Chapter 23 - Daryl

"You sure about this?" I asked, a teasing smirk tugging at my lips as I watched my wife. Ella turned her glare on me, practically radiating fury.

"Yes, Daryl, I'm sure," she snapped, her voice sharp. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself, holding Ruby on my hip as we made our way down the street. Rick and the others had just returned from Jesus's community, and Ella was determined to give Rick a piece of her mind—specifically about not stepping up for Carl. She was furious that Rick hadn't eased Carl's insecurities about his missing eye, and in her mind, that was absolutely unacceptable.

I walked behind her, content to watch the storm that was about to unfold. I had seen Ella angry plenty of times before, but there was something about the way she walked, her pace quickening the moment she locked eyes on Rick, that made me smile. She was relentless when it came to protecting the people she cared about, and Carl was no exception.

Her little fists were clenched at her sides, her shoulders tense. "Rick!" Ella shouted, her voice carrying down the street.

I watched as everyone froze, their heads slowly turning toward her. Glenn and Maggie exchanged amused glances, smirking as they exchanged silent thoughts. Michonne's eyes widened slightly, and Jesus, well, Jesus just looked confused as hell. I sighed, knowing exactly what was coming. Rick's eyes widened, his hands instinctively going up in surrender.

Everyone who knew Ella was well aware of the force that was about to descend on Rick. Not everyone could handle the full blast of her wrath, but Rick was a man who had learned the hard way over the years that when she was like this, he might as well get it over with.

"I didn't do it," Rick chuckled nervously, trying to lighten the mood, but I could see how quickly the tension was creeping up on him.

Ella wasn't having any of it. "I'll give you a choice," she said, her eyes blazing with that fierce fire. "You can come inside the house and talk, or I'll drag you."

Rick huffed another laugh, glancing up at me for some sort of backup. I just shook my head slowly, a smile tugging at my lips. I had learned long ago that when Ella made up her mind, it was best to let her handle it. Rick glanced down at the tiny powerhouse in front of him and shrugged, clearly deciding it would be easier to try and talk it out than face her wrath for too long.

"We can talk out here," Rick said, muttering under his breath, "Where there's witnesses."

Before he knew what was happening, Ella's hand shot out like lightning, and she grabbed a fistful of Rick's hair. She tugged him backward, and Rick's face twisted in surprise, his free hand coming up as if he might fight it, but he didn't. He just let her drag him along, clearly outmatched.

"Jesus Christ, Ella!" Rick shouted, his voice filled with equal parts frustration and amusement.

The others couldn't contain their laughter. Glenn and Maggie snickered quietly, while Michonne's eyes darted from Rick to Ella in disbelief. Jesus and the other guy stood frozen, their jaws hanging slightly as they watched Ella, this small but fierce woman, drag a grown man by the hair without a second thought. And Rick? He didn't fight back. Not once.

"You gonna follow?" Ella asked, her tone stern, as she gave Rick's hair another sharp yank for emphasis. "Or do I have to keep dragging?"

"I'm coming!" Rick gritted through clenched teeth, a mixture of annoyance and amusement coloring his words.

Finally, Ella released his hair, and Rick, still muttering to himself, trailed behind her like a reluctant child. I followed the pair, chuckling under my breath as I bounced Ruby gently on my hip. No one dared interrupt; they all knew better than to get in the way when Ella was on a mission.

As we walked inside Rick's house, I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for my wife. Even Rick, who was a force in his own right, respected her determination. And damn, did I love seeing her like this—strong, unapologetic, and unafraid to fight for what was right, even if it meant dragging Rick across the yard by the hair.

If anyone ever doubted her, they sure as hell knew better now.

Ella stood rigid, her finger pointing directly at Rick as she glared at him with a fire in her eyes that could scorch anything in its path.

"What—" Rick started to speak, but Ella cut him off with a snap.

"Shut up," she growled, her voice low but full of command. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

Rick blinked at her in confusion, his brow furrowing. "What?"

"I said," she repeated slowly, her eyes narrowing, "What the hell is the matter with you?"

