There is a super helpful authors note at the end of this chapter. It might explain some questions you may have after reading it. :)
In her dreams, she's a monster.
Every door has a 4 on it. And her hands are smeared with blood that she can't quite wipe off.
Fluorescent lights flicker and hum overhead, and she sees the others talking, but the only sound she hears is the hum.
Daryl is by her side, and she looks to him before she ends them. One, two, three, four men. Four lives snuffed out by her own hands.
At first she's afraid. And then she feels guilty. But after the fourth, she's powerful.
Invincible.
Ali's eyes open abruptly and she looks around her darkened room. Daryl is still asleep, his back to her, but she knows he woke when she did. He barely sleeps, and has been on edge since the outpost.
He's just waiting to see what she's going to do.
Feeling dehydrated, she sits up and moves to get out of bed as quietly as she can. Her thighs feel bruised and her pelvis aches. She looks over to him, still lying there quietly. Scratches on his shoulder become more visible as her eyes focus, and she brings her hands up to scrub at her face.
An empty bottle of Jameson on her table jogs her memory.
They had gotten into her stash. And they had fucked. Hard.
She hasn't been doing well since their attack on the Savior outpost.
She hasn't been doing well since Dwight and Sherry went missing.
She pulls the bottle from the highest shelf in her closet. Daryl is still on watch, so she decides to drown some demons while he's gone.
She sits on the roof smoking and drinking directly from the bottle she hides behind her back.
She took lives like they were nothing. And she's afraid of herself.
Daryl paces the watch post.
He knows she's strong, but she's trying to hide how much their ambush affected her.
She killed four men in their sleep, then several more in a shootout. He had been there alongside her. Shooting. Killing. Adrenaline burning up their insides.
He had never been more confident of their power. And he had never been more turned on by her. He shares her conflictive feelings.
Aaron had given him gentle warnings.
"She does this. Internalizes. Then it all comes exploding out. Maybe she'll talk to you though."
As soon as his replacement arrives, he is fighting the urge to actually run back to her.
She had given up smoking on the roof in favor of the chair. She had dragged it over to the window, knocking over books and their belongings. She sits with her feet up on the windowsill, and ashes her cigarettes into a glass balanced next to her. The bottle, between her legs.
When the door opens, she knows it's him. And he smells the alcohol immediately. Growing up with an alcoholic father, the smell was unmistakable.
"Ali. What are you doing?" He asks, stepping over the books and clothes to get a look at her.
She stays put, her back to him, nonchalantly taking a drag off of her tenth cigarette and exhaling.
"Whatever. The Fuck. I wanna do." She slurs her words, putting emphasis on the word fuck. "Because. I'M alive." She finishes.
He closes the distance between them, taking his place to face her as he leans against the window pane. Her eyes are red, and dark circles reside underneath them. Her hair is a halo of darkness and, in her current state, she looks absolutely insane.
"I told you to stay outside with Maggie." He says quietly, as he reaches between her legs to take the bottle. He takes two large gulps as he waits for her to speak.
But she doesn't.
She looks up to see him drinking more, and sits up to take the bottle back.
"Hey!" She says, reaching up to swipe the bottle, and completely missing.
"You had enough. You tryin' for a hangover?"
"I'm not gonna get… that." Her usual articulate speech completely eliminated by her state of inebriation. "Give it back!"
She stands, stumbling a bit.
The warmth of the whiskey fills his insides as his head begins to swim a little. It's been ages since he's had any. Turning the bottle up, he swallows what's left before she can reach him.
"God… damn it Daryl!" She yells as she yanks the empty bottle from his hand, letting it slip out of her hands with a loud thunk onto her rug.
They stare at each other.
"Tell me. Please." He begs, no louder than a whisper.
He's been asking what she's thinking, and she's been shutting him down. He knows this game all too well.
Repressed feelings are his specialty.
She moves over to him unsteadily and grabs onto his waist, pushing him back to her table. He sits back on it hard as she kisses him roughly. She tastes of whiskey and desperation, and he can't get enough.
