Say Her Name

The sun had barely started its ascent when we were led back to the theater. Ezekiel stood before us, hands clasped behind his back.

“When I first arrived here, the Kingdom was nothing,” he said. “A ruin. We built it. We fought for it. And we lost many good people in that fight.” His voice was steady, but there was sorrow beneath it.

“I will not risk my people in another war,” he had continued. “Not when we have peace.”

Rick’s shoulders had squared, his jaw ticking. “It won’t last. Negan will take everything from you. The moment you stop being useful, he’ll come for you.”

Ezekiel had looked unmoved. “Perhaps. But for now, the Kingdom stands.”

The tension in the room had been suffocating. It had felt like all our hope was slipping through our fingers.

Then Ezekiel had turned his eyes to Daryl and I.

“You two, however, cannot return to Alexandria. If the Saviors find you there, your people will suffer. Stay here. Within our walls, you will be safe.”

Rick absentmindedly nodded in agreement.

Daryl’s lips pressed into a hard line. His eyes met Rick’s, and I could see the storm brewing behind them.

I stayed silent, watching the unspoken argument between them. I wanted to tell Daryl that staying was the smart choice – that maybe he could get through to Ezekiel, maybe turn the tide in our favor. But I knew Daryl. And I knew how much he had hated being told what to do.

Ultimately, after a private conversation, Daryl and I decided to stay – just for now.

“I have an appointment.” Ezekiel proclaimed. “I bid you farewell. Please enjoy the gardens, have lunch before you go.”

A few hours later, the Kingdom’s gates creaked open as we watched Rick and the others disappear down the road, their figures shrinking against the tree-lined path. I hated this. Hated staying behind while they went back to Alexandria without us. But Ezekiel was right – Negan would come looking for us. And if he found us, it wouldn’t just be our lives on the line. It would be the whole damn community.

Daryl stood stiff beside me, his hands curled into fists at his sides, his whole body radiating frustration. I felt it too, a tight knot twisting in my chest. We had fought so hard to get back to each other, and now we were stuck here, trapped behind walls that weren’t ours, waiting for a decision that might never come.

We walked a little, exploring more of the Kingdom, just in time to see Ezekiel and a group of his men return through the gates. Morgan was among them, walking beside the king, his expression as unreadable as ever. Daryl’s stance shifted, his frustration sharpening into something else – something colder. Without a word, he started toward Morgan, and I followed.

Morgan barely had a chance to acknowledge us before Daryl lost his temper.

“Look, whatever it is yur holdin’ on to,” Daryl ground out, his voice low and tense. “It’s already gone, man. Wake the hell up.”

Morgan’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t lash out, didn’t argue. He just stared at Daryl, steady and unshaken. “And what is it you think I’m holding on to?”

Daryl huffed, shaking his head. “That peace bullshit. Ain’t no peace with the Saviors. Ya know that.”

Morgan exhaled through his nose, glancing away for the briefest moment before his eyes flicked to mine. I said nothing, just folded my arms, waiting.

“You think I don’t know what they are?” Morgan finally said. “You think I don’t know what they did?”

Daryl’s fingers twitched, barely restrained. “Then why the hell ya still sittin’ on yur hands?”

Morgan’s expression darkened. “Because I know what comes next.” He looked down briefly, then back up, his voice quieter but firmer. “Carol would want to kill them if she knew about Hershel and Abraham.”

Hershel’s name alone made my chest ache. Daryl’s whole body went rigid. I’d told him what Maggie and Beth had said – that they didn’t blame him – but it didn’t matter. He blamed himself.

Morgan wasn’t finished. “That’s why she left.” He added.

Daryl’s lips parted slightly, a barely-there reaction, but I caught it. We hadn’t known that part. Morgan wasn’t just saying Carol wouldn’t want to fight – he was saying she couldn’t. That it would destroy her.

I’d noticed her acting strangely at Alexandria. Toting Rosary beads, chain-smoking, seemingly distant. She’d even mentioned to me how many people she killed. I felt guilty – I hadn’t realized how much she was struggling.

I could feel Daryl’s anger shifting. It was still there, simmering under his skin, but now it had something else mixed in.

Morgan walked away before Daryl could respond, and we let him go. There was nothing left to say.

Later, we found Richard in the archery area, his stance rigid as he loosed an arrow from a longbow. The shot went wide, hitting the edge of the target. He exhaled sharply, lowering the bow in frustration.

