Hunger

Days on the road blurred together, hunger and thirst pressing in on us like a vice. Every meal was a struggle - what little we scavenged was rationed, barely enough to keep our strength.

Daryl, ever resourceful, tried to get me to eat a worm, popping one into his mouth without hesitation.

I gagged, recoiling as he chewed.

"C'mon, Ath," he teased with a smirk. "Protein."

I shoved his shoulder, scrunching my nose. "I'd rather starve."

Despite the exhaustion, the ache in our bones, the uncertainty of where we'd end up, there was a quiet joy between the two of us. We were still wrapped in the glow of our hidden matrimony, the warmth of knowing we were each other's no matter what.

One evening, when we were only a couple of days into our time on the road, as we rested in the cover of a crumbling tyre yard, Carol approached us. She glanced around before pressing a small, cloth-wrapped bundle into my hands.

"A wedding gift," she murmured, a smile tugging at her lips.

Daryl and I exchanged a look before I peeled back the fabric. Inside was a fancy-looking compass, the silver chipped in places.

"Found it a while back." Carol said softly. "It's to remind you that you'll always find your way back to each other - no matter where the road takes you."

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice breaking as I pulled her into a hug.

Carol nodded, brushing off the sentiment as if it wasn't a big deal, but I caught the softness in her eyes as she walked away.

Carol, Carl, Beth, Gabriel, and Hershel were still the only ones who knew about our nuptials.

We weren't intentionally keeping it a secret from the others - we just hadn't mentioned it out of respect for Sasha and Noah... They were still in early stages of grieving Tyreese, and it seemed insensitive for us to make a big, happy announcement.

The reveal did happen though - around the fire one night.

I was sitting beside Daryl, our hands loosely intertwined, when Maggie's gaze dropped to my left hand. Her brows furrowed, and then her eyes widened.

"Wait a damn minute," she blurted, pointing at my hand. "Are you two married?"

Silence fell. Every head turned. Daryl stiffened beside me.

Rick looked between us, realization dawning. "Is that-?"

I smiled, squeezing Daryl's fingers before lifting my hand, the ring catching the firelight. "Yeah," I admitted. "We are."

For a second, no one spoke. Then, suddenly, the tension snapped - cheers, laughter, congratulations echoing in the night. Maggie threw her arms around me, Tara beamed, Glenn clapped Daryl on the back. Even Sasha and Noah looked genuinely pleased for us.

Merle's eyes dropped to Daryl's hand, and his smirk turned into a scowl. "Son of a bitch," he muttered. "You stole my goddamn rings?"

"Didn't steal 'em. Found 'em." Daryl told him plainly, not giving away Carol's part in the accidental acquisition.

Merle narrowed his eyes for a moment, then let out a sharp bark of laughter, shaking his head.

"Well, hell, ain't like old Merle's headin' down the aisle anytime soon." He turned to me, something softer in his gaze now. "Welcome to the family, Sis."

The word sent warmth spreading through my chest.

Family.

Daryl gave me a small, lopsided grin. "Guess the cat's outta the bag."

I smiled back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Guess so."

~

Nights were the worst.

Not because of the cold, or the hunger gnawing at my stomach, or the constant fear that we'd be ambushed while we slept - those things I could handle. What made it unbearable was lying next to Daryl - right beside each other, but unable to do the things we wanted to each other.

We'd been married for a week, but it had been much longer since we'd been intimate - before we went in search of Merle and Beth, even.

The group was always around now, packed tight in whatever shelter we could find, constantly on edge. There was never enough space, never enough quiet.

I cursed us both for not consummating our union before we lost the church.

I wanted him. More than just holding his hand in the dark, more than the stolen kisses. I wanted him the way a wife should have her husband, wanted to feel his hands on me, his breath against my skin. I craved him with a desperation that burned hotter with every passing night.

And I knew he felt the same.

It was in the way his fingers flexed against my hip when we lay side by side, like he was holding himself back. In the way his jaw clenched when I pressed a lingering kiss to his neck before we parted ways on watch duty. The way his breathing changed whenever I curled against him in the night, his body tense with restraint.

I hated it. Hated how the world kept us apart even now. We'd made this promise to each other, spoken our devotion, committed ourselves in such a binding way. And yet, it didn't feel complete.

