Breaking the Dam

The air in the prison always smelled stale, heavy with the lingering aroma of all the death that happened here. Before we made the gloomy structure our home, countless prisoners and guards had lost their lives within these walls. Then we arrived, and obliterated God knows how many walkers as we took the place. Blood can be cleaned from the walls and the floors, the bodies burned, but you can never fully eradicate the smell of decay after it's seeped deep into the bones of a building.

This morning, things felt different. There was an edge to the place, a tension so thick it seemed to creep into the cracks of the walls. Something was wrong. We could all feel it, even if no one wanted to say it out loud.

I stood in the common area, folding laundry. It wasn't much - some patched-up shirts, a blanket we'd scavenged from the storage room - but it was something to keep my hands busy, something to distract me from the weight of the unknown. Hershel laughed when he saw me being such a domestic goddess.

"Are you feeling alright, Athena?" he joked, looking between me and the pile of laundry.

"Simmer down, Captain Barbosa." I teased him back.

Hershel's leg, or lack thereof, was healing well. Glenn hand found some crutches in the infirmary, and the farmer was getting the hang of using them. He'd had good humor about his amputation from the start, laughing along when I called him every one-legged movie character I could think of. He was just glad to be alive - that he hadn't left his daughters orphaned.

Across the room, Beth was teaching Carl a song - they harmonised well together, the sound a fragile thread of peace in an otherwise restless day.

Then I saw him-Daryl, pacing near the cell block entrance. His crossbow was slung low over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the room like he was expecting trouble. Maybe he was. Daryl always had a sixth sense for danger, a way of knowing when the world was about to go sideways.

"Daryl." I called, setting the laundry down and walking toward him.

He glanced at me briefly, his face unreadable. "What?"

"You're being weird."

"I ain't." he muttered, shifting his weight.

I frowned, crossing my arms and lowering my voice to almost a whisper, "You changed your mind about me or something? Now you've had time to think about what I told you?"

"No." he snapped, cutting me off. His voice was low, but there was an edge to it that made me flinch. "I told ya' it didn't matter. Quit hasslin' me."

I stared at him, hurt blooming in my chest. He'd always been guarded, but this was different. He wasn't just distant - he was cold.

"Fine." I said quietly, stepping back. "If you don't want to talk, that's on you."

He didn't respond. He just turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with my heart pounding and a million questions swirling in my head.

He'd been reassuring when I confessed my sins to him on the roof, holding my hand and telling me that me revealing my dark past didn't change anything. The following morning, he was fine, too.

"Daryl, about what I told you...""I ain't gonna tell nobody." He'd replied, as if reading my mind.

But by the next day he'd started acting off with me, barely speaking to me and avoiding any twosie alone time at all costs. He'd even been taking extra watches overnight, so we weren't in the perch together. I'd given him space, but it had been a week now, and my redneck roommate still didn't want anything to do with me. It broke my heart.

On a more positive note, Rick had finally agreed to let Axel and Oscar integrate with us more. They still had to sleep in a separate cellblock, but most of the others were now trying to get to know them when we were all outside in the yard. I was glad - the pair had really grown on me, and i'd often spend time talking with Oscar. Just this morning, we'd been giggling to ourselves as we watched Axel pretend to know all about motorbikes, to try and win Daryl over. It didn't work, but it was funny as hell.

I was heading to the showers after the laundry - and my frosty conversation with Daryl - were over with, when I noticed Rick sitting on a bunk in one of the empty cells, a glazed look gracing his features.

"You doing okay?" I asked him, concerned.

"Mmh." He mumbled in response.

I was close to Rick, but aside from the one hug that he gave me the farm when Daryl was hurt. We hadn't really done the heartfelt stuff. I could just tell today, though, that he wasn't himself, and I was at my limit with moody-assed men, so I pushed.

"That translates to no. Rick, what's going on?"

I plonked myself down on the bunk beside him - a clear indication that I wouldn't be letting my question go.

