Branches

We’d been listening all night.

Aside from a few bathroom breaks and the ten minutes Daryl left to check on Jesus and Rosita in the med trailer, we’d barely moved from our spot outside the cellar window.

But Lydia hadn’t said anything useful. Not really. Just broken pieces of her past. Something about her dad being cruel. Her mom shielding her. It was all too vague, too scattered. Nothing that helped us find Alden and Luke - or figure out what the hell we were really dealing with.

“Ya should get some sleep,” Daryl murmured as the sun rose, his voice low and gravelly.

I shook my head and leaned into him, resting my temple against the warm fabric of his shirt. “Not a chance. The whole point of coming here was to be with you. Tara’s taking over soon anyway. We’ll rest together.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, lingering there like he didn’t want to pull away. “Stubborn ass,” he muttered with a smirk. “When I finally get ya in bed, I ain’t lettin’ ya back out.”

I smiled, cheeks flushing. “I like having you to myself in bed here. No kids barging in. Nobody demanding snacks. Just us."

He chuckled, but his smile faltered. “Yeah… missin’ ’em, though.”

“Me too.”

Then, through the cracked window, Lydia’s voice rose above the silence.

“Is your second mom the one who found you?”

“No,” Henry replied. “That was my dad. Ezekiel. My second dad.”

“Why isn’t he here with your mom?”

“They lead another community - back home.”

“Is it far?”

“It’s called the Kingdom. Probably a day’s ride from here.”

I froze. “Shit,” I whispered.

Shut up, Henry.

Daryl didn’t hesitate. He was already on his feet and flying down the stairs. I followed just as Henry’s shocked voice echoed up the steps.

“Wait... you were listening?”

Daryl shoved open the cellar door and dragged Henry out by the arm, jaw tight, fury radiating off him. “The hell’s wrong with ya?” he snapped. “Tellin’ her about the Kingdom? Ya got family there!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think-”

“No, you didn’t.” I crossed my arms, stepping beside Daryl. “Of course we were listening. We needed to know what she’d say.”

Henry’s expression twisted with betrayal. “You were using me?”

“Yeah,” Daryl said, cold and blunt. “And it was workin’, too.”

The tension between us was thick and bitter, but it shattered a second later when Glenn came racing through the gates with Magna, Yumiko, Connie, and Kelly.

His face told me everything before he even spoke. “No sign of them,” he said. “But we found their horses.”

Daryl’s whole body went rigid.

“Sliced open,” Glenn added grimly. “Half-skinned. Knives. Not walkers.”

Daryl didn’t say a word. He just turned and strode back down into the cellar.

I followed him down, heart pounding.

Lydia didn’t even flinch when we stepped inside.

“You finally come to kill me?” she asked, voice flat.

Daryl held up a bottle containing a few pills. “It’s for ya ear. Ya keep pullin’ at it like it hurts.”

Even in a moment like this, my sweet husband still didn't want to see a young girl in pain. He must’ve gotten the meds earlier when he checked on Jesus.

Lydia didn’t respond.

“No?” Daryl snapped, voice sharper. “I don’t give a shit.”

I crossed my arms and stepped forward. “Two of our people are missing. We found their horses. Half-eaten. Half-skinned. You know anything about that?”

“I’ve been in here,” she muttered. “How could I?”

“What would yur mom do if she ran into our people?” Daryl asked. “Would she kill 'em?”

Lydia hesitated. “She would if she had to.”

My stomach sank.

She tugged at her ear again. Daryl tossed her the bottle.

“Doesn’t have to be like that,” he said quietly. “There’s good people here. People who’d help you… if you help them.”

She stared at the pills. “Can I have some water?”

Daryl grabbed a ladle from the corner and dipped it in a bucket, but when he stepped closer, she lunged for him - fast, feral, desperate. He caught her wrist mid-swing, and her sleeve fell back.

I gasped before I could stop myself.

Her arm was covered in raw, brutal welts. Scars, old and new, like someone had beaten her again and again and again.

Daryl froze. Staring. Not saying a word.

