Not Today, Sucker

Daryl helped lower me onto Merle’s old, worn-out couch, his arm never once leaving my waist. My body ached, throbbed even, but my heart felt impossibly full.

Briar and Sawyer barreled straight onto us, climbing into our laps with unfiltered joy. I winced when Sawyer landed square on my leg, but didn’t make a sound. I didn’t care.

Daryl’s hand found his hair, brushing it gently. “Easy buddy,” he said, softly. “Mommy’s leg hurts, remember? Gotta be gentle with her.”

Sawyer nodded and curled against my side, small fingers tangled in the hem of my shirt. My hand found Briar’s curls, twisting one gently around my finger. They were really here. We were all really together. I didn’t think the surreal would ever wear off.

The door creaked, and Merle returned, flanked by Annie cradling a bundle in her arms. The sight of the three of them together set off a new wave of emotion for me.

Annie had tears in her eyes the moment she saw us.

“I can’t believe it,” she whispered. “I thought - God, I- I’m so happy you’re both okay.”

Briar was already sitting up straighter, face serious and proud. “Ready to meet my new cousin?”

Annie gave a soft laugh, slowly transferring the baby into Daryl’s arms.

“Support his head, Daddy,” Briar instructed like a tiny expert.

Daryl chuckled, one arm pulling her close as he kissed the top of her head. My heart throbbed at the sight of them, our chaos made whole again.

I reached out, fingers trembling slightly as I stroked the baby’s fine dark hair. “He’s beautiful. Congratulations. What’s his name?”

Merle and Annie exchanged a look, that familiar mischief lighting Merle’s face.

“He’s called DJ,” Briar announced proudly.

Daryl looked up, eyes wide.

“Didn’t know if you two would... y’know. But I wanted to honor my baby brother. Just in case.” Merle admitted.

“He’s called Daryl?” I asked, emotion catching in my throat. “Daryl Junior?”

Annie nodded with a grin. “Might’ve stolen the ‘Junior’ idea from Michonne.”

Daryl had no words. He just cradled DJ closer, thumb gently brushing over his tiny cheek.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, looking between Merle and Annie. “For everything. For taking care of them. I know it can’t have been easy with a newborn.”

Merle shrugged, trying to downplay it. “We had a lotta help. Kids were great. They missed you guys, but they weren’t no trouble.”

“Briar’s been my little helper,” Annie added with a fond smile.

Merle’s face sobered slightly. “I got a lotta questions.”

Daryl glanced at the kids, then back at him. “Later.”

Sawyer shifted in my lap again, and I winced. Daryl immediately caught it.

“Gotta get Siddiq to come take a look,” he said, already rising.

He moved to hand DJ back to Annie, but I reached out, chuckling. “I don’t think so. I want to hold my nephew.”

He placed DJ into my arms, Briar and Sawyer shifting slightly, and I cradled the newborn close, breathing in his soft, powdery scent. He was so small. So new. So much had changed while we were gone.

Siddiq arrived soon after, crouching beside me with a kind smile.

“Athena. Damn, it’s good to see you. I’m so glad you’re okay. Both of you.”

He examined my leg gently, then looked up with a reassuring nod. “Whoever’s been wrapping this did a good job. It’ll heal. Femurs take time, but if we get you on crutches soon, we can start rebuilding the strength.”

Relief made me sag just a little.

As we prepared to leave, Merle offered to keep the kids one more night.

“You two should settle in. Take a breath.”

Daryl shook his head. “Thanks, brother, but we need ‘em with us.”

The short walk next door felt like a dream. Daryl helped me up the porch steps and into our home, steady and strong. But the moment the door shut behind us, I broke.

Tears came hot and fast, no warning. The weight of the time we’d lost, what we almost didn’t get back, crashed down around me.

Daryl caught me in his arms. “Hey, hey, s’okay. We’re back. We’re altogether.”

“I just... I’ve missed so much,” I sobbed into his chest. “We both have.”

Briar peeked back around the corner, eyes wide. “Mommy? Are you okay?”

I smiled through the tears. “I’m fine Sweetie. Me and Daddy are just really glad to be back.”

