Ok, so I finally watched the new season of Walking Dead and it wrecked me. I just can't. Honestly, it made it really difficult to write the next chapter, as I had to consider if I wanted it to impact my story or not and just had to recover a bit. On the other hand, I love Daryl and Dog, so I might write Dog into the story without following the plot of the later episodes.

But, after toil and trouble, here is the next chapter and it contains mostly feels. Very emotional chapter and 90% Daryl's PoV, with him figuring stuff out. Thanks for all the favourites and follows and thank you to celia azul, BlueBloodsSVUOrder, .2019 and Leigh for reviewing!

Enjoy!

Chapter 35

Daryl grunted as he slammed the pipe into Fat Joey's skull, red decorating his makeshift weapon.

"Daryl!"

He grunted and slammed it down again, rage pushing him further than he would go normally. He had been drowning in apathy for so long that he felt overwhelmed with his anger now, lashing out at anything and anyone. Where he had wanted to die before, Carl's words now restored strength and vitality to his life.

Mika

Anamika

She is alive

The sharp wave of joy that rushed through him with Carl's coded message had soon been overshadowed by a burning determination to escape from the Sanctuary, followed by fury as vast as the forest; at Dwight for everything he did to him, at the saviors for blindly following Negan and at Negan, for almost killing Anamika and killing Abraham. So when the note was slipped under his door that said 'Go now', he didn't hesitate.

Which lead to him now, bashing Fat Joey's brains in, his body trembling in rage.

"Daryl!" He looked up, finally acknowledging Jesus and stepping back as he breathed hard, glancing at his handiwork before looking at Jesus' shocked expression.

"It ain't just about gettin' by here. It's about gettin' it all... I got the key. Let's go." He swung his leg over his bike, Jesus getting on behind him as he started the motorcycle and sped out of the compound. The wind blowing past him, the utter freedom he had on the bike, relaxed his body in a way he hadn't relaxed since Anamika came back to Alexandria with a cut throat. He knew he couldn't go back to Alexandria, as that would be the first place Negan looked for him and seeing as Jesus was here, he knew he would go to the Hilltop. The fact that the Hilltop had a doctor and would thus be where Anamika most likely was, also made him more excited to get there. He listened to Jesus' shouted directions until he reached an area he recognized and then sped up, knowing they were close to the community.

Soon the tall wooden walls came into view and he heard a shout and raised voices from within, before the gates opened to admit him and Jesus. He parked the bike and was immediately surrounded by Maggie, Glenn, Sasha and Enid, the other Hilltop residents coming closer but still keeping their distance.

"Daryl!" He accepted Maggie's hug, though he hid his face in embarrassment as the pregnant woman sniffled. Glenn was smiling and clapping his shoulder, while Sasha smiled as she moved closer, touching his arm before standing back. He could barely look her in the eye, knowing that Negan had killed Abraham, who was trying to save Anamika. The fact that her man died to save his girl made him feel guilty, useless and unworthy all at the same time. He could see the pain in her eyes and it distracted him from Maggie's words and Jesus' replies. It was only when Glenn addressed him, smiling widely, that he drew himself out of his self loathing.

"Daryl. I think there's someone who's been waiting to see you." He looked up to where Glenn was gesturing, the people between him and her parting and affording him his first view of her.

He had known, logically, whom Glenn was referring to and knew, logically, that she should be here, but it wasn't until he saw her, met her blue eyes framed by curling auburn hair that was cut haphazardly on the one side, that his heart caught up.

Anamika's familiar gaze met his, her eyes shining with emotion and her skin flushed with life as she paused, seemingly rooted to the spot. As if in a daze, he got off his bike, walking towards her, jogging towards her, running towards her, not able to stand the distance between them. When his arms wrapped around her body and her warmth sunk into him, he felt like a puppet that had their strings cut, as his entire body slumped in relief and quivered, clutching her so close that not even a millimetre of space existed between their bodies. He was aware of her arms wrapping around him, of him crying into her hair as their bodies trembled together, of her hot tears against his neck.

He opened his eyes, turning his head to the side to see where Negan's blow had glanced off her skull, the ugly bruise and long row of stitches. His breath hitched and he held her tighter, his lips gently pressing against her hair as he convinced himself that she wouldn't disappear. He was finally home and nothing would take her from him again.

