Chapter 48 - Daryl

I sat on a picnic table outside the forge, knife in hand, a pile of wood stacked next to me ready to be carved into new bows for Hilltop. The steady thunk of Ella's voice carried over from the training field where she was teaching knife drills, sharp and commanding.

My knife stilled in my grip.

She was scowling at some fool twice her size, and he looked about ready to wet himself. She didn't even flinch. God, I loved that fire in her—how she held her ground, no hesitation.

Funny thing was, I remembered when that fire was just a spark.

When I first met her, back on that highway out of Atlanta... she'd been trembling, clutching that boy in her arms, scared out of her damn mind. Both of them were. Couldn't blame them. World had gone to hell overnight.

I let myself sink back into it—into that first night.

~~~

The sun had gone down fast. Shadows stretched long over the highway, rows of dead cars glinting dull in the dark. A dozen of us huddled on the shoulder—strangers bound together because we didn't have anywhere else to go.

The kid wouldn't stop crying. Small, muffled whimpers against his mama's shirt, too tired to scream anymore, too scared to sleep.

I kept my distance at first. Didn't want Merle noticing the way I was lookin'. Woman like that—big eyes, scared but steady—he'd have circled her like a vulture.

"Mama," the boy whimpered again, clutching her tighter.

"I know, baby," she whispered, rocking him gently. Her voice was soft, frayed at the edges but soothing all the same. "It's gonna be alright. Mama's got you."

Merle snorted and rolled his eyes. "Christ, if I gotta hear that kid one more—"

"Why don't you tail it up the road a bit," I cut him off sharp. "See if there's a way through this mess."

He shot me a look but grunted and wandered off, muttering under his breath.

I moved closer. Couldn't help it.

She looked up at me then. Eyes deep brown, wide and wary, but not weak. Not by a damn sight.

"Do you know how long this traffic's supposed to last?" she asked.

I shook my head.

She nodded, shifting the boy—Ian, I'd later learn—higher on her hip. "I just... I heard there was a safe zone at Fort Benning."

"Same," I said, voice rough.

She studied me for a second, then asked, "Was that a friend you were with?"

"Brother," I replied.

Silence stretched for a beat, broken only by Ian's soft hiccups.

Then she cleared her throat. "I'm Ella. This is Ian."

"Daryl," I said.

Her lips twitched, just barely, like she was trying to hold it together for him.

Before I could say more, a sound split the air.

BOOM.

An explosion lit up the distant skyline—the city burning bright against the night. A chorus of gasps rippled through the group. Ian buried his face in Ella's neck with a wail.

Ella froze, clutching him tight, staring wide-eyed at the fireball painting the horizon. I stepped closer, close enough to shield her if I had to. Didn't touch her—wasn't sure I should—but I was ready.

And then came the groans.

Low. Hungry.

Walkers.

They spilled out of the treeline behind us, shadows lurching, teeth snapping. Someone screamed.

"Shit," I hissed, drawing my crossbow in one fluid motion.

Ella gasped, spinning to put Ian behind her. She didn't have a weapon. Hell, she didn't even have a knife.

Instinct hit me like a hammer.

I moved—fast. One bolt through the first walker's skull, knife out for the second, kicking it back before it got close.

"Stay behind me," I barked, planting myself between her and the herd.

She didn't argue. Just clutched Ian tighter and backed up slow.

Another walker lunged. I caught it, blade to temple, yanking free as it dropped.

The others in the group scattered, swinging bats, pipes, anything they had. The air stank of rot and smoke, the moans drowning out everything but my heartbeat.

A hand brushed my arm—Ella, trembling, clutching my sleeve like it was her lifeline. I didn't look back, just shifted closer, shoulder brushing hers as I fired another bolt.

"Keep your boy's head down," I muttered.

She nodded, voice breaking. "Thank you."

Didn't know why I cared. Didn't know why it mattered more than anything else.

But it did.

Even then—when I didn't who she was, didn't know her story—some part of me knew.

I wasn't letting anything touch her.

~~~

I blinked back to now, sitting on that picnic table, my knife forgotten in my lap.

Out on the field, Ella was laughing at something Ian said, ruffling his hair before guiding his hand on the knife hilt. Confident. Strong. Fierce in a way that still knocked me on my ass sometimes.

Hard to believe that scared woman on the highway and the fighter I loved now were the same person.

But damn if I didn't remember it all.

And damn if I wasn't glad I'd been there.

The clang of the gate chain jolted me back to the present.

"Saviors incoming!" a guard shouted from the watchtower.

My body went rigid.

I locked eyes with Ella across the field. No words—just instinct. I bolted, legs pounding, and so did she. I scooped Ian up and slung him over my shoulder without breaking stride, my other arm locking tight around Ella's waist.

We ran full tilt toward the hidden exit Maggie had shown us.