Rick opened his mouth to speak again, but Ella wasn't done.

"Nope! I'm still talking." Her voice was ice-cold now, her steps deliberate as she paced the length of the living room, a storm in every movement. "See, you asked me to watch Carl and Judith, which I have no problem with. You know I love those kids like they're my own. But," she paused, her hands swinging out in frustration. "Do you know what I do not love, Rick? When I have to comfort your son because you royally fucked up as a parent! That's what I don't love!"

Rick's face drained of color, the weight of Ella's words settling in. His lips parted, but no words came out as he stared at her.

"I don't love it when a fourteen-year-old boy cries on my shoulder, telling me he feels like a freak, that he's scary because he has a missing eye," she continued, her voice cracking with raw emotion. "I don't love hearing that he shared those concerns with his father. And what did you say to him, Rick?" Ella stopped pacing and planted herself firmly in front of him, her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing with fury. If looks could kill, Rick would have been reduced to ash.

Rick didn't say a word, unsure if she actually wanted an answer, or if this was just another rhetorical question. Ella stared at him, her foot tapping the floor impatiently, waiting for him to respond.

"This is about what he said before we left, huh?" Rick finally ventured, his voice weak.

Ella's chest heaved in frustration. "Wow," she scoffed, the sound humorless. "Parent of the year right here." She threw her hands up. "Yes, this is about what you didn't say! Because you didn't say a damn thing to him, did you?" Her voice rose, thick with hurt. "I get it, Rick. You're doing this alone, raising teenagers isn't easy. Hell, I get it's hard to see Carl as a kid anymore—he's grown, mature, and hell, deadly when he needs to be. But Rick, goddammit, he's still just a kid! You didn't think to say anything when he told you he thought his face would scare Jesus's people? Really?"

Rick let out a deep sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as if trying to block out the weight of her words. "I just... I don't know. He was so set on saying it, and I thought if I pushed him, it would just make it worse."

Ella's jaw clenched, and her fists tightened by her sides as she shouted, "It's not about pushing him to go! It's about you telling him that he is not a freak, that his eye doesn't change how perfect he is! That's your job as his father!" She took a deep breath, her tone softening slightly, but her anger still simmering. "You need to tell him that he's still the boy you've always seen him as, Rick. He needs to hear it from you."

Rick sighed heavily again, sinking deeper into the couch, clearly defeated. His shoulders slumped, as though the weight of what he had failed to do had settled on them like a burden too heavy to bear.

Ella stood there for a moment, her heart still racing, the anger not quite gone, but tempered with the fierce love she had for Carl. She crossed the room and knelt in front of him, her voice quieter but no less passionate. "Carl looks up to you, Rick. He's a kid who's been through hell, and he needs to know you've got his back. Not just with the physical stuff, but with the emotional stuff too. He needs his dad to be his rock, to remind him that he's not broken, he's just different—and that's okay."

Rick's eyes met hers, guilt and regret swimming in his gaze. He had no excuse, not when Ella, the person he trusted most in this world with his kids, was looking at him with such raw emotion. She wasn't just angry; she was heartbroken for Carl, and that hurt Rick more than anything else could.

"What would Lori have said to him?" Ella's voice, though still tinged with anger, softened as she spoke. Her words hung in the air, heavy with emotion.

Rick looked up at that, a shadow passing over his face. The mention of Lori hit him harder than he expected. He sighed deeply, rubbing his hands over his face before he spoke.

"Lori..." His voice cracked, a brief pause hanging between us. "Lori would've told him there's nothing wrong with him. She would've said that even if he only had one eye, it didn't change how beautiful he was. That he was still the same Carl—her Carl—and nothing could change that. She would've reminded him that losing an eye doesn't change who he is, not at all."

Ella crouched down in front of Rick, her eyes softening as she gently took his hands in hers. The fire in her had cooled, but her determination to see Carl understood and loved was still there, strong as ever.

