Still Everything

I stood in front of Annie's mirror, wearing the dress Daryl had found for me. It fit perfectly - like he knew my body so well after all these years that he'd known it was the one for me as soon as he found it.

For a long moment, I just stared. I hardly recognized myself. Years of jeans, boots, and gore stains - and suddenly there was this woman in a dress.

The grey made my eyes look sharper, my skin warmer, my shoulders straighter. My hair, I tried to tame into something fancy, but after three failed attempts, I let it fall loose around my shoulders.

Still, I strapped a knife to my thigh under the skirt - because even in a dress, I wasn't about to be caught unarmed.

Briar - who I'd already dressed - burst back into the room, freezing mid-step as her eyes widened. "Mommy... you look so pretty!"

She herself looked cute as a button with her little dress and boots that didn't quite match. Her hair was braided to one side with a handful of wildflowers from Merle and Annie's yard threaded in. And she clutched the mini bouquet she'd been given like it was a mission in itself.

"Not as pretty as you, baby girl."

She twirled once, just to see the skirt flare out, and grinned at me. "Can we help Aunt Annie put her wedding dress on now?"

We spent the next hour getting the bride ready. Her dress was pure ivory, with lace sleeves that made her look softer than I'd ever seen her, and when she stepped into it, even she had to admit she felt like a bride. She'd found the dress in a garment bag of what used to be a dry-cleaners way back when, and it was perfect for her.

I did the best I could at twisting her hair into a fancy up do, then the three of us laughed, fussed, and made last-minute fixes until the signal finally came - two quick knocks at the door from Aaron.

Everyone was ready. Everyone was waiting.

Annie and I slipped on our boots - which in the old world would've seemed at odds with our formal attire - then the three of us stepped out into the crisp morning, dresses brushing our boots, hearts beating in unison, and began the walk to the church.

~

As Briar and I made our entrance, her little boots tapped with a rhythm of their own, the hem of her dress bouncing with each step. I glanced down at her - the flowers tucked into her hair, the grin wide enough to split her cheeks - and my chest nearly burst. She looked so proud to be involved with the big day, as if this moment belonged as much to her as it did to Merle and Annie.

But when my eyes lifted, and I saw Daryl standing at the front beside his brother, everything inside me stilled.

His jaw actually went slack, like someone had knocked the wind clean out of him. He wasn't even trying to hide it - his gaze was locked on me, his face unreadable except for the adoration in those storm-colored eyes. He'd seen me bloodied, he'd seen me in every shade of broken down and put back together, but never like this. Never in silk or something so feminine, rarely with my long hair loose down my shoulders instead of tied back for practicality, never softened in this way. Not really.

I swallowed a laugh, guiding Briar toward the pew where Sawyer sat waiting in smart brown shorts and a white t-shirt with fewer stains than usual. I whispered to him how handsome he looked, then headed towards Daryl, the hem of my dress whispering against the wooden floorboards. Only then did I let myself really look at him.

God.

Merle hadn't managed to shove him into one of the scavenged suits - not a chance in hell - but between us, we'd pieced together something that did him more than justice.

A dark, button-down shirt, freshly laundered, the sleeves rolled to his forearms. Faded black trousers that clung just right, worn leather belt buckled around his hips. His boots were scuffed but polished, somehow both rugged and sharp at once. And his hair... I almost forgot where we were when I saw it. Washed, combed, the sun from the windows catching the chestnut strands. It framed his face in a way that made his cheekbones stand out, softened the rough edges of him without stealing the strength. He looked... beautiful. There was no other word for it.

His eyes still hadn't left me.

"Hey, Mr. Best Man," I whispered as I reached his side, a smirk tugging at my mouth. "Wanna stare more?"

He huffed out the faintest laugh, though his eyes didn't waver. "Ain't never seen ya dressed up"

I arched a brow, "It freaking you out?"

"Nah." His voice was low, steady, but there was something raw in it. "Ya look... unbelievable."

My heart stuttered. I reached for his hand, fingers slipping into his, squeezing once. "So do you," I said honestly, letting my eyes travel over him again. "And thank you for my dress."

He smiled shyly, dipping his head.

But before the moment could settle too deeply, Merle's voice cut through. He leaned closer, DJ slung casually over his shoulder like a sack of grain. "Damn, Sis." he drawled, loud enough for half the church to hear, "If it weren't my weddin' day, I'd say ya looked smokin'."

I rolled my eyes but smiled. "You're looking rather dapper yourself... even though I can't believe I'm saying that."

