Bit of imagination and a large pinch of salt probably required for this one, but... here it (finally) is.

Chapter 71 – Nine lives

Daryl felt like he was watching it all in slow motion.

The windowed wall was solid until it wasn't – bursting into tiny pieces that caught rainbows from the mid-morning sun as they sprinkled down around Aiden terrified and tumbling through the open space.

Then Tahlia, too.

It seemed to happen so slowly that Daryl almost believed he might be able to zip across the room and catch her before she disappeared, and he was already on the move when they locked eyes for a second, just a second, and then she was gone. His stomach lurched into his chest and his world bottomed out (how the fuck could this be happening, after everything they'd just been through?!). It was little consolation knowing that they were only on the second story so the fall probably wouldn't kill her - because the walkers in the fenced lot below certainly would.

Two thuds sounded in quick succession, and then came the screams.

They weren't Tahlia's though, and whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, Daryl was yet to find out. Vaulting over a table, he slammed his knife through the skull of a lone walker in his way, then skidded through the glass peppering the floor to peer out the airy space. Dangerously close to the edge, he immediately dropped to his knees and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"Daryl?!" Tara called in panic as she and Glenn both ran to join him. "Daryl?!"

Drawing his hands slowly down over his face until the tips of his fingers were pressing against his mouth, Daryl puffed out a forceful exhale just as Tara reached him, and she leaned over him to gaze below.

"Fucking hell." she breathed, clapping her hand down onto his shoulder. "Fucking hell."

Tahlia wasn't good with heights at the best of times, but she did appreciate the fact that it all happened so quickly she never got the chance to look down.

The jarring thump of impact hadn't hurt as much as she thought it would – in fact, it had almost felt soft. The unexpectedness of that might have been enough for her to believe she was dead, had it not been for the fact that the wind had been knocked out of her and she hovered for a long, burning moment in the painful inability to draw a breath (she was fairly certain that breathing wasn't a necessity in the afterlife).

When she finally managed to gasp in a little air, she could practically taste the fetid stench that was hanging around her. The backs of her hands were still pressed to her face, but she was putting off opening her eyes because she could feel the weight of the walker that had fallen with her pinning her down, and she was hanging onto the irrational hope that if she couldn't see it, then it couldn't see her.

But the sickening anticipation of having a chunk taken out of her at any moment was too much, so she took a hesitant peek.

Through the gaps in her fingers she could see one milky, bloodshot eye staring right down at her and she would have recoiled had she been able to move. But it didn't move either, and only then she realized that she was still clutching the base of the paper spike she'd grabbed from the table in her hand, and the metal spike had driven into the walker's other eye, the impact of the fall embedding it firmly in its brain. Tahlia breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short lived because then she noticed the screams and the unmistakable squelch and slurp of the undead feasting.

Aiden.

That meant they'd be coming for her, too. But why couldn't she see him? See them?

She could, however, see Daryl (looking pale and completely stricken), Glenn and Tara gazing down at her from the edge of the building.

"Damn!" muttered Glenn, shaking his head in disbelief, "She must have some serious sway with the man upstairs because that is divine intervention right there."

As a general rule, Daryl didn't place a shred of belief in higher powers of any sort, however, given the current situation, he was inclined to agree with Glenn and was silently thanking any and every damned deity that was listening. Below in the inward goods lot, as well as the trucks and the walkers, there were two large dumpsters filled to the brim with discarded packaging materials - one just outside the loading bay entrance, and the second directly below this broken window - and by some miracle, Tahlia had landed in the middle of it on a pile of soft plastics and rotting, flattened cardboard.

"You ok, Tahly?!" called Tara, and when Tahlia wriggled out a little from under the walker and gave her a thumbs up and wide grin in response, Tara couldn't help but return it.

Aiden, however, hadn't been so lucky. He had just missed the dumpster and was splayed on the ground off to the side, his leg bent at an unnatural angle and a swarm of walkers pulling his insides out like tissue paper. Despite the animosity between them, Glenn wouldn't wish that kind of suffering on anyone, so, gritting his teeth he raised his gun, took careful aim and silenced Aiden's cries.

