No More Waiting

The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of Daryl’s breathing. His arms were still wrapped around me, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Normally, I would have let that lull me to sleep - the warmth of him, the weight of his body grounding me. But not tonight. Not after the battle.

Sleep never came. My mind wouldn’t let it.

Negan’s voice echoed through my thoughts, his laughter still twisted in my memories. I saw the blood on the ground, Hershel and Abraham's mangled bodies. Sasha's snarling face. Carl’s gunshot wound. My gunshot wound.

And Daryl. The haunted look in his eyes whenever Negan’s name was spoken. The bruises that once lined his skin from endless torture. The days he spent locked in that cell, stripped of his freedom, his dignity - and his hope.

He held me tighter in his sleep, his face softened in the shadows. My fingers traced along his jaw, memorizing every scar, every line. He was so beautiful, even with the world weighing down on him.

My heart clenched. He didn’t deserve any of this. Neither of us did.

But what twisted inside me most was what Negan had taken from us - our unborn child. The one we never even got to know was growing inside me. Negan didn’t just take lives. He shattered the futures we all dreamed of.

The anger bubbled beneath my ribs, a storm I couldn’t contain. I wanted to stay here. I wanted to soak in the comfort of Daryl’s arms and pretend, just for a little while, that the world outside didn’t exist.

But I couldn’t.

Negan was still out there.

I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Daryl’s forehead. He stirred slightly, his brow twitching, but he didn’t wake. My hand lingered on his face, tracing the curve of his cheek.

“I love you,” I whispered.

The words caught in my throat. He should’ve been awake to hear them. But it was better this way.

I slipped from his grasp carefully, holding my breath as the warmth of his body left mine. The chill in the air hit instantly, but I ignored it. My boots rested by the door. The gun and ammo belt sat beneath my jacket. Every step I took felt heavier than the last.

Just go back. Lay down with him.

But I didn’t.

I made my way through the darkened halls of Barrington House, the air thick with the smell of blood and sweat. People were sprawled on the floor, their blankets tangled, their breathing labored. Some still groaned in pain, even in their sleep.

The worst of the wounded had been taken to the bedrooms, but there weren’t enough to go around. The uninjured had surrendered their spaces for the suffering. Alexandria. The Kingdom. Hilltop. We were all just people now - people trying to survive.

Guilt twisted through me as I stepped over the curled forms of the sleeping. I recognized some of them - Michonne, Annie, Jerry. People I’d fought beside. They’d given so much. We all had. And still, Negan wasn’t gone.

I reached the doors, the shadows growing darker. A faint chill carried through the air as I crept to the escape hatch Sasha had created during her time at the Hilltop. She’d told me it might be useful one day.

The hatch creaked as I lifted it, the hinges protesting. I winced, waiting, listening. But no one came. One glance over my shoulder, one last moment of hesitation - then I climbed through.

The cool night bit at my skin, but it couldn’t chill the fire that burned beneath it. Hilltop’s walls loomed behind me, the guards none the wiser. I trudged forward, my pulse pounded with every step.

I reached the truck. The same one Daryl and I had sat on the hood of earlier, trading chuckles and embracing each other. The last place we’d shared a moment of peace before the Saviors struck yet again.

My stomach twisted. The guilt came crashing down, heavier than before. He’d held me. Kept me close. He'll have thought I’d still be in his arms by morning.

And now, I was sneaking away from him.

But I couldn’t stop. Not now.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to the wind. Whether it was for him, for myself, or for what I was about to do - I wasn’t sure.

I climbed into the truck, the door shutting with a dull thud. My hands shook as I hotwired it, the engine growling to life beneath me. The sound was loud, too loud, but no one came.

One last glance back in the direction of Hilltop. One last thought of Daryl’s arms around me.

Then I drove.

Negan wouldn’t get away this time.

~

The truck rumbled beneath me, its headlights cutting through the dark. My chest burned with the weight of what I was doing. Every mile I put between myself and Hilltop – between me and Daryl - twisted a deeper knot in my gut.

He would wake up soon. Maybe he already had. I could see it in my mind - the moment he’d reach for me and find nothing but the sheets. I hated the thought of that panic settling in his chest.

But I hated Negan more.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, the hum of the tires a steady pulse against my palms. Images of the Sanctuary flashed through my mind. The sight of Daryl, beaten and alone. The way they’d stripped him of everything and tried to break him. Then, the pit in my stomach worsened – what would’ve been our baby. The life I’d lost. The ache of it consumed me.

Negan needed to pay. Not later. Not when the next ambush came. Now.

The road narrowed ahead, dark silhouettes of trees towering on either side. I barely noticed the gas station ruins when I pulled over, knowing I couldn't risk going any further in the truck without being seen - I was close now. My hands shook as I killed the engine. The silence that followed was deafening.

I slung my rifle over my shoulder, stepping out into the night. Gravel crunched beneath my boots. There was no second-guessing, no room for it.