Merle gave a mock bow, his suit jacket straining as he handed DJ over to Daryl with surprising gentleness.

Daryl cradled our nephew against his chest, and for just a heartbeat, everything stilled. Daryl's fingers curled around DJ's small back, the baby instantly quieting against him. Seeing them like that - my rugged, fierce hunter holding DJ like he always had our own children, with such instinctive care - knocked the breath out of me.

The organ started, and Annie finally entered. The hush that followed her steps made the whole church feel even more sacred. She glowed, her dress flowing around her like she'd stepped straight out of another world. Merle's grin slipped into something almost shy as his eyes found her, and for once, my brother-in-law was silent.

Gabriel's voice filled the space, calm and steady. He spoke of vows and love, of finding hope in the darkest of places, of how marriage was both a promise and a fight worth bleeding for. His words carried, soft but strong, wrapping around us like a prayer.

When they exchanged vows, Merle's voice cracked on Annie's name, and she smiled like he'd given her the world. DJ wriggled in Daryl's arms but stayed quiet, as if even he knew this was something bigger than him.

By the time Gabriel pronounced them husband and wife, Annie's cheeks were wet with tears. And when they kissed, the whole church erupted - claps, cheers, laughter breaking through the solemn quiet.

The whole thing felt surreal. For a brief, perfect stretch of time, it was almost like the world outside didn't exist. Just vows, promises, family - and the man standing beside me, his free hand brushing mine whenever he thought no one was looking.

~

After the ceremony, Alexandria was alive with laughter.

Lanterns - mismatched, dented, cobbled together from Hilltop glass jars and Alexandria scraps - hung from wherever we could string them, like stars that had fallen into our little town. The air carried that sweet blend of food cooking, earth cooling, and waiting firewood, threaded through with the sound of voices - our voices. No whispers of danger, no desperate planning. Just joy.

Merle and Annie sat together, hands entwined, DJ babbling happily between them as he dipped his entire fist into Annie's glass of wine. Her cheeks still glowed pink from the vows, and Merle actually looked like he might burst with pride. The man who had once been nothing but sharp edges and poison-tipped jokes now looked whole, softened, like someone had sanded down the roughness of his soul.

It felt like a blessing to have the whole gang gathered, the living proof of everything we'd managed to keep alive. Maggie, Glenn, Hershel, Tara, and Jesus had travelled with Jerry and his family from Hilltop, leaving Magna, Kelly, Luke and, miraculously, Connie, behind to keep the construction running.

She'd made it out of those damn caves the same night Merle and Magna had, but was swept away in another direction when some of the walkers veered off. It had taken weeks of trying to find her way back, before Kelly of all people stumbled across her, dehydrated and exhausted but alive.

Beth and Cyndie had come up from Oceanside too, their voices harmonizing alongside their guitars, spinning the whole evening into something magical. The music they made together had that raw, unpolished charm of campfire songs, but when Beth hit the high notes, even the cicadas outside the walls seemed to hush.

Rick and Michonne sat at one of the tables with Glenn and Maggie, their heads close together, wearing little smirks they couldn't seem to wipe off. Most hadn't noticed it yet, but it hadn't escaped my eyes that Michonne was now sporting a ring on her finger she hadn't been wearing when they reappeared.

They weren't the only ones hiding something either. Maggie's hand rested idly on her belly while she pretended to sip her drink but didn't actually swallow any. She had that glow about her, not just joy but something more. And I knew, even before Glenn's eyes gave him away with every stolen glance, that baby Rhee number two was on the way.

Rosita balanced Coco on her hip, Gabriel hovering nearby like the proudest stepdad in the universe, his usually stoic face softened with so much love it was hard not to grin just looking at him. Aaron and Eric stood off with Jesus, teasing one another in easy banter that rolled back years of tension and grief. Tara was perched on a table, waving her drink like a conductor with a baton, calling out jokes that made Enid and Alden cackle with laughter. Barbara spun and laughed and danced with anyone who'd take her hand, her skirt flying like she was twenty again.

Carl was being Carl - trying to mediate a heated debate between Judith, Gracie, and Briar over whose dress was "the twirliest." Predictably, Briar won, mostly because Carl told Judith and Gracie to let her as she was the youngest.

Agatha clung to Carl's arm through it all, cheeks pink, grin proud. They finally weren't hiding their smooches anymore.

Then there was Lydia.

We stumbled into each other near the food table, pausing mid-step like magnets that couldn't quite decide if they wanted to push away or pull closer. The tension was still there, quiet but sharp. She wasn't ready to talk about her mother, and though it hurt, I respected that, even though I knew it broke something in Daryl too to watch her keep that distance from me.