The sound of the shot snapped Daryl back to the present, and the staggering relief he'd felt with the realization that (once again) Tahlia was not lost to him, gave way to bubbling ire as he caught sight of Nicholas tentatively peering over the edge at the scene below in horror.

Daryl jumped to his feet and with two long strides was in front of Nicholas, and he shoved him hard in the chest.

"The FUCK is wrong with you?!" he exploded, livid. "Knew ya were bad fuckin' news! YOU caused this whole fuckin' THING! See that?!" He grabbed a handful of Nicholas' shirt and dragged him, trembling and resisting, closer to the edge, forcing him to look below at Aiden's lifeless, shredded body. "That's on you! He's dead coz of YOU! And you are goddamned fuckin' LUCKY that she ain't, otherwise I'da thrown ya straight out to join 'em!"

Still fuming, Daryl opened his mouth to add something else, but instead snapped it shut and let out a furious growl before taking one step closer to Nicholas and headbutting him forcefully across the bridge of his nose. Falling onto his ass with a yelp of pain, Nicholas clutched at his broken nose, rivulets of blood spilling down the front of his shirt as he whimpered quietly. Glenn gave Daryl a nod – that was a lot less than what Nicholas deserved after the shit show he'd caused, and they all knew it.

Leaning back out over the edge, Daryl gazed down at Tahlia. Drawn by Aiden, most of the walkers had now congregated around the dumpster, but the sides came nearly to the tops of their heads and they couldn't see her – and perhaps the body on top of her was concealing her too.

"Tahly!" he called. "Don't do nothin', don't move, don't make no noise. Gonna come get ya." Then he turned to the others. "Goin' downstairs to figure out how to get her outta there."

"Yeah, let's go." said Glenn, then he looked around. "Wait, where's Eugene?"

"Oh shit!" Tara jogged over to the supply cupboard, only just remembering that she'd shut him in there.

Inside the large cupboard, Eugene was standing next to several neatly stacked boxes.

"Bingo." he said, indicating the haul.

"Great! We'll come back up for that. First... we've got another job to do real quick. Come on."

Confused, Eugene obediently followed Tara back across the room, starting when he noticed the smashed window.

"I am fairly certain that frame contained a pane of glass when we arrived. What happened?"

"Probably easiest if you just take a look for yourself." Tara told him grimly.

Cautiously creeping to the edge, Eugene peered out. He flicked a tentative wave at Tahlia, then blanched when he caught sight of Aiden. Scurrying back to the others who were waiting in the clear and quiet corridor, he noted Nicholas' bloodied face with raised brows, but said nothing further as they all made their way back to the stairs.

Daryl's voice was low but dangerous when he turned to Nicholas and said, "Stick with us. Don't try nothin'. You put one fuckin' finger outta line - I'ma kill ya."

Eyes wide in terror, Nicholas just nodded his head.

At the bottom of the staircase, two lazily snapping walkers were sprawled on the floor and Glenn put them down easily before jumping over their bodies into the empty foyer.

He quickly scanned the area. "Seems like it's all clear down here."

"'Kay, let's try this door." Daryl moved towards the door in the centre of the corridor. "Looks like this one'll be right below where we were."

The fact that the door was locked didn't deter him, and with several well-placed, forceful kicks, he soon booted it open.

Glenn and Tara dashed in first - only three of the undead in this room which they made short work of, then glanced around the space. This room was of a similar size to the one above, but instead of tables there were computer stations. The brick clad outer walls were inlaid with three sets of windows that were around three feet high and five wide, their sills about five feet from the floor. Daryl immediately ran to the middle set and peered out.

"There."

The dumpster was just off to the side of the window and at least two yards away from the wall. Whirling around, Daryl swept a monitor and equipment off the nearest desk and dragged it to the window, then jumping up onto the desk he used the butt of his crossbow to smash through the panes and clear the glass, ignoring the slavering walkers who came stumbling over, hands slapping on the brick sill.