He sighed, a deep, guttural sigh - the type you do when you're past yourself, completely beaten and drained. He looked at me, deep in thought for a moment.

"It's not mine." He finally volunteered.

"What isn't?"

"The baby."

I was dumbfounded for a second before I reminded myself that I should probably say something.

"What do you mean, Rick?"

"That it's not my baby inside Lori."

"But... what... how?"

He gave me a deliberate glance, encouraging me to find the answer that was right in front of me.

"Oh." Was all I could say.

Shane.

I knew there had been something going on with him, Rick and Lori - but I did not expect it to be this.

Channelling my inner Daryl, I asked him, "Does it matter?"

Rick looked appalled at my suggestion, but I maintained my composure.

"I get it. It's fucking shitty - your wife being knocked up with somebody else's baby. You must be so angry at her." I continued, "but blood isn't what matters anymore."

His expression cycled from horrified to confused, to pensive, before he asked, "Isn't it?" almost sarcastically.

"Nope. Look at the group - we're not blood, not most of us - we're still family though. That child will be your son or daughter in the same way they'll be all of our son or daughter. We're in this together. It doesn't matter who shares whose DNA anymore - the world is different now, we love and protect each other at all costs because we're one big, dysfunctional family."

Rick didn't speak, but he nodded half-heartedly. I saw my opportunity to dig a little and I took it.

"Shane and Lori, did it happen before or after the apocalypse?"

"She says after, before I found her."

"You don't believe her?"

"I don't know. Yeah I do... I guess."

I'd never seen Rick like this before, he was always so tough, so resilient, but now he looked broken.

"Lori genuinely believed you were dead Rick." I explained, "I know she did because I'd asked her why she was at the quarry already, when you'd only made it there just before me. Shane had told her you were gone."

He winced slightly at Shane's name.

"She thought her husband was dead. The world had actually ended. Can you imagine how desperate she must have been feeling? I asked, "Yeah, hooking up with Shane was a bad move, for sure, but she'll have just done whatever it took to relieve that pain. We've all fucked people to distract ourselves from our own hurt Rick. I have, and I'd do it again if anything happened to Da - someone I cared about."

I hadn't corrected myself quickly enough. Rick knew what I'd began to say. My cheeks burned as he smiled at me knowingly.

"So you and Daryl... what is actually happening there?" He asked, smirking.

At least he looked happier, even if it was my humiliation causing it...

"What? Nothing!" I insisted, a little too sharply.

"Athena."

"Stop it." I uttered as I gave him a dig on the shoulder - harder than I actually meant to.

"Ow! Okay, you guys carry on pretending."

"We're not pretending anything."

"Yeah, sure." He chuckled.

"Rick." I attempted to distract him, "Talk to Lori, she's probably only weeks away from giving birth, and I can't imagine how terrified she must be bringing a baby into this world."

"Tonight." He replied. "Once Carl's asleep."

~

Lori and Beth had convinced Hershel that he should try to get some fresh air now he was getting the hang of his crutches - I went outside with them just for the entertainment. I loved the old farmer dearly but it's always funny seeing people fall over, besides, I was trying to keep my mind off of a certain grumpy, southern stallion. Unfortunately he also happened to be outside, ignoring me as was always the case now.

Hershel had made it half way across the open space, when, out of nowhere, walkers started flooding the courtyard. It way mayhem. Beth dragged Hershel behind a sturdy fence to safety while Lori joined Maggie and Carl, who'd been having a little one-to-one knife handling session, running back into the building.

I joined Daryl, Rick and Glenn in taking down our new visitors. Axel and Oscar joined the fight too. It was a lot easier now we had more ammo and could use our guns again. Shots fired in symphony as we managed to halt the onslaught.

As we were clearing the bodies, wondering what the hell had just happened, Glenn noticed that the gate had been cut open. This had clearly allowed entry to the rotting mouth-breathers whose guts I was currently cleaning off of my shoes.