I couldn't pretend I regretted ending Alpha - I never would - but I was sorry it had hurt her.

She bowed her head, her words small, awkward. "You look nice."

"So do you," I answered, letting my gaze sweep over her chic black dress, a little too big, but it made her look striking nonetheless. "That outfit won't be any good for riding your bike though. Daryl tells me it's almost finished."

That earned me a faint huff of laughter. "Yeah. Another week or so."

"I'd love to see it when it's done."

She nodded, polite but clipped, and began helping herself to food. It wasn't much. But it was something. A flicker of hope that maybe one day she'd see me once again as more than just the woman who ended her mother.

Carol slipped beside me not long after, in a pale yellow shirt and pastel skirt that made her look almost delicate, almost like the woman she'd been before all this. We stood together watching Daryl laugh at something Merle barked across the tables.

"I miss him, y'know?" she murmured, voice brittle. "Wish he'd let me back in."

"He will," I said softly, throat tightening. "He loves you. He just needs time."

"I never meant for anybody to get hurt."

"I know." I faced her fully. "He knows that too."

She scoffed. "Doesn't seem like enough."

"You know what he's like. His defenses shoot up. He thought he'd lost Merle again, and it terrified him. He'll work it out, but... this is Daryl Dixon. Give him a year or five."

Carol snorted, and for a second her hand brushed mine. "I'll be waiting."

And then - like the evening hadn't already been overflowing with miracles, we heard the rumble of the guards opening the gate.

And who the hell should walk in?

Freakin' Morgan.

For a second, I thought I was seeing things. Beard full, lines carved deeper into his face. But his eyes... his eyes were calmer, steadier, like he'd wrestled down his demons somewhere out on whatever road he'd wandered for all this time.

He hadn't come for the wedding, obviously - how could he have known? But the timing felt like fate.

The moment he stepped into the lantern light, Rick shot to his feet, being on the other side of a surprise return now. They stood frozen for a heartbeat before Rick crossed the distance, pulling Morgan into a fierce hug that made my throat ache.

"Sounds like we both got some stories to tell, man." Rick chuckled, still in surprise.

Morgan only smiled, small but real as he took in the scene, bemused. "Guess I picked the right day to come home."

~

As Darkness fell, tables were pushed together, plates stacked high with even more food from the gardens and a selection of meats courtesy of Daryl. Music crackled from an old speaker now that Eric had spent all week battling with.

The night turned into chaos as always. But the very best kind. Bottles of homemade alcohol were lined up like proud trophies and we didn't hesitate to make the most of them. I found myself weaving between groups, sometimes with Daryl's hand warm against the small of my back, sometimes pulled away into some ridiculous conversation or debate.

Laughter boomed when Carl tried to toast "to the continued thriving and propagation of the human species," only to be drowned out by Tara heckling, "Just say babies, dude! You sound like Eugene!"

"It's his way of being here in spirit," Carl retorted, chuckling.

It really was a shame that Eugene wasn't here. He was still off on his mission with Ezekiel and Yumiko. Rosita especially had been starting to get antsy about how long it was taking them, but something told me that they were okay - that they'd found what they were looking for and would return when the time was right.

Barbara bustled around pouring drinks, insisting no one's glass ever go empty. She pressed yet another drink into Merle's hand, to which Annie laughed and scolded, "Don't you dare encourage him."

The speaker gave out after not even an hour, much to Eric's annoyance. But Beth and Cyndie simply grabbed their guitars again, now joined by Morgan keeping rhythm quite impressively on a bucket like he'd just popped off to drumming school for a week, not a several-year-long soul searching mission.

What people seemed to have decided was the dancefloor came alive, and Jesus span Rosita like he'd been born in a ballroom. Coco squealed from Gabriel's lap, clapping her tiny hands as her mom giggled.

The rest of the kids - save for DJ and Adam who were both now fast asleep against their respective father's chests - were running wild. Sawyer chased Briar and Judith in circles while RJ screamed encouragement. Gracie and Hershel were nearby climbing higher in a tree than was probably advisable.

Fire pits crackled to life as the night grew cooler, throwing sparks into the velvet-black sky. Laughter rose and fell in waves, while Beth and Cyndie's new percussionist meant they eventually curveballed into a more lively set of songs.

I let myself get completely lost in it. Enjoying music I hadn't heard in years.

