Chapter 22 - Ella

I sighed contentedly as I pressed a soft kiss to Daryl's bare chest, then pushed myself up to sit, stretching as I got dressed. I couldn't help but smile at the way he lazily turned his head to watch me.

"The hell are you doin'?" Daryl asked, his voice warm with teasing.

I shot him a sly grin. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather be dressed when your little captive wakes up." I winked. "You know, my husband's a pretty jealous guy. He'd definitely lose his cool if another man saw my tits."

Daryl chuckled, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth. He sat up and grabbed his pants, pulling them on with an exaggerated groan. "Yeah, I'd hate to have to go off on Jesus."

I couldn't help it—I burst out laughing. "Jesus? You're going to hunt down Jesus Christ?"

Daryl grinned, clearly pleased by my reaction, as he buttoned up his shirt. "No, no. Fucker calls himself Jesus." He jerked his thumb in the direction of the other room.

I snorted. "That's really stupid." I paused, finishing tying my boots. "Does he look like Jesus?"

Daryl shrugged nonchalantly, as if the comparison was the least important thing to him. "He's got long hair, and a beard."

I rolled my eyes playfully, finishing up with my laces. "Wow, babe. So descriptive."

He gave me a look that was half-amused, half-mocking. "What? He does."

I couldn't suppress a smile as I stood up, walking into the other room. The moment I stepped inside, though, my stomach dropped. The room was empty.

"Hey, babe?" I called back over my shoulder, trying to keep the panic from creeping into my voice.

"Yeah?" came Daryl's reply.

"How tight were those ropes you had on him?" I asked, half-joking, half-nervous.

"I dunno, Rick tied 'em," he replied without a second thought. Then he fell silent for a beat, clearly sensing something was wrong. "Why?"

I bit the inside of my cheek, turning toward Daryl with a sudden flush creeping up my neck. "He's gone."

"FUCK!" Daryl's voice was filled with pure frustration. He jumped to his feet in one swift motion, yanking his gun from its holster and flipping the safety off in a single, practiced movement. "Let's go find him."

When it became clear Jesus wasn't at the house, we decided to head to the infirmary. We found Denise there, but she hadn't seen him either. A bit frustrated, we made our way back to the empty house, but not before Denise rounded up Abraham, Glenn, and Maggie.

"Where the hell else could he have gone?" I asked, throwing my hands up in exasperation.

"The armory, the pantry—let's check there," Glenn said, his tone pragmatic, already moving toward the door. And with that, we were off again, like a well-oiled machine on a hunt.

The armory was undisturbed—guns all accounted for. Same deal with the pantry, every can and box exactly where it should be. That only left one place: Rick's house.

As the first light of morning began to creep over the horizon, painting the sky in soft oranges and pinks, we sprinted toward Rick's place. We burst through the door without knocking, not really caring about the proper social niceties at this point, and there, standing in the hallway like he didn't have a care in the world, was Rick. Shirtless.

Michonne, still adjusting her clothes, shot us a quick glance as she straightened herself up, but Rick just stood there, a smug grin playing on his lips.

"You said you wanted to talk," Rick said with a casual shrug. "So, let's talk."

Jesus, standing on the stairs beneath Rick, nodded in agreement, his expression somehow both amused and resigned. The rest of us just stared at him for a moment, and I made my way over to the table, sitting down with a huff. Daryl, on the other hand, couldn't keep still, pacing back and forth with an intense glare fixed on Jesus.

"So..." I said, breaking the silence, "I'm assuming you call yourself Jesus because of the hair and the beard, right?"

Jesus gave a little nod, his eyes glinting with humor. "Yeah, my real name's Paul," he said. I flinched at the name but Daryl's hand landed on my shoulder, offering a comforting squeeze. "But all my friends from before started calling me Jesus, and it just... stuck."

I gave Daryl a brief, reassuring look before I patted his hand. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

Jesus seemed to notice the dynamic between Daryl and me and, with a sly grin, raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing you two are together?" he asked, his gaze darting between us. "I mean, I'd hope so, with what I heard."

Daryl's eyes narrowed, a low growl escaping him. "Keep your fuckin' mouth shut," he warned.

