One of the Good Things

I woke to warmth. A solid, familiar weight beside me. The scent of smoke, sweat, and Daryl filling my senses before I even opened my eyes. My fingers twitched, feeling something solid wrapped around them, and I smiled as I realized he hadn't let go of my hand.

The moment he noticed I was stirring, his lips found mine.

It was soft at first, but the second I reciprocated, he kissed me harder, like he needed to keep doing it, like stopping wasn't an option. Almost as though the act was something he had to reclaim.

I barely had time to catch my breath before he pressed another kiss to my lips, then another. His hands, rough and careful all at once, cupped my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheekbones.

A breathy laugh escaped me between kisses. "Daryl-"

But he didn't stop.

His lips moved to the corner of my mouth, then along my jaw, his breath warm against my skin. My heart thundered in my chest. I'd missed this so goddamn much.

He kissed me again, lingering this time, and I melted into him, letting myself feel it, letting myself feel him.

When he was finally done, I opened my eyes to find his inches from mine, stormy blue and filled with a delicate peace I hadn't seen for too long.

"You good?" I murmured, touching his face, my fingers tracing the scruff along his jaw.

He exhaled, leaning into my touch. "Mhmh."

I smiled, brushing my thumb over his bottom lip. "I've missed this."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his hands still framing my face like he was afraid to let go.

I nudged him lightly. "You know, this is basically exposure therapy."

Daryl squinted at me. "Huh?"

"You keep doing the thing that scares you-" I gestured between us, "-and eventually, it won't scare you anymore."

He scoffed, shaking his head, but the ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. "Ain't scared."

I raised an eyebrow. "No?"

His fingers tightened in my hair, his eyes darkening. "No."

Then he kissed me again, deep and slow, proving it.

Eventually, he cleared his throat, pulling away just enough to sit up. "C'mon," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. "Carol might even have coffee for ya."

I didn't want to move, but I knew we had planning to do, plus a long journey back to Hilltop to make before dark. I let him pull me up, and we stepped into the small kitchen where Carol was already moving about, a pot of coffee on the stove and a pan of cornbread set out to cool.

"Good morning, lovebirds," she said without looking up.

Daryl scoffed, but I caught the faint pink in his ears. I smirked and leaned against the counter. "Morning, Carol."

We spent the morning talking through everything we knew about the Sanctuary. Its layout, its defences, what we could use to our advantage. It was a slow, methodical conversation, full of half-remembered details and speculation. Every time Daryl spoke about it, his jaw clenched tighter, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

I knew what being there had done to him. I knew how much he hated thinking about it. But he kept talking, kept answering questions, because it meant stopping the Saviors.

The cottage was quiet, filled with the occasional scrape of chairs against the floor as we repositioned the rough map we'd sketched. The tension in Daryl's shoulders never fully eased. Even as we sat side by side, his fingers tapping restlessly on the table, I could feel his mind drifting back to that cold cell.

Our hands all instinctively landed on our weapons as the front door burst open.

Ezekiel, Morgan, and Richard rushed inside, a teenage boy I'd been told was called Benjamin's limp form hanging between them. Blood soaked his pants, spreading in a deep red stain over his thigh.

"He's been shot," Morgan gasped, voice tight with urgency. "Two rounds to the leg."

Carol shot to her feet, already reaching for the limited medical supplies she had. Daryl stiffened beside me, his entire body coiling with barely restrained fury as his eyes snapped to Richard.

"I told you to stay the hell away from here," he snarled.

Richard's face was pale, his hands clenched into shaking fists at his sides. "I-I didn't-" He looked at Benjamin, eyes wide and unblinking.

Daryl moved like he wanted to lunge at him, but I caught the hesitation in his eyes as he glanced back at the injured boy.

I pulled the map from the table so they could lay Benjamin down. Carol pressed bandages against his wounds, trying to stem the bleeding.

"I need more cloth," she said, her voice steady despite the panic in her eyes.