While he was content to just hold her, to make sure he could feel her breathing in his arms, he felt her move back and reluctantly let go, wiping his tears discretely as he saw her do the same. It was only when he met her gaze again, now closer, that he realised something was wrong. There was something off with her eyes, something different in the way she looked at him. He could feel the same intensity in her gaze, the same… love, dare he think it, that she always showed when looking at him, but something was missing. The warmth, the intimacy her gaze always inspired, was gone.

Before his mind could make sense of it, could try and figure out this puzzle, Glenn came forward, laying his hand on Daryl's arm, as he smiled at Anamika.

"Anna, can you give me a moment with Daryl please?" Her gaze turned cautious and… anxious? Nevertheless, she nodded, her eyes glancing towards him again before she looked back at Glenn.

"I'll be with Abraham." Daryl watched with confusion as she walked off, and Glenn seemed to understand, as he murmured softly at his side, "She means Abraham's grave."

Daryl watched as her form disappeared around a corner, before Glenn's sigh pulled his attention back. He didn't know what Glenn wanted to talk about that couldn't wait and he also didn't understand Anna's reaction to him. Sure, she cried and clutched at him like he did at her, but beyond that, there was no… intimacy in her actions. She acted as if nothing had happened, as if he had just gone out on a short run and they saw each other less than an hour ago.

"Daryl, we need to talk about Anna."

"Wha' about her?" He grunted, his hackles rising at Glenn's hesitant expression.

"Daryl, the blow to her head…It… It really-" Daryl felt dread rising in his gut as Glenn struggled to say what he wanted to say and his brow furrowed and eyes narrowed as his anxiety grew.

"Spit it out man!" Glenn looked at him, his kind gaze more fearsome than a hundred walkers, as Daryl could practically taste the pity in them.

"Daryl, the blow caused her to lose her memories. She has no recollection of anything that happened since the dead started walking. Dr Carson is sure that her memories will return with time, but we're not sure how long or how much she will recall."

Daryl felt like he took a blow to the gut, his eyes wide and his body frozen. His mind struggled to process what this meant, struggled to process Glenn's words.

"We told her about us to try and jog her memory, but at the moment, she doesn't remember us." Daryl knew what Glenn was really trying to say. She didn't remember him, daryl; she didn't remember their relationship.

Anamika, the only woman he'll probably ever love, didn't remember him and they weren't entirely certain she would. Turning, he shook off Glenn's hand, stalking away and secretly glad when he heard Glenn stop Maggie and Jesus from following him. He had to think on his own.

He climbed up the ladder to the top of the wall, looking out over the world outside Hilltop's walls, his mind sluggishly plowing forth in its effort to make sense of everything. It felt like he was there for a few minutes, but the next thing he knew, the sun was low in the sky and he was no closer to comprehending this situation. A throat cleared behind him and he turned his head. Glancing through his hair at the intruder, his shoulders hunched as he saw Sasha standing behind him.

"Jesus thought you might like a shower. I volunteered to show you where it is." Daryl knew where the showers where, as he had been here before, but he also knew that Sasha knew that and she just wanted an excuse to talk to him. Probably to rage at him and blame him for Abraham's death. He knew he deserved it, so he silently followed her as she climbed down from the outlook. They made their way up to the house, the silence stretching between them like an open wound. He kept his gaze on the ground, his fists clenched so that his knuckles whitened as his skin stretched across them.

"I don't blame you for Abraham's death. He was a good man who couldn't stand to see the people he cared about being hurt. He wanted to save Anamika and he did, so he died the way he wanted to. I miss him, but I am so proud of him, of the man he was. The only person to blame for Abraham's death is Negan and he will get what's coming to him." Daryl blinked, ignoring the burning in his eyes as he silently nodded. Sasha didn't look at him, but she inhaled slowly, before letting it go, her shoulders straight.

"Abraham is gone and nothing I do can bring him back. But Anamika is still here and you have the chance to bring her back. So, bring her back."