"You're lucky he opened up to me," Ella said, her voice steady but thick with the weight of the words. "I love that kid. I told him exactly what you just said. But next time, do better. He needs you, Rick. You can't just pick and choose when to be a father and when to be the leader of the group. You need to do both. And if you don't, I'll drag you by your hair again. Got it?"

Rick looked at her, a mixture of guilt and understanding crossing his face. He nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly as he pushed himself to stand. Without a word, he turned and walked toward the RV, the weight of his failure and his promise to do better settling heavily on him.

I smirked at Ella, watching her stand there, her anger slowly simmering down, replaced by a quiet sense of accomplishment. She looked up at me, her cheeks flushed from the intensity of the conversation.

"Was that too much?" she asked, her voice unsure for the first time.

I shook my head, still grinning. "Nah, he needed a kick in the ass."

Ella smiled softly, her eyes flicking over to where Ruby was fussing in my arms. She reached out, brushing a hand over our daughter's wild curls, her smile softening as she did so.

"He can't just pick when to be a parent and when to be the leader of the group," she continued, her tone firm and resolute. "He has to do both. Carl needs him. The group needs him. He can't keep letting his role as a leader overshadow his role as a father."

I nodded in agreement, my smile growing. "Couldn't agree more, darlin'." I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, tasting the softness of her anger fading away. "Now, let's go see what they brought back."

Ella smiled warmly, her features softening as she slipped Ruby from my arms and into hers, cradling our daughter gently against her chest. She murmured sweetly to Ruby as we walked out of Rick's house, the light of the setting sun casting a warm glow over us. I walked ahead to help the others unload everything they'd brought back, feeling a sense of peace settle over me. With Ella at my side, we could face whatever came next—together.

Rick called the meeting at the church, and the way he said it—his tone serious, almost urgent—made my stomach tighten. It was a look I knew all too well. Something was coming, something big. I could feel it in my bones, a sense of dread creeping into my chest. Carl watched Ian while Ella and I took Ruby with us to the meeting, and I could tell she was just as anxious as I was. We didn't know what we were about to hear, but I sure as hell wasn't expecting anything good.

Once everyone had gathered, Rick dove right into it. The details hit hard, one after the other, as he explained what Jesus had told us about the Hilltop community. I couldn't help but let my mind wander for a second, thinking about how strange it was that we were relying on a guy like Jesus, someone who seemed to have all the answers about these other groups we hadn't even heard of until recently. His description of The Hilltop, though—living history museum turned fortified community, with trailers scavenged from FEMA survivors, crops, livestock, and enough food to trade—sounded almost too good to be true. But I knew better than to let my guard down too easily.

Jesus spoke about how The Hilltop had been forced to give half of everything to a group called The Saviors. And from what Rick was saying, these Saviors weren't just some small-time threat—they were a damn menace. This Negan guy, their leader, sounded like a monster. They took from The Hilltop, demanding more and more with each visit, and if they didn't get it, they'd attack. It was a twisted kind of protection racket. The only thing keeping them alive was fear, and that didn't sit right with me. Not one bit.

As Rick laid out the details of the plan to deal with The Saviors, I felt my jaw clench. The part where he mentioned that those assholes—Sasha, Abraham, Ella, and I—had nearly been killed by The Saviors when we were leading that massive herd away? That part hit harder than I expected. They were still out there, still a threat to us all. We'd gotten lucky, sure, but luck doesn't last forever.

Rick's words sunk in deep. "Sooner or later, they would've stumbled across us too," he said. And as he spoke, I couldn't help but think about how close we'd been to losing everything. The Saviors weren't just some distant threat anymore—they were coming for us, and we needed to act fast. I pulled Ella closer to me, burying my face in her hair, trying to block out the rising tension in the room. Her scent, the warmth of her, was the only thing that kept me grounded. It reminded me that we still had something to fight for, even if it felt like the world was closing in around us.

Rick continued, his voice steady, but his eyes—his eyes were filled with the weight of the situation. He wasn't just talking about survival anymore. He was talking about a fight for our lives. "They'd have killed us," Rick said, his words cutting through the room. "And then they'd try to make us submit."