Lydia jerked back, retreating to her corner, curling up like a kicked animal.

Daryl didn’t move for a second. Just stared. Then, without a word, he turned and walked up the stairs.

I followed him, heart breaking.

“Hey,” I said gently once we were outside. “You okay?”

He didn’t look at me. Just kept walking. “Fine. Jus’ need some air.”

I knew he wasn’t. But I also knew him well enough to give him space.

“Okay,” I murmured. “Let’s get some rest.”

“Ya go,” he rasped. “I’ll be there soon.”

But I didn’t walk away. I watched as he climbed into the hayloft, shoulders stiff like he was holding in a storm. Then I followed.

He was sitting there, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing. Like the weight of the whole damn world had settled right on his back and decided to stay.

“You wanna talk?” I asked softly, not wanting to startle him.

“Ain’t nothin’,” he muttered, voice low and flat, before he sighed. “Nah. Don’t wanna.”

I didn’t press. I knew better. Instead, I just sunk down beside him, close enough for our shoulders to touch. I wrapped my arms around him, feeling the tension that lived in his bones - like it had been there his whole life.

I didn’t ask again. I didn’t have to.

After a while, I headed back to the room alone, exhausted. I slept a lot longer than I meant to. The sky had turned to ink when I stirred, cold air brushing my skin.

The door creaked open, and Daryl stepped into the room. His eyes were shadowed, jaw tight, like he’d been somewhere far darker than the cellar.

“You okay?” I asked, sitting up, still heavy with sleep.

He didn’t answer right away. Just crossed the room and set a plate of food in my lap, then leaned down and kissed me. Soft. Hesitant. Like he was sorry for something he hadn’t said yet.

“Be back soon,” he murmured. “Jus’ wanted to make sure ya ate.”

Then he was gone again.

I followed him quickly out of Barrington House and watched as he picked up a thin branch from the ground and headed into the cellar again. I crouched by the window, barely breathing, listening hard.

“Ya know,” his voice carried through the cracks in the wall, “some dads’d come up with any excuse... just to beat the shit outta their kids.”

My whole body tensed. My heart broke - again - for him.

He still never talked about what his Dad had done to him. Not really. He’d always carried it in silence, in the way his eyes flinched at sudden movement, the way he sometimes stared into space like he was still there - in that shack, in that pain.

“Maybe they’re drunk. Maybe they can’t get drunk. Belts are good. But these assholes, they ain’t picky. They’ll use whatever’s layin’ around. But a good switch from a birch tree... that’ll work.”

Tears blurred my vision as I pictured my sweet husband as a child - being beaten by the man who was supposed to protect him. I bit my lip to stay quiet, but my soul screamed for him.

“Yur dad sounds a lot like one of those dads,” Daryl said to Lydia, voice thick. “Except the part where he sang to ya when ya were scared.”

It dawned on me that he must’ve spoken to her more while I slept. It clicked into place then, his reaction to the marks on her arm, the way he was after... It had forced him to open the door to that place inside him - the one he usually locked up tight.

“Those dads... they like it when yur scared. Thing is, that’s the only part of yur story that didn’t sound like bullshit.”

I realized then what the branch was for.

The truth. His truth. He was giving it to her.

“‘N’ those bruises on ya arm, they come from a beatin’. So lemme ask ya, if yur dad’s dead, who gave ’em to ya?”

“…My mom.” I heard Lydia admit quietly.

“Where is she?” Daryl asked, sounding furious.

“Be glad you don’t know.”

“Where is she? Where’s yur camp?

Daryl waited. No answer.

“Why ya protectin’ her? Huh? Yur safer here.”

“This place isn’t real.” Lydia scoffed. “The world changed, and you’re all acting like it’s gonna change back.”

“Yur mom beats you because she loves ya..?” Daryl exclaimed. “That’s bullshit.”

“No, it isn’t. When you stay soft, people die.”

I could literally feel the tension in Daryl radiating through the window.

“Ya were just a little girl.” He said much more softly. “It wasn’t yur fault.”

“I was stupid.” Lydia said plainly. “I deserved to die. But my dad was soft, and now he’s the one that’s dead.”