As she straddles him, her pack slams into the lamp sending it to the floor and it's suddenly dark aside from the moonlight. Grabbing onto her thighs, he pulls her closer as she grinds herself against his hard on. She breaks their kiss and pushes his hair out of his eyes.
She wants to tell him she loves him. She wants to tell him he is everything.
But she kisses him instead.
He pulls her tank top over her head. She pulls his shirt apart, and grips his shoulders hard as she kisses and bites at his neck. He tries to stifle a groan, feeling embarrassed at his intense arousal. But her assertiveness in this moment erases all other thoughts and all he can focus on is her.
The hold she has on him scares him to death.
He snakes his hands under her and lifts her up as he stands and he lets her down hard on the bed. As she works at his pants, he tears her panties in half, earning a yelp and a laugh out of her.
He pushes in hard, and his hip bones slam into her groin as she lifts her pelvis off the bed to meet each thrust.
She doesn't even feel the pain. Just pulls him as deep as she can. As close as she can.
She's loud and uncaring if anyone hears. His breath is quick and frantic.
They push and pull. Rough. Hard. Fast.
And she would do anything to never let him go.
Reaching down to touch her bruised thighs, she stands. And the room spins.
After a mad dash to the bathroom, she vomits the contents of her stomach into the toilet.
Warm hands pull her hair out of her face, and the coolness of the bathroom comforts her.
He's crouched behind her, and she sits back against him as she flushes the toilet.
"Too much booze." He says as he smoothes her hair back.
"I'm a fucking idiot."
"Nah. You're just workin' some shit out."
He stands and moves to turn the shower on. His absence a cold shock against her back. And she looks up at him through bloodshot eyes.
"C'mon." He says, reaching down to help her up. Then he pulls her large shirt over her head, to find her naked underneath.
He helps her in, removes his boxers, and gets in behind her.
Holding her to his chest, with a hand steadying himself on the wall in front of them, he speaks.
"You ain't alone. You ain't ever gonna be alone. Drinking yourself to death ain't gonna help."
"You were right." She croaks, throat dry and painful. "It is different."
He doesn't speak. He doesn't gloat. Just holds her.
Until she feels okay enough to come out.
She wakes a couple hours later, and immediately reaches over for him. She sits up when she finds the bed empty, and groans as she brings her hand to her forehead.
The light coming in the window tells her it's still early, and she looks to her chair to find some clothes laid out and a note.
She gingerly walks to grab it, carefully avoiding jostling her brain.
working on the bike
hope you feel better
In spite of the pain in her head, she smiles.
Dressing very carefully, she makes a mental note to ask Daryl about the sex. Though he had cleaned up a bit while she was asleep, the chair was still where she had left it, and her lamp was still on the floor.
Daryl sits on the porch step talking with Carol when she finally emerges.
"Here she is." Carol says, turning to look back at Ali, who closes the door behind her. "Daryl says you weren't feeling too well."
"It's uh, just a bad headache I think." Ali looks to Daryl, who shrugs just slightly. She moves past them, down the steps and looks back. "I need to go talk to Denise really quick. I'll be right back though."
"You okay?" He asks.
"Yeah, totally fine." She waves her hand behind her lazily and makes her way down the street.
She passes Rosita and Spencer having a heated conversation, earning her a glare from the former. She raises her hands in surrender and presses on to the infirmary.
She knocks twice before Denise answers.
"You know, I was just about to come find you." Denise says. "I need your help with something."
"Can I ask you a question first? Well, more like a medical request. No questions asked."
"Um. Sure." Denise adjusts her glasses nervously.
"Do you have the Depo shot here? Or birth control of any kind?"
"N-no, but…"
"I'm not supposed to be able to get pregnant. But. I just think… You know what, I don't know what I think. Forget I asked. Please." Ali turns to leave, face hot with embarrassment.
"I know where you might be able to get some. If we find it, I'll give you the injection." Noticing her flushed face, Denise lowers her voice. "No one has to know. About you and Dixon, I mean."