Jesus's smirk deepened, and before I could say another word, Rick's voice broke through the tension, his footsteps descending the stairs behind us.

"So, that's why he got out?" Rick's voice carried across the room, and I couldn't help but notice the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he casually took a seat at the head of the table, right beside Jesus.

"How about we focus on this slimy fuck poking his nose into places it shouldn't be," Daryl snapped, his voice hard with irritation, "and not on my sex life?"

I watched the group all hold in laughter, even myself, but then the mood shifted as Rick turned his gaze to Jesus.

"So how'd you get out?" Rick asked.

Jesus glanced at Daryl and I. "Well, I think we just went over that."

"Did you use the front door, jump out a window?" I asked, steering the conversation back on track.

"Well, one guard can't cover two exits. Knots untie, locks get picked. Entropy comes from order right?" Jesus shrugged his shoulders, oddly calm in a room full of people that could kill him at a moment's notice.

"Right," Daryl nodded, his hand still clamped onto my shoulder.

"I checked out your arsenal. I haven't seen anything like that in a long time." Jesus nodded his head, leaning back in his seat. "You're well equipped, but your food supply is running low. Very low for the amount of people you have. Fifty four?"

"More than that." Maggie said, arms crossed over her chest. She looked bad. I would need to check on her. The news had spread quickly that Maggie and Glenn were going to have a baby, and from the looks of it, morning sickness was taking it's toll. I had been sick as dog with both Ruby and Ian.

"Well I appreciate the cookie." Jesus said, looking down at his hands. "My compliments to the chef."

"Yeah, she ain't here." Daryl snapped. He was getting more defensive by the second.

"Look," Jesus turned in his chair to face Daryl. "We got off to a bad start. But we're on the same side, the living side. You and Rick had every reason to leave me out there, but you didn't."

"Yeah, startin' to regret that right about now." Daryl muttered under his breath. I smacked his hand again. He flinched, but didn't remove his hand.

"I'm from a place a lot like this one," Jesus continued. "Part of my job is searching for other settlements to trade with." He sighed as he looked at Rick. "I took the truck because my community needs things. And to be honest, you two look like trouble. I was wrong." Jesus's gaze swept over all of us gathered. "You're good people. This is a good place. I think our communities may be in a position to help each other."

"How?" I asked. "Do you have food?"

Jesus nodded. "We've started raising livestock. We scavenge and grow. Everything from tomatoes to sorghum."

"Why should we believe you?" Rick asked.

"I can show you." Jesus said, laying his hands flat on the table. "We can take a car, I can take you back home in a day. Then you can all see for yourselves who we are and what we have to offer."

"Wait," Maggie said, leaning into the conversation. "You said you're out here looking for more settlements. Does that mean that you are already trading with other groups?"

Jesus finally smiled, a wide, toothy grin as he looked at all of us again. "Your world is about to get a whole lot bigger."

Everyone all gathered their things and got ready to leave. Daryl pulled the RV up to the front of Rick's house, popping the hood to check the engine and tune everything up. I sat in the grass, watching as Carl brought the kids to me after they woke up. Ruby was in my arms, and Ian, full of energy, stood beside Daryl, his little face scrunched in curiosity as he tried to peek at every little thing his dad did.

"Ian," I called, trying to sound stern. "Keep your hands off that stuff. I don't want you covered in grease."

Ian pouted, glancing up at Daryl with big, hopeful eyes. "I just wanna see what you're doin', Dad."

Daryl smirked, clearly entertained by Ian's enthusiasm. "C'mon, little man," he said, reaching for him with his greasy hands.

"No!" I shouted, louder than I meant to, causing both of them to freeze mid-motion. "Do not put your greasy hands on him, Daryl! I'll never get those stains out. Then I'll have to chase him around with a bath, all while you're off exploring some other part of the world!"

Daryl, always one to take a challenge head-on, grinned widely, as if my warning only made him more determined. He pulled his hands away from the engine and turned his full attention on me, the oil and grime from the RV making him look like he'd just crawled out of a mechanic's nightmare.