Rick and Daryl were quick to accuse the prisoners, but there was no doubt in my mind that Oscar and Axel hadn't been the ones to do it. They were working hard to join us, why would the try to put us all at risk?

Daryl lost his temper with Oscar in particular, grabbing him and demanding to know why he'd done it. I don't know if it was my fondness of Oscar or how annoyed I was at Daryl for the way he'd been acting recently, but I snapped. I stepped in between the pair, shoving his arms off of the frightened looking inmate and facing him directly.

"Daryl, stop!" I yelled at him in frustration. It wasn't him! It wasn't either of them!"

"Yeah!? How ya know!? He raged back.

"I just do. So calm the fuck down. Whatever's gotten into you at the moment - you can't keep taking it out on other people."

Pot. Kettle. Black... But I'd moved on from my angst now so it wasn't quite as hypocritical as it would have been a couple of weeks ago.

Daryl half-looked like he wanted to head butt me for a second, but turned on his heel to walk away for the second time this morning, and what felt like the millionth time this week.

I was about to go after him, plead with him to talk to me, when a deafening alarm started blaring through the air.

Fuck.

"That's going to draw every walker in the city!" Glenn yelled, but we could barely hear him over the booming sound.

"Must be the back up generators makin' it happen." Axel screamed to nobody in particular.

I didn't wait for anybody else's response. I was already moving, my boots pounding against the concrete floor as I ran toward the source of the noise. I'd seen the generator before, I knew where it was. I needed to turn it off before it became WalkerFest Round Two in here.

I saw a handful of the bastards starting to trickle in again through the half-repaired gate, but Daryl was on it, firing bolts like a man possessed. Rick and Glenn were running to join the fight, I had to keep going and get this thing shut off.

As I neared the building, I saw something that made me skid to a stop - T-Dog was lying on the ground, a gaping bite wound on his leg and a walker pinning him to the floor. Before I could draw my gun, Carol had it. She fired a single shot directly into the side of the walkers head.

That housewife was becoming one hell of a badass.

"Get him to Hershel!" I told her as I started to run again. That leg needed to come off or T-Dog would die. I wanted to stay and help, but I knew that more of us would be dead if this siren didn't stop shrieking.

I finally made it to the tunnels beneath the prison, locating the generator and readying to kick the absolute shit out of it, when I noticed a power cord.

"Oh yeah." I laughed out loud to myself. I hadn't thought about unplugging it. I was just going straight for violence.

I steadied my breath for a second, then started to make my way back outside seeing with the walker-bashing. An agonising scream ripped through the air.

Who was down here and what was happening?

I followed the worrying sound and found myself at the door to a boiler room. I inched it open, peering inside.

I could see Lori lying on the floor, her face pale and twisted in agony. Maggie knelt beside her, her hands trembling as she tried to help. Carl stood in the corner, his face pale but determined.

"She's in labor," Maggie told me as she noticed me entering, her voice tight with panic. "But there's... there's blood."

Too much blood.

I dropped to my knees beside Lori, my hands hovering uselessly as I tried to think of something - anything - that would help.

"What do we do?" I asked, my voice shaking.

Maggie looked at me, her eyes wide and desperate. "We have to get the baby out."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I knew what she meant, even if she didn't say it. Lori wasn't going to make it.

Time seemed to blur after that. I held Lori's hand, whispering words of encouragement that felt hollow even as I said them. She was going to die and she knew it - we all did.

"It's okay. "I said, my voice breaking. "You're going to meet your baby. Just hold on."

But deep down, I knew she wouldn't.

She screamed again and I couldn't stop the tears from falling as I saw Maggie slicing through her abdomen with her knife. She was cautious, precise, but it must have been torturous for Lori to feel, for Carl to watch, for Maggie to have to do. I stroked Lori's hair as the light in her eyes got dimmer, until she stopped screaming... stopped living.

