips, forcing myself to say it. “He bailed before the explosion - abandoned Noah when the walkers were about to tear him apart.” I hesitated, then sighed. “I thought he’d lied about trying to save me because he was ashamed of being a coward..."

Daryl went still.

And that was worse than if he’d just started yelling.

The stillness meant danger. It meant that storm inside him was about to break.

I shook my head. “I just heard him tell Spencer he wanted people to think I was already dead.” I clenched my hands, nails digging into my palms. “He said I was dead because if somebody came to look for me, I’d be able to tell people he left Noah to die.”

Daryl’s breath came sharp through his nose. His fingers curled into fists so tight his knuckles cracked. Then, before I could stop him, he shot to his feet, snatching up his crossbow.

“M'gonna kill ‘im.”

“Daryl-”

He was already moving, boots heavy against the floor as he yanked open the door.

I lunged, grabbing at his arm. “Wait!”

His breath was ragged, his whole body rigid like a live wire. When he turned to me, his eyes were wild, burning. Rage incarnate.

“Ya tellin’ me he wanted people t’think ya were dead so nobody’d come lookin’ for ya?” he ground out, voice raw.

“He’s a disgrace.” I held on tighter. “But let’s just take a minute-”

His face twisted, fury barely leashed. “What if I hadn’t come? Huh?” He growled. “What if I couldn’t? If I’d come back later-” His breath hitched, like he was forcing himself to say it. “Ya’d lost so much blood-”

“It didn’t happen. You found me-”

His face was red, his chest rising and falling too fast. “Ya’d have died because of his bullshit!”

I reached for his face, holding it between my hands, forcing him to look at me.

“He’s a coward,” I whispered. “And I hate him for what he did to Noah. For letting you think I was gone-”

Daryl trembled beneath my hands, shaking with the effort to contain himself. But the words kept spilling from him like he couldn’t stop them, like he had to force them all out before they tore him apart from the inside.

“Didn’t just let everyone think it. He made ‘em fuckin’ believe it.” His voice was pure venom. “Nah. He’s payin’ for this."

I grabbed at his arm again. “Just listen. Please...”

He clenched his jaw so tight I could hear his teeth grinding, but he stopped. Just barely.

I took his hand, pressing it between mine. “I’m telling you now because I don’t want him putting anyone else at risk. And because of what I've just heard. But if you go after him like this, right now, kill him without talking to Rick, Deanna. Then what? You look like the bad guy.”

“Don’t give a shit.”

“Well, I do.” I tried to reason with him.

His nostrils flared. His whole body vibrated with barely restrained fury.

“Ath,” he rasped, his voice like gravel, like something broken and dangerous all at once. “He’s gotta pay.”

“He will.” I ran my thumb over his cheek, grounding him, pulling him back. “We’ll make him. You don’t think I want to? I do... This just isn’t the way.”

His breathing was still heavy, still too fast, but I could see the gears turning, feel his fingers twitching against my hips, holding onto me like I was the only thing keeping him from exploding.

I leaned up, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. He needed this. He needed me.

“I know you’re angry. I am too.” I murmured. “But if you do this now, he wins. He doesn’t get what’s coming to him.”

Daryl let out a shuddering breath against my mouth, his grip tightening like he was still convincing himself that I was really here - that Nicholas’ lie hadn’t taken me from him.

“I love you,” I whispered. “And I need you. Not locked up, not exiled. Here. With me.”

His forehead pressed against mine, and ever so slowly I felt the rage shift. It didn’t leave. Not by a long shot. But it seemed more contained. For now.

“We’ll talk to Rick,” he muttered, his voice rough. “But that asshole ain’t gettin’ away with this. If Rick don’t agree. Tough.”

~

The air in the house was suffocating, thick with the weight of anger. Daryl paced like a caged animal, every movement sharp, barely contained. Rick stood firm, arms crossed, trying to keep control of a situation that was seconds from breaking apart. And I was in the middle, caught between the fire and the restraint, knowing that Nicholas deserved to pay but also knowing that how we did this mattered.

“We go now,” Daryl growled. “Ain’t no talkin’, no waitin’.”

Rick exhaled sharply. “Not like this.”

Daryl turned on him, eyes blazing. “He wanted to make sure she died. You tellin’ me you’d be standin’ here talkin’ if it was Carl? Judith?”

Rick’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t flinch. “We handle it. But we do it right.”

I spoke before Daryl could snap again. “I want him to pay just as bad as you do.” I met his gaze, steady. “But we have to be smart about this.”

Daryl stared at me. “Smart?” His voice was razor-sharp. “What’s smart about lettin’ 'im breathe any longer?”