The words hit me harder than I wanted to admit. I'd seen it in my own life—people like The Saviors, people who think they can take what they want without any consequences. I had no intention of letting that happen to us.

Rick stepped forward, looking each of us in the eyes, and for the first time, I saw the leader in him, the man willing to do what needed to be done to protect us. He wasn't just talking about survival anymore—he was talking about a war.

I held Ella tighter, wanting to shield her from the weight of it all, but I knew I couldn't. We were in this together. As much as I hated it, the world outside wasn't going to get any easier. I had to be ready, for her, for the kids, for everyone.

And when Rick said we were going to kill The Saviors, something inside me snapped into focus. This wasn't just about survival anymore. This was about making sure they never got the chance to hurt us. I wasn't going to let them. Not now. Not ever.

Rick's words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of what we were about to do. "We could've tried to stop them, but by then, in a fight like that, with no food, we'd lose. This is the only way we can be sure, as sure as we can be, that we'll win," he said, his voice steady but tinged with the urgency of the moment. "We have to win. We do this for The Hilltop, it's how we keep this place, how we feed this place. But, this needs to be a group decision. If anyone objects, say it now."

I let his words settle in, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on my chest. This was more than just another fight for survival; this was about securing our future, about protecting the people we loved and everything we'd worked so hard to build. But even knowing that didn't make the decision any easier. I glanced around, my eyes sweeping the room, trying to gauge the others' reactions. I could feel the tension thickening in the air. There wasn't room for doubt or hesitation here. This was going to be a fight we couldn't afford to lose.

The silence stretched out longer than it should have, a quiet before the storm. My mind raced with thoughts of what was at stake—what could happen if we failed. But when Rick's eyes swept over us, it was like he could sense the same unease, the same fear in everyone. And then, just as I was about to let my thoughts spiral, one person stood.

Morgan.

My heart sank. I turned to look at him, watching as he stood, his figure so different from the man I used to know. Back when we first met, Morgan had been a survivor, driven by the instinct to protect his son, no matter what. But after everything he'd been through, he'd changed. Now, he was a pacifist, some kind of idealist who clung to the belief that all life was precious, even in a world where it felt like life barely had any value left. I could already feel my frustration bubbling up, the urge to roll my eyes threatening to take over. I wasn't in the mood for Morgan's "we can all be saved" nonsense.

Morgan's voice broke through my thoughts, steady but with that same conviction he always had. "You're sure we can win?" he asked, his eyes fixed on Rick, challenging him without even realizing it.

Rick didn't hesitate, his response calm and reassuring. "What this group has done, what we've become, yes. I'm sure."

But Morgan wasn't satisfied with that. His tone was measured, almost condescending as he replied, "Then all we have to do is just tell them that."

Ella mumbled something under her breath, rolling her eyes as she turned back to face Rick, clearly fed up with Morgan's "no killing" rule. I could feel her frustration in the way her shoulders tensed, the way her lips pressed into a tight line. I didn't blame her. Hell, I didn't blame any of us for being done with it. Morgan's idealism had no place here, not in this world. Not now.

"Morgan, these people don't compromise," Rick said, his voice firm, cutting through the rising tension.

Morgan's response was swift, sharp. "It's not a compromise. It's a choice you give them. It's a way out, for them and for us."

My teeth ground together, the urge to stand up and snap at Morgan almost overwhelming. There was no way he could seriously believe that we could just offer a peaceful way out. People like the Saviors didn't care about choices. They didn't care about mercy. They took what they wanted and killed anyone who got in their way. Morgan didn't get it. He hadn't seen the things I'd seen, the things we'd all been forced to do in order to survive.

I wanted to shout, to demand that Morgan see reason, to make him understand how dangerous this situation had become. But I knew better than to escalate things right now. Rick was doing his best to hold it together, to maintain some semblance of control over a situation that felt like it was slipping through our fingers. That was the priority: keeping it together. We couldn't afford to fall apart, not now, not when everything was on the line. The time for ideals and second chances had long passed. If we didn't deal with this now, there might not be a "later" for any of us.