When Maggie finally got the baby out, its cries filled the room - a tiny, fragile sound that somehow felt louder than the generator, louder than the walkers, louder than the world ending outside.

We were all crying now. Carl stepped forward, his face streaked with tears. He knelt beside his mother, his small hand clutching hers.

"Goodbye, Mom." he whispered, as he pulled out the small pistol Rick had given him. There was no time to think, to stop him. Lori was gone, it needed doing so she didn't reanimate - but it shouldn't have been Carl to do the honors - yet it was. A shot rang out, and my heart broke again as what was left of the young boy's childhood was shattered.

Once we'd managed to pull ourselves back together somewhat, Maggie explained that they'd run from the walkers entering the yard, and in the chaos had ended up in the tunnels. Maggie never ran from a fight, but getting Carl, Lori and her unborn baby to safety had taken precedence on this occasion.

"She's a girl." Maggie spoke gently, as she gazed wistfully at the newborn lying in Carl's arms. We stayed sitting in that room for a long time with Lori's lifeless body. The distant gunfire above had settled and we knew the walkers outside had been dealt with, so we didn't move. We were all procrastinating the inevitable though, and we knew it. This was going to destroy Rick.

I wanted to make sure Carl didn't have to be the one to tell his dad. That poor boy had been through enough - he didn't need to be the one who blew apart his world. I'd do it. I'd deliver the news, offer comfort, and then return to collect Lori's body. She needed a proper burial. I rose to my feet, Maggie and Carl mimicking my actions, and led them out of the tunnels, though the door and into the yard.

Everybody seemed to be out here now, save for Carol and T-Dog. We did this after a big catastrophe - gathered in one place altogether - it was the simplest way to check who was still with us.

"Did they get to you?" I asked Hershel, hopefully, as I exited the door from the cellblock and straight away met the farmer. From Carol and T-Dog's absence from the circle, he knew already who I was referring to.

He bowed his head. "They didn't make it." He replied sympathetically.

I'd never felt more dejected than in that moment. Within one day we'd lost three of our small family. I steeled myself to deliver the news of Lori. Carl huddled out of sight, just inside of the closed door, holding his newborn sister tight.

It didn't take long for people to notice the bloodstains covering mine and Maggie's clothes, our bloodshot eyes or our tear-streaked faces. Silence fell amongst the group as eyes met us. Mine caught Rick's, and in that moment, I knew he knew who's blood coated us, without having to ask.

"Where...Where is...Where is she?" he stuttered out, face breaking. He wanted to go to her, to her body.

"No, Rick, no." I begged him, a tear falling from my eye as he moved toward the building. 'Please don't go down there." Not only did I not want him to see his wife's mauled body, we couldn't be certain no walkers had slipped down to the tunnels during the rampage. The cellblock was clear - I'd checked before leaving Carl and the baby inside - but I didn't fancy Rick's chances if he ran into one, not in his state.

The door to the cellblock opened, Carl no longer able to hold back. The infants cries filled the air instantly, as her big brother emerged cradling her, also covered in blood.

Rick wailed now, "No! No! No! No!" his cries pierced the air, meshing with the newborn's own in a heart-breaking harmony. I sobbed now too, tears were falling from most of the group. I locked eyes with Daryl, who looked like he was welling up also. He took a step toward me - even Daryl Dixon in a sulk couldn't bring himself to ignore the heaving cries emanating from my body.

He was all I wanted in that moment. I desperately needed those strong arms around me - to hold me together like they had that night in my cell. He hadn't made it any closer before I felt another, less sexy, pair of arms wrap around me and pull me into a bear hug.

It took me a few moments to realise what was happening... Oscar had ahold of me, offering me comfort. I appreciated it, but it wasn't who I wanted to be embraced by. I pulled back, eyes searching for my redneck relief, but he was gone. I looked around the circle of people and the area beyond it, but he was nowhere to be seen. My heart sank once more.