Rick turned to me then, his expression shifting as he observed Daryl's barely-contained rage. “You shoulda come to me first.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Before Daryl. Before anyone. You shoulda come to me.”

A short, humorless laugh escaped me. “Rick, he’s my husband.”

The second I said it, Daryl’s focus snapped back to Rick, his anger shifting like a storm changing direction. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Rick didn’t back down, but I could see him trying to choose his next words carefully. “It means we do this together.”

“Nah,” Daryl cut him off, stepping closer. “It means ya think my wife shouldn’t have come to me first. That it?”

Rick ran a hand over his beard, exhaling hard. “I’m sayin’ we needed to handle this right. I get it. She’s my family too. But we gotta think before we act.”

Daryl’s jaw clenched, his entire body wound tight, ready to snap. “Ya got somethin’ else to say?”

Daryl’s anger wasn’t at Rick, not really, but he was wound so tight that a wrong word from anyone would meet the lash of his tongue right now.

Before Rick could answer, a slow clap sounded from the doorway.

“Well, ain’t this a damn sight.”

Merle.

He leaned against the frame, watching us like we were the most entertaining thing he’d seen all week. “Brother, I think Officer Friendly’s tryna tell ya how to handle yur own damn marriage.”

Rick shot him a look. “Not now, Merle.”

Merle smirked, stepping further inside. “Not now? I’d say now’s the perfect time. ‘Cause from where I’m standin’, we got ourselves a whole lotta talkin’ ‘n’ not enough dealin’.”

Daryl ignored him, still locked onto Rick. “She’s my wife.

Rick shook his head. “This is about the safety of the group, Daryl.”

“The hell it is,” Merle muttered.

I stepped between them, my voice sharp enough to cut through the tension. “We do this right,” I said, looking at Daryl. “But we still do it.”

Daryl ran a hand over his face, breathing hard. I could see him trying to rein himself in. Finally, he gave a single nod.

“We take it to Deanna. Now.” Rick announced.

Merle snorted. “This oughta be fun.”

“You’re not coming, Merle.”

“The hell I ain’t!” he spat at Rick. “That’s my sister now. I’m comin’.”

Rick looked to Daryl, who nodded once in approval.

~

Deanna’s house felt too polished, too perfect - like a stage set up for a performance.

Rick walked in first, his shoulders squared like he was already prepared for a fight. I wasn’t as patient. My blood was boiling, and I was ready to set the whole damn place on fire if I had to.

Daryl was a live wire beside me,  and I knew this was going to get ugly. Merle, on the other hand, was too calm - too amused - which meant he was waiting for the right moment to snap.

Deanna sat at her table, eyes sunken from her own grief, a glass of whiskey in front of her, as if she already knew what was coming.

Rick didn’t waste time. “We need to talk.”

Deanna met his eyes and nodded. “About Nicholas?”

Daryl let out a bitter laugh, but there wasn’t a damn ounce of humor in it. “So ya already know?”

Deanna exhaled, slow and measured. “I know there are… inconsistencies in his story.” Her voice was calm, but something dark lurked beneath it. “Why don’t you tell me what you know?”

I stepped forward, fists clenched so hard my nails dug into my palms. My voice came out low, steady - but barely.

“He left Noah to die. Didn’t even try to save him. And then? He told everyone that I was dead.” My fingers twitched, aching to break something. “He lied to cover his own damn ass - because if someone went looking for me, they’d find out what he did.”

Daryl’s hands trembling at his sides. He took one step forward, then another, then suddenly -

CRASH.

His fist went through the nearest shelf, sending books and glass clattering to the floor.

“Daryl.” I grabbed his arm, but he ripped away from me, breathing like a man ready to kill.

“He left ya to die!” His voice was raw, and there was nothing left of his restraint. “This is bullshit.” His chest heaved, veins bulging in his neck. “He should be dead already.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and something inside my chest twisted so hard I thought I might collapse under the weight of it.

I reached for him again, but he was already turning on Deanna, his eyes burning like goddamn fire. “So what’re ya gonna do? Huh?! Nothin’?!”

Deanna didn’t even flinch.

“I know what kind of man Nicholas is,” she said, voice cold. “I know he’s a coward.”

I let out a laugh, stepping forward until my hands were flat on the table, leaning in close. “A coward?” My voice was shaking. “He didn’t just run away, Deanna. He let a kid die screaming. He looked me in the eye before we left on that run and acted like he was some big-shot survivor, and when things went south? He didn’t just panic - he looked Noah in the eye before leaving him to die!”

Something flickered in Deanna’s eyes.

“Then, he let my husband think I was already dead.”

She lifted her glass and took a slow sip. “And what would you like me to do about it?”

Daryl snarled. Actually snarled. “Give ‘im to me.”

