Almost

My mouth gaped in surprise as I swung open the door of my apartment to find Selene standing in front of me, clutching an overnight bag and a bottle of wine.

"What the hell are you doing here!?" I asked her.

"That's no way to greet your baby sis!" she replied.

"I'm just surprised... I'm so happy to see you. Come in!"

My younger sister and I had always been close. Only two years separated us in age, and we'd grown up having the same interests and hobbies, only she was better at them... Our parents had always supported us in our chosen extra-curriculars, despite them probably wishing that we'd just take ballet like most little girls. That wasn't us - we wanted to show the boys who was boss. It started with karate, then Mixed Martial Arts - graduating to the point that both of us had started to compete and bring home awards. We just loved to kick ass!

"Girl's night!?" she asked excitedly, already opening the bottle she'd brought.

"Selene, I have a shift I can't afford to miss out on, plus they're already short-staffed. I was just about to head out. My manager will kill me if I don't show up."

She pouted, knowing how hard it was for me to say no to her, but I stood my ground - I had to - my rent was already overdue and my car was making a sound like a seal being attacked by a walrus. I just knew it was going to cost me a fortune to fix. Besides, I had no idea she was even planning a visit.

"Fiiine. Tonight, I rest. Tomorrow, we get drunk and talk shit... Deal?"

"Deal!" I told her, pulling her into a hug and saying goodbye just for now.

~

"Athena! Wake up, woman."

I startled awake to find Daryl looming over my bed, his eyes wide with concern. Day was breaking behind him, filtering in through the windows of the main cellblock. My skin was slicked with sweat, and I couldn't stop my body from shaking violently.

"Ya' were screamin'." He told me, straightening up and stepping away from my bed.

I struggled to get my breath, my heart feeling like it could pound out of my chest.

"Sorry." I finally managed to rasp out, my throat still constricted.

"What's goin' on with ya..?

"I don't know." I lied, not daring to catch his eye.

We'd been at the prison for a week now, and I was not adapting well to our new environment. I was okay in the rest of the building, but my cell felt suffocating. I'd barely slept, having those awful nightmares that I'd dealt with for years on the odd occasion that I did manage to find rest. I'd spent most evenings sitting out on the roof, watching the stars. I'd figured out the best place to sit - concealed by a concrete block and out of the prying eyes of whoever's turn it was to watch from the tower.

Daryl had noticed me sneaking out onto the roof when I thought everybody was asleep. The first time - he'd left me to it, thinking I just needed a change of scenery, but two nights ago he'd followed me, demanding to know why I kept opting to be out there rather than inside.

"Why ya out here again?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same thing." I replied huffily.

"Wanted to check on ya."

"Just leave me alone, please."

I hadn't let him in - pretending that I couldn't sleep because I was worried about Hershel now he'd lost his leg, and Lori with the baby coming in a couple of months - which I was, it just wasn't the real reason I couldn't bear to be in my cell.

He chewed on the corner of his bottom lip, eyes searching my face for more information, but I didn't offer any.

"Let's get outta here." He'd finally offered.

"Huh?" I raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"There's a place I wanna check out."

Within an hour, we were making our way out of the cellblock and toward our vehicles. I was thrilled at the idea of leaving the prison for a few hours, especially with such a handsome companion.

We'd found and raided the infirmary of the prison days ago, but resources in there were scant. We needed proper medical supplies, especially with the state Hershel was in. Maggie had mentioned an animal hospital around forty-five minutes drive away that we hadn't checked yet, so that's where we were headed.

I'd just reached the cars when I realised Daryl wasn't with me. I scanned around before spotting him manoeuvring his bike into position.

"We driving separate?" I asked him, confused.

"Nah. We'll take the bike." He replied.

I think my jaw may actually have dropped for a moment. Daryl had never let anyone ride with him on his bike. The man almost had a panic attack when anybody got closer than a few feet from him, yet here he was - inviting me onto his Honda Triumph.

He climbed on first before I swung my leg over and shimmied on behind him. The engine roared to life, and there was a moment where I didn't know what to do with myself. Daryl hated being touched, but surely he knew I needed to wrap my arms around his waist as we rode..?

So I did.

I slid forward and tentatively placed my arms around his waist, allowing them to meet at his stomach. He tensed instantly, every part of him becoming rigid.

I could have sworn I felt his breathing hitch.