I could still hear Rick's desperate cries, merging with those belonging to the baby, but I felt like I didn't know where I was. An arm pulled mine and I followed it blindly. Oscar sat me down on a patch of dead grass and spoke to me. I don't know what he was saying. My ears were ringing and my entire body was shaking violently. The devastation of losing Lori, Carol, T-Dog all too much for my brain to process.

"Athena, you're in shock." The gigantic prisoner told me kindly.

That made sense.

My kind friend sat beside me on the former grass, in silence, while I returned to Earth.

"Thank you.' I told him gratefully, when I'd regained my ability to speak.

We chatted for a while as we sat, like we'd been done everyday this week so far. I told him what had happened in the boiler room, and he told me about the fight above.

In that delirious way that you do when you've been through something traumatic, we even ended up laughing at what an absolute shit-show of a day it had been. Nothing was funny, but my overwhelming emotions were busting out of me in whatever way they could, fighting for escape. I appreciated Oscar's company in that moment, I really did, but it wasn't his solace I craved. I wanted Daryl's. I needed it.

Before I knew what was happening, Oscar had stopped laughing and was leaning in to me, eyes fixed on my mouth.

"Dude!" I blurted. "What? No!"

"Sorry. I got it wrong." I heard him utter regretfully, but my mind was focused on the something else. Up on the roof - the one I took my watch shifts on - I saw Daryl glaring down at me, face unreadable but emanating anger all the same.

I saw red.

The guy wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't be around me, but he'd stand up there on that fucking roof watching me like I was some sort of lab animal. I'd had enough.

Adrenaline coarsed through my veins as I stormed into the building, through the cellblock and up the metal staircase. I was so furious at him. Everything that we'd all just been through, everyone we'd lost today, yet he was standing up there sulking like a petulant child.

I was done.

I burst through the door so forcefully, I'm surprised it didn't fly off his hinges.

"What is your fucking problem!?" I roared as I marched across the roof, not waiting to reach him before I let my fury loose.

He didn't answer, so I continued to yell, my voice seething with rage, "You've been in full on dick-mode for a week now, and I'm sick of it!"

I could see anger simmering in his eyes.

"You've changed your mind about accepting my past!? Fine! Whatever. I don't care anymore! But stop acting like a fucking wronged toddler and just say it!"

He looked as though he was about to rebut my statement, but refrained.

Did he really care so little that I wasn't even worth a response?

He started back toward the door, not meeting my eye, barely even acknowledging my presence at all.

I wasn't having it. I followed him.

'Don't you fucking walk away from me Dixon!" I continued, as we neared the side of the building that housed the door. I wasn't letting him leave this roof without giving me an explanation, telling me he hated me - whatever - I couldn't take the silence any more.

My angry desperation took over me, as I caught up to him and shoved him hard toward the wall. It barely moved his large frame, but he spun around to face me.

"Why don't ya go back down and cuddle with lover boy some more huh!?" he sneered at me, his face almost contorting with rage. "Ya' spend all yur time with him anyway."

"Shut up Daryl!" I bellowed! "At least he doesn't fucking ignore me. I can't exactly spend my time with you when you won't even be around me."

"The guy was just in prison..." He spat, his tone laced with venom.

Ouch. That hurt.

"Why are you so angry with me!?" I screamed, my voice cracking as I shoved him again, his back hitting the wall this time.

"I ain't angry with ya!" his voice boomed.

I glared at him, confused, but said nothing.

"I'm angry at myself!" he yelled even more loudly, startling me a little with the spike in his volume.

"Why!?" I asked him, my voice more exasperated than angry now.

He dropped his eyes to the ground, shuffling his feet uncomfortably.

"Because I'm a fuckin' pussy! He answered, voice breaking a little, "A damn coward."

We were both breathing heavily, the exertion of our blazing row exhausting both of us. Even with his head down, I saw Daryl's face change - his anger faded and now he looked upset, regretful.