Climbing up next to him, Glenn looked dubiously out at the five deep crowd between the building and the dumpster. "What… you think she could just… jump? Or something?"

Daryl frowned. There was no way that he'd even consider letting Tahlia attempt that.

Glancing around the room for inspiration, finally his eyes alighted on the metal shelving unit along the back wall. Wordlessly, he jumped off the table and jogged to the shelves, toppling the lot to the ground and kicking the brackets and posts away. He dragged one of the shelves back to the window, his plan now clear.

"A bridge?" asked Tara nervously.

"Somethin' like that."

"Think it'll hold?"

Daryl appraised the piece of metal for a moment chewing his lip, then jogged to the back of the room and returned with another shelf. "We'll use two. One on top of the other."

"But…" Tara gestured to the hands reaching in the window space. "They'll just pull it straight down!"

"We need to distract them. Get them away from there." supplied Glenn. "Any ideas?"

Daryl swiveled a hard look to Nicholas. He wouldn't be averse to throwing that asshole out there and letting him run diversion. As if Nicholas had read his mind, he gave a loud gulp and shrank back, hands visibly shaking.

Then, from the sister shelving unit next to the one that Daryl had pulled down, Eugene spoke up.

"Lightbulb moment."

"What?"

He pointed to the rows of laptop-length lidded plastic cubes lining the unit that were used to organize various technological fixings and other bits and pieces. Picking up one of the boxes, Eugene popped the lid and emptied the contents straight onto the floor before twirling the box in his hands and shooting a glance up at Daryl.

"Smoke alarms."

Daryl's impatient glare was intimidating enough for Eugene to quickly stumble into an explanation.

"Smoke alarms…" he repeated as he pointed to the little white device mounted in the corner of the room. "One in every room and four in the corridor. Battery operated. Assuming the batteries are still juiced up and functional, my proposal is that we take a scrunching of paper from the copious supply of textbooks, place it in each box accompanied by an alarm. Ignite said scrunch, lid it up then throw the box out into the walker-fest, drawing the dead to the beep of the alarms and buying enough time to stage the rescue mission."

Daryl stared at him for a long moment. "That's a fuckin' good idea."

A scattering of minutes passed as they emptied five boxes and half-filled them with crumpled paper and sourced five smoke alarms, placing one in each box.

"Won't the fire melt the plastic?" worried Glenn. "And won't the fire go out when you shut the lid?"

"Affirmative to both." replied Eugene. "But we only require enough smoke to keep the alarms sounding long enough to move the dead away from the dumpster."

Daryl nodded. "Gonna do this real quick. Tara, take these two metal brackets and head outside to them gates by the loading bay then rattle 'em up and make as much noise as ya can. When we hear ya start to do that, we'll light these. Glenn – take these two boxes to the far window down the other end of the room, you're gonna chuck 'em out towards the corner of the lot. Eugene, these two to the other window, throw 'em in the other direction. I'll toss this last one beyond the dumpster, then we'll place the bridge, and I'ma go over and get her."

As Tara darted out the door, Nicholas wrung his hands. "And what should… what should I do?"

"Fuckin' nothin'." snapped Daryl. "Goddamn done enough."

Less than a minute later they could hear Tara clanging the gates with the brackets and shouting at the top of her lungs.

"Here's to the hope that there aren't too many walkers in the woods and surrounds. Draw them all to her with that hullaballoo." muttered Eugene, and Glenn and Daryl exchanged a worried look.

"Let's hurry up."

