Come Back To Me

Athena

I don't remember getting here.

Everything after we'd left the gas station felt like a blur - blurred trees, blurred ground, blurred time. My legs had moved on their own. My body had carried him alongside Lydia with a strength I didn't know I had because the only thing louder than my exhaustion was the scream inside me.

Now we were on the ground in a hollow of trees, the woods thick with underbrush and bramble, enough to shield us from view - hopefully enough to protect us from whatever was still out there.

It wasn't ideal. I'd have carried him all the way to Hilltop if I could've - taken him to Enid and begged her to help him. But I couldn't. Every time we jostled him, his wound was pushing more blood out despite the tourniquet... I'd seen how much he'd lost already. Every precious drop that escaped further risked taking him from me. We had to stop. We had to give his body a chance.

Lydia had muttered that we were outside the border of Whisperer territory. Close enough to danger to feel it... but far enough to breathe.

Not that I could.

Not while he was like this.

I sat with my back pressed against a tree trunk, the bark digging into my spine, and Daryl laid across me like something sacred - which he was, and something broken I couldn't afford to let go of even for a second. His head rested in the crook of my elbow, his face tilted slightly toward my chest. My arms cradled him the way they had Briar when she was sick as a baby - desperate, careful, full of silent pleading.

He was still too pale.

Too still.

His breathing was shallow and uneven. Every few minutes, his chest would pause just long enough for panic to crash into my throat. I'd lean close, wait for the twitch of his ribs, the faint puff of breath against my arm - and when it came, weak and rattling, I'd press my lips to his forehead and breathe again.

I couldn't stop staring at his face.

Every cut, every bruise, every streak of dried blood felt like a brand burned into my memory. His eyelashes were clumped with sweat. There was dirt under his fingernails. A faint smear of blood dried beneath one ear, trailing into his hairline. The cuts beneath his eyes were deep, painful-looking. I can't imagine how hard it would've been for him to fight with blood blurring his vision.

But he had. He'd fought like he always did - like hell.

My fingers traced the edge of his jaw - slow, rhythmic, like if I stopped touching him, he might slip away.

Shock had set in, I think. I wasn't crying anymore. I'd run out of tears miles ago. Now it was just this... cold numbness. Like someone had peeled back my skin and exposed every nerve to the open air.

I wasn't even sure I was still breathing properly. Every second was a silent question.

Will he wake up?

What if he doesn't?

How could the world go on without him? My world?

Those three lines. Carved into old wood with blood on his hands and pain in his bones. He'd said goodbye. He'd believed he was dying. Maybe still was.

That thought kept coming back like a knife in the gut - over and over and over.

Daryl Dixon. My husband. My home.

I pressed a kiss to his temple, gently rocked him a little so I could feel like I was doing something. My throat felt raw from sobbing earlier, but now my voice came out so soft I barely recognized it.

"You're okay," I whispered, lying for both of us. "You're gonna be okay, baby. You rest. I've got you."

Lydia sat a few feet away, curled in on herself, her knees pulled tight to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. She wasn't crying, not anymore. She just looked... hollow. Empty. Her eyes were on the ground, unblinking, like she wasn't even really here.

She'd already lost something today. Alpha wasn't a mother - she didn't deserve that title - but to Lydia, that's the name she knew her by. And I'd taken her from her. Ripped her from the earth with bare hands and didn't regret a single fucking second of it.

But that didn't mean Lydia hadn't still lost something.

I made myself speak. My voice cracked from the effort.

"Thank you," I said, eyes not leaving Daryl's face. "For finding him, helping him."

Silence.

Then after a moment. "I owed him."

She didn't elaborate, and I didn't press her. I didn't have it in me even if I'd wanted to. There'd be another time for that. If she wanted to cry, scream, hit me. I'd deal with that then. I'd let her have that chance.

But not now. Not when the words hadn't settled within her yet, the anger. Not when I was cradling my whole heart in my arms, battered and beaten and barely hanging on.

I looked down at him again. My fingertips brushed the soft hair behind his ear. I kissed his brow once, twice, like a promise.

"You stay with me," I whispered. "You're not allowed to go."

And as the forest whispered around us, I sat frozen in time - cradling my world, praying to gods I didn't believe in, and refusing to let him go.

~

It had been hours. I wasn't sure how many. It was probably afternoon now, though the cover of the trees hid a lot of the light. Maybe it was even growing into evening, though it felt impossible that time still dared to move forward when everything in me was frozen.

Daryl still hadn't stirred. His skin was like porcelain under my fingertips - cool, unmoving. His face, so often flushed from the sun or the hunt, was still frighteningly pale. But he was breathing. Still labored, shallow... but steady.