Having arrived at the bathroom, Sasha finally looked at him, her eyes steely and hard, before she nodded and walked away. He closed the door behind him, barely noticing the pile of clean clothes as he stripped off his dirty overalls and turned on the shower. Stepping under the spray that was gradually getting warmer, he braced his hands against the walls. When the water pounding on his back became scalding hot and his wet hair sticked to his face, the burning in his eyes finally won.

Head hung low, shoulders slumped and body wrenching with his sobs, he cried.

It was a few minutes later that his tears stopped and he gasped for breath as he tried to regain his composure. He lifted his face to the spray, allowing the hot water to wash away his shame, before he efficiently washed his body and hair with the soap bar. Turning off the water, he roughly toweled himself dry and finally noticed the clean clothes, which he slipped on quickly. He had an urgency to his movements that wasn't present before and he walked out of the bathroom and down the stairs quickly, his eyes flitting about. He encountered Sasha, Maggie, Glenn and Jesus on the porch and it was Sasha who first noticed him.

"She's still at Abraham's grave. It's around the corner, behind the last trailer." He nodded his thanks to Sasha, jumping off the steps and heading towards where he knew he would find Anamika. When he rounded the last bend by the trailer, the sun had just set and it took him a moment to see Anamika's body curled up in the dim light. Her knees were drawn to her chest and her eyes far away, her chin resting on her folded hands atop her knees.

The ground shifted beneath his feet as he came closer and her gaze sharped, her blue eyes critically observing him, before it dropped to the grave before her once more. He walked over and sat down besides her, not close enough to touch her, but close enough to feel her warmth. He wasn't sure if his proximity made her nervous, as he remembered how she was when he first met her, but this was the best he could do, as his heart and mind still craved proof of her life.

"Glenn told you." It was a statement, not a question, so he just grunted, unsure what to say. Silence, uncomfortable in a way it hadn't been for months, reigned between them. Finally, she broke it.

"I'm sorry." Daryl's head jerked up and his eyes widened briefly, before he looked away again, his voice gruff as he answered.

"Got nothing to be sorry for. Not your fault."

"But…"

"Yer alive. Tha's all that matters."

Anamika nodded, biting her bottom lip and before Daryl knew it, his hand was reaching out to tug her abused lip from between her teeth. He froze when she did, before his hand jerked away and he hid his face behind his hair.

"Sorry."

"No! No, it's fine. I...I don't mind." Daryl nodded, but still felt uncertain how he should act around her, a far cry from his easy camaraderie he usually had with her.

"You know… I get these flashes when people tell me about the group. Not really memories, not really full images, but more sensations, sounds and emotions. Even though I can't remember them ,when Glenn talks about them, I can feel Carl's hair beneath my palm, Judith's giggle in my ears, Rick's intense blue gaze, Abraham's red hair… It's not with everyone and it doesn't make much sense, but it's something."

Daryl glanced up at her, unsure where she was going with this, but willing to listen to anything she was saying.

"With you… It's not so much sensations or sounds, nothing as shallow as that. With you, it's like this wave that starts deep in my body and completely pulls me under," She inhaled slowly and he could see her hands trembled where she clutched them. He realised, quite suddenly, that she was nervous, but he didn't have more time to think on it, as in the next moment her shoulders steeled and she turned towards him, her gaze determined, "It's an emotion that fills me up and feels like it's stitched into the very fabric of my body."

Though trembling like a leaf in the wind, one of her hands lifted and Daryl inhaled sharply as it came to a rest on his cheek, her thumb caressing his cheekbone gently.

"I don't know if I've said it before, but you need to hear it now, in light of everything that's happened. I might not remember our time together, but Daryl, I love you, with everything I have. I know and can feel that much clearly."

Daryl squeezed his eyes shut, but the warmth on his cheek and her swiping thumb let him know some tears escaped despite his effort. He lifted his hand, clutching her hand to his cheek as he looked down, nodding. She sighed softly, scooting closer and her lips gently touched his forehead, before her hand pulled away to settle in her lap as her head rested on his shoulder. Composing himself, he looked up at the night sky, his body leaning against hers and his thoughts quiet as he just revelled in her presence.

She might not remember him, but that doesn't mean it's the end. He won't let it end like this. He'll bring her back, no matter what he had to do.