Ella, evidently sharing my thoughts, didn't hesitate for a second. She stood up, her posture radiating frustration and fierce determination.

"I don't know if you weren't listening," she said, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife, "but Rick said they killed a sixteen-year-old boy just to prove a point to The Hilltop." Her eyes locked on Morgan's, and I could see the anger simmering beneath her calm exterior. She cradled Ruby against her chest, but even the softness of the baby's presence couldn't soften the fire in her words. "You really think that we should give up our advantage, our safety, to give these people a chance? They'd slaughter us, just like they did that boy, Morgan."

Morgan didn't answer right away. He just stood there, shaking his head, his eyes a mix of confusion and stubbornness. It was as if he couldn't see the truth of the situation, couldn't comprehend the world we were all living in now.

Ella's frustration grew. "They murdered a child in cold blood. What makes you think they wouldn't kill the rest of us?" Her voice was raw with emotion, her protective instincts flaring up. "We have to attack before they come for us. We don't have a choice. If we don't stop them, they'll come for us next."

Morgan's eyes stayed locked on hers, unwavering. "That's where you're wrong," he said calmly, his voice steady, but his words carried a quiet conviction. "Where there is life, there is possibility."

Ella's eyebrows shot up, disbelief flashing across her face. "Do you hear yourself?" she scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm sorry, but I have children to feed. I have to protect them. I can't sit here and wait for these people to slaughter us just because you're too chicken shit to get blood on your hands." She took a step closer to him, the heat of her words burning through the room.

"I've had blood on my hands!" Morgan snapped, his voice rising with frustration. "I've seen what cold-blooded murder does to people. We are not trapped in this, none of us are."

The tension between them was palpable. Morgan was so focused on his ideals, on the belief that there was always another way, that he was blind to the danger right in front of him. He was living in the past, not the present. Ella was a mother, a protector, and she wasn't about to let anyone—least of all Morgan—put our family at risk. Not now. Not after everything we had been through.

"Morgan," Rick finally interjected, his voice cutting through the growing tension between Ella and Morgan. He stepped in front of her, gently pulling Ella back down beside me. She relaxed a little, but her anger was still palpable, the energy still buzzing in the air between us. "They always come back."

Morgan's gaze hardened. "They come back when they're dead too," he said, his voice quieter now, but no less determined.

Rick didn't flinch. "Then we'll stop them. We've done it before."

"I'm not talking about the walkers!" Morgan's voice trembled, the weight of his words hitting harder than he expected. His eyes locked on Rick, pleading with him to reconsider, as if his faith in a peaceful solution could somehow fix everything. His gaze was desperate, the glassiness in his eyes revealing the internal conflict that had been building up inside of him.

I could see it in Rick's eyes too. There was a silent understanding between them, an unspoken exchange of regret and understanding. They both knew that Morgan's way wasn't going to work. That the world had changed, that they couldn't keep pretending things were the same as they had been before. Morgan wanted to believe that there was still hope, still a way to hold on to his ideals. But Rick knew better. And Ella, fiercely protective and willing to fight for our family, knew it too.

Rick shook his head slowly, his eyes scanning the crowd, his voice low but steady. "Morgan wants to talk to them first," he said, the words heavy with frustration. "I think that's a mistake, but it's not up to me. I'm not the one calling the shots here." He sighed, his gaze flickering over the faces of the group, as if looking for any sign of dissent, any hint of hesitation. "I'll talk to the people who are still at home, discuss it with those on guard duty too. But before we make any decisions, does anyone else think talking to The Saviors first is a good idea?"

The room was silent for a moment, tension hanging thick in the air. Then, like a dam breaking, Aaron shot up from his seat, his hand instinctively reaching out for Eric's. His fingers locked around his partner's, a silent show of solidarity. His gaze was intense, his focus unwavering as he spoke, his voice strong and resolute.