"Daryl!" Maggie hissed from ahead, crouched low near the path with Enid and—my stomach soured—Beth. "We can't make it out in time!"

The gates were already opening. Saviors pouring in like wolves.

"The cellar," Enid said sharply.

I spun—and froze.

Ruby.

Beth was holding my daughter.

My gut twisted hard, heat flooding my chest. My fingers itched to rip Ruby right out of her arms. I didn't trust Beth—not around me, sure as hell not around Ella, and never around my kid.

I prayed Ella hadn't noticed. If she saw? It'd be a different kind of bloodbath.

We didn't have time to argue. I shoved forward, jaw tight, forcing myself to focus on the bigger threat. We ran hard, ducking low, Ruby's soft cries muffled against Beth's shoulder. Each one cut through me like a blade.

Enid reached the cellar doors, yanking them open. Everyone piled in fast.

I let Beth pass me, my eyes glued to Ruby the whole way, before charging down the stairs with Ian slung over my shoulder. The second my boots hit dirt, I thrust Ian down beside Ella, spun, and strode for Beth.

I didn't ask. I didn't speak. I pried Ruby out of her arms, my grip white-knuckled.

"Don't you ever," I growled, voice low, dangerous, "touch my daughter again."

Beth's lips parted like she might argue, but she only made a faint, mocking noise in her throat.

Before I could snarl back, Ella hit the bottom of the stairs, knives in one hand, bow slung across her back. Even in the dim light, I saw her jaw tighten when she spotted Beth. Her eyes flicked to Ruby in my arms, then to my face, sharp and knowing.

She didn't speak. Didn't have to.

Maggie and Beth shoved a shelving unit aside, clearing just enough space behind it for us all to squeeze in. Close. Too damn close.

I pressed my back to Ella's, Ruby cradled against my chest, Ian tucked against her side. Beth was only a foot away, and I could feel Ella stiffen every time Beth shifted. The tension in that cramped dark space was thick enough to choke on.

"Where's Sasha? Rosita?" I whispered, knife tight in my fist.

"They must've made it to the exit tunnel," Beth murmured.

I ignored her voice. My focus tunneled down to the sounds above—the creak of the cellar door, boots pounding on stone steps.

The air went cold.

I shoved Ella and the kids back, my arm sweeping across them, knife drawn. I reached behind me and felt Ella's hand press a blade into mine without hesitation.

Footsteps thudded closer. Heavy. Deliberate. A shadow passed near, slow and searching.

The Savior grunted, fingers scraping across jars and tools on the shelves inches from us. Ruby shifted against me with a soft whimper, and my heart stopped.

I held her tight, rocking just slightly, whispering against her head, Shh, baby girl. Daddy's got you.

The Savior reached higher, grabbed something from a shelf—a jar clinked. He paused.

I shifted forward, ready to spring, blade raised—

A hand shot out, gripping my arm. Maggie. Her head shook once, sharp.

The Savior hesitated, then turned, boots pounding up the stairs. The cellar door slammed shut.

We stayed frozen in the dark. Breathing shallow. Hearts pounding.

I didn't relax. Not even when his footsteps faded. Not even when Maggie whispered, "He's gone."

My grip on Ruby didn't ease. My eyes stayed locked on Beth through the dark.

She didn't look back, but I saw the faint curl of her lips.

I crept up to the door, Ruby on my hip, knife thumping quietly against the wood.

"What the hell," Ella hissed at me. "You were going to kill him! With our daughter in your arms, no less! What is wrong with you, Daryl?!"

"I would've handed her to you first." I muttered, peering out between the slats in the door.

"Really? Sure didn't look like you were gonna." Ella scoffed.

"I'm tryin' to keep us safe," I snapped. "I wasn't thinkin'."

"No shit," she snapped back.

"He was gonna find us," I said.

"He wasn't," Maggie said, her voice quiet. "And he didn't."

I turned slowly, facing the girls. "He deserved to die. They all do. For what they did to us. What they did to-"

I watched Maggie's face soften. Tears pricked at my eyes. I sniffled, trying desperately to hold them back. Glenn was Maggie's husband, what right did I have, crying over him, when his pregnant wife stood so close, holding her shit together?

"Daryl," Maggie murmured, her hand landing gently on my arm. "Look at me. Please."

I turned to face her head on, the burning in my eyes intensifying.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice cracking. "He was your- He was my-"

Maggie squeezed my arm. "I know. Trust me, I want to kill them all. I want to string them up and watch them bleed out for what they did to him. But we have to keep our heads. We have to stay calm, wait for our moment. We have to win."

Maggie pulled me into a hug. I stiffened as she closed her arms around me. I couldn't bring myself to hug her back.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

Maggie released me, her hands squeezing my arms as she pulled away from me.

"We're going to win. I promise. We'll get our revenge." She said.

