It feels so good to be writing again! I can't believe it has been five years since I last wrote. Daryl and Leah will always have a place in my heart, but I am enjoying creating Daryl and Hannah's story. And, I just love season 9 Daryl. He is so much fun to write.

If you are reading and enjoying, I would love to hear from you. I am wondering if the fanfic community is still alive and well?

Love, CJ

Chapter 2

Hannah looked at the half naked man sitting on her table and tried to make eye contact, but his head hung low and his eyes refused to leave the floor.

She gently touched his shoulder and he flinched. "Nasty cut ya got there."

His head briefly lifted to look at it, but didn't say a word.

"Dwight, mind stepping out? I want to give Daryl a full examination." Hannah asked the man standing guard at the door.

"You know how Negan feels 'bout that."

"Negan isn't here. Five minutes?"

Dwight nodded. "Yeah. Five minutes."

"Thanks." As soon as he stepped out of the door, Hannah made a beeline to a locked drawer, quickly opening it and grabbing a pack of peanut butter crackers.

She handed them to Daryl. "Eat. Fast. It's probably the last decent thing you're gonna have in awhile."

He grabbed the pack from her hands and ripped it open furiously. She turned away, gathering supplies to treat his shoulder while he ate. She took her time, giving him privacy. When she heard the empty plastic pack crinkle she turned, taking the trash and quickly disposing of it.

"Thanks." Daryl said quietly.

Hannah nodded in acknowledgment. "Dwight. You can come back in."

Dwight stepped in and closed the door behind him.

"He seems good, except for this shoulder laceration." She said to Dwight. "I'm gonna patch him up and then he's all yours."

The room was quiet while Hannah worked, the only sound an occasional hiss of pain from Daryl. She worked quickly, but gently. And when Dwight took him away she tried not to think about what his future held.


Daryl walked the catwalk above the factory floor. Below him, workers kept busy, staying true to the jobs they had been given under Negan's rule. They had been welcoming to him, something he hadn't expected. They shook his hand, told him thank you and were genuinely grateful Negan was gone. Daryl understood. Negan was a sick fuck.

He leaned against the rail and watched the movement on the floor. They were counting on him and he sure as shit hoped he didn't let them down. Or Rick. Or Maggie. Or Carol.

He wasn't sold on Rick's plan, but he was willing to give it a shot. He and Maggie had an agreement. They would try, but we're willing to take action if things didn't work out. He might have almost lost his will to live in this place, but he owed Rick a chance at making it work. Rick was family.

He was grateful for Eugene and his insight into how the sanctuary operated. They had been working closely together for a week now, making plans for how to give this place new life. Together they had sketched out plans for crops, for harvesting and storing food, they had brainstormed about how to make fuel, and create energy and how to keep fresh water flowing. And they were working on a trade system between the communities. Negan and his crew weren't dumb, they were just assholes. They had left a good blueprint to work from.

Daryl rubbed his face. He was dog tired. Getting sleep in this place was damn near impossible. He had been tossing and turning every night, usually giving up and opting to take a walk outside. It was catching up to him. His thoughts were foggy and stamina low. He suppressed a yawn and pushed off the railing, briefly wondering if the nurse had something to help him sleep. The thought left his mind as quickly as it entered when his radio crackled. Carol's voice came over the line and the corner of his lips turned up. It was comforting to hear her familiar voice.

Hannah carefully unwrapped Jonah's arm, and winched when she saw the infection underneath. His wound was covered in sores, and the smell turned her stomach. It was undeniable. Jonah had developed gangrene.

She needed antibiotics. Antibiotics that she didn't have. She examined the infection, and considered her options. Without the antibiotics she couldn't do much except amputate further. She wasn't a surgeon, to attempt anything more complex was out of the question. She would end up doing more harm than good. She had no way of knowing if the infection had already spread to his blood stream or not, but she had to act fast.

Shit. Balls. Mother fucking shit balls.

She wanted to throw something.

