The Ache of Regret

They weren't back.

And I was fucking frantic.

The sun had long dipped behind the trees, washing the sky in muted purples and inky blues, but Daryl still wasn't home. Neither was Merle, nor Carol, nor Aaron.

I was furious with myself - burning from the inside out. For letting him leave like that. For letting my stubbornness win the battle over my heart. For standing on that porch and throwing daggers when I should've wrapped my arms around him, kissed him hard, whispered "I love you" against his lips and told him to be safe. Told him that I understood. That I knew he was just trying to protect me.

But I didn't. I'd slammed the door in his face. And now he was out there, and I was here, pacing the damn guard post like a caged animal, praying he'd come into view. We never left one another like this - we knew better than to risk not saying those words - and now, it felt like my heart already realized something my brain didn't...

The second I'd reached the gates earlier, just minutes after he'd left, I knew I'd made a mistake. There was no obvious trail to follow, no direction to head in. They'd disappeared into the woods like smoke, and all I had left was the bitter taste of regret.

Even Gabriel - who was there when the revelation about Aaron's meetings with Gamma happened - couldn't tell me where the group had headed. The plan was rushed, protocols not followed - I truly had no idea where my husband was.

I tried to busy myself. I tried everything: Reorganized the pantry; repaired a crack in the fence panel near Barbara's house; cleaned weapons that were already gleaming; cooked dinner even though I couldn't bring myself to eat. I braided Briar's hair and told Sawyer a million stories. I bathed them, dressed them for bed, and pretended I was fine.

I wasn't.

Because even as I went through the motions - putting on the performance of a woman holding it together - my thoughts were a landslide, tumbling faster and faster with every hour that passed.

After I'd tucked the kids in, I'd left Lydia in the house with them and headed to the guard post in the hope of seeing him appear in the distance. I had to.

They were just going to look. Just a recon mission - scope out the area this Gamma woman had pointed out. No confrontation, no fight. Just shadows moving through the trees. Observe and report.

That was the plan.

So why weren't they back?

After not ten minutes up on the post - straining my eyes against the darkness as I searched the distance for any sign of movement - the unease in my stomach shifted.

It wasn't just a dull ache anymore. It became something far worse. Something physical - not just nerves, not just dread.

Pain. Deep, twisting, grinding pain.

I doubled over, hand braced on the railing, trying to breathe through it. My gut clenched like I'd been sucker-punched. My heartbeat thundered so loudly I could hear it in my ears. The earth tilted on its axis for a moment, and I had to force myself not to throw up right there on the post.

Part of me wanted to try to dismiss it... I'd been feeling off lately, more exhausted than usual, dizzy spells, headaches, the stress of the Whisperers being back obviously getting to me - but this wasn't like that.

It wasn't normal. It wasn't illness. It was him. I just knew it.

Somewhere, out there - something had happened. I didn't know how I knew it, but I did. The way a bird knows which way is south. The way the tide knows when to rise.

It was the same feeling I'd had years ago on the farm, when one of Hershel's horses had thrown Daryl into a ravine, and he'd been impaled by one of his own damn bolts. It was long before we were lovers - before we were even really friends - but I'd felt it then, regardless, bone-deep and terrible. Like the universe was trying to shake me awake.

And now? My soul was screaming. My heart was being pulled. And I couldn't ignore it. I wouldn't.

"You alright, Dixon?" Mal - one of Alexandria's newer residents - asked cautiously from across the guard post.

I didn't answer him. I couldn't. I clambered down the ladders without a word. I needed answers, and if anyone could help me sort through the noise in my head and figure out where Daryl and the others might've gone, it was Gabriel - so I ran, through the dark, through the night-chilled air, through the silence of Alexandria, where everyone else was tucked into their homes and believing everything was fine.

The chapel was dimly lit as I came to a halt, the only real light coming from the half-melted candle near Gabriel's desk. It was strange to find him in here at night nowadays - he'd usually be with Rosita, but she'd made it damn clear that she didn't want to be around anybody after what had happened to Siddiq - not even him.

Gabriel looked up from a small map he was studying as I entered. The candlelight caught the sweat on his temple - he was worried too... I could see it, even if he didn't say so right away.

"They should be back." I forced out, trying to steady my breathing.