~

The rest of the afternoon was a beautiful blur of tangled limbs, laughter, and the kind of chaos only small children could orchestrate. We all ended up sprawled across the lounge floor, the kids perched on Daryl’s chest and mine like we were jungle gyms instead of parents recovering from trauma.

Sawyer was mid-story, waving his hands with dramatic flair. “And then Uncle Merle cooked a possum but he burned it black, crunchy black, and he said it was ‘extra crispy’ but Aunt Annie made him eat it all by himself!”

Briar giggled so hard she nearly fell off the couch. “And then he burped for, like, ten minutes and DJ started crying, and Aunt Annie said he was banned from cooking forever!”

Daryl snorted. “Sounds like Uncle Merle.”

“I helped cook too,” Sawyer declared proudly, climbing onto his knees. “I made pancakes. One got stuck on the ceiling.”

“They were terrible,” Briar whispered behind her hand. “But don’t tell him I said that.”

“I heard that!” Sawyer cried, tackling her with all the ferocity of a three-year-old.

“Your pancakes tasted like feet,” Briar squealed, kicking her legs as she laughed. “Uncle Merle said he could chew through steel easier!”

“Did not!” Sawyer huffed, now hanging off Daryl’s shoulder like a little koala. “Tell her, Daddy. I’m good at pancakes like you!”

Daryl looked like he was trying to keep a straight face, but his eyes were dancing with amusement. “M’sure they were great,” he said diplomatically, then added, “Ya can make me some.”

“He won’t let you forget that,” I whispered with a smirk.

He winked at me. “Yeah, yur eatin’ ‘em too.”

Briar stood up suddenly and struck a dramatic pose. “Also! Guess what!? I was in a play.”

“What?” I asked, sitting up straighter, despite the ache in my leg. “A play?”

“Last week,” she said proudly. “At school. We did The Three Little Pigs but Alexandria-style. I was the third pig. With bricks and a machete.”

Daryl blinked. “S’a version I ain’t heard.”

“Yeah,” Sawyer chimed in, grinning. “ I got to watch. The wolf was a walker and he tried to huff and puff, but then Briar jumped out and whacked him in the face!”

Briar mimed swinging a machete with an exaggerated grunt. “And then I said, ‘Not today, sucker!’”

I gasped in mock horror. “Did you really say that?!”

Briar grinned. “No, but I wanted to. Uncle Merle said I should’ve done.”

“Of course he did,” Daryl laughed, grabbing both kids in a swift move and dragging them down into a pile. “You two are trouble.”

“Double trouble!” Sawyer chirped, planting a sloppy kiss on Daryl’s cheek.

“We missed you both lots and lots,” Briar added, snuggling in under Daryl’s arm.

I watched them for a moment, just soaking in the image. The way Daryl’s hand cradled the back of Sawyer’s head. The way Briar nestled in against his side like she’d never left it. And the way his eyes found mine across the bundle of limbs and blankets, soft and glassy with everything he couldn’t say out loud.

He felt it too. We were whole again.

“Hey,” I whispered to Briar, “I hear you’ve been a helpful big cousin.”

“I have. It was easy,” Briar said smugly. “DJ sleeps through anything... He's a good baby. Except when Uncle Merle sings to him. Then he cries. A lot.”

“Uncle Merle's been singin’?” Daryl asked.

“Yeah! He’s really bad!” Sawyer replied.

Daryl smiled, then leaned back on the floor, arms stretched behind his head, the kids piled on top of him again like weighted blankets. “Damn, I missed this.”

~

Later, Michonne arrived with a tray of food and a huge grin.

“I don’t wanna intrude,” she said, pulling Daryl into a tight hug. “But I couldn’t stay away.”

She hugged me too, warm and fierce. “Carl filled me in. I’m so glad you’re both back safe.”

Daryl nodded. “He helped me more than he knows. Ya should be proud.”

“I am,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “He's staying in Alexandria, at least for now. Judith and RJ are thrilled. Judith’s dying to see you both too, but I told her she needed so let you settle back in.”

“I’ll come see her tomorrow.” Daryl promised.

I leaned forward. “Agatha... Is she okay?”

Michonne smiled. “Yeah. Carl told me everything. She can stay.”

