The Walking Deth - Part IV

Here and Home - Chapter III

Settled

There were signs of life out there. I could see them. But some part of me didn't want to believe they were there.

The lights of Washington DC twinkled like stars that had fallen to the Earth. It could have meant people were still living in DC. It could mean there was a chance my sister, and Judith and everyone else were there. But after all that had happened, it seemed so hard to focus on the light when there was so much darkness surrounding it.

I heard the sharp and now familiar clicking of the door lock, and then the door creak open. I didn't bother turning, I could tell by the shuffling of the footsteps on the carpet it was Daryl. Something clunked and scraped. The smell of pork in the air told me it was my dinner plate Daryl was bringing to me like he had the past two nights.

I felt his breath hot and moist against my neck as he came up behind me where I sat on the ledge of the hotel window, looking out at the lights of DC. His lips brushed against my ear and then moved upwards skimming over my hair and landing on the top of my head.

"There's still hope." He murmured into my hair. I wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement.

I touched my chin to my shoulder and gave it a shrug. "There're less lights than last night, I think." A pessimistic reply was all I could manage.

Daryl stepped away from me, gripped the collar of his dirty flannel shirt and began tugging it over his head, groaning as he flexed his neck and shoulder muscles.

I looked to the plate of pork, beans and potato on the table. It had been tasting like real pork, and not mystery meat like I was given at Terminus, but still I wondered where it came from. I had not seen pigs down in the hotel garden.

I eyed over Daryl's bow that lay on the table in close proximity to my food, his quiver refilled with arrows, some which looked like they still needed to be cleaned of blood and gore. It didn't help with my already barely-existent appetite.

He had been out all day today, and all day yesterday, scavenging through every home, shop and car they came across, as instructed by Negan. Daryl insisted it was dangerous work that he didn't want me involved in. Most of the people here worked in one of three shifts, but Daryl had chosen to work two to make sure we were both fed and given access to a proper bed.

I left my place by the window and moved behind him, ran my fingers over the taut and bulging skin of his neck and began kneaded my fingers into the knots in his muscles.

"We drove 'round most the beltway. Walkers as far as the eyes can see..." He groaned as I hit a particularly hard spot, and began pressing it with my thumb. "I'm thinkin' maybe they're goin' in by the river. We know there're people livin' in there 'cause of the lights, and with the amount of walkers 'round the place, they gotta be servin' a buffet."

"Maybe the lights are on timers." I muttered listlessly.

"Nah, there's gotta be people there. The government was there. They prob'ly got some underground bunker, secret tunnel shit…Eugene was talkin' to 'em, he might've got 'em in. We just gotta…"

"Daryl." I interrupted. "Were not gonna find 'em. I think we just gotta accept they're gone."

Daryl turned his face toward me, his brow slightly furrowed. "What ever happened to havin' a little faith?"

"I lost what little faith I had in that bus."

Daryl groaned again, I wasn't sure if it was from pain thinking about the kids, or pleasure as I pressed my fingers deeper into his muscle tissue.

I turned away from him and walked towards my plate of food on the small table, and trailed my finger around the rim. "I want to leave the room tomorrow."

Daryl clenched his jaw and pressed his lips together.

I picked up the magazine I had left on the table after reading it for the fourteenth time, and tossed it onto the foot of the bed next to him. "There're only so many times I can read about Demi and Ashton's marriage breakdown and Winehouse's overdose."

Daryl sighed and began fiddling with the buckle on his belt, lips still pressed in a firm line.

"I've been locked in this room for three days. I'm goin' a bit crazy here. Got nothin' to do but think all day." I choked back the sob that I could feel brewing in my chest. "Think about the kids."

Seeming to sense my misery, Daryl grabbed me around the upper arm and tugged me into his chest, and began rubbing his hands along my bare shoulders.

"I need to do somethin'." I muttered into his chest.

"There's nothin' for you to do out there, 'cept go on runs…And you just ain't cut out for that kinda work, Beth…"

"But I need to talk to people, Daryl. You've been so concerned with keepin' me safe, you don't think that I might need some kinda social interaction to stay sane? You're gone for sixteen hours a day."