Every night, I fell asleep aching for him. Every morning, I woke up still wanting.

~

We'd decided to continue heading toward D.C.

Eugene's mission didn't exist, but we didn't have a better plan. We were moving on foot now, having used up the last fuel we could find.

Every step we took started to feel heavier than the last, the past day and a half stretching endlessly in my mind - a blur of exhaustion, thirst, and the aching weight of empty stomachs.

Rick had made it clear: conserve energy, don't engage unless absolutely necessary. We had no food, no water, and no strength to spare. If we were going to fight, it needed to be on our terms, in a place where we had the high ground.

Sasha wasn't listening.

She was ahead of us, her pace just slightly faster than the rest of the group. It had been that way since she lost Tyreese. Grief shadowed her every movement, a storm barely contained beneath the surface. She wasn't talking much. Wasn't sleeping much either. The moment she spotted the walkers shambling toward us, her fingers twitched around the handle of her knife.

"Sasha," Rick warned, his voice low and firm. "Don't."

She lunged anyway.

"Damn it," I muttered, picking up my pace as she rushed forward, blade flashing in the dying light.

Sasha fought like she wanted to die, like the only thing keeping her moving was the chance to destroy something - anything. Her strikes were reckless, powerful but wild, driven by something deeper than instinct. The first walker fell easily, a swift slash across its skull. The second, she didn't even let hit the ground before spinning toward the next.

More were coming. Too many. And she was burning through what little strength she had left.

"Sasha, back off!" Rick barked, already surging forward.

She wasn't stopping.

Michonne moved in to cover her, knife slicing cleanly through a walker's skull as she stepped beside her. "Sasha, that's enough!"

But Sasha wasn't hearing her. She swung wildly, eyes dark with fury. Her blade sliced through the air and cut straight across Michonne's arm.

"Shit!" I ran toward them, heart hammering.

Michonne stumbled back, hand clutching her arm as blood seeped between her fingers. The wound wasn't deep - thank God - but it was there, and for one terrible second, Sasha just stood frozen, staring. Her breath came fast, her hands shaking.

Rick didn't hesitate. He grabbed Sasha's wrist, wrenching her back as he stepped between her and Michonne. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"I-" Sasha stammered, her eyes darting from the blood to Michonne's face, then back to her own hands. She looked horrified. "I didn't mean-"

"We're done here," Rick snapped. "We keep moving."

Michonne nodded, already pulling a cloth from her belt to wrap around the wound. "I'm fine," she muttered, but I could hear the anger underneath. The disappointment.

Sasha's chest heaved. I could see the grief breaking through now, raw and exposed. She turned away from us, her body tense, like she was trying to hold it all in.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "We're all just tired and grumpy, try to forget about it. It was an accident."

She didn't respond. Didn't even look at me. Just turned and kept walking, her shoulders trembling with every step.

As we moved forward, I matched her pace, staying by her side. "I know what you're feeling," I said gently. "I lost my sister, before all of this."

Sasha's steps faltered slightly, and she finally looked at me. "Before?"

I nodded. "Yeah, not long before. I carried that pain for so long, letting it eat me up. But you can't let it control you, Sasha. You can't let it make you reckless. Tyreese wouldn't want that."

She let out a shuddering breath. "I don't know how to stop it.

"You have to grieve," I said. "But you also have to find a way to live with it without letting it destroy you. I still miss Selene every day, but it doesn't consume me in the way it did."

"It's the anger." She sighed. "I feel like I want to set the world on fire.

"I get that." I took a deep breath. "Selene was murdered. Shot by someone we knew."

"Shit. I'm sorry. You do understand the anger than."

"More than you know. I'm here if you want to talk."

Sasha didn't say anything more, but for the first time in a while, her shoulders relaxed just a little.

Hours passed, the hunger gnawing at us mercilessly, when we came across a pack of wild dogs. They were skinny but still full of muscle, their eyes gleaming with the same desperation we felt.

Most of us were thinking it, but it was Daryl who said it.

"We need to eat," he muttered, already pulling out his knife.