With Daryl's lighter in hand, Glenn touched the flame to the pile of paper in his boxes then tossed the lighter across to Daryl who did the same before flicking it to Eugene for a repeat. Letting the paper curl and smolder for a few seconds, the sensitive alarms started to beep insistently, continuing even after the boxes were lidded and flung carefully out into the lot, drawing the attention of the walkers who started to stagger away from the dumpster with interest. Glenn skidded across the room towards Daryl, and together they heaved the long metal shelf up and out of the window, carefully angling it to rest on the brick window ledge and then fed it towards the dumpster where they managed to rest it on the top corner before quickly sliding the second shelf on top of the first for extra support.

"Should have secured it with tape or something." realized Glenn, glancing around to see if he could spot any.

"No time now." said Daryl as he awkwardly maneuvered himself out onto the window ledge and placed a foot on the shelf-bridge.

Although Glenn and Eugene were holding their end firmly, Glenn grimaced as the shelves wobbled dangerously. "It's not very steady!"

That observation was no help to Daryl who was already halfway across the makeshift bridge, and took one more precarious step before throwing himself into the dumpster. Sinking into the cardboard, he wasted no time clambering towards Tahlia, rolling the dead body off her then scooping her straight into his arms.

"Tahly!" he breathed, clutching her tightly for a second before dropping her back down and running his hands over her body in concern. "Ya hurt?"

"I think…" Tahlia wiggled her limbs. "I think I'm ok."

Daryl sucked on his lips and shook his head. "I am fuckin' lockin' you up!"

"That was not my fault!" Tahlia insisted as Daryl pulled her to her knees. "I wasn't doing dumb shit or even trying to save anyone!"

"Don't care." he maintained, hoisting her to her feet now. "Straight in that damn tower, Rapunzel. You're gonna be the death of me. Can ya walk ok?"

Tahlia grimaced as she took a step, fingers of sharp pain shooting out from her spine. Daryl was watching her like a hawk and immediately tightened his grip around her waist.

"I'll-"

"No!" Tahlia shoved at him with a smile as she wriggled her shoulders and arched her back. "You are not carrying me! Just a little sore, but I'm ok."

Gingerly, she moved closer to the edge of the dumpster, then caught sight of Aiden, a few walkers still scooping messily at his torn stomach cavity.

"Oh."

Daryl gave her a grave look followed by a gentle push. "C'mon. We gotta-"

Just then, a walker banged straight into the shelf-bridge, knocking the end off the corner of the dumpster, the bottom shelf clattering loudly to the asphalt. Eugene and Glenn had managed to keep their grip on the top shelf, and muttering curses, Glenn angled the shelf back towards the dumpster where Daryl caught the end and rested it on the lip once again.

"Think that will hold?" asked Glenn worriedly from the window. "Shall I go get another one?"

Glancing warily at several walkers that were fast making their way towards them, Daryl shook his head. "It'll hold. C'mon, girl."

Moving to the edge of the dumpster, Tahlia gave a muted squeal as the packaging below her suddenly gave way and she found herself sinking waist deep, trying hard not to imagine what else might be in there. Grabbing her arm, Daryl unceremoniously hauled her back up, then leaned one forearm securely on the end of the shelf, and held onto her as she climbed up onto the edge of the dumpster. A group of rasping, hungry walkers were now at the shelf pushing and grabbing at the sides, but between them, the men were able to hold it fast.

"Just run, girl. Straight to Glenn."

Tahlia, still feeling a little unsteady, wasn't highly confident in her normally excellent balance, but the dumpster edge was nearly a foot higher than the window ledge, and the shelf sloped downwards – she hoped that would work in her favour. Before she could psych herself out, she went for it, moving her feet fast enough to evade the grasping hands, then she launched herself in through the window and Glenn attempted to catch her, both of them toppling straight to the ground.

Glenn grinned up at her. "You got nine lives, you know that?"

"I think I might be onto my last one." breathed Tahlia, heart still hammering in her chest.

Hurriedly, they pushed themselves to their feet, and Glenn grabbed the end of the shelf again.

"Now you, Daryl!" he called. "Come on!"