"What happened with the Wolves," Aaron began, his tone low but steady, "we can't let that happen again. We can't afford it. Not with what we've built here." His eyes flickered briefly to Morgan, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air between them. His expression was fierce, his words directed not only at Morgan but at the group as a whole. "I won't let it happen again. We can't afford another mistake like that."

I could see the weight of Aaron's words, the burden of guilt he carried so heavily on his shoulders. The Wolves had found us because of the mistake Aaron made when he dropped his pack. He'd been carrying photos of Alexandria, and those photos had been found by the Wolves. It had been a shared mistake, but Aaron had taken it harder than I ever did. He felt responsible for what happened, for the danger the Wolves had brought to our doorstep. But I knew that the guilt wasn't entirely his to bear. We'd both been there, both made that mistake. But Aaron, with his fierce loyalty to the community, had always been harder on himself than anyone else ever could be.

Aaron sat back down, his eyes briefly meeting mine, a silent understanding between us before he nodded at Rick. There was no need for more words. The guilt still lingered, but Aaron knew, just as I did, that this was about survival, not about dwelling on the past.

Rick's voice broke through the heavy silence, his tone firm, resolute. "Looks like it's settled then." His gaze swept over the group, his eyes hardening with conviction. "We know exactly what we're dealing with here. We don't shy away from it. We live through it, and we deal with it."

He locked eyes with Morgan, his stare unwavering, a challenge in his gaze. "We kill them all. I don't care who does it, but we have to be clear about this. There's no room for hesitation, no room for second chances. If people want to stay here, in this community, they need to accept that reality. No one gets to sit this out."

With that, Rick's words hung in the air like a weighty conclusion, and without another word, he turned and stormed out of the church. The door swung shut behind him with a finality that seemed to echo through the silence.

I stood up with a groan, feeling the weight of the conversation settle into my bones. I stretched my legs, the tension from the meeting still crawling under my skin. I moved toward Ella, slipping my arm around her shoulders as we walked out of the church together. Her presence was grounding, her strength calming, and I knew, as we walked side by side, that whatever came next, we would face it together.

The streets of Alexandria were quiet as we made our way home, the weight of Rick's words still hanging over us. The decision had been made, the group had chosen a path. It wasn't easy, and it wasn't what any of us wanted, but it was the only choice we had. And now, we would have to live with it.

We kept the evening routine normal, the kind of mundane, comforting tasks that helped us feel grounded amidst everything. We made dinner, gave the kids their bath, and tucked them into bed. The house was filled with the soft sounds of our children's breathing, and for a few fleeting moments, life felt like it could return to normal. I met up with Rick, Maggie, Jesus, and the newcomer from his community to go over plans, hashing out details for what was ahead.

When I came back, I slipped quietly to the back porch, needing a moment to myself. I knew it wasn't the healthiest choice, but sometimes, I just needed that quiet. I found my hidden pack of cigarettes, tucked away in the drawer beneath the bathroom sink, and stepped outside. I sat on the worn wooden deck, feeling the smooth, weathered boards under my free hand. The air was cool against my skin, a slight breeze carrying the scent of night and earth. I leaned back, letting the stars above stretch out across the sky as I brought the cigarette to my lips. The first drag hit my lungs, and for a second, everything was clearer. The world felt just a little bit quieter.

Time lost its meaning as I smoked, each pull steady, trying to push down the unease swirling in my chest. I wasn't proud of the habit, but tonight, it gave me something to hold on to. I watched the orange glow of the cigarette burn down until only a stub was left. I pocketed it quickly, the thought of Ella catching me with it already making my stomach twist. The last thing I wanted was her lecturing me, or worse, Ruby crawling around the yard and finding it, or Ian picking it up and thinking it was some kind of toy.

I barely heard her approach, her soft steps on the deck barely making a sound, but I saw her shadow in the doorframe before she spoke.

"Hey," Ella called softly, her voice cutting through the silence. She shut the door behind her with a quiet click and padded over to me, barefoot. "What are you doing? I thought you were still with Rick and Maggie."