"Well, that would be a real shame, wouldn't it?" he teased, taking a deliberate step toward me, his expression playful.

"Daryl, don't you dare," I warned, though a smile tugged at the corner of my lips. It was hard to stay serious with him looking at me like that.

He closed the distance, his steps slow and calculated. "What're you gonna do about it, sweetheart?"

I narrowed my eyes playfully and clutched Ruby a little tighter to my chest, raising an eyebrow at him. "I'm warning you, Dixon. If you value your life, you won't do it."

He smirked, his voice deepening in a teasing growl as he lunged forward, tackling me into the grass. His hands, still covered in grease, swiped down my arms and over my pants. "Oh shit, look at that. I'm so sorry," he said in mock horror, while reaching out to grab Ian by the arm and yank him into the mess too.

Ian's face and clothes were immediately covered in grease, and I couldn't help but burst into laughter at the sight. Daryl laughed too, his carefree, joyful sound echoing through the yard, and I couldn't stop smiling. There was something about his laughter, so light and full of life, that made my heart swell. At moments like this, it was so easy to fall deeper in love with him—more than when he was protective, more than when he was possessive. I loved seeing him so genuinely happy, so free.

When Ian's giggles finally matched his father's, Daryl looked up at me, grinning like a mischievous boy, and flicked my nose with his grease-streaked finger. He then gripped my chin and pulled me in for a sweet kiss, despite the mess.

He leaned back with a dramatic sigh, still grinning. "Looks like I'm stuck here helping you bathe the heathens," he said happily as he pushed himself off the grass.

I chuckled, sitting up and adjusting Ruby in my lap. "You're not staying," I giggled, shaking my head.

"Says who?" Daryl asked with a smirk, clearly enjoying this moment too much.

"You wanted to go, so you're going." I gave him a playful shove. I laughed, my heart warm with love and amusement, as I watched him, fully content in his element.

Daryl worked in silence for a few more minutes, his focus entirely on the engine, hands greasy as he fiddled with the parts. The quiet was comfortable, though a little lonely. That was until Denise strolled down the street, the morning sun casting a warm glow on her. She had a small package in her hands, and as she neared, she slowed her pace and stopped beside Daryl.

"Here," she said, holding the package out to him.

Daryl paused, glancing up at her. His eyes scanned the plastic baggie she offered.

"It's a homemade oatcake," she explained, "Complex carbs, omega-3s. Should help keep you going."

Daryl smirked, his hands still in the engine bay, as he shook his head. "Nah, I'm good," he replied casually. He jerked his chin toward me and the kids, who were sitting a little ways off. "I'll stay back with the wife and kids. She can make me something to eat. Right, baby?"

I rolled my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest. "I'm not making you anything, Dixon. You smothered me and the kids in grease earlier, remember?"

Daryl chuckled, a soft, knowing laugh. Denise tried again, holding the oatcake out toward him. "Please take it," she insisted, her smile warm and genuine.

Daryl stood up to his full height, towering over Denise as he looked down at her. "Is this because I tried to get you that stuff?" he asked, eyebrow raised, genuinely curious.

Denise nodded, her smile growing. "Yeah, and... you kind of remind me of someone I used to know."

Daryl gave a quiet grunt, pulling his handkerchief from his back pocket to wipe his hands roughly, before taking the oatcake from her and shoving it into his jacket pocket.

"Well, hope it tastes better than it looks," he said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes again, my patience running thin as I pushed myself up off the ground. "What he means to say," I began, shoving Daryl aside with a playful nudge, "is 'thank you so much, Denise. I really appreciate the time and effort you spent making me this delicious treat.' Sorry, he's an asshole."

Daryl rolled his eyes and slammed the hood of the RV down, then strolled over to Ian, effortlessly hoisting him up onto his shoulders. Ian giggled, placing his hands on top of Daryl's head for balance as they shared a quiet moment of laughter.

Daryl leaned against the side of the RV, watching everyone gear up for the day. Rick walked up and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Let's load up," Rick said, his voice calm but carrying an edge of authority.

"Nah," Daryl replied, tightening his grip on Ian's legs as he adjusted him on his shoulders. "I'm staying behind with Ella and the kids."