At the far window, Nicholas had started tossing anything heavy he could find out into the lot in an attempt to distract the growing mass of the undead that were gathering around the dumpster again, and Tahlia grabbed Glenn's gun, taking careful aim and putting the last four bullets to good use, while Daryl positioned himself on the end of the bridge. Glenn and Eugene were holding the shelf as steady as they could manage, but without someone securing the other end, it started to shift back and forth under the press of the walkers on either side. Daryl took another tentative step and the shelf scraped dangerously close to the corner of the dumpster, causing Daryl to nearly lose his balance.

"Just fucking jump!" shouted Tahlia in a panic as she threw Glenn's now empty gun to the ground and scrambled up onto the table, ready to throw herself into the skirmish if Daryl went down.

As Daryl took another step and made to leap, an undead hand fastened around his ankle, and the shelf buckled under his weight. He managed to kick free just as the shelf fell, and he dove for the window, catching onto the ledge, Glenn and Eugene grabbing his shoulders. The walkers outside slapped and scratched at his legs, and Daryl kicked wildly to keep them at bay. Finding purchase with his foot on one's shoulder, Daryl pushed himself up and Glenn and Eugene managed to drag him the rest of the way through the window unscathed, and all three collapsed onto the ground, panting heavily.

"Holy shit." murmured Glenn, running his hands through his hair. "That was close."

Grunting in agreement, Daryl had only just sat up when Tahlia flung herself at him, knocking him to the ground again as she buried her face in his neck.

"I think I want to lock you up, too." she said, her voice wobbly and muffled against his skin.

"Straight to the tower." he whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around her and squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.

Then Eugene's voice pulled them back to the present.

"Perhaps someone should let Tara know she can put a lid on all that hollering now."

It took two trips for them to bring all the boxes out to the van, and all the loading was done in near silence. Nicholas had attempted to apologise to Tahlia, but Daryl had shoved him away and threatened to rip his arms off and beat him to death with them if he came near her again, and after that, no one felt much like talking.

Except for Eugene.

He appeared with one last box loaded with folders.

"Manuals, research, a wealth of information here that will be beneficial for future-proofing Alexandria. I also stumbled upon a most interesting paper on the non-equilibrium properties of nano-scale material structures – that will purely be pleasurable bedtime reading for yours truly, however-"

"Eugene." Glenn said wearily, cutting him off. "Later, ok? Get in."

Eugene squeezed between the boxes in the back of the van with Tara and Nicholas, and Glenn – who was having red-rage thoughts every time he laid eyes on the latter – opted to sit in the passenger seat, Tahlia next to him and Daryl at the wheel.

There was a brief unpleasant moment when they realized that the keys were still in Aiden's pocket, but Daryl made quick work of hotwiring the van and soon they were back out on the road.

The silence lay thick around them and Tahlia wanted to disperse it with conversation, wanted to talk over the gut-tipping falling-flashbacks that kept startling her every so often, but Daryl was concentrating intently on the road and their surroundings, determined to avoid any mishaps on the journey home; Glenn was staring out his window, mouth drawn in a tight line, fists clenched in his lap; and the rattle of the engine was too noisy for the others in the back to hear anything she said. Eyeing up the CD wallet on the floor in front of her, she considered putting some music on, but given that the CDs belonged to Aiden, she figured that would probably be in bad taste, and resigned herself to the heavy quiet and the weight of the run. As if Daryl could sense she needed connection, anchoring, he reached for her hand and ducked his lips to her knuckles before resting their hands on her lap and thumbing slow, small circles on her thigh, feeling her relax gratefully against him.

They were all thankful when, in the early afternoon, without incident, the walls of Alexandria appeared in front of them and they were soon able to climb out of the van and stretch their legs and let go of a little tension as the gates closed behind them.

Daryl scrubbed the heel of his hand into his eye before turning to Tahlia. "Tahly, go see Denise."

She gazed up at him, then waved dismissively. "I'm fine, honestly, I just-"

"Please." he entreated, his voice low. "Just get checked. Please just…"

"Ok." she agreed at his serious tone. "Ok, sure."