"Well… where?"
"Actually, I think I need both of you for this one."
They walk back towards where Daryl had been working on his bike and end up running into him halfway.
He looks at Ali expectantly and she returns the look with a nod in Denise's direction.
"Okay so, I need help. I remembered a place I saw when I left D.C. In this little crappy strip mall, I saw a store called Eddison's Apothecary and Boutique. It's just a little gift shop, but if it's really an apothecary, they had drugs."
"Well, how do you know they still got 'em?"
"It isn't that far, and I just wanted to check. You and Ali aren't on watch today, and I know you'd probably prefer to go together. So…"
"We'll go." Ali answers, making eye contact with Daryl.
"I mean. I wanted to check." Denise counters timidly.
"How much time've you spent out there?" Daryl asks?
"None."
"No way.
"I can ID meds. I know how to use a machete now. I've seen roamers up close. I'm ready."
He turns to Ali.
"You good with this?"
"Not at all. But she has a point, we know next to nothing about pharmaceuticals."
Denise looks back and forth between them expectantly, as Daryl and Ali stare each other down. She watches how they work it out without words.
"Alright. We go get our stuff and meet back here in 30." He answers, finally.
Denise smiles and turns to hurry back to the infirmary.
"Why'd she ask you about this anyway?" He asks as they walk back to their room.
"We're doing each other a favor." Ali answers cryptically.
"Look, you've been kinda messed up lately. And last night? I know if I'm hurtin', you gotta be." Ali stares at the ground as they walk. The last thing she expected was for him to bring up their drunken sex acts. She figured she'd be the one to awkwardly address it later. "I just wanna make sure you're okay. That you'll be okay out there no matter what we come across."
"I'm fine Daryl. I'm… I'm sorry about last night. And I'm sorry you're hurting."
He gently grasps her elbow.
"You can talk to me, but I ain't gonna pry. You don't gotta let shit eat you up inside."
She gives him a weak smile as they begin to prep their weapons.
"What do you think happened to Sherry and Dwight?" Denise asks from between Ali and Daryl. He drives an ancient pickup truck with the three of them crammed into the bench seat. Ali and Daryl at the doors for easy exit in case of trouble.
"I don't know." Daryl answers, his mind obviously miles away.
"But like, why?" Ali leans forward to get his attention. "I mean I was helping Sherry learn to defend herself. Dwight seemed to be fitting in okay. It doesn't make sense."
He shrugs, suspicious, however not putting a ton of thought into the issue. But Ali can't let it go.
"Daryl."
"Yep. I see it."
The road is blocked by a fallen tree. Too much for them to try and move on their own. So now, they walk.
Denise and Daryl talk periodically. Ali hangs back.
She can feel him looking back at her over his shoulder. As though he's checking to see if she's disappeared. What she can't seem to wrap her head around, is the disappearance of Sherry. Sure, most of their things had been gone, but why would anyone abandon a safe haven. The very thought stuns her, as abandoning safety had been her thought process before.
Before him.
"Hey" Daryl calls back, quietly. Ali looks up.
A white, brick, strip mall is ahead of them. A cell phone store, a music store, car insurance agent, coffee shop, and the apothecary.
Swallowing any anxiety, she steps forward to join Daryl.
"Alright, me and Ali go first. Keep an eye out behind us. Don't need any surprises." He tells Denise.
She nods and looks around.
They approach the long building as quietly as they can when something grabs Ali's attention.
"My god" She whispers to herself.
Daryl looks over raising his eyebrows in question.
She just points.
Somehow he didn't see them. Disgusting parts of this world hardly stand out to him anymore. All along the front of the apothecary are bloody handprints. They taper off in front of the coffee shop and the car insurance office, but the bulk of them are there, in this one spot.
They probably chased someone in there.
Ali places her hand on the door to steady it for Daryl to pry it open. Once free, she holds the door, ready to open on his command. He nods to her from behind his crossbow, and she quickly and quietly swings it open.
She raises her machete, and enters behind him.