That breath was all I had.

I held him like he might float away if I let go - my back still pressed against the crooked tree trunk, his body curled into mine, heavy and limp. My hand hadn't stopped stroking through his hair, damp with old sweat, tangled and soft and blood-matted at the ends. I tried not to look at his leg. The tourniquet had stopped the bleeding, but the fabric of my torn shirt was stained a sick, deep red that made my stomach turn whenever my eyes caught it.

Lydia hadn't spoken again. She sat close enough to reach him if she needed to, far enough to give us space. Watching over him like a quiet guardian.

But eventually, she stood.

"Gonna need something for the pain," she mumbled. "When he wakes up."

When. Not if. When.

When he wakes up. Because anything else was unthinkable to her, too.

I didn't answer. Just nodded. She vanished into the trees, but I knew she wouldn't go far. Not with Daryl like this. She cared about him. Maybe even more than I'd realized.

Now we were alone. And the reality of the situation hit me all over again.

I brushed my fingers down the side of his face. His stubble was rough against my thumb, and I tried to traced the shape of his jaw, the curve of his lips. I knew them like I knew my own bones - but right now, I felt like I was trying to hold him here with touch alone. As if I could keep his soul anchored to this world just by loving him hard enough.

"Hey, you," I whispered, my voice breaking, barely there.

He didn't stir. Of course he didn't.

I leaned down and pressed my lips to his forehead for the millionth time, closing my eyes. His breath ghosted over my jaw, just barely. But it was there.

"You probably can't hear me," I said, "but I'm gonna talk anyway... Even if it's only the trees that listen."

I pulled him closer still, kissed the crown of his head, and exhaled shakily.

"Remember when we met? That day in the woods, when you tried to steal my deer?" Though my eyes were starting to glisten, I smiled a little despite myself. I knew he'd have argued it was his deer if he was able to.

"You stepped out of the trees with your crossbow and a look in your eyes like you didn't trust a single soul. I knew right then I was already in trouble. You took my breath away from that first moment... I think my heart started following you before my feet ever did."

I sniffed quietly, holding back the tears for now, but I knew they'd escape eventually.

"You had such an attitude. You didn't even used to look at me when you talked in those early days. And I was a damn hurricane. I drove you nuts. You said I was exhausting. Said I never shut up, never took anything seriously."

I stroked his cheek with the backs of my fingers.

"But you started watching. I saw it. Even when you thought I didn't. You watched every time I fought. Every time I smiled. I saw the moment your walls started to crack. The moment you started to let me in, even though I knew you were scared to."

I took a deep, trembling breath.

"I loved you before I even knew it. Those nights on the road after the farm, when you'd plant yourself next to me, not saying a word but just being there. You didn't know it, but that got me through a lot of days, the ones where everything felt pointless, the ones where I was exhausted and hungry and fed up."

I swallowed. Battling to hold myself together so I could keep talking. Keep telling him.

"At the prison, when I was struggling - you saw right through me. You kept trying to get me to talk about it, and I shut you out. But then that night, when you came into my cell and I collapsed onto you in tears - you held me so tight it felt like you were clasping my entire being together with your arms... Then when I finally told you who I was, what I'd done... You didn't falter for a second. Didn't hate me. Didn't think I was a monster. You just saw me, held my hand through it. Told me you'd have done the same."

My throat ached. My eyes burned. I looked down at him - his face still slack, his lashes dark against his cheeks. He looked like he was just sleeping.

"That first time you kissed me... God. I'd never felt anything like that in my life. You grabbed me like if you didn't do it then, you never would, and it lit my soul on fire as soon as your lips met mine. It was like the world stopped for a second. Like for once, there wasn't blood or fear or survival. Just you. Just us."

I looked down at his hand, taking it and pressing a kiss to his wedding ring, not caring one bit about the blood and grime coating the metal.

"And when you asked me to marry you..." My lips trembled. "When you pulled my ring out of your pocket and said those words, I was so desperate to kiss you, I don't think I even said yes at first... But of course it was yes. How could it ever have been anything else?

Tears started to roll down my cheeks now, but I didn't wipe them away. He was worth every single one.

"You gave me them, Daryl. Our beautiful babies. And you're the best dad they could ever have wished for... even though nobody showed you how to be. But it's like it was just inside you - to know how to be an incredible father, to show them all the love you deserved to have when you were little."

I tucked his hair behind his ear, my fingertips shaking.