Gabriel sat back in his chair with a sigh, eyes scanning mine like he was trying to read something more than just panic in my face.

"Yes," he said quietly. "They should."

That made my chest squeeze even harder. Gabriel wasn't one to feed panic, but he knew something was wrong, too. He might not be feeling it in every cell of his body like I was - but he knew.

"Something happened." I informed him, pacing the edge of the pews. My hands were clenched, nails biting into my palms. "To Daryl. Maybe to all of them."

He sighed, looking at me with a mixture of sympathy and fear. "We don't know that..."

I stopped pacing. "I do."

Gabriel nodded slowly, then stood. He didn't ask me to explain. At least on some level, he seemed to understand.

"I can try to reach Hilltop. A small group was supposed to meet them near the site... Just in case Gamma's intel led to something bigger. Maybe something came up, and they had to head back there altogether."

"No." I shook my head, my throat tightening. "They didn't. They didn't go back to Hilltop."

"What about Oceanside? Maybe they had to detour? Michonne's still there. I can-"

"They aren't at any of the communities. If they were, Daryl would've made contact. He wouldn't let me worry like this."

The words came out louder than I intended, and I felt my eyes burning. I squeezed them shut, but it didn't stop the tears that slipped free. Hot and silent.

"Please tell me you have some idea where they went," I whispered. "I have to find them. I have to find him."

"I don't. I'm sorry - there wasn't time for discussion. Not with Siddiq, Dante..."

"Is that the truth!?" I snapped. "Or did Daryl make you swear not to tell me so I couldn't go looking if he didn't- If he-"

I couldn't finish the sentence. My knees nearly gave out with the weight of it. My voice trembled, and then finally broke, the tears spilling faster now - freefalling down my cheeks as panic choked my chest.

Gabriel crossed the room in two long strides. He rested a hand on my shoulder, firm but kind.

"Athena," he said softly, "I'm telling you the truth."

I let my head fall into my hands, trying to breathe.

"But besides that, Daryl wouldn't want you going after him." Gabriel continued. "You know that."

"I don't care what he wants!" I swatted a tear from my face. "Where Gamma said the horde was - could it have been a trap?"

Gabriel's mouth tightened. He looked torn.

"Aaron believes her. He said he trusts her. That she's not like the others. He's a good judge of character."

I stared at him, my jaw set, my breath uneven.

"Give me something to work with. Please."

He sighed, crossing back to the table and pulling the map he was studying closer.

"Carol's scouted all of this area already," he said, pointing. "But other than that, they could be anywhere."

I snatched up the map and turned on my heel, already moving toward the door. This was useless. I was wasting time.

"Athena-" Gabriel called after me. "I know I can't stop you. But please, rethink this. Let me go... One of us needs to be here..."

I didn't respond. Just kept moving.

I sprinted all the way back home. My lungs were burning. My boots slammed the pavement with every step, the wind slicing at my cheeks, mixing with the leftover tears still wet on my skin. The house loomed ahead, dim and quiet. I burst through the front door and Lydia jolted up from the couch.

"Do you have any idea where your mom would keep her horde?" I asked, a little more aggressively than I meant to.

She shook her head.

"Please Lydia... Try to think."

"I don't know. She didn't tell me stuff like that."

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Fuck."

"I'm sorry..."

"I'm heading out," I said quickly, already turning. "Stay with the kids."

"What happened? Is Daryl okay?"

I paused halfway out of the room, my palms sweaty. I didn't know how to explain it. How do you describe an invisible rope pulling at your insides? How do you explain that you just know your husband is in danger? Or was...

"I don't know," I said hoarsely. "But I need to find him."

Lydia's face hardened with the same determination I saw in her mother once. "Then I'm coming."

"No." I shook my head. "I need you to stay here."

"But-"

"There's no time to argue. Stay with the kids. Annie's next door if you need her."

"Won't she want to go with you if Merle-"

"There isn't time." I cut her off. "She can't leave DJ. She can be mad at me about it later. I need to look for Daryl. He could be hurt. He could be..."

I trailed off. The words wouldn't come. Lydia hesitated, jaw clenched. But she nodded.

Then I turned back into the hall and stopped dead, startled to see Briar awake, perched at the top of the stairs in her pajamas, knees tucked to her chest, curls a tangled halo around her face. She'd been quiet as a shadow. If I hadn't looked up, I might've missed her completely.