Merle laughed, but it was cold. “Oh yeah, I second that. Let us handle this.”

Rick exhaled sharply, rubbing his jaw, but he didn’t disagree.

Deanna watched us, eyes calculating. Then, slowly, she leaned back in her chair.

“We need numbers,” she murmured. “We need people who know how to fight. People who don’t run when things get hard. People who don’t leave others behind.” Her gaze flicked toward me for half a second. “People who don’t lie.”

My stomach leapt.

She wasn’t defending him. She wasn’t stopping us either.

Rick shifted beside me. “You’re sayin’… if somethin’ happened to him…”

Deanna tilted her head. “It’s a big community.” A slow breath. “People go missing.”

Daryl’s entire body was shaking, his breath heaving, hands curled so tight into fists I thought he might break his own bones.

Merle was grinning like it was Christmas morning.“Now that is interestin’,” he drawled, flipping his knife between his fingers.

Daryl’s chest heaved. His nostrils flared. “He don’t get to walk away from this.”

Deanna met his gaze, voice eerily calm. “No. He doesn’t. Something tells me he didn’t do anything to try prevent my son’s death either.”

Silence.

I couldn’t believe she was on our side with this.

Daryl’s eyes were still wild, his jaw clenched so tight I could hear his teeth grinding. But my hand on his arm settled him - just enough.

His voice was low, barely human. “He gets what's comin' to 'im.”

I exhaled slowly, looking back at Deanna. "You won’t be able to pretend you don’t know.”

Deanna didn’t blink. “I've no interested in pretending anything.”

And just like that, the conversation was over.

We left in silence, stepping into the quiet Alexandria streets.

Daryl was still shaking. Still too close to the edge.

Merle chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Well, hell,” he mused. “Looks like we get to have ourselves a little fun.”

Rick’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue.

~

Nicholas didn’t scream when they dragged him from his bed.

I wasn’t sure if it was shock or instinct, but either way, he didn’t make a sound as Daryl and Merle wrenched him from his sheets and shoved a hand over his mouth.

I was envious of how they threw him around, their hands purposely painful against his skin. I longed to take my rage out on him too, but my injuries, my stitches, they wouldn’t allow it. I had to settle for enjoying the show.

I followed silently as they pulled him through the darkened streets of Alexandria. The houses stood still, unaware, indifferent. Inside, people slept soundly in their warm beds, never knowing that justice was being dragged between them, half-dressed and shivering, his pulse pounding loud enough to echo in the silence.

He knew why this was happening.

Daryl knew what he’d done.

And now he was going to pay.

The garage door of the empty house we’d selected groaned open, and before Nicholas could get his bearings, Merle shoved him inside. His knees hit the concrete hard, and he yelped in pain before Daryl grabbed him by the collar and forced him into a chair.

I stepped inside last, shutting the door behind me.

Nicholas’ wild, panicked eyes darted around the garage - and then landed on Rick.

“Rick,” Nicholas choked, his voice thick with desperation. “Rick, please - you can’t let them do this."

Rick stood in the corner, arms crossed. He didn’t move.

“I - I was scared,” Nicholas stammered. “I didn’t know what to do - I panicked-”

Rick pushed off the wall and stepped past us, heading for the door.

Nicholas thrashed against the chair. “Rick! Rick! Aren’t you going to stop this!?”

Rick didn’t turn back.

“Stop what?” he asked, voice flat.

Then he was gone, just like Daryl had requested.

This was a Dixon matter.

Nicholas was breathing fast now, his panic rising. His gaze swung to me next, pleading.

I didn’t say a word.

Daryl turned to me. “Ath, ya don’t need to see this.” He mumbled quietly.

“I think you'll find, I do.” I told him adamantly in response.

Daryl nodded in understanding, then stepped toward Nicholas, looming, radiating a darkness that made my chest hurt.

Merle cracked his knuckles, grinning. “Yur about to see what happens when ya mess with the Dixons, boy.”

Nicholas started to sob. “Please, I - I didn’t mean -”

Daryl hit him so hard his head snapped to the side.

Blood sprayed against the floor.

He grabbed the front of Nicholas’ shirt and wrenched him upright. “Ya left her to die,” he seethed, voice raw with fury.

Nicholas’ lips trembled, but no words came.

Daryl shoved him back, then hit him again.

“Ya told Rick she was dead,” he snarled. “Ya let me believe my wife was gone.”

Nicholas gasped for breath, blood dripping from his nose.

“She wasn’t dead,” Daryl growled. “She was trapped. Hurt. Bleedin’. And ya tried makin’ damn sure no one would go lookin’.”

Merle let out a low whistle. “I don’t think he’s quite gettin’ it lil brother.” He rolled his shoulders. “Guess that means it’s my turn, huh?”