Daryl stepped forward, picking up a familiar shape from the table beside him – a crossbow. Not his, Dwight had his, again, but close enough. He tested the weight of it, rolling his shoulders as he slotted a bolt into place.

Something fluttered in my chest as I watched him holding it. It reminded me of how things used to be.

Richard glanced at him. “I hear you’re a bowman.”

Daryl lifted the crossbow in response. His shot struck dead center.

Richard huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Good. We need people who know how to fight.”

Daryl eyed him. “That what yur doin’ out here? Gettin’ ready to fight?”

Richard nodded once, lowering his bow. “You and I - we want the same thing. The Saviors need to die.”

Daryl didn’t react. He just stared at Richard, waiting.

After a moment, Richard motioned for us to follow. “Come with me. I wanna show you something.”

~

Richard’s hidden trailer was deep in the woods, tucked away like some kind of doomsday bunker. Inside, there were weapons, supplies, everything a man needed for a last stand.

Or an attack.

Richard gathered a few items, including a Molotov cocktail, before turning to face us. “Ezekiel won’t fight. Not yet. But we can’t sit back and wait for him to change his mind.”

I crossed my arms. “So what’s your plan?”

Richard glanced between us, his expression grim. “We hit them first. Hard.”

Daryl and I looked to each other.

“How?” Daryl asked.

“An ambush on one of their trucks, for now.”

It sounded simple enough, but it felt like he wasn’t telling us something.

“We need a minute.” I told Richard, pushing open the door. Daryl followed me outside, his hands in his pockets.

“What ya thinkin’?” He asked.

“I’m thinking that I know how much you need something to fight. I do, too.”

“But?”

“But it seems too easy. What isn’t he telling us?”

Daryl rubbed the back of his neck. “Let’s find out.”

Richard took us to a highway, one he must know the Saviours use often. I had my gun from Merle, and Daryl once again held a crossbow. I felt ready – I needed to do something about the Saviors – were both did – yet my stomach still niggled. We positioned ourselves behind a large, abandoned truck.

“We ambush them, take them out. “Richard started. “When the rest come looking, we lead them to a weapons cache I planted near a lone woman’s cottage.”

Something about the way he said it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “What the fuck?”

Daryl caught it too. He frowned, shifting slightly. “What woman?”

Richard ignored us, continuing on about his plan.

Daryl took a step forward. “What woman?”

Richard exhaled through his nose. “Someone Ezekiel cares about. Someone whose death would push him over the edge.”

The air in my lungs turned ice cold. He was going to sacrifice a woman living alone? Send the Saviors to her door? Nope. Not happening.

“I’m out.” I snapped. I knew Daryl was too, but he wasn’t letting it go.

Daryl went still, his voice dangerously low. “What’s her name?”

“Just a wom-” Richard started to dismiss.

“Say her damn name!” Daryl roared.

Richard finally met his eyes. “Carol.”

What the fuck!?

The sound of a truck carried through the air. They were coming. Richard prepared for the ambush.

Everything happened fast.

One second, Daryl was standing beside me. The next, he had Richard by the collar, shoving him hard against the side of the cargo trailer.

Richard grunted, his hands gripping Daryl’s wrists, but he didn’t fight back. “It has to happen!” he insisted. “She’s the only thing that could-”

Daryl slammed him back again, his voice a rough snarl. “You son of a bitch.” Before throwing him to the floor, the two fighting.

I didn’t do anything. I didn’t need to. Plus, my mind was still in What-the-fuckville.

Once the truck had passed, and Daryl dragged Richard to his feet, I stepped closer, hands curled into fists. “You think her life is worth trading for this? For a damn war?”

“If we don’t act, more people will die. Maybe everyone.”

Daryl shoved him back one last time before letting go, his breathing heavy. Richard straightened, rubbing his throat.

“Ya touch Carol, ya even think about goin’ near her...” Daryl growled “She gets hurt, she dies, she catches a fever, she gets taken out by a walker, she gets hit by lightning – anything, anything happens to her – I’ll kill ya.”

I know it’s not the right moment for it – but fuck, my husband is hot.

Richard’s eyes still burned with determination. “I’d gladly give my life for the Kingdom.”

Daryl’s expression hardened. “Then why don’t ya?”

The words cut through the air like a blade, sharp and final.