"You've always tried so hard to protect me, to keep me safe. You dug me out of wreckage, gave me your blood to keep me alive. You found me again when I was gone for months, brought me back to you and the kids. I remember how you looked when you walked into that corridor at the Covenant - I could tell how hard you must have been fighting to keep it together, but you came for me. You always have. You've always fought for me. And I swore I'd always protect you. I swore I'd never let anything happen to you - that I'd always make sure you knew just how precious you were, how loved."

I choked on the last word, my stomach twisting.

"But I wasn't there to keep you safe. I let you leave without saying goodbye. I didn't tell you that I loved you. I didn't tell you to be safe, and now-"

I couldn't finish. I curled into him tighter, my fingers clutching at him. My heart breaking as my tears fell faster, dripping onto his pale skin.

"You're the strongest person I've ever met. The bravest. You've walked through hell more times than I can count, and you always keep going. I don't know how. I just know I need you to keep going now, because I can't do this without you. I can't. Please, baby. I can't."

"You're my heart, Daryl Dixon. My whole fucking world. So if you can hear me - even just a little - come back. Please, baby. I need you. Briar and Sawyer, they need you. Please, don't leave us. Don't leave me. I love you. I love you so damn much."

I leaned down, pressing my mouth to his, and kissed him softly. I couldn't stop crying now. The kind of sobs that tear through your chest like they're ripping you apart from the inside out. The kind that made it hard to breathe. I held him even tighter, tighter than I thought possible, like I could somehow give him my breath, my blood, my strength - whatever the hell he needed to stay.

My tears soaked into his shirt, into his skin, his hair. The silence was starting to feel so final and I couldn't bear it.

"Please," I whispered again against his temple. "Please don't leave me, sweetheart. I need you."

I don't know how long I was like that, clinging to him like a lifeline, until I felt another presence beside me. A quiet one. Gentle. Lydia.

I hadn't heard her return. I didn't know how much she'd seen, how much of my desperate monologue she'd heard, but I didn't care. Not anymore. There were no secrets left when the love of your life could be dying in your arms.

She sat beside me slowly, pulling her knees to her chest, a few sprigs of white willow bark dangling from her fingertips. Her eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, but she didn't say a word.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," The words cracked from my chest, raw and full of helpless terror. "If he doesn't wake up. What am I going to do?"

It wasn't fair to dump that on her - I knew that - not when I'd just killed her mother with my bare hands. Not when she'd watched it happen and hadn't said a word. But the pain had cracked me open, and everything was spilling out.

"I can't do this without him. I can't."

Still, Lydia didn't speak. Slowly though, she leaned her head on my shoulder, like she'd done it a thousand times before, and reached out with trembling fingers to stroke Daryl's forearm.

Her touch was so careful, so heartbreakingly tender.

She had tears in her eyes again too. Maybe for Alpha. Maybe for Daryl. Maybe for everything - for the world that had turned sour before she was even old enough to understand it. For what she'd lost. For what she was afraid of losing still.

I pressed a hard kiss to the crown of her head, and we sat there, unmoving, locked in our own separate grief but bound by the man we both desperately needed to stay.

~

I wasn't sure how long had passed. The light was fading again - just slightly - but enough to tell me that darkness was creeping in. I was starting to question whether we needed to try moving Daryl, getting him to Hilltop, to Enid. Wondering if we'd made a mistake not doing that in the first place. But I also knew how weak his body was, how much blood he'd lost, and that trying could make things much worse.

I didn't know what the fuck to do.

I was stuck in some sort of loop now. All I could do was whisper the same desperate words over and over as I held him close.

I love you.

I'm sorry.

Please.

And then-

His fingers twitched.

It was the smallest movement. If I'd blinked, I would've missed it. But my breath caught. My whole body went rigid. I looked down at his hand in disbelief.

"Daryl?" I whispered, too afraid to speak louder in case it shattered the moment.

He didn't move again, and I felt my stomach sink.

But then - a flicker. His brow tensed. A shift in his jaw. His lashes fluttered against his cheek.

"Daryl," I said again, louder now, hope crashing through me like a tidal wave. I cupped his face with my free hand, fingers trembling as they brushed the scruff along his jaw. "Come on, baby, open your eyes. Please..."

A soft, broken noise escaped his throat - a grunt, almost. His lips parted.

And then - like the most sacred miracle I'd ever seen - his eyes opened.

Barely. Heavy-lidded, bloodshot, dazed. But they were his. That piercing, stormy blue. The eyes that had stared down the foulest of enemies, that so many times had looked at me like I was the only damn thing left in the world.

They found me.

"Hey," I breathed, tears spilling down my cheeks all over again. "Hey, you."