Her wide eyes locked onto mine, and they were frightened.

My heart dropped. She'd been listening.

Fuck.

"Baby..." I climbed the steps slowly and crouched in front of her. "You should be in bed."

She didn't move. Just looked at me with those big, tear-filled eyes. "Is Daddy hurt?"

I closed my eyes for a second, cursing myself. Of course she'd heard everything. The house was too quiet, and our voices had been too urgent.

There was no point in lying to her, pretending everything was fine - she was too smart to fall for it - but I couldn't say yes, either. How could I? I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to smile, though my throat burned with the effort. "I don't know, baby."

She looked down at her knees, and I felt a tear threaten again. I blinked it back before continuing.

"You know your daddy's the bravest, strongest man there is," I whispered. "And he's with Uncle Merle - so I don't want you to worry okay? Mummy's just going out to look for them in case they can't find their way back home."

Her lip quivered. "Will you be gone a long time? Like when Daddy had to help you? When you hurt your leg?"

"No," I said quickly, cupping her cheek as my heart clenched. "Not like that. Never like that."

"Your voice sounds scared."

That undid me.

I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against hers, taking a shaky breath.

"I am. A little bit..." I admitted softly, knowing she could see right through me. "But it's just because I love your daddy so much. And when you love people the way I love him, and you, and your brother, even a tiny worry feels big."

Without warning, her little arms wrapped around my neck. Fierce and desperate.

"Take some bandages," she whispered into my shoulder. "In case his leg is hurt."

"I will," I promised, holding her tight. "I'll be back really soon."

I kissed her cheek, stood up slowly, and gave her one last smile through the blur in my eyes.

"Lydia's going to take care of you and Sawyer tonight, okay? I love you."

She nodded but didn't look convinced. "Love you, Mommy."

As I turned and made my way back down the stairs, I heard her tiny voice behind me, barely above a breath.

"Bring daddy back safe."

I paused at the bottom step and looked back up at her, my insides screaming that I couldn't promise her that, but she needed to hear it anyway.

"I will, sweetheart."

Then, I grabbed my weapons and stepped outside into the night.

The guards still at the gate - Mal and Laura - looked uneasy when I approached, shoulders stiff, eyes darting. They didn't say it, but I saw it. They knew Daryl wouldn't want me going out like this.

I couldn't have given less of a fuck.

"Open the gate," I barked, storming toward it like a woman possessed.

They hesitated - just for a second - but that second was too long. Rage boiled up behind my ribs, white-hot and feral.

"I swear to God-" My voice cracked with the fury clawing at my throat. "I'm not going to be responsible for my actions if you don't let me the fuck out!"

Something in my tone must've convinced them. Maybe it was the way my hands trembled, or the wild look in my eyes that said I'd climb over the damn gate if I had to. Either way, they exchanged a silent glance before Mal relented. The gate creaked open just wide enough for me to slip through.

And then I ran.

I didn't look back. The moment the gate clanged shut behind me, I sprinted into the dark, the woods swallowing me whole. Cold air lashed at my cheeks as branches clawed at my arms like greedy hands. I pushed harder, faster, heading in the only direction I could think of - toward where Daryl and the others had last had contact with Alpha.

I didn't have a plan. All I had was panic, pure and simple, hammering in my chest like a war drum. The night air was thick with dew, the kind that soaked into your clothes and settled into your bones. Overhead, the sky stretched black and endless, save for the scattered stars watching like distant gods too far away to care. My boots crunched over dry leaves and snapped twigs, each sound ricocheting off the trees, too loud. Too alone. Every rustle in the underbrush made my pulse spike.

But I couldn't stop moving.

Because stopping meant thinking. And thinking meant feeling. And if I let myself feel - really feel - I'd fall apart.

I hated that I hadn't taken a horse, but Daryl and the others had gone on foot, and that meant the terrain they planned to take must have been too rough for hooves. There was no sense bringing one if it would just slow me down or break a leg.

I wanted to follow their route as best I could. Maybe I'd spot signs - broken branches, boot prints, even blood if it had come to that. If they'd veered off trail, or gotten turned around - or worse, been ambushed - I needed to see it with my own eyes. Maybe, just maybe, I'd run into them on their way back, Daryl unharmed and furious that I'd gone chasing after him. But the knot twisting in my gut laughed at that fantasy. That kind of hope didn't live in this world anymore. That kind of hope got people killed.