Richard stared at him, his hands tightening at his sides. He didn’t answer.

Daryl didn’t wait for one.

Without another word, he motioned for me to follow, then turned and stalked away, fists clenched.

I took one last look at Richard, my chest burning with fury.

We weren’t done with him. Not by a long shot.

But first, we had to find Carol.

~

The Kingdom’s outskirts weren’t far, but it felt like we’d been walking for hours, the trees and overgrown grass making everything look the same. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth and the tension between us. Daryl didn’t say much, and I didn’t push him for conversation.

We searched the area for Carol’s cottage. I didn’t want to ask Daryl what was going through his mind, but I could see the way he clenched his fists every time he looked around, the way his jaw tightened as though the whole world was pressing in on him.

Evemtually, we found it. A small, modest cottage hidden away behind a few trees. Smoke billowed from the chimney, and the place seemed untouched by the chaos outside.

Now we were here. Daryl looked hesitant.

“You want to go in alone?” I asked quietly, my voice betraying the uncertainty I felt.

He shook his head almost immediately. “Nah. Jus’… don’t want her knowin’ ‘bout...” He trailed off.

I nodded, not bothering to argue. I knew why he didn’t want his best friend to know. It was the same reason he wouldn’t let me in. It was too heavy, too hard for him to talk about.

He knocked.

It only took a moment before the door creaked open, and there she was – Carol.

Her eyes widened when she saw Daryl and I.

None of us spoke for a moment before Daryl asked, quietly with his voice full of emotion. “Why’d ya go?”

She didn’t answer, but before I knew it, she was pulling him into a tight hug. A part of me flinched as I watched, even though I knew I shouldn’t.

Daryl stiffened, his arms rigid at his sides, but she wasn’t letting go. Eventually he relaxed into her. It didn’t last long, but it was enough. She had that effect on him.

I stepped forward, trying to muster a smile.

She looked at me, taking in the quiet tension, then pulled me into an embrace. I felt the warmth of her body, the strength in her arms. It should have been comforting, but I couldn’t help the ache that lingered in my chest.

Carol’s gaze shifted between the two of us, her surprise morphing into a small smile. “I... How?”

“Stumbled on ya. Saw ya out here.” Daryl lied.

Carol gave him a knowing look but didn’t press him. She stepped back, gesturing for us to come inside.

The cabin was small, cozy, with a fire crackling in the hearth. It smelled like freshly baked bread and something earthy, like rosemary.

Daryl and I settled around the table, while Carol replaced logs on the fire, sitting herself in front of it.

She was quiet for a moment, as if weighing something. Then she looked at us, her expression soft. “I left Alexandria because I couldn’t do it anymore,” she said, her voice steady but laced with something I couldn’t quite name. “If I stayed there… if the Saviors killed any of you, I’d have gone after them. And I can’t do that again.”

I understood. We all understood. The weight of loss had shaped us all in ways I wasn’t sure would ever heal. But running away wasn’t the answer.

Daryl didn’t respond at first. He looked down, his eyes dark, but when he spoke, his voice was quiet. “I get it.”

Carol teared up, her eyes flickering between us. “Is everyone okay?”

I felt the sudden weight of her question, and I knew Daryl did too. The truth – about Hershel, about Abraham – could send her down a path we couldn’t follow.

Daryl hesitated. “Yeah.” He lied eventually. “Everyone’s fine. We’re all okay.”

Carol smiled. My stomach tightened into an even bigger knot.

We ate together, the quiet between us only broken by the sounds of utensils clinking on plates, the crackling of the fire.

When it was time to leave, and I could feel the heaviness of everything hanging in the air. Carol walked us to the door, and Daryl pulled her into another hug.

I had to look away. It wasn’t jealousy, at least not in the ‘my husband is hugging another woman’ way – we both loved Carol – I loved their bond. It was something else – something that twisted in my gut. Daryl and Carol had a bond, and right now it seemed like one that ran deeper than anything I could understand. I couldn’t fault it, but it hurt.

After they pulled away, I stepped forward to give Carol a hug of my own. She held me tightly, like she had with Daryl, and I let myself lean into her for a moment longer than I probably should have.

“Take care of yourselves,” Carol whispered, and I could hear the sincerity in her voice.

The walk back to the Kingdom felt longer than the one to Carol’s cottage, though it was a lot shorter. The quiet was thick between Daryl and me, the kind of silence that had grown familiar, but now, it felt like it carried an invisible weight – one that I couldn’t ignore.