Hannah flew around the infirmary, gathering what she needed. She needed a sedative. Jonah's fever had him in and out of consciousness, but it wasn't enough. And dammit. She needed help. She made a beeline out the door and down the hall, looking for anyone who might know where her infirmary help was.

"Have you seen Sammie?" She asked a passerby.

They shook their head and she kept running, heading to the factory floor where Sammie slept.

Daryl watched Hannah crash through the door of the common area and wave frantically to someone. Two people jumped up, that he recognized as Sammie and Justin, and he watched the three of them run out together. That definitely looked like a situation that he needed to check on.

Beside him, Rosita commented. "What's that all about?"

"Gonna go find out." Daryl answered. His legs took long strides towards the doors, and he headed in the direction of the infirmary, hoping that was where the three were headed.

When he got there, Hannah was barking out orders.

"Justin. I'm gonna need you to hold him down. I don't have enough sedative to knock him completely out." Her tone was all business. "Sammie, tie up his arm right above the elbow."

Daryl hesitated at the door, unsure if he would be helpful or just in the way.

Hannah saw him at the door and quickly put him to work. "Daryl. You get his legs. Hold him down."

"What's going on?" He asked while moving into place.

"Gangrene." Hannah answered while scrubbing her hands. "I hope to God this works. It's our only option. I don't have the antibiotics that I need to kill the infection."

"Damn." Justin said.

Hannah dried her hands and carefully put gloves on. She picked up Jonah's mangled arm, examining, looking for the best place to make her cut. Daryl winced a little when he saw the wound, it was gnarly.

Hannah's quick and efficient movements made Daryl trust her expertise 100 percent. She picked up a bone saw, took a deep breath and said, "Hold tight."

Underneath Daryl, Jonah's body jerked and he moaned. Daryl looked up at his face, the kid was paler than a ghost.

Hannah was fast, and had the lower half of Jonah's arm was severed in no time.

"Shit. He's really bleeding." Hannah cursed after the cut was made. "It shouldn't be bleeding this much."

Sammie tightened the tourniquet and applied direct pressure to the wound. But it wasn't doing much good.

"Fuck." Hannah swore again.

Daryl looked up. Damn. That was a lot of blood.

"He's gonna fucking bleed out." Hannah's voice started to shake, as she gathered more towels to apply pressure, she was scared.

Daryl leaned his full weight onto Jonah's legs. The poor kid was shaking.

"He's going into shock." Sammie said, frantically and looking to Hannah for direction.

"Fuck!" Hannah pressed hard on the arm, applying as much pressure as she could, attempting to stop the blood flow. "Daryl, lift his legs. Justin. Turn his head in case he vomits."

Jonah's face was pale and sweating profusely.

"Sammie, what's his pulse?"

The young girl placed two fingers in his artery and shook her head. "We're gonna lose him."

"No!" Hannah shouted and gently slapped Jonah's face. "Hey buddy. Don't you dare give up on us."

She started working faster, to stop the bleeding. Daryl couldn't tell where Jonah's blood ended and where Hannah began. She was covered, elbows deep and up to her chest in it. Dark red, it soaked the sheets and pooled onto the floor. Jonah was no longer fighting, his body had gone still. Daryl grunted under the dead weight of the kids legs and shifted.

"Do you still have a pulse Sammie?"

The girl shook her head.

"Fuck." Hannah climbed onto the bed and straddled Jonah, she intertwined her hands and started chest compressions. "C'mon Jonah!"

Daryl made eye contact with Justin, and they exchanged unspoken words. This wasn't going to end well. Daryl nodded and grabbed the knife off his hip, handing it forward. Justin took it carefully, and held it at his side, ready to take quick action if needed.

Hannah wasn't going to stop. She refused to lose him. She was frantic, her chest compressions so hard that Daryl heard a rib crack.

"Hannah." Justin said, gently. "Stop."

"I'm not stopping until he comes back or turns!"

Sammie looked to Daryl for help, her eyes pleading with him to do something.