The store is small, dark, dusty, and deathly quiet.
It doesn't take long for them to determine there are no immediate threats, and they begin their work prying the sliding metal door that covers the pharmacy open. As soon as the door is up, they realize this place is entirely untouched. Daryl helps Ali over the counter before climbing up himself.
She smiles at him who returns it with a nod. Starting at opposite ends, they work filling their bags.
Ali finds the vials of the birth control she's after, along with some fresh needles, and a couple pregnancy tests. She looks up to make sure he's preoccupied before hastily shoving them in her bag.
A thudding catches their attention. Daryl looks up from his aisle and immediately makes eye contact with Ali. And Denise moves closer to the counter.
"Sounds like it's stuck." Daryl shrugs, and they go back to their collecting.
"I'll get it." Denise offers.
"Don't. It's caught, it's not going to get out of that closet, just leave it." Ali assures her, then goes back to her work.
She zoned out while pulling bottle after bottle of antibiotics into her bag.
Her mind is on the people she killed.
Her mind is on her missing friend.
Her mind is on Daryl.
A door slamming into the wall, and Denise darting out of the store retching catches Ali's attention, and she's over the counter in a second with Daryl behind her.
Slowly and quietly, she enters the small closet.
An incredibly decayed walker with a lower leg cast sits against a wall. It bangs it's cast against the baseboard as it tries unsuccessfully to get at her.
"Jesus Christ." She whispers to herself.
Scanning the room, she sees a playpen with baby toys and clothes. But no baby. Ali scans her flashlight up the wall. Written all over is HUSH in red crayon, leading to a utility sink filled with brown rotten water and a baby shoe floating on top.
She gasps, bringing her hands to cover her mouth, and stumbling backward into Daryl.
He grasps her shoulders and turns her to face him.
"You go on. Grab your bag and check on Denise."
All she can do is nod.
Denise sits on the curb outside. She turns a keychain in her hands over and over again in an anxious loop.
The door clicks open and Ali sits beside her.
"I know. I shouldn't have come. But how else do you become brave, if you don't face it head on?"
"I'm not brave." Ali says quietly.
"But you are." Denise counters.
Ali breathes out a disbelieving laugh.
"I can't even tell the man I'm in love with, that I love him. I can't even tell him that I came here for birth control. I can't even tell him… that I've been pregnant before."
Denise looks at Ali and gives her a weak, empathetic smile. They're silent for a moment.
"Im sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you all of this…"
Denise clears her throat.
"I won't say anything. But I think you should tell him, everything. He's in love with you. It's obvious."
Ali nods, looking at the ground. Her heart beats a little faster with Denise's admission.
"You are brave Denise. You just don't know it yet."
The door behind them opens and Daryl steps out.
"You okay?" He asks Denise, and she answers with a nod. "You did good finding this place."
He helps both women to their feet and they begin the trek back.
Daryl didn't want to take the train tracks.
He told Ali about Terminus one night in bed. The things he saw there, the death he faced. He told her about Joe and the claimers. About Beth.
She had put her hand over his and just let him talk.
That was one of his favorite things about her, that he could just talk to her and she would just listen. She hung onto every word like they were the last she'd ever hear. He felt important. Loved.
But the tracks were quicker, and it was already getting late.
They had been playing Ali's favorite game. "I know what you need". Mostly Denise and Ali, but Daryl would join in begrudgingly after grumbling that travel games are stupid.
"Alright Ali, I know what you need." Denise says with a chuckle.
"Oh yeah?"
"A drink. The alcoholic kind."
Ali laughs.
"Oh Jesus no. I'm never drinking again after last night."
"Aww come on, never say…"
A silenced bullet whizzes by Ali's side and hits Denise in the side knocking her down, and Daryl does his best to catch her.
Ali slings her rifle off of her shoulder fast, and whirls around to see four men with guns raised.
And Dwight.
"I don't think so Ali. Put the gun down." He says, his still trained on her.
She glances over at Daryl, his face is mostly hidden by his rifle, but she can see the shock.