He blinked slowly, his pupils struggling to focus. His lips moved, but no sound came. I stroked his cheek and sobbed for the millionth time that day, the relief pouring out of me so hard it left me gasping.

"You're here," I whispered through the tears. "You didn't leave me."

His hand - the same one that had twitched - lifted just an inch, barely off where it rested, and fell against my thigh. I grasped it instantly, holding it to my chest, kissing his knuckles over and over. "You're gonna be okay," I promised him, brushing his blood-matted hair from his eyes. "You are. I've got you, baby. I'm so sorry... I love you. I love you so much.

He tried to say something. I leaned closer, and finally, he rasped the faintest whisper of a word against my neck:

"Ath..."

"I'm here," I choked out, curling myself around him again. "I'm right here."

He let out a faint sigh. Like even that whisper had taken everything he had, yet he was trying his damn hardest to speak again anyway.

"Merle..."

"I know." I tried to reassure him. "If he's alive, we'll find him. I promise."

His eyes fell closed again, exhausted, but this time, I knew he was still in there. I kissed him - his cheek, his forehead, his lips - and continued cradling him like he was something holy. Because he was. My husband. My Daryl.

My heart.

I felt Lydia shift beside me. When I glanced at her, she was crying too, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her jacket.

But she smiled.

It was small. Shy. But it was real.

Daryl was alive.

~

Apart from those brief moments he'd roused for - that flicker of consciousness passing through him like a breath of the wind, Daryl had been out right through the night. Not unconscious. Just asleep. That fact alone meant I could breathe again.

The sheer relief that pulsed through me each time I looked at him was almost as dizzying as the panic that had taken root in my chest hours ago. I'd only loosened my grip on him once, and only because my body wasn't giving me a choice. After the adrenaline had ebbed, the dull ache of exhaustion and human need kicked in, and I realized I was mere seconds away from peeing myself. Even after everything that had happened, I still didn't think my husband would appreciate waking up in a puddle of my own making.

But I couldn't leave him, couldn't bear the thought of him not being held even for a second, so I did the only thing I could - I shifted his weight, resting him carefully against Lydia, who cradled him with all the gentleness in the world while I stood just meters away, watching, guarding, peeing like a goddamn sentinel. There were bushes around, sure, but I didn't give a shit about modesty. I wasn't taking my eyes off him for a split second.

After some coaxing from me, Lydia finally relented and agreed to get some sleep, pulling her hoodie up around her face and drifting off almost instantly - drained not only physically but emotional and mentally too. I wasn't sleeping, though. No chance. Not until we were back at Alexandria.

I wanted him home, needed him there where I could keep him warm, keep him safe, get antibiotics into his system - but Alexandria was a long way from here. There was no chance in hell Lydia and I could carry him the whole way, so until he woke again, and we could somehow get him there, all I could do was keep watch, keep an eye on him, make sure his breathing stayed steady.

Now, hours later, the first light was breaking through the trees. Another sunrise. Another day. And I still had my husband. Battered, bloodied, but alive. I don't think I'd ever felt so grateful.

I glanced over at Lydia as she stirred.

"As soon as he wakes again," I whispered hoarsely, "we'll get moving. Get him home."

Lydia rubbed her eyes, nodding slowly, but I could tell the cogs were whirring. "Hilltop's closer."

She wasn't wrong, but the thought of our kids being without us any longer than they had to be made my stomach twist. Even knowing Hilltop was the smarter choice for antibiotics, something in me resisted. Alpha may be gone, but the Whisperers weren't. If they hadn't found her already, they would soon, and they'd be more than pissed.

"I know," I admitted. "It's just... Briar and Sawyer. You saw how frightened she was. She'll be worried."

"They'll loan us horses," Lydia offered gently. "Get antibiotics, get back on the road. Faster than going on foot."

I nodded. "Yeah. You're right. Okay."

Lydia stood to use the bathroom, disappearing into the trees.

And that was when Daryl blinked open his eyes again, just barely. His gaze was groggy and heavy-lidded, but there was clarity there, recognition. Me.

"Hey, you," I breathed, the words cracking under the weight of everything I felt.

His hand lifted slowly, searching for mine, and I caught it, pressing it to my cheek. His thumb brushed over my skin before he turned his face, pressing his lips to my arm - soft, dry, but so warm I nearly broke apart all over again.

"M'sorry," he murmured, his voice like gravel soaked in smoke.

"Shhh," I whispered, lifting my canteen to his lips. "Don't. I'm the one who should be sorry."

He sipped slowly, then winced as pain lanced through him. "How'd I get here?"