My boots thudded against the ground as I spun with Maggie, Tara, even Michonne of all people, who couldn't keep her grin hidden as Rosita dragged her into our circle. I was breathless with it, wild with it - the kind of dancing that belonged to another lifetime, the kind we thought we'd never see again. My hair stuck to my temples, laughter tore from my chest, and for the first time in too long I felt like a girl again, not just a survivor, not just a wife or a mother, but someone carefree.

It was somewhere between Whitney Houston's 'I Wanna Dance With Somebody' and Madonna's 'Vogue' that I felt Daryl's eyes on me. That unmistakable weight of his gaze, pulling me in like a tether. I slowed, caught between the beats of the song, and turned my head.

He sat back in a chair, shadows carved sharp against his cheekbones by the lantern glow. His hair was back to being as dishevelled as ever now - the way I actually preferred it, and his mouth was curved into the faintest smile. He wasn't laughing or chatting like the others anymore. He was just watching me, still and steady, like I was the only person on the dancefloor. Like after all these years, after everything, he still couldn't quite believe I was his.

My chest tightened, an ache and a swell all at once. The music crashed back in and I spun away before I gave too much away, but his eyes followed me, burned into me, and I carried that look with me through every wild step.

Briar and Sawyer joined me for a brief dance before running back off to play. And it was then Beth's voice softened once more, the chords gentler, the air shifting slightly.

♫ Dancin' in the darkMiddle of the nightTakin' your heartAnd holdin' it tight ♫

The energy of the dance floor folded in on itself, laughter softening to murmurs as couples began to drift together, hands finding hands, bodies pressing close. I stepped back, tugging a stray lock of hair from my face, suddenly uncertain where I belonged. My wildness felt clumsy now among the soft sway of lovers.

♫ Emotional touchTouchin' my skinAnd askin' you to doWhat you've been doin' all over again ♫

I almost slipped away - until movement in the corner of my eye stopped me.

Daryl was rising, slow, sheepish, chewing on his thumbnail. His ears burned pink, and when he looked at me, it was both defiant and awkward, like a man determined to do something he didn't quite know how to.

♫ Oh, it's a beautiful thingDon't think I can keep it all inI just gotta let you knowWhat it is that won't let me go ♫

"You lost, Dixon?" I teased as he approached, still a little breathless from dancing.

"Shut up," he muttered, voice low, but there was no heat in it. Just a blush, just his heart in his throat. "Jus' dance with me."

I smiled as he pulled me into his arms, breathing him in as he held me close.

♫ It's your loveIt just does somethin' to meIt sends a shock right through meI can't get enough ♫

He smelled of soap and woodsmoke, that familiar grounding mix of him that had become the safest place I'd ever known. His hand settled warm against the small of my back, the other curling into my hair gently. We swayed, slow and steady, the world narrowing until it was just the two of us.

♫ And if you wonderAbout the spell I'm underOh, It's your loveBetter than I wasMore than I amAnd all of this happenedBy takin' your hand ♫

Over his shoulder, I caught sight of Briar and Sawyer creeping suspiciously close to the untouched wedding cake, whispering conspiratorially with RJ. I almost laughed, almost pulled away to stop them - but Daryl tightened his hold just enough, reminding me wordlessly that this moment was ours. Just ours.

Screw the goddamn cake.

♫ And who I am nowIs who I wanted to beAnd now that we're togetherI'm stronger than everI'm happy and free ♫

"Yur still everythin'," he whispered into my hair, so soft it was almost lost to the music. Almost like he hadn't meant me to hear.

I pulled back just a little, searching his face in the shifting lantern light, brushing a strand of hair from his eyes. My voice was steady, sure. "So are you, my gorgeous husband."

He scoffed faintly, embarrassed by the compliment, but his nose bumped mine as his hand threaded deeper into my hair.

"I love ya." He whispered. The words so full of truth they soaked straight into me.

"I love you," I smiled back, clutching him tighter. "More than ever."

The world fell away then - even the song seemed to vanish, leaving only him. His hand lifted first, rough fingers brushing over my cheek, thumb pressing lightly against my jaw as if he could feel every memory in a single touch. Heat radiated from his palm, seeping into my skin, anchoring me to him. Tethering us in a world that had tried so many times to pull us apart.

I leaned up, hands pressing to the sides of his torso, feeling the steady strength beneath the fabric, the gentle rhythm of his chest as he breathed. His forehead met mine for a heartbeat, soft and grounding, and every nerve in me hummed with anticipation.