Rick nodded, looking at me with a quiet understanding. "Watch out for Carl?" he asked, his tone casual but with that undercurrent of concern.

I nodded back, meeting Rick's eyes. "Got it," I replied, my voice firm. He gave a quick nod before heading inside the RV and shutting the door behind him.

I shifted Ruby higher on my hip as I turned toward Daryl. He slipped his hand into mine, and the simple touch made my heart settle. He smiled at me, his expression softening.

"Let's get these little critters home and into the bath," he said, his voice warm and affectionate.

We walked around the RV, catching up with Carl as he strolled ahead, pulling Judith along with him. The three of us, along with the kids, made our way down the road, heading back to the safety of home. Daryl's presence beside me made everything feel just a little bit easier, and as always, having the kids near only added to the warmth of the moment.

Once Ian, Daryl, and I were clean, I set to work making lunch for everyone. I leaned into the fridge, my brow furrowed as I skimmed the contents. My thoughts bounced between trying to come up with something creative and wondering what Daryl would like. I wasn't sure how long I had been standing there when Daryl's hands found their way to my waist, his warm touch sending a shiver through me.

"I'm starved here, woman," he said, his voice playful yet impatient. "You gonna keep lookin' at the food, or are you gonna start makin' it?"

I whirled around in his arms, lightly smacking his arm. "You better quit treating me like some fifties housewife," I teased, smirking up at him. "Or else I'll make good on my threat and stop feeding you for real."

Daryl chuckled, the sound low and rich, as he grabbed me by the waist and effortlessly placed me on the kitchen island. His strong hands pried my legs apart, and before I knew it, he was standing between them, pressing his chest to mine.

"Thought you liked when I tell you what to do?" he asked, his voice dropping into a gravelly, teasing tone.

I arched an eyebrow, my lips curling into a mischievous grin. "I only like that in one place, and the kitchen isn't it." My hands slid up his bare chest, still damp from his shower, my fingers grazing over the faint trail of hair that led down.

"But it could be," Daryl smirked, dipping his head to kiss my neck softly. I giggled, feeling the tickle of his facial hair against my skin as his kisses trailed lower, then back up the other side of my neck.

"Daryl," I giggled again, unable to contain my smile. "It's been maybe three hours. I think you'll be fine."

He grunted softly, pulling me closer, settling me on the edge of the island. His hands slid up my back, fingers finding purchase in my hair and tilting my head to give him more access. I sighed softly as his lips worked over my jaw, up to my cheek, and finally to my lips.

He kissed me with urgency, his lips hungry and needy against mine, sending sparks through my body. His tongue brushed against my bottom lip, and without hesitation, my lips parted, letting him deepen the kiss. Every sensation felt magnified in the moment—his warmth, the softness of his lips, the way his presence seemed to swallow me whole.

Just as the kiss deepened, a loud, unimpressed voice cut through the air.

"Ew," Carl said, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. "Really?"

I pulled back from Daryl, stifling my laughter as I glanced toward Carl, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs, Judith in his arms. Daryl's arms remained firmly around my waist, keeping me close.

"Hey," I said, turning to face Carl. "We're married. We're allowed to kiss and stuff."

Carl rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he strolled toward the living room. "You're too old to be making out."

Daryl rolled his eyes, turning to the cabinets to pull out what we'd need for lunch. As I moved toward the living room, I playfully smacked Daryl's ass. I plopped down on the couch next to Carl, stretching my legs out and resting them on his lap.

"For your information, I'm only twenty-seven," I said, smiling at Carl. "I'm still plenty young."

Carl sighed, clearly unimpressed, and I reached down to scoop Judith into my lap, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Yeah, but he's not," Carl said, smirking devilishly. "He's ancient."

I snickered and kissed Judith's cheek again. "Not gonna argue that."

"Screw you both!" Daryl called from the kitchen, a smile in his voice even as he grumbled.

Carl and I laughed together, the sound of our shared joy filling the room. Judith babbled happily in my lap, her little hands reaching for me as I played with her. Even though she wasn't biologically mine, the love I felt for her was no different than if she were. I loved her as if she were my own, just like I loved Carl. Despite the complicated dynamics of the world we now lived in, I found peace in moments like these, surrounded by children I cared for deeply.