Despite Daryl suddenly turning into a statue, I felt like his body was sending electricity hurtling through mine, warming me from the inside. Every inch of the redneck's body was chiselled. I could feel the muscles in his sides pressing up against my arms, his toned abdominals beneath my fingers.

I held my body closer to him as Carol swung open the gate, allowing us to exit, pressing up against his back, feeling the definition of it against my chest and tightening my grip around his waist.

His scent was intoxicating. Aside from the time at the CDC when he'd shielded me from the grenade's explosion, we'd never physically been this close. I inhaled his masculine aroma - a mixture of sweat, trees, and leather. I watched as the tendrils at the rear of his growing hair moved in the wind, beads of perspiration rolling down the back of his neck, despite the temperature being icy.

It took Daryl almost the whole journey to relax with me wrapped around him, but as we approached our destination, I could finally feel his body easing.

The air was thick with the stench of rot as we dismounted the bike and walked toward the abandoned animal hospital, its once pristine white exterior now mottled with grime and claw marks.

Daryl entered first, crossbow in hand, his movements fluid and purposeful, as though he were a predator stalking prey - which I guess in a way he was. I followed close behind, clutching my knife tightly. I didn't feel at all myself today. The lack of sleep and constant claustrophobia I'd battled for the past week had shot my nerves to shit. Running into walkers didn't usually faze me, but today, I felt different.

"Ya ready?" he asked.

"Always am." I lied.

The hospital lobby was a mess of overturned chairs, broken glass, and splintered wood. Paw prints, smeared in dried blood, marred the tiled floor. It was eerily quiet, save for the distant groans of walkers.

Daryl raised his hand, signalling me to stop, then pointed to a door marked 'Storage.' Relief flickered in my chest, hopefully, it would contain the supplies we came for.

"Cover me." he said, slipping inside.

I stood in the doorway, scanning the shadows, the weight of silence pressing down on me. Seconds stretched into minutes until he re-emerged, carrying a now bulging bag that had been empty when we arrived.

"Jackpot!" he announced, just as a low, guttural snarl echoed from down the hall.

I barely had time to react before a walker lunged at me, its gaping mouth snapping inches from my face. I stumbled back, swinging my knife wildly, and the blade sank into its temple with a sickening squelch.

"Shit!" Daryl hissed as more walkers emerged from the shadows, drawn by the commotion.

He fired his crossbow, the bolt finding its mark in a walker's skull. Another followed, and I barely managed to dodge its grasping hands before Daryl yanked me toward him.

"This way!" he barked, dragging me down a narrow corridor.

We sprinted past examination rooms, their doors hanging ajar. The groans were growing louder, closer. It sounded like there were far more than we could realistically handle - especially with me being off my game.

Daryl shoved open a door and pushed me inside. The room was cramped, barely large enough for the two of us. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with boxes of bandages and old files. He pulled the door shut behind us, plunging us into darkness.

We pushed our backs against the cold, metal shelving unit and stood side-by-side, our breathing harsh and uneven. Outside, the growls and shuffling footsteps grew louder, then paused just beyond the door.

I could feel him beside me, his presence a solid reassurance in the suffocating space. I felt the heat emanating from him. It grounded me even as fear clawed at my throat.

"They'll move on," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. It made my pulse race knowing that he was so close to me, his lips so near.

I nodded, though he couldn't see it. My heart thundered in my chest, and I felt sweat trickling down my forehead.

Daryl shifted, his arm brushing against mine. There was no space for him to keep his usual distance. Even in the dark, I could feel his gaze on me, sharp and assessing.

"Ya' okay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah." I lied.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The only sounds were the faint scrape of walkers outside and the rhythmic thudding of my pulse.

"Yur shakin'." he said.

"I'm fine." I whispered, though my voice betrayed me.

"Bullshit." he muttered, but there was no edge to it. Just concern.

The silence stretched, heavy and charged. I turned my head, even though I couldn't see him in the dark. My body was acutely aware of his, the narrow space forcing us closer than we'd ever been. I manoeuvred myself to face him, I needed to tell him I was sorry for being useless in the face of the walkers, that I wasn't able to fight like he'd seen me so many times before, that I was broken.

"Daryl..." I started, my voice barely above a whisper.

He shifted, and suddenly, his face was inches from mine. I could feel the heat of his breath, could imagine the way his intense blue eyes might be searching mine. My chest tightened, and for a moment, the fear and chaos outside the door melted away, leaving just us.