I grabbed what I could from the cabinets, pressing the fabric into her hands. Daryl hovered beside me, breathing hard, his glare still fixed on Richard.

"He was supposed to be safe," Richard whispered, barely audible.

Daryl's rage burned, but he didn't lash out. Not with Benjamin lying there, bleeding out on Carol's dining table.

Minutes stretched into eternity as we worked, but the color in Benjamin's face faded too quickly. His breaths grew shallow.

Ezekiel was the first to notice. He pressed his fingers against Benjamin's throat, waiting. Hoping.

And then, slowly, he pulled his hand away.

Carol swallowed hard. She stood, eyes flicking between all of us, before she reached for a white sheet and gently draped it over Benjamin's lifeless form.

Morgan stood there for a long time, staring. His face was eerily blank, but his hands trembled. Then, without a word, he pulled out a knife and sank into Benjamin's temple, stopping him from turning. He wiped the knife clean with slow, deliberate movements. Then, without another glance at any of us, he turned and walked out the door.

None of us spoke, not for a long time.

Daryl was the one to eventually break the silence. "Ya want me to bury him?" he asked, quiet and respectful. He was looking at Ezekiel, but the king wasn't really looking at anything at all. His hands trembled where they rested on his knees, his breath slow, shallow - like he wasn't really in his body anymore. He didn't answer.

Richard stepped forward. "I'll do it," he said, his voice quiet but firm.

Daryl snapped his eyes to him, that barely restrained anger flickering back to life. I could feel it coiling off him, the tension in his shoulders making him look ready to throw a punch, maybe worse.

But Richard didn't meet his glare. His gaze was fixed on Benjamin's lifeless form, his face pale and drawn.

He bent down and, with surprising gentleness, lifted Benjamin into his arms. The boy's body hung limp, his head falling against Richard's chest. He hesitated for only a moment before carrying him toward the door. The wooden frame creaked as it opened, letting in a gust of cool air. And then he was gone.

A heavy silence settled over the room once again.

Daryl exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. "Think we oughta stay?" he asked me quietly, glancing toward Carol and then Ezekiel, who still hadn't moved.

Carol overheard. "No," she said, firm but kind. "You need to go."

Daryl frowned. "Ya good here?"

She turned to him then, stepping closer, dropping her voice low. "We don't have time... Go get them ready. Leave the Kingdom to me."

She wasn't wrong. We couldn't afford to wait around.

I leaned into her. "Carol... be careful with Richard... he's not who you think he is."

She looked unsurprised, like she was already onto him.

Daryl hesitated for another second before his fingers reached for my wrist, gripping it gently. "C'mon," he muttered.

~

It should have taken us half the time to reach the Hilltop. But between the walkers and the way Daryl kept stopping to kiss me, it was well into the night by the time we got close.

The first time, it was quick - a brief press of his lips to mine after we'd taken down a pair of walkers. I thought it was just an impulse, something he'd done without thinking.

But then, after the next fight, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me in again, kissing me hard before pulling away just as fast.

By the third time, I was laughing. "Are we gonna do this every time? Not that I'm complaining."

Daryl didn't answer. He just looked at me, something unreadable in his eyes, before kissing me again, slower this time.

It wasn't just about the act, it was a fuck you to his inner turmoil. He had to keep doing it to remind himself he could. He touched me like he had to, like if he didn't keep doing it, he might lose the ability.

I could still feel how his hands shook when they touched me, but he fought through it, gripping my waist like he was grounding himself.

I slid my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. "I'm here," I whispered against his lips.

He exhaled sharply, pressing his forehead to mine. He didn't say anything, but I felt the way his arms tightened around me, the way he kissed me again like he was trying to drown out everything else.

We pulled apart just as another walker stumbled into view. Daryl cursed under his breath, raising his knife, and I smirked, wiping my thumb over my lips. "Guess I'm in for another kiss."

Daryl shot me a look, but there was a spark of something in his eyes - something lighter. "Smartass."