I smoothed his hair back from his forehead, studying him like I still couldn't quite believe he was real. "Lydia found you. We carried you. Baby, I thought I'd lost you."

He turned his face again, lips brushing my wrist this time, the gentlest vow I'd ever felt.

"Ain't never gonna leave ya."

My throat tightened so hard it hurt. But before I could say anything, his eyes sharpened just slightly, his brow knitting with intent.

"Ya finish it?" he asked.

I didn't have to ask what he meant.

My heart clenched. Lydia's eyes, right after I'd done it. Her silence. The finality. I swallowed, then nodded once.

"Yeah," I said quietly. "I finished it."

Daryl let out a breath - part relief, part something darker. He tried to sit and grunted through gritted teeth as the movement pulled at his wounds.

"Hey. Easy," I said quickly, trying to guide him back down. "Lydia's got something for the pain, and then-"

"We gotta go," he interrupted, dragging himself to his knees. His hand flew to the wound on his leg, and his expression faltered at the sight of how much blood stained the makeshift bandage and the denim around it.

"Daryl, just-"

"Gotta get back to the kids."

I caught him as he stumbled, even though he'd only made it to his knees. "They're at home," I said, my voice a tether I hoped he could cling to. "They're safe."

"Don't know that-" He paused, blinking down at my exposed old bra, his brow furrowed.

I let out a tired laugh. "Needed to stop the bleeding."

He stared at me for a beat, then shook his head, a faint smile cracking through his dirt-smudged face as he shrugged off his vest with a grunt, draping it over my shoulders. The weight of it on me, the way it smelled like him, was more comforting than I ever thought possible.

"Yur damn crazy."

Then he leaned forward and kissed me, just briefly - soft but sure, tasting of pain and desperation and the kind of love that makes the earth tilt. My heart gave a stutter, the kind that comes when something lost is suddenly found. The kiss lasted mere seconds, but it was everything. The weight of him there, the feel of his lips - I'd wondered if I'd ever get that again. Thought maybe my last kiss with him had already passed.

But here he was.

He pulled away and grunted, pushing himself to his feet, clearly ignoring the way his body was screaming at him. I stood too, hands steadying him as his eyes scanned around, looking for something he could brace himself with.

Lydia returned from the trees, carrying a long, thick branch like she'd read his mind. She extended it.

He took it with a small nod, not quite meeting her eyes. "Thanks."

She pulled the white willow bark she'd scavenged yesterday from her pocket. "This'll help with-"

"Ain't time," Daryl cut in. "They'll be comin'."

"It'll just take a few minutes," she tried again.

"Nah. We gotta go."

~

Daryl had been set on Alexandria at first, just like I had been. But once I explained - horses, speed, antibiotics - he relented. Just barely. But enough. The journey shouldn't have taken too long from where we were. Maybe a few hours. But despite Daryl bracing himself on that busted-up stick and dragging his leg as fast as he could, we were still moving slow. Slower than either of us liked.

We stopped just once. He didn't want to, but his whole body was shaking from the effort, and I was scared he'd collapse again. His body needed to rest.

"Ain't got time," he'd said, voice low, raw from exhaustion, resisting even as I reached for him. "They go to Alexandria, we gotta be there first."

"I know," I told him gently. "I know. But it's going to slow us down more if you end up unconscious again because you won't take five minutes." I smirked at him just a little then. "I'm not carrying you again."

He scoffed, faint but amused. "Five minutes."

We sat beneath a sloped, sun-bleached sign that used to advertise an old campground - half the letters gone, vines creeping up the rusted poles. The ground was dry, cracked, and scattered with weeds, but the overhang gave us a moment of shade. Daryl pulled me into his arms the second we dropped down. He was rigid, tension humming through every inch of him, but he reached for me all the same, pressed his lips to my hair hard.

"After," he said gruffly, squeezing my shoulder like an apology. "Gotta go back."

He didn't need to explain why.

Merle.

I swallowed the urge to argue. I didn't want him ever being out there again, not ever. But I just nodded and said the only thing that mattered. "I know. We both will."

I felt his breath stall in his chest. He nuzzled further into my hair, and I knew him well enough to know what was going on in that stubborn head of his. He wanted to say no. Tell me to stay back. Stay with the kids. Be safe. But he knew better now. That wasn't happening. Not ever again.

"I love ya," he breathed instead, soft and gravel-deep.

I closed my eyes. The sound of it warmed me even more than ever before. Just hours ago, I didn't know if I'd ever hear him say those words again. I pulled back so I could see his face. I needed to look into his eyes when I said it, needed to make up for not saying it before he left. For almost losing him without getting the chance.