I turned my face up so I could catch a look of his eyes. "You've been out there with these people for long enough. You must have some idea if they can be trusted."

Daryl gave his head a gentle shake. "I ain't talked to many but Wally."

"You trust him, right?"

"As much as I can be trustin' someone I've known for three days."

I pulled my head away from his shoulder so I could better examine his face. It still looked twisted with concern.

"It's Negan I don't trust." He went on. "The guy spends most of his day upstairs with his girls, and when he's not fuckin' 'em, he's talkin' 'bout fuckin' 'em."

"Do you think he's dangerous?"

Daryl hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Lucille. That ain't another one of his girls. He carries 'round a baseball bat, wrapped in barbed wire. Takes it everywhere and talks to it like it's a woman. Won't even surprise me none if he's tried fuckin' the thing. He's hornier than a double dicked goat and as nutty as squirrel shit."

"Seems all leaders go a little nuts. 'Member what Rick was like after the farm, and then after he lost Lori? Maybe you gotta be nuts, you know, to cope."

He scoffed, "And you wondered why I didn't wanna do it."

I tried to smile at his attempt at humour, but when I thought of him being the one in charge I thought of the school, so I frowned instead, looking to my bare feet on the floor.

He tucked a finger under my chin and drew my face upwards, his blue eyes meeting mine.

"You can leave the room, but stay with the women and kids. And don't go near the lounge."

"What's in the lounge?"

Daryl pressed his lips together as if in thought and gently tossed his head. "Never you mind, I just don't want you anywhere near the place, got it?"

I nodded my head, knowing if Daryl didn't want me near there, then he had good reasons.

Daryl left the room in the early hours of the morning, when the room was still dim. From my position on the bed, I stared out the window waiting for the sun to fill the room, and when the room glowed with morning light, I slipped out of bed and into the clothes I had been wearing for the last three days, the crossbow being the only thing I had saved from the bus. The only thing I had saved.

I went to the bathroom and splashed my face with cold water and eyed over the toilet, wondering if I could go a morning without using it. I still felt queasy. I was unsure if it was from the disturbing dreams I had been having every night or from something else, but either way I tried to hide it from Daryl, I didn't want him to worry about me anymore than he already was.

When I was confident I had control over my churning stomach, I left the bathroom to find that Daryl had left the swipe card on the table along with a little note that said 'I love you' and then 'Take your knife'.

…

Down in the hotel foyer, kids dressed in shorts and tees and with big smiles on their faces were running around kicking at a ball. Their mothers sat nearby huddled together and gossiping as if they were in a school yard at pick up time. After breakfast this is where I told Daryl I would stay, but looking at the kids happy faces as they spun and turned and lunged, it did nothing but tear at my heart and make me pine for my lost little ones. I would rather stay up in the hotel room than spend the day with kids.

The dining room was filled with sunlight that came through the large ceiling to floor windows looking out to the overgrown gardens. The collections of tables and chairs in the room were empty, but the people who wound their way through, with cutlery and crockery in their arms, made me think it had recently been full, or would be soon. The bus boys, as they seemed to be, were dressed in aprons and caps, and rushed around as if they were under the thumb of a strict head chef. There was food placed out in a servery with a selection of what looked like canned fruit, scrambled eggs and pork. It almost felt as if I was in a real functioning hotel.

I ate by myself and then took my plate to the kitchen offering to help with the dishes as something to keep me occupied, but the kitchen hands just looked disgusted by my offer, stating they weren't about to lose their hard-earned points.

I left the dining room and followed the signs through the halls and down a back flight of stairs to the laundry, hoping I might be able to find something other than a smelly and blood-stained sweater to wear.

The laundry was part of the basement floor, attached to the parking garage. It had two stairwells, a main one that connected it to the upper six floors, and another that connected only to the ground floor. Across from the entry to the stairwell were double glass doors that also led out to the parking garage.