~

The gates of Hilltop finally loomed before us, torches flickering in the night breeze. The journey from the Kingdom had been long, our legs stiff from hours of walking, but Daryl barely seemed to notice.

He hadn't said much since we passed the outer fields. He hadn't needed to. I could read it in his face, the way his jaw clenched and his eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead. He wasn't thinking about battle plans or supply lines. He was thinking about Maggie. About Beth. And about Hershel.

Daryl had faced down enemies, torn through the dead like they were nothing, survived more than any man should have been forced to endure - but facing them was different.

"They don't blame you, Daryl." I reminded him. "I told you what they said."

His fingers flexed on the strap of his bag, but he didn't respond.

I sighed softly, reaching across the space between us to squeeze his arm. "Hey," I tried again, gentler this time. "They don't blame you."

He wouldn't meet my eyes. "Don't mean I don't."

I didn't push. There were things he carried that words couldn't fix, guilt that settled so deep it became a part of him. I could remind him, reassure him, but I couldn't force him to believe it.

The gates creaked open, and we stepped inside, the familiar scent of smoke and earth filling my nose. Hilltop had changed in the short time we'd been gone. Areas for weapons training, the walls reinforced with thick timber - subtle signs that war was coming.

Waiting for us, standing just inside the gates with his arms crossed, was Jesus.

"You two look like hell," he greeted with a smirk, though his sharp eyes softened when they landed on Daryl. "Long trip?"

Daryl grunted. "Somethin' like that."

Jesus nodded. "Maggie and Glenn are expecting you."

At the mention of Maggie's name, Daryl stiffened.

I could see Jesus register it, but he didn't call it out. Instead, he turned on his heel and motioned for us to follow. "C'mon. I know it's late, but we need to talk. There's a lot to go over."

We followed him through the community, past tired guards patrolling the fences, as he explained that Beth had returned to Alexandria to help take care of Judith, and how the residents had already begun looking to Maggie and Glenn as Hilltop's de facto leaders - due to Gregory's cowardliness, no doubt.

Jesus led us to his trailer, where a small table and a few chairs were set up outside. Glenn was already perched there, he greeted us.

"It's getting a little cramped in the trailer," he explained, already pulling out a rough map of the region. "We need to go over how things went at the Kingdom."

Daryl sat, but I could see the stiffness in his frame, the way he kept his eyes low.

Maggie appeared carrying a bowl in one hand, another tucked in the crook of her arm. Wordlessly, she set one in front of me, and the other in front of Daryl. "Eat," she said, no room for argument.

Daryl hesitated. But Maggie wasn't having it. She set a firm hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

His throat bobbed again. He didn't look at her, just kept his gaze on the bowl, but after a beat, he picked up the spoon.

She just sat down across from us and pulled out her own map, getting straight to business. And though the guilt still lingered in Daryl's eyes, I hoped her gesture had eased him somehow.

We filled them in on what had happened to Benjamin, what Richard had planned for Carol before we stopped him, how Ezekiel was reluctant but Carol was on it.

Maggie told us the Hilltop's blacksmith was busy making spears to trade with the Kingdom for body armor, andJesus expressed how impressed he was with how quickly the residents were picking up using weapons.

~

The next morning, Hilltop was already stirring when we emerged from our room, its people moving with quiet determination, sharpening blades, fortifying walls, preparing for the war that loomed ever closer.

Daryl and I stood near the training yard, watching as Maggie and Glenn worked with a group of residents, showing them how to handle a knife in close combat. Maggie moved with precision, demonstrating proper grips and angles, correcting stances with a firm but patient hand. These weren't warriors - most were farmers, blacksmiths, and tradesmen - but the Rhee's were determined to make fighters out of them.

Daryl's arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes flicking from Maggie and Glenn to the recruits.

A sudden sharp clang rang out across the yard, followed by shouting as guard on the wall sounded the alarm.

"The Saviors are coming!"