"I love you." My hands cupped his face, his stubble scraping my palms. "I love you so much."

He crushed me to him again, another kiss to the crown of my head, even harder than before - like he was trying to press it into my skin, make it last.

Then, "Time's up," he rasped. "S'go."

Another couple hours and the fences of Hilltop finally came into view. My legs ached, every muscle in my body was screaming, but I didn't care. We'd made it. Daryl's face was white with pain, but he was still going, jaw clenched, eyes set forward.

"Gonna run ahead," Lydia said suddenly, starting to jog in front. "Get horses. Pills."

I nodded, swallowing my exhaustion. Every second spent at Hilltop would be another second longer until we made it home.

Daryl was trying to keep calm, but I could see it in the way he was leaning heavier on the stick now. He was pushing his body past its limit. Again.

The gates of Hilltop in the distance hadn't even finished closing behind Lydia when they swung open again.

Figures ran toward us, and both Daryl and I halted instinctively. Squinting. Assessing.

Maggie. Glenn. Tara. Jesus.

My heart lifted. Familiar faces. Family.

"The cavalry's coming," I half-chuckled. "Glenn's going to want to carry you."

But the smile died on my face just as quick.

Behind them... Aaron. Gabriel.

My stomach twisted hard. My mouth went dry.

Why were they here? At Hilltop?

Why weren't they at Alexandria?

Why weren't they with Briar and Sawyer?

Daryl's gut must've done the same flip as mine. He started forward again, dragging his leg but picking up pace, eyes locked ahead.

"S'goin' on!?" he barked across the distance. "Where are they!"

I couldn't speak. Panic had gripped me tight, cold, and rising like floodwater.

Gabriel held up a hand. "The children are safe!" he called out, seeing the fear on our faces, reading us like pages. "They're safe!"

But it didn't settle the terror pulsing inside me. It didn't ease the vice closing around my chest. Because if everything was fine... they wouldn't be here. Not all of them. Not together. Not like this.

Something was wrong.

Very, very wrong.

"Shit." Glenn blurted as he reached us, eyes going wide as they dropped to Daryl's leg, soaked in blood from thigh to boot.

"Lydia said it was bad," Jesus added, breathless as he caught up.

"S'goin' on!?" Daryl barked again, voice gravel-rough with pain and panic.

"Briar and Sawyer are fine," Maggie rushed to say, voice trembling slightly as she reached us. "They're here. They're safe."

Everything in me loosened a little, my knees wobbling with the release of tension. Our babies were safe. They were here.

I was about to speak when Aaron's voice cut through the relief like a blade.

"They got into Alexandria."

My stomach sank.

Whisperers.

"What!?" Daryl snapped, already moving forward again with a limp that made my chest ache.

"They knew already?" I asked, falling into step beside him, shock prickling under my skin as the others followed.

I'd only ended Alpha - what, a day and a half ago? Maybe less? It made no damn sense. How could it all have unraveled so fast? An attack and Alexandrians already made it to Hilltop?

"Knew what?" Gabriel asked from behind us.

"Alpha's gone," Daryl spat, like the name still left poison in his mouth.

"Gone?" Tara echoed, but the look on her face said she understood exactly what that meant.

Then another figure burst from the gates ahead of us, feet pounding the dirt like thunder.

Annie.

Shit.

Her face was twisted in anguish, streaked with dust and dried tears. "Did you find him!?" she cried out as she ran, voice cracking with desperation. "Did you find him!?"

None of us answered. We didn't have to. The silence spoke loud enough.

She slowed, eyes locked on Daryl, zeroing in like a heat-seeking missile.

"Please tell me you found him," she pleaded, stopping just in front of him. "Please."

Daryl dropped his head, jaw tightening. "Not yet. M'sorry."

I saw it land in her chest like a physical blow. Her eyes flicked to me, wide and shattered, before she turned back to Daryl again. Her lips parted, like she wanted to say something more, to ask for a different truth. But instead, she just threw herself around him.

The force of it nearly knocked him over. Daryl grunted, catching her weight with one arm while the other hovered awkwardly before settling gently on her back.

She clung to him for a second that felt like forever, then pulled away, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. Her chin lifted with effort, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm really glad you're okay."

Then she turned to me, and before I could even speak, she wrapped her arms around me in a fierce, breathless hug. I held her just as tight, my chest burning with guilt - for leaving without telling her what I suspected, for not preparing her, for everything.

"I'm sorry," I whispered into her hair. "I'm so sorry."

She nodded against my shoulder, then let go, turning toward Hilltop and starting to walk. No questions. No pause.