Daryl’s gait was steady, but there was something off in the way he carried himself, like he was lost in the thoughts he wasn’t ready to share.

I tried to keep my focus on the path ahead of us, but it was hard to ignore the tightness in my chest. Something had shifted, and I couldn’t figure out why.

It wasn’t just Carol. It was more than that.

I could feel Daryl glancing at me from time to time, like he knew something was wrong but didn’t want to press.

“Ya okay?” His voice was low, a little strained.

I didn’t answer right away. How could I? How could I tell him the truth? That it hurt to see him hug Carol so easily, while he could barely even touch me? Not like that. Not since the Sanctuary.

“Just tired.” I mumbled.

He didn’t push.

~

Later that night, back at the Kingdom, Daryl had gone to get some air, and I was starting to feel anxious. I didn’t think he’d leave The Kingdom – but I was still concerned about him.

I searched the gardens, the courtyard and a couple of buildings, before I heard his voice coming from the room they kept Shiva – the goddamn Tiger.

He wasn’t alone. I could hear Morgan too. Daryl’s tone was low and steady, Morgan’s even quieter but firm.

I slowed my pace, stepping carefully toward the sounds. I peered around the door frame, out of their line of sight, watching.

Daryl was sitting by Shiva’s cage, the tiger’s amber eyes watching him as he spoke to Morgan, his tone gruff but determined.

“I know ‘bout Carol,” Daryl said.

Morgan didn’t respond, and I felt my stomach twist. I could tell Daryl was trying to keep his emotions in check.

Daryl stood up, pacing in front of Shiva’s cage, his boots heavy against the floor. “She’s hidin'. Can’t stay in the shadows forever.” He stopped, his fists clenched at his sides. “Ya gotta talk to Ezekiel. We need ‘im. We need everyone if we’re gonna stand a chance against the Saviors.”

Morgan didn’t look up, his face serious as he shook his head. “I told you before, Daryl. Ezekiel won’t join. He’s not ready for a fight.”

Daryl’s frustration was palpable. His voice rose, raw and full of conviction. “We’re just sitting here like nothin’s happenin’. Ya can’t expect the Saviors to just leave us alone.”

There was a long pause, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

Morgan finally looked up, his gaze hard, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “You can’t force someone into something they’re not ready for, either.”

Daryl’s lips tightened into a thin line, and for a moment, it felt like he was about to explode. Instead, he just let out a heavy breath. "Gon' speak to Ath about goin’ back to Hilltop.” He looked directly into Morgan’s eyes. “Gettin’ ready.”

I froze in the doorway, the urge to step forward overwhelming, but I couldn’t move. Something about the way Daryl spoke – so certain, so resigned – made my heart race. It was as if he had already made up his mind, like he was preparing for the fight we knew we weren’t ready for.

Morgan looked startled by my presence as he turned to leave, but he didn’t say anything. Just slipped past me. Daryl had sat back on the floor beside Shiva’s cage. He hadn’t noticed me.

The low hum of the Kingdom’s quiet was all around us as I finally stepped into the room, but Daryl was lost in his own thoughts. His eyes fixed on the tiger.

“Hilltop?” I asked quietly as I approached, trying not to startle him.

He jumped anyway, his body tightening.

He rubbed his eyes. “If ya agree... Was gon’ talk to ya first.”

“We’re not ready.”

“S’why we need to get ready.”

I thought about it for a moment. “You’re right.”

“Ya might be safer here.” He offered half-heartedly, and I could sense the conflict in his phrase. He wanted me to be here, probably less likely to be found by Negan, but he also didn’t want to leave without me. On top of both of those things, he needed to try to fight the Saviors. So did I.

“I go where you go.” I reminded him.

He looked at me. “Ya okay?”

“Yup.”

He surveyed me closer. He knew I was being distant, but he didn’t push, not yet. “M’kay.”

“Gonna get some sleep.” I told him, backing out of the room and leaving him to hang out with Shiva.

“Ath...” He called quietly as I was just out of sight.

I stopped. But I didn’t turn back straight away. I stood just outside, fingers curled into my palms, my heart a heavy, aching thing in my chest. I didn’t want to have this conversation, but he knew I was being off. I just didn't want to tell him why.