"Daryl..."

"I didn't mean... The prison thing... That wasn't at you. I didn't mean it like that." He explained in not much louder than a whisper.

"Daryl." I repeated, my voice betraying my exhaustion from the day, from this conversation. "You're the bravest man I know. How can you call yourself a cowar-"

Everything moved in slow motion.

Before I knew what was happening, his lips crashed against mine forcefully.

The instant our mouths met, the world fell away.

There was no soft, tentative beginning; this wasn't a kiss born of delicacy or caution. It was a storm, wild and unrestrained. His mouth moved against mine with a hunger that stole the air from my lungs. I responded instinctively, my hands finding his shoulders, his neck, pulling him closer.

Our tongues collided chaotically. He tasted of earth and smoke, of something untamed and deeply human. His lips were rough but warm, moving with a desperate sort of intensity that made my head spin. His hand slid to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair, holding me in place like he was afraid I might disappear if he let go. The other hand gripped my waist, his fingers digging in just enough to leave me breathless.

It was messy, frantic, un-fucking-believable.

Every inch of me came alive under his touch, my body responding to him in ways I didn't know it could. His breath was warm against my skin, ragged and uneven, mirroring the frantic beat of my own heart. I could feel everything he was pouring into that kiss-the fear, the longing, the quiet ache of someone who had spent too long pushing everyone away.

He pulled away for just a moment, our need for air separating us. Unsure eyes met mine, dark and unguarded, and I could see everything he couldn't put into words written there. They were asking for permission, for reassurance that I wanted this, and I'd never been so certain of anything in my life.

Within seconds, his lips were on mine again, even harder this time, like the dam had finally broken and there was no holding back. His hand slipped down to the small of my back, pulling me flush against him, and I let myself get lost in him, in this, in us.

I felt myself spinning and then the thud of my back colliding with concrete, but he didn't break the kiss. Our pace never slowed - we were like people starved - but we'd found a rhythm, our tongues dancing together now. He pushed his body closer and ground into me, trapping me against the wall. I was a more-than-willing victim.

His hands were everywhere, like he couldn't decide where to settle them, but I didn't care - as long as he kept touching me.

I needed him to never stop touching me.

Time seemed to stretch, each second both endless and fleeting. We could have been there for an hour or a second - I wouldn't have known the difference.

I could feel his heart hammering against my own chest as he pressed me impossibly further into the wall, his hands settling firmly on my waist and pulling our hips together more forcefully than they already were.

His mouth on mine felt like all I'd ever need to sustain me. The feeling of his lips, his tongue, his chest - all of it - completely taking away any rational thought or ability to function. Every walker in the state could be on this roof and I wouldn't notice - or care.

"Woah!" I heard someone gasp, as I felt the mouth I so badly needed to stay pressed against mine pull away. Glenn, who looked shell-shocked, was leaning out of the now half open door. Daryl had sprung at least a metre away from me, and the distance felt excruciating. His eyes were firmly planted on the floor as he turned and stalked toward the door, pushing past a still flabbergasted Glenn without a word.

He'd shut down. I'd lost him.

"I just came to check you hadn't murdered each other..." Glenn offered, ears pink and eyes wide, as I struggled to catch my breath.

I waved him off, silently telling the little mood-killer to get off my roof before he was the one being murdered for interrupting the most intense make-out session of my life.

I was still clutching my chest, fighting to slow my breathing when I heard the rev of a familiar engine. I watched as a flustered Beth pulled the gate open as if she'd been told her life depended on it, and I saw the bike of the man that had just passionately shattered my whole being with his kiss, blazing at top speed down the road, and out of sight.

Is it hot in here? 🔥🥵

I'd love to know what you think about our pair's kiss!

Edit: Just a heads up I now have 3 other Daryl stories on Wattpad you might enjoy:

- Solace ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)- Indigo ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)- We Ain't Ashes ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)