The laundry room was large enough to house over a hundred bodies and was lit by a single fluorescent light that flickered and buzzed. The shadowed cinder block walls were lined with unused washers and driers, covered in dust and lint. There were several large stainless steel tables in the centre, piles of folded washing placed on top, and women and one man filled the room scrubbing dirty clothes against washboards while they jabbered and gossiped.

I walked over to the nearest woman, a blonde who didn't look much older than me, she smiled up at me as I approached, her freckled nose crinkling as her lips rose.

"Hi I'm Mandy." She offered her hand before I got the chance to offer mine.

"Beth." I took her hand and shook it.

"Knew it wasn't 'The Kid'." She smiled to herself and went back to folding her clothing.

"You knew about me?"

She nodded. "Uhuh, don't really get too many pretty girls through here. There aren't too many girls who make it, and the ones that do, aren't pretty. "

I lowered my eyes, thinking how much compliments were wasted on me in my current condition.

"Oh don't be shy, girl, you'll have it better than most of the others here."

Most of the women I had seen around here had been covered in scars, and looked as if they had lived tougher lives than even Daryl. But Mandy was still very attractive. She had green eyes that were pressed together at the sides that gave her a certain sultry look. Her lips were pouty and full. Her skin was flawless except for a small scar on her eyebrow. She had a slight frame like mine, but she was much bigger in the bust area. I might have been jealous of her appearance, but her eyes had a sadness that seemed even deeper than my own, and it made me wonder why it was that pretty girls had it better than the others.

I cleared my throat trying to distract from the fact I had been staring at her. "I was hoping maybe there were some clothes around that no-one was usin'. I came in what I'm wearing, been in them for four days now."

Mandy eyed up my stained sweater and jeans. "I could definitely find you something better."

She began searching through her pile of folded clothes and tossed an arrangement of coloured fabric over to me.

"Are they yours?" I asked as I lifted a pale blue tee.

"Yeah, but don't worry I can always ask for more."

She said it so casually, as if it were easy just to stroll over to the department store and pick out a fresh outfit.

"I'll try to find you some more jeans or something too. Bring them to your room. What room are you in?"

"Four-twelve"

"Oh, you're right below me." She turned her eyes to the ceiling, "well after today you will be."

"What's happening today?"

"I'm getting married."

"Married? Like with a real wedding?"

"Well…there'll be a wedding…"

"That's…wonderful. I guess."

"I don't know about wonderful, but it'll certainly be better than how things were."

"How were things?"

"I just always had to be watchin' my back. Struggling to earn my points, trying to claw my way up to the top..." She trailed off, her face falling in sadness.

"What do you think of this dress?" She held up an electric blue mini dress, with a dozen straps crossed over for the sleeves and sequins around the hemline.

"It's beautiful, but what's the occasion?"

"My wedding, silly"

"Oh."

"Negan doesn't care much for gowns of white satin and tulle."

"Negan." I cocked a brow in mild surprise. "Does he control what women wear on their wedding days too?"

"Yes. When he's the one getting married to 'em."

My brows press together in confusion. "But doesn't he already have a wife?"

"He has two. I'll be number three."

"Oh." Was all I could reply. I didn't know what a man could possibly do with that many women. Sometimes Daryl seemed to struggle with just me.

I refolded the clothes in front of me, trying to avoid her seeing my eyes, which would have been passing judgement.

"It's easier." Mandy said with a shrug. "His wives sit around all day in the penthouse, living as if none of this shit ever happened, and instead of having to please twenty men a day, they only have one."

I chewed on my lip nervously, wondering if she really had to please twenty men a day, or if she was exaggerating to prove a point.

"If you don't have any other skills, and you don't have a man to keep you, you have to make your way using what you have at your disposal." She leaned forward on the table so she could catch my eye. "Some women have what it takes to get out there and kill to survive. Some women find it easier to use what's between their legs to keep them alive. I'm one of the latter."

I wondered which category I fell into.

I stared at the rusted tubes of metal exposed between the cracked tiles, the spot where the shower handles should have been. It made me think of the school, where we could have showers whenever we wished, and thinking of the school made me think of the kids.