We followed Annie in silence, boots crunching through dirt, breath heavy with tension. Daryl's limp was more pronounced now, his jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle twitching beneath his stubble. But he wasn't stopping. Nothing would make him stop, not until he saw them with his own two eyes.

Of course we wanted answers. We wanted to know what happened back home, who made it, who didn't, how the hell it all went sideways so fast.

But none of it mattered in this moment. Not to either of us. All we wanted - all we cared about - was making sure Briar and Sawyer really were safe.

We barely made it two feet into Hilltop before I saw them just ahead with Lydia, who knelt beside Sawyer protectively with one hand across his chest.

They were waiting for us.

Briar's hair was wild and tangled, dirt smudged across her cheek like she'd been rolling in it. Her eyes were scanning the small crowd with that fierce little brow she got from her Daryl, and as soon as she spotted us, she bolted - legs flying beneath her, her curls wild in the wind.

"Daddy!"

Daryl didn't hesitate. His busted up leg barely holding him steady, but not even that could've stopped him from catching her in that moment. His arms opened wide just in time, and she flew straight into his chest like a bird returning to its roost.

"Hey, my lil badass," he whispered, pressing his face into her shoulder as he held her tight, breathing her in.

"C'mere, you," I murmured, scooping Sawyer up into my arms. I kissed his head over and over again as he giggled and wriggled like it was any other day.

The second I set him down, he took off for Daryl, who bent without even thinking, one arm still clutching Briar, the other catching Sawyer mid-run and lifting him against his side. It was a mess of limbs and dirt and blood, but it didn't matter. Not now. Not when we were all back together.

Briar slid down his chest and made a beeline for me. Her little arms wrapped around my waist as I crouched to meet her.

"You brought Daddy back," she whispered into my neck.

"Of course I did." I smiled, fingers brushing through her curls. "I promised you I would."

She squeezed me even tighter, her tiny frame trembling from all the emotion she hadn't known how to carry. Then she pulled back, eyes wide.

"Where's Uncle Merle?"

My heart stuttered. I looked to Daryl, not knowing how to answer. But he spoke before I had to.

"Ain't back yet," he told her gently. "But your Mom 'n' me are gonna get him soon."

He looked at me as he said it, and in that shared glance, an unspoken promise was solidified: We were going to bring Merle home. No matter what that looked like. Together.

Briar seemed satisfied with that, at least on the surface, then her face tightened. "The creepy mask people came."

My heart sank again. "I know, sweet girl. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry me and Daddy weren't there."

"It's okay. Sawyer was scared, but me and Judith and Gracie took care of him."

I smiled in a way that was half-genuine, half-forced. Every emotion whirring around my body in that moment. "That's because you're the best big sister." I told her, kissing her forehead.

She nodded her head, curls bouncing. "I kicked one."

I froze.

Daryl blinked. "Ya what?"

"I kicked one." She repeated louder and then beamed.

Words escaped both of us.

The moment was over.

It was time to find out what the fuck had happened.

~

It turned out that what had unfolded at Alexandria was far more terrifying than Daryl or I could've imagined.

Last night, while I was cradling Daryl in my arms, filled with relief that although badly hurt, he hadn't left me, one Whisperer, Beta - that giant, freaky as hell one that Daryl had thrown down that elevator shaft all that time ago, had crawled up through a tunnel under the fucking ground completely unnoticed. The theory is that he was looking for Gamma - the Whisperer Aaron had befriended, which explained why things had happened so fast. He wasn't there in retaliation to what I'd done to Alpha. It was already going to happen.

He slaughtered people in their homes - Graham and George, Marjorie, a group of new people I hadn't even had chance to learn the names of yet, others, and then apparently just waited there for them to turn before letting them loose on our streets.

Defences were low, a team had gone out to investigate a herd they'd been warned about over the radio (which turned out to be a trick to lure people away), Daryl and I weren't there, neither was Carol, neither was Michonne.

Alexandria was weakened.

Annie, Rosita, Gabriel, Aaron and Eric herded all the kids into Michonne's house, believing they were safe while they fought the was-residents-now-walkers, but what they didn't know was that Beta had slipped into that house somehow, having already slain Laura.

I had to clap my hand over my mouth when Gabriel told us that part, it was all I could do to stop myself from throwing up.

Briar, Sawyer and DJ, along with Alexandria's other children, had been alone in that house with Beta.

Anything could have happened to them - it almost did. He'd gone into the bedroom they were hiding in, Judith had shot at him, Gracie had thrown things.

Briar had fucking kicked him.