His hand moved upward, hesitating beside my cheek and then retracting. I couldn't see it, but I sensed the movement. My breath halted, and I felt the world tilt slightly, as though gravity itself had shifted.

And then the moment shattered.

A loud crash echoed from down the hall, followed by the guttural cries of more walkers. Daryl pulled back, clearing his throat.

"They're movin' off." he said gruffly, though his voice was tighter than usual.

I nodded, swallowing hard as reality rushed back in.

When the sounds faded completely, he cracked the door open, peering out.

"Clear." he murmured, stepping out cautiously.

I followed, my legs still trembling, though whether from fear or something else, I wasn't sure.

Daryl turned to look at me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I thought he might say something, but then he just nodded and started down the hall.

I took a deep breath and followed, the memory of his almost-touch lingering like a ghost on my skin.

"Ain't never seen ya' like that." He commented as we reached the outside of the hospital, setting himself down against the wall facing the building, his legs bent in front of him. He pulled a crumpled pack of Marlboro Lights out of his pocket.

I didn't respond, didn't look at him.

He produced a lighter and used it to spark up his cigarette, then placed it between his lips and took a long drag, eyeing me the whole time.

I stood awkwardly a few feet away from him, feeling uncomfortable in the silence, but unsure what to say. Eventually, I moved over to the wall beside him, skating down until I was sitting also, knees pulled up to my chest and my arms wrapped around them.

"Ya' ain't gotta talk." Daryl said gently, eyes facing forwards now, "Don't gotta tell me nothin'... Ya' just ain't right, though."

His observation was spot on. I felt like a completely different person from the woman he'd known just a few days ago. I was quiet, irritable, and difficult to be around. He wasn't the only one that had noticed, I could tell that the rest of the group were tiptoeing around me.

The way I'd responded to the walkers inside of the animal hospital was all the proof Daryl needed to know that something was, in fact, going on with me. I'd lost my edge - the fire that made me such a strong, fearless fighter. It felt like every part of me was ebbing away.

"The prison." I finally spoke, voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Ya don't like bein' there?" he asked, his eyes still facing forward. It was almost like he knew that he'd get more out of me by not watching me, not adding more pressure.

I hated being there.

"It's safe." I responded, dodging his question.

"Yeah."

We sat in silence for another few minutes, even after he'd finished his cigarette.

"Ya ain't never gotta tell me nothin'." he reiterated, "but ya' can..."

I couldn't respond.

He was wrong. I couldn't talk to him. Not about what was really going on in my head. He'd hate me, think I was a monster. He'd never want anything to do with me again, nor would the rest of the group.

"Better be gettin' back." he said, turning to face me now. His eyes still showed concern, but he'd accepted that I wasn't going to open up.

The journey back to the prison felt different. Daryl still tensed up when I snaked my arms around his waist, pressing up against him, but he relaxed sooner this time. I buried my head into his back and savored his scent, feeling the comfort of his warmth.

For the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt emotion welling up in me, threatening to escape. I didn't cry - no release of my turmoil came, but I felt it. I was becoming weaker. I couldn't let that happen - The group needed me to be strong.

When we pulled back up at the prison, Glenn swinging the gate open for us this time, any relief I'd felt at being out in the open quickly evaporated. As Daryl parked the bike, I couldn't bring myself to let go of him. I made the most of us being so close, feeling his warmth against me, just for a few extra seconds. I imagine he noticed, but he didn't react - just let me rest on him.

When I finally released my hold, I instantly felt a pang of sadness, grieving the comfort of our closeness. I skipped dinner. I couldn't face sitting around the metal tables of the cellblock with everyone, knowing they were all apprehensive of me and my recent mood swings. I stalked straight up the stairs and to my cell, not even having the desire to venture to my rooftop escape. I just needed to not think, not exist for a while.

After dinner, I became aware of a presence at the door-less entrance to my cell. I sensed it was Daryl, but feigned sleep. I couldn't face him. I couldn't face any of them, but especially not the man I'd come to rely on to ground me. I'd lied to him, let him believe I was a good person. It was only a matter of time before he discovered what I really was and abandoned me forever.

I replayed my moment with him in the supply closet. His face was so close to mine, his lips, his scent. The way I knew he'd reached up to touch me before pulling away, how badly I wished he hadn't stopped himself. I let the memory spin around in my head, distracting me from the torture within, until I finally fell asleep.

Please vote and comment - I get super nervous posting new chapters, so it's so helpful to know your thoughts! ❤️