Pouting, I turned away from the shower and to the tiny basin, which was filled with ice cold water. I took a fresh face cloth I had borrowed from the laundry earlier that day, and began rubbing it over my face, scrubbing away the sweat from the day. Although the weather wasn't too warm, there was no air in the hotel, and it got quite stale and stuffy, especially up in our room.

I rubbed the cloth against a soggy piece of soap stuck to the basin ledge, and then ran it under my arm, over my shoulder and down over the rest of my body. We were permitted one shower a week on levels two to four, but only using the downstairs shower by the algae filled swimming pool. As much as I missed hot water pelleting against my skin, I would rather bath in a hand basin than be down there, exposed, with seemingly sex crazed strangers.

I heard the familiar click and clunk of the door unlocking, and grabbing a towel to wrap around my body I went to the door to greet Daryl.

"You're back early…" I choked on my words and doubled over coughing trying to loosen them from my throat so I could breathe again. It wasn't Daryl at all, but Negan.

He was dressed in a loose satin gown, his hairy chest exposed. His dark and intimidating eyes travelled over my uncovered flesh. The candle light from the room flickered over his sick and twisted grin making him look more evil than I thought he possibly could be. He was holding a pile of folded clothing in one hand and the bat Daryl had told me about in the other.

My eyes first went to the crossbow on the table. Unloaded. It would take me far too long to load it now. I then looked to my boots by the door. In one quick lunge I could grab my knife out, if he didn't grab me first.

He casually strolled in and kicked the door shut behind him placing the bat against it, dumped the clothing on to the desk, and then brushed off his hands as if he had been holding cobweb covered chopped logs.

"You don't mind if Lucille comes in, do you?" He pointed to the bat at the door. It looked like it could do a lot of damage with that wire on it. I couldn't tell if the brown markings on it were from rust or blood.

"Mandy said you needed clothes." He said in a cheerful, and surprisingly unthreatening tone, while nodding to the clothes on the table.

Un-convinced, I gripped the towel tighter to my chest and tried to calculate how someone of my size could manoeuvre about and overpower someone of his size.

"You don't need to look so fucking terrified. I'm not going to hurt you. I don't do rape. Every woman I touch asks me for it… No they fucking beg me for it." He chuckled to himself.

I cleared my tight throat. "You have a key to our room?"

He held up a white card, identical to the one Daryl had left for me. "I have a key to this whole fucking building. I am the boss."

A cold shiver ran down my back as I realised Negan could potentially walk into this room anytime he pleased.

Demonstrating his ownership, he casually strolled across the room and threw himself down on the bed, laying on his side seduction style, his bare leg bent towards me.

His eyes scanned over the room. "Do you like your accommodations?"

I nodded. "s'okay." I wasn't sure if I should be gracious and thank him for his hospitality. It was hard to show appreciation when I wasn't even sure if I was safe.

He glanced up to the ceiling. "Much better on the top floor. Nice view. Nice food. Nice clothes. Showers whenever you like. You'll need a lot of those from all the fucking we'd be doin'…'course you would need to be one of my girls first." He patted the bed next to where he was laying. "Why don't you take a seat?"

I backed my way towards the door and to my boots. "Daryl will be back soon."

"Daryl? Is that his name? He won't be back until ten. So come over here, and let me keep you busy while you're waiting."

"No." I said firmly, my foot now touching my boot. I could see my knife beside my sock inside.

He rolled his eyes. "You don't know what you're missing." He slid off the bed and to his feet, and stretched casually, his robe loosening and exposing his flaccid manhood.

He strolled back towards the door, not bothering to fix his robe, and collected his bat.

Wary of his close proximity I ducked down, grabbed the knife, popped it open and pointed it towards him.

He smiled at the blade.

"Told you I won't touch you unless you ask me." He pulled the door open. "And you will ask me." He winked at me, and then strolled out the door and down the hall, his robe flying behind him.

I slammed the door shut and propped the desk chair under the handle then went straight back into the bathroom to splash cold water over my skin, inflamed from both rage and embarrassment.