Rosita had heard Judith's gunshot and stormed into the house, but Beta got the better of her, he'd have killed her if Gamma hadn't appeared and somehow convinced him to stop.

I'd stopped listening by that point. All I could hear then was my heart pounding in my ears. I could feel Daryl's arm wrapped around me, steadying me despite the anger I could feel pulsating through him, but nothing could break my out of my spiral.

Alexandria had been attacked.

The kids were there alone.

They could so easily be gone.

Gabriel was apologetic, remorseful that the kids had ended up alone with that monster, but nobody blamed him, or any of the others. They did what they thought was the best way to keep them safe in a desperate situation. Nobody could have known they weren't alone in there.

Beta had escaped, and Gamma, or Mary as Aaron was now calling her, was here at Hilltop with what was left of Alexandria.

The panic that had already spread like wildfire was only exacerbated by the news of my finishing Alpha - the Whisperers would know that Alexandrians would flee here, to Hilltop, and we knew without a doubt that they were coming for revenge.

Now, everyone was fighting about what the hell we should do.

Lydia was adamant that we had to run. All of us. Said even if the explosion at the caves took out half the horde, there were still thousands of walkers left that would be sent. She was pale, her voice shaking as she spoke, but her conviction was clear. Enid and Alden agreed, arguing that we could rebuild somewhere else. That bricks and soil didn't mean anything if we were all dead.

Maggie and Glenn weren't having it, neither was Jesus - he said Hilltop had stood too long and meant too much to walk away from. Earl was in their corner, calm but stubborn, saying they'd never find another place like Hilltop. Tara stayed quiet, but I got the vibe she agreed.

Yumiko sat off to the side with Kelly, both of them bone-tired and half-broken from worry over Connie and Magna who were missing alongside Merle. Yumiko's fingers shook when she pushed hair behind her ear, her voice cracking uncharacteristically as she reminded us all how outnumbered we were.

She wasn't wrong.

It all blurred together after that. Voices rising, colliding. Fear dressed up as logic. Anger clashing with heartbreak. Plans made and immediately unravelled. All of it just noise.

Because the truth? We didn't have a plan.

And worse - we didn't have time.

They were coming. And our kids... our babies, the ones we'd only just made it back to - they were here. Right in the crossfire.

My lungs wouldn't fill properly. My hands trembled. My vision swam. Everything inside me just felt like it was short-circuiting.

Then, Daryl's voice cut through the noise like a knife. Low. Unshakable. Final.

"Gotta get the kids out. Ain't no debatin' it."

The room didn't argue. Not even Earl.

Just like that, we had at least the first step of a plan.

The children - all of them - would be taken to Oceanside. An old route we were confident the Whisperers didn't know about - the long way, but safe. We'd figure out the bigger picture after.

As people filed out of Barrington House to set things in motion, Daryl found my hand, and before he even opened his mouth, I shook my head. "No."

His jaw flexed. He nodded slowly, almost like it hurt. "I know," he said, voice barely audible. "But-"

"No." I repeated, even firmer this time. "I'm not going anywhere without you."

The idea of watching those carts disappear down the road with our babies in them... it was unbearable. But I'd just managed to keep him, to hold onto this life we'd fought tooth and nail for. I couldn't let go again. Not now. Not ever.

"We could both go," I whispered.

Daryl looked down. Rubbed a hand over his face like it'd suddenly aged him years. And then - something shifted. I saw it. For the first time ever, I saw him consider it. Walking away from the fight.

"Want to," he admitted, eyes low, his voice cracked open and raw.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, reaching for his hand and sighing. "...But you can't."

And honestly? I didn't think I could either.

It wasn't just Alpha who'd made life hell for us. It was all of them - the Whisperers. They hadn't just taken people - they'd taken time. Safety. Sleep. Every shred of peace we'd managed to find. They'd taken the look in Siddiq's eyes when he held Coco for the first time - because even in that joy, there was fear. There was the unspoken question for every single one of us of how long do we get to keep this?

If we ran now, they'd just come after us again. And again. And again.

There was no running.

Daryl pulled me back into his chest, strong arms wrapping around me, his face pressing into my hair like he could disappear there for just a second.

"Ain't gonna end," he murmured.

"I know," I breathed, exhausted and desperate and so damn scared.

But I held on tighter. And so did he, because we both knew that we didn't have a choice but to go to war.

Again.

A/N: A lot going on in this chapter. Really, it should have been broken into two, but I'm becoming hyper-aware that I'm hitting 3/4 of Wattpad's chapter limit - I feel like there's still sooo much of this story left to tell!

Thank you so much for reading! Your votes and comments really mean a lot! I appreciate every single one. ❤️