The cellar door slammed shut behind us, Maggie bolting it tight. We'd slipped out through the tunnel and circled around to the far side of Hilltop once the Saviors cleared out, but the air still felt thick, buzzing with leftover fear.

Everyone exhaled like they'd been holding their breath for hours. Everyone but Ella.

I saw it immediately—the rigid set of her shoulders, the way her jaw locked tight. Her hand flexed once near the hilt of her knife before she even holstered it.

Oh hell.

I knew that look.

And then she turned, slow and sharp, eyes locking on Beth.

"You."

Beth froze, blinking like she hadn't just been standing there holding my daughter minutes ago.

I shifted Ruby higher against my chest, my stomach twisting. Oh fuck. Here we go.

Beth tilted her head, fake-innocent. "What?"

"You held my daughter," Ella said, voice low enough to rattle bone.

Beth rolled her eyes, arms crossing. "I was helping."

Helping.

My grip on Ruby tightened.

Ella's laugh was sharp and humorless. "Helping? You don't touch my kids. Ever. You don't even look at them."

Beth smirked. "What did you want me to do, Ella? Leave her crying on the ground?"

Ella took a step forward, deliberate, predatory.

Here it comes. Round two. I'd seen it before, months ago—Beth ignoring every "no" outta my mouth, her kissing me against my will, confessing every detail to Ella and me having to literally drag my wife off her. Beth walked away bleeding that day, and it hadn't even been enough to cool Ella down.

"You don't get to be around my kids," Ella hissed. "Not after what you pulled. Months ago, you went after my husband—even when he told you no. Even when you knew. And now you think you can put your hands on my baby?"

Beth scoffed, sharp and defensive. "That was months ago, Ella. Get over it. You think I care about Daryl now?"

My voice came out low, dangerous: "Watch it."

Beth faltered, her smirk flickering. But Ella didn't blink.

"You remember our last fight?" Ella asked, her voice steady as a blade. "Remember how it ended?"

Beth's face twitched. Yeah. She remembered—her lip split, claw marks down her face, Ella's fists flying until I hauled her back.

Before Ella could take another step, Maggie shoved herself between them, palms out.

"Enough!" Maggie barked, glancing between them. "Not here, not now."

Ella's nostrils flared, eyes still locked on Beth over Maggie's shoulder.

"Mags," Beth snapped, "she's fucking insane—"

"Shut up, Beth!" Maggie snapped back, then turned to Ella. "I get it. I do. But she's my sister. And if either of you start swinging again, we'll have a hell of a bigger problem on our hands than the Saviors."

I stepped closer, shifting Ruby against me, ready to grab Ella if she lunged. And hell if I wouldn't blame her. The tension rolling off her had my gut tight.

Beth crossed her arms, chin high like she'd won something just because Maggie stood in the middle.

Ella's voice cut low, sharp as ever: "You come near my kids again, Beth, and Maggie won't be fast enough next time. I mean it."

Beth flinched. Tried to cover it. Failed.

I swear, for a second, I almost saw Ella move.

I slid my free arm around her waist, grounding her, tugging her just enough to break her line of sight. "C'mon," I murmured, low enough just for her.

Her eyes lingered one last second on Beth before she finally stepped back, muscles still tight as wire.

We turned for the door, Ian close at my side.

Behind us, Maggie let out a sharp breath. "You two are gonna be the death of me," she muttered.

Enid, leaning against the wall with her arms folded, smirked. "If Ella ever swings, my money's still on her."

Beth glared. Ella didn't look back.

And me?

I held Ruby tighter, steering my wife toward the door, proud as hell she hadn't swung—this time. But if Beth so much as breathed wrong again?

I wouldn't stop her.

~

I shut the trailer door behind us with a solid click, leaning my crossbow against the wall. For the first time since the Saviors showed up, it was quiet. Just us.

Ella set her bow aside, jaw tight, still bristling like she was ready to storm back out there and finish what she started. Ian climbed into his little mattress in the corner, Ruby stirring soft in my arms.

"Mom?" Ian mumbled, sleepy and oblivious.

Ella smoothed his hair. "It's fine, baby. Go on, get some rest."

He nodded, curling up quick, out like a light within minutes. I laid Ruby in her crib, rubbed her back until she settled, her tiny breaths soft and steady.

When I turned back, Ella was standing dead center of the trailer, arms crossed, eyes dark.

I stepped in close, resting my hands on her hips. "You alright?"

She huffed, staring past me for a second before muttering, "She touched Ruby, Daryl. After everything—"

"I know," I said, voice low, steady.

"I swear, I almost—"

"—beat the hell outta her?" I finished, smirking just a little.

That got her to blink at me, fire still in her eyes. "Don't joke."