He had no fucking clue. Slowly, he put Jonah's legs down and stepped to Hannah's side. "He's gone."

Hannah pretended not to hear the deep, rough voice beside her. She could not fail. She was so tired of people dying.

Justin handed the knife off to Daryl and grabbed Hannah's waist, picking her up. "He's gone, Hannah. Stop."

She fought against him. "Put me down, Justin! I can't lose him."

Once he knife was in Daryl's hand, and Justin had Hannah, he wasted no time. "You sure he's gone?" He quietly asked Sammie.

She nodded. "Positive".

He gave a brief nod, turned Jonah's head to the side, and quickly put the knife into the bottom of his skull. As he pulled it out, the door to the infirmary banged close so hard the glass window rattled. He looked up just in time to see Hannah's dark hair disappear down the hallway.


She had found this spot about a year ago, outside the walls of the factory, it was the only place Hannah could be alone. Patrols rarely came around, and if she focused hard enough it almost felt like she wasn't at the sanctuary at all.

She leaned against the wall and looked out into the night. It was quiet and the moon was bright, casting shadows across the walls. The concrete ground underneath her butt was cold, and she pulled her coat tighter. In her hand, she gripped a bottle of Jack Daniels.

It just wasn't right. Jonah was young. Barely 18. And she had cost him his life with her shitty nursing skills. She was never supposed to be the one doing rustic surgeries, with no meds or sedatives. Sure, she had seen plenty of car accident victims, gunshot wounds and broken bones but, she was just a nurse for fuck's sake. Not a goddamn surgeon.

She unscrewed the cap of the glass bottle and took a large swig, the liquid burning on the way down. All she wanted to do was escape from the day. It had broken her. All the loss. It was too much sometimes.

She kicked at a rock with the toe of her boot, sending it skipping across the cement.

Before all this she had a great life. A good job at a hospital near DC, a nice apartment, a sweet boyfriend who loved her hard, and the best friends anyone could ask for. It wasn't a flashy life. It was quiet, happy and calm. And she missed it like hell. She generally tried not to think about life before. But, some nights memories came flooding back like a dam bursting open. Tonight was one of those nights.

She took another healthy swig from the bottle, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She was pissed at herself for losing Jonah. She was sloppy. She should have slowed down and been more intentional about where she was cutting. She could have tried to clean the dead tissue out of the wound first rather than amputating.

Shoulda. Coulda. Woulda.

She took another swig, fully intending to get shitfaced.

"Ya got enough for two?" A low, raspy voice interrupted her thoughts.

She looked up to see Daryl standing about 7 feet away. She hadn't heard him approach. "You always so damn quiet?"

He shrugged. "Yep."

She laughed despite her mood and held the bottle up, letting it to dangle from her fingers. Daryl was quick, and grabbed it before it could slip to the ground.

She watched, studying him, while he took a sip. He wasn't hard to look at that was for sure. Yeah, he was rough and a little intimidating, but Hannah wasn't fazed by his hardness. She seemed to have a thing for the bad boys since the world fell.

"Ya just gonna stand there drinking my shit or are you going to join me?"

She thought she saw a tiny up turn of his lips before he sat down next to her. He handed the bottle back and she held it to her lips for a short moment before taking a sip. "Bad day."

Daryl took the bottle back. "Yep."

They drank, passing the bottle back and forth in the silence of the night, neither of them feeling the need to talk. The whiskey worked quickly, and Hannah let her mind wander as her body loosened.

Finally she broke their silence. "You know what?"

"Huh?"

"I haven't been outside these stupid fences since I got here."

Daryl's head turned so he could look at her profile. He was surprised when he noticed how the moonlight lit her face up, and made her eyes sparkle.

Hannah could feel his eyes on her and she didn't mind one bit. It felt good to be noticed.

"I'd go crazy stuck in here." He said.

Hannah laughed sadly. "Why do you think I drink?"

Daryl laughed and took the bottle from her, taking his own swig.

