Aches

Daryl wasn’t happy about me being anywhere near the bridge reconstruction Rick had organized. Crews from Hilltop, The Kingdom, Alexandria, Oceanside, and even the Saviors were working together - a fragile alliance that Rick was determined to maintain. Tensions were high, and Rick had asked Daryl for his help, trusting him to keep things from boiling over.

When Daryl first brought it up, his brow furrowed, I could see the worry etched in every line of his face.

“Ain’t safe,” he’d muttered, shaking his head. “Saviors around... too far from home.

But I stood my ground, my hands resting lightly on the small but undeniable bump that had grown over the past months. “I still have another month to go, Daryl. And I want to be with you. It might not be as comfortable as home, but I can handle it.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but I pressed on.

“Besides, Rick needs you. The Saviors are... unpredictable. Rosita’s doing a hell of a job keeping the peace, but she can’t be everywhere at once. You should say yes.”

“Mhmh.” Was his only response.

“But you need me with you. I know you. You wouldn’t be able to focus if you were worried about me being here.”

He hated how much sense I made. His jaw clenched, but his arms came around me, his hands instinctively settling on my belly. “Ain’t gonna be easy.”

“Since when has anything ever been easy for us?”

A reluctant smile tugged at his lips, and I knew I’d won.

The camp itself wasn’t much - makeshift tents, rows of tools and equipment, and the distant sound of hammers striking wood. The bridge had been partially rebuilt, but there was still a long way to go. Workers trudged back and forth across the structure, their faces streaked with sweat and dirt.

Daryl kept me close, his protective nature on full display. Every time we passed a Savior, his hand tightened around mine. But I wasn’t worried. Not with him at my side.

I did my best to stay out of the way, helping where I could, but Daryl barely let me lift a finger. Every time I tried, he was there, ushering me toward a chair or reminding me that I wasn’t supposed to be on my feet for too long.

“Daryl, I was doing all of this before we even knew I was pregnant.”

“Yeah? Well, now we know. So sit.”

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips. Truthfully, I didn’t mind. Every time he placed his hands on my stomach, whispered something to our little one, or simply rested his head against me at night, I knew just how much this meant to him. We were building something so much more than a bridge. We were building a future.

Tonight, the sun was just starting to set, casting long shadows across the camp as the distant sound of hammering and chatter still echoed through the air. Daryl sat beside me on the worn tree stump we’d claimed as our usual spot, his arm draped protectively over my shoulders. The cool evening breeze rustled through the trees, and I let out a soft sigh, resting my hands against the gentle curve of my belly.

“I can’t believe we haven’t met baby Hershel yet,” I murmured, leaning my head against his shoulder.

Daryl gave a small grunt of agreement. “Yeah...” His voice softened at the name. “Hershel would’ve been real proud.”

“He would’ve,” I echoed. My heart ached for Maggie, for the bittersweet joy she must have felt naming her son after her father.

I shifted, looking up at Daryl. “Do you think things would be okay here without you for a couple of days? Maybe we could head to Hilltop and finally meet him.”

His brows furrowed, concern flickering in his eyes. “Ya sure yur up to it? Ride ain’t exactly smooth.”

I smiled, brushing my fingers through his hair. “I’m fine. It’s not that far... please.”

He studied me for a moment, his gaze lingering on the bump beneath my hands. The protective instinct that never seemed to leave him was written all over his face, but eventually, he nodded.

“Alright,” he agreed, though his fingers gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. “But we’re stoppin’ plenty along the way. No rush.”

“Deal,” I grinned.

He let out a small chuckle, but then his expression grew serious again. “Bridge should be finished in a week or so. But even if it ain’t… We’re done. I’m takin’ ya back home before the baby gets here. Siddiq said he'll be at Alexandria a week before you're due date, at least.”

“Daryl,” I laughed, resting my forehead against his. “I’ve still got another month to go.”

“Don’t care,” he murmured, brushing his lips softly against mine. “Want ya back home.”

I couldn’t argue with that. The stubbornness in his tone was matched only by the fierce love in his eyes. And honestly, knowing how much he wanted to keep us safe only made me love him more.

“Okay,” I whispered, my fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt. “But for now, we’re going to Hilltop.”

A small smirk pulled at his lips. “Mhmh.”

~

The air was cool as we prepared to set off to the Hilltop the following morning, a faint mist lingering around the camp, but the promise of a warm day hanging in the breeze. Daryl had already loaded the saddlebags on his bike, making sure we had enough supplies for the road. I caught him giving the bags one last unnecessary tug, the furrow in his brow proof of how much he hated the idea of even a short journey with me in my current state.

And that was without him knowing I’d woken in the night with pain in my back. It was still coming and going, but I didn’t mention it - my body was changing was all, and I knew if I told him he’d call off our visit.

“Y’know, I'm not gonna break,” I teased, resting a hand on my bump as I walked toward him.

He grunted, his hands lingering on the straps. “Wanna be sure is all.”

I reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “It’s only a few hours. I can handle a ride on the back of your bike.”

His lips twitched into a smile, but I could still see the worry lingering in his eyes.

“Ya let me know if anything feels off. We can turn right around.”

“I will,” I promised, placing a hand on his chest. “But we’re gonna be just fine.”

Satisfied, or as close as he could get, he leaned in and kissed me, his hand resting protectively over my stomach as always.

“A’ight. Let’s go see that kid.”

