Chapter Forty- One

"You smell like rain," I said to Daryl waking up in his arms one morning. It was a Sunday in the middle of spring and the day held nothing but opportunity. "You know, under the smell of whiskey and grease."

He grinned that famous crooked grin of his and kissed the top of my head. "Yew feeling like yew?"

I was drawing small circles around Darly's navel when he asked me this. I couldn't help but to giggle as I sat up, sporting a bare chest. I pinched my forearm. "Last time I checked," I said as I crawled on top of him. "But you're probably a better judge than I."

He sat up, leaving me straddling his lap. "I mean since last Friday night."

My back stiffened with his reference to the night I got too fucked up on LSD. Truth be told, I hadn't meant to take so much. It had all hit me at once, but I couldn't tell Daryl that- it made me look like I was out of my league, that I was too childish to handle my shit. "Yeah, I've been fine all week. Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "Just worried about yew." He took his index finger and gently tapped on my temple. "And worried about what's going on up there."

I crawled out of his lap and sat on the edge of the bed. "Why?" I turned to look at him over my shoulder.

Daryl sat up and scooted closer to me. "Just checking, kid."

"Because I'm crazy?" I stood up. "Like my mom?" I'm sure my standing in front of him butt ass naked, screaming didn't help me look any less crazy, but when I was called off guard about my mental health, it made me feel weak and scared. I couldn't help but to react in a way that didn't resemble someone with the most sound of mind.

"I didn't say that and yew know I don't think it." Daryl was talking to me slowly, watching me carefully.

"Why do you even ask?"

"Fuck, Jules, because I care."

I scoffed, feeling my mean streak start to boil inside of me. "Well you don't know a damn thing about it."

He stood up, stepping in front of me. "I understand what you tell me."

"Right," I said under my breath. I bent over and grabbed the shorts I was wearing last night.

"What?" He asked.

I threw my tank top over my head. "If I didn't fuck you so good after I cry in your arms, you wouldn't give a shit."

Daryl ran his hands over his tired face and scoffed. "This again? I'm fuckin' tired of this conversation." He watched me slip on my shorts before he said another word. "For someone so smart and pretty, yew have no idea what you're worth. It's like yew're all fuckin' confused." He stood silent, as if realizing that's something I struggled with- not just being a product of my generation, but also a product of my mother's mental disorder that had shaped my own mental health.

I stared at him, not sure what to say.

"I'll have to tell yew more." He said softly and ran his hands down my arms.

Suddenly, the anger and distress I was feeling started to dissipate and it left me feeling silly and embarrassed "I'm sorry," I whispered, looking at my feet. "I don't know why I get this way."

"You don't need to apologize." He put his index finger under my chin and gently lifted it towards him. "I worry about yew because I care, kid."

I nodded, fighting back tears that were starting to burn my eyes. "I know."

"I think about yew all the time, even when yew've pissed me off and shit."

I nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck. "You don't have to put up with me, you know?"

He wrapped his strong arms around me, breathing in my scent. "I ain't just puttin' up with yew," he said into my ear. "I need yew around."

"Not as much as I need you," I said meekly.

"Yew'd be surprised."

"I won't always be this way," I said, hoping it was true.

Daryl stood arm's length away from me and knelt down so that we were eye to eye. "There ain't nothin' wrong with yew, Juliet."

I put my thumb nail in my mouth and stared into his eyes. The amount of emotional support he was giving me in that moment blew me away. No one- not even my father- knew how to make me feel safe. He hadn't been coaxed by a therapist or read twenty books on the subject. He was speaking from his heart, from the only truth he knew, and it meant the world to me.

I wrapped myself around him and let out a small cry. "Thank you."

He pulled me closer into him and stroked my hair with his big, calloused hands. I had never felt safer than I did in that moment- it didn't matter that Merle was still drunk from last night yelling at a guy in their front yard for owing him money or that there was a meth house down the road in mid cook. Daryl wouldn't let either or those things touch me or, if he could, bring me back to reality when I felt the entire world was caving in on me.

...

"Wake up, you stupid bitch," Nate's voice rang in my ear.

I forced my eyes open to see him still standing over me. I tried to gather my thoughts as I pushed myself up.

"I didn't even hit you that hard."

I attempted to brush the dirt and blood off my face, which didn't seem to be helping since my hand was also covered in dirt and dried blood. "How long was I out?" I asked when I was able to form a sentence.

"About ten minutes."

I looked around to see Daryl, Rick and the others, Negan, and the saviors walking back to the van. I knew there was no chance of escaping now. My shoulders dropped as I looked at Nate. He knew Negan had spotted us so he grabbed my arm and pulled me around to the front.

"This is one off of a place you got here," Negan was telling Rick.

As I was being pulled to the front of the van, I looked to my side to see Michonne. We made eye contact and I shook my head. There was no use in trying now. She looked defeated as well, her head hanging low.