“What was he supposed to do?” Daryl asked in disbelief. “Just watch his lil girl get bit?”

“When you can’t bend, you break. He broke.”

“That ain’t true. We’re makin’ it better. We’re buildin’ it back up again, changin’ it back.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t belong with these people.” I heard him say kindly. “Maybe you used to, but not anymore.”

“You don’t know shit about me.” Lydia spat.

“So tell me.”

Silence.

“Hey, I told ya what happened to me.” Daryl tried again. “Tell me what happened to ya.”

Still nothing.

I felt so frustrated. If only Lydia knew how much it must have taken Daryl to tell her this stuff, how hard he found it to open up about – even to me.

After the silence stretched further, the door banged open, and he stormed out. He stopped short when he saw me crouched by the window. His eyes flicked with surprise - maybe even a little shame, before he started moving again.

“Where are you going?” I asked gently.

“Girl’s too messed up.” He snapped. “She’s a waste of time. She’s Maggie and Glenn’s problem. I wanna get back to our kids.”

He didn’t mean it. I knew he didn’t. His voice cracked too much on the word kids.

He climbed into the hayloft again. I followed him - again.

He sat down on a bale of hay, face in his hands like he wanted to disappear inside himself. Like he was drowning in memories.

I sat beside him in silence. Then I reached out, gently pulled one of his hands away from his face, and pressed a kiss into his scarred knuckles.

“He used that birch on you?” I whispered.

He grunted. Didn’t look at me.

“That was brave,” I said. “What you just did. Telling her. Letting her see that part of you.”

He shook his head. “It was stupid. Shouldn’t’a said nothin’.”

“It wasn’t stupid,” I said, softer than before. “I’m proud of you.”

He let out a shaky breath, like he’d been holding it in since he was a boy. Then he pulled me into him, strong arms wrapping around me like I was the only steady thing left in the world.

He kissed the top of my head, and I felt it all - the ache, the need, the quiet hope buried beneath years of silence and scars.

I didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need words.

We stayed there for a while, tangled together, before I wordlessly took his hand and led him to our bedroom. He was exhausted, his eyes looked so heavy. When we reached our room, I pulled him into bed with me and held him as tightly as I could. He let me.

It didn’t take him long to fall asleep. I couldn’t, I’d slept all day, but I stayed there beside him, holding him close, stroking his hair, pressing gentle kisses to his head while I cried silently for him - the love of my life - who’d been through so much, even before the world fell apart.

I hated what he’d been through. I'd never forgotten it - but seeing him look so vulnerable today, the way he’d forced himself to open up to Lydia to try and get through to her despite how difficult it was for him - it brought it all back...

Our trip back to where he came from, the book I saw in his room, how he’d shut down from me after...

I’d made a promise then that I’d always protect him the way he should’ve been protected as a kid, the way he deserved. And as I lay there with him in my arms, watching him sleep, I meant it more than ever.

~

Sleep still wouldn’t come. I laid there beside Daryl, my arm curled around his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

Eventually, I eased away, carefully slipping from his arms and brushing a kiss to his forehead.

He stirred, murmuring my name, but I whispered, “Shh. I’m just going to the bathroom.”

But I wasn’t. I was going to speak to her.

Lydia.

She was sitting alone in the dark as I reached the bottom of the steps, legs pulled up to her chest in the corner of the cellar, like a child trying to disappear into herself. She flinched when she noticed me.

“I’m not here to yell,” I said gently, sitting down beside the bars. “I just want to talk.”

Lydia watched me with wary eyes, like a feral cat deciding if it was safe to come closer.

“I heard you and Daryl,” I said, my voice soft but steady. “He’s my husband... And he doesn’t talk about his past. Not to anyone. Not even me, not really. So what he said to you... that was huge.”

Lydia looked away, swallowing hard.

“I know what it feels like,” I continued, “to carry something so painful that it burns you from the inside out. To think it’s safer not to speak it out loud because once it’s real, it might break you.”

She didn’t respond right away. Just stared at the floor, hugging her knees. She looked younger than ever and it made me think of Briar.