"I'll take her." offered Tara, appearing at their side and linking her arm through Tahlia's.

"Good." nodded Daryl. "I'm gonna go talk to Rick. And Deanna. Let 'em know what happened. See y'at home later, 'kay?"

After filling Rick in on the events of the day, a difficult conversation with Deanna, and helping to unload the van, Daryl did head home to find Tahlia, but through the lounge window he could see her on the sofa - Michonne, Eric, Aaron and Carol sitting in the room with her, drinking tea and talking. He wasn't in the mood for more people, more talk, so he sloped off out the back gate and into the woods.

There was a memorial service for Aiden that evening in the church, a quiet, somber affair led by Gabriel with a wrecked Deanna and Reg by his side. The community had lost people before, but the death of Aiden seemed to hit everyone hard – that cocky, confident boy who had been part of Alexandria's founding family had seemed untouchable, but here was proof that no one was safe, that nothing was certain.

Afterwards, when they raised a glass to Aiden's memory, Tahlia saw Daryl slipping out the side door, and as soon as she was able to excuse herself, she followed after him.

The moon was obscured by heavy cloud, and Tahlia wandered the dimly lit streets for a good ten minutes before spotting a small glowing ember down by the pond.

"Finally found you." she said softly, sinking down to sit next to him on the damp grass. "You ok?"

Daryl just shrugged and handed her his cigarette, his eyes fixed on the gently rippling surface of the water. She took a deep inhale and waited patiently for him to speak.

Eventually, he did.

"Coulda been you. Coulda been havin' a fuckin' memorial for you tonight, too."

Tahlia nodded into the darkness. "I'm still here, though."

"Yeah?" he snapped, "But for how long?"

"How long for any of us?" she replied quietly. "This is what our world is like now. It's dangerous, we risk our lives every day. We've all had a lot of close calls, but this is what we do. It would be so much worse to hide away and cower, to let other people die for us."

Daryl sighed, softening. "Just don't know how many more times I can stand seein' shit happen to ya."

"Well," shrugged Tahlia, "Stop watching then. Shut your eyes next time."

Daryl stared at her for a moment, aghast, then gave a growl and caught her in a headlock, making her giggle.

"Trust you to say somethin' like that! Here I am in pieces thinkin' I nearly lost y'again, and you're makin' fuckin' jokes!"

Dropping his arm to her shoulders, he grabbed the cigarette out of her hands and jammed it in his mouth, although he was unable to help the smile that curled around it. It was impossible to wallow in worry for too long around her.

Resting her head on his shoulder and tucking her hand under his thigh, Tahlia spoke again. "Let's not think too much about the 'what-might-have-beens' and just enjoy what we've got while we've got it, because you never know what's around the corner. Gather ye rosebuds, and all that."

"Gather what now?"

Tahlia sat up, crossing her legs, her eyes dancing in the moonlight. "It's from a poem. Strictly speaking, it was intended for a different audience, but loosely, it's a carpe diem message - enjoy shit while you can before everything goes tits up."

Daryl grinned at her paraphrasing. "Grab life by the balls?"

"Yeah!" laughed Tahlia. "Live fierce! Don't put shit off! Never be afraid!"

Suddenly Daryl went rigid and he wrapped his arms around his bent knees, his expression sobering.

Even in the low light, Tahlia saw the change in him immediately and the smile quickly faded from her face.

"Ooh shit, sorry was that was too much? That get too philosophical for you?"

"Naw. It ain't… it's just…" Then Daryl stood up, crushing his cigarette under his boot.

Tahlia quickly followed suit, jumping to her feet. "Wanna go home?"

He gazed down at her, a strange glint in his eye, an unreadable expression on his face. "Naw. I… I just gotta... go do somethin'. Be home later, 'kay? Don't wait up."

Then, with a brief squeeze of her waist and a briefer kiss on her lips, he was gone, and she was left wondering what the hell she'd said.

The poem referenced is 'To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time' by Robert Herrick.