I wasn't a tracker. Not like Daryl. I'd picked up some skills - God knows I'd been stubborn about learning - but I couldn't see what he saw. Not even close. Right now, I couldn't even find a damn trail, let alone follow it. But I pushed forward anyway.

The meeting point a few weeks ago had been northeast - out by what used to be a nature preserve, a stretch of woods marked by Alpha for the rendezvous. It wasn't much, but it was a place to start.

About thirty minutes in, I slowed, panting, hands on my thighs. The trees were different here. Quieter. Darker. Branches reached down like skeletal fingers, scraping at my jacket. Roots snatched at my boots, threatening to pull me down if I dared lose focus for even a moment.

Then it hit me.

Wait...

Alpha wouldn't be that stupid. She wouldn't have set a meeting anywhere near where she was keeping her horde. That kind of risk would've drawn our attention to the area. Too dangerous. Too obvious.

Shit.

I changed course, pivoting northward, toward where I'd last laid eyes on her in the flesh. That damn barn. Maybe it could take me in the right direction... Possibly.

My thoughts felt like they were spinning like wheels in the mud, frantic and useless. I stopped and scrubbed my hands over my face, trying to will my brain to think, to work like Daryl's did. I pulled the map out, squinting to try and see it. Gabriel had shown me the area Carol had already scouted - thoroughly. And Carol was a goddamn bloodhound when it came to the Whisperers. If she said it was clear, then it was clear. So maybe I could rule out a whole area.

The problem with that was, Whisperer territory wasn't defined by 'land' as such - Though Alpha had called it that. It wasn't a border on a map - it was a shifting, murky sprawl of power, always moving with the herds, blending into the chaos. We'd tried like hell to chart it over the past year, using her pikes and evidence of old camps, but the whole thing was like trying to pin smoke to a wall. Just when you thought you had it figured out, it slipped through your fingers.

And then - behind me, something shifted.

Or someone.

My hand flew to my knife as I spun around, feet planted, body braced. And then I froze.

It was Lydia.

She emerged from the trees like a ghost, slightly breathless, her eyes full of fire and guilt. Her hoodie was half-zipped, her boots muddy. She'd run to catch me, and she hadn't come lightly.

"I'm sorry," she said, words tumbling out on shaky breath. "I had to."

Relief surged through me - and fury right behind it.

"I told you to stay with the kids," I snapped, my voice low and sharp. "Who's with them!?"

"Gabriel showed up right after you left." She said quickly. "He wanted to convince you to let him go instead... I told him he couldn't stop me either. He's with them. They'll be safe."

Goddammit.

She was right. Gabriel had come a long way from the frightened man we'd first met. He was strong now. Steady. A total badass. He wouldn't let anything happen to Briar or Sawyer, not on his watch.

But still. Lydia shouldn't have followed me. I didn't have the bandwidth right now to protect her too.

"Go back," I said tightly. "You shouldn't be out here."

"I know." Her eyes dropped, guilty. Then she met my gaze again, firm. "But Daryl's protected me. Over and over. If he's in trouble... if he's hurt... I have to help."

That got to me. I faltered.

I knew how much she thought of Daryl. They'd bonded over things I'd never be able to truly understand, the two of them. Pain, mostly. Survival of a brutal upbringing. In a way, that bound them.

"I thought of something too," Lydia continued. "After you left."

My ears pricked up. "What?" I asked when she didn't keep talking.

"There were these caves," she said. "We stayed in them once. Big, cold, dry. My mom never kept walkers there... that I know of. But she could now, maybe."

Caves. A natural prison. A grave you could walk into and never get out of.

Maybe didn't feel like enough. It could be a shot in the dark, but it was better than trying to find a trail when I didn't even know which direction I should be moving. Besides, every second I stood there debating was another second Daryl might be-

No. I shut that thought down before it could finish.

"Do you know where they are?" I asked, already moving again.

Lydia nodded, picking up pace beside me. "Yeah. I think so."

"Then show me."

A/N: As always, thank you so much for your votes and comments. They make me SO happy! ❤️