“He’s not the kind of man who lets his guard down easily. But he did it for you...”

Lydia’s eyes welled. “Why would he do that?”

“Because he sees you. He knows what you’re going through. I think you remind him of... well, him, when be was younger... someone who didn’t have anyone to protect him. He doesn’t want you to go back to being treated like that.”

“I don’t deserve that,” she said, voice cracking. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“I don’t need to,” I told her. “I’ve done things I regret, too. But this world, it’s not about perfection. It’s about who you fight for, who you become when everything else falls apart.”

Lydia hesitated. “My mom… she doesn’t care like that.”

I didn’t speak. Just waited.

“She’s not coming for me,” she finally whispered. “None of them are.”

I felt a confusing mixture of relief and pity. “How do you know?”

“Because if someone dies or gets taken, they move on. Like they never existed.” Her voice was flat. Hollow. “That’s how it’s always been. They don’t come into contact with big groups unless they don’t have another choice. That’s why I... I was trying to find out everything I could about you all. About your walls, your weapons.”

“You thought you’d be punished if you didn’t?” I guessed.

She nodded slowly. “I thought they might take me back if I had something to give them.”

I moved closer and took her hand. “It is. And you don’t have to go back to that life. Not ever.”

Lydia wiped her face and let out a trembling breath. “If my mom found those two guys you’re looking for, she wouldn’t keep them alive.”

Dread coiled in my stomach.

“Lydia... Where's your camp?”

She took a deep breath. “Near the guard bridge. Maybe a mile east. But they move a lot.

“Thank you,” I said. “You're doing the right thing.”

~

I slipped back into bed beside Daryl just as the first hint of light touched the sky. He stirred, eyes barely opening.

“Where ya been?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.

I brushed hair from his forehead and kissed him softly. “Went to talk to Lydia.”

He blinked a few times. “Ya okay?”

“Yeah,” I murmured. “She told me where their camp was. Near the guard bridge. Maybe a mile east. But they don’t stay in one place... I woke Maggie and told her.”

He exhaled, tension rising in his shoulders.

“She also said if her mom found Alden and Luke… there’s no reason she’d keep them alive.”

Daryl cursed under his breath. “People headin’ out? I should go.”

“On my way back, I saw Magna, Yumiko, Kelly, and Connie sneaking out.”

He pushed himself up on an elbow. “Ya didn’t stop ‘em?”

I shook my head.

“Why?”

“Because I wouldn’t let anyone stop me if it was you,” I whispered. “We can’t expect them to just sit and wait.”

That softened him. He pulled me close and kissed me slow, tired, tender.

We held each other in that quiet moment. No more words. Just understanding.

~

When the morning finally broke, Daryl rolled toward me, brushing his fingers over my cheek.

“I wanna get back to the kids,” he murmured.

“I was thinking the same,” I said. “These whispering freaks know about Hilltop now. They find out about Alexandria…”

He nodded grimly. “Exactly... Let’s talk to Maggie about Lydia - Make sure she knows the deal, then hit the road.”

~

We packed and headed out, but before we even made it to the gates, they swung open.

Magna and Yumiko were back - but not with Connie or Kelly.

I suddenly felt incredibly guilty about not stopping them from leaving last night.

“Shit,” I breathed, but then I saw the guards dragging someone in quickly, like they needed to hurry.

It was Kelly.

Daryl and I exchanged a sharp look. Something was happening.

Glenn waved us toward the top of the guard post. We hurried up, hearts pounding.

Outside the gates stood a group of people - cloaked in masks made from walker skin. Unmoving. Watching.

And at the front of the group, the only one not masked, stood a bald woman, her eyes pale and cold as death. Her expression was unreadable, but her presence was like ice seeping into bone.

“I am Alpha,” she said. Her voice was calm. Controlled. Deadly.

“And we only want one thing from you… my daughter.”

A/N: Uh-oh... Here comes Alpha. I absolutely hated her in the show. I felt like she was the worst antagonist up until that point.

Thank you so much for your reads, votes and comments. ❤️