Rick was a lucky man, I thought. Two wonderful kids, both so full of life and promise. Carl watched me closely as I tickled Judith, playfully pretending to bite her tiny toes, making her burst into giggles. She was a little over ten months older than Ruby and was already walking and starting to form simple words. As I smiled down at her, I couldn't help but admire how quickly she was growing.

But then, as I looked at her more intently, something nagged at the back of my mind. Judith's features—her hair, her eyes, her nose—none of them looked like Rick's. And it wasn't just a little difference; it was more pronounced as the days went on.

Her eyes, for one, were darker than Rick's—almost brown, a deep hazel that was striking in its intensity. They didn't have that same warm, blue hue that Rick's did. And her hair... It wasn't wavy or curly like Rick's or Lori's. Instead, it was straight, with a lighter color that didn't match the dark tones of her parents. My fingers unconsciously brushed through her hair, and I found myself studying her face even more, trying to piece it all together.

It wasn't just the color of her hair or eyes. There was something else. Judith's nose was subtly different from Carl's, slightly more delicate in shape. As I studied her more, I felt the realization settle in like a weight in my stomach.

She didn't look like Rick. Not at all. But there was someone else she resembled. Someone I had known, someone I had hated. The resemblance was undeniable, and my heart sank at the thought.

Shane.

It was like a slow, painful revelation that hit me all at once. Judith didn't share the same features as Rick. She had the same dark eyes, the same strong, sharp features that were unmistakably Shane's. And yet here she was, perched on my lap, unaware of the history that lingered in the air around her.

I pushed the unsettling thought aside, unwilling to let it taint the love I had for this sweet little girl. I smiled at Judith, trying to push away the dark thoughts that threatened to cloud the moment. I gently placed her on the floor, watching as she toddled over to the scattered toys in the living room, completely absorbed in her world.

Carl, however, was still watching me, his gaze distant. He sat with my legs in his lap, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. I nudged him gently with my foot, wanting to bring him back into the moment.

"Hey," I said softly, trying to get his attention.

Carl blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, and met my eyes. I gave him a small smile, but he just looked at me, a distant sadness in his eyes.

"What's on your mind, kiddo?" I asked gently, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.

He hesitated for a moment, looking down at Judith as she played. Then, quietly, he spoke.

"I don't know," he muttered.

"Why didn't you go with your dad?" I asked gently, watching Carl as he sat across from me.

Carl shrugged, avoiding my gaze. "Wanted to stay with Judith."

I raised an eyebrow at him, nudging him with my foot playfully. "Liar. Why didn't you want to go? You're always chomping at the bit to go out with the group."

His expression faltered, and I saw his shoulders slump, a quiet sadness sweeping across his face. He swallowed hard, his eyes drifting to the floor. The weight of whatever was bothering him settled heavily in the air, and I felt it, too.

I sat up, pulling my legs from his lap, and scooted closer to him. Without a word, I wrapped an arm around him, drawing him into a tight hug. His body stiffened for a second, but then he melted into me, letting out a quiet, shaky breath. "Hey," I whispered softly, brushing my cheek against his hair. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

Carl didn't answer right away. Instead, his eyes stayed fixed on the floor, the silence stretching between us like a thick, unspoken weight. I could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles remained tight, unwilling to let go. I gently cupped his chin and turned his face toward mine, holding him there as I searched his eyes. "What's going on, Carl?"

He hesitated, his shoulders rising and falling as he exhaled a deep, shaky breath. "I just figured that the kid without an eye would scare people," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

I felt my heart ache for him. I pulled him closer, wrapping both arms around him, letting my warmth seep into him as I held him tightly. My hand moved up his back in soothing circles. "Carl," I whispered, my voice tender, "there's nothing wrong with you, you know that, right?" I pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, my hands cupping his face as I stared deeply into him. "What happened to you was a horrible accident, but it doesn't make you scary. It doesn't make you any less handsome. You're still you—just minus an eye."