Then his lips met mine. Slow. Tender. Inevitable. Electric. I tasted him the way I had a million times - smoke, pine and leather, the subtle salt of sweat - and my heart stuttered, then raced, every beat a drum in perfect harmony with his. Every movement was deliberate: the tilt of his head, the curve of his lips, the gentle press of his hands against my skin.

It was more than a kiss. It was every year we'd survived together, every promise kept, every fear faced and conquered. His lips spoke in a language older than words, whispering devotion, gratitude, and unspoken love straight into me. My fingers weaved into his hair, the rough strands soft beneath my grasp, holding him as if letting go would unravel everything.

The air seemed to hum around us, carrying the faint scent of earth and life, the world reduced to warmth, breath, and the steady pull of us together. Time had no meaning - there was only this moment, this kiss, this tether between us that had never once faltered.

And we didn't pull away. Not a fraction. Not even to breathe. Lips pressed, hearts pounding, bodies leaning into each other, eyes closed against the undoubtable stares of the others, against the world. We were suspended in that kiss, endless and unyielding, wrapped in every memory, every triumph, every moment that had carried us here.

Blood and fire, loss and laughter.

The thousand times the world had tried to take him from me, and the thousand times we'd clawed our way back to each other. Every scream, every tear, every desperate breath of fear - it all led to this moment, to the warmth of him, to the belief that no storm could break us now.

We'd survived it all. Every shadow that had chased us, every hand that could've torn us apart, every night spent wondering if we'd make it through - the answer had always been the same.

Still standing. Still together. Our two incredible children weaving chaos and joy just a few steps away, laughing and yelling, completely oblivious to the weight of the world and the miracle of what they were growing up in.

And yet, even with all that life pulsing around us, I felt as though we were the only two people left, lost in each other, discovering each other all over again, like we were falling in love for the first time and the thousandth at once.

The world had ended and begun again a hundred times over. Years of survival, of pain, of fear, of love stolen in fragments, had built this moment into something unbreakable. And now, after every impossible day, every heartbeat spent worrying, every breath that could have been our last - none of it mattered.

Not the chaos, the scars, the ghosts of the past... They all faded in the glow of him, of us, of this quiet, wild, unshakable certainty. This was what we had fought for. This was what we had found against all odds.

And as I pressed impossibly closer, my lips never leaving his and his heartbeat thudding against mine. I realized I had never been anywhere else. Never wanted to be anywhere else. Never would be anywhere else than in the arms of the man I had once thought untouchable.

Daryl Dixon.

My sweet, courageous, fierce husband.

My heart.

My home.

~

~

~

A/N: Okay, so...

This and the previous half of the chapter were meant to just be fluff leading into the next story arc that I've been planning, but as I was writing them, it sort of felt like the story was bringing itself to a natural end...

I don't know how I feel about this yet... I had the whole next season planned. But now I'm wondering if letting it wrap up in this way is sort of perfect...

Honestly, I don't know. 🤦‍♀️

When I started writing this story, I was in a pretty dark place and needed something I could focus on to escape the battles of everyday life - I never expected anybody to read it, especially not so many of you! I can't even begin to explain how grateful I am to you all for investing your time following Daryl and Athena's journey, as well as voting, commenting and generally just being freaking amazing!

I love all of you!!! ❤️

But I wonder now if continuing with the story could feel a little forced - like I'm sending our characters into another dark storyline they don't deserve when they've already come through so much..?

I'm mega attached to Daryl and Athena's story and the idea of finishing it actually makes me feel really sad - I'll miss them! But I also need to consider your experience as readers and not drag something out just because I don't want to say goodbye to it.

I'm genuinely so conflicted about what to do and need some time to work it out, but in the meantime - or if this story does end here - I have three other ongoing Daryl Dixon love stories (because I'm clearly obsessed) that I'll have more time to continue writing, and that you can hopefully enjoy just as much. They are:

We Ain't Ashes

Solace

Indigo.

Solace and Indigo see their OC's introduced later in the TWD timeline, whereas in We Ain't Ashes, we're starting right back from the beginning again (something that I'm probably far too excited about 🤓).

I strive to make each story and OC different, and diverge from the main plot in new ways often to keep things fresh.

Something I do always try hard to do though is build the relationships between Daryl and the OC in a similar way to how I did in this story - staying true to Daryl Dixon's character while showing him developing a different type of relationship (and everything that comes with that), to what we ever got to see in the show. So, if you've enjoyed Athena, I imagine you're likely to enjoy these others too!

As always, I'd love to know your thoughts! 🙏

Thank you all so much for being here! It really does mean the world! ❤️

P.S. The song is 'It's Your Love' by Tim McGraw.