No one argued, and the smell of roasting meat filled the air soon after. I can't lie - nothing could disguise the fact that we were eating dog. The taste was awful, the texture worse, but it was the fact of what we'd been reduced to that was the most harrowing.

Despite how gross our meal was, for the first time in days, we felt something close to relief. At least we'd eaten. We were still dehydrated, but our stomachs were full.

As I sat by the fire, I caught Sasha watching me. She gave me a small nod. Not a thank you. Not yet. But something close.

~

On what felt like day 9735 of being on the road, we were desperately in need of water.

I thought it was a mirage when a first saw it, a stack of bottled water sitting there in the middle of the road.

There was a note attached.

'From a friend.'

Erm, what?

What should have been relief was marred by suspicion. People don't do things just to be nice anymore. We had no idea where this water had come from, if it was even safe to drink.

I also couldn't shake the suspicion that it had been left there specifically for us, which, if true, meant we were being watched.

Eugene was about to take a swig from one of the bottles, volunteering himself as guinea pig to try to redeem himself after his lie, when Abraham knocked it out of his hand.

If anything, at least the redhead didn't seem to want the fake scientist dead anymore.

I walked over to Daryl and Rick, who were still discussing our discovery.

"Do you think we're being watched?" I asked them. "If that was left for us, somebody's following us."

Rick rubbed his neck. "Could be."

"We need to get off the road." Daryl told us both, reaching for my hand. "A real shelter, no campin' out if somone's got eyes on us."

"You're right." Rick agreed. "It's a detour, but I did see signs for a town near here. Could be worth the extra walking if it means we're safer for the night. It'll be dark soon. We can figure out our next move tomorrow."

I didn't fancy being the one to tell the dehydrated group that we were now going on a side quest.

Luckily, a miracle happened just as Rick was about to break the news.

Rain.

Not just a drizzle - heavy, lashing rain.

It was incredible.

Every single person started cheering.

We all stood, mouths open, enjoying the sensation of the droplets hitting our tongues and quenching our immense thirst for a few moments, before scrambling to find any container we could to collect water.

Once I'd set my canteen on the ground, Daryl grabbed me from behind, planting kisses on my neck in celebration. The mood of the whole group had skyrocketed, and he was no exception.

We stood there, his arms around my waist and my head resting back on his shoulder - our eyes to the sky - as we watched the rain pour down.

It didn't take us long to find the town Rick had seen signs for. We ran into our fair share of walkers as we arrived, but thanks to our full stomachs and the rainwater we were able to collect, we had the energy to dispatch them without too much effort.

We chose to shelter in what was once a bookstore. It was large enough for all of us to fit comfortably, and then some. We tucked ourselves away between shelves and overturned tables, exhaustion weighing heavy on all of us. After days of walking, hunger gnawing at our ribs and sleeping out in the open with one eye always on the tree line, this place felt like a sanctuary - a temporary reprieve from the constant fight for survival.

Daryl and I huddled in a corner, waiting for the snores of the others to start. Despite our tiredness, we had no intention of sleeping.

His hand found mine in the dim light once the group had fallen into slumber, his grip firm, warm. No words were spoken as he pulled me upright and tugged me deeper into the store, past broken bookshelves and abandoned reading nooks.

My pulse quickened, anticipation building beneath my skin.

He pushed open the door to what had once been a storage room, now dark and empty except for a dust-covered couch and a pile of forgotten books in the corner. The door clicked shut behind us.

Then he was on me.

His hands grasped my face as his lips crashed into mine, desperate, needy. I gasped against his mouth, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. His body pressed against mine, solid and warm, and a shudder ran through me as weeks of longing, of frustration, melted into this moment.

"Missed ya," he rasped against my lips, his breath hot, ragged.

My hands roamed, mapping out every hard plane of his body, reaffirming that he was real, that this was real. "I've missed you," I murmured, voice shuddering with want. "I can't believe we're alone."

His forehead pressed to mine, his hands tightening on my waist. "Finally."

He kissed me again, slower, as if savoring every second, every movement. His lips trailed down my neck, sending shivers down my spine as I tilted my head, giving him more. My legs hit the couch, and he guided me onto it with ease, his knees between my legs as his hands skimmed beneath my shirt, rough palms meeting my fevered skin.

We had our clothes off in record time.