"Give me a second, please," RIck said when he saw Michonne.

Negan nodded in agreement and then he turned to look at me. "Well, damn, what happened to you?"

Rick's jaw clenched and unclenched as he saw me. I kept my face down, but glanced up to make eye contact the moment he walked by. Negan's precious bat was in Rick's hand- that sick son of a bitch made him hold on to it for him. I felt Rick turn and look, but I stayed facing Negan.

Nate chuckled, wiping his hands clean of the dirt that covered me. "She thought she could pull one over on me."

I shot Daryl an apologetic look once I saw him emerge from the saviors. He tried to step closer to me when he was stopped by several of them.

"Didn't even have to use the gun. Thought you'd like her alive more than dead."

I shot Nate a look. He was smarter than I thought. Negan obviously hadn't wanted me dead, but for some reason didn't trust either Nate's call or knew I would try to escape and still wanted me alive. Then it made sense. Negan was going to try to use me to break Daryl. He needed me- he needed to use me to get Daryl to utter those words he was so desperate to hear. But how?

"You thought right, Nate," he smiled and turned to face our people. "I have good men- and women- working for me. I could kill her right now, where she stands to make a point, but I'm not. All because my man, Nate here, made the right call. Who am I to go back on that?" Negan gestured for me to come closer to him, which I obliged.

I could feel Darly's intense eyes on me, I turned to mouth 'I'm sorry' as I passed him.

"Do you agree with that, Juliet?" He asked.

Rick joined Negan's side with a rifle, stopping the show before it had a chance to start. "She was out hunting, not scavenging. Here's this rifle to hopefully makeup for what happened today."

Negan took the rifle from Rick. "Look at this," he smiled. "I like this. This is something to build a relationship on. Good for you, Rick. Way to read the room and get the message. You sir, are special."

"Now that you know we can follow your rules…"

"Yes?" Negan said, intrigued.

"I'd like to ask you if you'd let Daryl and Juliet stay."

"Not happening," Negan answered without missing a beat.

Rick gave me an apologetic look and then turned to Negan.

"You know what. Not both of them. You can have Daryl, if he can sway me. If Daryl can plead his case."

I turned to Daryl and he averted his eyes from me, from Rick, and from Negan. He remained silent.

I tried to get his attention, but his eyes remained fixated on the ground.

Negan laughed. "You tried," he said to Rick before turning to Nate. "Get her back in the van, just so she doesn't get any more ideas."

Nate grabbed my arm so suddenly that I had to grab onto the side of the van to steady myself.

"Careful with her," Daryl said, his tone agitated.

Nate narrowed his eyes at Daryl and jerked me behind the van.

"Take it easy," I said when he shoved me into the back of the van.

Nate followed me in and closed the door behind him. "You stupid, fucking bitch."

I leaned back against the seat, taking a few deep breaths. My head was still spinning and I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared of what Negan might do. "You've said that a few times already. Having trouble thinking up something else?" I paused. "I'd be more concerned why Negan gave you an unloaded gun. I mean, I suppose it did save your life."

He leaned forward so that his face was an inch from mine. "Don't you think I won't forget that. You tried to kill me. You're going to be sorry you did that."

Suddenly, the van door swung open, revealing Negan, three other saviors, and Daryl. Nate sat down, opposite from me.

"I'm sensing some tension," Negan smiled as he sat down next to Nate.

Daryl was able to get a spot next to me and I could sense his rage.

"Want to tell me what it was about?"

"Just had to remind her of her place, nothing more."

I bit inside of my cheek and looked at Negan.

"Nothing to add, Jules?" He waited for a response, but when I stayed quiet, he shrugged. "Isn't really your style, but okay." He leaned forward.

"That's going to leave a mark," he said as he pulled out a clean towel. Tossing the towel to Daryl, Negan made his way to the front. "Keep your guns on 'em," Negan said.

Daryl looked down at the towel in his hands, obviously not believing that Negan had offered us some sort of kindness, especially after what had just happened.

I turned to Daryl, showing him the extent of the cut along my forehead.

His expression turned from a hardened hatred into something more gentle, almost sad.

"This wasn't your fault," I whispered.

"Your bitch is-" Nate started.

"Hey," Negan said, interrupting him. "It's over, unless you want to elaborate."

Daryl gritted his teeth as he looked at Nate. If it were any differently, Daryl would have killed him on the spot. Daryl's eyes slowly made it back to me and he carefully began to wipe the blood and dirt off my face.

I reveled in the contact between the two of us. His touch was tender and until he was touching me, I didn't realize how much I needed it. I put my own hands on his and pressed my forehead against his.

"Hey," Nate said as he slapped my hand with his gun.