~

The night was too damn quiet. Just the hum of the truck cooling and the wind rustling through the trees. Every sound made me glance over my shoulder. Maybe I thought I’d see Negan’s evil face staring back. Maybe I hoped I would.

The weight of the gun at my side felt like the only steady thing. I adjusted the strap, swallowing down the guilt that gnawed at me. Daryl could be awake by now. He might know I was gone. But he’d have tried to stop me or wanted to come too.

I couldn’t let him. Not after everything.

I hadn’t made it far when I heard it.

The roar of a motorcycle flying impossibly fast toward me.

I spun, my hand instinctively flying to my gun despite knowing who it was. My heart pounded.

Daryl.

He jerked the bike to a stop, throwing himself off and not even bothering to stop the machine from crashing down onto the gravel.

His eyes burned. Even in the dark, I could see it - the wild, furious gleam. His chest rose and fell with frantic breaths. Sweat dampened his hair, his face was scowling.

“What the fuck Athena!?” He roared.

I froze, my stomach knotting. I hadn’t expected him to catch up so quickly.

“Go back,” I said, though the words felt weak. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He took another step, his glare pinning me in place. “And ya should!?” His voice was full of venom, rough and biting. “Just gonna sneak off!? Face ‘im on ya own!?”

“I had to.” My voice broke. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

Daryl barked a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Ya think I ain’t been waitin’ too!? Every goddamn day, hopin’ this would be over!? Ya think I don’t want him dead!?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what the hell did ya mean!?” He was pacing now, his boots kicking up dirt. “Just ran off to get ya’self killed!? ‘Cause that’s what this is - suicide!”

“You don’t understand!” I spat, the anger bubbling up. “He’s taken everything from us! Our family, our home...” Tears welled in my eyes. “...Our baby. And he’s still out there like none of it even fucking matters!”

Daryl’s jaw clenched. “I get it,” he growled. “I get it more than anyone.” His voice cracked, and the flash of pain in his eyes gutted me. “But this? Ya out here alone? That’s how we lose more.”

“I’m not afraid,” I shot back.

“Well, I am!” His voice boomed, sending birds fluttering from the trees. “I’m afraid of findin’ ya fuckin’ dead!”

The words hit like a slap. My chest burned, and I tried to steady my breath, but Daryl wasn’t done.

“Ya think I don’t know what it’s like!? I see him every goddamn night! Hear that damn whistle! Feel those cell walls closin’ in again!” His fists clenched harder. “I think about what he's done! What he’s taken!”

His voice shook. “But runnin’ off on ya own? That ain’t justice. That’s ya lettin’ 'im win.”

“I’m not letting him win!” I screamed, tears burning in my eyes. “I’m trying to end it!”

“'N' what?” Daryl’s face twisted in frustration. “Ya think I can survive losin’ ya now too?”

“You've survived everything else.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

“Not like this!” he shot back. “Not without ya!”

The silence that followed was deafening. My breath caught, the tears finally spilling down my cheeks.

“I wasn’t thinking straight,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “But I couldn’t wait anymore. I needed it done.”

Daryl’s face contorted with pain. “'N' what?” He shook his head, stepping closer. “Ya didn’t think I’d come straight after ya? That I’d tear through every last one of ‘em if it meant bringin’ ya home?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“This ain’t how it happens. Not like this.” His voice lowered, rough but firm. “Ath... do ya really think I wouldn’t have come with ya?”

I dropped my head, no longer able to look at him. “You wouldn’t have let me go.”

He released a frustrated breath. “I wouldn’t have wanted ya to. I’d have tried to stop ya... I know I prob’ly couldn’t’a - but like hell would I not have been by ya side.”

I pushed my hand against my mouth, trying to stifle the emotion making my body feel like it would burst.

“If yur goin’ after him,” Daryl breathed, “then I’m goin’ too.”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Ya think I’m gonna stand by, waitin’ to hear my wife’s dead?” He stepped closer, his chest nearly brushing mine. “Nah. If we do this, we do it together. Or not at all.”

The fire in his eyes burned into mine. And I knew he meant it.

I felt crushed by my guilt. How could I have thought I could do this without him? Why did I think slipping away as he slept was acceptable? I wasn’t thinking straight, I thought I was protecting him - but that didn’t make it okay.

“I'm sorry,” I breathed. “I was being an idiot. I didn’t mean to scare you. You’re angry...”

“Damn right I am.” He reached out, his shaky hand brushing along my jaw. “But I was damn afraid more. Ath, I woke up to ya just gone...”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, leaning into his touch.

“I’m so sorry.” I sobbed as he pulled me into him, his heart still pounding and his body still rigid with rage and fear.

“It’s me ‘n’ ya. We do it together.”

I squeezed him tight, feeling like the worst wife in the world. “So we end it,” I whispered.

Daryl nodded, his hand clutching my hair a little too tight. “We end it.”

We climbed onto the bike without another word. The truck forgotten. This would be dangerous, but there was no turning back. The Sanctuary waited. And this time, we were bringing the fight to Negan.

A/N: Thank you so much for your votes and comments. ❤️