Zero to naked in fifteen seconds or less.

I trembled under his touch, my breath catching as his lips followed the path his hands had made, pressing lingering kisses against my collarbone, my shoulder, down the slope of my stomach. Every touch was a promise, every sigh an unspoken vow.

"I love you," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the sound of our breaths mingling in the quiet room.

Daryl's hands stilled for a moment, his eyes dark and intense as they met mine. "Say it again."

I cupped his face, thumbs tracing the angles of his jaw. "I love you."

He let out a shaky breath, something like relief flashing across his features before he kissed me again, deeper this time, pouring every ounce of his devotion into it.

"I love ya." He told me as he pulled back to look at me. "I still can't believe yur my wife."

"I still can't believe you're my husband." I replied, my hands reaching down to his rock hard manhood.

He groaned at my touch.

I couldn't wait any longer. I lifted my hips, needing to feel him inside me.

He stopped himself.

"Fuck." He laughed breathily as he reached back down to the floor for his pants.

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed as I spotted the condom he'd pulled out. "I didn't even think about it."

"I wasn't, neither." He confessed, unrolling it over himself. "I was only thinkin' about one thing." His eyes glimmered naughtily.

I pulled him back on top of me, guiding him inside as we both moaned in relief.

"Fuck, Ath. Ya feel so good."

"Mhmmh" I murmured in satisfied agreement as I adjusted to his size. "God, I've needed you."

I began rocking against him.

He took my direction, moving inside me in a way that released every bit of tension I'd been carrying. It was slow, but deep. My body still aching for more.

The gasps escaping me grew louder with each passing minute. I pushed my mouth against his shoulder in am attempt to muffle them. My desperation for him only growing stronger.

I hooked my legs around his waist, forcing him deeper still. He grabbed my thigh to steady himself, taking a few measured breaths to in an attempt to keep control.

"I can't." He breathed, "It feels too good."

"Let it happen." I encouraged him, pushing down onto him even further. "We've got all night to play catch up."

He slipped his hand down between us, grazing my sweet spot - how wet I was revealing just how much my body had been craving him. The instant he touched me, I started to release - the gentle strokes from his thumb edging me into bliss.

His eyes met mine as he rocked himself slowly - slower than before, eager to enjoy every second leading up to our relief. His thumb still moved over me, pushing me beyond the barrier. A brain-melting orgasm coursed through my body. Every stroke, every measured thrust, intensifying it further.

I lost autonomy over my mouth, moaning in ecstasy at a volume that was sure to wake the others. He covered it with his own mouth, silencing me as he kissed me, hard.

He inched himself back only as he neared his own release, his body tremoring as he stared deep into my eyes. He ground my name out slowly as he reached his peak, his body jerking in rapture, not once breaking our gaze.

He collapsed on top of me, his head nuzzling into my neck as we laid in silence, our laboured breathing the only sound as we enjoyed a state of post-orgasmic bliss.

"That was..." he trailed off minutes later, when we'd regained our ability to speak.

"...worth the wait?" I finished for him.

He huffed a laugh. "Fuck, yeah."

He lifted himself into a sitting position and pulled me into his lap, resting backwards, his arms around me.

"Ya reckon anyone heard us?" I asked, not really caring if they did.

"Ain't no-one runnin' in with a weapon."

"That's true." I chuckled. My brow furrowed. "The condom - weren't we out?"

"Glenn." He revealed. "Gave me their whole stash. Said they don't need 'em no more."

"So when we were escaping from the church, running for our lives - you prioritized condoms..? Not that I'm complaining."

"Nah." He grinned mischievously. "They were already in my bag. "

Thank God we'd both been able to grab our packs as we left, not everyone had been so lucky.

"I see. Well, you might need to go get your bag. You're in for a long night." I bit my lip. "We're gonna need more."

"Way ahead of ya." He revealed. "Ya think I brought ya in here with just one?"

We'd been waiting for this - not just for the physical closeness, but for the chance to finally be together without the weight of the world pressing in on us. For one night, we weren't survivors on the run. We weren't fighters clawing our way through a broken world. We were just us.

Husband and wife.

A/N: Thank you as always for your votes and comments. Every single one makes me smile! ❤️