“Alpha?” Daryl asked quietly so the kids didn’t hear.

Michonne stiffened. “We’ve adhered to her boundaries.  Haven’t seen anything of any of them since... y’know.”

~

The four of us ate curled up together on the lounge floor, legs tangled over cushions and blankets while the last slivers of daylight spilled through the windows. The tray Michonne had brought was simple but perfect - roasted root vegetables, crispy bread, and some kind of stew that still steamed in the bowl. Sawyer was very excited to announce that this was officially, “A nicpic.”

“Picnic!” Briar corected, throwing her hands in the air, nearly toppling her cup of water. “That’s what he means.”

Daryl gave a low chuckle, helping her steady the cup. “Ain’t never had a picnic indoors before.”

“Now you have,” Sawyer said proudly, handing him a chunk of bread like it was an award.

Briar laid out a towel on the ground like it was a royal blanket. “Everyone sit on the cloth, or it’s not official.”

“Yes, your majesty,” I said, manoeuvring myself slowly, wincing at the twinge in my leg.

Daryl didn’t miss it - he was instantly at my side, adjusting pillows behind my back, his hand brushing over my hair before sitting beside me. “Ya okay?”

“I’m good,” I whispered. And I really was.

Afterward, as we sat in the soft hush that follows a shared meal, Briar leaned her head against my shoulder, “Can we sleep in your bed tonight?”

Her voice was small, almost shy. Like she thought she needed permission to stay close.

“Of course,” I said immediately, “Go get in your PJs.”

Sawyer took off like a cannonball, yelling, “Last one to be dressed is a stinky walker.”

Briar shrieked and sprinted after him.

The moment the kids were out of the room, Daryl turned to me. His hands found my face as his thumbs brushed over my cheeks, a whisper of calloused warmth.

“I love ya,” he said, rough and raw, his voice catching at the end. “Still can’t believe yur here. We’re home.”

“I can’t either,” I whispered back, my heart tight with emotion. I leaned in, kissed him slow and deep, tasting the relief and love.

He helped me up, careful of my leg, his arm never straying. Upstairs, we could already hear the chaos: doors banging open, Briar and Sawyer yelling.

They were already in the bed when we made it to our bedroom. In a fashion...

Sawyer was bouncing on his knees, a red cape (a towel) tied around his neck. “I’m Captain Alexandria!”

He flung himself forward with a whoosh, landing half on Daryl, half on a pillow.

“Careful wildboy” Daryl grunted, catching him mid-bounce and flipping him gently onto his back. “Watch mommy’s leg, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Sawyer said solemnly, flopping down with exaggerated care. “Legs are sacred.”

Briar had her toy doctor’s kit open and was now trying to check my heartbeat with a tiny plastic stethoscope. “Mommy, you’re gonna make a full recovery,” she declared with professional authority. “But you need two hugs a day and at least one cookie.”

“Doctor’s orders?” I asked.

“Doctor Briar’s,” she corrected, tucking the blanket over me with the precision of a field nurse.

Chaos reigned for the next twenty minutes. Sawyer insisted on showing us all the “super moves he’d invented. Briar kept trying to examine Daryl’s ears with her plastic otoscope. Daryl just rolled with it, wrangling them with one arm while keeping me tucked close with the other. Laughter filled every inch of the room, bouncing off the walls and bleeding into the corners of my heart I thought might never feel warm again.

Eventually, the storm passed. The kids, worn down from the emotional day and the excitement of our reunion, finally collapsed in between us, nestled in tight under the blankets. The room was dark except for the soft glow of the lamp on the dresser. The silence was thick, but peaceful. Sacred.

I turned toward Daryl, my fingers reaching across the kids for his. He linked them instantly, holding tight.

“Wasn’t sure I’d get this again,” I murmured.

His eyes met mine in the dim light, steady and full of quiet truth. He brought our hands to his lips and kissed my knuckles, one by one.

“Yur here,” he said. “Yur safe.”

“I just...” My throat thickened. “I don’t want to waste another second.”

“We won’t,” he promised. “We already lost too much time. Now, we hold onto what we got. Tight.”

I nodded, blinking back tears I didn’t have the energy to stop.

He leaned over, resting his forehead against mine, the heat of his breath mingling with my own.