Daryl pushed Nate's gun away from me, but before he could say anything, Negan interjected. "Give them a minute, Nate. You obviously traumatized the poor girl." His uncharacteristic mood didn't go unnoticed by either one of us, but Daryl was too tired and my head was still too spinny to give it another thought. At least in that moment, we would focus on being able to have this time. With him this close and touching me, I could bring in the faint smell of rain that Daryl always possessed. It was soothing and beyond comforting to close my eyes and get lost in his scent.

Daryl went back to cleaning my forehead and I went back to staring into his crystal clear blue eyes. Finding something to focus on was keeping me from puking again.

There was so much I wanted to say, but with the ears around, I knew it wasn't possible.

"Almost as good as new," Daryl said softly once he had cleaned me up as good as was to be expected. "She needs to see a doctor," he said to Negan.

"Noted," was the reply.

Daryl pulled me into his chest and for the first time since the night Glenn and Abraham were killed, I felt safe. Nestling my face into the crook of Daryl's neck, I took a deep breath. "I love you," I said as quietly as possible.

Daryl held me tighter in response.

We were allowed to stay in that same position for the entire drive back. Once we came to a stop, Negan got out of the front and said something to another savior waiting at the entrance. Once the door swung open, I was nearly ripped out of Daryl's arms by a savior who went by the name of Spike. He was nearly six foot six and weighed a good three hundred pounds, so when he was in motion, it was nearly impossible to stop him.

A small whimper escaped my lips as Spike's hands yanked me from my seat.

"Hey!" Daryl yelled as he followed us out of the van.

Negan was standing waiting for Daryl's reaction with his bat in his hands. "You stop here," he said.

I elbowed Spike in the ribs in an attempt to get free from his grasp. He chuckled and held onto my shoulders even tighter.

"She's hurt," Daryl said looking at Negan.

"Easy with her," Negan said. "She ain't going anywhere. Are you?"

I kept eye contact with Daryl until Negan yelled at me to answer.

"No."

He grinned. "Didn't think so." He brought his attention back to Daryl. "You know, you can take care of her. Make sure she gets enough rest and enough to eat. Hell, you can even fuck her and stay the night."

Daryl didn't say anything.

"Would you like that?"

"What kind of question is that?" He asked.

Negan's smile grew into something more sinister. "You can lie next to her tonight and for all foreseeable nights to come." He paused for dramatic effect. "Look at her, Daryl. Look how scared she looks right now."

I didn't realize until that moment that my eyes were burning with tears and one had slipped down my cheek. I looked down, biting my lip. I didn't know how much the day had taken a toll on me. I wasn't going to make it much longer here, not how we were living. I couldn't ask Daryl to say the words and I loved him for how brave and strong he was, but it was breaking me.

Negan put an arm around my shoulders. "Go ahead, darling, ask him to say it."

I kept my head down and couldn't even open my mouth to breathe, because I was worried that if I did, I would ask him.

"Look at him, Juliet." I tried to shrug Negan off, but he kept a firm hold around my shoulders. "Go ahead."

I unwillingly did as Negan had directed. When my eyes locked in on Daryl's, I could see the desperateness and sadness that had overwhelmingly taken over his expression. I felt so incredibly guilty in that moment that I had to kneel down to keep from falling. Once my palms were planted firmly on the ground, I felt a wave of nausea take over.

"She's not looking so good, Daryl. Almost as bad as the widow."

I bawled my fist into the dirt, anger surging through me at the mention of that night.

Negan knelt down beside me. "It might be a bad time to tell you, but she didn't make it."

My eyes darted from my fists to Daryl, looking for an answer.

Daryl went to reach out to me, but Nate stopped him.

"Is it true?" I asked him.

Daryl gave me a single, slow nod. His eyes showed a level of distraught but he was managing himself, where I was having a breakdown.

Before I could try to stabilize myself, I leaned forward and vomited to the side. Hot tears ran down my cheeks, and I felt the wound on my forehead open up.

"Help her to the infirmary," Negan said to Spike.

Spike pulled me to my feet as I wiped my mouth with the back of my head, feeling incredibly defeated. How had Maggie died? Could she not go on without Glenn? Was she too far gone that night?

"You can go with her," Negan said.

Daryl made a step towards me and I let out a sigh of relief.

"If," Negan added quickly. "You say the word."

Daryl stopped dead in his tracks with balled fists. Rage swept over his face as he looked at Negan.

Taking all that I had, I put my hand on his chest. "I'm okay," I said softly.

Daryl put his hand over mine before Nate and another savior pulled him backwards. I looked over my shoulder at Daryl as I was escorted to the infirmary. He looked just as angry as he had moments earlier as Negan spoke to him. I was too far away to hear what he was saying to Daryl.

I fought back tears, finally coming to the realization that this could be how we live from now on. I had thought once we stepped foot in Alexandria again, Rick would have some plan to keep us from returning here. Or it would all fall into place and we would make it out alive. I felt trapped and alone, and fighting off my mental disorder was proving to be more difficult than I thought.