"Who's jokin'?" I murmured, leaning in closer. "Hell, I was standin' there thinkin' the same damn thing. Saw that look on your face and thought, Oh fuck, here we go. Ella's gonna beat the ever-loving shit outta her again."

Her mouth twitched, caught between a scowl and a laugh.

I brushed my thumb over her hip. "Ain't sayin' she didn't deserve it. Just proud you didn't give Maggie a front-row seat this time."

Ella shook her head, glancing down, then back up at me. "I meant it, Daryl. She comes near my kids again—"

I tilted her chin up gently. "I know."

And I did. Every word. I'd seen her in that cellar, pressed tight against me, trembling not from fear but from fury. I'd seen her ready to swing on Beth months ago, and hell if I didn't know she'd do it again without blinking.

I slid my hand to the small of her back, pulling her closer until her forehead rested against my chest.

"She ain't touchin' Ruby again," I murmured into her hair. "Not while I'm breathin'. You hear me?"

She let out a slow breath, tension bleeding out as she sagged into me.

"Promise?" she whispered.

"Promise," I said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

We stood there a minute, just breathing. The sound of Ian's soft snores and Ruby's quiet coos filling the space, grounding us in something real, something safe.

Finally, Ella tipped her head back to look at me, her fire tempered but still burning low. "You really thought I was gonna swing on her, huh?"

I smirked, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek. "Darlin', I knew you were. Saw it comin' a mile away. And I ain't gonna lie... kinda glad you didn't."

Her brow arched. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," I said, lips quirking. "'Cause if you had, Maggie might've had to drag you off Beth, and then I'd've had to drag you off Maggie."

That earned me a laugh—a real one, quiet but warm.

I leaned in, kissed her soft, slow, my hands still holding her close.

She melted against me, her fingers curling into my shirt.

When we pulled back, I rested my forehead against hers, whispering, "Ain't nobody messin' with our family, Ella. Not Beth. Not the Saviors. Nobody."

Her eyes softened, her hand pressing against my chest where my heart beat steady. "Damn right," she murmured.

And standing there, holding her with our kids safe and asleep nearby, I knew one thing clear as day:

Anybody who even thought about trying would have to go through both of us.

Later that night, the world was still.

Ian was sprawled out on his little mattress, dead to the world, one arm hanging off the side like he'd melted in his sleep. Ruby was curled in her crib, soft little breaths steady and slow.

Ella was tucked against me in bed, her head resting on my chest, fingers absently tracing over the scar on my ribs like she always did when she couldn't sleep right away.

She tilted her chin up slightly. "You're quiet."

I huffed a small laugh. "Ain't I always?"

She smiled faintly at that, but her fingers didn't stop moving. "This is different. You're thinking about something."

I hesitated, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "...Was thinkin' 'bout the day we met. Funny enough, I'd been thinkin' on it earlier too."

That got her attention. Her head shifted on my chest so she could look at me. "Today?"

"Mm." I nodded, glancing down at her. "When you were out there teachin' knives. Saw you with Ian, showin' him his grip—reminded me of how damn small he looked that night on the highway. And you..." I let out a slow breath, thumb still tracing lazy circles on her side. "You were terrified. But you didn't back down."

Her expression softened, her eyes searching mine. "I was terrified," she admitted quietly.

"Yeah," I said gently. "But you held it together for him. You didn't even know me, but hell... I couldn't stop watchin'. You didn't see me back then, but I was standin' guard whether I knew why or not."

She smiled faintly, her hand settling over my chest. "I didn't see you, but I felt you. I knew someone was close."

"Damn right I was." My voice went rougher without me meaning it to. "Whole night I kept thinkin'—don't let her wander too far, don't let that boy cry too loud, keep an eye on 'em. Couldn't explain it then. Guess I don't need to anymore."

Her hand curled against my shirt, her voice barely above a whisper. "You were there before I even knew I needed you."

I dipped my head, kissed her hair. "Ain't never gonna stop bein' there."

She nestled closer, her breath warm against my chest, and I felt that tension in her shoulders finally ease.

"You think about it often?" she murmured.

"More than I should," I admitted. "Guess seein' you today—watchin' you train all them folks like you were born for it—just made me realize how far we come. You ain't that scared woman on the highway no more."

Her smile pressed against me, small but proud. "And Ian's not that trembling little boy."

"Hell no," I muttered, smirking faintly. "Boy's dangerous now. Ain't sure if I should be proud or worried."

"Proud," she said softly, her fingers brushing my jaw. "Be proud, Daryl. We made it here. Together."

I tilted my head down, kissed her slow and deep, the kind that said everything I couldn't. When we pulled apart, I rested my forehead against hers.

"Damn right," I murmured.

We lay there in the quiet, her warmth pressed to me, the sound of our kids sleeping steady in the dark. For the first time all day, my chest felt lighter.

Yeah. We'd come a hell of a long way.

And I wasn't ever letting go.