What kind of man strolls into a taken girl's room and makes a move on her, when he was married only hours earlier?

A man like Negan.

Once I was done washing up, I went back out to examine the clothes Mandy had given me. A pair of shorts, a pair of jeans, and a sweater, all clean and bright and new looking. There were also two sets of brightly coloured lace and satin underwear. With accessories. Stockings and those things you use to hold them up; suspenders I think they are called. I didn't know why Mandy would think I needed those, but I was in desperate need of a bra and underpants. I hadn't been wearing a bra the day we came here, and my one pair of underpants were still in a soaking wet puddle in the bathroom.

I picked up the fuchsia coloured bra and pressed it over my breasts. It seemed to be the right size; Mandy must have made a good guess. I slipped it on to see how it felt, and then slipped on the matching underpants and went back into the bathroom to examine myself in the mirror.

They looked really nice, and really sexy. It sent an uncomfortable squirming feeling through my body thinking of sex and what I had tried to make Daryl do the first day we had got here. I had wanted something to take my mind of the pain, even though it seemed wrong. My hormones had been so all over the place; I didn't even know what was right anymore.

I ran my fingers through my hair, and thought about asking Daryl to find me a proper brush next time he went out, and then blew out the candle in the bathroom and went back into the bedroom to read one of the new outdated magazines I had collected that day.

I must have dozed off while waiting for Daryl to get back. The gentle tapping on the door startled me awake.

I checked that it was Daryl in the peephole and then moved the chair and opened the door, standing behind it so I couldn't be seen, in my almost nude state, from the hallway.

Daryl strolled in, dumped everything down on the floor and then fell to the bed so he could pull his boots off, and then began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Whoa!" He cried when he caught sight of me.

Instinctively I covered myself up.

"Where'd you get all that?"

"One of the girls gave it to me. Mandy."

Daryl nodded and then shouldered out of his flannel shirt and vest and let it fall onto the bed, keeping his eyes on me.

"You made a friend?"

I shrugged. "Not really a friend, but she was nice to me… She married Negan today."

"Today?" His eye squinted as his lip curled. "There was a weddin'…today?"

"If you could call it a wedding." I reached my fingers up my back so I could undo the clasp on the bra. "It involved Mandy standing in the foyer in front of a man dressed in black leather and covered in tattoos that I assumed was supposed to be a minister." I tugged at the strap. The clasp was new and stiff.

"Negan came out from the stairwell carrying Lucille, strolled straight over to Mandy, planted a soppy kiss on her lips and said 'Get the fuck on with it.' to the minister. The minister went on and on about loyalty and trust and the unbreakable union of marriage and then Negan interrupted telling him to skip to the next part. The minister said that line about speaking now if you have any objections or forever hold your peace, and of course everyone was silent. They would have to be the way Negan started swinging the bat through the air as if he would clobber anyone who spoke up." I demonstrated the swing for him, doing a full turn with my hips and flexing my foot behind me. "Then he adds 'And if anyone touches my wife, I'm gonna melt their face off.' And laughed like a maniac. I thought he was kiddin', but the looks of everyone else; they were terrified."

Daryl scoffed to himself and stood to loosen his belt. "Wouldn't surprise me none if that were literal."

I nodded my head in agreement, certain it was meant literally too.

"So the minister finished up and Negan kisses her, like really kisses her, as if they were going to do it right there in the middle of the foyer. Then he stops and tells everyone he's going upstairs to fuck the shit out of his wife, and then he's going to fuck the shit out of his other wives too."

Daryl screwed his face up in disgust, mirroring my own facial expression.

"And Mandy…she actually looked happy about it."

Daryl dropped his jeans to the floor and kicked them off so he was now standing before me naked. "The girls that come on runs with me. I hear 'em talkin'. They fantasize about bein' one of his wives, or even just one of his girls."

Daryl strolled into the darkened bathroom and began washing his face and running water through his greasy hair. I followed and stood behind him in the doorway.