I was doing everything I could - giving him space, letting him move at his own pace, not pushing when he stiffened at my touch. I understood. I did. But understanding didn’t make it hurt any less.

This wasn’t about Carol. It wouldn’t have mattered if it was goddamn Eugene.

It was about him. About the way he let someone in, let their arms wrap around him while I could barely get close.

It wasn’t jealousy - it wasn’t that simple. I wanted him to have that comfort. I wanted him to have someone he felt safe with. But I couldn’t shake the weight in my chest, the confusion, the quiet sting of being held at arm’s length.

I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t bitter. I just missed him.

I missed the way he used to reach for me, the way his touch had always been a wordless reassurance. I missed how he used to lean into me, how he let me carry his weight when the world was too heavy.

I missed us.

But I wasn’t naive. I knew what they’d done to him. I knew the weight he was carrying, the cracks they’d left behind. I didn’t blame him for needing time. I would wait for him, no matter how long it took... I just didn’t know what to do with the way it felt.

I took a deep breath and walked back toward him.

The tiger’s room smelled of hay and old wood as I re-entered, the air thick and heavy. He sat with his back to me, head bowed, one hand stroking Shiva’s giant head. His whole body was tense, as usual, like a wire pulled too tight.

I didn’t say anything, but he’d heard me come back in.

He let out a slow breath, shifting to face me. “Ya really okay?”

I gave a small nod.

He waited, like he was expecting me to say more. When I didn’t, he stood up. “Ath...” He dropped his gaze to his feet. “Ya ain’t.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m fine.”

His brows furrowed, but his voice remained soft. “Bullshit.”

I didn’t know what to say.

Daryl rubbed a hand over his mouth, searching my face. “I know I ain’t got no right to push ya. Not now.”

I swallowed.

“But whatever it is, ya can tell me.”

I looked at him for a while, then finally let out an exaggerated sigh, admitting, “I think I’m just being a bitch.”

That got a half-smirk out of him. “Ya wanna tell me why..?”

“Not really.”

I couldn’t help but scoff a little as I said it. Between that and his little smile, the room suddenly felt lighter.

I let out a groan. Not able to look him in the eye. “You hugged Carol.”

Daryl’s lips pressed into a hard line. “That why yur actin’ weird?”

I nodded, embarrassed. I didn’t want to make this about me. Didn’t want to put anything more on his shoulders. But he wasn’t wrong.

He frowned. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. “Ath... I...” he trailed off.

I shifted my weight, forcing my arms to loosen at my sides.

His voice was low, careful. “'Cause I ain’t doin’ it to you?”

I nodded again. I felt stupid. But I finally forced out, “You won’t let me near you.”

Daryl looked devastated. He let out a slow breath, like he was trying to find the right words. “Ath... it ain’t ‘cause I don’t-” He stopped, tangling a hand through his hair. “It ain’t ‘cause I don’t want it...”

My throat tightened, and silence stretched between us. I watched him, the uneven rise and fall of his shoulders, like he was working through something he couldn’t put into words.

He took a step toward me, hesitant. “M’sorry.”

I shut my eyes for half a second.

I clenched my hands at my sides. “I don’t want to make things worse.” My voice was quiet, uneven.

Daryl flinched, like the words stung. “Yur not.”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t want to push you.”

“Ya ain’t. Ya haven’t.”

My chest ached. “It is me?”

“What?”

“Is it something about me?” My voice was barely audible. I was trying so hard not to cry.

He didn’t answer, and I couldn’t help the tears falling.

“Fuck.” I choked out.

He moved for me, stopping just short of reaching me. His hands twitching like he wanted to wrap his arms around me but couldn’t. “Ath,” his voice cracked. “It ain’t like that.”

I cried harder at hearing him falter.

I’d been trying so hard to hold it all in since he got back, but now I couldn’t stop the flood.

“Ath...” he breathed, his chest heaving. He didn’t know what to do, and neither did I.

“I can’t.” I sobbed, turning on my heel and walking away from him.

He started following me. "Please..." he breathed.

"Don't." I shot back through my tears. He stopped, reluctantly.

I couldn’t deal with it. I couldn’t. I’d got him back. But I hadn't, and I felt like I was going to lose him for real this time.

I knew he loved me, but maybe it wasn’t enough. Maybe Negan had inflicted too much damage for me to pull him back from. Maybe this was it.

Maybe we couldn't come back from this.

A/N: 😭