Shit.

My stomach dropped. People scrambled to their stations, some grabbing weapons, others running for cover. Daryl tensed beside me, his hand instinctively going to his knife.

Glenn moved toward us, his expression hard. "We have to hide."

Daryl's jaw clenched. "I ain't runnin'-"

"Isn't about running," he cut him off, already moving. "If they find any of us here, they'll punish the whole community. We can't risk that."

He was right. Daryl was the Saviors' most wanted, me not far behind... If they knew we were here, they'd tear through Hilltop to get to us. I don't think Negan would be too happy about finding Maggie and Glenn here fraternizing either.

Maggie appeared at Glenn's side, her face tight with urgency. "Come on. The root cellar."

The hatch creaked as Glenn pulled it open, revealing the dark underground storage space. Maggie dropped down first, then me, then Daryl, and finally Glenn, pulling the hatch shut above us.

The air inside was cool and damp, the space lined with shelves stacked high with jars of preserved vegetables and sacks of grain. The scent of earth and aging produce was strong.

Daryl immediately made his way to the small, slatted opening near the hatch, peering out. Above us, we could hear voices - Saviors barking orders, the shuffle of boots on dirt.

Maggie tugged at my sleeve. "Over here."

She led us to a deeper corner of the cellar, a shadowed space behind shelves stocked with dried goods. It was dark, concealed - if the Saviors did come down, it would be our best chance of staying hidden.

As we crouched into place, I turned to Maggie, keeping my voice low. "Where's Sasha? Did she go back to Alexandria?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't know."

A chill ran down my spine. I really hoped Sasha had found somewhere to hide.

Above us, we heard footsteps nearing.

"Shit." I realized. "What about Enid?"

"She doesn't have to hide. They won't recognize her as one of us." Glenn reassured me.

I nodded, my heart hammering in my chest as the sound of boots drew closer.

Then, metal hinges groaned. The cellar door was opening.

Daryl went rigid beside me, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his knife. Maggie's hand shot out, pressing against his wrist, silently warning him not to move.

Through the dim light filtering in from the open hatch, I saw the shape of a Savior descending - tall, broad-shouldered, armed. He moved with casual confidence, scanning the shelves as he plucked a few items and stuffed them into his pack.

I felt Daryl's fury rear like a snake about to strike. His whole body vibrated with barely restrained rage. His breath came in shallow, harsh exhales. His grip on his knife tightened.

He was seconds away from launching.

Maggie pressed harder against his arm, her fingers digging in.

Not now, her grip said.

The Savior glanced around lazily, poking through a few more crates before finally stepping back toward the hatch.

He smirked to himself. "Nice haul," he muttered, then turned and climbed out, shutting the hatch behind him.

Silence fell.

We waited, listening as his boots receded.

Finally, Maggie exhaled, releasing Daryl's arm.

His whole body was still rigid, his jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth might break. He moved out from behind the shelves, obviously feeling claustrophobic.

Maggie followed him.

Tension seethed in the air. Glenn and I exchanged a look - an unspoken agreement to stay the hell out of the interaction between our respective spouses. It was long overdue. Instead, we peered out between the gaps in the shelves, hoping they'd forget we were here.

Maggie's voice was firm. "You were gonna kill that guy..."

"He was gonna find us." Daryl replied, eyes fixed on the floor.

Maggie sighed. "He wasn't, and he didn't."

Daryl's nostrils flared. "He deserved to die."

Maggie wasn't stupid - she noticed how he couldn't look at her. How his chest heaved.

"Ever since you got here, you haven't said a word to me," she said softly. "Would you look at me, please?"

He didn't. He couldn't.

He sniffed, and I knew he was breaking. I wanted to rush to him - but I didn't. This needed to happen.

"Daryl." She tried again.

I noticed that Glenn and I were both holding our breath.

Then, after a long, heavy pause, Daryl finally turned his head to her, and it broke my heart to see tears already forming in his eyes.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I'm sorry."