"He told me I would ask to be with him one day too."

Daryl stopped what he was doing and glared at me in the reflection of the mirror.

"He talked to you?"

"Yeah…actually he came into this room he's got a…" Daryl shoved past me, grabbed the chair and propped it under the door just as I had. Then he turned back to me gripping my jaw with his hands and began examining me, turning my neck and lifting my arms as if he was looking for some kind of rash.

"He touch you?"

"No. Just creeped me out."

He wrapped his arms around me. "The sooner I got some kinda idea on where to go from here, the better."

I doubted there was any place left that was better than this, horny and crazy leader or not.

Not wanting him to see my doubtful face, I turned around in his grip and gathered my hair of my neck.

"Can you undo me? The clasp is real tough."

Daryl's fingers pressed into my back and he began tugging at the clasp.

"Find anythin' today?" I asked while turning my chin over my shoulder so I could look at him furrowing his brow in concentration.

Daryl shook his head. "Spent the whole day siphoning gas from cars on the highway." The bra finally sprung free and Daryl moved his hands to my front and let it slide down over my waist and then dropped it to the floor. "S'posed to be other camps out there. If I can get out to 'em, I'm hopin' they'll know somethin'."

I touched his hand that was now resting on my elbow, his arms crossed over my breasts, his warm chest pressed into my back. "Don't hope too hard." I muttered.

"You not feelin' better?" His warm breath brushed against the nape of my neck as he spoke, and was followed with a gentle kiss.

"Just don't want to fool myself...again."

He rubbed his hands firmly up and down my arms, his biceps flexing by my shoulders, and kissed my neck. I tilted my head to the side to allow him to move across my neck and to my ear, enjoying the tickling sensation that was distracting me from my low mood.

I felt him stir against my backside, and the thought of him hard sent heat twisting through my chest, down through my hips, and then pulsating between my legs.

"I won't cry." I whispered, both to myself and to him.

"Hmmm?" He mumbled.

We hadn't tried being intimate since the first day we had come here. I had been such a mess I couldn't even focus on the distraction the pleasure was supposed to provide.

"I won't cry." I said a little louder.

He was silent and still for a moment before he tipped his head over my shoulder so he could look into my eyes.

"My dicks only movin 'cause a pretty, half-naked girl asked me to take her bra off, I weren't tryin' nothin'."

I shrugged. "If you did. I think I would be okay."

He gave a long sigh, the feel of his breath against my neck making my hair stand on end, and then he went back to placing single kisses along my neck and shoulder.

"It wasn't a bad idea. It was just too soon. Way too soon."

He nodded his head against mine. "Too soon."

I could now feel him growing even harder against me, his kisses became firmer, his hands travelled downwards, slipping off my elbows and falling to my waist.

"I wouldn't mind feelin'…" My voice caught in my throat and grew tight and raspy as his hands swept back and forth across my belly. My skin left tingling where he touched. "… somethin' other than pain."

"Me too." He murmured in agreement.

"So we can try it, right?"

He didn't answer with words, but one hand moved to my breast, and the other moved down to the band of my underpants, a single finger skimming under the elastic.

My body shuddered and my skin rippled with gooseflesh, as the fluttering intensified between my legs, my grief now taking a backseat to desire.

Daryl tugged my back firmly against his chest and brushed his chin against my jaw, his whiskers scratching against my sensitive skin.

With heavy and hot breath he continued to place wet kisses over my neck and shoulder and back, as his fingers tugged at my underpants, and slipped them down to below my hips, where he let them fall down my legs and to the floor.

Now with my backside fully exposed, he pressed his hard length into my flesh, leaving my tail bone feeling bruised.

His fingers danced from my hip, along my back and over my shoulder and then along my neck and tangled in my hair. He gently turned my head, so that our lips could meet, and then his hot, cigarette tasting tongue was filling my mouth.

Releasing my head now that it was in the position he wanted it in, his hand slid straight back down over my belly and then his fingers made their way down towards my throbbing sensitive spot, just below my mound of hair.