Daryl didn’t even look at him. He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth. “Get out.” He ordered.

Merle blinked. “The fuck?”

Daryl turned. And the look in his eyes made even Merle hesitate.

“I said go.”

Merle scoffed. “The hell’s this? We both got a right to be here.”

“No.” Daryl’s voice was ice-cold. “This ain’t ‘bout ya.” He took a step closer, and his whole body was rigid, wound tight, I could see the tremors in his hands. “This is about her.”

A lump rose in my throat.

Merle’s jaw clenched, and for a second, I thought he might argue. But something in Daryl’s stance, the way his fingers flexed like he was barely holding himself back, made him shake his head instead.

“Fine,” Merle muttered, pushing past him toward the door. He paused before stepping out. “No goin’ easy on ‘im brother.”

Nicholas whimpered, his breath hitching as blood bubbled from his busted lip. His swollen eyes darted around the garage, looking for a way out that didn’t exist.

Daryl had been holding himself back, barely keeping his rage in check, but I saw it in his stance, in the way his chest heaved, in the way his fingers curled and uncurled like they ached to rip Nicholas apart.

He wasn’t done.

Neither was I.

Now it was just the three of us.

Nicholas shifted in the chair, bound wrists straining against the rope. “You’re - you’re not gonna kill me,” he stammered, forcing a weak chuckle through bloodied teeth. “Rick - Rick wouldn’t let you.”

Daryl scoffed. He crouched low, right in Nicholas’ face, his fingers gripping the arms of the chair. “Rick ain’t here.”

Nicholas swallowed hard, his whole body trembling. “I - I didn’t mean for her to die,” he gasped out. “I swear! I was scared! You don’t understand,

Daryl’s fist snapped out, connecting hard with Nicholas’ jaw. His head whipped to the side, and blood splattered onto the concrete floor.

Daryl snarled, shaking his head. “Don’t lie to me.”

Nicholas coughed, blood and spit dripping down his chin. “I – I -”

“Shut up.” Daryl grabbed a fistful of Nicholas’ shirt and yanked him forward. His voice was low, shaking with fury. “Ya wanted her to die.”

Nicholas’ swollen eyes flickered to me for the briefest second before darting away.

“Look at her.” Daryl shook him roughly. “Look at her.”

Nicholas forced himself to meet my gaze, and I saw it - the guilt, the fear, the knowledge that he’d been caught, that there was no way out of this.

I stepped forward, my voice eerily calm. “You’re not just a coward Nicholas.”

His whole body flinched.

“You didn’t just leave me,” I said, my heart pounding, rage thrumming beneath my skin. “You wanted me dead. You made sure I wouldn’t make it out of there. You-” My voice broke with the weight of it, with the memory of being trapped, bleeding, waiting for death that never came. “You let my husband think I was already gone.”

Daryl tensed beside me. “I went to bring her body home,” he murmured, voice thick with barely contained fury. “D’ya have any idea what that was like?”

Nicholas was shaking now, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Please-”

Daryl hit him again, knuckles cracking against bone.

I didn’t stop him.

Nicholas let out a wet, choking sound, head lolling forward.

Daryl stood over him, chest heaving, fingers twitching with the need to do more. His whole body was trembling with rage, with vengance, with love.

And then, finally, his voice dropped to a whisper.

“Ya tried to take her from me.”

Nicholas whimpered.

Daryl reached for his knife.

He flipped it once in his hand, testing the weight of it, the blade catching the dim light of the garage.

Nicholas’ breath stuttered. “Fuck y-”

The knife plunged deep.

Nicholas jerked, a strangled gasp escaping him as Daryl twisted the blade. His mouth opened, but no sound came out - just blood bubbling at his lips.

Daryl didn’t say a word. He didn’t hesitate.

He pulled the knife free, and Nicholas slumped forward, lifeless, his body sagging in the chair.

Silence filled the garage, thick and suffocating.

Daryl let out a slow, unsteady breath, his bloody fingers twitching around the handle of the knife. He was shaking, his chest rising and falling in deep, ragged breaths.

I stepped closer. My hand found his.

His fingers curled around mine, holding on tight.

He turned to look at me and the weight of what he’d just done – for me, for us, for Alexandria – hit me in the gut.

I cupped his face, brushing my thumbs over his cheekbones, wiping away a streak of blood that wasn’t his. His breath was warm against my skin, his body still wound tight with everything that had just happened.

But when I leaned in, pressing my forehead to his, he exhaled.

A shuddering, broken breath.

It was over.

A/N: This chapter has taken me forever to write. I just can't re-read it again. I'm so sorry for any typos. I need sleep... 🤣

What do you think of Nicholas' comeuppance? I went back and forth a lot with this one.