My own eyes filled up.

After a moment, understanding dawned on Maggie. "It wasn't your fault." She told him.

Daryl sniffed again, a tear breaking free. "It was."

"No. It wasn't."

Daryl wiped at his wet face. Maggie did the same to hers.

So did I. So did Glenn.

"You're one of the good things in this world." Maggie's eyes glistened. "That's what my father thought. And he would know, 'cause he was one of the good things, too."

Glenn sniffed loudly beside me. I jabbed him.

"I wanted to kill that guy, too." She continued. "I want to string them all up and watch them die. But we have to win." She wrapped her arms around him. "Help me win."

Daryl blinked hard, nodding once as he relaxed a little into her embrace.

I looked at Glenn, wet-faced.

He looked at me, also wet-faced.

We stood in unison.

We were getting in on this hug.

~

We emerged from the cellar to discover Negan's men had taken Hilltop's doctor, which worried Glenn. He was supposed to be keeping an eye on Maggie. We didn't have time to dwell on it though, as the guards announced another arrival, and Hilltop's gates creaked open, revealing Rick, Michonne, Tara, Aaron, Eric and Merle.

Thank God they hadn't arrived any earlier.

We exchanged greetings - Merle beaming to see Daryl looking a little more like himself.

"We found another community," Rick then announced. "Oceanside. Tara's been there before. They got weapons - lots of 'em. We need their help, and we need their guns."

Jesus nodded. "Sasha's not here, but I'll go."

Daryl was already heading toward a vehicle. "I'm in."

I didn't hesitate. "Me too."

Rick's gaze landed on Glenn. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maggie's gonna kill me." Then he shook his head and muttered, "Yeah, I'm in."

~

Outside Oceanside, the air smelled like salt and wet sand. The trees rustled in the breeze, but we all knew better than to trust the peace.

Michonne climbed a tree, rifle in tow, her silhouette barely visible against the branches. Daryl, Jesus and I crouched near the perimeter, planting the explosives, while Aaron and Eric kept watch.

Rick and Merle were staring at Michonne, mouths agape, impressed by how quickly she'd got so high in the air.

"I could do that." I heard Merle joke.

I felt Daryl's eyes on me as I adjusted my grip on my gun. His hand brushed my back for the briefest second.

Jesus exhaled sharply, gaze flicking to the ground. "Sasha's gone to the Sanctuary."

"Huh?" Was all I could say.

"She went with Rosita." He revealed, looking ashamed that he hadn't told us sooner - or stopped them.

Abraham's ex girlfriend and his new fling joining forces to avenge his death? It was kind of poetic, but it still worried the shit out of me, and Daryl could tell.

"She's a good shot," he tried to reassure me. "She could already be back."

I didn't believe him. I don't think he believed himself either.

~

The rest of our time at Oceanside was a cluster fuck.

Explosions, hostages, a herd... but in the end, we walked away with Oceanside's weapons on loan. They didn't seem happy about it, refusing to join the fight - and I had no clue how Tara had managed to arrange the deal - but she had - and now we were leaving.

As we headed back to the cars, a sadness settled over me.

"Ya okay?" Daryl asked when we reached the vehicles.

I sighed. "I wanna go home."

"Yeah. It's been a long-ass day."

"No." I corrected him. "I wanna go home - to Alexandria."

He looked at me, his mind turning over. "It ain't safe."

"Is anywhere?"

He sighed. "Ya sure that's what ya wanna do?"

"Yeah." I confirmed. "I want us to go home."

His fingers brushed mine. Just for a second.

"Yo Rick!" He hollered. Ya got room for two more?"

A/N: Back to Alexandria, we go!

Am I dragging out the lead up to All Out War too much?

I feel like it's the perfect opportunity to get Daryl and Athena back on track so he's at full strength for the Negan showdown - but I also don't want to bore you. 🤣

Please don't forget to vote and comment if you enjoyed. 🙏❤️