WD

Anamika stared up at the ceiling, Daryl's slow, even breaths comforting in the darkness of the room. After her earlier confession of love to Daryl, they had both sat in silence for a bit longer, enjoying the night air in a much less awkward silence than what was between them before. After that, when they had prepared to go to bed, she had been strangely reluctant to leave Daryl's side and she could see he felt the same way but wouldn't say anything; so she proposed they slept in the same room, but separately. Thus she was lying in her bed in a trailer that was vacant, Daryl asleep on the pull out couch across the room, and desperately trying to fall asleep.

Her efforts were for naught though, as she remained wide awake, her mind spinning with the day's events and the tumultuous emotions Daryl had inspired in her. Honestly, she had not expected her reaction to seeing him for the first time, and she felt almost betrayed by her body, by the way it completely swept her feet from under her. Yet at the same time, she didn't want it any other way.

It felt like a war was raging inside her, as she didn't have any memories of this guy and logically should have no reason to feel this way. The strength of her emotions frightened her and made her want to retreat into herself like a turtle, yet her own military training screamed at her to confront the situation and take it head on. She had a feeling though that the way her training would have her approach the situation would be all wrong.

She sighed, rolling onto her side, her eyes falling onto Daryl's sleeping form. He twitched every so often and she wondered if he was dreaming. She watched his eyelids flutter, the way his mouth pursed and relaxed, the arch of his nose and the strands of hair that fell over his face. His face was relaxed in sleep, one arm tucked behind his head as he lied on his back. The other arm hung off the side of the couch, even though there was plenty of space on the couch.

Looking at him, he was certainly handsome enough, in a rugged, masculine way; which she admit appealed to her. As someone with a military background and who underwent harsh training, she could appreciate his muscles with a different eye, as she knew the hard work they screamed of and how fit he kept his body. She felt it was a good idea, especially with the world the way it is now; much better than the soft form of Gregory that spoke of a comfortable life and weakness.

Daryl grunted in his sleep, rolling so that his back faced her and she stared at how strong and broad it was. She had expected a much harsher man with how the others described him, but had found a surprisingly soft man. He had been gentle, listening to her and giving her space, but also letting her know in his own way he was there for her. When she looked into his eyes, it was as if he poured molten lava into her with the love she could see there. His touch had been desperate when he held her to him, but then he had thought she had died, so she could understand that.

Huffing, she sat up, quietly swinging her legs over the bed's side and padding across the room to where Daryl slept, her steps completely silent. Crouching down by the side of the couch, her hand reached out, her fingertip softly tracing the lines of Daryl's back, her mind wondering how she could ever feel this way. She was so confused and wary, but also willing to give this a chance.

The muscles in Daryl's back tensed, but she didn't take her hand away, instead continuing trailing her fingers across his back in strange lines, as if she was tracing something she couldn't see. She thought she felt the skin raised beneath her fingers, but before she could investigate further, Daryl turned around, his eyes intense as their gazes met, but not moving or saying anything otherwise.

A perfectly silent moment passed between them, the air filled with something she couldn't quite describe or recognize... and then Daryl blinked and scooted backwards, a silent invitation. She knew he would never ask or tell her, but he would offer and she found herself unwilling to refuse that offer. Standing up, she slid into the provided space, still warm from his body heat, lying curled on her side, facing him with her knees drawn up and her hands cradled together on the couch in front of her chest. Daryl closed his eyes, seemingly going back to sleep, and she did the same, trying to shut her brain down.

She kept her eyes closed as she felt him move and he drew the blanket up to her shoulders, tucking it around her, before his hands clasped hers and he breathed out. They didn't touch otherwise, but she could feel the warm line of his body curving around her, an inch away from her form and she smiled. She had never felt this comfortable and safe while serving in the army and honestly thought it wouldn't be possible, her paranoia far too bad to allow her to relax this way.

Yet with Daryl's warmth a protective barrier around her, she felt her lips twitching into a smile as she fell asleep, their hands still clasped together.

WD

Alright, so I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, despite that it was super late and not that long. Let me know what you thought, because writing all these feelings has a chance to sound really OC, especially when it comes to Daryl, as he's not really open about his feelings.