Carl didn't meet my gaze. His eyes stayed fixed on the floor, his fingers nervously tugging at the hem of his shirt. I could feel his discomfort, his insecurity, and it broke my heart to see him like this.

"Hey," I whispered, gently coaxing him, "look at me."

Carl shook his head, and I could see the tremor in his lips. His remaining eye shimmered with unshed tears, the vibrant blue of it standing out against his pale skin. The sight made my chest tighten, the raw vulnerability he was showing cutting through me.

"Carl," I said softly but firmly, wiping away the unshed tears from the corner of his eye with the back of my hand. "Don't you dare think for one second that anyone here thinks less of you for what happened. You are perfect, just the way you are. If it hadn't been your eye, you would've been dead. And I don't know about you," I said, my voice thick with emotion, "but I'd much rather have you missing an eye than to have to live the rest of my life without you."

His breath caught in his throat, and the tears he had been fighting finally fell, streaming down his cheek. The sight of his tears made my heart break, but it also filled me with a fierce need to protect him, to reassure him that he was loved, no matter what. He leaned into my hands, seeking the comfort I offered, his shoulders shaking as he allowed himself to cry.

From the kitchen, Daryl's gaze met mine, his eyes soft with understanding. He nodded slowly, a quiet, sad smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"I told my dad the same thing," Carl whispered, his voice barely above a tremor. "He didn't say anything."

I pulled back slightly, my hands still gripping his shoulders as I searched his face for any sign of what he was feeling. "What do you mean?" I asked softly, my heart aching for him.

Carl wiped at his eye, the tears now falling slower, but still enough to break my heart. "I told him I didn't want to go because my messed-up face would probably scare the people at Jesus's community." He paused, looking down at his hands, his voice small. "And he didn't say anything."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Rage built in my chest, hot and fierce. How could a father—his father—look at his son, knowing the pain and insecurity he was feeling, and not try to reassure him, try to make it better? How could Rick let Carl believe that his appearance was what mattered? That it defined him? I was drowning in a mix of disappointment, anger, and a deep sorrow for Carl that I couldn't even put into words.

I squeezed Carl's shoulders tighter, needing to ground him, needing to show him how much he meant to me. "Well, your dad fucked up," I said, my voice hard with the anger I felt on his behalf. "He should have told you exactly what I'm telling you now. You are perfect, Carl. Don't you ever think otherwise. And I'm just so damn grateful that you're still here with us."

I slid my hand back up to his cheek, my thumb brushing over the wet tracks left by his tears. He didn't pull away. He didn't flinch. He let me hold him, and I took the opportunity to wipe away his sorrow. "You hear me?" I whispered.

Carl nodded, the corners of his lips turning up just slightly. "Yeah," he whispered back.

"And," I added, the softness in my voice returning, "now you get to look even more badass once we get you an eye patch. You'll be the most intimidating guy at that community. Trust me."

Carl's chuckle was hesitant at first, but it grew more genuine, the sound like music to my ears. "It'll make playing pirates with the kids a hell of a lot easier."

"See? Not all bad," I said, feeling lighter with the shift in his mood. "We'll get you a spyglass and you'll be a swashbuckler in no time." I stood up from the couch, brushing off the last of my own frustration, and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I love you, kid."

"I love you too, Ellie," Carl replied, his voice steady now, his smile reaching his eyes for the first time in a while.

I walked over to the kitchen, where Daryl was dishing up lunch. I wrapped my arms around him from behind, needing the comfort of his presence. His strong, steady hands. The quiet understanding he always offered.

"I'm going to have a word with Rick when he gets back," I whispered, the anger still simmering just beneath the surface. "He fucked that up royally. And I'm going to give him a piece of my goddamn mind."

Daryl's sigh was soft but full of understanding. "Yeah, definitely not his best moment."

"You can say that again," I muttered, shaking my head. I kissed Daryl's back lightly before pulling away to get Ian and Ruby for lunch. The weight of the conversation with Carl was still heavy in my chest, but I knew one thing for sure—I would do whatever it took to make sure Carl never felt that way again. No one would make him doubt himself, not if I had anything to say about it.