The engine rumbled to life beneath us, the familiar vibration settling me as I wrapped my arms around Daryl’s waist, the slightest bit further back than usual to accommodate our little Baby Dixon. I could feel the tension in his muscles even as we pulled away from the camp. He kept the speed low, his eyes constantly scanning the road ahead. The countryside blurred past us, the trees swaying gently in the morning breeze.

Every now and then, Daryl would reach down, his hand brushing against mine, a silent check-in. I gave his side a reassuring squeeze in response, feeling nothing but excitement for the day ahead. Soon enough, we’d be standing at the Hilltop gates, greeting Maggie and Glenn and finally holding little Hershel in our arms.

“You alright back there?” he called over the hum of the bike.

“Yup,” I answered, resting my cheek against his back.

We pulled over near a small cluster of trees for a break when we reached more or less halfway. I'd been feeling slight ripples of discomfort through me. Nothing alarming, just a dull ache low in my belly - the kind I’d shrugged off a handful of times since yesterday – to go with my sore back. Daryl slid me off the bike, adjusting my jacket over the curve of my belly, which seemed to grow rounder by the day.

His eyes narrowed before my feet had fully touched the ground. He watched closely as I stretched, trying to shake off the stiffness. I could feel his gaze trailing me, sharp with concern.

“Ya alright?” he asked.

I plastered on a smile, hoping it would be enough to put him at ease. “Yeah, fine. Just needed to stretch a little.”

His expression didn’t waver. Daryl wasn’t one to be fooled easily, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to be now. He stepped closer, his hand instinctively brushing over the swell of my belly. “Ath.”

“I’m fine, really.” I leaned into him slightly, finding comfort in his presence. But I knew I couldn’t hide everything from him. Not now. “Maybe just a few twinges. Nothing major.”

His jaw tightened. “Twinges?”

“It’s nothing,” I insisted softly. “It happens. Just my body getting ready.”

He searched my face, his blue eyes narrowing with worry. “Ya sure?”

I hesitated, which was all the answer he needed. Daryl’s hands gripped my arms gently, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against my skin.

“Ya shoulda told me,” he murmured, his voice on edge. “We can turn back. Don’t gotta push through if ya ain’t feelin’ right.”

“No,” I shook my head. “We’re already halfway. I want to keep going.”

He was silent for a moment, weighing my words. I could see the conflict etched into every line on his face. Daryl didn’t like the idea of taking any risks - not with me, not with the baby. But he also knew how much this trip meant to me.

“A’ight,” he finally said, though his voice was gruff. “But if anythin’ changes, ya gotta tell me.”

“Deal.”

He gave me one last lingering look before brushing a few stray strands of hair from my face. Then he kissed my forehead, his lips lingering like a silent vow.

“C’mon,” he said softly. “Let’s get ya there.”

I nodded, taking his hand as he helped me back onto the bike. But even as we started off again, the worry never fully left his face. And deep down, I was starting to get a little nervous, too.

~

The rumble of the bike beneath us had always been something comforting - the steady growl of the engine, the familiar warmth of Daryl’s body in front of me. But now, it wasn’t enough to distract me from the dull aches that had grown more insistent.

Another sharp pang twisted low in my belly, and I bit down on my lip. The wind whipped against my face, but sweat still dampened my skin. It had only been about half an hour since our last stop, and I knew Daryl was already keeping a close eye on me. If I asked to pull over again, he’d worry. But the ache didn’t seem to be letting up.

I tried to shift in my seat, finding little relief. My hands gripped his jacket a little tighter, though I said nothing. Just another mile. Maybe I just needed to stretch more. Breathe through it. But the next twinge came sooner. Stronger.

Finally, I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Daryl,” I called, my voice barely carrying over the roar of the engine.

He didn’t hesitate. The bike slowed, and within moments, we were easing off to the side of the road. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as he cut the engine. The sudden quiet was jarring.

“Ya okay?” He twisted to face me, brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah,” I lied, wincing slightly as I swung my leg off the bike with his help. “Just need to stretch again.”

He wasn’t buying it. “That’s bullshit, Ath.” His hands hovered as if he wanted to steady me. “Ya ain’t right. We shouldn’t’a come.”

I sighed, my hands settling over my belly. “I’ve just been having some aches. They’re probably just those fake contractions... Braxton whatever.”

“Prob’ly?” His eyes narrowed. “How bad?”

“Not bad. Just… stronger than before.” I forced a smile, though even I didn’t believe it. “It’ll pass.”

Daryl shook his head, pulling a walkie from his pocket. "Anyone receivin'?" He said into it, being met with nothing but static. "Siddiq..?" He tried again. Nothing.

“We’re close to Hilltop,” I reminded him gently. “Let’s just see how it goes.”

Reluctantly, he nodded. But the tension in his jaw told me he wasn’t convinced. He tried the walkie again, to no avail.

We got back on the bike, the ride resuming. I tried to focus on the passing trees, the endless stretch of road. But my body had other plans. The aches sharpened, coming and going in waves. I pressed my forehead against Daryl’s shoulder, willing the pain away.

Then it happened.

A sudden warmth. A rush.

For a moment, I thought I was imagining it. But the unmistakable sensation sent a jolt of fear through me. I pulled back, heart pounding.

“Daryl!” My voice was more urgent this time.

He didn’t hesitate, the bike skidding to a halt once more. He swung off, immediately reaching for me.

“What is it!?”

I looked down, the dampness spreading through my jeans making it painfully clear.

“My waters just broke.”

A/N: You know Baby Dixon just has to make a dramatic entrance, right?