“We’re home, baby.”

And finally, there on our cramped, messy bed full of mismatched pajamas, plastic doctor tools, and the kind of love that defies logic, I let myself believe it.

We were home. For real.

And no one - no one - was going to take this from us again.

The bedroom felt so peaceful, filled only with the hush of the night and the even breaths of our children, tangled between us in the sheets. Daryl’s hand still reaching across holding mine, our fingers twined loosely, skin to skin.

“I'm so tired,” I mumbled, eyes heavy, body aching in every way a body could, “But it’s gross how we still haven’t showered.”

Daryl let out a low, rasping laugh. He turned his head on the pillow to look at me, eyes soft and amused. “Yeah. Didn’t wanna be away from these two for a second.”

“They’re asleep now,” I said, lifting my brows. “We really should.”

“M’kay.” He smirked, the corners of his mouth twitching into mischief. “Better do it together though… with your leg ‘n’ all.”

I grinned, barely holding in a laugh. “Yeah. Wouldn’t want me to struggle.”

He rolled out of bed with quiet care, his every movement gentle so the kids wouldn’t stir. Then he crossed to my side and offered his hand. “C’mon,” he whispered.

I let him pull me up slowly, his arms steadying me as I found my footing. He pressed a kiss to the crown of my head, and something about the way his lips lingered made warmth unfurl in my chest.

He led me into the bathroom, locking the door behind us before switching on the shower. The pipes groaned, then warm steam began to fill the air, softening the cold tile under our bare feet.

Daryl turned to me and began helping me undress carefully, like each button and fold was a ceremony. He’d probably thought he’d never see me like this again. My shirt fell away, then the rest, until I stood before him, a little frailer and healing, but whole. His gaze never wavered. Not once.

I leaned on the wall, letting the warm mist kiss my skin as he undressed himself. When he peeled away the last of the grime-covered fabric and stepped toward me, I couldn’t stop staring. The lines of his body were cut and weathered with years of battle - scars old and new, but I still found him more beautiful by the day.

He helped me step into the shower, his hands steady on my waist. The moment the water hit my skin, I gasped - a small, surprised sound. It was almost too much at first. The warmth stung in a way that was almost emotional, peeling away layers of dirt, of pain, of fear. It felt like being reborn.

I tipped my head back, letting the water stream down my face as Daryl moved behind me, arms curling around my middle so I wouldn’t slip. His touch was careful, reverent.

“God,” I sighed, closing my eyes. “I didn’t know how much I needed this.”

He kissed the side of my neck, soft and slow. “Mhmh.”

He reached for the shampoo and worked it into my hair with gentle fingers, massaging my scalp with infinite patience. Every stroke of his hands left trails of fire across my skin. I leaned into him, sighing as tension melted from my shoulders.

When he began to wash my body, it was with the same quiet attention. His palms glided over me, down my arms, across my back. The soft lather and his calloused touch made me shiver, even beneath the heat of the water. Each pass of his hands said I love ya. I found ya. Ain't letting go.

I turned carefully, facing him, and he kissed me like we had all the time in the world. There was nothing rushed about it. Nothing frantic. Just aching need wrapped in tenderness.

My fingers curled against his jaw, and he dipped his head to mine again, whispering against my lips, “Ya okay?”

I nodded, voice breaking. “Better than okay.”

He supported me against the wall as we kissed, slow and deep, the water cascading over us like rain. Every touch was a rediscovery. Every breath a promise.

Even though my body felt battered, I needed him. All of him.

“I want you.” I breathed.

Not even my leg could make him resist.

We moved together in the quiet, steam-wrapped space, slow and aching and raw. His strength held me upright as we made gentle love, his arms never leaving me, his lips never far from mine. It was perfect.

And when it was over, when we stood under the stream just holding each other, I felt it in my bones. We were home. Not just in Alexandria, not just with the kids. But here. In each other.

Daryl pressed his forehead to mine again, the way he always did when words fell short.

“I love ya,” he said again, voice low and hoarse.

“I love you more,” I breathed, sinking against him.

And in the warm silence, wrapped in steam and skin and second chances, we just stood there.

Together.

Alive.

Really home.