I looked up at her, offering a tired smile. "Nah, came back a bit ago."

Her smile was bright as she stood in front of me, and without hesitation, she leaned down to kiss me. The warmth of her lips lingered on mine, and when she pulled away, she smirked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Where'd you get the cigarettes?" she asked, her laughter bubbling up as she pulled back.

I raised an eyebrow and smirked right back. "Had 'em for a while," I said, trying to sound nonchalant, but I could see the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

She rolled her eyes but climbed into my lap anyway, her thighs gently bracketing mine as she settled into place. Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling herself closer to me.

"Well, I guess I can let it slide, just this once," she whispered, pressing her forehead to mine. The warmth of her breath sent a shiver down my spine. "I'm going with you tomorrow."

I pulled back slightly, eyebrows knitting together. "The hell you are," I growled, my voice rough, the protective instinct kicking in. "What about the kids? Ruby's still mostly on milk, and you threw a fit when we were gone dealing with the herd."

Ella sighed, her eyes softening, but her resolve unwavering. "I'll pump more milk, just in case," she said, cupping my face in her delicate hands. "Maggie's pregnant, and we don't have enough people going as it is. You need me. And besides..." Her voice dropped, as if trying to make me hear the weight of her words. "Dixon's stick together."

I exhaled heavily, the weight of it all pressing down on me. I leaned into her touch, letting her warmth melt the tension in my shoulders. "Baby, no," I said softly. "The kids need you."

Ella's fingers gently brushed over the stubble on my chin, her eyes locked on mine with a fierce intensity. "The kids need to be safe," she said, her voice steady but filled with urgency. "They need to not have this group of terrorists hanging over their heads. They slaughtered a teenage boy, Daryl—who knows what they'd do to Ruby, to Ian, to the other kids here?" Her hand slid from my face to rest over my chest, her fingers tracing soft lines. "I know you worry, but I need to go with you. You need as many people as possible."

My heart twisted at her words. I saw the fire in her eyes, the same fire that had always fueled her determination to protect those she loved. She was right, in a way. The risk was too great to leave her behind. But the thought of her being out there, in the thick of it, made my gut tighten with fear. Still, I knew Ella, and I knew she wasn't backing down.

I tried to pull back, to refuse her again, but before I could even find the words, she silenced me with a kiss. Her lips were warm, tender, and everything I needed in that moment. As she pressed closer, her tongue met mine, and for a second, everything else faded away. The world outside, the worry, the fight—it all melted. It was just us, our breaths mingling, the softness of her lips against mine, and the feeling of her hand gently cupping my face.

This woman—this fierce, beautiful woman—was everything to me. She had a strength I could never have imagined, a fire that matched mine, and damn if it didn't drive me wild. She made me want to be better, to be worthy of her love. The things I hated about myself, the things I thought would always keep me distant from people, were the very things that drew me to her, that made me fall for her over and over again. Sometimes it felt like an irony I couldn't escape, but it was the truth—she made me crazy in the best way.

"Daryl," she whispered, pulling back from our kiss, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. "Take me to bed."

I didn't hesitate. I stood effortlessly, lifting her into my arms and feeling the weight of her body against mine. She wrapped her legs around my waist, pressing her lips to mine once more, deepening the kiss as I carried her through the house. I didn't even think about where I was going—my only focus was her.

When we finally reached our bedroom, I laid her down gently, my hands lingering on her skin as if I were afraid she'd slip away. I cherished her, every inch of her, in ways I hadn't even realized I needed to. I breathed in the scent of her skin, the softness of her touch, and I knew, without a doubt, that I'd do anything for her, for us. I'd die for her and the kids in a heartbeat if it meant keeping them safe, if it meant keeping them happy.

Ella—my everything—was there, with me, and I'd never take it for granted. Every sound she made, every whisper of love, was a reminder of how lucky I was to have her by my side.

When it was over, and we lay together, tangled in the warmth of each other's arms, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. Our chests rose and fell in tandem, and I let myself drift off, knowing that no matter what came next, I had the most important thing in my life—her.