"Negan never wanted to compromise my safety." She took the bottle back and sipped. "Stupid asshole."

"Ain't arguing that." He put his hand out for the bottle.

"Why do you drink Daryl?" Booze always made her introspective and willing to ask deep questions.

Daryl chewed his thumb and was quiet. Thinking. Hannah thought he might not answer the question. Finally, his voice cut through the silence. "Cause I don't want it to be like it was before. But, I don't want it to be like this neither."

"I do want it back to the way it was. I miss it every damn day."

Daryl nodded. "There was a girl. With our group. Beth." He paused and Hannah thought it looked like he was gaining his composure.

"She told me, ya can't be wishing for what was. It'll kill ya."

"Smart girl."

"Yeah." His voice cracked a little.

"Sounds like you miss her."

Daryl shrugged. "It was a long time ago."

Hannah frowned, before drinking some more. "I'm tired of losing people."

Daryl picked up a rock, turning it over between his thumb and forefinger. "Yeah."

She took another gulp from the bottle and handed it over, their hands brushing in the exchange. Hannah smiled. His hand felt rough, yet warm and strong and the comfort it gave her was enough to keep talking. "I hate it here. I never wanted to be here. But I told myself to just focus on helping people. But, instead I kill them."

She laughed, even though there was nothing funny.

Daryl looked at her, a frown on his face. "Ya helped me."

Hannah's head started to feel heavy and she let it drop to Daryl's shoulder. "That was easy. A few crackers and stitches in the shoulder is cake."

She felt him shift closer, getting comfortable. "Did more than that."

Hannah sighed. Her body was loose and warm. And Daryl was solid. Comfortable. "I'm just trying to find some type of happiness in this world."

Daryl held the bottle in front of his face. "This is a good start."

"What makes you happy Daryl?"

"You always ask so many damn questions?"

"Only when I drink. And I'm officially drunk right now."

Daryl snorted. "Fair 'nough."

Hannah nudged him. "So what is it?"

"People, I guess. The ones like family."

Hannah felt a twinge of jealousy that he had that. "Yeah. I don't have any of those here."

"Justin?"

Hannah snorted loudly. "Justin isn't exactly anything special. He's just convenient."

Daryl cocked an eyebrow.

"He just kinda keeps the loneliness away, ya know?"

"Yeah. I get it."

"You have anyone like that?"

"Naw."

"You should. It helps."

"Maybe."

"Does that make me seem slutty?"

"I've seen slutty before. It ain't you."

Hannah lifted her head to look at him. He was practically a stranger, yet she felt completely safe and comfortable with him. She couldn't remember the last time a person's presence felt so peaceful. She couldn't explain why. It just was.

He looked back at her, their eyes locking.

After Daryl had escaped the sanctuary, he never forgot her. Each damn day Hannah had popped into his head. Even when all he wanted to do was forget the shit he went through, there she was, her pretty face in his mind. She had been so kind to him, in a genuine way that was rare these days. It stuck with him.

Hannah turned her shoulders so her entire body faced him.

"I'm only doing this cause I'm really drunk. And you look like you need it." She said before her lips sloppily landed on his.

She expected him to push her away, and was surprised when his lips moved against hers. She was even more surprised at how hungry his movements were. She leaned forward, closing the gap between their bodies and let him suck greedily on her bottom lip.

Why did this feel so right? It had to be the alcohol talking. Daryl had no idea what he was doing. He hadn't kissed anyone since… well, he wasn't sure. Since before. Way before. And, honestly, he hadn't wanted to kiss anyone since Beth. But right here, in this moment, he wanted to kiss Hannah. Yeah. It was probably the alcohol.

Hannah's teeth nipped at him, sending sparks of electricity down his body. He felt his hand move on its own to grip her waist and their mouths moved hungrily against each other.

Hannah moaned a little before slowly breaking away. Daryl's lips followed her, stealing one last kiss.

After they both had taken a moment to catch their breath, he quietly said, "Only kissed ya back because I'm drunk."