He pressed his forefinger inwards and with a firm and steady pressure began rubbing in a circular motion. I sighed into his mouth and tilted my hips forward so his fingers could slowly slip further down, gliding through my wetness and then delving into my opening.

My hips shifted forward and backward instinctively as his fingers worked deep inside of me. Somehow he always knew just the spot to touch to send the buzzing, hot, jolting sensation through every part of me.

After a few moments of his firm manoeuvring, the tremors and convulsions took place of the jolting and I felt myself clenching rhythmically against his fingers, and a throaty moan passed my lips.

He groaned in response, and his lips left mine so that he could tip me forward slightly and replace his fingers with his full, hot, hard length. I gasped deeply, my muscles stretching and clenching around him, as he slid into me, stopping when his hips pressed firmly into my backside and with him fully inside.

He held me by my jaw and pulled me backwards until his mouth found mine once again, and our tongues fought and pressed and danced together as he continued to drive upwards into me in slow and controlled motions. He massaged one hand into my breast, and with the other he went back down to working on my pulsating sweet spot above the place he was thrusting into.

Him deep inside me, his warm chest behind me, his strong arms wrapped around me, his expert fingers touching my front and his tongue delving into my mouth; it was a complete sensory overload that had my head spinning, my skin tingling and my legs trembling beneath me.

I collapsed in Daryl's arms as the second wave took hold of me, sending convulsions through every part of my body.

Supporting my limp weight with one strong arm, bulging with muscle, he shuffled me forward so my shaking knees were resting on the bed, and then continued to drive into me with long and deliberate strokes.

The third time I cried out for him, he let out a desperate groan to meet mine, and then suddenly and unexpectedly, pulled himself out and away from me.

Thinking he was already done, I let my limp limbs fall, and collapsed onto the bed, my face buried in the soft bed covers. I attempted to catch my breath, and regain some kind of control over my body, before I realised there was no point. I heard the crinkling of foil, and I turned my head to see him rolling a condom over his glistening, wet length.

He took one long stride across the room, straddled over my legs, and then with one arm, gripped me around the waist and flipped me on to my back. He stepped between my legs and then crawled forward, pushing his hips between my thighs, his end finding my throbbing wet opening and slipping into me once more.

His heavy blue eyes meet my gaze for the first time since we had started our love making session, and the emotions I saw there, some kind of mixture of pain, and fear and desire, made my heart thrum in empathy.

He slid his arms under my shoulders and tugged me into his chest, breaking away from my gaze and burying his head into my neck. He continued to drive into me, while groaning and panting and making other desperate sounds into my ear, that were mimicked in a higher and softer register by my own voice.

I had told him I wouldn't cry, and I didn't want to, but with him pressed so firmly against me, and our bodies joined and moving together as one, I felt an overwhelming sense of comfort and completeness. I had no control over the tears that were spilling out.

With simultaneous motion, our hips rolled and bucked and tipped together, our moans came out in harmonised unity. Our bodies were so in sync, that we both groaned and convulsed and came at the same time.

When the wave of pleasure was over we let our exhausted limbs fall to the side, with his heavy body still pressing down on mine, and enveloping me in warmth and security.

When our breathing had regulated, and our hearts were beating normally, Daryl turned his face to mine, and placed a gentle kiss on to my cheek, touching his lips to my tears.

"You said you wouldn't cry." He murmured against my cheek.

I sighed. "They're not for grief. I think they're for relief."

He frowned a little. "You feelin' better?"

"A little better." I replied in a whisper, "a little more myself."

Losing the kids had shattered my heart and had been a blow to everything I had faith in. But knowing that Daryl and I still had each other , made me feel as if I had the strength to carry on, and have hope for happiness again.

"We'll find the others." I said in a voice a little stronger. "And if we don't, we still have each other."

A/N: Chapters aren't coming along as quickly as I had hoped. Kids are on holidays and I can't get a moment to think! Hoping to have two more at least out before next weekend.

The next 4 chapters are going to be pretty heavy, but Negan wasn't lying about the rape thing, so you don't need to worry about that...