"Why? Why did you shoot her?" Ali yells. "She's a fucking doctor! And she didn't do anything!"
"Well. I wasn't aiming for her. See, Daryl here killed a group of the boss' guys, so the boss wants you dead. You know, an eye for an eye and all that. So. Get over here. On your knees."
Daryl is fuming. Vibrating with rage and terror. But Ali looks at him calmly.
She hands Daryl her gun and he grabs her arm.
"Oh and by the way, Negan knows what you did to that outpost." Dwight sneers, calling over to where they stand.
"You ain't doing this."
"Just be ready." She whispers and kisses his lips.
"We ain't got all fuckin' day" Dwight grouses, shifting from one leg to the other.
Ali walks over to Dwight and looks him in the eye.
"We helped you. And your wife. She was my friend…"
"I said on your knees."
She kneels down and sits back on her heels, placing her hands on either side of her legs to steady herself.
"Alright Daryl, I'm guessing you're probably pretty confused at this point. I work, for Negan. When Sherry and I left, we thought we would actually make it, we thought we could make a new life for ourselves. But seeing what you all are going through with Negan made us realize, there's no winning against him. You are mismatched. So, I told them where to find you all in exchange for our safety. We've been watching your little town for a few days now. When you were working on your bike, we were watching. When you were on watch, we were watching you. When you were fucking your girlfriend last night, we were watching, and let me say, that was a helluva show. You might want to invest in some blinds, now you know them trees have eyes..."
He stops short and screams in pain.
"Stupid bitch!" Dwight roars.
Daryl looks down for a split second to see Ali holding onto a knife buried in Dwight's thigh. The knife she keeps down in her boot.
He immediately starts firing on the men behind Dwight, killing three of the four. The last one shooting at Daryl and missing before taking off.
Ali yanks her knife out and, aiming for his kidneys, loses her balance on her knees and slashes at the backs of his legs as he takes off.
Daryl takes off after him.
"Wait! Daryl, stop!" Ali screams, and he struggles to slow and stop himself. "Let him go, we're fucked anyway. Please just help me with Denise!"
She crouches next to her, finding a pulse, and pressing her hands down hard on the wound.
Daryl says nothing. Just picks up her gun and bag and hands them over along with his bag so he can carry Denise back.
Sweat pours down Ali's face from the exertion of the bags and weapons weighing down her thin frame. They walk in silence aside from the occasional grunt from Daryl as he re-adjusts Denise's weight.
They get her back to the truck. When they're all in, a sob escapes her and she swallows down the rest.
There's no time for fear.
Daryl just stares.
He starts the truck, and Ali jumps when he begins violently beating the steering wheel.
"Daryl."
He punches the dash, splitting the skin on his knuckles.
"Daryl!"
"You were right! I didn't listen and you were almost executed!" She can hear him fighting tears as he yells at her.
"It doesn't matter!" She reaches over Denise and puts her hand on his forearm.
"God fucking damnit! I should have killed that fucker when he tried to take my shit in that forest!" He yells as he hits the dash one more time.
"Daryl, we have to get back, Denise is still bleeding. And we have to warn them."
He puts the truck in reverse and turns around roughly.
"It does matter." He says after a moment, still breathing hard through his rage.
"What does?" Ali asks, looking to him in the darkness.
"You."
They race home. Hearts in their throats, wondering if they'll have a home to go back to.
Hi friends!
Just thought I would clarify that though Ali was looking at items related to pregnancy, fear not! This will not be a fluffy, she gets pregnant, and everything will be happy and awesome fic. I won't give anything away, but this is an emotional journey, NOT a pregnancy fic. And anyway, this is The Walking Dead universe after all and things suck probably 90% of the time. Also, that being said, yes they do frequently have sex, but I feel this is a normal organic reaction to being in a new relationship and also head over heels in love with someone. I still try to stay true to Daryl's behaviors/mannerisms while also developing new mannerisms as he reacts to his feelings for Ali. So there's that.
Xx
